"WORLD ANNOUNCEMENT: World fusion is complete! Main city teleportation is now enabled! World chat has been switched to regional war channels, with new message limits."
"WORLD ANNOUNCEMENT: May the gods' light ever shine upon you. Have a wonderful day in this new world!"
US region, the western states.
Gunfire flared, explosions rocked the streets.
"Advance! Keep up the suppressing fire! Get those people out of there—move!"
A squad of over a dozen fully armed US soldiers pressed forward in a tight fan formation, weapons blazing.
Up ahead, perched on the remains of a collapsed building, was a grotesque spider nearly five meters tall, its jet-black body studded with dozens of human faces that twisted and shrieked.
Gunshots sparked uselessly off its iron-like carapace.
\\[Hundred-Faced Spider: Level 70]
\\[HP: 2,910,000/3,000,000]
\\[Skills: Whirlwind Stab, Brutal Smash, Cocoon Capture]
A rocket screamed through the air, slamming into the spider's fanged maw. A splash of green ichor burst forth.
The damage numbers floated in the air, and the soldiers gaped. A missile capable of shredding tank armor had barely scratched it.
Their rifles? If they didn't hit a vital point, they couldn't even pierce its hide.
Suddenly, the spider's bladed legs glowed white. It spat out a torrent of sticky silk.
An elderly man and a young boy who'd been hiding behind the rubble screamed as webbing wrapped around them, locking them in place and quickly encasing them in a cocoon.
"Son of a bitch—cover me!"
The squad leader roared, yanking out his combat knife. Under heavy suppressive fire, he sprinted low across the debris, hacking desperately at the web. The silk wasn't that tough, thankfully—he managed to tear the pair free and haul them upright.
"Captain, watch out!"
One of his soldiers shouted. The spider, impossibly agile, plunged its legs deep into the walls and skittered sideways, evading bullets with a nightmarish speed. Then it shrieked and lunged.
The captain spun. "Fuck you—die!"
He ripped a grenade pin with his teeth and flung it straight at the monster.
But a level 70 Elite Boss was despair incarnate for normal people. Dozens of leering faces howled in eerie delight as the spider spun in midair, knocking the grenade aside, which exploded uselessly.
Then it landed, raised a dagger-like leg, and drove it straight through the captain's abdomen. Blood gushed, his insides shredded, health bar gone in an instant.
The old man and boy stared in mute horror. This was like a nightmare they could never wake up from. The spider tossed aside the lifeless corpse and advanced.
"This isn't real… it can't be real…"
They clung to each other, shaking so hard their legs refused to run.
"Awaken. Grip of the Underworld."
A deep voice cut through the chaos. A vast shadow loomed overhead, and a colossal divine hand slammed down, grabbing the spider mid-leap.
It let out a hideous scream, thrashing—then the dark figure above clenched his fist.
The spider's armored body burst like a rotten melon, green blood splashing across the street.
The surviving soldiers stared in awe, shock and joy flooding their faces. "It's him… US Designation 001! Our Archmage—Orson!"
Just then, a silver ribbon of light swept overhead. Drunken Dream soared in on his silver dragon, Denoka.
"O mighty god of light, by your grace heal these fallen souls!"
Lilith lifted her staff high, a six-pointed star shining bright. "Holy Magic: Resurrection!"
Silver light swept across the ruined street. The dead soldiers, including the captain, were wrapped in glowing sigils—and moments later, stood blinking in confusion, wounds gone.
"Resurrection… it actually works in the real world too?"
The captain felt his stomach, whole again. No trace of the fatal gash.
"Modern weapons barely scratch Infinite Dimensions monsters. Trust in your swords and shields instead!" Drunken Dream called.
"He's the Silver Dragon Knight—Drunken Dream!"
"So if it's just like the game, we can kill these things…"
The soldiers' eyes lit up. Light surged around them. Their body armor vanished, replaced by gleaming plate and flowing robes.
"Follow me. We'll clear out every monster on the East Coast. Lilith's blessings are with us." Drunken Dream nodded firmly.
Orson turned to him, voice steady. "Do it. I'll have Nightshade help fortify the spawn zones, build war fortresses to keep monsters out of the major cities."
Then Orson urged Aeloria on, sweeping off to support other battlefronts.
"Dragon's Kiss Guild, form up!"
In the West, Usher shouted. A rain of arrows blotted out the sun, slaughtering wave after wave of monsters.
Skyslasher's voice crackled over comms: "Hold all high-tier spawn points. Don't let elite monsters into the cities!"
In mere hours, Infinite Dimensions had fused with reality. The US map was transformed—vast swathes of the Light Dragon Empire and Dark Empire were now physically part of the West and East Coasts.
Monsters spawned inside city limits. Dungeons and portals opened in crowded streets. Elite beasts roamed where people lived.
Yet in this chaos, US adventurers stood firm together. No matter their old factions, they fought as one to protect civilians and wipe out the monsters.
The Godslayer captains split up. Led by Bradley, every core member took command of three-hundred-man strike teams, riding flying beasts from spawn point to spawn point, crushing anything that crawled out.
Against the overwhelming might of the Godslayer guild, Infinite Dimensions monsters were just fodder.
"Man, look at that. An F-47 fighter jet… gotta be more fun than even dragon-riding."
Bradley grinned, riding Velorith high over the landscape toward the next rally point.
Four cutting-edge fighters flew escort around him. It was a sight no one in history had ever seen—and likely never would again.
"That's the Lightning Dragon Lord. Damn…" one flight captain whispered, swallowing hard. Their envy was palpable.
At first, the pilots had been skeptical of these so-called adventurers. They thought high-tech jets were still top dog. But a terrifying near miss had shattered their pride.
They'd faced a rampaging Storm Zombie Dragon boss. Six jets launched salvo after salvo, nearly emptying their missile bays—only to chip away a third of its health.
The dragon dove through the clouds and unleashed an A-rank storm blade spell. In seconds, two fighters were shredded. Only Bradley's timely arrival saved the day. Velorith tore off the zombie dragon's wings, making it an easy target for ground rockets to obliterate.
"Wagha! Good work is happy work!"
Meanwhile, Nightshade had a million goblins and US army engineers deployed via teleports around the new main cities. Six flying mechs patrolled overhead. Any monster that strayed close was obliterated.
"Jesus… they built a twenty-kilometer wall in under fifteen minutes?"
"Fuck, we've run excavators for years—was that all for nothing?"
Thousands of US engineers stood slack-jawed as stone ramparts rose before their eyes. The goblins were already modifying junk into barricades, raising black obelisks to anchor magical defenses.
"Not enough. Westport's a strategic hub. If only we had blueprints for CIWS turrets…"
"Yeah, we could hack together ten mana autocannons right here. Let meteors rain down—we'll still hold."
Nightshade stood atop the new wall, gazing toward distant spawn zones. The engineers could only stare, stunned.
Was this… even human speech anymore?
They were left speechless. The world had changed too damn fast.
Overnight, humanity's once-proud technology seemed laughably obsolete.
"The age has truly changed," said Dr. Jordan, now looking like a dashing cleric, with a wry smile.
Forty-eight hours passed. Most monsters in the US had been driven back, and under Nightshade's lead, a new magical mega-construction era had begun.