Three Days Until the Ancient Capital
The event will take place on a separate map. Once you commit to participation, additional reinforcements from your base will be impossible.
Most community functions will be restricted for the duration of the event.
※ The Gallery and Trade Window will be completely locked. Only two chat channels will remain available: the Event Team Chat and the Event Global Chat.
Bases and sectors belonging to participating Commanders will be placed in an invulnerable state until the event concludes.
※ This measure accounts for the fact that base management will be unavailable during the event period. We ask for the understanding of Commanders who choose not to participate.
Huh.
Had this event always been this complicated?
The whole setup reminded me of certain tank games and flight sims from my previous life(?) — the kind that swung wildly between god-tier and absolute garbage depending on the match.
Anyway, now that the notice was up, I started chewing through the details one by one. The more I read, though, the more something about it felt deeply, profoundly ridiculous.
"Hold on… so if I join the event, I can't reinforce or manage my base?"
"That would appear to be the case," Jessica said. "More precisely, it seems Commanders themselves will be locked out of management functions."
Which meant that even if a construction project finished while I was stuck in the event, I wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.
"Commander, the event probably won't run that long, will it?"
"Jessica. Last time I went up against a measly five-clan force, it ate an entire week."
"Ah."
Granted, that had been me fighting five people alone, so the delay tactics had burned through an absurd amount of time. But still — there was that famous saying, wasn't there?
The immortal words of the great sage Jirox-sensei: "When five people gather, one of them is guaranteed to be trash!"
What happens when even a single troll shows up in a team fight? Every MOBA ever made — and every team-based game under the sun — had already answered that question with a mountain of high blood pressure and hospital bills.
My train of thought had derailed into some weird territory, but the summary was simple enough: this thing is going to eat a ridiculous amount of time.
"You're right… thinking about it, if things go sideways, you could easily be locked out of base operations for a month or two."
"Right?"
Jessica nodded along, clearly following my line of worry. But that didn't last long.
Maybe the staff had gotten sick of watching people whine about the exact same concern all over the Gallery and community boards, because they dropped a follow-up notice almost immediately.
Ah. Got it.
Hearing that the thing I'd been fretting over wasn't actually a problem, I nodded and mentally tipped my hat to the staff.
The problem was that within a few short hours of that notice going up, these delightful little gremlins of a player base started demonstrating just how far human malice could go.
[Screenshot: Declaration of War Received.jpg]
These absolute animals lmaooo
[Screenshot: Chat log calling for an attack]
Because event participants get invulnerable bases for the duration, a bunch of clans and solo players are hitting rival bases before anyone joins — trying to chip down their fleets in advance.
Looks like they want to freeload some easy wins in the event. Yeah.
It was an utterly absurd premise — launching a preemptive weed-whacking campaign against anyone planning to join the event. Naturally, most of the player base tore into the idea as pure idiocy.
A handful of newbies, though, floated the take of, "Well, it's not completely wrong, is it?"
That was when a thoroughly fermented veteran dropped a post that snuffed out the storm of curiosity in one go.
Read the notice. Your team, the enemy team — all of it is pure random.
You can go murder some bastard you hate, and the odds of actually meeting him in the event are basically zero.
In case you forgot: there are at least several hundred thousand possessed players in this game.
You. Will. Not. Meet. Them.
What will happen is you torch your own fleet power fighting some "rival," walk into the event half-dead, get your already-wrecked fleet completely shredded by some random intact player, and then your own teammates call you a trolling piece of garbage.
That outcome is infinitely more likely.
Smart kid.
Of course, as the comments under that post made clear, even a rotten veteran's wisdom couldn't stop the pure-for-fun trolls — or the players so blinded by revenge they couldn't see straight. Their rage-fueled death charges kept right on coming.
For a while, the Gallery rang with the continuous wailing of players begging to be saved right before the event.
I shook my head at the whole circus, then went back to what actually mattered: leveling my big, beautiful Hresvelgr — along with the rest of the newly built ships — by clearing quests.
The old grind was back.
For the entire event prep window the staff had given us, I threw everything I had into strengthening the fleet. And under that resolve, the shipyard at the heart of the power-up effort ran day and night, churning out hulls like a machine possessed.