First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 371: SA- The Third Mode

When Xavier logged into Starfall Arena again, he spawned in the center of the lobby and immediately noticed something different. Almost every player he saw was wearing the same default outfit he had worn yesterday — the most basic gear the game offered, something nobody had cared about until now. It wasn’t rare, it wasn’t stylish, it wasn’t tied to any event, but because he had worn it, the entire lobby had copied him down to the last detail. Thousands of players looked almost identical.

He let out a short breath and shook his head. "You guys pick the worst trends," he muttered as one group ran past him bragging about how they got the ’Xav look’ right.

Before he could take two steps, a notification popped up.

[Incoming Message: Starfall Arena Dev Team]

[Mr. Xavier, would you like a private lobby? We can move you away from the crowds if players become overwhelming.]

Xavier glanced around at the sea of look-alikes. Nobody paid attention to him. They were too busy chasing random players who vaguely resembled him.

He replied, [No need. Nobody’s going to recognize me when everyone looks the same.]

A second message came instantly.

[Understood! If you want special accommodations, we’ll prepare them immediately.]

He closed the window and walked toward the center of the lobby where players were crowding under the giant holo-billboard. The event timer was almost up, and everyone was waiting for Mode 3 to be revealed. Rumors kept flying about how extreme this one would be, especially with ten million players watching the servers.

Three minutes later, the billboard unfolded into several massive panels, and new text filled the sky.

[★ MODE 3 — RISE OF RUDOLF KITLER ★]

[Role Assigned to Xavier: Boss Character]

[Enemy Count: 1,000,000 Players]

[Kitler’s Army: Fully NPC, elite-grade]

[Objective (Players): Kill or capture Kitler]

[Objective (Kitler): Survive for 3 hours]

[Mode Ends: Kitler death OR time limit]

The description scrolled quickly. A world war. Nations collapsing. Armies uniting for one goal: kill the dictator hidden in a fortified underground fortress. The final enemy of the event was Xavier, under the name Rudolf Kitler, with an entire NPC army under his command.

Xavier raised an eyebrow at one part of the notes.

[Reason for NPC Army: To ensure fair gameplay and prevent internal interference.]

He couldn’t help thinking, "Meaning they don’t want some idiot on my team shooting me in the first ten seconds."

The timer in the sky showed five minutes until the mode started, so he wandered around the lobby for a bit. The fashion trend he had accidentally started was everywhere. Every corner had players bragging about their "authentic Nova outfit." Some even argued over who looked the closest to him.

He brushed shoulders with several of them. No reaction. They didn’t even glance at him. With everyone cosplaying him, he blended in almost too well.

Holo-screens across the lobby replayed highlights from yesterday’s chaos. Fan edits. Commentary videos. Reaction streams. His name kept popping up everywhere.

And then the countdown appeared overhead.

[Mode 3 Begins In: 02:00]

Xavier adjusted the gloves on his avatar and walked toward the warp gate leading to the underground fortress. This mode was different. More serious. More strategic. More dangerous. A million people were about to hunt him down for three straight hours. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Xavier stepped through the warp gate and entered the bunker. The lighting was low, the air filled with the smell of steel and fuel, and every corridor pulsed with the sound of machinery running at full capacity. Soldiers rushed past him with rifles, engineers shouted orders to one another, alarms blinked along the walls. The entire underground fortress felt like a beast waking up moments before the hunt began.

A squad of elite guards escorted him deeper inside. Their armor looked more advanced than anything he’d seen in the game so far — dark composite plating, glowing HUD strips on their helmets, and insignias marking them as the personal guard of the dictator he was playing.

"Commander Kitler," one of them said, bowing his head slightly. "The generals are waiting in the war room."

It was strange hearing himself addressed like that, but he followed them deeper into the bunker. They passed rows of engineers working on rail cannons, technicians loading ballistic missiles, and squads of elite soldiers tightening armor plates. Everything felt alive and ready for war.

Xavier passed through several blast doors until they reached a circular chamber with a massive holographic map hovering above the table. Three generals waited for him, each with the presence of a long-written, fully-developed boss NPC.

General Kora stood straight with a cold expression, her uniform lined with reinforced joints and cybernetic supports. Major Varron looked like a tank in human form, all muscle and armor with a scar that cut across half his face. Strategist Lyden wore a coat filled with data-scrolls and tactical modules, his eyes calm and sharp.

Kora greeted him. "Commander, the coalition armies have mobilized. All nations are marching on this bunker. Enemy strength is estimated at one million combatants."

Varron added, "Our defensive lines are prepared. Artillery crews await your instructions."

Lyden expanded the hologram. "We have multiple approaches: aerial, subterranean, armored, infantry. You may prioritize whichever front you expect to collapse first."

Xavier studied the map. The enemy spawns glowed in every direction, surrounding the bunker like a closing fist. He pointed at the eastern ridge.

"Set heavy artillery here. I want the first wave wiped the moment they step onto that slope."

Kora nodded. "I’ll dispatch the crews."

Xavier then tapped the underground tunnels. "Reinforce these. If they try digging or tunneling, bury them alive."

"Done," Lyden said.

"And snipers on the western cliff. No one climbs it. I want that place to be a graveyard."

Varron smirked. "Consider it done."

The bunker shook slightly — distant, faint, but unmistakable. The war had started.

A countdown appeared in the corner of Xavier’s vision.

[MODE 3 — ASSAULT BEGINS: 00:10]

The generals straightened. Soldiers locked into formation. Technicians strapped weapons into automated rails.

[00:05]

[00:04]

[00:03]

[PHASE 1 — ENEMY ASSAULT HAS BEGUN]