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Chapter 661 Is It Safety Or A Trap?

Elder Zod, his face etched with concern and a hint of frustration, broke the silence. "What happened? Why did we not jump far away?" His voice, tinged with the strain of their situation, echoed the collective anxiety in the room.

Father Black sighed. He had been beside Glenn for a long time before her unfortunate demise and he had learnt how the core that allowed them to make teleportation jumps worked.

In fact, he had operated it a few times in the past. He really did not know what was wrong. All he could do was attribute the fault to their badluck. Nevertheless, he was the current leader of this place and too many people were looking up to him. He had to make important decisions.

Father Black, standing at the forefront, exuded a weary yet resolute demeanor. He understood the gravity of his role in this crucial moment. "The Core still has enough for one more jump," he began, his voice steady but betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"However, our destination is unpredictable. We could end up anywhere – possibly even back where we started." His eyes swept across the room, meeting the gazes of those who looked to him for leadership.

A murmur of concern rippled through the room. The risk of another jump, with its unknown outcome, weighed heavily on everyone's mind.

Father Black raised his hand for silence, then continued, "There is, however, a second option." At his signal, Perseus stepped forward, cradling a low glowing crystal ball in his hands. The orb seemed to hold a universe within it, stars twinkling mysteriously in its depths.

"This Crystal ball," Father Black said, his voice infused with a cautious hope, "can guarantee our safety. But it would mean confining ourselves, living like birds in a cage."

The room fell into a contemplative silence. The faces around him reflected a turmoil of emotions – fear, hope, and the burden of choice. The decision at hand was not just a tactical one; it was about the kind of future they wanted to carve out in this unpredictable and dangerous world.

"I call for a vote," Father Black announced, his voice echoing with the weight of responsibility. "Do we take another leap of faith with the Core, or do we choose the safety of the Crystal ball, accepting the limitations it brings?"

The room buzzed with hushed conversations. Some argued passionately for the jump, unwilling to sacrifice their freedom, while others advocated for the security promised by the crystal ball, despite the constraints. Every voice carried a story, a reason, a plea. The weight of their collective past and the uncertainty of their future hung in the balance.

As each member cast their vote, the tension was palpable. This was more than a strategic decision; it was a choice about who they were as a community and what they were willing to endure to survive. The outcome of this vote would set their course in these dark times, shaping not just their immediate future but the legacy of their struggle against the overwhelming odds they faced.

The vote, conducted swiftly yet solemnly, reflected the collective will of the people in Glenn's territory. The decision to utilize the crystal ball was perhaps a reflection of their desire for immediate safety over the uncertainty and potential dangers of another jump. For many, the idea of a sanctuary, even if it resembled a gilded cage, was preferable to the unpredictable perils of the outside world.

Father Black, however, stood somewhat apart from this consensus. As a war veteran, his perspective was shaped by experiences that taught him the value of taking the initiative, of being on the offensive rather than merely defensive.

He understood all too well that a strategy focused solely on defense could lead to a weakening of resolve and a loss of opportunities to turn the tide.

His belief that the best defense was a good offense was a principle forged in the fires of countless battles.

His gaze drifted to Crusher, the gladiator warrior, whose expression mirrored his own reservations. Crusher, a man who had faced innumerable challenges in the arena and on the battlefield, seemed to share Father Black's discomfort with the idea of passivity and containment.

Both men knew the psychological impact of being on the back foot, of being reactive rather than proactive.

Yet, despite their personal misgivings, the decision of the majority was clear. The people had spoken, choosing the security offered by the crystal ball. In a democracy, the will of the majority held sway, and as their leader, Father Black respected this principle, even if it went against his own instincts.

With a deep breath, Father Black prepared to address the room. "The decision has been made," he announced, his voice steady but tinged with the gravity of their situation. "We will use the crystal ball to ensure our safety. Let us all remember that this is but a phase in our long struggle. We are not giving up the fight; we are merely regrouping, gathering our strength for the challenges ahead."

As Father Black spoke, a sense of resolve settled over the room. The path forward was not what some had hoped for, but it was a path chosen together.

As the crystal ball was activated, a remarkable transformation began to unfold within the territory. From its center, a brilliant, thick white light shot skyward, a beacon of energy and power. This light slowly cascaded outwards in a majestic wave, encircling the entire territory in a protective embrace.

The light, pure and intense, gradually formed a colossal dome-like barrier, reminiscent of a gigantic crystal ball. It shimmered with a mesmerizing luminescence, casting an ethereal glow over everything within. This barrier, while entrapping them within its confines, also served as a formidable shield against any external threats. Within this luminous enclosure, the territory became an isolated sanctuary, a haven insulated from the dangers of the outside world.

Father Black, standing amidst his people as they watched the awe-inspiring spectacle, felt a mix of emotioans wash over him. Relief at their immediate safety was tinged with a sense of confinement and the daunting awareness of the challenges that still lay ahead. He sighed deeply, his gaze lingering on the light that now encapsulated them, a symbol of both protection and limitation.

In a moment of introspection, he found himself muttering a name laden with significance – "Lenny Tales, where the hell are you...?" The name, spoken almost like a prayer, was a testament to the desperate times they were in. Lenny Tales, a key to altering their current predicament, was absent when he was most needed.

As the territory settled into its new reality, enclosed within the protective but confining barrier, its inhabitants began to adapt to their temporary sanctuary. Plans were made, roles were assigned, and life continued, albeit under very different circumstances. But the question lingered in the air, unspoken yet pervasive – what would become of them in this self-imposed exile, and what role would Lenny Tales play if he were to return? The answers to these questions remained shrouded in uncertainty, leaving Father Black and his people to navigate the challenges of their new existence as best they could.

Unknown to them, they were not just locking themselves away from the problems of the outside world but also locking themselves with a very big problem. After all, Nikky, now undead was engaging in a feast, infecting others...