Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 71: The Self-Destruct Sequence

Watching the colossal Acid-Web Arachnid close the distance, Jax felt a cold knot of fear tighten in his stomach.

The psychological pressure of facing a Tier 3 insectoid was crushing. If he waited until it breached the perimeter to detonate, the resulting swarm of spiderlings would flood the base instantly. If he went down there, he might be caught in the blast radius.

But if he stayed put, the monster would tear through his defenses like wet paper.

Jax gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening. “Damn it! I have to risk it!”

He turned to the team on the platform, his voice cutting through the storm. “Keep firing! I’m going down there to draw its aggro!”

Without waiting for a protest, Jax grabbed the rappelling rope and slid down the wall.

His boots hit the mud with a wet splat.

The Black Rain had been falling for a week straight. The earth was no longer soil; it was a slurry of toxic sludge. Every step sent dirty water splashing up his legs, soaking his pants instantly.

He had no umbrella, no raincoat, and no armor against the elements. Within seconds, he was drenched to the bone.

Jax wiped the rain from his eyes. The water stung, laden with industrial impurities, but short-term exposure wouldn’t kill him. The giant spider, however, definitely would.

He broke into a sprint, heading toward the breach.

The Acid-Web Arachnid was moving methodically. It paused frequently to spit thick, white webs into the air, intercepting the Howitzer shells. This defensive behavior slowed its advance, buying Jax a window of opportunity.

He stopped about a hundred meters away, planting his feet in the mud. He needed to angle himself perfectly to pull it away from the main gate.

Just as Jax prepared to flank it, the creature’s multiple eyes swiveled toward him. It reared back, its mandibles clicking, and fired a jet of pressurized silk directly at him.

“Shit! Already?”

Jax threw himself to the side, rolling through the muck.

Thwip!

The glob of webbing flew past his ear with the sound of a cracking whip, missing him by inches. Cold sweat mingled with the rain on his forehead.

“Too close,” he gasped, scrambling to his feet. “Way too close!”

The web hit a rock behind him, expanding instantly into a sticky, unbreakable net. Jax ducked under a hanging strand and kept moving.

Luckily, the creature had a cooldown period between sprays. It couldn’t fire continuously.

Jax used the precious seconds to circle behind the monster, putting himself between the spider and the outer Wall.

“Hey, ugly!” Jax waved his arms, screaming over the roar of the rain. “Over here! Come get me!”

He didn’t know if the insectoid understood taunts, but it definitely understood prey.

Seeing a fresh target darting across its peripheral vision, the Acid-Web Arachnid’s eyes flashed with a menacing crimson light. It pivoted on its eight massive legs and lunged at him.

Jax turned and ran.

“What the hell!?” Jax screamed as he glanced back. “That’s fast! Gareth, you said it was as slow as a Sandworm! You’re totally screwing me over!”

The creature was surging forward, its legs blurring as it picked up speed.

Jax sprinted for the corner of the Wall, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He made the turn just as a claw slammed into the earth where he had been standing. The creature scrambled to correct its course, losing momentum on the turn.

Jax pressed his back against the concrete, listening to the terrified scritch-scratch of chitin on stone.

“Second Wall cleared,” he panted. “Is it still chasing?”

He quickly checked the cooldown on his Decoy Clone skill.

“Good. It’s ready. I can’t afford any mistakes now, or I’m—”

“Boss!” A desperate shout drifted down from the platform above. It was Kaleb. “Run! It’s going to Self-Destruct!”

Jax froze.

He peeked around the corner.

The Acid-Web Arachnid had stopped chasing. Its bulbous body was trembling violently, swelling up like a grotesque balloon. The damage from the Howitzer Turret had finally pushed it to critical mass.

“Take cover!” Jax roared into his radio. “It’s gonna blow! Watch out for the acid!”

He didn’t wait to see if they listened. He scrambled toward the final defensive wall, diving behind a large boulder just as the creature reached its limit.

THUMP.

The explosion wasn’t a sharp crack like a grenade. It was a dull, wet sound—like a massive balloon filled with soup bursting under pressure.

Splat. Splatter. Drip.

A rain of green slime and viscera pelted the other side of the wall. It sounded like someone was dumping buckets of rotten vegetables and acid from the sky.

“Ugh, the smell!”

Jax pulled his collar up over his nose. The stench was a physical assault—rotting meat and burning chemicals. The venomous mist began to diffuse into the air, turning the rain into a toxic fog.

[System Notification: Mission Complete.] [Reward: Tar Pit Trap Blueprint x1]

Jax let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He had the blueprint.

But the danger wasn’t over. The explosion was just the delivery system.

The “Self-Destruct” didn’t just kill the host; it released the payload.

Jax stood up and immediately activated his skill.

“Decoy Clone!”

A holographic duplicate of himself shimmered into existence ten meters away—exactly at the edge of his skill’s range.

From the smoking crater of the spider’s corpse, a rustling sound emerged. It sounded like a thousand dry leaves skittering across pavement.

Jax peered through the gloom.

The ground was moving. Hundreds—no, thousands—of fist-sized black spiders were pouring out of the wreckage, their legs moving in a blur as they swarmed over the puddles.

Jax had nowhere to run. If he retreated deeper into the valley, he’d be exposed. If he ran for the gate, he’d have to cross the swarm.

“Gambling on the clone,” Jax whispered, backing away slowly.

The Decoy Clone stood motionless in the rain, emitting a high-frequency lure signal that only the insectoids could sense.

The tide of black death shifted. The spiderlings ignored the real Jax and surged toward the hologram.

Within seconds, the glowing blue figure was completely completely buried under a writhing, shifting mound of black legs and clicking mandibles.

Jax felt his scalp tingle intensely. The sight of the densely packed creatures made his skin crawl, his trypophobia instantly maxing out.

“Oh god. Oh god.”

He scratched at his head involuntarily, feeling phantom legs crawling all over him.

BOOM!

A shell from the Tier 2 Howitzer Turret screamed down from the sky.

It struck the center of the Decoy Clone with surgical precision.

The explosion blossomed into a fireball, shredding the hologram and the mound of spiders instantly.

“Yes!” Jax pumped his fist. “That’s what I’m talking about! The splash damage is insane!”

The swarm was vaporized. The spiderlings, terrifying in numbers, had zero defense against heavy artillery.

Jax crept forward to inspect the damage.

The ground was coated in a glowing green slurry. Countless tiny, charred legs floated in the puddles.

“Looks like the main force is down,” he muttered.

He turned to sprint toward the safety of the platform, his legs pumping like pistons.

But as he rounded the corner, he skidded to a halt.

A second wave of spiderlings—stragglers that had been too slow to reach the clone—was cutting across his path.

Jax stood face-to-face with fifty of the venomous critters.

“Awkward,” Jax whispered, eyes widening. “Am I seriously going to die to the leftovers?”

He didn’t wait to find out.

He leaped at a concrete support pillar for the wall, wrapping his arms and legs around it. The concrete was slick with rain and moss. He clawed his way up, muscles burning, slipping back an inch for every two inches he gained.

“Come on!” he grunted, dragging himself up to the two-meter mark.

He looked down. The ground below seemed like a bottomless abyss of death. One slip, one bite, and he would melt into a puddle of goo.

But then, something strange happened.

The spiderlings didn’t look up. They scurried right past the pillar, their sensory organs locked onto the location where the Decoy Clone had been.

Jax stared, dumbfounded. “Are they… are they blind?”

They ignored his heat, his scent, and his noise. They were simple biological machines, programmed to attack the strongest signal—which was still the lingering signature of the clone.

Jax waited until the last one scuttled past, then slid down the pillar like a fireman.

He didn’t hesitate. His legs were like they had engines installed, propelling him through the mud toward the ramp.

“Move, move, move!”

He sprinted up the walkway and collapsed onto the platform, gasping for air.

Before he could even sit up, a heavy weight slammed into him.

Barnaby dropped to his knees, grabbing Jax’s arm with snot-covered hands. The giant man had cried into a tearful mess.

“Bro! I thought you were a goner! Waaah!”

Jax chuckled breathlessly, patting Barnaby’s shaking shoulder. “Lucky. Just… lucky to be alive.”

The artillery fire ceased. The silence of the wasteland returned, broken only by the hiss of the rain.

Kaleb lowered his binoculars, a look of pure relief washing over his face.

“They’re gone,” Kaleb announced. “The spiderlings are dispersing. We’re clear.”

Jax glanced back toward the valley floor. The battlefield was a mess of craters and slime, but nothing was moving.

“Good,” Jax groaned, letting his head fall back against the cold metal of the floor. “I’m exhausted. Wake me up when the rain stops.”

Supported by his team, Jax limped back into the fortress, alive to fight another day.