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My Last Apocalypse

I can't explain why or how this cycle repeats for me. Yet, what I do understand is each time I die, I return to the starting point, a zombie apocalypse, and continue my journey anew. In my first apocalypse, I overlooked the creeping signs of doom until overrun by zombies in my flat, where I perished in sheer terror. The second attempt to alert others of the impending chaos fell on deaf ears; labelled a lunatic, I fled the city, only to succumb to starvation and exposure alone in the wild. By the third go, I sought safety in wealth, collecting vast supplies, yet fell victim to a brutal gang. Now, understanding the key—precise foresight, survival skills, strict secrecy, and solitude—I see the purpose in reliving this collapse. This time, failure is not an option. This time, I will survive and outlive the apocalypse.

TK_Selwyn · Fantaisie
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155 Chs

People from a cult

As we draw closer to the building, Yui stops in her tracks, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of surprise and caution.

"It's all cleaned up," she murmurs, disbelief colouring her tone. Her brows furrow as she takes in the eerily pristine streets, devoid of any signs of the infected that once plagued the area.

True to her word, there are no infected in sight, a stark contrast to the horde-ridden scenario she had described. The area looks unnervingly deserted, with not a single soul to be seen in the vicinity. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the occasional gust of wind rustling through the abandoned buildings.

"Perhaps the flood got rid of them?" Sue suggests, trying to make sense of the emptiness. Her voice is tinged with uncertainty, as if she's grasping at straws to explain the unsettling absence of the infected.

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