Novel & Cerita Apocalypse Aesthetic

Outside everything looked very wet, and the sky still had clouds, so it would probably rain that day, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and do everything that should be done, I didn't change my clothes since I would be at home and would still feel comfortable and warm with my pajamas, I went to the kitchen and started preparing my breakfast, opened the refrigerator and saw the sandwich that Draven had made for me was simple but seemed tasty and as I was lazy to do something else to eat I settled for bread stuffed with tuna pate, with coffee ready and with three sandwiches in hand I headed for the couch. I took my coffee watching the documentary of the morning was about owls and their wi

No longer cloaked in the beauty of his delusion his beastly appearance was visible to the world. “And you are one ugly son of a bitch.” Lucifer reeled and Gabriel took his chance. He lunged forward but Lucifer let out a roar so powerful it blew him tumbling back toward the tree line. The Reapers leaped to their feet swords at the ready. “This world and everything in it is going to burn,” Lucifer seethed. “For I am the apocalypse!”

Aesthetic's POV: “ I see… “ I murmured while looking at Spade's cold eyes then gulped many times to settle this uncomfortable feeling. “ I’m Aesthetic, but you can all call me Thea. “ I stated while wearing a fake smile on my face. How can I even smile if I know that I was sorrounded by these non-human creatures? They're all gorgeous but the fact that they have some hidden fangs inside their mouths make me wanna run away from here. “ We know. You were the one who stopped us to get inside Ace' office once. “ The man named King said with his fearful aura. There’s no doubt that he’s the sin of wrath, he’s so scary even when he talks. But why are they all considered as sins? I remember that ther

After I was done, I quickly returned to my hostel to open up my box of bottled water. This was the big surprise I prepared for everyone. I wanted to see if they could survive the apocalypse with whatever was in the box, which was more than twenty bottles of hot sauce.

Especially after hearing my parents’ excessive accusations, his expression was one of pure shock. Over the years, he knew my relationship with my parents wasn’t good, but this kind of undisguised dislike was something he was seeing for the first time. Adrian clasped his fingers awkwardly. Panic and guilt flickered in his eyes, but more than that, there was expectation. An expectation that I would take this chance to step down gracefully. At that moment, my heart sank completely. This was his apology. Using my parents’ bias and Bella’s performance to force me into admitting that I had overthought everything, that I was the one being unreasonable.

I remembered the first day of the apocalypse when cities turned into hell on earth as the streets filled with screams and blood. I remembered the countless deaths I'd seen over the last three years. The elderly, the children, my comrades, and those strangers. I remembered the people who were killed by their loved ones because of infection, and those who turned into zombies in the depths of despair. "I'll do it," I said. Uriah was so ecstatic that he almost jumped out of his chair. Iris merely nodded, as if she had expected my answer all along. In the days that followed, I became the research center's most special "guest".

If he knew I was from the future, I don't know what would happen but I have a feeling that the power dynamic would shift entirely. ​I forced my expression to freeze, quickly masking the panic behind a cool, detached facade. ​"The revelation came broadly," I lied smoothly, holding his intense gaze without blinking. "When I first saw this apocalyptic future, it was a large collection of information. I didn't just see pictures. I was forced to feel the terror, the sights, and the exact mechanics of how civilization falls. I know how they move because I've felt the weight of the in my head. It's as if… I lived it myself."

I bang on a pot with a spoon, singing a off-key nursery rhyme at the top of my lungs. It is a war of aesthetics. A battle for his soul fought with color and sound. My creations are not good. They are not beautiful. But they are true. They are real. They are us. And their sheer, mundane, clashing joy is a dissonance the Muse cannot tolerate. It feeds on refined sorrow, not on messy, loud happiness. The clash of our creations—his dark perfection, my bright chaos—creates a psychic static that shakes the workshop. The Muse flickers, its beautiful form destabilizing. It cannot process this. It cannot consume this.

Right now, those three greedy fools were sitting in an empty house, stewing in the humiliation of being outplayed by the woman they had written off completely. Five hundred thousand dollars, gone. Four bare walls, and nothing but regret to keep them company. But this was only the BEGINNING. When the apocalypse came and it was coming ...they would finally learn what REAL despair felt like. And she would be watching. Safe behind walls they would never find, her daughters at her side, as every single monster who had ever hurt them was swallowed, one by one, by the world they had never seen coming. The real revenge had only just begun.