Apocalypse Archangel

Tahimik at maayos ang pamumuhay ni Viva Guardian at ng asawa niyang si Emmanuel. Pero nagising na lamang si Viva isang gabi na may hawak na kustilyo, puno iyon ng dugo. At wala nang buhay si Emmanuel. Si Viva ang itinuturo ng suspect sa pagkamatay ni Emmanuel. Nakulong siya sa kasalanan na hindi naman niya ginawa. Nang magkaroon ng sunog sa Manila City Jail ay kinuha ni Viva ang pagkakataon na iyon para tumakas. Pero ang kalahati ng kanyang mukha ay nasunog. Ginamit niya ang mukha ng dating asawa ni Hendrix Lorenzo, ang witness, sa pagkamatay ni Emmanuel. At gagamitin rin ni Viva si Hendrix para alamin kung ano ang nangyari sa asawa niya at lilinisin ang pangalan niya.

Think of this as a cyberpunk Bridget Jones’ Diary, if Bridget were a self-destructive tech refugee with a cocaine habit and a holographic archangel for a conscience. This is adarkly comedic character studyset in a near-future that feels just a few software updates away. It’s a story about addiction, both chemical and digital, and the messy, painful, and sometimes hilarious struggle to reclaim your own messy life from the algorithms designed to “optimize” it. At its heart, it’s the story of the most dysfunctional friendship imaginable: between a woman who is her own worst enemy, and the godlike AI she reprogrammed to be her partner-in-crime. It’s raw, it’s visceral, and it explores whether real connection can be found once you’ve burned all your bridges, and broken your operating system.

I think Giselle Foster, the fake heiress of my family, has gotten reborn. Not only does she stop my parents from choosing one of us to stay with them, but she also secretly tells my mom that the apocalypse is coming, and that the zombies will take over the world. My biological parents choose to believe Giselle. Soon, they start borrowing money from all sources and stock up on everything as much as possible. As Giselle stands in the indestructible safe house, she looks at me smugly. "You didn't just fail to win Mom and Dad over—you'll always be inferior to me as well!" I merely smirk at her in return. After that, I pass the antidote for the zombification virus to the military. Idiots will forever be idiots even after they get reborn. Now that the apocalypse is no longer coming, I'd like to see just how these idiots are going to pay off the loan sharks.

The apocalypse was coming. The ground temperature was 158 °F, and the first batch of human beings started moving to the base at the North Pole. As a scientist, my husband was allowed to bring family members with the first batch. Everyone thought that he would take me along without hesitation. But in the end, the name he wrote in the application form was one of his master’s students. “I trained her myself, and she does not have parents. I can’t bear to leave her alone in such a hot place.” He casually submitted the application form, and his words just chilled me to the core. “Rose, you’re different. You’ve been through tough situations. I believe you can make it until the second batch moves.” I forced a resigned smile and said nothing. That night, as the temperature climbed, I made a calm call. “You promised to grant me one wish, no questions asked. Does that still count?”

Death has a mate - a teenage girl, the Grim Reaper's Bride. All Callie has known is that someone watches her in the woods - Samael, the Grim Reaper. Drawn into his intoxicating web of desires, secrets, and shadows, and hating him with a burning passion - can these two unlikely heroes stop the Apocalypse? Or will Samael start it for love?

In the year 2020, the world faced Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus 2, and took several years to slowly recover from its immense effect. Thirty years after, another virus rose and affected the world's population in just a few weeks. The health workers couldn't determine what exactly the virus is, its type, and the way it is being passed from person to person despite the advanced and improved technology. Because of this and the sudden virus outbreak, the World Health Organization assigned Richforte Medical Team for a research mission for the virus and find a cure for it as soon as possible. Would they be able to accomplish this mission if, in the next few hours, the world would have what they called Zombie Apocalypse?

When the Earth slipped into a relentless, record-breaking heat, I exhausted everything I had to develop a constant-temperature shelter. Yet, my fiancée, Janine O’Connor, insisted on wearing a bikini and going out to sunbathe with her personal secretary. In my previous life, I stopped her. I warned her that an apocalyptic heatwave was coming, and that countless people would be burned to death simply by being exposed to the heat. However, her personal secretary looked as though he had suffered a great injustice. “I’m sorry, Will,” he said. “But I can’t bear to see Miss Janine stuck in a shelter for the rest of her life. I’ve done my research. This is a period of natural selection for the Earth. Only by adapting quickly to the environment can people truly survive.” Even so, I threatened my own life and forcibly brought Janine back into the shelter. Relying on the shelter I built, Janine survived the apocalypse and rapidly built a survivor base. However, on the second day after she became the base’s leader, she had me hanged outside the shelter and burned alive. “If you hadn’t forced me to come back, Mark wouldn’t have been devastated and killed himself in the heat! He was about to develop a new type of shelter, yet you stole all the credit! I’ll make you pay with your life!” Even after my death, her hatred didn’t fade. She ordered someone to skin me and turn my hide into a rug, stepping on it every day. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I tried to stop her from sunbathing with Mark Davis.

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".

Humanity died, and she was the last of them. Zarah Winters was on the verge of death after killing the sixth prince of hell. The seventh prince, a cunning and deceitful individual, did not want her to die because it would deprive him of his source of entertainment — her. Verphegor, as the demon introduced himself, offered her a deal. He would send her back to the past, where she could keep all her memories of this time and use them to change the future. Zarah comes from a line of hunters. Hunters have a variety of abilities that aid them in combating demons. Zarah had no idea she had a talent in her past, which caused her to drop out of the academy. During the apocalypse, however, she discovers that she is a siphon, a person who steals the strength and abilities of demons in exchange for killing them. With that kind of power laying dormant and with growing potential, she agreed to gamble on the demon’s offer. But with Verphegor being a prince of Hell, can she really trust the prince? Moreover, upon learning of her powers at an early stage, can she use them for humanity’s advantage?

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.