Apocalypse Of All Races Novels & Stories

Handwriting from twelve years ago — the strokes heavier than they were now, the flourishes drawn wide and loose, like someone who wasn't afraid of wasting paper. I turned to page twelve. A layout diagram of the bunker. Seven bunks, one incubation unit, the storeroom at the end of the hallway, the concrete-sealed door nearly two feet thick. In the bottom right corner of the diagram, a note in my own handwriting: "The apocalypse has to feel real. Push the heat up, make the water filthy — let the audience practically smell it. Rotate the insiders every season, keep one genuinely unwitting participant — protects the ratings." After "genuinely unwitting," there was a note in parentheses. Just one

Only, not a single person is awake to witness it. This time, Christmas gift to humanity is apocalypse. Santa rushed to make it an early delivery.

That was also why our security was the best in the whole city. I only found out in my last life that, after the world was hit by the deadly heatwave, a lot of desperate people showed up. In the apocalypse, humanity meant little. Everyone answered only to themselves. But our community was the only one that never got attacked by any looters, all thanks to the top-notch security forces here. It stayed safe until the scientists finally managed to build weather bombs strong enough to fight off the deadly heat, and the heatwave finally ended. Everyone in our community survived.

“Do you know what an apocalypse means, Xavier?” Elder Obada walked up to where he was and sat on his bed and Xavier sat up as he stared at the Elder. “A war perhaps?” Xavier frowned. “A war that brings about the end of all lives on the planet?” Elder Obada shrugged. “Close enough. The apocalypse is the end, the end of all lives. You would meet your own apocalypse just like your father met his. You know the story of how your ancestors died right?” Xavier swallowed hard and nodded. “I can remember very clearly.”

On May 5, 2023, at 16:37 everyone fell asleep. In which everyone becomes paranoid, thinking about conspiracy theories, not finding a cure, but until then and in a short time, thousands of people would fall into despair, they would all literally, would be afraid, create new viruses that would literally emerge diseases, aftereffects. The world that will take the people who are left in a bad economy, so bad that the world would fall into a series of problems, which would simply lead to people being taken by the wind, by the plague, the horsemen of the apocalypse returning to the world, thousands of people just couldn't deal with each other, fights, conflicts, wars that would never end, whatever

The apocalypse did happen. But it wasn't the end of the world. It was the start of a tyrant world ruled by a superior race—the bloodsucking kind. I had been running away from this nightmare-come-true for four years. Our family hid underground from the global chaos that went around the continents. The global domination was led by the newcomers. In fact, the newcomers were not new but rather ancient. We remembered learning in school that Homo sapiens were not the only species to walk the earth, and we were right.

He approached Shawn and whisper to his ear, “This is how simple my advice for you, just make sure you don’t die, or else, I will be the one who will kill you whether you’re in hell or heaven.” “W-what do you mean?” his nervousness started to cripple his body. He sighed in frustration, "It seems that I have no choice but to tell you," he walked towards him, "Chaos and destruction are on their way to hunt you so you need to prepare for what's coming. Always remember that you are the key." Shawn shakes his head in disagreement, "I don't understand what you're talking about. You must be mistaken." The man smiled again at him, “You’ll know soon enough, but it’s time for me to go so I’ll see you a

Chapter Thirteen The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse The Curdo Empire didn’t just crumble because of Kael; one man could only do so much. What led to its downfall was famine, plague, and war. As Elena walked through the bustling village market, the colors and laughter around her felt somehow marred by a shadow. The vibrancy of life seemed to pulse alongside an undercurrent of fear and despair, a sinister tune playing just beneath the surface of everyday existence. It was the way the air felt charged, thick with the promise of change—not the blessed kind, but a foreboding shift that hinted at the arrival of something far more dire.

“Because it is contaminated with something dangerous. I cannot properly explain its composition, but the fishes in that river are all dead, and the water has gradually turned black.” Another subject scoffed. “So you’re suggesting that dirty water is responsible for the plague?” “I’m suggesting that whatever has contaminated the water is responsible for the creatures we’ve been fighting.” King Uthred raised his hand, silencing the murmurs. “And how exactly does this connect to the apocalypse you keep speaking about?”

But this time, she had sworn to herself that she would do everything possible to save him, no matter what it took. “Listen, Lucian. I know you can't remember what happened in our past life, but this is crucial.” She paused, her voice growing more urgent. “The world is coming to an end in ninety days. I'm not saying this because I want to frighten you. No, I've seen it happen right before my eyes, Lucian. Everything you see around you now will go extinct.” She pointed towards the television mounted on the wall. “This is just the beginning.”