Back To Survive In The Frozen Apocalypse の小説・ストーリー

“That sounds ominous.” He placed the medical purchase records on her desk. She recognised the documents immediately. “Hypothermia treatment. Dehydration supplies. Emergency medical equipment. You have been asking about these things for months.” Victoria’s stomach tightened. She didn’t know Vivian made enquiries about hypothermia before the rebirth. She had already wondered whether Vivian’s preparations were entirely connected to the apocalypse. Now she had another reason to question what the original Vivian knew and when she knew it. But Adrian was watching her. She could not afford to react too strongly.

"They have enough air to survive two weeks if they sit still and don't waste energy screaming. Whether they choose to strangle each other over the last jug of water is entirely up to them." 【A logical tactical decision. Conserving power allocation on secondary targets optimizes our main energy reserve for Site Beta.】 I walked away from the command hub toward the subterranean armory on Level Three. The immediate threat of my betrayers was contained, but the apocalypse was far larger than three parasites in a gilded box. In my previous life, the true nightmare hadn't just been the extreme heat and ash—it had been the collapse of human order. Within forty-eight hours, rogue armed factions, desp

Worried Jack might take it seriously, Liam quickly pushed him away: "Just kidding! I only wanted to touch you for a quick energy boost. My batteries are full now, so I'm going back to my workout. Thanks, Jack~" He'd had his fun, and now he had his energy back. "..." Jack stared at him gloomily for a moment, then suddenly smiled. How could such a little brat be so annoying and still so lovable? ...... About half a month later, people slowly began to get used to the extreme cold. Their survival instincts kicked in, and their bodies adjusted bit by bit to the harsh weather the apocalypse had brought. After the adjustment period, the frozen world began to show signs of life again. New survivors

September, second year into the apocalypse. Under the Haylight League banner, Liam's teams spread out across the region, helping small bases fight back against the outward-surging zombie tide. Under the Haylight League banner, Milo led 300 elites to help Tomorrow Base break out. The Haylight League's core force continued its counteroffensive in Aecraton. In November, a cold wave hit. Hayley secured another central district. The small bases across Brookville and Crestford held firm through freezing winds and heavy snow. In February of the following year, the cold wave continued.

A pause later, I said, "There wasn't supposed to be a seventh slot, but I called in a lot of favors with the top guys, and they reluctantly gave me one. Ah, that reminds me. One of you is not going to come with us, obviously." My teammates would've roared with laughter, but they stayed as composed as their bodies and minds allowed them to. Against fully armed soldiers, Yvonne would never try to start anything funny. Trembling, she looked at her precious childhood friend. "Yves, I—" Yves didn't even wait for her to finish. He was already approaching the soldier, his face filled with an unctuous smile. "Take me. I was a famous musician before the zombie apocalypse. I'm a lot more useful than t

Joshua explained, "You've been trapped there for far too long, and it's taken too much from you. You need to rest. Here's my ration. You need to eat something. I have to go now. The team's waiting for me, but I'll be back." Joshua went away in a hurry. I looked at the plate. Hardtacks, water, and a couple of dried dates. The apocalypse’s freezing weather was hard to endure—even for metahumans. This was the best the team could manage, given the food shortage. The food was cold, but my heart was warm. 'Maybe he still cares about me,' I thought. 'But what's going on with him and Irene? Is Joshua cheating on me?' I was going to tear the hardtack's wrappings open when someone outside complained,

This collection was going to be a piece of cake, just as the rest of our stay in this post-apocalyptic world had been. Justine paved the charge to the front door, and Diana and Ricky separated to join Dr. Melendez in the control room to watch the gathering. We ended up waiting for Dr. Melendez to unlock the gate, and I almost shuddered. There was a new layer of accumulated snow on the ground, crunching beneath my shoes, and I drew my coat tightly about myself, struggling to remain warm. I only prayed my mittens wouldn't get in the way of my capability to squeeze the trigger on my handgun, but I couldn't take them off and jeopardize my fingers becoming desensitized and uncooperative.

The one that had ended three days before with the words, I hope the snake finds me. I had torn out that page and burned it in the washstand. Nobody was going to hope for a snake in this room. Under Day 89, I wrote a list. SHELTER. Somewhere high, dry and hidden, with a water source. FOOD. Enough to feed a hundred people for a year. WATER. Clean. Filtered. Stored. MEDICINE. Anything Molly's family can brew. PEOPLE. The ones who will not abandon us. BEAST CORES. Currency, fuel, weapons.

The third day of the apocalypse was a study in desolation. The satellite uplink showed a world transformed, its familiar landmarks buried under ice and snow, its streets empty of life. The city was dead, its population reduced to a few thousand scattered survivors who huddled in basements and tunnels, their bodies struggling to generate enough heat to keep their vital organs functioning. The cold had killed the vast majority, their bodies frozen into grotesque sculptures that littered the streets like macabre decorations.

That debt had to be settled properly. Three days later, on a stormy night with pouring rain, a battered armored vehicle—barely holding together—smashed through the gates of the villa complex. Callie and Dan crawled out of the car, covered in mud and looking utterly miserable. Behind them, more than a dozen mutated zombies were chasing them. “Help! Is anyone there? Help!” Callie screamed, her voice hoarse. Dan gripped a machete in his hand, but it was useless against mutated zombies.