Books On Post Apocalyptic Fiction Novels & Stories

When they finally finished, they dragged me outside into the wasteland. The base had been transformed into a sprawling post-apocalyptic settlement. Burned-out vehicles served as shelters, barbed wire fences marked territories, flickering fires burned in metal barrels, and groups of “survivors”— all rich Club members dressed in ragged, sexy post-apocalyptic costumes— roamed the area like predators. The sky was artificially darkened with massive screens, making it feel like the real end of the world. I was thrown into the center of the main camp, landing on my hands and knees in the dirt.

I rubbed my forehead gently, feeling a little throbbing in my head that made me a little dizzy. I could barely tell if it was day or night as I gazed out the window. But each day was dragging me closer to the apocalypse. And as strong as I felt, even with better vision that I could see people walking from kilometres away, I didn't know if I was ready for it. If I was going to not only survive the apocalypse but also take in survivors who would have nowhere else to go. With a sigh, I was about to make my way downstairs when a crazy thought clicked in my head and my lips curled into a smile.

It is only because of this job she could go home, relax in her tub and read a web novel before sleep even after the apocalypse. Her favorite are rebirth apocalypse novels and dashing hero ones. After all, we only ever like fantasy when reality is utterly disappointing. There is no way to reincarnate even with all the weird abilities going around. If there were any good men in the world, they did not survive past the first week of the apocalypse. She knew very well what she would do if she were the lead of either story. If she were to be reborn before the apocalypse, she would blow her brains out after killing her entire family.

We'll deal with that problem if shifting becomes a necessity. The outpost has grown to three times the size it was during our last visit. Not in the least pretty, it's a ragtag mess that somehow manages to appear organized. Humans slapped together houses, huts, and cabins with whatever material available or used trailers and semitrucks as living quarters. Designated spaces much like campgrounds before the apocalypse give each family a small area of their own. A cordoned-off square, in the center of town, has trade good stands with people gathered around, looking through wares and bargaining with their own products. Paper money is good for nothing but wiping your bum in the new world. This to

I began to read and to train my body. Immersed in the ocean of knowledge, my heart grew fuller and calmer than it had ever been. A strong, healthy body was the greatest asset for enduring this long apocalypse. Occasionally, I would access the global surveillance network to glimpse the world being scorched by heatwaves. The traces of civilization were being erased at breathtaking speed. Skyscrapers grew brittle and collapsed under the relentless heat. Forests turned to scorched earth. The oceans evaporated, revealing jagged seabeds and countless skeletal remains of once-living creatures.

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.

With my ability to live just by absorbing the water particles in the air, I was guaranteed to survive the apocalypse. I boarded up all the windows except for the one near the balcony as a safety precaution. I then picked up the novel I had been reading. It was part of the resources that I had quickly gathered while everyone was busy fighting over the money and mocking me earlier. I had a few novels, card games, and puzzles. Although they seemed to be useless in a plant apocalypse, they were essential in keeping me sane in an isolated environment.

Not only that, but the setting will be post-apocalyptic, where the survivors have varying degrees of psychic powers. Most people will have low-level abilities, such as telepathy and empathy. Some will have incredible powers able to manipulate the physical world with their minds, such as telekinesis and precognition. A handful will be able to literally warp what’s real with a thought (sometimes carelessly). The novel will explore similar themes of power and corruption, but mostly fresh ones regarding reality and perception. Specifically, the differences between natural reality vs manufactured reality, and truth vs disinformation. Kinda like what we’re seeing politically across the globe.

It was the smile of a predator who had finally been turned loose in a pen of defenseless sheep. This is what I love about post apocalypse the most: they no longer check your crime records. I adjusted my grip on my pack, feeling the familiar weight of the tools I had kept hidden beneath the mundane supplies. I wasn't just here to survive. I was here to thrive. The wall that kept the dead out also kept the living in, locked in a cage where the rules of civilization had evaporated, and where the only thing that mattered was not whether you were a good person, but whether you were still breathing.

“ The sky that can be seen wide open, the ground that was in a total mess, things around me fully wrecked to fragments, just what the fucking hell happened to the earth?? Looking at the furniture, none of them even survived. The refrigerator that was placed in the kitchen, it was crumbled and disfigured. “Who… what in the world did this?” It looks just like the game I always play—what am I thinking? This is impossible. It is far beyond my imagination. Never once in my life did I think that this was capable of happening in reality. With a full load of thoughts on my mind, I can’t help but look around and analyze the things that are happening in front of me. Everything is a mess. All the furni