Dystopian Apocalypse Novels & Stories

The transition from "Gods of the Code" to "Leaders of the Ash" was a brutal education in logistics. Within forty-eight hours of the Apex takeover, the Needle City had transformed. The upper tiers remained a lush, high-tech garden, but the lower tiers—the "Mechanical Gut" of the spire—were now a teeming, chaotic metropolis of millions. The refugees from the Stack were waking up to the three horsemen of the Real: Cold, Hunger, and Scarcity.

Hayley had analyzed long ago why Scott's base was doomed to fall. But she had to admit that when Scott's war machine first ignited, it was the most terrifyingly powerful force of the early apocalypse. The apocalypse demanded extreme centralization. Only by compressing human strength into a single will could people fight back against it. Scott was exactly that kind of madman, someone willing to sacrifice everything for absolute control. And as for people like that, Hayley's feelings were very clear.

"They say the Earth is a 'nursery' that has reached its expiration date. They say the soil is poisoned by too much history. If we don't cross now, we stay here for the sterilization of the next cycle. They won't stop until the Gene is gone." ​I looked out through the shattered windows of the Spire at the horizon. The red fire of the Architects' field was gone, but the world below was a chaotic mess of smoke, fire, and societal collapse. Aethelgard was a broken cage, the Red Wasteland was a vast graveyard, and the pack was scattered across a planet that now knew we existed—and likely feared us more than they feared the Hive. We were monsters in the eyes of the people we had just saved.

Jane was the first to react, cursing at me, “You bitch, what nonsense are you spouting—an ability? Go die!” David immediately turned to Victor with forced respect. “Mr. Kane, my nephew has a fever. He’s probably about to awaken an ability too. Please kill Apple and avenge my son! Our whole family will follow you to the death and do whatever you command!” “I can die right now.” I looked Victor straight in the eye. “No one knows how many years this apocalypse will last. But I can promise you this—you won’t find anyone else who can give you clean water as quickly as I can.”

It was the ultimate wipe-out skill. Watching the scene unfold, a trace of fanatic excitement flashed in my eyes. I had gambled right. In this apocalypse where all order had collapsed, Ruth was the strongest cheat code, the biggest powerhouse I could cling to. And Callie’s armored vehicle? What was that compared to this?

She stumbled a little as I pushed her through the door, and a photograph slipped out of her pocket and fell to the floor. I picked it up. It was a signed photo, and something about the face tugged at my memory. Before the apocalypse, Anna had been a singer. She brightened immediately. "Do you want me to sign one for you too? Rhett used to come to all my shows back then." I frowned and turned the photo over. On the back was a picture of Anna and Rhett together. A date was printed in the corner. March 21, 2060. The world tilted. That was the day the apocalypse hit, the day we fled, and the day Ophelia fell into the fissure and never came back up.

" I'm just saying, I don't want to disturb anything, but the city is becoming chaos. I think it would be wise to leave before we are stuck in any barrier they put so they don't let us out. If the country intends to go to war, it will want to keep everyone inside their homes. In fact, around the police station, some barriers to control traffic had already been placed. Humanity was moving towards the end of those punishments. And I didn't know why I felt so heavy and sad. Maybe I already knew that the ending was not as pleasant as I imagined. "Do you think they can do that?" Asked Anne, shocked, turning to Zylah." Will they confine us and wait until they have enough answers to all the bizarren

That was the ringtone for my alarm. I hurriedly grabbed my phone with shaky hands as I glanced at the date and I audibly gasped in shock. The date was staring right at me, unblinking and I had to rub my eyes to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. It was indeed June 19th, 2665. The apocalypse happened July 19th. One month from today. I refused to believe that this was real. There was no way that I woke up one month before the city of Sloradath was reduced to ruins. But I knew everything that happened was too real to be a dream.

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

she convinced herself. “I don't need you" she muttered. The system disappeared. She looked at her calander... Still three years before the apocalypse. She circle the date. She brought out a note book, “I need to get everything under my control" She jotted down, when the apocalypse came, the date zombie appeared, the first building she that collapsed the safe house, the location where supplies her hidden, the place she went to get the crystal. She looked at the paper, a smile escape her lips.