Novels About Survival Novels & Stories

She had to put this matter to rest and free herself from the burden that had been weighing on her. Gathering her resolve, Ayleen continued, "I was thinking about a lot of things, especially some of the characters in my novel." "Huh? What do you mean?" Liam asked, his brows knitting together in confusion. Ayleen scratched her ear as she searched for words that would sound convincing. "You already know I want to become a writer. At the time, I was thinking about the plot of my novel. I was imagining a male lead with a terrifying personality." She paused, carefully choosing a safer way to continue.

, Croads, a middle-aged woman with brown hair and glasses, said. Except, it's not. She's dealing with enough right now. "Are you close with the victim?", SSA Briggs questioned, looking at me curiously. Briggs is practically a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair, very thin. "She's not a victim. Don't call her that. Her name is Amelia, and she's a survivor", I couldn't stop the words from flowing from my mouth. "The only one", Briggs uttered. "So you are close to her? Have you considered that being the reason for not catching him yet?", Croads said coldly. "Croads", Loveless snapped, shaking his head at her.

~Yeah, it’s a bit depressing but I’ve only been focused on surviving. “Wait, then what about the bath?” ~Hygiene.~ “Salts?” ~Drying food.~ “Umm… the beds!” ~To prevent body sores.~ “The elevator??” ~Shortens time.~ “So everything you’ve made was for the purpose of survival?” David nods. ~I prioritized survival and everything else was secondary.~ “Oh, goddess… you’ve had a miserable time!” David scrunches his face. ~I already told you this.~

Lennon didn’t like the idea of hiding, because it will one day fail, if not on the first day, it’s better to be prepared than sorry, they can still hide but they have to train, not just Noah but them too. If they want to stay alive in this world next year, they have to at least know some martial arts, know how to use weapons and vehicles, that’s the bare minimum, he wasn’t even considering the resources they will need, the place they are going to stay at, the informations they will need, there are a lot of things to consider for this apocalypse, so they will have to stay up all night to discuss it. ‘Damn you Nova.’

The crowd erupted in quiet cheers, whistles, claps, and laughter—joy sweeping through the clearing like sunlight breaking through clouds. I found myself smiling so wide my cheeks ached. Tonight, we remembered. And tonight, we celebrated. We were more than survivors—we were something new. And we were just getting started. *Note from the author* Book two Starts in the next chapter. "What Rose From the Ashes" I hope everyone has enjoied reading "What Survived the Burn" as much as I have enjoied writing it. This is why I see no other way than to begin book two...

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.

"This is actually a reverse harem novel. There are two romance routes in this story—one where Evelyn finds herself with Rafael, and another where she ends up with Xavier. You're the shared female antagonist in both routes," the system explained. I was at a complete loss for words. "Bet you didn't see that coming, didn't you?" I took a deep breath, then another. "System," I said. "Yes, I'm here." "Can I request to blow up this godforsaken world right now?" I gritted out.

“I learned your language before I learned how to survive it.” There it was at last, exposed and ugly in the chamber light. Not good against evil. Not saviour against monster. Two women who had survived the same hunger in different ways and built opposing faiths from the wreckage. One believed survival demanded endurance. The other believed endurance had become collaboration. And I was standing in the middle, expected to decide which wound the future should inherit.

Winter in the mountains is a thing of brutal beauty. The snow falls with an almost ceremonial precision, layering itself across the landscape in progressively deeper drifts. The mornings are bitter cold—cold that seeps into your bones and makes you question whether you'll ever feel warm again. But there's also a strange clarity to it, as if the cold strips away everything unnecessary and leaves you facing only what matters. Solace's training did that for us—stripped away the unnecessary and forced us to face what we actually were. Survivors, mostly. People who hadn't asked for the ability to fight, but found ourselves in a situation where that ability might be the only thing standing between

Only 45 people were left, with Omari taking up 25 spots, which meant that unless the remaining 20 people's stats miraculously shot up, midnight would be their collective elimination. "We cannot let Omari's people get those emergency supply crates." Steve's gaze landed on me. "Melanie, how does a broke person turn things around in a death trap like this?" The key to surviving as a broke person had never been brute force. It was about finding loopholes, exploiting trickery, navigating chaos, and seizing opportunities. "First Emergency Supply Crate spawned: Terminal T3, Level B2, Employee Break Room!" Sure enough, footsteps echoed in the distance as Omari's team marched toward T3 in full force.