Post Apocalypse Novels Novelas e Histórias

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.

The apocalypse did not start with zombies right away. That would have been too simple. First came the drought. The heat was brutal, day after day, pressing down on cities until roads cracked, crops burned, and people started fighting over bottled water in stores that had nothing left on the shelves. The electricity could not keep up. Power grids failed in waves, hospitals went dark, cooling systems died, and people who had spent their entire lives trusting walls and machines suddenly understood how thin civilization really was.

There’s nothing left but survival. I stared at the words, my mind spinning. The Burning. That’s what people called it now, the apocalyptic event that had scorched the earth and turned the world into a wasteland. But this person—this scientist—had known it was coming. They’d predicted it. And somehow, they’d ended up here, in this bunker, leaving behind their journal like a final warning. I looked up from the journal, my pulse quickening. This wasn’t just a storm shelter. This bunker had belonged to someone who had known about the end of the world before it happened. Someone who had tried—unsuccessfully—to stop it.

Old systems collapsed, and while some groups tried to patch things back together, the currents of this new era were way too big for them to steer. New bases or camps rose everywhere. A camp-based civilization was becoming the norm. Anyone trying to bring back the old pre-apocalypse order was just stuck in the past. So nobody should expect the apocalypse to end. That would be a pipe dream. Things would only go back to normal when the virus was totally gone, if that was even possible. The future would be built around bases, and glory would only revolve around camps. Hayley knew they were just small fries back at Base K1, the kind the base wouldn't bother sending rescue teams for. They weren't

Leading the way into the living room, she added, "And there's a couple of new radio shows that debuted last month. Nothing that stands out though. I think you're right. I miss Alias Jimmy Valentine too." "Oh! Not there, please, Lily! Those have to go back to the library." With an annoyed flick of a brow, Lily lifted her coffee mug to give Evelyn time to move the books aside. "The Roman Revolution. Diplomacy," she commented drily, tilting her head to one side, reading the titles along the book spines. "The Empire of the Steppes. The Wimsey Papers. Why can't you just read Agatha Christie like everyone else?"

She was trying to reach her, but her bas**** ex was holding her, keeping her from using water ability to save her. When the meteorites scattered across the globe, some people developed abilities almost the same time the undead appeared. The sky was bright red, explosions, screams in every direction. Chills crawl on her back, recalling what would happen a year from now. Her revenge for every suffering will be done slowly because preparing for the approaching apocalypse matters more. In the future, food and water will be scarce. Guns will be more valuable than gold and jades. There will be safe military and clan bases emerging but still needed some points from working and trading for food.

This story is entirely fictional. All places, names, characters, and settings of the novel are entirely fictional. They are in no way tied to real world events, or ongoing situations, besieged by the current society, although similarities can occur from time to time, during reading. By reading this novel, you do not hold the author responsible.

I didn’t expect the patch to come so soon. In the second month after the battle, the rooftop radio suddenly crackled to life with a crisp broadcast voice. "The Atlas Geothermal Initiative is now active. Surface temperatures will gradually recover. Rescue is on the way." Rhys and I just stared at each other. So this wasn’t a solo survival game after all. It was online, and the admins had finally logged in. A week later, a military helicopter landed in the open lot. Registration and verification went quickly. The officer in charge clapped me on the shoulder. "Turning the apocalypse into a warehouse operation! You’re one of a kind."

In a world shattered by a supernatural apocalypse, everyone gains combat skills except Dimas, who wakes up with a 'Cooking System'. While others hunt for survival, Dimas hunts for ingredients. When a cold, battle-hardened ex-soldier named Rafael discovers that Dimas’s dishes can restore stamina and grant temporary buffs, their lives become inextricably linked in a dangerous culinary business venture.

"Six days. The first quake. Then the power. Then the collapse. You remember it differently than most—you lived it once already." The air left my lungs. "How do you—" "Because I'm like you." He leaned forward. "Not exactly. I didn't come back the same way you did. But I know what you are. And I know what's hunting you." I stared at him. "What are you talking about?" "You're a Hell Maiden, Emma." The words hung between us. I laughed. It came out sharp and disbelieving. "A what?" "Hell Maiden. The apocalypse doesn't just end the world. It opens doors. And women like you—who've been through fire and come out harder—you're the ones who walk through those doors changed."