Sci-fi Post Apocalyptic Novels & Stories

"Food's gonna get cold." The apartment stayed warm from the heat, and everyone ate happily around the table. After dinner, Jeremy volunteered to do the dishes. Hughie and Beatrice laid out some sodas, beers, and snacks. Nicole thought things still felt a little too quiet, so she had the dog carry over the tablet. Before the apocalypse, she had downloaded a ton of movies, TV dramas, and variety shows from different streaming sites to pass the time. Too bad life stayed nonstop after the disaster. Between scavenging for supplies, studying, and farming, she barely had time to watch anything.

of themselves from 3 seconds ago. The HumResidual Trinity-frequency in the soil.A global insomnia affecting 40% of the population. Material DriftObjects "forgetting" their density.Building foundations becoming porous or liquid. The Scarcity War With the high-tech "Miracles" of the Architects gone, the world reverted to a brutal reality: Resources. The "Slow-Glass" humans and the "Accelerant" Mimics, no longer unified by the threat of erasure, began to bicker over the remaining "Amber Hives." The hives were the only source of clean water and electricity, but they were failing without the Trinity-link.

Sitting on the lap of a god who no longer knew how to love me, I realized that the cage hadn’t disappeared when the Spire fell—it had simply expanded to enclose the entire human race. We sat together on the obsidian throne, suspended above a kingdom of bleeding light. Below us, the Central Sector was a masterclass in silent terror. The red pulse broadcasting from Dante’s mutated core was traveling through the grid, locking the remaining survivors into a state of vegetative obedience. They weren't screaming anymore; they were standing perfectly still in the rain, their silver neck brands burning hot against their skin, waiting for the next command from the top floor.

Futurama depicted an American landscape where automobiles would become the dominant form of transportation, flowing efficiently and delivering their precious passengers along divided superhighways allowing for high-speed travel with a double-decker design that allowed pedestrians to dominate through beautifully developed towns and cities. With moving light, inspiring audio and color effects, Futurama prophesied an American utopia enhanced with an assortment of cutting-edge technologies, the stuff of wildest imagination. Remote-controlled semi-automated vehicles, industrial power plants supplying everyone with power, farms growing artificially produced crops and aeration plants to purify and

Meph follows the sound by instinct, only to notice his new tattoo — the black little snake around his wrist — is glowing red, projecting a hologram of a game panel right above its little snake head, one that moves along with his movements. The panel looks like an old fashioned computer screen. Lines of green words over a pitch black background. Ugly as hell. There is really no need for the angels to localize the trial to the first glimpse they took on the human civilization. Such a weird combination of magic and ancient computer tech is like seeing a tissue section of the failed civilization that ran itself into extinction. Lines of words fly up on the screen, pushing the previous line up as

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.

A Chosen Celestial Being was being to invite Lucas into the city, only to realize that Lucas and the Apocalyptic Legion were no longer seen. … Lucas placed the Apocalyptic Legion into the System Space, and once again, he started his search. This time, he arrived at a flat ground. That flat ground was endless and was extraordinarily spacious. Lucas figured that given any ordinary people would not be able to reach its end even after a few lifetimes. "Go gather more zombies," Lucas said faintly. The Apocalyptic Legion headed in all directions. Lucas purchased a box of cigarettes from Points Mall and lighted one cigarette.

There are roads with empty cars down below the hill that we are hiding behind, but there are no humans, only old brochures getting carried with the wind. I find it scary thinking that nothing new will be created, the magazines you can sometimes find in abandoned places are the last of their kind. A wind blew past one day, bringing the infection, and then the government dropped a bomb and ended the human era. Hybrids and mutated animals are the new rulers of this world, yet I'm struggling to survive and refusing to die. And after I've found Ryan, we are joining the others to search for a place where we can live. Maybe there are mutated animals suited for farm life.

It’s the aftermath of an apocalypse of life on earth as we know it. The planet has suffered a devastating alteration to its surface composition. Although the earth has been resilient in the face of catastrophe over the millenniums and has already begun to rejuvenate in some way or another, there is speculation that it might never completely recover from the nuclear war that raged as a last resort for the powers that be to hang onto the control of the planet and not lose it to the few humans who were assisting with the invasion of a dominant alien race. There are only a select few areas that aren’t affected. These areas were quickly seized by the invading aliens and the humans who’d worked

I whispered, my head resting on his broad, scarred chest. "We are here, Elara," he replied, his hand stroking my hair. "That is the only triage that matters." I looked at my hands, the gold-ringed eyes of the healer reflecting the simple, white light of the moon. The sci-fi era was a closed loop, a history of a reach that had gone too far. The future was not in the Polaris Cluster or the Andromeda Reach; it was in the silver lilies of the Fringe and the blood of the pack.