Novel & Cerita Surviving The End Of The World

Beside them are rice sacks, sugar sacks and enough potatoes to survive an apocalypse. “Wow.” Who does grocery shopping here? And do they carry bags or bulldozers? Workers move everywhere around us, hauling supplies toward waiting carts. The floor vibrates faintly beneath their boots while crates scrape across concrete and voices bounce around the warehouse. Then one man walks past carrying three flour sacks at once. Another follows carrying four. Fuck. Each sack looks heavy enough to contain a small village. What are they feeding these people? “Wolves,” Evan says from beside me, answering my unasked question.

The Disaster of the Otherworld could wait. The End

“After the gods fall and the earth is submerged in water, life begins again. Two humans survive Ragnarök: Lifthrasir and Lif.” “How do they survive the end of the world,” I ask, silently tacking on and who would want to? “They hide. They run away to the woods and hide until everything is over,” Tara says with a shrug. “And when they come out, they repopulate the world.” “That would be dominion over death, wouldn’t it?” Nathan suggests. “Rebuilding anew on top of that destruction?” “Are the thralls acting out Ragnarök, then?” Hannah wonders aloud, tapping her lips with the capped end of her marker.

“After the gods fall and the earth is submerged in water, life begins again. Two humans survive Ragnarök: Lifthrasir and Lif.” “How do they survive the end of the world,” I ask, silently tacking on and who would want to? “They hide. They run away to the woods and hide until everything is over,” Tara says with a shrug. “And when they come out, they repopulate the world.” “That would be dominion over death, wouldn’t it?” Owen suggests. “Rebuilding anew on top of that destruction?” “Are the thralls acting out Ragnarök, then?” Hannah wonders aloud, tapping her lips with the capped end of her marker.

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.

The Horror stood above shattered kingdoms. Mountains collapsed beneath its shadow. The world was ending. Thomas recognized the battlefield immediately. It was their world. His world. And standing before the Horror— was himself. Alone. Every other Crown Holder was gone. Ava. Rowan. Cassian. Valen. Dead. The realization hit him like a blade. The future Thomas fought desperately. But he was losing. Slowly. Inevitably. Then darkness swallowed the vision. A second future appeared. This time the world survived.

“The fall. The dead. The running. The starving. You and me. I remember another version of it.” He said nothing, but he blinked like he privately thinks she’s lost her mind. Good. That was probably the correct response to hearing your ex-girlfriend claim she had already lived through the end of the world once. Anything else would have felt underprepared. “In that version,” Maya said, “we stayed together after the outbreak. I kept us alive. I found shelter. I rationed food. I counted everything. You started leaving.” Dex’s face had gone blank in the way people go blank when their mind is trying to refuse delivery.

It was the look of a man who was utterly bored with the mundane struggles of the city and had just been promised a playground of pure, unadulterated chaos. ​"The end of the world..." Lucien repeated, the words rolling off his tongue like a delicious threat. He leaned so far across the table that I could smell the lingering smoke of his cigar. "There's going to be a lot of people dying, right? Tell me, sweetheart, what are we getting? Earthquakes? Tsunamis? Tornadoes?" ​I stared at him, my hand freezing in mid-air. I couldn't comprehend their reaction. Five years of surviving that living hell had left me scarred, hardened, and desperate to avoid repeating the nightmare.

I had endured because Dante held my hand and told me there would be a life after all of it. Now that life had finally come, he wanted me to hide it. “If you truly love me,” I said, “why is my child the one who has to disappear?” Dante’s expression darkened. “Don’t make it sound like that.” “But that is what you’re doing.” A few guards and staff members had started looking toward the office. Dante noticed and lowered his voice. “We’ll talk at home.” He guided me out through the private elevator. Serena followed us without being asked.