The Chronicles Of Apocalypse Novels & Stories

If she were to be reborn before the apocalypse, she would blow her brains out after killing her entire family. If she met a dashing hero, she would kill him in his sleep and eat his crystal to gain his powers. Which sane person will suffer the apocalypse all the way through ? once in her life is more than enough. She is amazed at the tenacity of these heroes Every time she read these novels. It must be said at this point, Yanlong is a hypocrite. She stole and learnt all lower level blueprints for the after apocalypse technology. Why can she steal? She’s a low level clerk, who is bound to the building she is in.

Or rather, in a mere 23 years… World War 4 pushed the world to the verge of destruction. That’s when on the 23rd year, July 1st. One of the legendary twelve apostles of the God of Creation suddenly appeared, and ‘it’ decided to put an end to everything. ‘It’ destroyed several of the strongest and leading causes countries of World War 4 in just three days by itself, alone. Even with full preparation to meet against his attacks, not a single one of them is able to take down the apostle— even if it’s the powerful celestial gods who are just one rank below them.

“This shouldn’t be happening for months.” A distant siren wailed somewhere across the sleeping city. Caleb’s expression darkened. “Your return fractured the timeline.” The wind howled violently through the harbor. And then— “The apocalypse isn’t coming,” Caleb said quietly. “It’s bleeding into the present.”

Though the thoughts about him were forefront now, because I still hadn't come to terms with what almost happened, I had to stop thinking about it now. Maybe later I would take my time to understand it. Maybe. I opened the book slowly, my fingers tracing the frayed and worn edges of the cover, "the chronicle of the six" it stood boldly in gold lettering glaring at me. The letters shimmered faintly and I quickly turned open the first page. "This is the Chronicle of the Six. The first beings born of the moon's light. This record holds their power, their dominion... and the truth before the Great Divide."

"You were dead." The next trouble waited until everyone was tired before showing its teeth. In the First Gate, symbols had weight. It made the temple smaller, not larger, because every new rule had to fit inside a room full of frightened people. The cold incense smoke pressed against every window while wet footsteps marked the next turn of the case. Nothing about the Final Gate War felt clean. It felt like another emergency arriving before the last one had been wiped off the stones. "A recurring inconvenience." The archive seals spun around him. Each seal held a name: forgotten gods, unpaid dead, broken vows, erased children, districts swallowed by the first apocalypse wave.

“Help me…” Ivy’s fingers curled slightly at her side. But she didn’t stop. She couldn't hence she drove off. The flu wasn’t supposed to appear this early but here it was. And in her past life… There had only been five days between the outbreak of the flu... And the beginning of the apocalypse. Five days. "I hope I still have my twelve days remaining?" Ivy raised an eyebrow. {The timeline in this world is different, Host. That is why you must act faster.}

The darkness around him writhed violently like chains. The first Moon-born stared at the abyss in terror. “It’s waking up completely…” Cassian gripped his moonsteel blade tighter. “How do we kill it?” The woman laughed bitterly. “You don’t.” The golden eye blinked again. And suddenly, memories slammed into Lira’s mind. Civilizations collapsing. Worlds consumed. Entire kingdoms erased from existence. Not by the King. By the Abyss. The hunger had never been the apocalypse. It had been a prison. Lira gasped sharply and stumbled.

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."

A voice that seemed to echo through the bones of the world, deeper than the mountains, darker than night: “Blood Heir… the world will burn. And you… will fall first.” The shockwave hit, throwing me backward. Rocks and debris tumbled around me. My silver light flared violently, my wolf howling. Theodore surged forward, golden aura blazing, holding me steady. I realized with bone-chilling certainty… This was no longer a battle. This was apocalypse. Energy from the ancient force surged directly toward us. The silver light around me flickered violently. My wolf snarled. Theodore’s golden aura blazed, but even together, we could barely stand.

I picked up the journal on the table, turned to a pristine new page, and wrote the first line. [Apocalypse Year One, Day One. Weather: Clear. [I await the fading of crises and chaos, when all things wake to a rebirth.]