The Last Survivor 소설 & 이야기

Even the Devourer seemed unwilling to speak. The Last Witness answered softly. “They ended.” The simplicity of the answer made it worse. Not destroyed. Not conquered. Like it was inevitable. Like it was natural. The Voidborn moved uneasily. “You survived.” The Last Witness nodded. “I remained.” The cosmic entity lowered its gaze. “The final survivor.” The Last Witness did not deny it. A deep silence followed. Then Kael asked the question everyone feared. “What ended them?” The balance tightened. The fracture darkened. Even the ruins beyond seemed to grow still.

On the third to last day before my planned death, I would face the world’s cruelty one more time. I replied with care. “Yes, Mr. Cardea.” I let out a quiet laugh at myself. People prepared for a rainy day to survive. I prepared for one to die.

Talia gripped her phone and kept glancing back toward the abandoned building as they walked, her eyes full of panic and guilt, but she followed Mom and Dad home without a word. I drifted back to the rooftop of the abandoned building and looked down at the officers and forensic workers gathered around my body. They crouched beside it with grim expressions, speaking to each other in low voices. I floated close enough to hear what they were saying. "Preliminary cause of death is suicide, but the injuries on the body..." I whispered an apology to them, even though they could not hear me. "I'm sorry for making you come out this late to deal with this. I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just couldn

We went to my parents' for dinner that night. Only then did I realize it was our birthday. Dante had ordered the cake. "Two birthdays, one cake. Efficient." It was beautiful. Layers of cream and fruit. Mango. Grace's favorite. I was allergic to mangoes. Nobody noticed. Dante lit the candles and put the crown on Grace's head. "Grace. Make a wish." I stared at the cake. The crown. His patient smile. "Dante." He glanced at me. "Every gift you ever gave us came in two. Except the cake. Why am I always last?"

"There is a camp in the deep caverns. The Warren. They need protectors. They need a shield." One by one, the forty-two survivors turned away from the stairs leading to General Nyosi. They chose the harder path. They chose mercy. Baraka led them out of the holding block, leaving the forty-two dead silver collars resting on the cold concrete floor—a monument to the night the military-industrial complex lost its teeth. They navigated the dark utility tunnels, slipping past the destroyed perimeter of the Forward Operating Base, and emerged into the cool, biting air of the pre-dawn morning.

Dante held me as if I might vanish, but I no longer had the strength to push him away. Professor Shaw came to my side. “Aria, can you hear me?” I looked at her through the blur. “My baby…” Her expression changed, but her voice stayed steady. “We’re taking you to the institute medical center now.” As they lifted me onto the stretcher, Dante tried to follow. Professor Shaw stopped him with one look. “You had your chance to protect her.” The last thing I saw before darkness took me was Dante standing in the hall, covered in my blood, while the wedding ring box lay open at his feet.

"You are talking nonsense." Dmitri immediately tilted his head as he look at Elara with such a cold expression. "Talking nonsense? Should I gauge your eyeballs and cut your tongue for speaking nonsense, Elara?" Elara immediately chuckled in amusement. "I'd like to see you try, Me. Clean-up boy." "You..." The leader of Unit 3, a wiry man named Garret, cleared his throat. "Enough! With all due respect, I think I agree with Dmitri sir, Zaden is the sole survivor. That raises... questions."

He added, the same fear edging his voice. " Has there never been anyone who survived it?" I asked.. " In over a million people, traitors, rebels, only one has ever survived.." " But he was left nearly crippled..." " Thst person is your father, Rhys. ."

Reality cracked harder around us. Time was running out. The survivor's expression became serious. "The creator will try to erase this timeline." Fear hit instantly. "What do we do?" The survivor smiled one last time. Then pointed beyond the white space. Toward the waking giant. Toward reality itself. Toward the impossible battle about to begin. And softly said— "First..." The giant's eye fully opened. The white space shattered. The survivor's final words echoed around me. "Remember who your mother really was."

People kept dying—each death more bizarre than the last. When only ten people remained, they gathered in a small cabin, doing everything they could to avoid further deaths. That strategy worked, at least partially. In the past month, only two people had died. Before that, more than two could die in a single day. Aside from Laurence, the remaining seven survivors were: Devin McDermott—the oldest among them, 45 years old, origin unknown; Allen Lamington; Matthew Wyatt; Brad Gasner; and Dora Hanson—one of the only two women, around 30 years old, Brad's wife.