If I had to pinpoint the exact moment my life went from "meh" to "we're all gonna die," it would be the day I realized my neighbor Adrian had better survival instincts than me. And that's saying something, considering Adrian once tried to microwave a metal spoon.But let's rewind a bit.I was leaning against the rusted railing of my apartment balcony, staring out at the decaying skyline of New Arcadia. Once a beacon of progress, now a city slowly unraveling at the seams. The streets below still pulsed with life, but there was an unease in the air, something thick and unseen that lingered like a storm waiting to break.The Eclipse Strain had started as a whisper. A promising new step in human evolution, a biological marvel created by Viratech Industries, meant to push the boundaries of human potential. The media called it the next stage in medicine, a breakthrough that could extend lifespans, eliminate disease, and reshape humanity itself.But things never go as planned.A month ago, r

Here’s a fun fact: if your eyes ever glow in the dark and your best friend stares at you like you just turned into a demon from a low-budget horror movie, something has gone very, very wrong with your day.I’d just caved in the skull of a mutant zombie with my bare hands. It wasn’t exactly on my to-do list when I got up this morning. “Survive apocalyptic monster attack” maybe. “Discover I have superhuman reflexes”? Sure. But “Go full Mortal Kombat fatality on a creature that looked like it crawled out of someone’s nightmare journal”? Yeah, no.And now Adrian was staring at me like I’d grown a second head. Which, given how weird things had gotten, wouldn’t have even surprised me.“Elias…” he said slowly, like he was trying not to startle a wild animal. “What just happened?”I opened my mouth to answer then the pain hit.A tidal wave of fire surged through my skull. Not metaphorical fire. Real, burn-your-insides, someone-stuffed-a-blender-in-your-brain kind of pain. My legs gave out, an

(Where collapsing tunnels, super-evolution, and blind murder-beasts all get crammed into one terrible afternoon)Let me tell you something about collapsing tunnels: they don’t give you polite warnings. One moment, you’re standing on solid ground trying to process the fact that a ten-foot-tall mutant monster just tried to murder you, and the next? BOOM. Concrete rainstorm.“GO! MOVE!” I yelled, dragging Adrian forward by the collar like a malfunctioning robot vacuum that couldn’t find its charging dock.The ground beneath us cracked like a candy bar in a microwave. Steel beams screamed like tortured banshees, and behind us, the tunnel gave a mighty groan, then decided life wasn’t worth it anymore. The ceiling collapsed in an avalanche of concrete and rusted pipes.Through the chaos, I caught one last glimpse of those glowing red eyes,Apex Hollowed watching us as the rubble swallowed it whole.Not dead.Not gone.Just... buried. Waiting.That’s a comfort.A slab of concrete the size of

You ever wake up knowing the universe has officially added you to its “let’s ruin this one specifically” list?Yeah. That was me.I hadn’t even fallen asleep. I’d been staring at the ceiling of a ruined office, listening to Adrian snore like a dying walrus, and watching the System flash ominous updates in the corner of my vision like it was a sadistic Windows 95. [Genetic Sync: 89.6%][Warning: Integration Threshold Approaching]Every new percentage point felt like a countdown to my own personal apocalypse. I was a science experiment with a ticking clock, and I didn’t even get a cool lab coat.Adrian woke up with a groan and a very unflattering stretch. “Tell me I dreamt the golden-eyed demon monster.”I shook my head. “Nope. That actually happened.”He looked at me like I’d kicked his puppy. “So it’s smart now? Like, uses-contractions smart?”“It said I’m not ready.”He blinked. “Well… you aren’t.”“Wow. Thanks for the motivational speech, Oprah.”We packed up what little gear we ha

If you’ve ever wondered what the end of the world smells like, let me save you the trouble: it’s a blend of burnt tires, expired beef jerky, and the wet dog breath of something that probably wants to eat you. I’d barely stepped out of the bunker before I regretted it. The place we were heading into Sector 17 which used to be a city. A thriving, neon-lit, tower-stuffed marvel of human innovation. Now? It was what you’d get if a junkyard and a cemetery had a baby, and then left it to raise itself during the apocalypse. Burned cars sat like melted beetles along cracked highways. Buildings leaned at awkward angles like they were drunk. The sky was a smear of grayish soup, with clouds that looked like they were one bad mood away from a thunder tantrum. And still, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part? It was quiet. Too quiet. No birds, no Hollowed screeches. No wind even. Just us and the creeping sensation that something was watching from the ruins. I tightened the straps