Surviving World's End

The omen of the apocalypse

After coming out of the bathroom dressed in his work clothes, Mark grabbed the keys from the table, slung his bag over his shoulder, and prepared to leave for work.

The talking coin, who called himself Zenith, immediately noticed that Mark was planning to ignore him again.

"Hey, don't go out alone. Take me with you. I don't want to be left behind in this broken apartment."

"If you don't stop yapping, how exactly am I supposed to take you outside with me?" Mark replied irritably. "You do realize I've been hiding from certain people for the past three years, right? Imagine the kind of attention I'd attract if people found out I owned a coin that talks nonsense all day."

Hearing that, Zenith paused for a moment before replying in a slightly aggrieved tone.

"You know I can speak directly into your mind through our telepathic connection. But you threatened to throw me into the bottom of the ocean if I did that all the time, so what choice do I have?"

Then, sounding even more wronged, he added,

"You even threw me into a garbage truck last time."

Mark's face twitched.

"Listening to the rubbish you spout in my head all day is enough to drive anyone insane. If I didn't try to get rid of you once in a while, I'd probably end up in a mental hospital as their newest patient."

Just remembering the garbage truck incident made his head ache.

"Well... fine," Zenith muttered. "I promise I'll behave. Just take me with you. Even if your world is low-level, you humans still have some interesting things worth looking forward to."

Mark sighed helplessly.

As troublesome as Zenith was, leaving the talking coin alone was even more dangerous. There was no telling what kind of chaos he might cause if left unattended.

And despite all their constant bickering, Mark had to admit that over the past three years, he had developed a slight attachment to the annoying coin.

After all, ever since escaping that organization three years ago—the same organization that had kidnapped him when he was thirteen and taken him into the mountains—his life had never truly returned to normal.

Zenith, absurd as he was, had unknowingly helped him transition from that darkness back into something resembling an ordinary life.

Listening to Zenith's nonstop nonsense somehow made him feel less alone.

Of course, most people would argue that comparing yourself to a talking coin who claimed to be an ancient being was far from normal.

Ignoring that thought, Mark took out the black cord he usually used, tied Zenith around his neck, grabbed his keys, locked the apartment door, and headed to work.

**********************

Mark rented a small apartment in one of the poorer districts of the city.

Normally, the bus ride to his workplace took around thirty to forty minutes.

Unfortunately, "normal" traffic almost never existed during working hours.

By the time the overcrowded bus crawled through the congested streets, it usually took Mark over an hour to reach his destination.

That was why he was late to work so often.

Well... not often.

Almost every day.

While sitting inside the packed bus, Mark and Zenith communicated mentally.

"Zenith, why have I been having strange dreams lately?"

"You've been having nightmares for as long as I've known you," Zenith replied lazily. "What's different this time?"

"I'm not talking about the usual nightmares." Mark frowned slightly. "These dreams feel... different. I see battlefields, endless fighting, people dying everywhere. Sometimes I die too. But it doesn't feel like a dream. It feels like I'm reliving someone else's memories."

Zenith went silent briefly before answering vaguely,

"Maybe you awakened memories from a past life. You know, like those protagonists in novels who suddenly recover memories of their previous incarnations."

Mark chuckled inside his mind.

"I may be many things, but I know for damn sure I'm not some kind of protagonist."

Still, he had a feeling Zenith knew more than he was letting on.

And if Zenith refused to explain something, then no matter what Mark asked, he would never get a straight answer.

While the conversation continued in his head, the bus finally reached its destination.

Mark stepped off and checked the time.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

For once...

He was on time.

Seeing his reaction, even Zenith sounded relieved.

"Very good," Zenith said dramatically. "Even I, the great Lord Zenith, do not wish to encounter your spit-spewing manager today."

Mark ignored him and entered the office building.

The moment he stepped inside, he was greeted by the sight of a man wearing a cheeky grin.

"Well, well... color me surprised." The man widened his eyes theatrically. "If it isn't the recipient of the 'Latecomer of the Month' award himself—Mr. Mark. Did the sun rise from the west today? How are you actually early?"

This man was Gavin—Mark's only friend in the office.

"Move aside," Mark replied flatly. "I don't have time to waste talking to you today. I still need to finish yesterday's assignment. Escaping the late-coming lecture doesn't mean I'll escape getting yelled at for unfinished work."

Ignoring Gavin's laughter, Mark walked past him.

But after taking only a few steps, he accidentally collided with another coworker.

The man stumbled and fell to the floor.

"Sorry." Mark quickly extended his hand and helped him up.

Only then did he notice something strange.

The coworker looked terrible.

His complexion was pale and sickly, his eyes bloodshot, and sweat covered his forehead as though he was burning with a fever.

Looking concerned, Mark asked,

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the man snapped irritably before quickly walking away.

Mark didn't take the rude tone to heart since the collision had been his fault.

He turned and continued toward his workspace.

But after taking only a few steps, he suddenly froze.

Because the words Zenith spoke next sent a chill down his spine.

"Poor guy," Zenith said casually.

"He's been infected with poison from the Corpse Clan. He won't survive the rest of the day."

Mark's eyes widened slightly.

But Zenith wasn't finished.

"You should start preparing yourself too."

His tone suddenly became serious.

"Because what your world calls an apocalypse in novels…"

"…is about to begin."

"This world is going to descend into chaos very soon."

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