
Chapter one
The first class cabin smelled like lavender and fresh coffee. Soft leather seats, warm ambient lighting, and the low hum of the aircraft engines filled the space like a lullaby.
Nicholas Marchetti opened his eyes.
For a full ten seconds, he did not move. He did not breathe. He just stared at the smooth white ceiling above him, waiting for the screams to start again. Waiting for the stench of rotting flesh. Waiting for the bone deep cold that had followed him through every waking moment of the apocalypse.
Nothing came.
No ice, no zombies. No blood freezing in his veins.
"Mr. Marchetti, would you like some water?" A soft voice floated toward him. A beautiful flight attendant leaned down with a warm smile, her name tag reading Sophia Russo.
Nick grabbed her wrist without thinking. His grip was tight, desperate.
"What's the date?" His voice came out rough, cracked.
Sophia blinked but kept her composure. "It's June 21st, 2032, sir. Are you alright? You look a little pale."
Nick released her hand like it burned him. He sank back into his seat and pressed both palms against his face.
June 21st, 2032.
Ten days. There were exactly ten days before the apocalypse would rip the world apart. He remembered the date like it was branded into his skull. July 1st. That was the day the earthquakes shattered every major highway on the continent. That was the day the super cold wave plunged temperatures to fifty below and killed the power grid in six hours flat. That was the day the first zombies crawled out of the wreckage, hungry and mindless and endless.
And that was the day Nicholas Marchetti, age thirty five, had died like a dog in a frozen ditch with nothing to his name but frostbitten fingers and a bellyful of regret.
But here he was. Alive. Clean. Warm. Sitting in first class like he was heading to a business meeting instead of the end of the world.
"Sir?" Sophia's voice pulled him back again. "Can I get you anything?"
"No. Thank you. I'm fine." Nick forced a thin smile and watched her walk away.
The moment she disappeared behind the curtain, he pulled out his phone. His fingers were still trembling. The lock screen confirmed it. June 21st, 2032. Ten days before everything ended.
He was reborn.
Nick closed his eyes and let the reality wash over him. In the apocalypse, money had become worthless within hours. Paper bills were used as kindling. Bank accounts were just numbers on dead servers. The only currency that mattered was Time Energy, a glowing countdown that appeared on every human's forehead the moment the disasters began. Time Energy extended your natural lifespan. It strengthened your muscles, sharpened your senses, and could be transferred through skin contact or harvested from the bodies of dead zombies. The more you had, the longer you lived and the harder you hit.
In his previous life, Nick had been pathetic. A Level Four physique with barely a thousand years of stored energy. He survived by hiding in basements and eating whatever scraps he could find, like a rat gnawing on crumbs while wolves feasted. He watched stronger survivors build armies and claim territories while he shivered alone in the dark.
But there was one thing that set him apart.
Nick turned his focus inward, reaching for that familiar space inside his mind. A grin spread slowly across his face, wide and genuine and almost dangerous.
His Space Ability. It was still there. A massive storage dimension, frozen in time, equivalent to ten full sized soccer fields. Anything placed inside would never decay, never spoil, never age by even a single second. This impossibly rare ability had been his only real advantage in the apocalypse, and it had followed him back through death itself.
"Ten days," Nick murmured, his eyes now sharp and calculating. "I have ten days and two point five billion reasons to make this count."
The plan formed in his mind like a blueprint being drawn in real time. First, he needed to secure his inheritance before his wonderful family stole it out from under him. In his past life, his stepmother Elena, his half brother Vincent, and his father's sworn brother Frank Costello had conspired together to rob him blind. They forged documents, bribed lawyers, and left him stranded in Bellport City with nothing but the clothes on his back right before civilization collapsed.
This time, he would flip the table on every single one of them.
Second, he needed supplies. Mountains of them. Enough food, fuel, medicine, and equipment to sustain a small army for years, all crammed into his spatial domain before July 1st.
Third, he needed allies. Real ones. People who were loyal, capable, and wouldn't sell him out for a can of beans when the world went dark. In his previous life, he had been too weak and too alone to build anything. He wandered the frozen wasteland like a ghost, barely surviving while others thrived. That version of himself was dead now. Literally.
The new Nick Marchetti was going to be different.
The plane shuddered slightly as the landing gear deployed. Through the window, the skyline of Bellport City rose against the afternoon sun, glass towers and busy highways and millions of people who had no idea they were ten days away from the end of everything.
Nick tightened his jaw and stared at the city below.
"This time, I'm not the rat," he whispered to himself. "This time, I'm the one who owns the maze."
A cold, quiet smirk settled on his face. It was the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. The kind that promised trouble for anyone who got in his way.
He had ten days, a spatial dimension the size of a small town, and a memory full of apocalyptic secrets that no one else on earth possessed.
The countdown had already begun.
When the plane touched down and the cabin doors opened, Sophia Russo gave him one last polite smile from the front of the aircraft.
"Welcome to Bellport City, Mr. Marchetti. I hope you enjoy your stay."
Nick picked up his bag and stepped into the jet bridge.
"Oh, I plan to," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. "I plan to enjoy every single second of it."
Because in ten days, seconds would be all anyone had left.
Latest Chapter
Thirty million
Chapter 9Vincent Marchetti stood up from his seat six rows back, his champagne flute raised like a trophy, his voice loud enough to fill the entire auction tent."Thirty million! Right here!"His two friends on either side clapped and whistled like he had just scored a touchdown. Vincent soaked it in, adjusting the collar of his designer shirt with one hand while flashing a grin at the crowd around him.Then his eyes found Nick.The grin froze. Then it twisted into something ugly."Well, well, well." Vincent's voice carried across the rows. "Look who crawled in from the gutter. I didn't know they let stray dogs into the Riviera Rendezvous. Somebody must have left the gate open."A few scattered laughs rippled through the nearby seats. Anthony shifted uncomfortably beside Nick, but Nick didn't move. His eyes stayed fixed on the Conqueror sitting on stage, all twenty five tons of matte black armor plating and eight wheel brutality.The auctioneer cleared his throat. "We have thirty mil
Curiosity
Chapter 8Maria Esposito leaned against the counter with her arms folded, studying Nick with those sharp dark eyes like she was reading a recipe and deciding whether to trust it."So let me get this straight," she said. "You walked in here for the first time tonight, ate one meal, and now you want to know my entire cooking philosophy?"Nick shrugged. "When someone is that good at something, I get curious. That crab pot wasn't just food. It was art."Maria tilted her head slightly, and a small, pleased smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She reached under the counter and pulled out a sleek black card with gold lettering."Here." She slid it across the counter toward him. "Twenty percent off. Every visit. No expiration."Nick picked it up. "You give these to everyone who compliments your cooking?""I give them to people who actually notice the difference between good food and great food." Maria's eyes held his for a moment. "Most people just eat. You actually tasted it. That's rare
The slap
Chapter 7Gina Caputo stood in the middle of Bella Mare with her chest heaving and her finger pointed at Nick like a weapon, fully expecting her boyfriend to march over and destroy this nobody who had dared to embarrass her."Baby!" She spun toward the young man rushing from the bar. "This disgusting cockroach and his little girlfriend just humiliated me in front of everyone! They stole our crab pot and he talked to me like I was trash! I want you to"She stopped.Anthony DeLuca's face was not angry. It was terrified. His skin had gone from tanned to the color of wet paper in about three seconds, and his eyes were locked on Nick with a look of pure, undiluted horror."Tony?" Gina's voice dropped. "What's wrong with you? Why are you looking at him like that?"Anthony grabbed her arm so hard she yelped. He yanked her close and whispered through clenched teeth, his voice shaking. "Do you have any idea who that man is?""Who cares who he is? He's nobody! Look at him, he's dressed like a"
The crab pot
Chapter 6Nick spent the entire next morning at the estate's dining table with his laptop open and his credit card practically on fire. Another hundred million dollars vanished into online orders. Canned goods by the pallet. Self heating meals by the thousand. Water purification tablets. Industrial first aid kits. Camping tents rated for arctic conditions. Military grade walkie talkies with a fifty mile range. Portable diesel generators. Cases of whiskey and vodka that would be worth more than gold bars when the liquor stores stopped existing. Cartons of cigarette alternatives that desperate survivors would trade their last can of food for.By two in the afternoon, he finally closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.His phone buzzed. A message from Isabella."Supply list is DONE. Took me all night but I think I covered literally everything. From toilet paper to tactical body armor. Want me to send it over?"Nick typed back with a tired grin. "Send it. And let
The shopping Spree
Chapter 5The next morning came fast. Nick was already dressed and downstairs by six, a cup of coffee in his hand and his phone buzzing with delivery confirmations from the overnight orders he had placed before bed.Michael Romano arrived at seven with his foreman and a crew manifest."Before we start," Nick set his coffee down and looked Michael dead in the eyes. "I need to change the deal."Michael's face tightened. "Change how?""Thirty million covers the materials and the work. But it doesn't guarantee the timeline. Eight days, Michael. I don't need you to aim for it. I don't need you to try your best. I need you to guarantee it. Not a single window unsealed. Not a single wire unconnected. Everything done, tested, and operational in eight days flat."Michael crossed his arms. "Nick, to guarantee that kind of timeline, I'd need to pull every available crew from three other projects. Double shifts. Triple overtime. My accountant would have a heart attack just looking at the payroll.
The blueprints
Chapter 4Nick set up a makeshift nest in the kitchen using a shoebox lined with cotton towels. He filled a bottle cap with water and placed it beside the box, then went out to the garden with a flashlight.It took twenty minutes of digging through soft soil near the hedges before he had a handful of grubs, beetles, and small worms. He carried them back inside and sat down at the kitchen counter."Alright, little guy," he murmured, holding up a small grub between his fingers. "Open up."The chick tilted its head weakly, then opened its beak. Nick placed the grub inside, and the bird swallowed it whole with a tiny, satisfied chirp. He fed it three more grubs and a small beetle, each one placed gently on the bird's tongue with the patience of a man who had nowhere else to be.After the fifth bite, the chick stopped opening its mouth. It blinked twice, tucked its head under its stubby wing, and fell asleep.Nick watched it for a long moment, a soft expression crossing his face that would
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