TK_Selwyn

I can't explain why or how this cycle repeats for me. Yet, what I do understand is each time I die, I return to the starting point, a zombie apocalypse, and continue my journey anew.

In my first apocalypse, I overlooked the creeping signs of doom until overrun by zombies in my flat, where I perished in sheer terror.

The second attempt to alert others of the impending chaos fell on deaf ears; labelled a lunatic, I fled the city, only to succumb to starvation and exposure alone in the wild.

By the third go, I sought safety in wealth, collecting vast supplies, yet fell victim to a brutal gang.

Now, understanding the key—precise foresight, survival skills, strict secrecy, and solitude—I see the purpose in reliving this collapse. This time, failure is not an option. This time, I will survive and outlive the apocalypse.

My Last Apocalypse

Not long after, the scene we had been anticipating begins to unfold.

The presence of government officials, accompanied by military personnel, starts to permeate the town. Their mission is clear: to inform the residents of the government's directive to relocate to Busan, where shelters purportedly await them. The soldiers, armed and vigilant, underscore the seriousness of the order, yet their demeanour suggests a commitment to peace; their weapons are a precaution, not a threat.

As this exodus begins, a surprising number of people emerge from their hiding places and homes. It's a significantly larger crowd than the one drawn out by the traders' last visit. There's a palpable sense of hope among them, a collective belief that this move to Busan might represent the first step back towards a semblance of the normalcy that was lost. The promise of government-built shelters offers a beacon of hope, a tangible goal in a world that has been devoid of such for too long.

From a remote village