The Calm Before the Collapse

The world felt wrong.

It wasn't just the growing number of animal mutations or the whispers of strange incidents across the city. It was in the air itself—heavy, charged, electric.

Like standing at the base of a dam just before it bursts.

Two days.

In forty-eight hours, the awakening event would hit.

Billions of people worldwide would gain powers.

Superhuman strength. Enhanced senses. Reality manipulation.

And many—too many—would mutate into abominations.

The city would collapse overnight.

I sat at my workbench, disassembling the plasma rifle prototype. The coils had overheated during the last fight and nearly melted through the casing.

Unstable power systems will get me killed.

I scribbled a new schematic in my notebook.Plasma Rifle Mk II – Stabilized Design

Adjustments:

Replace standard copper coils with silver-plated tungsten coils.Integrate a heat-sink system using a liquid coolant reservoir.Reduce plasma discharge power by 15% to increase shot consistency.

Expected Performance:✔ 5 shots before overheating instead of 2.✔ Faster cooldown cycle.✔ Improved targeting interface with infrared optics.

I put the pencil down and stretched my shoulders.

The past week had been a blur of combat, engineering, and planning. My body ached, but [Hypermind] kept pushing me forward.

The world wasn't waiting.

Neither could I.

After finishing the coil upgrades, I powered up the thermal scanner array.

The tunnels beneath my hideout had become more active lately. Mutants, looters, and—worse—Project Horizon operatives had been moving closer.

I adjusted the scanner.

There. Movement.

Three distinct heat signatures, moving through the south tunnel, about thirty meters out.

Could be scavengers.

Or it could be more Horizon hunters.

I grabbed my gear:

✔ Plasma Rifle Mk II – Prototype Ready✔ Shock Gauntlets – Fully Charged✔ Arc Stun Baton✔ Glock 19 – 15 rounds, 3 spare mags

I activated the turret system near the tunnel entrance and moved toward the contact point.

The tunnel was dim, lit only by my flashlight and the faint green glow of the scanner.

The three figures were just around the next corner.

I took cover behind a concrete pillar, adjusting my night vision goggles.

My heart skipped.

The figures weren't human-shaped.

They were tall, lean, with elongated limbs. Their skin was pale and glistened under the light.

Mutants.

Stalkers, specifically.

They were scouting the tunnels, likely drawn by the electrical signals from my devices.

I counted:✔ One adult—likely the pack leader.✔ Two smaller variants—juveniles, less coordinated but still dangerous.

I adjusted my grip on the plasma rifle, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

The adult Stalker heard me instantly.

Its head snapped toward my direction, eyes glowing faintly yellow. It let out a low clicking noise—a sound that sent goosebumps down my spine.

The juveniles lunged first.

I fired.

THOOM!

The plasma bolt hit the first juvenile in the chest, turning its torso into molten slag. The second one leapt, claws extended.

I pivoted, swinging my Arc Baton.

CRACK!

The electric discharge connected mid-air, sending the creature slamming into the concrete wall with a wet crunch.

Its body twitched, then went still.

The adult had disappeared.

Shit.

Stalkers weren't brute-force monsters.

They were patient hunters, using darkness, silence, and surprise to kill.

The faint clicking sound echoed again.

Left side.

I turned and fired the plasma rifle toward the noise.

The bolt hit empty air.

It's flanking.

I activated my ultrasonic defense emitters.

Whirrrrrrrr.

A high-frequency screech filled the air.

The Stalker shrieked in pain, dropping from the ceiling behind me.

Its clawed hand slashed across my back.

The vest absorbed most of the impact, but the force threw me forward.

I hit the ground hard, the plasma rifle skidding away.

I rolled onto my back, drawing my Glock.

The Stalker was already airborne, its jaws wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.

I fired.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The first two shots missed.

The third hit it mid-air, blasting a hole through its elongated skull.

It crashed to the ground beside me, twitching for a few seconds before going still.

I lay there, chest heaving.

That had been too close.

Back at the lab, I strapped the Stalker corpse onto the metal examination table and sliced it open.

Notable observations:

The brain tissue was significantly larger than expected.The bone density had doubled, making its limbs harder to sever.The nervous system was connected to black, root-like veins that pulsed faintly even after death.

The mutation was adapting faster than in the novel.

The apocalypse's timeline had shifted.

That wasn't natural.

Something—or someone—was accelerating it.

I turned on the shortwave radio scanner and tuned into the emergency broadcast frequencies.

The world was already unraveling.

Reports streamed in from across the globe:

New York: Mass bird swarm attacks—hundreds dead.Tokyo: Feral dog packs breached government shelters.Berlin: Power grids overloaded by spontaneous electromagnetic surges.

This wasn't random.

The mutation wave was going global.

I geared up and drove into the city center to observe the situation firsthand.

New Vale City was starting to crack.

I saw:

Stores boarding up windows.Panic buying at grocery stores.More police patrols—but their eyes betrayed their fear.

A crowd had gathered near the main hospital.

I parked the SUV and approached.

Two ambulances were unloading restrained patients, their bodies twisting unnaturally beneath the straps.

One man's head jerked back and forth like a puppet, mouth stretched in a silent scream.

His eyes glowed faintly green.

A doctor stepped back just as the patient's spine arched, snapping the restraints.

The mutant lunged.

Two police officers fired their weapons point-blank.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The creature absorbed the bullets, stumbled, and then ripped one officer's throat out with bare hands.

The second officer tried to reload. Too slow.

The mutant tackled him, smashing his skull into the pavement repeatedly until bone fragments sprayed outward.

The watching crowd screamed and ran.

The creature rose, eyes locked on me.

I drew my plasma rifle and aimed.

The creature charged.

THOOM!

The first plasma shot hit its left shoulder, burning through flesh and exposing black bone beneath.

It barely slowed.

I fired again.

THOOM!

The second bolt hit center mass, melting a hole through its chest.

The mutant collapsed mid-stride, skidding across the pavement.

The air smelled of charred meat.

People stared at me—at the weapon in my hands.

I heard someone whisper:

"He killed it... with that thing..."

I holstered the rifle and walked back to the SUV.

The clock was ticking.

Back at the hideout, I listed my next objectives:

Relocate to Fort Valor.Upgrade plasma weapon efficiency.Develop automated sentry drones.Investigate who's accelerating the mutations.

The world was changing faster than I expected.

I needed to move even faster.

Because something powerful was pulling the strings.