Beneath the Falling Snow: A Calm Before Apocalypse

The snow was getting heavier.

From the window, thick flakes swirled like feathers torn from a celestial pillow, falling endlessly from the sky. Ethan watched the storm unfold with a strange sense of detachment. The world was becoming a frozen wasteland, but his mind remained stuck in the tension of the last dungeon, thinking about the kill rate, the trap mechanics, and the increasing difficulty of each wave.

He had almost forgotten: he was still inside a real Apocalypse.

Outside, cheers echoed from the southern dormitories. College students, blissfully unaware of what was coming, rushed out to play in the snow as if it were a rare treat. Ethan reached for his phone and calmly submitted a sick leave request to his academic advisor.

He wouldn't be attending any classes. Not in the next few days. Not in the next few months.

Soon, the freeze would completely lock down the city.

"Knock, knock, knock!"

The door rattled. A familiar voice called out, soft but clear. "Mr. Ethan, breakfast is ready."

It was Lin Yiwan, his caretaker in this round of the apocalypse. Ethan pulled his gaze away from the snowy world outside and stepped out of his room. The smell of warm food greeted him immediately.

She had laid out a simple but nutritious meal: lean pork and century egg congee, piping hot and steaming from the bowl. He sat down at the table, spoon still in hand, eyes lost in thought.

"Mr. Ethan?" Lin Yiwan leaned forward slightly, her cheeks dusted with red.

He blinked. "Hm?"

"The congee is getting cold…"

He offered a small nod and stirred the bowl absently, the rhythmic motion hypnotic. He wasn't thinking about the congee. His mind was working ahead, calculating.

What rank will the next Apocalypse be?

This one, this blizzard, was of low tier. A Plague-class event at best. It didn't require the use of the Eyes of the Doomed, nor did it seem worth tracking the origin point. So he decided: this time, he would stay still.

Let others scramble. He would enjoy the peace.

He had already survived two rounds, including a Catastrophe-class dungeon. If anyone deserved a break, it was him.

Outside, laughter rang out again. The students were pelting each other with snowballs, their eyes clear and carefree—naive. None of them realized they were living on borrowed time.

With a sigh, Ethan picked up his phone and sent a quick message to his three roommates:

[Stock up. Now.]

He wasn't obligated to help them. They weren't real, NPCs crafted by the system, but in reality, they were his actual friends. And in the game? Still his brothers. Some things don't change.

After sending a few more precautionary messages, he contacted his parents, calmly walked them through what to expect, and reassured them they'd be okay.

Once he handled the logistics, he put away his phone and pulled out his tablet, launching a pre-downloaded single-player RPG. No more pop-ups, no stress—just him and some digital peace.

Thanks to the generators he had installed earlier, the household could run comfortably for an entire year.

Eventually, the laughter outside faded. The snow was falling faster, and the cold bit deeper. The students had retreated to their dorms.

Ethan sank into the couch, warm and relaxed, fingers tapping across the screen. Lin Yiwan quietly placed a plate of sliced fruit beside him without a word, treating him like royalty.

And so he indulged.

Later, she sat next to him and turned on the TV. News filled the screen.

"This blizzard has swept across the globe. Multiple power stations in Gan Shui City have been damaged. Emergency repair efforts are underway. Citizens are advised to remain calm…"

The report continued, but Ethan barely listened. Most civilians didn't know this was a phase of Apocalypse Online. They still believed it was a natural disaster.

In reality, this snowstorm would last three full months.

And this time, the Eyes of the Doomed hadn't activated. He was flying blind. All he could do was wait.

In the class group chat, messages flew nonstop—jokes, wild theories, and exaggerated predictions. Someone even tagged him, telling him not to "burn out from overexcitement."

He rolled his eyes and ignored them.

By noon, the entire world outside was covered in white. The library, the lakeside path, even Moonwatch Lake—all buried. Temperatures were still falling.

Luckily, Lin Yiwan had already started feeding the fireplace. Inside, the house was warm and quiet.

But if anyone stepped outside now, they'd find themselves knee-deep in snow.

This was the South. It wasn't supposed to snow like this.

The group chat's tone began to shift. Nervousness seeped in. Jokes gave way to questions—about food, heat, and survival.

Downstairs, some smarter students had taken action. They cleared out every shop they could find. Instant noodles, sausages, and bottled water—gone.

Store owners were thrilled. One day of snow had made them rich.

But their joy wouldn't last.

That night, the storm worsened. The wind howled through cracks in the building. People dreamed of death, ice, and silence.

The next morning, Ethan's phone lit up.

"Bro! Thank god you told us to stock up! All the stores are closed today, the school's not saying a word, and our whole floor has no food! We've got five boxes of noodles and a mountain of bread and sausages, LOL!"

He chuckled, a rare smile appearing on his lips.

He glanced outside. The snow hadn't stopped. It had only gotten deeper. Not a soul was visible across campus. The South had turned into a frozen ghost town.

Most students still had thick coats, but food…

Food would run out.

And electricity…?

He looked at the still-lit bulb and sighed. It wouldn't last forever. And when the lights went out?

That's when things would start to fall apart.

He headed to the living room and ate the fresh breakfast Lin Yiwan had prepared. He flipped on the TV again.

Every channel was broadcasting updates.

"The army has been deployed to major cities to assist with the disaster response. While the blizzard came without warning, the government is implementing emergency protocols. Citizens are urged to conserve electricity."

The presence of soldiers gave the public hope.

Even Ethan's class group quieted down. The usual complaints faded into silence.

He texted Wang Zi Chen to check in—thankfully, they were safe. Then a message from his mother arrived, asking if he was okay.

He replied simply: "All good."

With the world outside frozen solid, Ethan leaned back on the couch.

There was only one thing left to do—wait for the cooldown of the Judgment Scale.

And when was it ready? 

He would weigh the world again.