When the Snow Fell, Humanity Broke

By the seventh day of Apocalypse Online, the orderly world had unraveled. The teacher's apartment, previously home to just two people, now had a third resident: Murong Xiner. There were only two rooms. Lin Yiwan, always practical, surrendered hers without a fight. She didn't want to sleep in the same room as Xiner anyway.

So, Ethan remained.

Now he and Lin Yiwan were sharing a room, but not a bed. When she tried to make herself a mat on the floor, Ethan insisted that she shouldn't sleep on the floor while he was comfortable. So, Lin Yiwan took the bed, and he lay below, staring at the cracked ceiling while the wind howled outside.

Two days went by.

Then the messages stopped.

The government, which had been a dependable presence each morning, fell silent. No more alerts. No updates. Nothing.

Panic spread across the campus.

Was the apocalypse really upon them?

Group chats exploded with desperate appeals and negotiations.

"Hey Ethan, you still got canned food, right? Mind sharing some?"

He turned them all down. "Sorry, I barely have enough for myself."

By now, everyone has got it. Food was essential. Even roommates who once traded class notes and gaming accounts were turning against each other over half a pack of crackers.

Hunger transformed people.

Ethan scrolled through the messages in the university group chat. Chaos, screams, fights, desperation.

In some dorms, students were breaking down doors and robbing their neighbors. Some ventured out into the snow, shivering, faces windburned, collecting snow in buckets to melt for drinking water.

It got worse.

On the eighth day, people began smashing shopfronts. Any store with its lights off became a target. Knives, bricks, hammers—anything that could break a window. The few shopkeepers who hadn't escaped were quickly overrun.

Campus stores were emptied in hours.

Then, on the tenth day, the power grid gave its last flickering breath. Darkness enveloped the nights completely. No lights, no heat, no phone charging. Silence.

The once-busy group chats turned into graveyards.

Ethan's three roommates took the hint. They locked themselves in and went completely dark, likely trying to weather the storm in isolation. As long as they didn't eye his supplies, he was okay with that.

Murong Xiner, however, had settled in completely. She brought back stories from the frontlines—tales from the Doomsday Management Bureau. According to her, several international teams had already been forced to retreat. Even players from America were ordered home.

The next dungeon was confirmed to be Annihilation-class.

No wonder global faces looked pale. Some nations even denied the evidence, claiming it was exaggerated. But not the players from Huaxia. Especially not when the source of this frozen nightmare was said to be connected to an old prophecy—one too dangerous to even mention.

He heard that even Japan's players had to be physically convinced to leave. The Bureau didn't play nice.

Why did everyone trust Huaxia's words without question?

Because of Wang Zi Chen.

Because of Wan'er.

And because of Chang Yeqing, the elderly man who revealed the only public S-class prophecy known to all players.

Unlike the arrogant American prophet Master Sigrono, who charged gold bars for his words, the old man from Huaxia shared his visions without charge. His reputation was solid.

So when Huaxia's Bureau claimed that the next dungeon would change the world, everyone listened.

Day 11.

Ethan lay on the floor, casually playing a matching game on his phone. Next to him, Lin Yiwan watched a drama series she had downloaded. With the power out, streaming was no longer an option. They held on to whatever content they had managed to save.

Then a message popped up on his screen.

"Su Qianran."

Lin Yiwan's eyes darted to the screen.

She blinked.

Wait... that Su Qianran?

Her curiosity was piqued.

She recalled her little brother Lin Yujia mentioning this name. He had shown her Ethan's old social media posts. One, in particular, stuck with her. A photo of empty beer bottles under warm lighting. The caption read, "When the clouds part, will stars truly fill the sky again?"

It had been memorable.

Was this the Ethan? The same person who faced disaster-class events without flinching? Who wielded the Terminus Shard and unraveled the secrets of a Catastrophe-class endgame?

And he used to be infatuated?

She had laughed for an hour straight.

Ethan had pursued Su Qianran for two whole years. Her brother even had screenshots to verify it. Touchingly heartfelt messages. Even poetry.

She watched now, intrigued.

Ethan's thumb hovered over the screen. He opened the message.

Su Qianran: "Ethan, can we talk? Please... Do you not have any extra food?"

Ethan: "No. Don't contact me again."

Lin Yiwan blinked.

Oh? The nice guy strikes back?

She bit her lip to suppress a laugh. Still, the gravity of the situation weighed on her.

In this world, NPCs in the dungeons mirrored their real-life counterparts. If Su Qianran appeared here, reaching out like this, then that meant... this was precisely what the real Su Qianran would do in a crisis.

And Ethan's response?

Cold. Final. Done.

She glanced at him again, a new sense of respect forming. Maybe he wasn't just the fool her brother described.

Outside, the snow fell as if the sky were bleeding ice. Inside, silence stretched between them. The darkness hummed with secrets.

And deep in the frozen heart of the city, something stirred.