Buildings and skyscrapers had crumbled into rubble. Bridges collapsed into rivers and seas. The great architectural marvels of both ancient and modern civilizations, which had stood for centuries, were gone in an instant.
On the streets lay corpses of people, zombies, and beast-like creatures that towered hundreds of feet tall. Even the animals humans once domesticated—pets that had been loyal companions—had become more ferocious than any monster that had ever walked the earth.
This was the reality after the day that changed the world forever.
[24th May 7456]A few days before the apocalypse
A boy, about 18 years old, walked through a silent hallway. His ruby-colored eyes carried nothing but indifference. With natural white hair, eyes like gemstones, and a scar slashing across his right eyebrow, his appearance was striking—intimidating at times, and far above average in looks. He stood about six feet tall, medium build, not skinny nor bulky, with a faint muscular tone.
This was Markus Miller.
He had been orphaned at the age of twelve, when his parents perished in an airplane crash. His father, Matthew Miller, had been the chairman and sole owner of Miller Corporation, a multi-million-dollar biotech company. His mother, Charissa Miller, owned several successful fashion brands. Both were accomplished, both admired. But their deaths were shrouded in mystery.
The plane had suddenly disappeared from radar before being discovered, burning, by a villager in the mountains. The pilot's corpse was found inside the wreckage. But strangely, the bodies of Markus's parents were never recovered—despite months of extensive search operations.
After their deaths, Markus's mother's cousin—his uncle, Vinson Kurtis—stepped forward to "take care" of him. At the same time, he assumed temporary control of the Miller fortune, since Markus was too young.
But Markus knew this man well. His parents had never trusted Vinson; there had been bitter disputes in the past. Vinson had even attempted to sabotage Miller Corporation, bribing high-level employees and leaking classified information to competitors. Relations had soured beyond repair. And yet, now this same man suddenly volunteered to "care" for the heir to the empire.
It wasn't hard to guess his real intentions.
Markus knew what kind of man Vinson was, but he had no choice. He had no other living relatives. And as the law stated, guardianship fell to the closest available kin.
Since then, Markus's life had been nothing short of miserable.
Vinson was successful in his own right, but compared to the Miller fortune, his achievements were insignificant. Even after his cousins' deaths, the old jealousy burned inside him. He did not physically harm Markus, but he vented his bitterness in other ways—constant psychological torment. He would remind Markus daily that he was an orphan, fabricate gruesome tales about his parents being torn apart by wild animals, and make sure the boy never forgot his supposed "place."
Adding to Vinson's bitterness was his infertility. Despite countless medical procedures, even a dangerous genetic modification that nearly cost him his life, he could not have children. With his legacy gone, his hatred for Markus only deepened.
For nearly three years, Markus endured his uncle's mental torture. But when high school began, he seized the chance to escape—moving into the school dorms.
Ironically, though Vinson despised Markus, he still enrolled him in one of the country's top schools. Perhaps he feared people would question why the heir of the Miller family was being hidden away in a mediocre academy. Whatever the reason, it was a blessing for Markus. In school, Vinson's reach could not follow.
Markus was a good student. He didn't always top the class, but his results were solid. He wasn't particularly popular, but neither was he a loner. With a small circle of friends who shared his interests, he managed well enough.
Now, as summer break approached, students bustled about, packing their bags and making plans for the holidays.
Should I return to the countryside villa for the summer break… or stay here? Markus wondered. If I stay, Uncle Rius will no doubt force me into endless tutoring. But I also need to visit the company for the handover. I'll have to ask him later.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp ringing.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Glancing at his smartwatch, Markus grimaced at the caller ID.
Speak of the devil… He sighed, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. He didn't want to answer, but refusing wasn't an option.
"Markus! Why don't you ever call me first? It's like you forget all about me—unless you need an advance on your allowance," a deep voice teased through the holographic projection.
The speaker was Rius Backwater.
Tall and slim, with aristocratic features, Rius looked like one of those noble vampires from books and films. Women in the social circles often whispered about him, but he remained out of reach—admired, but untouchable.
Rius was well-known among the elite, not just for his looks but for his notorious personality. Though he wore a charming smile, he was far from gentle. Calling him "strict" or "demanding" would be putting it mildly.
He was a perfectionist, a workaholic, and utterly uncompromising. He paid his staff generously, but in return, he demanded complete dedication. To him, excuses were meaningless.
"You're sick and want a day off? Take some painkillers and come in. No? Don't worry, plenty of people would gladly take your place."
"You can't work fourteen hours a day like Mr. Dwayne, yet you demand the same salary? You're fired. Enjoy your social life."
Unreasonable. Ruthless. That was Rius.
Yet he was also the dean of Markus's school and a close friend of Markus's late father. The Millers had donated large sums to his foundations, cementing the bond. It was thanks to Rius that Markus had been admitted into such a prestigious school in the first place.
Though not related by blood, Rius treated Markus like his own son. He had even tried to adopt him after his parents' disappearance, but Vinson's legal guardianship had blocked the attempt. Still, Rius made sure Markus lacked nothing.
But Markus himself wasn't always grateful. Rius's "care" often meant seven hours of tutoring even during holidays. Helpful for his grades, yes—but suffocating nonetheless.
"We just talked last week," Markus said softly. "Anyway, why did you call? Are you giving me an advance allowance? I've already spent this week's."
Rius sighed. "Fine, I'll send some over. But I actually called to ask about your summer plans. Are you heading to your maternal uncle's place—or the countryside villa?"
Markus thought for a moment before answering. "I haven't decided. I do want to spend the summer peacefully at the villa. But I'm about to turn eighteen. Maybe it's time I take back what's rightfully mine from that bastard."