Arthur had always imagined that if the world ever ended, he'd be the first to die. Not out of bad luck or heroism, just… inertia. He never quite saw the point of scrambling to survive just to die another day.
So when the floating blue screen appeared in front of his eyes with a subtle [DING!], Arthur barely blinked.
> [Tutorial Scenario: Kill or Be Killed – 09:59 Remaining]
[System Integrated. Welcome, Player.]
[Earth Protocol: "Survival of the Fittest" Initiated.]
[Survive. Kill. Earn Coins. Adapt or Die.]
"…Huh," Arthur said aloud.
It was more observation than alarm. He stood there, half-soaked in the drizzle of late-night rain, staring at the glowing panel like it was just another pop-up ad he didn't remember clicking.
The city around him carried on like any other miserable Tuesday. Neon signs blinked without rhythm. Somewhere, a dog barked at nothing. Arthur stood alone on the sidewalk, a cheap umbrella dangling from his wrist, his briefcase bumping against his thigh with each step he didn't take.
He tried to swipe the message away. His hand passed through the screen like smoke. It hovered, persistent.
Then came the government announcement.
A sharp buzz broke the silence, followed by a distorted voice from a nearby traffic pole.
> "THIS IS A NATIONAL EMERGENCY—"
"...Interdimensional anomalies... Dungeons confirmed... Extreme threat level..."
"Civilians are advised to seek—SZZKHT— shelter..."
The broadcast died mid-sentence.
Then the sky ripped open.
It didn't explode or erupt like in movies. It peeled, like reality itself had been taped over and someone just started removing the top layer. The stars vanished, replaced by a swirling green vortex. Shapes moved inside it. Some were vaguely human. Most were not.
And then… they fell.
Creatures poured out of the sky like rain. Some screeched, others howled. Some flapped wings made of bone and sinew. A few crawled. All of them dripped something that steamed when it hit the pavement.
On the ground, it got worse. Street cracks widened and from them emerged figures: bloated, rotting, groaning.
Zombies.
Real ones. Like, movie-grade, jaw-unhinged, arms-swinging-like-murderous-windmills zombies.
Arthur's mouth parted slightly in mild disbelief.
Oh, he thought. This is actually happening.
He wasn't panicked. Not exactly. But he wasn't not scared either. His hands felt cold. His feet heavier than usual. Not fear. Something deeper. That familiar emptiness that followed him like a sad dog. Only now it was wrapped in gunmetal dread.
People screamed around him. A woman ran past barefoot, clutching her purse. A car crashed into a bus stop. A man was pulled down by three monsters and vanished beneath gnashing teeth.
Arthur didn't move.
This was it. The moment. The end. And for once, he didn't have to do anything to make it happen.
His heart raced, but not in terror — anticipation? Maybe. Maybe not. He wasn't sure anymore.
A shuffling sound drew his attention. One of the zombies — greasy, limping, eye hanging loosely — had noticed him.
It groaned and stumbled forward, slow but determined. Arthur stared.
"Okay," he whispered to himself. "Let's make it quick."
The zombie lunged.
A WHISTLING SOUND tore through the air.
Then — CRUNCH.
The zombie's head exploded. Not from a bullet. From an air conditioning unit.
Arthur blinked. A rooftop unit — one of those massive industrial ones — had somehow broken free, sailed through the air, and flattened the undead like a pancake.
He stared at it for a solid five seconds. The only sound was steam hissing from the crushed machine.
"...Did the sky just throw an AC unit at me?"
Behind him, a trembling man peeked from behind a trash bin. "D-did you... summon that?"
Arthur turned. "Do I look like I summon HVAC appliances?"
"I-I saw it," the man said. "You didn't even move. And it just... boom."
Arthur sighed. "I was trying to die. Apparently, that's too complicated."
He turned and walked off.
He passed a goblin — it tripped over a loose shoelace and impaled itself on a fence.
He ignored a winged creature — it exploded midair, tangled in power lines.
The apocalypse, it seemed, was determined to keep him alive through sheer statistical improbability.
And then — crying.
Faint. Childlike. It came from a crushed bookstore up ahead. Arthur considered ignoring it.
But curiosity was a disease, and he'd been alone for too long.
Inside the collapsed building, he spotted a boy — maybe eight, clutching a cracked lunchbox, eyes wide with terror. A zombie approached him, slow but certain.
Arthur scanned the floor. No convenient appliances in sight.
With a reluctant groan, he grabbed a rock and lobbed it at the zombie's head. Not a throw of valor — more like lazy bowling.
The zombie paused.
The bookstore's weakened ceiling chose that moment to collapse, burying the creature beneath a hail of dusty hardcovers and metal beams.
The child blinked.
Arthur shrugged. "Not my fault this time."
The kid stared.
Arthur sighed. "Go. Hide. I'm not your babysitter."
The boy remained motionless.
Arthur turned to walk away.
Five steps in— pat pat pat. Footsteps behind him.
He glanced back. The kid was following, dragging his lunchbox like a teddy bear.
Arthur scowled. "No."
The kid blinked.
Arthur walked faster.
Pat pat pat.
He stopped. Turned around. "You want to die too, kid?"
The boy shook his head.
"Then why are you following me?"
"I... I don't have anywhere else to go."
Arthur clenched his jaw.
Then—
> [New Companion Acquired – Jun (Lv. 1)]
[Hidden Achievement Unlocked: "Accidental Savior" – +20 Coins]
[Your reputation has increased.]
Arthur rubbed his face. "Great. The apocalypse has achievements now."
The boy looked up. "What's your name, mister?"
"Arthur."
"I'm Jun."
"Good for you."
Jun smiled.
Arthur did not.