"Global Warning! Zombies have broken through our national defense line".
"All citizens around the world, please enter the underground bunkers immediately."
"Warning: Code Black! All countries around the world are collapsing one after another."
"As of today, December 31st, 2035, humanity as we once knew it is hereby extinct."
The radio broadcast spread across the world; the remaining humans in this world all have hollow eyes devoid of any emotions or resistance, as they have already accepted their fate.
The entire world seemed to fall into complete silence, not the silence of peace or anything, rather, the silence of graves of the entire human civilization.
Just like that, an entire species was erased in a single, cold and chilling sentence.
Cities, countries, and buildings that once dotted these beautiful landscapes are now nothing but dark graves.
Skyscrapers that once stood tall, that once represented the pinnacle of humanity's creativity and dominance in this world, now stood like broken tombstones.
Smoke filled the once beautiful blue and vibrant cloud, making it hard to even distinguish between night and day.
The world itself seems to weep, drenched in blood and corpses of what was once the powerful civilization of this world.
That signaled the end of the human race, once the protagonist of this world.
Or it could have been....
---
Apex City.....
Cyrus Axel's eyes snapped open as he jumped upright from his small creaky bed, gasping for air; his chest heaved up and down vigorously as he took in huge chunks of oxygen.
His heart was beating so loudly that his heartbeat could be heard in this small room.
Ba..thum..Ba..thum...Ba..thum!
His heart pounded loudly like a drum.
His hands curled up into fists as his instinctively conditioned body dropped into a battle stance, something he had honed for a decade living in the apocalypse.
His entire body was drenched in cold sweat; the clothes he was wearing stuck to his skin because of the sweat, as if he had been fished out of water.
His eyes immediately scanned his surroundings like a predator; his eyes looked like that of a beast, bloodshot and filled with deep killing intent.
This is not the battlefield he remembers, not the destroyed ruins of the last human shelter, not the roaring and screaming of zombies.
Instead, what caught his eye was the peeling cream paint on the walls, a rickety desk in the corner, a broken lamp whose shade leaned drunkenly to one side, and the faint musty smell of old books.
Cyrus immediately froze in place as his eyes, which were filled with fighting intent, were now full of surprise.
He looked around, still in his battle stance as he scanned the room.
This place...this room...felt way too familiar in a way that sent his heart hammering against his chest.
His gaze drifted toward the nightstand, where an old picture frame was standing.
A photograph of his younger self, smiling awkwardly, hair untamed but eyes bright with dreams of a future that would never come, standing between his parents.
The shock and bewilderment that he was already feeling immediately escalated by a few more degrees.
He turned slowly to the far wall where a worn calendar hung.
His eyes immediately locked onto the date circled in red ink: October 1st, 2025.
"Th...this...this...is..impossible...there...is no way this is possible...no way," he opened his mouth; his voice sounded hoarse and dry.
He immediately staggered into the cramped bathroom, bare feet slapping against the cool linoleum, and clutched the sink as he stared into the cracked mirror in front of him.
What stared back at him wasn't the scarred, hollow-eyed man who had clawed through ten years of hell.
No burns, no jagged scars, no sunken cheeks carved by starvation.
Instead, staring back was an eighteen-year-old boy. His silver-white hair hung loosely down to his shoulders, thick, disheveled, but untouched by ash or filth.
His lean frame hadn't yet been hardened into a weapon by survival; his eyes were still clear and sharp, but still unburdened by the painful reminder of a time before despair became second nature.
He raised his trembling hand; the reflection in the mirror copied him, his fingers brushing against his skin that is unmarked by the cruelty of the future.
His throat moved up and down, his mouth felt dry. "This… this is me… ten years ago."
His body stood there in deep shock, his eyes was in a trance as a storm of memories flashed through his head.
Memories of the tension of the year of hell he had endured, ten years of unimaginable pain and suffering.
The first outbreak came; it was unexpected, a surprise attack on humanity, the screams of people tearing through the city streets.
People mutated into grotesque, man-eating zombies.
The NTZX-22 virus, as it was called later in the near future by scientists, mutated nearly sixty percent of humanity into ravenous husks that devoured anything standing in their way.
These were zombies not the stumbling and slow creatures in movies or films, but monsters faster, stronger, and more relentless than any nightmare, monsters that could evolve.
Their hunger was infinite; their flesh endlessly mutating.
The infection didn't stop with only humans.
Animals, plants, anything that was a living organism all mutated.
Animals mutated into twisted, grotesque parodies of themselves, becoming ten times larger than their normal sizes.
Rats grew as large as motorcycles, swarming through sewers and streets alike.
Ants bloated into armored monstrosities, mandibles slicing through steel like butter.
Forests turned into forbidden zones; anything that went there never returned in one piece. Trees were so huge that they covered an entire city.
The seas were filled with giant deep-sea creatures so huge and abnormal that they could drag an entire island to the bottom of the sea.
Humans, who were once proud of themselves and the undisputed number one predator on the top of the food chain, were reduced to mere prey overnight.
Cyrus's fists were clenched so tightly that the knuckles turned white as these unbearable and painful memories flashed in his mind like a movie playing in his head.
He remembered the rise of the Corpse Kings and Beast Kings—towering abominations that commanded hordes with twisted intelligence on par with humans.
He remembered the desperate actions of survivors tearing one another apart for just a piece of molded bread.
Ten years... ten years of fighting, bleeding, and clawing through despair and hell.
And ultimately, at the end on December 31st, 2035, humanity, after ten long years, was already on the brink of extinction.
He had watched as the survival base he was in was breached by a horde of zombies and all the people in the base were slaughtered and eaten.
He remembered the tidal wave of the dead crashing over walls, tearing through soldiers, devouring them.
He remembered the suffocating weight of failure as he was dragged into the abyss.
He remembered dying, being torn from limb to limb, his flesh being eaten.
But here he stood back in his old apartment, in the body of his younger self, on a date ten years before the end.
The realization crashed into him with such force that his legs gave out. He slumped to the floor, staring blankly at the cracked tiles beneath him.
And then... slowly, at first... his lips curled. A sound bubbled up from his throat; his shoulders started trembling.
A faint chuckle escaped from his lips, and it grew louder, sharper, maniacal, until it filled the cramped bathroom with eerie and creepy echoes.
"Hah… hahahahah…
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA..!"
Cyrus threw his head back and burst out into a roar of laughter, the sound raw and unhinged, like the roar of a beast, venting all the emotions that had been bottled up inside him for ten years.
His body started shaking like a leaf as tears streamed down his cheeks, but whether this was from grief, rage, or sheer ecstasy, even he didn't know.
This is the laugh of a man who had already witnessed the end. The laugh of a man who had nothing left to lose, yet everything to gain.
His voice was hoarse when the laughter finally died down.
"If this is real.. if tbis is truly real..if this means I have granted a second second chance at life..".
Cyrus voice was raw, hoarse and cracked as he said"…then I will never be powerless again... never in this life again."
His words sounded through the bathroom, a promise he had made to himself.
Before he could say anything more, a cold, mechanical, and emotionless voice sounded in his mind.
[Initializing Noah Civilization Core…]
He immediately stiffened in shock and astonishment.
[Matching Vital Signal Detected: Human Host]
[Designation recognized: Cyrus Axel. Genetic sequence and neural signature synchronized]
[Civilization Administrator status granted]
The atmosphere in the small room seemed to become much heavier as the air thrum with power, heavy and suffocating.
[Welcome, Administrator.]
[You are now bound to Noah.]
The voice reverberated directly in his mind, cold and emotionless.
He sat there, still stiff from the shock, his fist curled up so tightly that his knuckles turned white, as his body shook.
His pupils contracted as shock flashed through them; there was even a tinge of fear flashing through his heart.
Suddenly hearing a cold and emotionless voice in your head will surely creep you out.
"…Who… who… are you?!"