The city looked different when you knew it was doomed.
The morning rush was the same as always: cars clogging the main arteries, buses wheezing past, commuters clutching coffee like talismans. Corporate towers pierced the sky, glass facades reflecting the pale spring light.
But beneath the surface familiarity, I could see the cracks.
People's eyes were shadowed from bad sleep. The news ticker outside the financial district flashed updates about "unprecedented" polar vortex shifts and "record-breaking" typhoons in the southern hemisphere. A side story scrolled by: "Experimental Stratospheric Lab Reports Anomaly – No Risk to Public, Officials Say."
In seventy-three days, those same officials would be broadcasting pre-recorded "remain in your homes" messages from underground bunkers, if they were still alive.
"Mom," Ryan said around a mouthful of donut from the back seat. "If there was, like, a zombie apocalypse, what would you do first?"
Lily snorted. "Oh my God, Ryan, not this again."
"What?" He swallowed, spraying a few crumbs. "We were talking about it in class. Mr. Park said the safest place would be a mall because there's lots of food and stuff."
"Your teacher is an idiot," Lily said promptly.
"Hey," I said mildly, navigating the intersection. "Be respectful."
"She said my music taste is garbage," Ryan muttered.
I nearly laughed.
"Malls have supplies," I said, choosing my words carefully. "But they're also big, open, full of glass, and have a hundred entrances and exits. Hard to secure. Easy to trap."
Ryan leaned forward, captivated. "So where would you go?"
"I'd get out of the city," I said. "Somewhere with clean water, arable land, natural barriers. Somewhere far enough from major roads that people wouldn't find it as soon as things go bad."
"Like a cabin in the woods?" he breathed.
"Cabins in the woods are horror movie bait," Lily said. "Mom means like a farm, duh. With, like, fences and stuff."
"And basements," I said quietly.
"And basements," she agreed, smirking. "You're such a nerd, Ryan."
He didn't rise to it. His eyes were distant, considering.
"Well, I'd go to space," he declared. "Zombies can't get you in space."
"Bold," I said. "Limited oxygen, but bold."
He nodded, satisfied.
Lily rolled her eyes and put her earbuds back in.
I watched the light turn green, then accelerated, mind already flipping through mental maps.
In my other life, the base had been a repurposed industrial park two hours outside the city, chosen in a rush because it had fences and warehouses and a well. It had been enough, barely.
Now, I wanted more.
Natural elevation. Dense forest for cover and resources. Nearby river for water, fishing, and potential hydro power. Existing tunnels would be a bonus.
As I dropped the kids at school—Ryan with a quick hug, Lily with a distracted wave—I made my first deviation from the original timeline.
Instead of heading to my office, I turned toward the outskirts.
"Work," I said aloud, hitting the number for my boss as I merged onto the highway.
"Evelyn," came his pleasantly harried voice. "Everything okay?"
"Actually, no," I lied smoothly. "My mom's having some issues with her heart again. I need to take her to the hospital today. I'll work from home later."
"Oh." A pause, then the usual guilt. "Of course, of course. Family first. Just keep me in the loop about the Bianchi account?"
"I will," I said. "Thanks."
I hung up, exhaled, and felt the first real thread of freedom loosen inside me.
The highway unwound toward the countryside, concrete giving way to low, rolling hills flecked with early spring green.
As the city fell away in the rearview mirror, the System pinged.
[DECISION BRANCH: URBAN VS. RURAL – RURAL SELECTED]
[RISK: SHORT-TERM (FINANCIAL, SOCIAL)]
[BENEFIT: LONG-TERM (SURVIVAL, AUTONOMY)]
[MINOR ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: "EARLY ESCAPE PLAN"]
[+10 SURVIVAL POINTS]
A tiny number ticked up in the corner of my awareness: SP: 10.
"Survival points already?" I murmured. "You're generous today."
In the old timeline, SP had poured in only after the Mist, measured in zombie cores, successful raids, completed quests. Now, apparently, the System was willing to reward intent.
A low amusement brushed the edge of my mind. Or maybe I imagined it.
Fifty minutes later, I pulled off onto a smaller road, then a smaller one still, until concrete gave way to cracked asphalt. Houses thinned out. Trees grew denser.
I passed a shuttered gas station, a sagging barn, a faded sign for a hiking trail. My fingers drummed the steering wheel, tracing old routes.
In my old life, one of our early scouting groups had passed near here, found an abandoned mining town in the hills. Too remote, we'd decided. Hard to access. Harder to defend if we couldn't get enough people there quickly.
Now, remote sounded perfect.
I slowed, turned onto a narrow dirt road half-eaten by encroaching brush, and followed it until it dead-ended at a rusted gate.
"Warning: Private Property," the sign read, letters faded.
Beyond it, hills rose, thick with trees. In the distance, I caught a glint of blue—water, maybe a reservoir or a river bend.
My pulse quickened.
"This will do," I said.
The System chimed.
[POTENTIAL BASE SITE DETECTED]
[EVALUATING…]
[TERRAIN: MIXED FOREST / HILLS]
[WATER SOURCE: PRESENT (RIVER)]
[HUMAN POPULATION DENSITY: LOW]
[ANIMAL POPULATION: MODERATE]
[PREDICTED MIST IMPACT: REDUCED]
[OVERALL RATING: A-]
Not perfect, then. But close.
"What's the minus for?" I asked under my breath.
[UNKNOWN SUBTERRANEAN STRUCTURES]
Old mining tunnels.
A liability—and an asset.
"If I can map them before the Mist," I said, "they'll be escape routes, not deathtraps."
The System didn't respond, but another small notification blinked.
[SIDE QUEST AVAILABLE: "SECURE THE Roots"]
OBJECTIVE:
– ACQUIRE OWNERSHIP OR EFFECTIVE CONTROL OF IDENTIFIED SITE
– ESTABLISH MINIMUM-LEVEL BASE CORE (LV.0) BEFORE T - 45 DAYS
REWARD:
– BASE MODULE (SEALED)
– +50 SURVIVAL POINTS
– UNLOCK: FAMILY AUTHORITY SUBMODULE (LIMITED)
I smiled.
"There you are," I said. "Base building."
In the old world, acquiring land would have meant months of paperwork, permits, background checks. In this transition window, there would still be red tape, but money could grease a lot of wheels.
In my first life, Alex had been the one with the big salary and investor portfolio. I had managed the house, my career, the emotional labor. I'd let him handle the long-term financial strategies.
Not this time.
I pulled up the real estate app again and searched the local listings.
Three nearby properties popped up—two old farmhouses, one "unique opportunity" with "development potential" and a blurry photo of what looked like a cluster of decaying outbuildings.
Price: high but not impossible, especially leveraged.
I checked our accounts.
Alex was doing well at this point: year-end bonuses, stock options. We had savings. A mortgage, yes, but also credit we hadn't maxed. And if I was right about the market dip in three weeks triggered by atmospheric fear, I could—
My phone buzzed.
Alex.
I answered on speaker.
"Everything okay?" he asked. "You disappeared pretty fast."
"I'm with my mom," I said smoothly, eyes on the property description. "Her cardiologist wants to run some tests. I'll be back by this afternoon."
He made a sympathetic noise. "Sorry. Do you need me to pick up the kids?"
"I'll be back in time," I said. "But… Alex?"
"Yeah?"
I hesitated, then plunged ahead.
"What would you think about buying some land?"
A beat.
"…Land?"
"Like a countryside place," I said, keeping my tone casual. "For your parents, mostly. You know they've been talking about retiring somewhere quieter. And with my mom's health, having a place with more fresh air would help."
It wasn't entirely a lie. Our parents had mused about such things over Spring Festival dinners. No one had ever moved past musing.
He made a considering sound.
"It's a big expense," he said. "And we're already stretched with the apartment. But…maybe as an investment property. Land tends to appreciate."
There it was. Speak his language.
"I've been watching the listings," I said. "There's a place near the old mines about an hour and a half out. Mixed-use zoning, dormant permits. If we get it before some developer does, we could subdivide later. Or build rental cabins."
He hummed. "You've thought about this."
"I have," I said, letting some genuine urgency seep into my voice. "And it would mean a lot to me. To my mom. She keeps saying she wants to plant a real garden before she gets too old."
Silence.
In the old timeline, I would have bitten my tongue, worried about putting pressure on him.
Now, I waited.
Finally, he sighed. "Send me the listing. I'll run the numbers. No promises."
Warmth and cold tangled in my chest.
"Thank you," I said.
We hung up.
The minute the call ended, the System chimed.
[RELATIONAL LEVERAGE: EMPLOYED]
[PERSUASION SUCCESS: 63% LIKELIHOOD]
[+5 SURVIVAL POINTS]
"Stop gamifying my marriage," I muttered.
[NOTE: INFORMATION IS NEUTRAL. USAGE IS NOT.]
I snorted.
"Philosophy now."
I emailed the listing to Alex, added some financial projections (cribbed from an investment blog I remembered reading later, adjusted with my future knowledge), then stepped out of the car.
The air smelled different out here: damp earth, growing things. Underneath, faintly, the mineral tang of old stone.
I climbed the sagging fence with care, ignoring the "Private Property" sign. There was no one to see; the place was clearly neglected.
As I walked up the overgrown track, the System overlaid faint markers on my vision—approximate property boundaries, slope grades, water flow directions.
The old farmhouse at the top of the hill was half-collapsed. Good. Fewer reasons for nosy relatives to think of it as a holiday home and drop by uninvited later.
Beyond it, the land fell away toward the river, a glittering ribbon cutting through the valley floor. The banks were lined with dense brush and tall trees. I could almost see the terraced fields that would rise there, the greenhouses glowing at night, the training grounds.
I knelt and dug my fingers into the soil.
It was rich and dark, dense with organic matter. Worms writhed away from the light.
This earth would feed people.
Not just my family. Dozens. Maybe hundreds, if I built smart.
A wave of fierce, almost painful determination swept through me.
In the last timeline, the base had grown around me slowly, an accidental kingdom. I had taken responsibility because no one else could shoulder it without breaking.
This time, I would claim that responsibility on purpose.
I would choose who I fed, who I sheltered, who I armed.
And I would never again stand in a core room with my hand on the heart of the world and realize too late that the people closest to me had turned into strangers.
The soil crumbled between my fingers.
As if sensing my resolve, the System flickered, and another faint notification appeared.
[PLANT AFFINITY: AWAKENING SEED DETECTED]
[CONDITIONS FOR "PLANT MANIPULATION" ABILITY: 12% MET]
I stared.
"So my powers can…gestate early?" I murmured.
[CERTAIN ABILITIES ARE INFLUENCED BY INTENTION AND ENVIRONMENT]
Interesting.
I pressed my palm flat against the ground, closed my eyes, and let memories of future fields and wall-climbing vines and healing herbs flood me.
Warmth pulsed faintly under my skin, then subsided.
A long game.
Fine.
I excelled at those.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a message from my cousin, Claire.
In the old timeline, I had answered this with absent affection. We had exchanged recipes and mild gossip. I had invited her to bring her son over to play with Ryan.
I stared at her name for three full seconds before opening the chat.
[CLAIRE]: hey unnie! you busy?
I could almost hear her bright, chirpy tone.
My jaw clenched.
[ME]: A bit. What's up?
Her reply was instant.
[CLAIRE]: lol always. just wanted to ask about that thing you mentioned over new years? investment stuff??
In the old life, "investment stuff" had been a casual conversation about side income, savings. I had walked her through basics, helped her put a little money in safe funds.
Later, when the Mist fell, that little bit of extra had helped her move faster, bribe her way into safer zones. It had been one of the seeds of her power.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
I could cut her off now. Freeze her out. Keep every advantage to myself and my immediate family.
But I remembered something else, too.
Claire, three years into the apocalypse, leading a ragged group of survivors to my gates. Her son gaunt, her eyes hollow. The way she had looked at the fields inside my walls—with awe, envy, hunger.
If I shut her out, she would still find a way to survive. Ambition like hers was a force.
And without my influence early, without any tether of family loyalty, who knew how much worse she would become?
"Soft-hearted," I muttered at myself.
Still, there were shades of help.
[ME]: Right. I remember. I'm actually looking at land right now. Might be a good time to diversify, before prices go up.
A small, genuine truth wrapped around a bigger lie.
[CLAIRE]: land?? like a farm?? 😂 you gonna be a farmer now?
[ME]: Maybe. Maybe we'll all have to be, someday.
I could almost see her puzzled frown at that.
[CLAIRE]: lol okay, deep. send me what you're looking at? i wanna learn
In the old timeline, I would have sent her everything. Links, plans, my thought process.
Now, I sent her a different listing—one closer to the city, cheaper, more vulnerable.
Let her build her little kingdom where the Mist would hit hardest.
It wouldn't kill her. She was too slippery.
But it might slow her down.
[ME]: Start small. Don't overextend, markets are weird lately.
[CLAIRE]: ugh tell me about it. ok, thanks unnie! you're the best 💖
A laughless sound escaped me.
"That remains to be seen," I whispered.
The System pinged again, a quiet acknowledgment.
[FAMILY ENTANGLEMENT: MINOR ADJUSTMENT]
[FUTURE THREAT TRAJECTORY: ALTERED (UNKNOWN DEGREE)]
[+5 SURVIVAL POINTS]
SP: 20.
A trickle.
It would become a flood later, in blood and cores and decisions.
For now, it was enough to know the game had begun.
I stood, brushed dirt from my jeans, and turned back toward the car.
There were deeds to negotiate, cash to shift, quiet preparations to make.
Seventy-two days, twenty-three hours, and some minutes until the Mist.
This time, when it fell, I wouldn't be one more blinded animal under its veil.
I would be waiting, eyes open, seeds in hand, a base already growing its bones around my family.
And when the System fully woke, it wouldn't be dragging me, terrified, into survival.
We would already be in motion.