The television flickered with grainy images. Reporters struggled to smile through broadcasts that carried more unease than they cared to admit: strange weather patterns, animal migrations gone wrong, unexplained landslides, the unreal growth of trees, and warnings that sounded like superstition to anyone unwilling to see the truth.
But I knew. These were not random disasters; they were the early cracks, the unmistakable whispers of The End.
I muted the screen. I didn't need their voices distracting me; my memories were louder than anything they could report.
The sun hung low on December 22nd. Ten days. That was all the time the world had left to pretend life was normal. Until the sky burned and the ground screamed, that is. After all, I had been one of the blind, too.
But this time, I won't be one of them.
I pulled the notebook closer and began another list—locations.
The Zoo. Not yet. That's for Maeve, when the Death Phoenix descends. But I'll need to scout it beforehand.
Hospitals. Medicine will become rarer than gold. If I secure enough early, Sera won't suffer the shortages that killed so many.
Supermarkets. Food. As much as I can carry—and then more. At least until the situation settles and a new order emerges.
And finally, my Power. I should be able to awaken my original power, Telekinesis, in two days at most. (I couldn't have been more wrong.)
Each word felt heavy, but necessary.
I stopped, staring at the word Food. Hunger.
I remembered the way people turned on each other for a scrap of bread, the way entire families withered before my eyes. The image of Sera, every single detail—her cheeks hollowing, her lips cracked, her eyes trembling between fear and trust, still looking at me as if I held all the answers. That memory alone was enough to hollow out my stomach again, even though I had just eaten.
I gripped the pen tighter until my knuckles whitened. That future will not repeat itself, not for her.
The word Food expanded in my mind, splitting into branches like frozen veins: Non-perishables: rice, canned goods, salt. Water purification: filters, tablets, even charcoal if nothing else. Every item felt urgent; the concept of life wrapped into something so fragile, so small. Humanity once built empires chasing wealth, but the apocalypse taught us what truly mattered—just enough to eat, just enough to live another day.
I pushed back from the desk. Today's destination was the Main Street Market. It was the only logical place where I could get what I wanted quickly and at a manageable price. My mind moved with ruthless efficiency, adding the nearby small hardware store to the route. These two locations were vital for survival and protection. I needed to check them out first.
Outside, the faint sound of children running down the street carried for a while before fading. It felt almost wrong to hear that kind of innocent laughter when I knew what was coming, but I pushed the thought away. I couldn't protect everyone. I needed to get this over with as quickly as possible, so I could focus on the awakening of my power. It has to be done before The End; only then can I protect someone.
As I moved, the air behind me chilled, carrying a scent like old rain and memory. I felt an unseen presence, a shadow that wasn't cast by the low winter sun. I should have been afraid, but I wasn't. It was an unreal sensation, yet completely familiar.
It would be fun to play along. After all, I can't evade the Watcher of Death.
She has returned.