Three days.
Seventy-two hours until midnight. Until everything ended.
I woke on Day -3 to the sound of delivery trucks rumbling up to the compound gates. Chain-link fencing. Steel plates. Industrial locks. The drivers looked at me strangely when I tipped them cash and told them to leave the materials by the entrance.
"Hell of a security upgrade," one of them muttered.
You have no idea, I thought.
The compound transformed under Max Yang's direction. She moved with military precision—directing Liu Feng and Hui Zhang, organizing the chaos of materials into a defensive perimeter. By nightfall, the main gate gleamed with layers of reinforced steel. Ground-floor windows disappeared behind iron bars. Emergency ropes hung coiled from every upper-floor window.
I worked until my hands bled.
Day -2 arrived before I'd slept.
Three more trips. Canned goods. Bottled water. Medical kits. Flashlights. Batteries. Weapons. The storage room filled to capacity, then beyond. Max Yang stopped asking where I got the money for all this. Maybe she understood that money would soon be worthless. Maybe she just didn't care.
We worked until our muscles screamed.
And then came Day -1.
The last normal day.
------------------------------
I woke up at dawn and lay still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling.
Twenty-four hours.
In twenty-four hours, the world would end. The virus would begin spreading. The infected would rise. Everything humanity had built over thousands of years would start crumbling.
And I would be ready.
Ghost stirred beside me, her golden eyes opening slowly.
Today, she observed through our bond. Master's energy feels different.
She was right. My Death Aura pulsed stronger now, almost eager. It knew what was coming. It was preparing, just as I was.
"Today," I agreed aloud. "The last day."
Then what?
"Then we fight."
Ghost considered this, then stretched and hopped off the bed.
Then Master should eat breakfast. Cannot fight on empty stomach.
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
"Practical advice."
Master needs someone practical. Master too focused on death.
"That's literally my power."
Exactly why Master needs balance.
I got up and made breakfast—instant noodles again, because cooking skills had never been my priority in either life. Ghost watched from the counter, already having caught and eaten a cockroach that had been foolish enough to emerge from the walls.
As I ate, I reviewed my mental checklist one final time.
Compound: Fortified. Multiple escape routes. Stockpiled for at least two months.
Allies: Max Yang, Liu Feng, Hui Zhang. Not quite friends, but solid potential survivors.
Power: Growing stronger by the hour. Death Aura now extended nearly a hundred meters.
Min-Tong: Located and monitored. Plan to reach her on Day 3, before the original timeline's death.
Exit strategy: Multiple scenarios prepared depending on how the outbreak spreads.
Everything was as ready as it could be.
Now I just had to wait.
------------------------------
I called in sick to work.
It felt strange, using such a mundane excuse on the last day of civilization. But what else could I say? "Sorry, I won't be coming in because the apocalypse starts tonight and I need to prepare?"
Chen Chen answered the phone. "Wei? You okay?"
"Stomach flu," I lied. "Don't want to spread it around the office."
"Damn, that sucks. Want me to bring you anything?"
In twenty-four hours, you'll be dead or dying. In forty-eight hours, you'll be one of them.
"I'll be fine," I said. "Just need rest."
"All right. Feel better, man. And hey—if you're still sick tomorrow, don't push it. The Yang account can wait."
The Yang account. Still talking about the Yang account.
"Thanks, Chen Chen."
"No problem. Take care of yourself."
I hung up and stared at the phone.
Chen Chen had been a decent coworker. Not a close friend—I hadn't allowed myself close friends in this timeline—but decent. Kind, even.
In my original life, he had survived the initial outbreak. Made it almost two weeks before a horde cornered him in a grocery store. I had found his body later, half-devoured, one hand still clutching a can of soup.
I hadn't been strong enough to save him then.
But I'm stronger now, I thought. Maybe this time will be different.
Maybe.
------------------------------
I spent the morning at the compound, doing final checks.
The gates: Reinforced with steel plates and three heavy-duty locks. Nothing was getting through without serious effort.
The walls: Solid. A few more cracks filled with quick-setting cement. The barbed wire replaced with fresh coils.
The windows: Ground floor completely sealed. Upper floors barred but still functional for light and air.
The supplies: Organized by category. Food and water in one room. Medical supplies in another. Weapons—crowbars, axes, hammets, knives—stored in a locked cabinet.
The escape routes: Three different paths out of the compound if we needed to evacuate. Two through maintenance tunnels, one over the back wall using the emergency ropes.
Max Yang stood beside me as I inspected the rooftop access, her arms crossed against the morning chill.
"You really think it's coming," she said. Not a question.
"I know it's coming."
"Tonight?"
"Tonight."
She was quiet for a moment, looking out over the compound, then at the city beyond the walls.
"I've been preparing for collapse for two years," she said finally. "Economic, environmental, social—I knew something was coming. But this..." She shook her head. "If you're right—if this really happens—what comes after?"
I thought about the ten thousand years I had lived. The ruins and the wars and the endless struggle against darkness.
"Survival," I said. "That's what comes after. We survive, and we rebuild."
"Into what?"
Into something better. Or something worse. Depends on who's doing the rebuilding.
"That's a question for later," I said aloud. "First, we have to make it through."
Max Yang nodded slowly, accepting this.
"Hui Zhang thinks you're either crazy or ex-military," she said. "Liu Feng thinks you're some kind of prophet. I think..." She paused, studying me. "I think you've seen this before. Somehow."
I met her gaze steadily. "Does it matter?"
"No," she said. "I suppose it doesn't. As long as we survive."
"That's the plan."
She nodded and turned to head back downstairs.
At the doorway, she paused.
"Wei," she said. "Thank you. For the warning. For the help. Even if nothing happens tonight—even if you're wrong—we're better prepared than we were. That counts for something."
"I'm not wrong," I said quietly.
Max Yang looked at me for a long moment, then nodded.
"I know," she said. "That's what scares me."
She descended the stairs, leaving me alone on the roof.
I stood there for a while, looking out at the city. Seattle, alive and bustling, completely unaware of what was coming.
Twenty hours.
The afternoon sun beat down, warm and deceptively peaceful.
Enjoy it while it lasts, I thought. This is the last sunset of the old world.
------------------------------
I went home in the late afternoon, needing to check on Ghost and gather my personal supplies.
The apartment building was quieter than usual—most people still at work or school. I could sense the few residents at home: Mrs. Rodriguez in 3B, already infected but not yet showing symptoms. Mr. Watson's teenage son in 2A, playing video games. An elderly man in 1C, napping in front of the TV.
All dead soon.
I let myself into my apartment and found Ghost waiting, as always.
Master returns early.
"It's time," I said. "We're leaving soon. You'll come with me to the compound."
Ghost's tail twitched. Different den?
"A safer den. This building will be dangerous when the change comes."
Change? Ghost tilted her head, sensing my unease.
"You'll see," I said. "Soon enough."
I packed a bag with my remaining personal belongings—clothes, documents, a few photos I'd kept from my previous life. The photo of Min-Tong and me at the beach, smiling like we thought happiness would last forever.
Naive, I thought, tracing her face with my finger. We were so naive.
But this time would be different.
This time, I would save her.
I tucked the photo into my jacket pocket and continued packing.
------------------------------
At 6 PM, I stood at my apartment window one last time, looking out at the city.
The evening rush was in full swing. Cars clogged the streets. People hurried home from work. Restaurants filled up with diners. Street vendors called out their wares. Children played in the courtyard below, their laughter echoing off the concrete walls.
Normal.
So perfectly, heartbreakingly normal.
I reached out with my Death Aura, sensing the life all around me. Hundreds of people in this building alone. Thousands in the surrounding blocks. Millions across the city.
All living their last normal evening.
My power thrummed beneath my skin, anticipating the feast to come. Soon, so many would die. And soon after, they would rise.
And when they rose, I would be waiting.
Not all of them, I promised myself. I'll save some. Min-Tong. Max Yang and her people. Maybe even Chen Chen, if I can reach him in time.
But I can't save everyone.
The thought hurt more than it should. Ten thousand years should have numbed me to loss. But standing here, watching children play and families gather for dinner, I felt it again.
That crushing weight of knowing what was coming and being unable to stop it.
"We should go," I said to Ghost.
She jumped into the carrier I'd prepared, settling with her usual grace.
Master is sad.
"Master will be fine."
Liar.
"Maybe," I admitted.
I took one last look around the apartment. This place had been my home for three years in this timeline. Not much of a home—just four walls and cheap furniture—but mine nonetheless.
I wouldn't be coming back.
I locked the door behind me and headed for the stairs.
In the hallway, Mrs. Rodriguez's door opened.
She stepped out, looking slightly feverish, one hand pressed to her forehead.
"Wei," she said, her voice strained. "I don't feel well. Do you have any medicine?"
I stopped, my Death Aura screaming warnings.
Infected. Early stage. Twelve hours until turn.
This was it. Patient zero. The beginning of the end.
"Go to the hospital," I said firmly. "Now. Don't wait."
"It's just a headache—"
"Go to the hospital," I repeated, more urgently. "Trust me. This isn't something you can treat at home."
Mrs. Rodriguez frowned, clearly thinking I was overreacting. But something in my tone must have convinced her.
"All right," she said slowly. "I'll... I'll call a taxi."
"Good."
I didn't wait to see if she actually went. It wouldn't matter. The hospital would be overwhelmed within hours. And Mrs. Rodriguez would turn, regardless of where she was when it happened.
But at least she wouldn't turn here, in the building, where she could infect everyone else immediately.
Small mercy, I thought. But mercy nonetheless.
I descended the stairs and stepped out into the evening air.
Behind me, the building stood quiet and ordinary, full of people living their last normal hours.
I didn't look back.
------------------------------
The compound felt different when I arrived.
Max Yang, Liu Feng, and Hui Zhang were all there, gathered in the main common area. They had made dinner—simple rice and vegetables, but more than I'd eaten in days.
"You're staying tonight?" Max Yang asked.
"We all are," I said. "If I'm right, we don't want to be caught outside when it starts."
"When exactly does it start?" Hui Zhang asked, still skeptical but no longer openly hostile.
I checked my watch.
Seven hours, forty-three minutes.
"Midnight," I said. "Or close to it."
The three of them exchanged glances.
"And we just... wait?" Liu Feng said.
"We wait," I confirmed. "And we prepare. When morning comes, the world will be very different."
"And if nothing happens?" Hui Zhang pressed.
"Then you'll have wasted one night," I said calmly. "And I'll have wasted three weeks of preparation and most of my money. We'll all look very foolish."
"But you don't think that will happen," Max Yang said.
"No," I said. "I don't."
We ate dinner in relative silence. Afterwards, we each claimed a sleeping area—more for the illusion of rest than actual expectation of sleep. I doubted any of us would manage to sleep tonight.
I settled near the main entrance with Ghost curled beside me. Through the barred windows, I could see the city lights twinkling in the distance.
So many lights.
So many lives.
Six hours.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my Death Aura, sensing the city's pulse. The sick, the dying, the infected. They were everywhere now, scattered like seeds waiting to sprout.
And at midnight, they would bloom.
Five hours.
Max Yang sat nearby, cleaning a crowbar with methodical precision. Hui Zhang stood watch on the roof. Liu Feng paced nervously, unable to sit still.
Four hours.
The city's pulse grew weaker. More of the infected showing symptoms now. Emergency rooms beginning to fill. Doctors and nurses confused by the sudden influx of patients with identical symptoms.
Three hours.
My power thrummed with anticipation. Soon. Soon, the barriers between life and death would thin. Soon, the dead would walk.
And I would be their master.
Two hours.
Hui Zhang descended from the roof. "The city looks normal," he reported. "No signs of anything wrong."
"Give it time," I said.
One hour.
I stood and walked to the window, staring out at the city.
Seattle. Shining and beautiful in the night. Completely unaware of its impending doom.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear. "I'm sorry I can't save all of you."
Thirty minutes.
Max Yang joined me at the window.
"Whatever happens tonight," she said quietly, "thank you for trying."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Fifteen minutes.
Ghost pressed against my leg, sensing my tension.
Master?
Soon, I told her. Very soon.
Ten minutes.
I checked my watch. 11:50 PM.
In my original timeline, the first reported case had been at 11:47 PM, at Westlake Center. A security guard had collapsed, seizing violently, then died.
Three minutes later, he had risen.
Five minutes.
"Here we go," I murmured.
One minute.
The city lights continued twinkling, unaware.
And then, exactly on schedule, everything changed.
------------------------------
My Death Aura exploded outward, suddenly sensing not dozens or hundreds but thousands of deaths all at once.
The virus had reached critical mass.
All across the city, people were collapsing. Dying. Rising.
It had begun.
Day Zero.
The apocalypse.
Behind me, Max Yang gasped. "What—what is that sound?"
I heard it too. Distant but growing closer. Screams. Car crashes. The wail of emergency sirens.
"It's starting," I said calmly.
Through my Death Aura, I felt it all. The hospital near downtown where Mrs. Rodriguez had gone—chaos as patients turned and attacked staff. My apartment building—Mr. Watson's son had just died, would rise in moments. The shopping center. The office buildings. The residential complexes.
Death, everywhere.
And rising from that death, my future army.
I smiled in the darkness.
"Welcome," I whispered, "to the new world."