Chapter 1: Game On

With the ding of a system prompt, I was slammed into the apocalypse game world. My hands tingled, knees weak—like I’d just stepped off a rollercoaster straight into a nightmare. Ozone hung sharp in the air, and I tasted cold metal at the back of my throat. Somewhere in that digital darkness, a notification pinged—way too cheerful for how tense everything felt.

The public chat was lit up, three hundred players logged in. It looked exactly like a Twitch stream during a huge game drop—usernames flashing by in neon, trash talk and nervous energy zipping through the air.

The system explained it straight: we were all already dead. If we wanted a shot at coming back, we’d have to survive this apocalypse game. No second chances.

System: [Time to choose your starter perk! First come, first served.]

I scanned the list, heart pounding. Most options were superpowers—exactly what everyone expected.

In the world chat, chaos reigned. Players raced to grab powers, and if you hesitated for a heartbeat, your pick was gone. Someone all-capped: “BACK OFF, I’M TAKING TELEPORTATION!”

The list for powers like lightning strike, wind blade, teleportation, and healing dropped fast. It was like a fantasy football draft crossed with Black Friday at Walmart—people ready to throw elbows for their shot.

You could almost see the countdown bars draining, another top-tier power gone every second. I kept scrolling, hunting for something—anything—no one else wanted.

There, on the last page: a gold coin labeled “infinite wealth.” It glowed with that Vegas slot machine gleam—flashy, a little too good to be true. Nobody noticed it in the frenzy.

I grabbed the coin without thinking twice. It felt heavy and warm in my palm—almost real. Maybe that whisper I heard was the promise of more, or just my own greedy hope bouncing around in my skull.

The people who landed with me were my old classmates from the bus accident. Chris Young, our class president, went straight for mind control. When he saw me holding the coin, he barked a laugh:

“Alex, seriously? You’re still chasing Benjamins when the world’s ending? Get real, man.”

Chris always had that edge—a homecoming king vibe, half mocking, half daring you to argue. Even in a digital hellscape, he acted like he owned the place.

Before I could clap back, he was already looking at Lindsay, the class heartthrob. She’d picked the power to obtain love.

We all stared, dumbfounded. Lindsay just winked, lips curled in a sly smile. “Love always wins, boys—and zombies are just another kind of heartbreaker.”

Someone behind me muttered, “She’s never gonna change.”

Lindsay could turn a death match into a flirting contest—her voice sweet, but with a dangerous spark. Boys gawked, girls rolled their eyes. End of the world, and some things never change.

Once everyone had claimed their perks, the system chimed in again:

[You have one year to train your superpowers and make preparations. The apocalypse will begin in one year.]

[Warning: There will only be one winner. Only the last surviving player will receive the reward.]

My gut twisted. No do-overs, no friends. Just one shot at coming back. Fear clawed at my chest, then melted into something sharp and cold—determination. I wasn’t going out like this.

A chill swept through the group—like the AC blasting in a Vegas casino at 2 a.m. The rules were simple, but they landed like a gut punch.

Faces went hard in an instant. Shoulders tensed, eyes darted. Even the smiles froze, replaced by wary, calculating stares.

A guy who’d been laughing with his buddy suddenly edged away, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The mood flipped—trust vanished, replaced by suspicion.

People who’d been talking about teaming up now looked at each other like rivals. It was high school drama, but with the threat of real death hanging over us.

In this game, there are no friends. Only enemies.

That truth settled on us like a wet blanket—heavy, smothering, and impossible to shake off.