The microwave beeped.
Once.
Twice.
A shrill, ordinary sound that had no business existing at the end of the world.
Liu Chen frowned as he reached for the handle, the smell of reheated rice faintly unpleasant. He had already overstayed his lunch break. If his supervisor caught him late again, there would be another lecture—another reminder that he was replaceable.
The timer still read 00:47 when the sound came.
Not from the microwave.
From everywhere.
A metallic chime rippled through the air, sharp and perfectly clear, as if reality itself had been struck with a tuning fork. Liu Chen froze mid-motion. The microwave went silent. The overhead lights flickered once, casting warped shadows along the kitchen walls.
Then they stabilized.
Too neatly.
Liu Chen straightened slowly. His apartment was still there. The countertop had a crack he kept meaning to fix. The window showed the same tired skyline of concrete buildings and dull afternoon sunlight.
Normal.
And yet—
The chime sounded again.
This time, it echoed inside his skull.
[GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT DETECTED]
Liu Chen staggered back, heart slamming against his ribs.
"What…?"
The voice had no gender. No emotion. It didn't speak through sound waves. It simply existed in his thoughts, absolute and unavoidable.
[WELCOME TO THE FINAL ERA]
Pain lanced through his temples. Liu Chen clenched his teeth, palms pressing against the kitchen counter until his knuckles whitened. His vision blurred.
Outside, a scream pierced the air.
High. Raw. Desperate.
Another scream followed. Then another.
Liu Chen forced his eyes open and rushed to the window.
The street below had erupted into chaos.
Cars sat frozen at odd angles, some smashed into light poles, others idling with doors flung open. People ran without direction, colliding with one another, tripping, scrambling back to their feet with animal panic etched across their faces.
A man collapsed mid-stride.
He hit the pavement and began convulsing violently, muscles bulging as if something was trying to tear its way out from beneath his skin. Blue light burned into the air above him—shimmering letters that twisted reality just enough to feel wrong.
[TRAIT AWAKENED — MUSCLE REINFORCEMENT (NORMAL)]
The man screamed.
His body expanded unnaturally, veins darkening as they spread like cracks through marble. He rose unsteadily, panting, confusion overtaking pain—
Then something leapt from the alley.
It moved low to the ground, fast, a blur of distorted limbs and snapping jaws.
It had once been a dog.
Liu Chen knew this because of the collar still hanging loosely around its neck.
Its body was swollen and asymmetrical, bones jutting at the wrong angles, eyes glowing with feral red light. It slammed into the newly awakened man, tearing into his shoulder with enough force to send blood spraying across the pavement.
The scream cut off.
Just like that.
Liu Chen swallowed.
This wasn't panic. Panic clouded judgment.
This was shock giving way to understanding.
The voice returned.
[CIVILIZATION SURVIVAL PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]
[ALL HUMANS WILL RECEIVE ONE TRAIT]
[SURVIVAL IS MANDATORY]
Mandatory.
Not encouraged. Not advised.
Mandatory.
Across the street, another blue message appeared. A woman clutched her head, gasping as translucent text bloomed before her eyes.
[TRAIT AWAKENED — NIGHT VISION (NORMAL)]
Before she could even orient herself, the mutated dog lunged again.
Her advantage didn't matter.
Her trait didn't save her.
It bit her throat out in a single violent motion.
Blood splattered across the concrete.
The system did not comment.
Liu Chen stepped back from the window.
His breathing slowed—not because the situation improved, but because he forced it to. Fear burned calories. Fear wasted time.
He'd never been strong.
He'd never been lucky.
But he had always been good at one thing.
Not panicking when others did.
The air in front of him shimmered.
[INITIATING PERSONAL AWAKENING]
Pain vanished in an instant.
So complete it felt unreal.
Then—
Silence.
The kind that pressed inward, like the world was holding its breath.
[UNIQUE SIGNATURE IDENTIFIED]
[ANOMALY DETECTED]
Liu Chen's eyes narrowed.
"…Anomaly?"
A wheel of light materialized in front of him.
It floated freely, circular and vast, etched with symbols that rearranged themselves faster than his eyes could track. Each segment radiated a different pressure—some faint, some overwhelming.
[APOCALYPSE LOTTERY SYSTEM INITIALIZING]
His heart skipped.
A system.
Not a trait.
Something more.
[FIRST DRAW — GUARANTEED HIGH VALUE]
The wheel began to spin.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
The pressure intensified. Liu Chen felt heat crawl along his spine, instinct screaming that whatever came next would define the rest of his life.
The wheel slowed.
Stopped.
The space around him distorted.
[FORBIDDEN TRAIT OBTAINED]
[ABSOLUTE ADAPTATION]
The words burned themselves into his vision.
Not blue.
Not gold.
Black.
The kind of black that swallowed light.
ABSOLUTE ADAPTATION (FORBIDDEN):
Rapidly adapts to any hostile environment, damage source, status effect, or ability encountered.
Adaptations become permanent.
Adaptation speed increases with repeated exposure.
No upper limit detected.
Liu Chen stared.
Then he laughed.
It escaped him before he could stop it—a short, breathless sound that surprised even himself.
"…No upper limit?"
Outside, something exploded. A storefront window shattered as a mutated figure slammed through the glass, howling.
Liu Chen's amusement faded, replaced by something colder.
Understanding.
This wasn't strength.
Not immediately.
This was potential—the most dangerous kind.
Absolute Adaptation meant he wouldn't be strong at the start.
It meant he would become strong inevitably, so long as he survived long enough.
The system chimed again.
[DAILY LOTTERY FUNCTIONS UNLOCKED]
[ADDITIONAL DRAWS OBTAINABLE VIA KILLS, SURVIVAL MILESTONES, AND REPUTATION]
Reputation.
So it tracked perception.
Interesting.
Liu Chen exhaled slowly.
"Alright," he muttered.
The rules were clear enough.
Go outside unprepared and die.
Hide forever and starve.
That left only one path.
Controlled exposure.
He turned, eyes scanning his apartment. Supplies were limited. Weapons nonexistent—
Until his gaze landed on the hallway.
Behind the glass emergency case hung a fire axe, its red paint chipped from years of neglect.
Liu Chen broke the glass with his elbow.
The alarm shrieked briefly—then died mid-note, as if the system had deemed it unnecessary.
He wrapped his fingers around the handle.
It fit better than he expected.
Another roar echoed from outside.
Something large.
Closer than before.
Liu Chen moved toward the door, stopping just long enough to glance back at the window.
The city was burning.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Smoke rose between buildings. Sirens wailed and then cut off one by one. Blue system notifications filled the air like dying fireflies.
This was no longer his world.
It belonged to the strong now.
[DAILY LOTTERY RESET IN: 23:59:59]
Liu Chen smiled faintly.
If survival was mandatory—
Then adaptation would be his answer.
He opened the door.
And stepped into the apocalypse.