Nearly twenty years ago, the world started to end. Yes, not ended but started to end.
The first sign had been the sudden shift in the stars. Even though astronomers could still locate the sun, moon, and other planets, the rest of the night sky became unrecognizable. Still, only a few ordinary people noticed this. What they and the government noticed immediately was the loss of the satellites as most forms of communications, including the internet, came crashing down.
Martial law had been implemented. A lot of people panicked, but mostly because of the downed internet. Still, everyone thought it would get better. It did not.
Crops began to wilt without reason, causing a severe food crisis for the whole world. Then, patches of wasteland appeared all over the world, slowly growing over time.
Anarchy descended despite the governments' best efforts.
It was a time of confusion and uncertainty. Since money became useless, humanity returned to the bartering system–that is, if they had the luxury. The strong stole from the weak, and only those at the same level had the right to trade.
No one could survey the world as before. Hell, they completely lost all cross-continental communication. It was as if the world had returned to the dark ages. Warlords rose and carved out territories in their bid for dominance once more. Even as people fought for what little resources remained, the wasteland still expanded, forcing them to migrate.
In less than twenty years, over ninety percent of humanity had died. The remaining survivors were huddled in oases, the last bastion of life. Still, that did not mean they were guaranteed to survive, only that they had a chance at survival.
Kuming was one of the lucky few. The apocalypse had started when he was less than five. Where his parents died, he survived. In fact, everyone he knew in the last twenty years had died except him. People might call him cursed, but stories like his were one of many.
He could no longer remember how old he was, only that he was around twenty-five. With sallow skin, sunken eyes, and only skin on bones, Kuming would have looked like the saddest beggar before the apocalypse. Now, he just looked plain and ordinary. He forgot many things, but one thing he did not forget was his will to survive.
In the shack he built from rotting wood and plastic, Kuming kneeled in front of a broken totem.
When the apocalypse started, many people called it the end of times and started praying for salvation, but no gods answered their calls. They were the first to die. Now, no one had the energy to believe in higher powers.
It was by chance that Kuming had discovered the totem. Objects that couldn't be used as protection or food were worthless, but he still picked it up. He had nothing left, no food, no family, only his lonesome.
To survive, people like him had to leave the safety of the city walls to search for food and resources. They couldn't farm the land around the cities because monsters had appeared and would hunt them. As if the world didn't hate them enough. The risk of every foraging mission was incredibly high—more people left than they returned.
Unless you were one of the warlords that lived in the city's center, you had to go out and forage, or you would be kicked out. Not only that, foragers would have to offer a portion of their findings to the city, or the city would kick them out. If they didn't find anything, they would be locked out.
Residents could stay in the city as long as they wanted, but few had jobs within the city. Most could only go out and forage for food and resources after what they found on their last outing disappeared.
Kuming knew that he would likely die the next time he left. That's why he prayed. On a subconscious level, he knew it wouldn't work, but he could do nothing else but hope.
"Supreme Grandmaster of Heaven, please bequeath to me a fraction of your divine might so that I can return safely from tomorrow’s foraging."
The totem only had the barest resemblance to a human. In fact, Kuming didn't know if the statue was of the Grandmaster of Heaven or not, but that was the highest god he remembered his parents praying to before the apocalypse started.
Laying in front of the totem was a yellowy tooth fresh with blood, his tooth. Kuming couldn't remember clearly, but he remembered his parents saying that if he offered his tooth, a fairy would give him something. He didn't know if gods wanted teeth, but it was the only thing he could offer. He literally had nothing left.
When nothing happened, Kuming still felt a sense of disappointment despite knowing that the chances of something happening were infinitely close to zero. He collapsed on the cold dirt floor next to the totem. The shack consisted of only one room and had one entrance in and out.
Kuming's eyes fluttered as he drifted off into unconsciousness, having already learned to ignore the pang of hunger in his stomach.
Kuming dreamed of blue skies and verdant lands. He had almost forgotten what such a paradisiacal scene looked like. Kuming just wanted to stay there forever and not wake up, but his gaze involuntarily shifted.
High in the sky above floated an island, like something out of a fantasy. He knew it was a dream, but everything seemed so real. His body lost all sense of weight as his body flew towards the island. Once he arrived, he saw a celestial palace.
The palace doors opened, and a figure standing in front of a throne drew Kuming's gaze. She had her back toward him, but he could still see her ink-black hair and lustrous white skin, further highlighted by her vivid red dress. Even without seeing her face, the only word Kuming could use to describe her was goddess.
Then, she turned around. Her face was cloaked in a haze, and the only feature Kuming could discern was her eyes. Her silver iris flashed with golden sparks. Then her form shifted. Gone was her vivid red dress, and in its place was a pure white figure. He still couldn't see her face, covered in a shawl from head to toe.
Before Kuming realized it, he had appeared inside the palace. The white figure slowly walked toward Kuming, and a hand moved out from her shawl. His heart rate sped up as the pure-white finger moved toward him. He felt something soft touch the spot between his brows.
It was only at this moment that Kuming realized that the shawl covering the woman was her wings. They unfurled and straightened on either side of her head, making her appear like a butterfly goddess.
"Praise my name, and you shall receive my blessing."
Kuming awoke with a gasp. When he realized what had happened, disappointment hit him like a sack of bricks. He shook his head in dismay and covered his gurgling stomach.
The sky had already started to brighten, and it would soon be time to leave. If Kuming didn't arrive at the gate soon, everyone would leave without him, and then, he could only go alone.
Kuming sighed and left. If he had glanced at the totem, he would have seen that the totem had changed. Instead of its former torn appearance, it had become white like marble. Its shape had also changed to resemble the butterfly goddess Kuming had seen in his dream.
When he arrived, Kuming saw other people like him gathering around. Most were dressed in rags like him, but the better-dressed ones had weapons hanging on their side. With how far society had regressed, bullets could no longer be produced. Guns had become a sign of status and power. The weapons these people had were machetes or bats. Likewise, many people surrounded them.
Kuming looked away; he had long learned that envy was useless. These people only had weapons because they were the warlord's subordinates. If he tried to steal from them, he would only die faster.
Instead, he gravitated toward people like himself: messy-haired, yellow-skinned, and only skin atop bones. Each one had a desperate look in their eyes. None of them said a word. Everyone knew that they only traveled for safety and not in the traditional sense. If they encountered a monster, it would be every man for themselves. They only traveled together in the hopes that the monster would attack someone else instead of them. Kuming was the same.
Not long later, the gate macgyvered out of a combination of metal, cement, and wood creaked opened. The first to leave were naturally those led by the weapon wielders, and the last to leave were groups like Kuming's.
Outside, plains of half-yellowed grass greeted Kuming. Toward his right was a forest. All the trees appeared half dead like the grass, and the chances of them bearing fruit were abysmal. Toward the left, poking out of the distance, was a cement forest, the remnants of human civilization. Even after twenty years had passed, they had a higher chance of finding a ration in the abandoned city. The only problem was that it was located out of the oasis and in the wasteland, making for a longer journey. The longer journey meant a higher chance of encountering a monster.
They would die if they didn't find food, so Kuming's group all traveled toward the city. It seems that their luck was pretty good as they didn't encounter any monsters even as the grass disappeared, replaced by a crack-filled asphalt that cooked the soles of their feet. Still, no one complained as they trumped on as if numbed to all pain.
The situation took a turn for the better as they entered the city. The buildings and skyscrapers blocked the sun, offering a minor relief to their calloused feet.
Kuming searched the city, looking for a relatively intact building. Every building he had come across had cracks and shattered windows or doorways. Some damage came from years of neglect, but most came from foragers like him pillaging them.
He passed a dilapidated jewelry shop. Most of the jewelry remained since no one cared for them after the apocalypse. Still, its windowed walls had also been shattered by previous foragers. The chances of finding any rations were unlikely, but Kuming still walked in.
The glass shards pierced his callouses, but Kuming didn't care. He searched through all the rooms, and just as he was about to give up, he slipped. He steadied himself against the wall.
Kuming paused. After he regained his balance, he knocked on the wall again. His eyes lit up, and he searched for any mechanisms on the wall. When he found none, disappointment filled him again. However, he wasn't willing to give up.
He left the jewelry shop and called for some of his group members. After explaining the possibility of what he found, all of them rushed into the room. Each one picked up a heavy object and either threw it or slammed it against the wall. This was the reason why Kuming didn't do it himself, the sound would have attracted their attention anyways.
It took hours, but they finally broke down the door, and paradise greeted them. On one half was a wall lined with dark metal boxes, but it was what was on the other half that attracted their attention.
Rows upon rows of canned goods filled it. Kuming didn't know why a jewelry shop would have so many supplies, but he didn't care. He, along with the others, rushed and grabbed the cans. They didn't look for a can opener and directly smashed them onto the ground to open them if they didn't have tabs.
Kuming was among the luckier ones as he used his dirty nails to pull the lid off and drank the contents. It wasn't a very pleasant flavor by any stretch, being bitter and sour, but it was the most heavenly thing he had tasted in years. Only after indulging in two more cans did he feel full.
He counted his lucky stars that there was so much food. Otherwise, a fight might have broken out and resulted in a few deaths before even encountering a monster.
With his belly filled, he and the other stuffed people searched for supplies. Safes were useless since they couldn't open them, and lugging them back to the city was too difficult. One of the people shouted in surprise, and Kuming looked over. He saw someone pulling out an electric generator.
To people like them, food might be more crucial, but to the warlord, electric generators were definitely more important. If they brought it back, they would get rewarded!
Kuming shared a glance with everyone. Their unity had never been stronger. Like a well-oiled machine, each member accomplished their duty. They found heavy-duty bags and filled them with as many cans as they could carry. Then, they started to travel back, making sure to have someone in front to avoid encountering another group. It was made easier by the fact that the generator was on wheels.
Hours later, the group hid in a building. Day had started to transform into night, and they didn't have any light source aside from the moon. Rather than risk encountering a monster they couldn't fight, they spent the night and waited for morning.
Kuming laid there in contentment. Before he drifted off, he recalled the dream he had.
"Praise my name, and you shall receive my blessing."
"Praise the Grandmaster of Heaven," Kuming muttered as he fell asleep.
Kuming had returned to the palace he had previously dreamed of. Sitting on the throne was the butterfly goddess. She looked down at him and waved her hand.
A saber appeared in front of him. It was as thin as an insect's wing—so thin that light pierced through it, causing it to shimmer. Kuming was entranced, and his hand unconsciously grabbed onto the silver handle.
Kuming awoke to a scream. Despite it being in the dead of the night with little moonlight filtering into the building, he could see everything. He wished he hadn't.
A monster with a bear's body, a wolf's head, and an elk's horns had snuck in while everyone was asleep. His dark claws dripped with blood. Threecorpses lay on the ground, separated into chunks.
The monster roared, causing everyone to scream in panic and run in every direction. Kuming also ran. He didn't know why he could see so clearly, but he identified the closest exit and ran toward it. However, the monster had locked onto him.
Kuming grunted in pain as a massive body knocked him to the ground. He rolled several times until he landed on his back. He didn't have the chance to run as the monster was already atop of him. Feeling the grim reaper's presence, Kuming struggled and waved his arms.
His eyes widened as the monster split in two, its blood pelting his face like a waterfall. But he didn’t care. No, all his attention was focused on the object in his hand. Grasped in his hand was the beautiful saber from his dreams, its translucent blade unmarred by the monster's blood.
Kuming pushed himself up, and only then did he notice the changes. His height had increased by a few centimeters. His skin had turned a healthy tan. His hair was no longer dry and straw-like. Most importantly of all, he could see and feel his lean physique, as if he had transformed into another person.
Disbelief filled his face before a smile found its way onto his lips. "Praised be the Grandmaster of Heaven, the supreme existence of all."
Nearly twenty years ago, the world started to end. Yes, not ended but started to end.
The first sign had been the sudden shift in the stars. Even though astronomers could still locate the sun, moon, and other planets, the rest of the night sky became unrecognizable. Still, only a few ordinary people noticed this. What they and the government noticed immediately was the loss of the satellites as most forms of communications, including the internet, came crashing down.
Martial law had been implemented. A lot of people panicked, but mostly because of the downed internet. Still, everyone thought it would get better. It did not.
Crops began to wilt without reason, causing a severe food crisis for the whole world. Then, patches of wasteland appeared all over the world, slowly growing over time.
Anarchy descended despite the governments' best efforts.
It was a time of confusion and uncertainty. Since money became useless, humanity returned to the bartering system–that is, if they had the luxury. The strong stole from the weak, and only those at the same level had the right to trade.
No one could survey the world as before. Hell, they completely lost all cross-continental communication. It was as if the world had returned to the dark ages. Warlords rose and carved out territories in their bid for dominance once more. Even as people fought for what little resources remained, the wasteland still expanded, forcing them to migrate.
In less than twenty years, over ninety percent of humanity had died. The remaining survivors were huddled in oases, the last bastion of life. Still, that did not mean they were guaranteed to survive, only that they had a chance at survival.
Kuming was one of the lucky few. The apocalypse had started when he was less than five. Where his parents died, he survived. In fact, everyone he knew in the last twenty years had died except him. People might call him cursed, but stories like his were one of many.
He could no longer remember how old he was, only that he was around twenty-five. With sallow skin, sunken eyes, and only skin on bones, Kuming would have looked like the saddest beggar before the apocalypse. Now, he just looked plain and ordinary. He forgot many things, but one thing he did not forget was his will to survive.
In the shack he built from rotting wood and plastic, Kuming kneeled in front of a broken totem.
When the apocalypse started, many people called it the end of times and started praying for salvation, but no gods answered their calls. They were the first to die. Now, no one had the energy to believe in higher powers.
It was by chance that Kuming had discovered the totem. Objects that couldn't be used as protection or food were worthless, but he still picked it up. He had nothing left, no food, no family, only his lonesome.
To survive, people like him had to leave the safety of the city walls to search for food and resources. They couldn't farm the land around the cities because monsters had appeared and would hunt them. As if the world didn't hate them enough. The risk of every foraging mission was incredibly high—more people left than they returned.
Unless you were one of the warlords that lived in the city's center, you had to go out and forage, or you would be kicked out. Not only that, foragers would have to offer a portion of their findings to the city, or the city would kick them out. If they didn't find anything, they would be locked out.
Residents could stay in the city as long as they wanted, but few had jobs within the city. Most could only go out and forage for food and resources after what they found on their last outing disappeared.
Kuming knew that he would likely die the next time he left. That's why he prayed. On a subconscious level, he knew it wouldn't work, but he could do nothing else but hope.
"Supreme Grandmaster of Heaven, please bequeath to me a fraction of your divine might so that I can return safely from tomorrow’s foraging."
The totem only had the barest resemblance to a human. In fact, Kuming didn't know if the statue was of the Grandmaster of Heaven or not, but that was the highest god he remembered his parents praying to before the apocalypse started.
Laying in front of the totem was a yellowy tooth fresh with blood, his tooth. Kuming couldn't remember clearly, but he remembered his parents saying that if he offered his tooth, a fairy would give him something. He didn't know if gods wanted teeth, but it was the only thing he could offer. He literally had nothing left.
When nothing happened, Kuming still felt a sense of disappointment despite knowing that the chances of something happening were infinitely close to zero. He collapsed on the cold dirt floor next to the totem. The shack consisted of only one room and had one entrance in and out.
Kuming's eyes fluttered as he drifted off into unconsciousness, having already learned to ignore the pang of hunger in his stomach.
Kuming dreamed of blue skies and verdant lands. He had almost forgotten what such a paradisiacal scene looked like. Kuming just wanted to stay there forever and not wake up, but his gaze involuntarily shifted.
High in the sky above floated an island, like something out of a fantasy. He knew it was a dream, but everything seemed so real. His body lost all sense of weight as his body flew towards the island. Once he arrived, he saw a celestial palace.
The palace doors opened, and a figure standing in front of a throne drew Kuming's gaze. She had her back toward him, but he could still see her ink-black hair and lustrous white skin, further highlighted by her vivid red dress. Even without seeing her face, the only word Kuming could use to describe her was goddess.
Then, she turned around. Her face was cloaked in a haze, and the only feature Kuming could discern was her eyes. Her silver iris flashed with golden sparks. Then her form shifted. Gone was her vivid red dress, and in its place was a pure white figure. He still couldn't see her face, covered in a shawl from head to toe.
Before Kuming realized it, he had appeared inside the palace. The white figure slowly walked toward Kuming, and a hand moved out from her shawl. His heart rate sped up as the pure-white finger moved toward him. He felt something soft touch the spot between his brows.
It was only at this moment that Kuming realized that the shawl covering the woman was her wings. They unfurled and straightened on either side of her head, making her appear like a butterfly goddess.
"Praise my name, and you shall receive my blessing."
Kuming awoke with a gasp. When he realized what had happened, disappointment hit him like a sack of bricks. He shook his head in dismay and covered his gurgling stomach.
The sky had already started to brighten, and it would soon be time to leave. If Kuming didn't arrive at the gate soon, everyone would leave without him, and then, he could only go alone.
Kuming sighed and left. If he had glanced at the totem, he would have seen that the totem had changed. Instead of its former torn appearance, it had become white like marble. Its shape had also changed to resemble the butterfly goddess Kuming had seen in his dream.
When he arrived, Kuming saw other people like him gathering around. Most were dressed in rags like him, but the better-dressed ones had weapons hanging on their side. With how far society had regressed, bullets could no longer be produced. Guns had become a sign of status and power. The weapons these people had were machetes or bats. Likewise, many people surrounded them.
Kuming looked away; he had long learned that envy was useless. These people only had weapons because they were the warlord's subordinates. If he tried to steal from them, he would only die faster.
Instead, he gravitated toward people like himself: messy-haired, yellow-skinned, and only skin atop bones. Each one had a desperate look in their eyes. None of them said a word. Everyone knew that they only traveled for safety and not in the traditional sense. If they encountered a monster, it would be every man for themselves. They only traveled together in the hopes that the monster would attack someone else instead of them. Kuming was the same.
Not long later, the gate macgyvered out of a combination of metal, cement, and wood creaked opened. The first to leave were naturally those led by the weapon wielders, and the last to leave were groups like Kuming's.
Outside, plains of half-yellowed grass greeted Kuming. Toward his right was a forest. All the trees appeared half dead like the grass, and the chances of them bearing fruit were abysmal. Toward the left, poking out of the distance, was a cement forest, the remnants of human civilization. Even after twenty years had passed, they had a higher chance of finding a ration in the abandoned city. The only problem was that it was located out of the oasis and in the wasteland, making for a longer journey. The longer journey meant a higher chance of encountering a monster.
They would die if they didn't find food, so Kuming's group all traveled toward the city. It seems that their luck was pretty good as they didn't encounter any monsters even as the grass disappeared, replaced by a crack-filled asphalt that cooked the soles of their feet. Still, no one complained as they trumped on as if numbed to all pain.
The situation took a turn for the better as they entered the city. The buildings and skyscrapers blocked the sun, offering a minor relief to their calloused feet.
Kuming searched the city, looking for a relatively intact building. Every building he had come across had cracks and shattered windows or doorways. Some damage came from years of neglect, but most came from foragers like him pillaging them.
He passed a dilapidated jewelry shop. Most of the jewelry remained since no one cared for them after the apocalypse. Still, its windowed walls had also been shattered by previous foragers. The chances of finding any rations were unlikely, but Kuming still walked in.
The glass shards pierced his callouses, but Kuming didn't care. He searched through all the rooms, and just as he was about to give up, he slipped. He steadied himself against the wall.
Kuming paused. After he regained his balance, he knocked on the wall again. His eyes lit up, and he searched for any mechanisms on the wall. When he found none, disappointment filled him again. However, he wasn't willing to give up.
He left the jewelry shop and called for some of his group members. After explaining the possibility of what he found, all of them rushed into the room. Each one picked up a heavy object and either threw it or slammed it against the wall. This was the reason why Kuming didn't do it himself, the sound would have attracted their attention anyways.
It took hours, but they finally broke down the door, and paradise greeted them. On one half was a wall lined with dark metal boxes, but it was what was on the other half that attracted their attention.
Rows upon rows of canned goods filled it. Kuming didn't know why a jewelry shop would have so many supplies, but he didn't care. He, along with the others, rushed and grabbed the cans. They didn't look for a can opener and directly smashed them onto the ground to open them if they didn't have tabs.
Kuming was among the luckier ones as he used his dirty nails to pull the lid off and drank the contents. It wasn't a very pleasant flavor by any stretch, being bitter and sour, but it was the most heavenly thing he had tasted in years. Only after indulging in two more cans did he feel full.
He counted his lucky stars that there was so much food. Otherwise, a fight might have broken out and resulted in a few deaths before even encountering a monster.
With his belly filled, he and the other stuffed people searched for supplies. Safes were useless since they couldn't open them, and lugging them back to the city was too difficult. One of the people shouted in surprise, and Kuming looked over. He saw someone pulling out an electric generator.
To people like them, food might be more crucial, but to the warlord, electric generators were definitely more important. If they brought it back, they would get rewarded!
Kuming shared a glance with everyone. Their unity had never been stronger. Like a well-oiled machine, each member accomplished their duty. They found heavy-duty bags and filled them with as many cans as they could carry. Then, they started to travel back, making sure to have someone in front to avoid encountering another group. It was made easier by the fact that the generator was on wheels.
Hours later, the group hid in a building. Day had started to transform into night, and they didn't have any light source aside from the moon. Rather than risk encountering a monster they couldn't fight, they spent the night and waited for morning.
Kuming laid there in contentment. Before he drifted off, he recalled the dream he had.
"Praise my name, and you shall receive my blessing."
"Praise the Grandmaster of Heaven," Kuming muttered as he fell asleep.
Kuming had returned to the palace he had previously dreamed of. Sitting on the throne was the butterfly goddess. She looked down at him and waved her hand.
A saber appeared in front of him. It was as thin as an insect's wing—so thin that light pierced through it, causing it to shimmer. Kuming was entranced, and his hand unconsciously grabbed onto the silver handle.
Kuming awoke to a scream. Despite it being in the dead of the night with little moonlight filtering into the building, he could see everything. He wished he hadn't.
A monster with a bear's body, a wolf's head, and an elk's horns had snuck in while everyone was asleep. His dark claws dripped with blood. Threecorpses lay on the ground, separated into chunks.
The monster roared, causing everyone to scream in panic and run in every direction. Kuming also ran. He didn't know why he could see so clearly, but he identified the closest exit and ran toward it. However, the monster had locked onto him.
Kuming grunted in pain as a massive body knocked him to the ground. He rolled several times until he landed on his back. He didn't have the chance to run as the monster was already atop of him. Feeling the grim reaper's presence, Kuming struggled and waved his arms.
His eyes widened as the monster split in two, its blood pelting his face like a waterfall. But he didn’t care. No, all his attention was focused on the object in his hand. Grasped in his hand was the beautiful saber from his dreams, its translucent blade unmarred by the monster's blood.
Kuming pushed himself up, and only then did he notice the changes. His height had increased by a few centimeters. His skin had turned a healthy tan. His hair was no longer dry and straw-like. Most importantly of all, he could see and feel his lean physique, as if he had transformed into another person.
Disbelief filled his face before a smile found its way onto his lips. "Praised be the Grandmaster of Heaven, the supreme existence of all."
