Apocalypse: Rise of the Last Survivor
Chapter 1: Rewind to Vengeance
Kael Draven's blood soaked the cracked asphalt, his vision blurring as the Covenant Guild's blades gleamed under a shattered moon. Lara's sneer burned into him, her dagger still buried in his gut. Marcus loomed behind her, his broad shoulders blocking the stars, while Vren's cold eyes watched, unflinching. "You were always expendable," Lara said, twisting the blade. Kael's life had been a fight—against monsters, rifts, the apocalypse itself—but he never saw this coming. His so-called allies, the people he'd bled for, had turned on him. As his heart stuttered, a voice cut through the haze, mechanical and sharp: System Error. Chronoshift Protocol Activated. Reset Initiated.
Darkness swallowed him.
Then—light. Kael jolted upright, gasping, his hands clawing at his chest. No wounds. No blood. Just sweat-soaked sheets and the hum of a cheap fan in his rundown apartment. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen glowing: July 22, 2025. 11:47 p.m. His breath caught. One day before the world ended. One day before the rifts tore Earth apart, before the System awakened, before the Covenant betrayed him. He wasn't dead. He was reborn.
The voice returned, cold and precise: Chronoshift System Online. User: Kael Draven. Primary Objective: Survive. Secondary Objective: Alter Fate. Time Remaining Until Apocalypse: 23 hours, 13 minutes. A flood of memories—his Future Codex—surged into his mind: rifts opening, cities burning, monsters clawing through, and the Covenant's knives in his back. Every mistake, every death, every betrayal was etched into him. This time, he'd rewrite it all. This time, he'd be the hunter.
Kael swung his legs off the bed, ignoring the ache in his joints. His 27-year-old body felt foreign—unscarred, untested—but his mind was a weapon, sharpened by a year of hell. He grabbed his old hunting knife from under the mattress, its blade chipped but familiar, and stuffed a backpack with essentials: water, protein bars, a flashlight, duct tape. His beat-up truck waited outside, keys on the counter. The Codex pulsed, feeding him data: First rift opens at 3:02 a.m., industrial district, Sector 7. Covenant scouts already mobilizing. Priority target: Weapons cache, 1.2 miles from rift site.
He didn't question it. The Codex was his edge, a mental archive of the apocalypse's first hours, monster weaknesses, and traitor moves. He'd use it to outmaneuver everyone. Kael pulled on a leather jacket, checked the knife's edge, and slipped out into the night. The city hummed, oblivious—people laughing in bars, cars honking, neon signs flickering. They had no idea what was coming. Kael did.
His first stop was a pawn shop on 14th Street, a grimy hole-in-the-wall run by a crook named Sal. The Codex flagged it: Illegal firearms stashed in backroom safe.
Code: 4-7-9-2. Kael parked his truck a block away, scanning for tails. The streets were too quiet, the air heavy with something he couldn't place. He pushed into the shop, bell jingling. Sal, a balding man with a cigarette dangling from his lips, looked up from a magazine. "We're closing, pal."
Kael didn't smile. "Your backroom stock. Guns. Ammo. Now." He slid a wad of cash—his entire savings—across the counter, plus a hundred extra for silence. Sal's eyes narrowed, but greed won. He led Kael to a locked door, punched in the code, and revealed a jackpot: two handguns, a shotgun, a tactical vest, and boxes of ammo. Kael loaded the vest, strapped a Glock to his hip, and slung the shotgun over his shoulder. "Keep the change," he said, already moving. Sal muttered something, but Kael was out the door, the Codex urging him forward: Time to rift: 2 hours, 41 minutes.
Next target: the warehouse district, a maze of abandoned factories where the System would drop its first loot cache. The Codex marked it as a goldmine—medkits, food, and rare System items for early survivors. Kael's truck roared through empty streets, his mind racing. The Covenant had beaten him to caches in his past life, leaving him to scrape by. Not this time. He'd claim it, arm up, and start hunting the bastards who'd gutted him.
He parked a block from the target warehouse, a crumbling brick relic with shattered windows. The Codex hummed: Cache located in central storage. Warning: Potential hostiles.
Kael gripped his knife, flashlight off to avoid detection, and slipped through a side door. The air inside was stale, thick with dust. Crates loomed in the dark, some glowing faintly with System runes. He pried one open: medkits, bottled water, a strange vial labeled Core Enhancer. He pocketed the vial, its purpose unclear but too valuable to leave. Another crate held a Kevlar-lined jacket—perfect. He swapped his leather one, the extra weight grounding him.
A scrape echoed from deeper in the warehouse. Kael froze, crouching behind a crate. His Codex flared: Intruder detected. Identity: Marcus Vren, Covenant Scout. Armed. Hostile. Kael's blood turned to fire. Marcus. The brute who'd held him down as Lara's dagger ripped through him. He was here, now, scavenging before the apocalypse even started. The Codex hadn't mentioned this in the original timeline. Had something changed already?
Kael peered around the crate. Marcus's silhouette moved in the shadows, a crowbar in one hand, a flashlight in the other. He was muttering, "...System's early. Boss wants this locked down." Kael's jaw clenched. "Boss" meant Lara. They were already moving, already cheating the game. Kael's Chronoshift pinged: Rewind Available. 5 seconds. Cost: 10% stamina. He ignored it. Rewinding was a last resort. He'd take Marcus down the old-fashioned way.
He crept closer, knife ready, using crates for cover. Marcus was oblivious, prying open a glowing crate, pulling out a System-etched dagger that pulsed red. Kael's Codex updated: Bloodfang Dagger. Enhances strength, drains user vitality. Marcus was arming up, but he wasn't leaving with it. Kael lunged, silent, aiming for Marcus's shoulder. The knife sank deep, pinning him to a crate. Marcus roared, dropping the dagger, his crowbar swinging wildly. Kael dodged, the metal grazing his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. He slammed his boot into Marcus's knee, dropping him.
"Who sent you?" Kael snarled, twisting the knife. Marcus spat blood, grinning despite the pain. "You're a dead man, Draven. Covenant's got plans. You're not in 'em." Kael's vision darkened. Plans. They'd targeted him from the start, even before the rifts. He yanked the knife free, ready to slit Marcus's throat, when the warehouse shook. A low hum vibrated the air, rattling crates. The Codex screamed: Rift Activation. Early. 42 seconds. Survival Odds: 21%.
Kael's stomach dropped. The rifts weren't supposed to open for hours. Something was wrong—his rebirth, his actions, had shifted the timeline. A crack split the ceiling, glowing purple, and a creature clawed through: black-scaled, six-eyed, with claws like scythes. A Rift Stalker, the Codex identified, Weakness: Eyes. Strength: Speed. Marcus scrambled back, cursing, as the beast's gaze locked on him. Kael grabbed the Core Enhancer vial, instincts screaming to use it. He smashed it on his knife, and blue energy surged through the blade, humming with power. Weapon Enhanced: +50% damage for 60 seconds.
The Stalker lunged at Marcus, who swung his crowbar uselessly. Kael didn't hesitate. He sprinted forward, slashing the beast's flank, blue sparks flying. It shrieked, whipping around, its claws raking Kael's new jacket. The Kevlar held, but the impact sent him skidding into a crate. Marcus screamed as the Stalker's claws tore into his leg, blood spraying. Kael could rewind, save him, get answers. But why?
Marcus was a traitor, a dead weight. Kael rolled, dodging another claw, and drove his glowing knife into the beast's left eye. It howled, thrashing, giving him a second to grab the Bloodfang Dagger Marcus had dropped.
The warehouse shook again. The Codex blared: Rift Instability. Second Wave Incoming. 15 seconds. Kael's eyes darted to the ceiling. Two more cracks formed, smaller but pulsing. More Stalkers. He glanced at Marcus, pinned under the first beast, still alive but bleeding out.
"Help me, Draven!" Marcus gasped. Kael ignored him, spotting a crate labeled Explosives: System-Grade. He tore it open, finding a single grenade, its surface etched with runes. The Codex flashed: Rift Grenade. Destroys minor rifts. Blast Radius: 20 meters.
No time to think. Kael yanked the pin, lobbed the grenade at the main rift, and sprinted for the exit. The explosion rocked the warehouse, a wave of heat and purple light erupting behind him. The first Stalker screeched, caught in the blast, but the other rifts spit out two more beasts, their eyes locking on Kael. He dove through the side door as the ceiling collapsed, rubble burying Marcus's screams. His truck was 50 yards away, engine still warm. The Stalkers burst through the debris, claws shredding concrete.
Kael's Chronoshift hummed: Rewind Available. 10 seconds. Cost: 15% stamina. He didn't have the stamina to spare, not with hunters on his tail. He slid into the truck, floored the gas, and tore into the night. The Codex updated: Rift Destroyed. XP Gained: 750. New Objective: Locate Safehouse. Warning: Covenant Tracking Signal Detected. Hunters Inbound.
His heart pounded. The Covenant was already after him, somehow aware he was alive. He gripped the wheel, the Bloodfang Dagger on the seat beside him, its red glow pulsing like a heartbeat. The Codex chimed again, a new entry unfolding: Lara Voss, Covenant Leader. Current Location: 1.8 miles northeast. Intent: Eliminate Kael Draven. Additional Data: Rift Activity Accelerating. Cause Unknown.
Kael's knuckles whitened. Lara was close, and the apocalypse was unraveling faster than his Codex predicted. He had 22 hours to outrun her, master Chronoshift, and carve a path through the chaos. A grim smile curved his lips. They'd betrayed him once, left him for dead. Now, he'd make them pay—starting with Lara.