Ethan clutched the paper bag, knuckles bleaching white.
His eyes locked onto the factory entrance—empty.
A glance at his watch.
11:02.
Seconds bled away.
No Chen.
Did he miss the signal? Was I too subtle?
The cooldown ticked over. Finished.
ACTIVATE: Eyes of the Doomed!
"Play human. Keep that fake monster smile plastered on. Survive this apocalypse game."
A man's voice pierced the dark—high-pitched, thick with breath.
Fat guy? Ethan's instant thought.
With the Eyes, sound always came first. Then sight.
The vision solidified:
A chubby figure clutched spicy sticks, munching.
"...But you two blew your cover at the market..." He mumbled, grease shining on his forehead. "...Stuck now. My basement's built for Catastrophe-Class zombies. Years of supplies. Hole up 'til this blows over."
He shook his head, crumbs flying.
"Brave? Or cursed? Two humans buying fish? Surrounded by green-haired freaks!"
Two? Ethan's mind stuttered.
His future self turned—sensing the question.
Beside him stood a woman:
Mid-twenties
Fresh out of college
Stunning
Chen?
Recognition flickered. Do I know her? Or just that viral campus meme?
"So… what now?" Chen's voice tightened with fear.
"Stay here." The chubby guy's tone flattened. "You're flagged. Nowhere safe."
He pushed past them into the bathroom.
SLAM!
His palm hit a specific spot on the toilet tank.
Creeeak—!
The bowl split clean down the middle.
A dark passage gaped below.
"Ta-da!" He leaned on the cistern, radiating smug pride. "Secret enough?"
Future Ethan and Chen exchanged a glance, mouths twitching.
This... as an entrance?
"Relax! Tens of millions spent. Fort Knox down there." He thumped his chest. "Anything short of Extinction-Level? We ride it out. FOLLOW."
The tunnel plunged deep, metal walls echoing footsteps.
Minutes stretched into descent.
"Eight security layers!" His voice boomed. "Any monster comes down? TOAST!"
Ethan saw the proof:
Blades jutted from walls
Heavy firearms recessed in alloys
Seamless, vibration-dampened plating
Yet the watching Ethan felt no comfort—only ice in his veins.
Because...
This.
Is.
DEATH REPLAY!
Safety bragged... and they died?
The playback rolled. Future Ethan, Chen, and the chubby guy emerged into...
An arcade.
Machines blinked under harsh lights:
Fighters
Racers
Shooters
Rhythm Games
Simulators
Hoops
A claw machine huddled in the back.
"Make yourselves at home." The chubby guy waved dismissively toward a Pantry door.
He emerged with armfuls of snacks. "No internet. Tons of offline games. Junk food central. Cooking?" He snorted. "Not my thing."
Game sounds erupted as he flopped before a computer.
Future Ethan and Chen hovered, tension coiling.
He sighed. "Seriously. CHILL! Paranoid? Monitoring room's there. See for yourselves—no green-hairs getting in."
"I'll watch." Chen darted to the door.
"I'll join." Future Ethan followed.
Ethan's perspective warped into a dim room.
Wallpapered with flickering monitors.
Fu Yang Villas.
Center of Jiangcheng.
He remembered the ads from school days.
Cameras zeroed on Villa Number 5.
His place.
Ethan's blood froze.
Dozens of humans moved in synced steps toward the villa—
Their faces identical. Grotesque. Smiling.
Figures poured from neighboring villas, joining the silent march.
"WANG!" Future Ethan's shout cut through arcade noise.
"Whaaat?" Digital gunfire paused.
"HERE. NOW!"
Grumbling, the chubby guy waddled in.
"Holy SHIT!" He choked on a chip, eyes bulging. "Where'd they ALL come from?!"
"What do we DO?" Chen's voice thinned to a wire.
Panic flashed across Wang's face—then hardened into forced calm.
"Bunker's impenetrable. RELAX! Watch."
He grabbed chips, sinking into a chair with glued-on confidence.
The false bravado steadied Chen and Future Ethan.
But the watching Ethan knew.
His phantom heart hammered against ribs.
"They're entering the villa!" Future Ethan rasped.
On screen, the smiling humans—green-haired monsters in skin-suits—filed calmly through Villa 5's front door.
One.
By.
One.