Two years ago, the rains began.
At first, people joked about it online, "global shower update," "Mother Earth's detox phase," and other memes.
But when the first month passed and cities like Bangkok, Venice, and parts of Shanghai were fully underwater, the jokes stopped.
The skies refused to clear.
Some prepared better than others. The average family stocked food and medicine for a few months, just like the officials advised. The rich? They prepped for a year or more, fully stocked bunkers, filtration systems, even solar panels imported from Switzerland or Japan.
Governments around the world distributed rations once a week, just enough to keep people calm. Nations like China and India, and other such countries used to long-term emergency stockpiles, made it work… for a while.
But the rain never stopped.
----
Now, two years later, the world was unrecognizable.
No internet. No electricity, unless you generated it yourself. No contact with distant cities. Coastal regions had vanished beneath the rising tides. High-ground cities turned into fortresses, isolated and filled with paranoia.
And then came the system.
No one knew where it came from or how it started. Some said it descended from the skies, others claimed it rose from the flooded Earth. All anyone knew was that, one morning, a translucent screen appeared in front of every survivor's eyes.
[Welcome to F.L.O.O.D. v1.0 — Full-Level Open-Online Domain.]
Some laughed at it. A game interface? Really?
They stopped laughing when people started mutating. When beasts the size of trucks crawled out of collapsed metros. When a man tore another apart with his bare hands because the system gave him a Strength boost.
And when Rex Crowhurst drew his first gacha reward, he knew everything had changed.
----
The wind howled outside his sealed window, pushing sheets of rain against the reinforced glass. From the 51st floor of the luxury skyscraper in Horizon Enclave, the flooded world looked like an ocean with broken teeth. Submerged buildings jutted out like jagged fangs, and something… large… moved beneath the surface.
Rex sat in the middle of his living room, wrapped in a black thermal cloak, staring at the glowing screen hovering before him.
His fingers tapped the air.
[Daily Genesis Draw Available. Do you wish to proceed?]
[1 Random Reward. Rarity: Unlimited.]
He smirked.
"Let's roll the dice, then."
He tapped YES.
The screen spun like a wheel of fortune, blurs of glowing icons flashing by in a carousel of power, absurdity, and potential doom.
Then, with a final flicker:
[Congratulations, Player Rex Crowhurst. You have received: Thermal Sensor Drone x1 (Legendary).]
[Item automatically deployed to Inventory.]
Rex leaned back, whistling low. "Well, at least it's not another bottle of wine."
The last draw had given him aged Cabernet Sauvignon from 2041. Before that? A solar battery pack. Before that? An entire roasted boar that nearly made him cry when the aroma filled his apartment, and so on.
But this, a sensor drone, could be a game changer.
He stood, stretching his lean frame. His long black coat, more of a cloak now, fell around him like a shadow. The floor beneath his bare feet was warm, thanks to a salvaged heating coil he'd pulled from the building's maintenance room.
Outside, distant roars echoed. Something was hunting.
No, many things.
He activated the drone and tossed it lightly into the air. It hovered, silent and precise, then zipped to the ceiling where it projected a heatmap across one wall.
Rex narrowed his eyes.
Red and Orange. A swirl of moving signals.
"Three... no, four signatures... twelve floors below?" he muttered. "Not so human."
The drone beeped quietly, then highlighted a larger signal pulsing three blocks away. It was massive.
A new type of beast? Or something worse?
Rex didn't know. But he'd learned one thing the hard way:
Curiosity kills the underprepared.
----
He walked to the kitchenette, grabbed a piece of dried meat, and chewed it slowly. Salted, rubbery, but food was food.
Then a noise echoed in the silence.
Tap... Tap... Tap.
He paused mid-bite.
The sound repeated, faint and rhythmic.
Tap... Tap...Tap.
Coming from the steel-plated front door.
No one had knocked in weeks.
Most neighbors had either barricaded themselves completely or… well, were now just another red dot on someone else's sensor map.
Rex slipped the last bite of meat into his mouth and walked over to the door.
Another knock. This time softer.
"Who is it?" he asked coldly, without opening.
No reply came.
He activated the peephole camera. The figure outside was soaked, cloaked in a transparent raincoat that clung to her curves. She looked up, her lips trembling, eyes glassy but striking, sharp green, like broken jade.
Rex recognized her immediately.
Mina Volkova.
Formerly Unit 7-B, second penthouse on the same floor.
He hadn't seen her in nearly a month.
She leaned closer to the camera.
"Rex… it's me," she said, barely audible over the rain. "I haven't eaten in three days. Please… can I come in?"
Rex said nothing.
He tapped the console, magnifying her vitals. No fever. No sudden spikes. No heat distortion suggesting mutation.
But something was off.
Why now?
She was one of the few in Horizon Enclave who had awakened a system talent, he remembered her showing off some ability involving light manipulation. Flashbangs, decoys, visual illusions.
Useful. But not great in long-term survival.
"Where's your team?" he asked.
She hesitated. "Gone. They're all dead."
Rex frowned. That made it worse. Survivors didn't just "die" unless something out there decided they were worth hunting. Or unless they were betrayed.
Still… she wasn't lying. Her face was pale. Her breath shallow.
But this was no charity. Not anymore.
He keyed the mic again. "What will you trade for shelter?"
The rain pounded harder.
She didn't flinch. Instead, her lips parted in a ghost of a smile. "Anything you want."
His eyes narrowed.
Tempting. But too convenient.
He unlocked the first latch. The heavy mechanism clunked loudly.
Then he paused.
A blip flashed across the drone heatmap.
A new signature.
Behind her.
And it was moving fast.
His instincts screamed. "Get down!"
Mina's eyes widened, and she dropped just as the corridor behind her exploded in splinters.
Something lunged from the shadows, smashing against the reinforced door frame.
Rex saw it for a split second.
Gray skin, jaws split open like a blooming flower. Rows of translucent teeth. Two legs, four arms, and a human face embedded in its chest, still mouth wide open and screaming.
He slammed the door shut.
Boom!
The impact cracked the steel.
The drone screeched an alert. The entire hallway lit up in red as multiple heat signatures swarmed in like ants.
"Shit."
Rex turned, grabbing his crafted shockblade from the wall. He tapped the drone to activate combat mode. The interface flickered.
[Genesis Protocol Activated. Defense Measures Online.]
[Auto-Lock System Engaged. Fortified Perimeter: 30 seconds until breach.]
He looked toward the door—and knew he had less than that.
Mina's voice came through, trembling.
"Rex… please…"
His hand hovered over the emergency seal. If he let her in, he risked the creature forcing its way in too.
If he didn't… she'd die.
He stared at the door.
Five seconds left
Four
Three
Two –
[Warning: External Barrier Integrity at 12%. Breach imminent.]
[Choose: Engage or Evacuate?]
He had to decide.
Now.