Reborn six months before the apocalypse, I discovered that I was the only survivor in the world who still remembered what was coming.
There were no System prompts, only one pure natural disaster after another looming on the horizon. I sold my company, stockpiled a hundred thousand tons of strategic supplies, and set up an independent power grid in a suburban warehouse.
When the first heat wave melted the city's power cables, the authorities were still discussing emergency plans, while my underground bunker stayed at a steady 25°C.
When torrential rains swallowed the continent, I mapped deep-sea mineral deposits from a submarine. During the deep freeze, I built an ecological farm beneath the ice.
Then I saw familiar clouds that heralded an earthquake appear on the news. I called the Disaster Prevention and Control Center on its encrypted line. “The virus season is next. I recommend immediately quarantining all deep-sea catches. Don't ask how I know.”
