Apocalyptic: My Killing System Is Too Overpowered!

Elias Carter stood frozen in the middle of the empty street, the newspaper shaking in his grip. The headline screamed at him, its bold letters stark against the yellowed page:

"MASS EVACUATION: WHERE DID THEY GO?

The article underneath was left half-written, as if the author had been torn away in the middle of a sentence. He allowed the paper to slide out of his hands, see how the wind would carry it down the abandoned road.

His chest rose and fell in short, jagged breaths. The hospital was empty. The city was empty.Perhaps the world, too. But why was he still here?

And then, it bit into him enough to make him force himself into motion. He called out every few minutes, his voice ringing off the giant skyscrapers.

"Hello? Anybody?"

No answer, just the soft whisper of the wind through desolate alleys and the muted hum of the traffic lights as they blinked their colors for no one.

He checked his phone again. No service. No Wi-Fi.The world just was cut off from itself. But the power, though-the lights flickered. Neon lights hummed on and off inside the storefronts; machines hummed. Just.no people.

Something was wrong.

As he walked, the city came into detail. Mannequins stared vacantly through cracked glass, halted in mid-pose, in stores that no longer had customers. A bicycle lay on its side in the middle of the road. Its wheels weren't turning. Coffee cups sat on outdoor tables, half-full, long since gone cold.

It was the silence that was worst. No car horns. No voices. Not even birds.

Then, before him, he saw it-a police station. If anyone had answers, it would be there.

He broke into a jog, pushing through the glass doors and stepping inside. The air was still, thick with dust. The front desk was unmanned. The chairs unused. A pot of coffee sat on the counter, long cold.

Elias worked his way deeper into the building, his eyes scanning for anything alive. Then he saw it .

A bulletin board, covered in missing persons .

Hundreds of them.

Every one dated March 14, 2047—yesterday.

His stomach twisted. It wasn't just a few people who vanished. It was everyone.

The deeper he walked into the station, the more unsettling it became. Desks were abandoned mid-task, computers left on, their screens blinking idly. Someone had been here recently. Very recently.

Then he saw the notepad.

A single sheet of paper on a desk, a pen resting beside it. The last thing written:

"It's happening. They're coming."

A sound broke the silence.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Elias froze. His heart pounded in his ears as he realized that the noise came from deeper in the station. Slow. Rhythmic. Deliberate.

Not the wind.

He reached for the nearest weapon-a police baton-and clutched it tightly. With caution, step by step, he moved towards the noise, his breathing shallow. The hallway lights flickered, casting long, shifting shadows on walls.

The tapping sound grew louder. Louder.

Then he saw it.

A radio on a desk, its speaker crackling with static. Through the white noise, a voice broke through, warped and fragmented:

"You're… not alone… get out… now."

Elias staggered back, his grip tightening on the baton. The message repeated, words distorted but unmistakable.

Someone else was out there.

And they were trying to warn him.

He scanned the desk for clues. A map of the city lay spread out, red circles drawn around three key locations—the hospital where he had woken up, the police station, and a radio tower on the outskirts of town.

A handwritten note beside it read:

"Last transmission—Tower. Find signal."

His heartbeat quickened. If there was still a signal, maybe someone was alive there.

He got up, retrieved a flashlight from one of the drawers, and left the room. The city out there felt quite different tonight- heavier, somehow, holding its breath.

The streets were unsettlingly still as he made his way to the radio tower. Every now and then, he passed something that gave him a scare-a bus abandoned in the middle of an intersection, its doors flung open, luggage and personal belongings scattered as if its passengers had vanished mid-step

He climbed inside, scanning his eyes across the eerie stillness.

A crossword puzzle lay across a seat, half-finished. A cup of coffee was in its holder, still full. A child's teddy bear lay next to the driver's seat.

They had left in a hurry.

Or… they hadn't left at all.

Elias stepped off the bus, rubbing his temples. Focus.

The radio tower went high ahead, and its ironwork stretched upwards; the facility underneath it was illuminated, swinging the doors with every blowing wind, with power.

He went in cautiously. Inside, it had heavy dust and smelled of old electronic gadgets. A set of monitors lined on the sides, flashing with lights fading away, so he approached the head panel in search of what made any sense.

Then he saw it.

A message on the computer screen, blinking over and over:

"They hear you."

His blood ran cold.

A noise behind him.

Elias spun around, baton raised. A shadow flickered near the doorway—gone before he could react.

His heart pounded. Was someone there?

Then he heard it.

A whisper.

Soft. Almost too faint to hear.

"Leave."

Elias didn't need to be told twice. He snatched a small emergency radio from the desk and ran

Out of the building.

Down the empty streets.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he ducked into an alleyway, pressing himself against the cold brick wall. Hands shaking, he turned on the emergency radio, static filling the air.

Then-a voice

Clearer this time.

Stronger.

You need to hide. Now."

Elias's stomach dropped. He looked around, heart hammering.

This wasn't just a warning.

Whoever was speaking.

They knew he was being watched.