The city was too quiet for a weekday.
Not empty—just muted. Conversations were shorter. Laughter sounded forced. People checked their phones more often, eyes flicking up at the sky like they expected it to do something unnatural again.
Rian felt it the moment he stepped outside.
The pressure was still there.
It hadn't grown stronger—but it hadn't faded either. Like the world was holding its breath.
⸻
The Calm That Isn't Calm
News channels ran nonstop speculation.
Power grid instability.
Atmospheric anomalies.
Solar interference.
Experts argued. Anchors smiled too hard. Governments reassured everyone that there was no immediate danger.
Rian shut the TV off.
He didn't need explanations. He needed timing.
In his last life, this was the final stretch where society pretended everything was under control. Where people still went to work. Still planned weekends. Still believed tomorrow would look like yesterday.
It wouldn't.
⸻
System Status Check
He sat on the floor of his apartment, breathing slow and steady.
The system responded instantly.
⸻
Primordial Bloodline System
Status: Stable
Bloodline Evolution: Dormant
Environmental Sync: Increasing
Time Remaining: 48 Hours
⸻
No alerts.
No recommendations.
No permissions.
The system wasn't helping anymore.
It was watching.
"That's fine," Rian said quietly. "I don't need you to hold my hand."
⸻
Final Preparations
Rian moved with purpose.
He reorganized his Subspace Inventory—not adding anything new, just optimizing access. Tools were placed where his instincts would reach first. Medical supplies were separated by priority. Food and water were rationed mentally, not physically.
He tested his body—not pushing, just confirming.
Reflexes sharp.
Breathing controlled.
Energy circulation smooth.
No techniques.
No flashy moves.
Just readiness.
In the past, people had chased power right up until the world ended. They thought strength alone would save them.
Rian knew better.
Survival favored those who stayed clear-headed.
⸻
The World Slips Again
That night, the city lost power.
Not all at once—district by district. Lights flickered out like stars being erased. Sirens wailed somewhere far off, then cut short.
From his window, Rian watched people pour into the streets, phones glowing uselessly, voices overlapping in nervous confusion.
And then—
A sound.
Low. Distant. Not thunder.
More like something moving beneath the world.
It lasted three seconds.
Everyone felt it.
No one understood it.
⸻
Confirmation
The system appeared one last time before sleep.
⸻
Warning
Global stabilization failing.
Spiritual pressure variance exceeding safe thresholds.
Apocalypse Initiation: Locked.
Time Remaining: 48 Hours
No further adjustments possible.
⸻
Rian lay back, staring at the ceiling.
"So this is it," he murmured.
Not the end.
Not yet.
But the point of no return.
Outside, the city buzzed with fear it didn't have words for. Inside, Rian closed his eyes, calm where others would panic.
He wasn't waiting for power.
He was waiting for permission.
And when the world finally broke—
He would move first.