It began with sunlight.
A single golden ray cutting across my desk.
It was Tuesday.
My name is Seraphina Valerius, and being the Student Council President of Northwood Academy was no easy feat. I spent most of my days reviewing budgets, managing internal projects, and maintaining order. That I carried myself with the cold precision expected of my position—so much so that my peers had branded me the "Ice Maiden."
Most of the time, I ignored it. Their whispers were like ants that don't deserve my attention.
My silvery hair, usually long and flowing down to my waist, was tied back in a tight knot.
I caught my reflection in the dark screen of my datapad: sharp cheekbones, a firm jawline, amber eyes—everything in place.
The white-and-gold uniform of Northwood cling to my smooth bodily edges, crisp and wrinkle-free, reflecting the discipline I preserve.
"Councilor Tanaka," I said coolly, watching him fidget. They always did—new councilors, even the seasoned ones.
Whenever they spoke to me, they bowed under my presence like obedient dogs.
Ugh. Is it really that hard to find a guy who's not completely useless?" I sighed, already knowing the answer, surrounded by cowards, as always.
"The request for a budget for 'swift snack delivery' lacks any academic merit."
He looked painfully small in the oversized office chair, swallowing hard. I giggled accidentally, he probably cowered from my presence.
Outside the tower, the city gleamed with life. The sky was as blue as the ocean.
Sky-lanes shimmered with passing vehicles, while holographic newsfeeds flickered across buildings.
Reports of growing Martian colonies scrolled beside fashion trends and market updates. The future looked bright.
Occasionally, there were rumors—solar flares, end-of-the-world panic, or some flu spreading like wildfire. But I dismissed them. Humans solve problems. Cause logic always wins.
I tapped my stylus. "Now, about the trophy design costs—"
The news feeds before the emergency alert shows broadcasting stock market updates and the latest shoes—replaced by static fragmented images on my datapad of cities in flames, the skies filled with something that looked like auroras, but pulsed with malevolent energy. The "Solar Flares," the garbled audio shrieked.
[A harsh static coming from my datapad, followed by a robotic voice.]
[Emergency Broadcast System]
"This is an emergency alert. A Class X solar flare has been detected. Estimated impact in T-minus 5 minutes. All unshielded electronics will fail. Seek underground shelter immediately. Repeat: this is not a drill."
[Emergency Broadcast System:]
"Warning: radiation levels will spike beyond safe thresholds. Surface exposure is lethal."
My datapad flickered once, then went dark—just like the world outside.
Suddenly, an emergency alert took over every speaker in the city.
"ALL CITIZEN'S EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY TO YOUR NEAREST NUCLEAR VAULTS"
"I REPEAT"
"ALL CITIZEN'S EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY TO YOUR NEAREST NUCLEAR VAULTS"
"THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"
My office glowed with strange intensity. The golden sunlight pulsed—then vanished.
Chaos erupted.
Students and faculty alike scrambled, the peoples faces grimly terrified their eyes wide in panic. For the first time, I witnessed the kind of fear and disorder I'd only ever read about in history books.
My composure cracked.
"Form orderly lines!" I shouted. "Proceed to the designated emergency exits!"
But my voice was lost in the growing sirens and screams of the people.
The academy's advanced communication systems were dead. No holographic announcements.
Everything I had lived by, everything I had planned for…Gone. My meticulously scheduled life. My five-year academic roadmap, it was color-coded and optimized for hours I made alone.
My strategy outlines for the national debate championships, the victory speeches I had already rehearsed in my mind.
All of it…are now meaningless. What's the purpose of plans now?
For the first time in my life, a cold, paralyzing wave of helplessness took hold of me.
I, Seraphina Valerius, who always had the answer for everything and always accounted for my final words, I was no longer in power, people in this crisis no longer listen to anyone.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
Then, a new kind of terror began to filter through the fragmented news reports that still trickled in via emergency radio broadcasts some teachers managed to find.
[Emergency Broadcast – Static, then a strained voice breaks through the interference]
"...This is the Emergency Civil Defense Network. Repeat: this is not a test."
"A new pathogen, unofficially dubbed the Crawler Plague, is spreading across multiple sectors at an incredible rate."
"Symptoms will begin within hours of exposure: fever, convulsions, and extreme joint dislocation... followed by severe neurological distortion. Infected individuals become highly aggressive and exhibit unnatural locomotion—crawling or twisting its body in an unnatural way—toward uninfected targets."
"Do not attempt to aid anyone or restrain infected persons. Avoid all contact. They are no longer humans."
[Static intensifies. A low growl or distant scream can be faintly heard in the background.]
"...If you are receiving this message, shelter in a safe place. Barricade all entrances. Destroy bridges or tunnels if possible to cut their route of exposure in other areas. We repeat—containment has failed. This is a full biological threat classification Omega."
"...May God help us all."
[Transmission cuts to static.]
Trained in rational thought and scientific inquiry, my brain withdrew from the grainy, terrible video of its victims.
I did not understand the rapid change of society.
We were evacuated from Northwood Academy and the command was chaotic and disorganized. The government was useless, the city did not have any clear instructions to its people. Just a wave of escaping people anywhere from every direction. The magnitude of the disaster dumped my attempts to help my fellow students.
My parents discovered me somewhere in the jam-packed streets with all the cars beneath that hot orange sky during the chaotic evacuation.
At first they were relieved on their face when they finally found me, but it was instantly faded with urgency that made me feel worse.
One of the few cars that ran after the Solar flare that my father explained was an 'EMP-Shield' feature. It was their heavy-duty private vehicle, which I had always thought was an outdated luxury of my father's. My father's deep calm voice. Was now in a state of panic and urgency.
My mother, Dr. Lyra Valerius, her face is pale and terrified. As she pulled me inside without a word, and gripped me tightly.
Father said, his eyes darting across the disorderly streets as he evades the fleeing crowd "Home is no longer safe, Seraphina." "Nowhere on the surface will be, soon."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, my remaining calm composure was shattered by my anxiety. "We have to get to an official shelter and assist others!"
Mother said and finally spoke, her voice flat and devoid of her usual warmth. "Official shelters will be death traps it will be overrun by the infected, Sera. The plague spreads too fast and the flares are only the beginning there will be not enough energy to power up and accommodate hundreds of thousands of people" she said grimly.
In the barren, underground bunker beneath our suburban home, which I had never even heard of until today, they told me about "Project Phoenix." It was crammed with strange equipment and data screens that displayed dreadful global projections.
"Your mother and I… we've been involved for years," Father said, his eyes haunted and far away. Mother was a well-known systems architect, and he was a well-known bio-geneticist. I was aware that they provided consultation on important government projects, but this was something else entirely. "It was an emergency plan. For a total civilization collapse scenario." They said.
Mother said, her eyes meeting mine with a fierce, desperate love that frightened me. "Our last chance" she paused crying. "A way to preserve... Humanity. You, Seraphina. Your intellect, your resilience, your genetic markers... you were always on the primary candidate list for Cryo-Vault Terminus."
My mind spins. Cryo-Vault A deep-earth shelter that meant for us to survive...A prospective candidate?.. me? It sounded like something from a dystopian book.
"Do you want me to stay hidden?"The words made my mouth feel like ash. "To be… preserved? While everyone else…is dying?"
Father said in a rough voice, "We want you to live." "This Vault, Seraphina, is made to protect against flares, radiation, and even the virus. It has its own power and life support. It's humanity's best, possibly only chance to preserve what it means to be human, when all of this is over, however I don't know how long that takes."
I got into a fight with them and pleaded. I couldn't just sit back and let a passive fate happen to me because I'm a leader, a girl with a plan and drive but it was all in vain.
We drove that day outside of the city. Where I see fire in the sky. And I looked to my parents, the two smartest, most sensible, and most practical people I knew, who looked back at me with impending doom.
It felt like pure hell following the route to the Cryo-Vault Terminus's secret entry point, with closed and choked roads, far-off explosions, and sirens that never stopped wailing into the static of broadcast radio waves. We passed along with the assistance of armed personnel in uniforms I didn't recognize. Mostly just trembling faces to see, they muttered with urgency and fear. Project Phoenix was real. And it was terrifying.
At the heavily armored airlock, hidden deep beneath a nondescript corporate park, my parents held me one last time. There were no tears, not from them, not from me. Just a terrible, unspoken understanding.
"Be strong, honey" Mother whispered, pressing a small, metallic data chip into my palm – a chip I still clutched unknowingly as I would later awaken. "They will need your strength I know you can lead them and help the people to survive."
Father gripped my shoulders. "I believe in you Seraphina, and within the Vault's systems. Trust the Phoneix protocal adapt to it and survive." His voice was a command, and pleading farewell.
Then I was inside. I was cut off from my world, my parents, and everything I had ever known when the enormous door hissed shut.
I saw Unit 733, my assigned cryo-pod. It resembled a shining, silver coffin. As the pod drained my strength, I was left with nothing but cold emptiness. The technicians led me in, They have sad faces and eyes that don't seem to have any life.
The world and my carefully planned life vanished into a cold blackness, and the last sound I heard was the hiss of the cryo-gas.
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Authors note:
Thank you so much for hitting that powerstone button. I'll keep updating every day, so please bear with me. Let's find out about the other 13 girls and their post-apocalyptic world.