Chapter 220: The Announcement Of The Apocalypse

​A soft, fond flush crept up Emily’s cheeks as she sat back against the cushions, watching April move around the room. The affection she felt for her was simple and profound—she truly loved it when April treated her like a sister.

"​Don’t worry about it, Emily," Emily murmured the words April had just said, a quiet smile spreading across her lips. "Just relax."

​Across the low table, Oliver and April had already settled into a small back-and-forth debate over the glowing monitor. Phone in hand, April leaned forward, completely engrossed in the game while Oliver sat beside her, his sharp eyes analyzing the digital terrain with technical precision.

​Emily glanced over from time to time, letting out soft, amused laughs at their unexpected banter. Oliver’s conversation was naturally laden with dense, overly complex scientific terminology that would usually sound like an academic lecture, but April surprisingly held her own.

Every now and then, a familiar physics term or complex structural concept would pop up, and April would light up upon realizing she actually remembered it from her high school advanced science classes, moments that were still vague memories.

​Before any of them realized how much time had passed, the golden light outside had faded into the cool, bruised purple of dusk. The empty snack bowls rested on the counter, long cleared.

​Rufus lay contentedly by April’s feet, his tail thumping once or twice against the floorboards whenever her hand absentmindedly reached down to stroke his thick fur.

On the sofa beside them, Lily was curled into a warm, purring circle right on Emily’s lap, while Emily herself leaned her head back, drifting through a brief, comfortable nap.

​Oliver finally set his phone down, rolling his shoulders with a quiet exhale. He adjusted his glasses, looking over at April with his usual measured, serious expression.

​"I... found this exchange remarkably pleasant," Oliver said, his voice flat as always, yet carrying a rare, subtle warmth. "Communicating casually—without the immediate necessity of medical or clinical studies—is an activity I find surprisingly refreshing. I would not mind engaging in it again."

​April turned to him, her face breaking into a wide, genuine smile. "Me too, Dr. Oliver. It was actually really fun."

​Oliver gave a single, satisfied nod. Slipping his pocket notepad from his coat, he uncapped his pen and jotted down a quick, precise entry: Subject: April. Likeability increased by 30%. Shared Interest Progress: (Winecraft). Communication via non-clinical dialogue: Successful.

​Satisfied with his notes, Oliver stood up to take his leave, intending to return to his sanctuary in the lab. April rose with a quick stretch, rolling her neck before seeing him out to the front entrance.

​By the time she walked back into the living area, Emily had stirred from her nap, gently lifting a sleepy Lily off her knees. Emily blinked, looking up at April with a mild, curious tilt of her head.

​"Are you still heading down to the black market tonight, April?" Emily asked softly.

​April paused, tilting her head with a faint, unreadable glint flickering deep in her eyes. A mischievous, almost chaotic smile touched her lips.

​"Yes," April said smoothly. "Tonight... there’s going to be a big event."

​The underground black market was buzzing with its usual chaotic energy—a subterranean labyrinth of neon lights, illicit traders, masked figures, and hushed, dangerous exchanges.

​Fast forward to the center of the subterranean plaza, a masked figure stepped onto the raised iron platform.

April wore her dark mask, her posture radiating an air of chilling authority. She had initially planned to offer small prophecies to select clients when it was time to reveal the apocalypse to the public, but her erratic, lingering mood swings had taken a sudden, wild turn.

She didn’t feel like being subtle anymore. A dark, reckless itch had settled in her chest—a desire to unleash absolute bedlam.

​Whether they believed her or thought she had lost her mind, it no longer mattered. She just wanted the chaos—and caution—that followed.

​Clang! Clang! Clang!

​April struck a brass gong hanging beside her booth, the sharp, metallic echoes cutting violently through the loud hum of the cavernous market.

​"Gather around! Gather around!" April’s voice echoed across the crowded plaza, amplified by the natural stone arches overhead. "Listen closely, for I have a grand announcement to make!"

​The sudden noise drew immediate attention. Hooded figures, wealthy black-market buyers, and shadowy brokers halted mid-stride, turning toward the platform.

​Originally, she had already made a name for herself and the all knowing and all seeing Seer, so it was not hard to grab their attention.

​"In twenty-one days," April declared, her voice dropping into a solemn, chilling cadence that held the crowd spellbound, "a terrifying, airborne infectious virus will sweep across the entire world."

​She didn’t use the word zombies—that sounded too much like a cheap comic book, too easy for rational minds to dismiss. Instead, she framed it as a cold, undeniable biological nightmare.

​"This is not a regional flu," she continued, leaning over the wooden railing, her masked face sweeping over the growing sea of onlookers. "It is the second coming of the grand global collapse—a violent, incurable strain. It is very similar to the previous Kurona Virus. But this one doesn’t just pass through direct human contact, through fluids, through the very air in crowded spaces, it actually infects the blood directly... and it drives the infected into a state of uncontrollable, violent madness."

​A collective murmur rippled through the crowd. Eyebrows raised, and skeptical scoffs broke out, but whisperings quickly began to circulate among the veteran traders in the back.

​"Wait... isn’t that her?" a masked merchant whispered urgently to his associate. "The Seer? The legendary one who doesn’t get a single divination wrong?"

​"Everything she has foretold over the past few days has come to pass to the exact detail is what I heard and she only tells five a night..." another murmured, his voice laced with sudden anxiety. "If she’s stepping out publicly to proclaim this..."

​The crowd swelled rapidly, dozens of people pressing forward to hear her every word.

​"To ensure you do not fall victim to this impending madness," April shouted over the rising noise, "you must find a secure, fortified sanctuary before the twenty-first day! Lock yourselves away! Stockpile provisions! Fill heavy barrels with clean, purified water—enough to last your families for months! No one knows when the spread will halt, and no cure exists. Not even I can see an end to it, which means the isolation will be indefinite!"

​"Is this a joke?" a tall man in a leather coat shouted from the front. "A worldwide virus? The central government hasn’t issued a single warning or mandate! How are we supposed to just believe your bullshit?!"