Morning sunlight broke through the curtain gaps, casting light into the room. John Wilson stood by his desk, his gaze calm and firm. Pulling aside the curtain, he could see the usual hustle and bustle of the city, but inside, his heart raged with looming waves. With less than a month before the cataclysm hit, they had to finish all preparations within this limited time.
"How is the shelter construction progressing?" John urgently asked after dialing Robert Harris's number.
"It's in full swing," Robert's steady voice came through the line, "I've managed to meet all the requirements you specified. The abandoned prison in the West Suburbs has turned into a massive construction site with thousands of workers taking shifts, giving it their all to expedite the build."
John felt somewhat relieved hearing this but remained aware that their busy schedule had only begun. Hanging up, he walked to the study, pulling out a map to carefully examine the shelter's location and surrounding terrain. He had to ensure the shelter was not just sturdy but also logistically accessible and defensible—a task not to be taken lightly.
A few hours later, in the conference room.
John assembled the company's top management team. As he entered, he went straight to the point: "Everyone, we don't have much time. I need you all to give your utmost to mobilize all resources and ensure the shelter's construction and supplies are ready on time."
Everyone exchanged glances but ultimately nodded in understanding and support. John then elaborated on the construction progress and work details, assigning specific responsibilities and tasks.
"Furthermore, regarding the procurement and storage of supplies," John continued, "I need to ensure that the shelter has enough food, water, and medical supplies to support thousands for at least three years, including weapons and energy equipment. When dealing with suppliers, priority is on speed and quality, at any cost."
This directive made everyone feel unprecedented urgency and pressure. But John's authority and determination deeply inspired them. Together, the team pushed the shelter's construction forward steadily.
Adjacent to the shelter, the progress was equally impressive. The abandoned prison had been transformed, its thick concrete walls and reinforced interior forming impenetrable barriers. Workers labored tirelessly, efficiently advancing each step, filling Robert Harris with immense pride in his team.
However, John Wilson's actions sparked significant media attention. Various speculation and discussions flooded public discourse, from scrutiny and sarcasm to admiration and bewilderment over the massive investment.
Fortune Magazine: "New York's wealthiest building a massive shelter—does this signal an impending apocalypse?"
The New York Times: "John Wilson's enormous secret shelter construction sparks wide-spread societal debates."
Online forums and social media buzzed with speculation, some directly guessing if John knew hidden apocalyptic secrets, others labeling it the madness of a wealthy tycoon, while conspiracy theorists claimed it prepped for some large-scale experiment.
John Wilson chose silence in response to the scrutiny. He knew debates were meaningless before the cataclysm hit. The only mission was to complete the shelter swiftly and ensure the plan was executed timely.
During a construction inspection, Robert Harris guided workers on installing the underground storage system. He meticulously explained each storage bay's position and purpose—from potable water to food, medical supplies to weapons.
"All layouts must ensure safety, especially food and water, which are top priority," Robert instructed his engineering team seriously.
"Understood, we'll complete everything as required," the engineers assured, promptly initiating the tasks.
John was highly satisfied with the construction team's performance, deciding to personally advance the planning further. One day, deep in discussion with Robert and the engineers, he ensured every detail was flawless.
"The ventilation and drainage systems of the storage rooms must be perfect. A single oversight could spell disaster," John emphasized.
"We've accounted for that. All piping and ventilation systems underwent rigorous checks, with no issues found," Robert responded.
John nodded with approval, showing a faint smile, "Very well."
While vast preparations were underway, the unpredictable nature of the cataclysm kept a trace of unease within John. Despite exceeding expectations in readiness, the ticking clock continually pressed tighter.
One silent night at the shelter, only faint insect calls broke the stillness. John sat in his room, gazing at the starry sky outside, thoughts racing. Memories of the past three years flashed like a film reel, reinforcing his resolve never to surrender to disaster and lose everything again.
Suddenly, the sound of a car's engine interrupted his thoughts; John, startled, moved to the door. Robert appeared, "John, there's something I need to discuss."
"Come in," John nodded toward Robert.
Entering the room, Robert's face showed concern, "John, I've pondered why you're so determined about this shelter. Are you privy to knowledge we aren't?"
John deliberated briefly before choosing transparency, "Robert, I have no definitive proof but have long researched global cataclysm rumors, deeply worried about imminent changes."
Hearing this, Robert's expression turned serious. Knowing John, he wasn't one for baseless actions.
Seeing John's drastic measures, he knew the matter's potential veracity.
Robert nodded in silence before resolutely stating, "Given your conviction, I will fully support you."
John gently patted Robert's shoulder, "Thank you, my friend. Together, let's complete this mission."
As time ticked down, with less than a week till the cataclysm, the shelter construction entered its final surge.