The following week, the weather began to change. It was subtle at first—a chill in the air that hadn't been there before, the temperature dropping a few degrees overnight. But then it grew worse. The cold became biting, the skies turning gray, the sun struggling to break through the thick clouds that seemed to gather on the horizon.
Daniel watched the news, the reporters scrambling to make sense of the sudden shift in climate. The talking heads debated endlessly—global cooling, climate change, an unusual cold front. No one knew what was happening, but Daniel did. It was starting. The first signs of The Great Cold.
He intensified his preparations. He secured weapons—guns, knives, anything that could be used to defend his fortress when the time came. He started growing crops in the underground bunker, using the artificial lights he'd installed to ensure they would have food even when the world above was frozen solid.
And all the while, the system kept feeding him information. Potential powers for Claire—enhanced physical strength, a conceptual power over ice. She was perfectly suited for what was coming, and the system was practically screaming at him to let her in, to give her the power she needed to survive.
But Daniel hesitated. He didn't want to rely on anyone, didn't want to get close to anyone. Not after what had happened before. Trust was a liability. Relationships were a weakness.
Yet, the system wouldn't shut up. Every time Claire showed up, every time she smiled at him or offered him a cup of coffee, the bar above her head glowed a little brighter, as if urging him to take the leap, to let her in.
He hated it. Hated the way she made him feel—like he was on the edge of something dangerous, something he couldn't fully control. She was persistent, always finding a reason to come by, to talk to him. She was smart, resourceful, and she seemed genuinely interested in him, in what he was doing. And that scared him.
One evening, as he stood in the bunker, staring at the rows of crops growing under the artificial lights, Daniel found himself thinking about her again. She had stopped by earlier, her eyes wide as she watched the construction, her questions always just a little too probing. He had brushed her off, but she had smiled, as if she knew that he was just putting up walls.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was almost done with the bunker. The defenses were in place, the supplies were stocked, the crops were growing. Everything was falling into place.
Except Claire. She was the one variable he couldn't control, the one element that didn't fit neatly into his plan. And yet, the system kept insisting that she was important, that she could be the key to something bigger.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. Maybe it was time to stop fighting it. Maybe it was time to let her in, to see what she could become with the system's help. He didn't have to trust her—not completely. But if she was going to be around, if she was going to keep pushing her way into his life, then maybe it was time to use her to his advantage.
Daniel turned, looking around the bunker, the rows of crops, the shelves of supplies. He had everything he needed to survive The Great Cold, but he knew that survival was more than just having enough food and water. It was about power. And if Claire could become powerful, if she could be an ally instead of a liability, then maybe it was worth the risk.
He took a deep breath, his mind made up. He would let her in. He would give her the power she needed, but he would keep his guard up, always. He wouldn't let her get too close, wouldn't let her become a weakness. She would be an asset, nothing more.
Because in the end, it was all about survival. And Daniel was determined to survive, no matter what it took.
The temperature had plummeted overnight, dropping by several degrees with no warning. Daniel had expected The Great Cold to come soon, but not this soon. He woke up that morning to see a thick layer of frost coating the windows, the icy chill creeping in through the walls of his mansion.
He shivered as he stepped out of bed, his breath visible in the dim light of his room. He walked over to the window, peering outside. The entire neighborhood was covered in a blanket of white, the frost glittering under the pale morning sun. The usually well-maintained lawns were frozen solid, the air silent, heavy.
Daniel frowned. He had known this was coming, had prepared for it, but still, seeing it arrive so abruptly caught him off guard. He quickly moved to grab the remote for the electric heater, switching it on as he wrapped a blanket around himself. The cold was no joke—if he felt it inside his house, it would be deadly for those outside.
He grabbed his phone, scrolling through news apps, checking updates. The media was in chaos. Forecasters were scrambling to explain the sudden drop in temperature, some claiming it was an anomaly, others calling it a sign of an incoming ice age. But they didn't know the truth—they had no idea that this was just the beginning of something much worse.
Daniel shook his head, setting the phone aside. It was time. He had to lock everything down and move into the bunker. He needed to double-check every supply, every system he had in place. This was it—the start of The Great Cold, the first phase of the apocalypse, and he wasn't about to let himself be caught off guard.
The bunker was located beneath the mansion, accessed through a hidden passageway in the basement. Daniel moved swiftly, making his way down the stairs, pushing aside the heavy cabinet that concealed the door. He unlocked it, stepping inside, the heavy steel door sealing shut behind him.
The bunker was vast—a self-contained fortress that could sustain him for years if needed. He had his own independent internet cable system, electricity powered by a combination of solar panels and generators, enough food to last a small army, and a water filtration system that ensured he'd have clean water throughout The Great Cold.
He moved through the rooms, checking each section meticulously. Shelves stocked with canned goods, bins filled with dried grains, barrels of water. The underground farming area was thriving, the artificial lights keeping the crops alive even as the world above froze over.
Medicine was next. He opened the storage unit, scanning the rows of first aid supplies, antibiotics, vitamins—anything that might be needed. It was all there, carefully organized, ready for whatever was to come.
Everything was perfect. Everything was ready.
He exhaled, letting his guard drop slightly. He'd done it. He was prepared. He would survive.
And then, there was a sound—a loud banging that echoed from above, reverberating through the bunker.