9:30 AM, June 13th.
There was still 1 day, 14 hours, and 30 minutes left before doomsday would fully erupt.
Vespera sat at home, feeling restless. Staring at the chat groups rapidly flashing across the screen, his frustration grew.
"What the hell is going on? Where did this zombie virus come from?! If things don't get back to normal, how am I supposed to pay my mortgage?"
Of course, complaining wouldn't help.
The chaotic images and videos flooding the chat groups only made his anxiety worse. Everyone had seen zombie movies before, so there was some general understanding of what zombies could be like.
That knowledge gave Vespera a bit of reassurance. If these zombies were anything like those in the movies, there was nothing to fear. Modern military forces and the global infrastructure of Kepler would easily contain the outbreak if properly managed.
But still, the economic and societal consequences would be disastrous.
And that was the root of Vespera's unease.
To pass the time, he scrolled aimlessly through the group chats, reading conspiracy theories, nonsense, and bizarre images that people posted.
Someone claimed that a giant banyan tree had grown to dozens of times its original size. Another person said they had seen a wild tiger "turning into a spirit" on White Mountain. Others shared pictures of enormous zombies spotted overseas.
Vespera didn't need to think twice to know these weren't photoshopped or CGI. But just as he was about to move on, a new message popped up in one of the groups—someone had shared a strange link and asked a cryptic question beneath it:
"If zombies exist in this world, do you think supernatural beings exist too? Could there really be humans evolving?"
Vespera scoffed at the question. "Supernatural beings? Evolved humans? Where have your materialistic values gone?" he muttered under his breath.
Yet, despite his skepticism, he clicked on the link out of boredom. After all, it wouldn't hurt to check it out while he had nothing else to do.
To his surprise, the link directed him to the 'X-Ta' app, specifically to a post in a forum with an absurd title:
"Cosmic Will Evolution Pioneers."
Vespera's first instinct was to dismiss it as nonsense. "What is this, some sort of game guild? Or a new cult from overseas?"
Still, he didn't think much of it—if it had been shared in the group, there must be something worth checking out. He continued reading, half-expecting to find more nonsense.
At first glance, it seemed like the typical chatter of people with too much free time, just like him:
"Is this a new game? Cosmic Will Evolution? I couldn't find anything about it online!"
"Meet the White Emperor! /Smirk/"
"Is evolution real?!"
But as Vespera scrolled further, he noticed a post pinned at the top by the forum's administrator, the so-called 'White Emperor'.
Vespera raised an eyebrow, reading the post aloud, "Let's be real—it does sound cool, though."
He couldn't help but compare it to other strange organizations on the internet, like the FFF group or the CPU group—groups that seemed legitimate but were clearly just for fun. This 'Cosmic Will Evolution' thing? Probably the same nonsense.
Shaking his head, Vespera was about to close the app when another post caught his eye. This one was different—by far the most popular post on the forum.
The author's username struck him as odd: "Chat Group Manager of Evolutionary No. 001."
"Has this forum actually gained traction?" Vespera muttered, surprised. The content was straightforward, though its message could be summarized in one line:
"Evolvers, search for Chat Group No. 001 and join! For the coming wave of change, the pioneers of evolution will unite here, forming an equal platform for communication."
'Chat Group No. 001?' Vespera thought for a moment before opening his social media. He logged into 'Bluedit' and 'Toktik' and typed "Chat Group No. 001" into the search bar.
"Is that a group number or just the name?" he wondered.
Using "001" as a group name seemed foolish. There were countless groups with the same name. If this was legit, there was no way they would use something so generic, right?
Curious, he opened 'X-Ta' again, but quickly dismissed the idea. 'X-Ta' didn't even have a group search function, making it impossible to find groups that way. So, what exactly was going on?
As Vespera pondered this, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I've really let this zombie virus mess with my head. This is obviously a joke, and here I am, taking it seriously."
He shook his head, scrolling down to see the replies beneath the post. As expected, they were full of sarcastic comments and complaints:
"I actually went and searched for it! Unbelievable!"
"Where's the White Emperor? I'm the next-generation king of evolutionaries!"
"The world's going crazy, and now we have internet keyboard warriors adding to the chaos. I'm speechless."
But as Vespera continued reading, he noticed something strange.
"Hey, I've been messaging White Emperor privately for a while, but no response. Now I finally found him!"
"Applied to join the group—please approve soon!"
"I'm scared. Do you think they'll experiment on us like lab rats?"
"There really is a group! Someone actually paid the 1 gold coin creation fee. White Emperor is the real deal!"
"Interesting! I'm in—I'm number 059. Let's see who got in before me! We're A-rank talents. White Emperor must be a god!"
"Is the countdown real? Is it really happening?"
Every few replies, there was a comment that stood out. At first, Vespera thought they were just continuing the joke, using White Emperor's name to troll the audience. But the more he read, the more unnerving it became.
Between the lines of these seemingly random replies, something unsettling emerged. It was as though, hidden beneath the surface of this chaotic world of zombie viruses, there were people—people who had already begun to step forward.
These people were standing at the precipice of change, ready to spread their wings in this new era.
And Vespera, along with countless others, could only wait in confusion for the wheel of time to turn.
They had only two choices: rise up and face the storm head-on, or be crushed beneath its weight.