"Received…"
"Received!"
"Received!!"
Elric scrolled through the flood of confirmations, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Good. Order had been restored to the building. The residents understood the new hierarchy, the new rules of survival in this apocalyptic world.
With that settled, he could finally return home, enjoy a proper meal for once, and get some well-deserved rest.
Tomorrow's agenda was already clear in his mind: recruit Officer Rachel to his growing group, then head to the hospital to treat Shay's injuries. Two new members would mean earning another Devil Fruit from the system—a significant power boost.
His future looked remarkably bright, all things considered. In a world of chaos and death, he'd carved out something resembling stability. Life, against all odds, felt almost... beautiful.
Elric walked leisurely toward his building, his guard lowered for the first time in days. Then his phone chirped—a sharp notification that cut through the evening air.
A direct message.
He pulled out his phone absently, expecting Natasha or perhaps Jenna. But when he saw the sender's name, his entire body went rigid.
Emily Watson.
Time seemed to freeze. That name carried the weight of a lifetime—memories he'd buried deep, emotions he'd convinced himself he'd moved past.
Emily wasn't just anyone. She was his sister in every way that mattered, despite sharing no blood relation.
They'd grown up together in the same orphanage, two children abandoned by the world. Elric had been small for his age, an easy target for bullies. But Emily had always been there, stepping between him and danger, sharing her food when he went hungry, telling him stories when nightmares kept him awake.
She'd helped him survive long enough to be adopted at fifteen.
She'd been adopted later, too—but their destinations couldn't have been more different.
Elric had become little more than cheap labor for a cold, indifferent household that saw him as an obligation rather than a son. But Emily? Emily had won the lottery. The Son Family of Chicago had chosen her—one of the wealthiest families in the state, the kind of old money that owned skyscrapers and wielded political influence.
Overnight, their worlds had split apart.
Elric's inferiority complex had grown with each passing year. What could he, a nobody struggling to survive, possibly say to someone living in a mansion? Eventually, phone calls became texts, texts became occasional holiday greetings, and then... silence.
A full year had passed since their last conversation.
And now, suddenly, out of nowhere—
Emily: Where are you, Elric?
Five simple words.
They hit him like a physical blow, stealing the breath from his lungs.
Why would she reach out now, after so long? The Son Family had every resource imaginable—private security, fortified estates, emergency supplies that could last years. During an apocalypse, they should be among the safest people alive.
Unless something had gone catastrophically wrong.
A chill crawled down his spine.
Elric didn't waste time typing a response. His fingers moved on instinct, calling her immediately.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
No answer.
His heart clenched painfully in his chest.
He called again—then again—his thumb jabbing the screen with increasing desperation.
Still nothing.
Elric's hand tightened around the phone until his knuckles went white.
"Emily... don't let anything have happened to you..."
In this ruined world, he'd learned the hard truth: no one was truly safe. Not money, not status, not walls or guards or family names.
Not even her.
Elric headed back toward the 28th floor, his mind already racing through possibilities and plans.
Emily was the only true family he'd ever known. Even after a year of silence, even after the distance that had grown between their worlds, she remained the most important person in his heart.
If she was in danger—if she needed him—then no distance would stop him from reaching her.
With his current strength and abilities, crossing cities was feasible. As long as he avoided major mutant hotspots and the worst danger zones, he could make it to Chicago. It would be risky, potentially deadly, but possible.
So he would wait tonight. Give her a chance to respond, to explain.
But if no reply came by morning...
He'd leave at sunrise.
Just hang on, Emily. I'm coming.
The decision settled over him with absolute finality. Tomorrow, if necessary, he would drive to Chicago himself and find her. Nothing else mattered.
With that weighing on his mind, Elric returned to the 28th floor apartment.
The six women had been waiting. Grace and Shay had prepared fragrant white rice using the gas stove Elric had provided—a luxury in these times when most survivors were burning furniture for warmth.
Elric glanced at the steaming bowls, then casually reached into his storage space. In a shimmer of supernatural light, he produced five perfectly roasted lamb shanks and six whole roasted chickens, their skin still crackling and golden.
"Tonight, we feast," he announced simply.
The women stared in stunned silence before rushing to help set the table.
Roast chicken. Lamb shank. Premium white rice.
In the apocalypse, most survivors considered themselves lucky to find expired instant noodles or moldy bread. Yet these six women sat down to a banquet that would have been impressive even before the world ended.
Luxury. Safety. Warmth. Full bellies.
All thanks to Elric.
And because of that, their attitudes toward him continued to shift, softening in ways both subtle and significant. He noticed the change in how they looked at him—less fear, more... something else. Gratitude, certainly. But also dependence, admiration, perhaps even affection.
He didn't comment on it. Didn't encourage or discourage. He simply finished his meal, stood, and headed toward the bedroom.
He needed rest. And he needed to wait for Emily's message.
If she needed him, he would go. No matter what stood in his way.
In the living room, life continued its strange new rhythm.
Natasha, Elsa, and Grace resumed their card game at the table, the competitive energy helping them forget their fear for a while. Laughter occasionally broke through the tension—small moments of normalcy in an abnormal world.
Jenna, however, prowled restlessly around the apartment until she discovered a makeup vanity tucked in the corner—belongings left behind by Shay's friend from before the crisis began.
Jenna's heart quickened at the sight.
She'd been safe with Elric, yes. Fed, protected, warm. But she'd had no access to makeup or skincare products for days now. Each morning she felt her confidence eroding as she looked in the mirror.
Among the women gathered around Elric, she wasn't the prettiest. Grace had that girl-next-door charm, Elsa carried herself with elegant poise, Natasha had natural beauty, and even Rachel—despite her manipulative nature—had her influencer looks.
Jenna worried that one day, Elric might lose interest in her entirely.
So when she spotted the cosmetics, she reached for them without thinking—quietly, hoping no one would notice.
But—
"What are you doing? Go wash the dishes."
Shay's gentle voice came from the kitchen doorway.
Jenna froze, her hand hovering over a lipstick tube.
She turned, expecting confrontation, maybe even mockery from Shay with her scarred face. But Shay said nothing more. She simply returned to the sink and continued washing dishes without complaint—the same as she did every day.
Shay's damaged beauty made her an easy target, and Jenna knew it. Yet something about the other woman's quiet dignity irritated her.
"Hmph. So obedient... pathetic," Jenna muttered, though she couldn't quite meet Shay's eyes.
Across the room, Rachel—the famous influencer—laughed while clinging to the other three women, deploying her considerable social skills to charm them. Securing alliances, ensuring her own safety through popularity rather than usefulness.
Survival brought out everyone's truest colors.
Time slipped by in this strange domestic tableau. Card games continued, dishes were washed, quiet conversations ebbed and flowed.
Before long, the sky beyond the windows began to lighten.
Dawn.
Elric opened his eyes the moment the first rays of sunlight touched the horizon. He hadn't really slept—just laid in the darkness, phone clutched in his hand, waiting for a message that never came.
"So something has happened..."
The words came out as barely a whisper, but they carried absolute certainty.
He stood, determination tightening every muscle in his body. Chicago wasn't impossibly far—maybe a day's drive, even accounting for collapsed roads, wandering mutants, and whatever other horrors now prowled the landscape.
Transportation wouldn't be a problem either. Rachel had arrived in a Wuling off-road SUV—rugged, capable, perfect for apocalyptic conditions. Elric had already copied the keys using his abilities.
He would take it.
Today, he would go.
Elric pulled on his jacket with deliberate movements, grabbed his phone, and stepped into the hallway. The apartment was still quiet, the women not yet awake.
Good. Fewer complications that way.
He paused for just a moment, one hand on the door frame, and spoke to the empty air—or perhaps to someone hundreds of miles away.
"Emily... wait for me. Your brother is coming."
The words were a promise. A vow.
Elric had failed to protect many people in his life. He'd been too weak, too powerless, too insignificant.
But not anymore.
Now he had strength. Power. The ability to actually make a difference.
And he would be damned if he'd let the only family he'd ever truly had face danger alone.
Chicago awaited.
And with it, answers—or rescue, or vengeance.
Whatever Emily needed, he would provide.
The journey began now.
There is 50 chapter Advance, in my patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
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