Chapter 7 : The Warning

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What? My "Information Club" is Actually an All-Knowing Secret Society?

Genre : Apocalypse, Fantasy, Superpower, Action

Tag : Misunderstanding, Secret Organization, Wolrd-Freezing, Super power

Chapter 7 : The Warning

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[Time remaining until the Great Freeze: 21 Days]

[Location: Arlen’s Apartment]

[Time: 10:00 AM]

[Temperature: 37°C]

The chaos has broke out.

The panic had spilled onto the streets of Jakarta like oil.

Arlen watched the news on his small TV. The headline ran in bold red letters: "PANIC BUYING HITS CAPITAL: SUPPLIES LOW."

The footage showed a supermarket in Tanah Abang. It was a war zone. People were fighting over bags of rice. The shelves were stripped bare.

"They feel it," Arlen muttered, chewing on his fingernail until it bled. "The animals went crazy yesterday. Today, the humans too."

He sat down in front of his laptop. Expected to find the "Calm" People in his group chat, roleplaying to shift his thought. But instead, he find even more bad news.

*Ping.*

A priority alert appeared from Channel 4: [THE LAB].

Apothecary had posted a new thread. She tagged the other four Pillars.

> [User: Apothecary]: Final Analysis complete. I have decoded the hidden numbers in the Architect's "Hammer of God" draft. <

> [User: Apothecary]: It is not a metaphor. It is an Impact Event. A 10km object is currently entering our gravity well. Trajectory confirms a direct hit in the Pacific Ocean in 21 days. <

Arlen stopped breathing.

A meteor. A real one. The size of a city, will crash into earth.

> [User: Apothecary]: Simulations indicate a Kinetic Shockwave that will destabilize the Ring of Fire. That mean, the Yellowstone volcano will blow. The Ash Cloud will achieve 100% global coverage within 48 hours of impact. Impact Winter is inevitable. <

Arlen stared at the screen, waiting for the reaction. Waiting for Viper to scream "Impossible!" or for Tank to say "we're doomed?"

But the response from the Pillars was... chillingly calm.

> [User: Viper]: Copy that. "Protocol Deep Earth" is now active. My bunker seal integrity is at 100%. Air scrubbers are online. <

> [User: Viper]: I estimated a 15km rock, so 10km is actually good news. Less structural stress on the hatch. <

> [User: FrostBite]: Only 10km? Shame. I bought enough supplies for a 20-year freeze. I might have overspent on the whiskey. Oh well. The Vault is locked and loaded. Nothing bad from excessive supply. <

> [User: Tank]: Ventilation sealed. And thanks for the package from Viper, now Steel shutters welded. The safe room is already build, and My family is inside the safe room. We are ready to wait out for the impact. <

Arlen’s jaw dropped.

They weren't scared. They were discussing the end of the world like they were discussing the weather forecast. They treated the extinction of humanity like a minor logistical inconvenience.

> [User: Seraph]: Then it begins. The cleansing fire before the eternal ice. <

> [User: Seraph]: Sisters, Brothers. We are safe. The Ark is built. <

> [User: Seraph]: But look at the Echoes. They are weeping. <

Arlen switched to the General Chat.

It was a slaughterhouse of emotions. The "Echoes" (the regular members) were reading Apothecary's report and losing their minds.

> [User: Mom_of_Three]: A METEOR?! I thought this was just a cold snap! I don't have a bunker!

> [User: City_Drifter]: I live in an apartment! What do I do?! Viper, please help!

> [User: Student_19]: We're going to die. We're all going to die.

The contrast was sickening.

> [User: Viper]: Calm down. Panic burns oxygen even more. <

> [User: Viper]: We cannot build bunkers for you in 21 days. That window has closed. <

> [User: Viper]: However, survival is still possible for the disciplined. I am uploading "Emergency Protocol: Surface Dweller". <

> [User: Apothecary]: You do not need to survive the impact directly. Indonesia is far from the crash site. You need to survive the Shockwave and the Ash. <

> [User: Apothecary]: Focus on respiratory protection. Buy N95 masks now. If you can't, buy swimming goggles and wet towels. The ash is like glass. Do not breathe it. <

> [User: FrostBite]: And for god's sake, buy water. When the ash falls, the tap water becomes something like cement. Fill your bathtubs. Now. <

> [User: Seraph]: Do not despair. The Architect did not warn us so we could die in fear. He warned us so we could stand when others fall. <

> [User: Seraph]: Listen to the Pillars. Do exactly as they say. We will guide you through the darkness. <

The chat slowed down. The Pillars' absolute confidence acted like a sedative. If the leaders weren't panicking, maybe there was a chance.

Arlen sat back, his hands trembling on his lap.

"They are ready," he whispered.

"Viper has a bunker. FrostBite has a warehouse. Apothecary has... whatever mad science lab she built."

He looked around his 4th-floor apartment.

Plywood door.

Thin glass windows.

Half a bottle of soda.

He was the only one who was going to die in the first five minutes.

"Emergency Protocol: Surface Dweller," Arlen muttered, frantically clicking on Viper's new file. "Come on... tell me how to survive without a budget."

***

[Time remaining until the Great Freeze: 20 Days]

[Location: Arlen’s Apartment]

[Time: 08:00 AM]

Morning came, but it brought no hope.

Arlen lay on his floor, surrounded by crumpled paper. On his screen was Viper’s "Surface Dweller Protocol", a 231-page masterpiece of survival instruction.

Arlen read Page 12: “Required: 3M 6800 Full Facepiece Respirator with Multi-Gas Cartridge.”

He checked the price online, it was sold Out. And the resellers were asking for $500.

He read Page 45: “Food Stockpile: Freeze-dried meals, 2000 calories/day, shelf life 25 years.”

He checked his kitchen: Two packets of instant noodles and a jar of peanut butter.

"It's useless," Arlen groaned, rubbing his face. "I know how to survive. I just can't afford to survive."

He was the Architect. He knew the meteor was coming. But knowledge without resources was just a front-row seat to his own funeral.

*Ping.*

A private message notification blinked on his screen.

It was [User: Viper].

Arlen straightened up. Viper never messaged privately unless it was important.

He opened the chat, typing carefully to maintain his persona.

> [The Architect]: Speak, Commander. <

> [User: Viper]: My apologies for the intrusion, Architect. I come with a concern regarding the Echoes. <

> [User: Viper]: I have been monitoring the logistics. The panic buying has depleted the market. The lower-tier Echoes, they cannot buy or have the gear listed in my Protocol. They are basically defenseless. <

Arlen swallowed hard. Viper was talking about people like him.

> [User: Viper]: I discussed this with Seraph and FrostBite. We cannot let the flock die because of poverty. <

> [User: Viper]: Seraph has provided the funding from her personal accounts. FrostBite has secured a supply chain from a military surplus warehouse in Bandung. We have developed a standardized 'Survival Package'. <

Arlen blinked. "Wait... what?"

> [User: Viper]: We created a kit. Compact, essential, and calculated for 30 days of high-intensity survival. We plan to distribute these to the loyal Echoes. <

> [User: Viper]: But we cannot distribute unverified gear. We need your eyes, Architect. We need you to judge if these tools are worthy of the calamity you predicted. <

> [User: Viper]: I took the liberty of shipping three prototype bundles to your secure drop-point (the address you used for the server registration last year). Courier tracking says they just arrived at your lobby. <

Arlen froze.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring his sandals, and ran out of his apartment door. He sprinted down the stairs to the lobby.

There, sitting on the receptionist's desk, were three large, matte-black Pelican hard cases. They looked heavy, and even expensive.

The receptionist looked at Arlen. "Mr. Arlen? The package is from Bandung. It's really heavy."

"Ah yes, it's from my acquaintance. Thanks, for receiving it for me" respon Arlen.

"Anytime." The receptionist smiles.

Arlen signed the paper with shaking hands. He dragged the heavy cases up to his room, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Back in his apartment, he locked the door.

He placed the cases on the floor. They were labeled: TYPE-A (Scout), TYPE-B (Fortress), and TYPE-C (Medical).

He opened TYPE-A.

The smell of fresh factory rubber and gun oil hit him.

Inside, nestled in custom-cut foam, was everything he had been crying about five minutes ago.

* 1x Military Grade Gas Mask (Full Face) with 4 spare filters.

* 10x MRE (Meals Ready to Eat) packs. High calorie, heating element included.

* 1x Tactical Knife (Fixed Blade) with a fire-starter rod attached to the sheath.

* 1x Water Filtration Pump.

* 1x Thermal Mylar Bivvy Bag (Sleeping bag).

Arlen stared at the kit. He was so happy until his body trembling, with this he can survive.

Arlen moved to the second case, labeled TYPE-B (Fortress). It was significantly heavier than the first.

He undid the latches. Inside was a masterclass in static defense:

* 3x Rolls of Industrial Gorilla Tape (Black).

* 1x Roll of Heavy-Duty 6-mil Polyethylene Sheeting (enough to seal every window in most of house/apartment).

* 1x Solar/Hand-Crank Emergency Radio with a built-in floodlight.

* 1x Tactical Tomahawk/Hatchet (matte black steel, terrifyingly sharp).

* 1x 24-inch Breaching Bar (Crowbar), painted red.

* 10x Chemical Light Sticks (Glow Sticks), industrial grade, 12-hour duration.

"He sent me a crowbar," Arlen whispered, lifting the heavy steel bar. "As always, viper even think about how to break out if something happens."

Finally, he opened the smallest but most intricate case, TYPE-C (Medical).

It unfolded like a portable hospital.

Every pouch was labeled in Viper's neat handwriting.

* Trauma Kit: Tourniquets, Bandages, and QuikClot gauze for massive hemorrhage control.

* Pharmacy Module: Broad-spectrum antibiotics (Amoxicillin), high-strength painkillers, anti-diarrheals, and a bottle of Potassium Iodide tablets (for radiation protection).

* Ash Defense: Two large bottles of Saline Eye Wash (to flush volcanic glass from eyes) and burn gel.

* Surgical Set: A sealed kit containing scalpels, sutures, and forceps.

Arlen stared at the surgical kit. He didn't know how to stitch a wound.

But looking at the gleaming metal of the scalpel, he realized Viper expected all of the member to be capable of performing battlefield surgery on himself or other person if necessary.

"This is thousands of dollars of gear," Arlen realized, his voice trembling as he touched the cold aluminum of the medical case.

He opened the chat again, his fingers hovering over the keys. He wanted to type: THANK YOU! OH MY GOD THANK YOU!

But he couldn't. He was the Architect.

After calming down, he cracked his knuckles, and channeled his inner "Architect."

> [The Architect]: I have examined the tribute. Your foresight is sharpening, Viper. <

> [The Architect]: The filtration units are P-100 grade; they will strip the glass shards from the air before they shred the lungs. Good. <

> [The Architect]: I see you included Potassium Iodide. You anticipate the silent radiation from the falling stars. A wise calculation. <

> [The Architect]: And the red breaching bar... yes. You understand that when the cold comes, the laws of man will follow the freezing world. Only the laws of jungle will remain. <

> [The Architect]: This is the preparation of the new world. It is approved. <

Arlen hit send, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Did that sound cool enough? I hope that sounded cool enough."

The reply came instantly.

> [User: Viper]: Thank you, Sir. Your validation honors me. <

> [User: Viper]: I have 56 units palletized and ready for immediate courier injection. One for every Echo currently registered in the database. No one is left behind. <

> [User: Viper]: Distribution begins tonight. We will be ready. <

Arlen stared at the number. 56. He never know that his "Information club" still growing their number.

And, the surprising is. Viper had made a kit for everyone. Even the new members who joined yesterday. Even the annoying ones.

Arlen closed the chat.

He looked at the three cases filled with food, masks, and tools.

He laughed. It was a dry, incredulous laugh that echoed in his empty room.

"They don't know they just saved their Architect from starving to death in the apocalypse."

›› To Be Continue ‹‹

—KS