
End of the World: My Peerless Storage Ring
Jack · Completed · 9.5k Words
Introduction
After inheriting my grandmother's mysterious bracelet and foreseeing the end of the world , I frantically hoarded goods, but my scheming girlfriend, disgusted by my behavior, ran off with a Hollywood movie star .
The apocalypse has broken out, the whole city has fallen, and she is crying and begging me to save her life.
Ah, too late!
Chapter 1
The afternoon sun in Los Angeles streamed through the blinds onto my face as I returned from my grandmother Margaret's funeral. This woman, who had been with me for twenty-six years, passed away peacefully three days earlier.
I sat in the living room of my grandmother's old house, filled with the scent of lavender, with an antique wooden jewelry box in front of me. The lawyer had just left, telling me that this was a keepsake my grandmother had specially left for me.
"That's strange, why not leave it to Emilia?" I muttered to myself. Emilia is my girlfriend, and one of my grandmother's most beloved children. As for me, an ordinary person working as a programmer at an IT company, I don't seem to be my grandmother's closest grandchild.
Opening the jewelry box, I found a bronze bracelet lying quietly inside. Intricate runes were engraved on it, gleaming mysteriously in the sunlight. There was also a yellowed note with Grandma's familiar handwriting:
"Dearest Jack, by the time you read this letter, I will no longer be alive. This bracelet is a family heirloom, passed down through generations. It will save you in the most crucial moment. Remember, trust in its guidance, even if the whole world doesn't believe in you. —Your loving grandmother, Margaret"
I picked up the bracelet, puzzled. The bronze metal felt cold to the touch, yet it inexplicably warmed me. I hesitated for a moment, then put the bracelet on my right wrist.
The instant the bracelet touched my skin, a series of blurry images suddenly flashed through my mind—
The sky was shrouded in blood red, the earth trembled, buildings collapsed like building blocks, and people cried out in despair amidst the ruins... Then a clear voice rang in my ears:
"Seventy-two hours."
I jumped up from my chair, my heart pounding. What was that? Was it a hallucination? I looked around; everything seemed normal, except for the birds chirping outside the window.
But the runes on the bracelet seemed to be glowing faintly.
I rubbed my eyes, and when I looked again, the bracelet had returned to its normal appearance. I shook my head, attributing the strange phenomenon to the mental confusion caused by the recent loss of a loved one.
It was already evening when I drove back to my apartment in the city. Emilia was preparing dinner in the kitchen; her long blonde hair shimmered in the light, and her slender figure, dressed in a white dress, made her look like an angel.
"Darling, you're back." Emilia turned around, a sweet smile on her face. "How was the funeral? I'm so sorry I couldn't go with you, but you know I had an important interview today."
I nodded. Emilia was an aspiring actress, a recent graduate of Juilliard, and actively seeking opportunities. I understood her ambition.
"Did your grandmother leave you anything?" Emilia asked curiously.
"This is it." I raised my right hand, showing off the bronze bracelet.
Emilia frowned. "It looks...old. Is it valuable?"
"I don't know." I hesitated for a moment, not telling her about the strange experience that had just happened.
During dinner, I was distracted, the mysterious voice echoing in my mind—"Seventy-two hours." What would happen in seventy-two hours?
"Jack? Jack!" Emilia's voice pulled me back to reality.
"What?"
"I'm talking to you. The director said I have a good chance for the role I auditioned for today. And do you know who the male lead is?" Emilia's eyes sparkled with excitement. "It's Adam Stone!"
Of course I know who Adam Stone is—Hollywood's hottest A-list actor, standing six feet three inches tall with a perfectly sculpted face and physique, and reportedly holding an MBA from Harvard. In short, he's every woman's dream man and every ordinary man's nightmare.
"That's good." I forced a smile.
"Jack, what's wrong? You've been distracted ever since you got back." Emilia looked at me with concern.
I wanted to explain, but the words caught in my throat. What should I say? That I saw a vision of the apocalypse after wearing my grandmother's bracelet? Emilia would think I'd gone mad.
"I'm just a little tired," I said.
That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The bracelet pressed against my skin, and it seemed to pulse subtly, keeping in sync with my heartbeat.
At three in the morning, I heard that voice again:
Forty-nine hours.
This time I was sure it wasn't a hallucination. I tiptoed out of bed and onto the balcony. The stars were few in the Los Angeles night sky, and the city's neon lights painted the sky a hazy yellow. Everything looked so peaceful, not at all like something that was about to happen.
But a voice deep inside me told me that my grandmother's bracelet wouldn't lie.
The next morning, I arrived at the office feeling preoccupied. I worked at a mid-sized software company called TechSolutions, where I maintained clients' database systems. It was a stable but mundane job, and the salary was enough for Emilia and me to live a fairly comfortable life in Los Angeles.
"Hey Jack, how was the funeral yesterday?" my colleague Mark asked with concern. Mark was a chubby middle-aged man with three children, and one of my few friends at the company.
"It's alright," I replied dismissively.
I tried to concentrate on my work, but the countdown kept replaying in my mind. Forty-nine hours, and then what? The end of the world? Nuclear war? Asteroid impact? Or some other catastrophe?
During my lunch break, I couldn't resist searching online for various doomsday prophecies and disaster warnings. From the Mayan calendar to Nostradamus's prophecies, from solar storms to asteroid impacts, the internet was rife with doomsday theories. But no official channels mentioned anything unusual about the next few days.
"Maybe I'm just overthinking it," I told myself.
But that evening, the sound rang out again:
"Twenty-four hours."
This time, I can no longer ignore it.
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