Doomsday Coming: I’d Rather Rescue a Hound

Every breath felt like swallowing scalding hot shards of glass.

I collapsed on the porch steps, my lungs completely drained of oxygen, replaced by a deadly heatwave strong enough to instantly cook my internal organs.

Behind that door stood my aunt, uncle, and my lazy cousin. They were coldly watching me through the heat-resistant, blast-proof glass, watching me dehydrate and convulse in the post-apocalyptic heat. There was not a trace of pity for their kin in their eyes, only the glee of devouring my inheritance and possessions.

I suddenly opened my eyes and woke up with a start.

Cold sweat soaked my back. The air conditioner in the bedroom was humming steadily, sending out waves of soothing coolness. There was no scorching sun that could bake blisters on the skin, nor any oppressive heatwave .

I gasped for breath, gripping the sheets beneath me tightly. I was alive ; I had returned to the time before the disaster.

A furry paw gently landed on my forearm, and a warm tongue carefully licked my clenched fist. I looked down and met a pair of clear, worried amber eyes.

Cooper is the beagle I adopted.

"Your heart is beating too fast. Is there a predator? Protect you."

A deep, pure signal of consciousness resounded directly in my mind. Perhaps due to some unknown magnetic field anomaly, or some unexplained connection, I've been able to clearly receive the thoughts in Cooper's mind ever since I adopted him. An animal's intuition is like a keen radar; it always senses the destructive signals of nature much earlier than humans.

In my previous life, some time before the apocalypse, it was because I understood its warnings that I filled the basement with clean water and survival supplies in advance, just in case.

I heeded the warnings of natural disaster, but I ignored Cooper's warnings about humanity.

As that unprecedented heatwave and impending doomsday approached , my aunt's family knocked on my door .

Cooper's neck hair stood on end, a low, wary growl emanating from his throat, and a strong sense of rejection kept echoing in my mind: " Bad! Bad! Get rid of him! "

But at that moment, I made a decision I would regret for the rest of my life . I ignored Cooper's warning and opened the door.

I am an orphan. My parents died in an accident, leaving me a large inheritance.

My aunt and uncle adopted me, but I only found out later that they adopted me not out of affection, but simply to legally manage my parents' inheritance . Before I came of age, they squandered my living expenses and education fund like greedy leeches.

Logically, once I reached adulthood and legally regained control of my assets, I should have immediately severed ties with them .

But as someone who lost both parents at a young age, I have an almost pathological obsession with the word "family." I deceive myself into believing that in a real crisis, we can always help each other.

It was this weak illusion about false family affection that cost me my life.

When the laws and order of society evaporated along with the surface moisture, they finally tore off their masks completely.

At first, they just occupied the living room, complaining that I didn't give them enough food and water. Then they tried to take away my control of the house, targeting Cooper. They complained about the dog shedding and how his panting was wasting precious air conditioning and clean water. To maintain that pitiful "family harmony," I kept backing down.

Until that midday when the temperature was at its highest, my cousin erupted in a sudden, inexplicable rage, roughly grabbing Cooper's collar and throwing him violently out the door. In that hellish environment, where anyone could die of heatstroke within minutes, I frantically rushed out to save my dog.

Immediately afterwards, they locked my door from behind.

Their plan was meticulously calculated: as long as I, the only legal owner, died outside, they, as my only remaining blood relatives in the world, could rightfully take over the house and all the life-saving supplies I had painstakingly stockpiled.

"This time, it's absolutely impossible."

"Not dangerous anymore?" Cooper noticed that my emotions had calmed down. It snuggled up and buried its head in my hand, its soft thoughts tinged with a hint of doubt .

“No, Cooper.” I crouched down, buried my face in its soft neck fur, took a deep breath, then coldly raised my head and looked directly into its eyes. “ It’s dangerous . But in this life, it’s them who should die out there like wild dogs.”

I stood up and flung open the curtains. The streets outside remained as calm as ever. But I knew that this utterly unsecured civilian building would be no match for us in a world that was about to turn into hell.

I must sell it immediately and build a real fortress .