Apocalypse Regression: Starting Off By Hoarding Everything!

One evening, after another day of watching the construction crews come and go, Claire found herself standing in front of her bathroom mirror, her hair still wet from the shower. She stared at her reflection, her mind drifting back to Daniel, as it so often did these days. She thought about the way he had looked at her that afternoon—his eyes guarded, his expression unreadable.

It frustrated her, the way he kept his distance, the way he seemed so unaffected by her presence. She wasn’t used to that. She was used to men being interested in her, to them wanting her, not the other way around. But with Daniel, it was different. He didn’t seem to care. He barely even looked at her, and when he did, it was as if he was looking right through her.

And that only made her want him more.

She sighed, running a hand through her damp hair. She was losing it. She was obsessing over a guy she barely knew, a guy who clearly wanted nothing to do with her. But she couldn’t help it. There was something about him—something that made her want to push, to dig deeper, to find out what was hiding beneath that cold exterior.

She knew that there was more to him than he was letting on. She could see it in the way he moved, in the way he spoke. He was hiding something, something big. And she wanted to know what it was.

But more than that, she wanted him. She wanted to be the one to break through his walls, to be the one he turned to when things got tough. She wanted to be the one who knew him better than anyone else, who understood him in a way that no one else did.

She knew it was crazy. She knew she was being irrational, obsessive even. But she didn’t care. She had always gotten what she wanted, and she wasn’t about to let Daniel be the exception.

She would find a way in. She would make him see her, make him want her the way she wanted him. She didn’t know how yet, but she would figure it out.

Because Daniel was hers. He just didn’t know it yet.

Daniel moved quickly through the mansion's grounds, his gaze sharp as he inspected the perimeter. The reinforced walls were finally in place—thick concrete mixed with steel rebar, high enough to deter any unwanted guests but not so imposing that it attracted attention from the authorities. He had also just finished installing electric fences along the outer edge of the property. They were subtle, hidden behind the decorative fencing, but enough to shock anyone foolish enough to try and scale them.

Hidden cameras were next on his list. He wasn’t taking any chances. Not with the apocalypse approaching. Not with people like Claire hanging around. He spent hours installing them, each camera strategically placed to cover blind spots, ensuring every inch of the mansion’s surroundings could be monitored from a central hub in the bunker.

His paranoia was growing, and he knew it. But he didn’t care. He had a mission: to survive. And survival required vigilance. He had already died once because he’d been foolish enough to trust people—he wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

The neighborhood was still quiet, the calm before the storm, but Daniel could sense it—an uneasy tension in the air, like the world knew something was coming, even if it couldn’t yet understand what it was. He had been through this once before, and the signs were all too familiar.

A few days later, as he was finishing up the last of the camera installations, Claire showed up at his gate again, a bright smile on her face and a thermos in her hand.

"Hey, stranger," she called out, waving at him. "Thought you might need a break."

Daniel turned, narrowing his eyes slightly as he saw her approaching. She was dressed casually, her dark hair pulled back, her eyes glinting with that same curiosity he had come to associate with her. He didn’t trust her, but she was persistent, and for some reason, the system kept drawing his attention to her. The faint bar above her head was always there, taunting him with its potential.

He sighed, putting down his tools and wiping his hands on his jeans. "What’s that?" he asked, nodding toward the thermos.

"Coffee," she said, holding it up with a grin. "Figured you could use some. You’ve been working non-stop out here."

Daniel hesitated, then nodded, walking over to meet her at the gate. He pressed a button on the remote in his pocket, deactivating the electric fence long enough for her to step inside. She handed him the thermos, her eyes flicking over to the construction site.

"Wow, looks like you've been busy," she said, her voice casual, but her gaze sharp.

Daniel shrugged, unscrewing the thermos cap and taking a sip of the coffee. It was good—rich, strong, exactly what he needed. He glanced at her, watching as she looked around, her curiosity evident.

"Just taking precautions," he said, repeating the same line he’d given her before.

Claire looked at him, her smile turning wry. "You know, you keep saying that, but it looks more like you're preparing for the end of the world."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze. There was something in her eyes—a glimmer of understanding, of awareness—that set off alarms in his mind. She knew something. She wasn’t just guessing.

"Maybe I am," he said, testing her reaction.

Claire didn’t flinch. Instead, she nodded slowly, her smile fading. "That's what I thought," she said, her voice dropping slightly. "Listen, Daniel, I don’t know exactly what you know, but... I’ve been noticing things too. The weather, the news—it’s all wrong. Something is coming, and I think you know it too."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. She was smart. Too smart. He could feel the system nudging him, that faint glow above her head tempting him to give in, to let her in, to make her his ally. But he couldn’t trust her—not yet. Not fully.

"And what makes you think that?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Claire hesitated, then sighed, glancing around before stepping closer, her voice lowering. "I’ve been preparing too," she admitted. "Not like you, obviously. I don’t have the resources you do, but... I’ve been stockpiling. Food, supplies. Just in case."

Daniel felt a flicker of surprise, though he kept his expression carefully controlled. She had been preparing too? That was unexpected. It made her even more dangerous. But also potentially useful.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

Claire met his gaze, her expression serious. "Because I think we could help each other," she said. "I don’t have what you have. The resources, the space, the defenses. But I’m not useless, Daniel. I’m smart, I’m capable, and I know how to take care of myself. If things go south, it’d be better to have an ally than to go at it alone."

Daniel hesitated, his mind racing. She was offering to team up, to share her resources and skills in exchange for his protection. It was tempting, especially considering her potential, but there was still that nagging doubt in his mind. He didn’t know if he could trust her. He didn’t know if her intentions were as selfless as she made them seem.

But the system kept showing him her potential, kept tempting him with the promise of what she could become if he let her in.

"I'll think about it," he said finally, his voice cautious.

Claire nodded, her smile returning. "That’s all I’m asking," she said. She glanced around the property again, then back at him. "And hey, if you ever need a break, my door's always open. Coffee, a chat, whatever."

Daniel forced a smile, nodding. "I’ll keep that in mind."

She waved at him, then turned and walked back out of the gate, leaving Daniel standing there, the thermos still in his hand. He watched her until she disappeared down the street, then sighed, turning back to his work.

He couldn’t let his guard down. Not now. Not with everything at stake. But maybe... maybe having her around wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He still didn’t trust her, but if the system was right, she could be an asset. And he needed every advantage he could get.