BOOM!
A thunderous roar split the sky as a massive silver Boeing airliner slowly descended from the clouds, its landing gear touching down on the runway of Heathrow International Airport.
The engines bellowed like beasts, and as the tires met the tarmac, they screeched in protest, spitting sparks and noise. The aircraft rolled steadily across the runway, decelerating until it came to a gentle halt.
Once the plane had come to a complete stop, flight attendants swiftly moved into action, opening the cabin doors with practiced ease. A rush of fresh air, mingled with the warm scent of jet fuel and sunbaked asphalt, swept into the cabin.
Passengers disembarked in orderly rows, streaming down the gangway and into the terminal. They made their way through customs, retrieved their luggage, and dispersed—each returning to their lives or beginning new journeys.
Only once the bulk of the passengers had left did Lyra Solis rise from her seat in first class. In stark contrast to the others lugging around bulky suitcases and plastic-wrapped bags, she carried only a sleek black backpack slung casually over one shoulder.
Lyra looked nothing like her professional self at the office. Today, she wore a simple white T-shirt tucked into high-waisted, pale blue jeans and a pair of classic white canvas sneakers. Minimalist and modern, yet effortlessly stylish.
She strode briskly through the arrivals hall and out to the taxi queue, quickly slipping into the back seat of a waiting cab.
"London Wildlife Park," she said without hesitation.
"You got it," the driver replied, flipping the meter on and merging smoothly into traffic.
As the car pulled away from the airport, Lyra turned her gaze to the window. She was in London for three reasons.
First: it was nearly March 12th. She needed to buy her second lottery ticket—but not in Edinburgh again. Drawing attention from repeated purchases in the same city wasn't ideal.
Second: to reach the wildlife park and locate the monkey enclosure. There, under a specific tree, she would leave a marker. If Kael Voss, on the other side of the end times, could confirm receipt, then the larger plan could move forward.
Third: once the marker was confirmed, she would oversee the construction of a remote underground shelter. Ideally, it would incorporate cutting-edge technology and house all the stockpiled supplies she had been gathering—millions' worth. The goal? To ensure Kael had access to a secure base when the apocalypse came.
The ride passed swiftly. Within the hour, Lyra stood before the gates of the London Wildlife Park. She didn't linger, only pausing briefly to take in the bold, architectural entrance before making her way directly to the ticket booth.
An hour later, she exited the park with a light expression and an even lighter step. If one looked closely, they would notice that the ring that had been on her left hand earlier was now gone.
Half an hour later, Lyra was seated at a cozy riverside café overlooking the Thames. Across from her sat a tall, broad-shouldered man with blond hair and striking blue eyes.
"Miss Solis, good afternoon. I'm Jack, Senior Sales Representative for MineARC's UK Division."
As she took her seat, Jack politely offered her a business card. His accent was crisp, almost indistinguishably British, though his name and appearance were unmistakably foreign.
"You speak English well for a foreigner," Lyra noted with a small smile as she accepted the card. The recommendation for MineARC had come from Walter Miller.
According to him, MineARC was one of the world's leading designers and manufacturers of secure shelters, emergency safe rooms, and disaster protection units. They also specialized in remote monitoring, surveillance, and communications technology.
While the company's main UK office was located in Edinburgh, the crucial detail was that Kael Voss, in the apocalypse timeline, would be operating out of London. Which meant the first shelter had to be built here—no exceptions.
That was why, even before boarding her flight, Lyra had contacted MineARC and arranged for a meeting in London. She wanted to conduct a site survey with their representative and fast-track construction.
"Miss Solis, I also go by a local name—Liam Kai. Feel free to call me that," Jack added, his tone friendly. "You mentioned on the phone you're looking to build an underground shelter here in London. May I ask—what's it for?"
Lyra didn't answer immediately. Instead, she looked him straight in the eye and posed a question of her own.
"Mr. Kai… do you believe in the end of the world?"
He blinked, caught off guard. His brow furrowed in mild confusion before he nodded thoughtfully.
"There's plenty in the Bible about the end of days," he said slowly. "Matthew, for instance, describes cosmic phenomena—sun turned to darkness, the moon losing its light, stars falling from the sky. It's all very vivid."
Then he softened his tone and smiled.
"But I believe in a merciful God. Even if the end comes, I trust that salvation isn't far behind. So, Miss Solis… there's no need to worry too much."
Lyra smiled faintly in return.
"And if I told you," she said slowly, "that the end of the world will come on July 4th, 2035—what would you do, Mr. Kai?"
His expression shifted—shocked at first, then amused. He gave a shrug and a wry grin.
"Well, who's to say I'll even live another ten years?"
Lyra laughed aloud at that.
"Mr. Kai, it was just a hypothetical," she said lightly. "You asked why I wanted to build a shelter. The answer is simple: I think the end is coming. So I'd rather be ready."
He nodded with a chuckle.
"Of course. That's entirely your prerogative."
Then he slid a sleek Apple tablet across the table to her.
"Here are some design drafts and concepts from MineARC. Sixteen different models, ranging in size and purpose. You're welcome to browse and choose one that suits your needs."
Lyra nodded and accepted the tablet without a word. She began flipping through the designs, her brows gradually furrowing as she reviewed the technical details and layouts.
Jack said nothing, simply sipped his black coffee and waited in silence.
After about fifteen minutes, Lyra looked up and massaged her temples. Disappointment lingered in her eyes.
Noticing her change in mood, Jack tilted his head curiously.
"Miss Solis… forgive me for asking, but were none of the designs to your liking?"
"No," she said plainly, pushing the tablet back across the table. "To be honest, Mr. Kai, I expected more. These don't come close to what I had in mind."
"Really?" he asked, surprised. "Could you tell me more about the differences?"
"It's quite simple."
She took a sip of her coffee. The bitter flavor jolted her senses, bringing a welcome clarity to her thoughts.
Putting the cup down, she continued.
"Most of these shelters seem designed for wealthy clients—luxury bunkers, really. The largest model only supports ten people, and even then, for a maximum of three years. That means after three years, unless they restock, the shelter becomes useless."
"You're right," Jack admitted. "Building a shelter of this kind is a significant investment. Most clients just want protection for their immediate family—and ten people already accounts for an extended household. As for the three-year duration, our research indicates that if a global catastrophe does strike, the climate typically stabilizes within two to three years. That's our reasoning."