Every Apocalypse, I Became Their Obsession

Insect Swarm Apocalypse (2)

I followed close behind James as we went downstairs.

The dining room was filled with the warm, comforting aroma of freshly cooked food.

James's parents were already seated at the table, smiling as they watched the two of us walk toward them side by side.

James pulled out a chair for me.

“Please,” he said lightly, his eyes soft. “My princess.”

I sat down and stared blankly at the table, completely covered with exquisite dishes.

Robots… could robots eat human food?

Before this, whenever my energy ran low, I simply recharged. Once fully charged, I would be restored—efficient, complete, and functional again.

James's parents exchanged a glance. I saw his mother’s eyes redden. She quickly turned her head away and discreetly wiped at the corner of her eyes.

“Go on,” she said gently. “Eat up, sweetheart.”

My plate was soon piled high with delicious food.

My owner was giving me an order: eat. So I mimicked their movements, carefully picking up my knife and fork. I cautiously speared a slice of meat. In an instant, a rich aroma burst forth—fat rendered by charcoal heat, carrying a deep, smoky scent.

My eyes widened in shock. Human food… was incredibly good.

James's mom and dad exchanged another look, smiling, and added another piece of steak to my plate. I didn't lift my head for the rest of the meal, perfectly carrying out my owner's instruction: eat more, and then eat a little more.

When I finally finished, I stood up, holding my now pleasantly full stomach, preparing to clean the dishes.“You go watch TV. I'll take care of this,” James's mother said, smiling at me tenderly.

By now, I knew her name was Jennifer, and his father's was Robert. They had waited for me, so dinner started late. By the time we finished eating, it was already close to nine.

“Nova,” James said excitedly, “they said on TV there's going to be a spectacular meteor shower tonight at nine. Let's go watch it together. They say wishes made under a meteor shower always come true. What do you want to wish for?”

“My wish is to kill every single bug in this house,” I replied without hesitation. After all, my mission was to survive the insect apocalypse—and to take good care of James's family.

James laughed, surprised. “But there aren’t any bugs in the house.”

No. In the corners he couldn't see, there had to be bugs. Otherwise, the system wouldn't have issued that task. He simply didn't know.

I didn't explain further. This was my job, and I would do it well.

Seeing how serious I was, the smile slowly faded from his face. He lowered his head and leaned closer to me. “Oh, Nova, you are so cute.” he murmured, his breath tangling with mine. “I really, really love you. You're already eighteen. In two years… will you marry me?”

“I'll protect you with my life,” he continued softly, “just like your dad once protected me.”

For some reason, my heart began to race violently. I was certain my heart rate had exceeded its preset limit of 60–100 beats per minute, surging into a dangerous and unfamiliar range.

I pressed a hand to my chest, staring blankly into his beautiful eyes. In them burned something I couldn't name—intense, searing, overflowing.

“Oh, Nova,” James whispered, “when someone is kissing you, you're supposed to close your eyes.”

I obediently closed mine.

Something soft touched my lips. Even with my eyes closed, my analysis module immediately produced a conclusion: the object making contact with my lips was James's lips.

- Humidity: 37%.

- Temperature: 36.5°C.

- Accompanied by subtle tremors at approximately 2.7 times per second.

Then something wetter, more agile, traced along the seam of my lips—gentle, exploratory. My head felt dizzy. I parted my lips slightly under the pressure.

That warm, supple presence slipped inside. His tongue eagerly chased mine.

When the tip of his tongue brushed lightly against the roof of my mouth, a faint bioelectric signal mixed with an unprocessable pulse surged through me. My main processor froze for one-thousandth of a second.

In that infinitesimal moment—I crashed.

Footsteps sounded behind us. James released me instantly. I leaned against his chest, listening to the frantic pounding inside him.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I raised my hand to my own chest. My heart was spiraling out of control, vibrating at a high frequency almost perfectly synchronized with James's heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“James, Nova,” Jennifer called out, “it's almost nine. Come out and watch the meteor shower.”

James's voice was slightly unsteady. He wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders.

“Come on, Nova. Let's go make wishes under the meteor shower. Astronomers spotted this meteor cluster a month ago. Everyone's been looking forward to it.”

We stepped outside.

The street was already packed with people, festive and lively. And yet—for reasons I couldn't explain—I felt no joy at all. Instead, an ominous tension gripped me, like an enemy looming just ahead.

Seconds ticked by.

Suddenly, sparks ignited across the pitch-black sky. People screamed with excitement. Some began counting down.

Three.

Two.

One.

Amid thunderous cheers, this planet welcomed its apocalypse.

Stellar Calendar, October 15, Year 1026. The Insect Catastrophe officially began.

But at this moment, no one knows.

The night sky blazed like wildfire. Sheets of starlight rained down, dense and unending—like a grand farewell banquet.

Everywhere, people screamed in delight. On television, online, across the globe, the meteor shower dominated everything. Lovers embraced beneath the falling stars, making wishes.

Under the brilliant galaxy, James looked at me, his eyes shining. Then he closed them and began to wish. His lips moved soundlessly, trembling.

I could read lips.

His wish is 'May Nova never suffer again. May she be happy forever.'

The moment he opened his eyes, I shoved him hard. James stumbled backward, nearly falling, retreating more than ten steps before regaining his balance.

“Nova?” Confusion filled his beautiful eyes.

The next second, a meteor the size of a watermelon slammed into the spot where he had just been standing.

At the same time—

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Countless massive meteors descended with world-ending force, crashing straight into the crowds who had been making wishes moments earlier.

"Oh my God—what's happening?"

"It hurts—oh God, it hurts!"

"Wake up! Someone help! My husband—my husband was killed by a meteor!"

"..."

A rapid series of alerts exploded in my mind.

[Ding—Detected: Cosmic Insectoid]

[Ding—Detected: Cosmic Insectoid]

[Ding—Detected: Cosmic Insectoid]

…

Every meteor that fell triggered another alert. It was unbearably noisy.

[Can you turn off the notification sound?] I asked internally.

[Sure. Notification sound disabled.]

Finally. Silence.

I looked around.

Compared to just minutes ago, the street now felt like an entirely different world.

People screamed and ran in panic. Cries, sobs, desperate calls for help echoed everywhere. Several people lay on the ground, their heads bloodied—struck directly, already lifeless. Their families knelt beside them, wailing in grief. Others who had been hit elsewhere moaned in agony. Soon, the wail of sirens filled the city.

Later, we learned that meteors had fallen simultaneously across the entire globe. On that very day, those killed instantly by meteor impacts accounted for one hundred-thousandth of the human population.

A horrifying number.

When the statistics were first released, people pitied those unlucky souls.

Later—after the bugs evolved—many wished they had been among the ones who died instantly that day.

I watched the unfolding human tragedy with a blank expression. Their deaths, their suffering, had nothing to do with me. There were only three people I cared about: James. His mother, Jennifer. And his father, Robert.

I never forgot my side quest: Take good care of his family.