June 12, 2025

The war started about three years ago. It started off with a skirmish between two countries. Allies were made. Pacts were formed. Sides were drawn. Soldiers were drafted. It started off as any conventional war, with the “rules of warfare” being followed. But after the first year, all that went out the window. Civilians were targets. Hospitals, school, churches, all were fair game. The missiles were fired and bombs were dropped without caring where or who they would hit, as long as it was on the other side.

A new weapon was being produced. At least that the rumors were being floated around. We knew that the weapon would be ready soon, but we weren’t sure which side would have it first. We just knew the day was coming.

The first peace talks ended in disaster with two assassination attempts targeting both sides. This led to an escalation in the war, both sides weren’t holding back anymore. More and more weapons of mass destruction were being used. Until the day it happened. The weapon was unleashed.

The sirens blasted from our little pocket of peace in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. They told us to seek shelter. To hide. To do whatever was needed to survive. The big one was coming. We didn’t know who had it. We didn’t know where it was landing. But it was coming.

After the first year of war, I sought to create my own shelter. I found a cavern near my town that would serve as either my tomb or my salvation. had started to supply it slowly at first, then after the assassination, more rapidly. By my count, I could spend decades down here, if I were alone. My biggest worry was the loneliness after all was said and done, but I just wanted to survive.

The earth shook after the bomb fell. I set off the explosives and sealed the entrance to my cave. Silence. This was it. This was where I would live the last days of my life.

Days lasted into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Months melted into years. I read every book I had stashed away about 10 times. I used the rocks in the cavern to create works of art and even sculpted a few pieces that looked half decent. The cave I created kept me safe and warm from the harsh elements outside. The oxygen recycler worked perfectly, I was worried I may have to vent the cave to get rid of excess CO2 gasses, but it worked throughout my time in the cave.

The cave-in I caused was sort of my hourglass. I would slowly start removing the rubble, piece by piece, chipping away at the rocks and dirt and minerals, until I cleared the path. Working slowly, year after year, the rocks were removed, chipped and sanded and slowly pulled away. The cave-in was larger than I anticipated, and I would force myself not to work too quickly on it. Once or twice a week at most.

After 9 years, 8 months and 12 days, I saw a speck of daylight shine through the holes. I quickly plugged it up with dirt and rubble. I grabbed some equipment and checked the levels of radiation. A normal reading. I chipped away some more and saw the hole get bigger. I checked the air quality again. Normal.

I left the cave-in alone for a month as I regathered my thoughts. Am I prepared to head outside? Am I prepared to see what awaits me outside of my cave? I was still well supplied. I could use some new books. Some “new” tools. Some new anything. After another month of wondering what I should do, I made the decision to open the door. I needed closure of some kind. I needed to know what the world was like.

I pushed through. It took me another few weeks to make the hole big enough to fit through. Daylight. The wind. The sky. The trees. I haven’t seen any of these in about 10 years. I checked my instruments again. Air quality: Great. I took off my radiation suit and took a deep breath. Fresh air.

I walked down the mountain. It was quiet. It took me about an hour to reach the road, where I stashed a hidden bike just for a scenario like this. The bike was intact. The roads were intact. I took off.

10 minutes later, I found myself in my hometown of Mt. Pines. As I crossed the bridge, I noticed there wasn’t any destruction. The town was intact. The buildings. The bridges. The land. The trees. Everything was still standing. I rode into town…but there was something missing.

Life.

No one was around. No live ones. No dead bodies. No decay or bones or anything to tell me people lived here. Electricity was still running somehow. The automatic doors at the supermarket worked. The lights were still on. But…there were no people.

The strange part was the food in the grocery store was still fresh. Nothing was rotting or spoiled. I grabbed an apple and took a bite. Still crisp. Still delicious.

Exploring the supermarket, I found the manager’s office in the back. The computer was still working. The date it showed seemed impossible. It was still the same day I went into the cave. Just 3 hours later. Maybe it hasn’t updated yet?

I clicked on the web browser and to my surprise, a web page opened up. As I typed in different newspaper sites, their websites were still working, but all stopped publishing June 12, 2025.

Their headlines all spelled out doom for the nations and civilizations and the human race. Social media sites still worked, and new posts showed up until 8:32 PM. A lot of posts were final goodbyes to friends, family and to the world. Some were religious prayers and scripture.

The posts stopped all at the same time. All around the globe. Everyone and everything is gone. But time seems to have stopped.

Just what kind of weapon was unleashed?