The leaders of A City looked grim.
“pH 1? That’s no different from concentrated sulfuric acid falling from the sky. Impossible! Acid rain like this simply cannot form under natural conditions!”
“Not to mention acid rain falling all over the world at the same time—utter nonsense!”
“This must be some deliberate attempt to spread panic.”
But some were genuinely worried.
“Then how do you explain that screen in the sky? How do you explain the voice coming from above?”
Those who dismissed it as nonsense fell silent.
If it were some kind of advanced technology, why had no one heard of it? Technology this terrifying shouldn’t exist.
“They say this Sky Screen can only be seen in A City. The moment you step outside the city limits, even by one step, it disappears completely—sight and sound both.”
Not being able to see it could perhaps be explained as some barrier in the air, manipulating light transmission. But how could they not hear the sound?
Too strange. Common sense couldn’t explain it.
And if something beyond common sense like this Sky Screen could appear, then acid rain beyond common sense didn’t seem impossible either.
Someone suddenly said, “Whether the Sky Screen is telling the truth or not—we’ll know tonight, when we see if it really rains acid here in our city.”
Everyone fell silent. Yes, in the 1980s, A City had indeed experienced acid rain due to heavy coal burning. But after reforms in economic structure and strong environmental protection efforts, the situation had gradually improved. For more than twenty years, there hadn’t been a single case of acid rain, and monitoring systems had issued no warnings.
So, logically, acid rain tonight should be impossible.
On the other hand, if it really did happen, then the Sky Screen’s words were true.
Everyone turned toward the mayor.
The mayor’s face was grave as he watched the horrific scenes playing on the Sky Screen. In a deep voice, he said:
“Investigate the origin of this Sky Screen. Issue notices immediately—all residents of A City must prepare. After dark, everyone stays indoors with doors and windows sealed shut—no one is to go out. The entire city will enter a silent lockdown.”
Continuing, he added, “Immediately send people to check the surrounding towns and villages. Any households lacking the ability to resist acid rain must be evacuated at once.”
“Take inventory of all corrosion-resistant equipment and materials across the city.”
“All underground passages, underground shopping centers, large venues—shut them down immediately, take control, and prepare them to shelter people seeking refuge.”
“All schools, factories, and businesses will cease operations this afternoon. Evacuate personnel. By five p.m., all transportation must be completely suspended.”
Order after order came from the mayor’s mouth, and people rushed to write them down.
Finally, the mayor said, “That will be all for now. For the rest, we’ll convene experts to discuss how to defend against pH 3 acid rain and its subsequent effects.”
Such a state of high alert made it clear—the mayor was treating the Sky Screen’s words as real.
Someone hesitated to speak.
The mayor said, “If it’s fake, then we’ve only wasted our efforts. But if the Sky Screen speaks the truth—then every extra step we take may save countless lives.”
“Get to work. There isn’t much time left.”
Everyone responded in unison, “Yes!”
Meanwhile, the scenes on the Sky Screen continued, along with “Weizi’s” voice:
[This acid rain nearly destroyed half of human society. And in the apocalypse, every acid rain brought terrible losses—crops completely failed, water sources contaminated, roads destroyed, houses collapsed, massive extinction of animals and plants, countless people died.]
[Those who survived also died miserably one after another due to losing shelter, lacking food, water, and medicine, and contracting various diseases from the acid rain. In just half a year, the population loss exceeded ninety-five percent.]
The Sky Screen’s images grew increasingly dark and brutal. The city’s towering skyscrapers lay in ruins, beyond recognition. The landmark Twin Towers had only some steel beams still jutting out, looking particularly tragic and broken.
The great river bridge had long since collapsed into the water. The surface was littered with the incomplete corpses of fish, shrimp, and even humans.
The ground was covered in rubble and garbage, corpses everywhere. The living wore ragged raincoats, heavy tarpaulins, and various makeshift protective suits. Their exposed skin was red, swollen, and festering, their eyes numb and vacant as they searched through the ruins for food that almost certainly wasn’t there.
If they found even a little to eat, they would consume it immediately, only to have the acidic substances on it burn through their esophagus, causing agonizing screams. Others would fight viciously over scraps, battling to the death, with some even resorting to killing and eating human flesh.
“Urgh!”
“Urgh!”
The people watching below retched continuously.
It was currently lunchtime—some had just finished eating, others were in the middle of their meal. This scene caused widespread nausea, with sounds of retching echoing from streets, alleys, and buildings throughout the area.
Then came angry curses..
“What the hell! Who made this video? How vicious!”
“How could they resort to cannibalism! Don’t they know about prion diseases?”
“You’d be surprised. If it really comes to the point you can’t survive, who cares about viruses or diseases?”
“Doesn’t our country have massive grain reserves? Even if crops fail completely, we wouldn’t immediately run out of food, right?”
“Didn’t you see? The roads were corroded by acid rain, bridges collapsed, and probably all the vehicles were destroyed too. Oh, and most people are dead—even if there’s grain, there’s no way to transport it. Plus, who knows if the granaries were damaged by acid rain.”
“But there must be things that can withstand acid rain, right? Sulfuric acid is stored in glass bottles, after all.”
The Sky Screen suddenly shifted to another location. For some reason, the image quality dropped several levels, becoming quite blurry, though it was still possible to make out structures built from strange materials.
[Some people were luckier—they managed to obtain materials with strong anti-corrosion properties and built shelters for themselves.]
The scene shifted again, apparently to an underground location where people in white lab coats were working busily.
[Six months into the apocalypse, scientists finally developed anti-strong-acid coatings, crops, and medicines. However, by this time, with populations decimated, machinery destroyed, and raw materials difficult to obtain, productivity had fallen drastically. Even so, acid rain shelters were still built one by one with great difficulty.]
At this, people collectively breathed a huge sigh of relief.
It was good that recovery was possible. Although they had suffered devastating damage, there was still hope for the future, wasn’t there?
They didn’t realize they had completely immersed themselves in the video’s narrative, their emotions rising and falling with its content.
But then, the video took another sharp turn for the worse.
[However, by this time, the government structure had changed hands several times, and the military had been sacrificed completely through repeated disaster relief efforts. The decline of state machinery directly led to repeated power struggles in the shelters.]
[Some shelters were destroyed in conflicts, others became private property, with shelter rules determined entirely by individuals and specific factions, leading to severe exploitation and oppression of the common people.]
[Survivors couldn’t find a single day of peace. Crime flourished, humans slaughtered each other, and especially as researchers died in waves, humanity step by step walked into the abyss of extinction…]
On the Sky Screen, people collapsed one by one, shelters were destroyed one by one in warfare. People lost their protection and were once again exposed to acid rain, screaming in despair before finally becoming nothing but pools of fresh blood and flesh scattered across the landscape.
These scenes struck like crashing waves against the hearts of those watching, making them pale and instinctively step back, as if trying to escape the brutality before their eyes.
“No, this can’t be real!”
“These are humanity’s last refuges—what’s the point of fighting? In the end, everyone dies together!”
“Damn it! At a time like this, still fighting for power and position! What can you win—luxury beds and fine dining? The quality of life is equally terrible!”
[However, in this world of utter despair, there was one exception—that city could defend against the most terrible acid rain. There, there could even be farms with herds of cattle and sheep, aquaculture areas with crystal-clear water, mountain snow water, perpetual blooming flowers, factories, workshops, hospitals, schools, and even amusement parks…]
This final passage wasn’t accompanied by real footage but rather images that looked like AI-generated artwork—frame after frame of bright, beautiful scenes like something from a fairy tale, full of dreamlike quality, forming a stark contrast with the previous gray, apocalyptic world.
People stared in complete fascination.
“Forget the apocalypse—even in our current peaceful times, I’d want to live in a place like that.”
“So where exactly is this place? Come on, tell us clearly!”
People strained their eyes and ears, wanting to hear the rest clearly. However—
The female voice paused, and this infuriating woman called Weizi said cheerfully: [Want to know the specific details of this acid-resistant city? Please like and send flowers to support, and the next video will answer your questions.]
The crowd: !!!
“Ahhh! Can’t you just finish what you’re saying!”
“You can’t just leave us hanging like this!”
“This video wouldn’t be advertising this place, would it? Could it be some tourist attraction?”
“Creating doomsday scenarios just to advertise a place—that’s going too far!”
As people discussed heatedly, several helicopters flew back and forth under the Sky Screen, apparently using lights to illuminate it, clearly conducting research. But they were too far away to see what they had discovered.
Then the Sky Screen gradually darkened, displaying four words: [To Be Continued,] before disappearing completely.
People discovered that small screens appeared before them, apparently miniature versions of the Sky Screen, with icons for likes, dislikes, and sending flowers.
Some tried clicking like, and it actually worked—the screen disappeared. Others clicked dislike, and their screens also vanished.
Some simply waved their hands to scatter the screen, and it was a dispersed just like that, never to reappear.
The sky remained a brilliant blue with high, scattered clouds and bright sunshine, as if nothing had ever happened.
If people hadn’t taken photos and videos, they might have thought everything they’d just witnessed was merely a hallucination.
Then people erupted into heated discussion again. Various photos and videos exploded across the internet like a plague, spreading to every corner and entering the view of people worldwide.
Most dismissed it as some kind of advanced technology, special effects, or publicity stunt. Others believed it was intimidation by some illegal organization.
Only a few took it seriously, and among these, A City residents were the majority.
There was no choice—the Sky Screen had appeared right over A City.
A City residents had witnessed the Sky Screen firsthand, and that direct impact and shock couldn’t be replicated by recordings.
Moreover, the video explicitly mentioned that A City would have acid rain tonight. Stated so definitively with such a specific, near-term timeframe, preparation wasn’t difficult.
Most importantly, the municipal government had actually issued notifications!
“Sh*t! The town government sent me a warning text! Telling me to prepare food and water, check my house, collect as much tap water as possible at home, and keep doors and windows tightly shut tonight!”
“Traffic and public security bureau text saying all roads will be closed after 5 PM!”
“The village committee came door-to-door to inspect, saying our village houses don’t meet standards. They want us to pack up our belongings, bring food and supplies, and gather at the village activity center before dark!”
“They’re shutting down our factory. Stopping the machines means huge losses—our factory manager is about to become a fire-breathing dragon!”
“My kid’s school messaged me to pick up my child!”
“This is insane—they’re taking it seriously? This can’t be handled so carelessly!”
“If there’s no acid rain tonight, shouldn’t all of A City’s leaders resign?”
Amid all the discussion, some sharp, quick-thinking people with strong crisis awareness immediately rushed to supermarkets and stores for frantic shopping.
Some went online to research what materials could resist acid and corrosion, then immediately went to buy them.
Some worried about leaky roofs and loose windows, rushing to make repairs.
Some hurried to harvest crops from their fields that were already ready for harvest.
Some brought their parents and relatives to their homes, while others left their shabby rental rooms to stay with friends or check into hotels.
Still others immediately drove out of A City—if A City wasn’t safe, at least they could leave!
And in places people didn’t know about, populations in high-risk areas were being rapidly relocated to buildings capable of withstanding pH 3 acid rain.
Offshore fishing boats were urgently recalled.
In some areas, air raid sirens wailed across the sky.
The more people prepared, the more frantic the city became—as though the Grim Reaper himself was chasing them with a scythe.
Emotions are contagious. Gradually, everyone in the city became tense. Even those who had dismissed it at first began to feel uneasy. Without some kind of preparation, it was as if they lacked a protective shield, leaving them exposed—hearts pounding with fear.