The bustling crush of humanity had become common place now, the cacophony of voices and the symphony of a city had become the song and dance of our species. But it was not always such, and return back to our more humble roots we did.
The system had come, and it had stripped us bare. Sure it had given us a means to power, but at what cost. We were the last 100 left. Night was falling on the human race, it was a dark night, and it was cold.
But go quietly we would not. We would make the world burn with an inferno of our defiance. Rage, rage against that goodnight, and I Jack Casser, have rage a plenty. This is my story, the story of the last 100.
Author Note: This story is a LitRPG apocalypse, woah fucking original idea I know but hear me out. If you can look past preconceived ideas driven by a stigma of overdone tropes and done to death plots of achieving world domination and self-righteous characters and give the story a chance I hope it can surprise you.