The 4: Illustrated Survival Guide to 4 Apocalypses

Global warming didn’t arrive with a bang — it crept in, one heatwave at a time.

The ice caps melted slowly, then faster. The forests burned, and the oceans swallowed whole cities. What was once lush and fertile turned into dust and drought. Now, survival is measured by how far you can outrun the rising tide, and how long you can breathe the air that’s getting harder to survive. The Earth hasn’t ended yet, but it’s changing, and we’re no longer in control.

When the pandemic hit, the world didn’t collapse overnight — it crumbled piece by piece.

Cities went silent, hospitals became war zones, and the air felt heavier with each passing day. What was once normal became a distant memory, and survival turned into a daily battle against the unseen. The virus wasn’t just a disease — it was the end of everything we once knew.

When the world ended, it didn’t scream — it just went quiet.

Cities fell in days. Governments collapsed in hours. And then… they came. The infected. Not dead, not alive — just endless hunger wrapped in rotting flesh. Now, survival isn’t a goal. It’s a daily act of rebellion against a world that’s already lost. The rules have changed. The strong die fast. The careful die slower. And the smart? They adapt — or they vanish.

When the bombs fell, the world didn’t end in fire — it froze.

Ash blocked the sky, and winter came to stay. Cities became tombs of ice and silence. Those who didn’t burn froze, and those who survived wished they hadn’t. The sun is a memory. The air bites. And every breath feels borrowed. Now, survival isn’t life — it’s a slow negotiation with death. No heroes. No rescue. Just frostbitten hands, empty cans, and the echo of a world that once was.