I’ve spent a concerning amount of time thinking about how the world ends.

Different methods. Different timelines. Different levels of drama.

Sometimes it’s a cooling sun.
Sometimes it’s a virus.
Sometimes it’s aliens.
Sometimes it’s five women with superpowers and a revenge agenda who accidentally take out a city block.

(That last one is technically not a global apocalypse, but if you live on that block, it feels personal.)

The point is: I have opinions. Professionally. (Which feels like a generous term, but we’re going with it.)

And the question nobody is asking—but absolutely should be—is this: Which apocalypse are you actually built for?

Not which one you want.
Nobody wants any of them.

I mean which one fits your personality, your coping mechanisms, and your willingness to make slightly questionable decisions under pressure. Be honest. This is a judgment-free zone. Mostly.