Apocalypse Rebirth: Begging Me Won't Save You

Freezing floodwaters submerged the top floor of the makeshift hospital up to neck height. The stench of rotting corpses, toxic sludge, and rusted iron choked the air beneath the relentless roar of an apocalyptic storm.

Astrid Pierce shivered violently. Her lips had turned a ghastly blue, her fingers were completely numb, and each breath rattled painfully in her throat. Clinging to the last shreds of her strength, she clutched a portable oxygen tank and a single pack of ration biscuits against her chest—her final lifeline after three days stranded without food.

That hope was ruthlessly torn away.

A familiar pair of hands clamped down on her wrists. Her husband, Julian Sterling, wrenched the tank from her grip. Behind him, Camilla Hayes—the woman Astrid had once considered her best friend—huddled safely atop a gurney, a dry blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Julian, please... let go..." Astrid rasped, her desperate tears instantly washed away by the murky water. "I can't breathe..."

Julian looked down at her without an ounce of pity. His gaze was cold and detached, as if he were staring at a repulsive insect.

"Give it up, Astrid. Camilla has a future. You're dead weight," he hissed.

Without a second thought, Julian stomped down on Astrid's frozen fingers where they gripped the concrete pillar.

A sickening crunch shattered bone. Astrid’s hold gave out instantly. Her body was swept away, plunged into the churning, dark vortex of the flood that swallowed everything in its path.

Thick, muddy water rushed down her throat and flooded her lungs. Bone-chilling cold pierced straight to the marrow. Endless darkness dragged her under, drowning her in the bitterest betrayal.

Cough! Cough!

Astrid jolted awake, gasping violently for air as if her lungs were hacking up gallons of foul water. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a war drum, each beat throbbing with sharp, visceral pain.

Instinctively, her hands flew to her chest and neck.

Dry.

No floodwaters. No stench of rotting corpses.

Astrid froze, looking around in disbelief.

She wasn't trapped in the ruins of a submerged hospital. She was sitting in a king-sized bed draped in soft, lavender-scented gray silk sheets. Warm morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the master bedroom in her luxury estate, right in the elite district of Oakhaven.

Her eyes drifted to the digital clock resting on the vanity.

October 10.

Her blood ran hot. That date was etched into her soul as the start of humanity's waking nightmare. Exactly thirty days before the global deluge hit, drowning modern civilization into oblivion.

She hadn't died. She had returned.

A cold chuckle broke past Astrid’s lips. The eyes that had once radiated warmth, blind devotion, and naive love now hardened into razor-sharp frost. Throughout five years of marriage in her past life, she had sacrificed her career, liquidated her family’s legacy, and worked herself to the bone just to prop up Julian and his family. And in the end? She had been discarded like worthless trash for his mistress.

"God gave me a second chance," Astrid whispered, her fingers grazing the green jade pendant hanging from her neck—an heirloom from her grandfather. "And this time, hell belongs to you."

BAM!

The double bedroom doors flew open.

Julian Sterling barged in without knocking, clad in a bespoke designer gray suit—one paid for with Astrid’s credit card. His handsome face was twisted in a scowl, dripping with undisguised irritation.

Right behind him walked Eleanor Sterling, Astrid’s mother-in-law, chin held high. Her lavish brocade gown rustled against the floor, a pearl necklace resting smugly around her throat.

"Astrid! Still lazing around in bed at this hour?" Eleanor sneered, looking Astrid up and down with open contempt. "Breakfast isn't ready, and you're keeping Julian waiting? Absolutely useless daughter-in-law."

Julian clicked his tongue impatiently and tossed a thick blue folder onto Astrid's duvet.

"Sign this now, Astrid. I don't have all day," he demanded, his tone dripping with arrogance.

Astrid didn't budge. She merely cast a glance at the folder before looking up at Julian, eerily composed. "What is this?"

"Don't play dumb," Eleanor snapped, crossing her arms. "Julian’s investment firm needs an emergency capital injection to cover his losses in the futures market. That's an irrevocable power of attorney transferring the Pierce family trust account. Sign all the funds over to Julian today."

Seeing Astrid remain silent, Eleanor took a step closer, letting out a heavy, patronizing sigh.

"You need to know your place, Astrid. You’ve been married for two years, and your womb hasn't even produced an heir for Julian. Our social circle has been gossiping about you for ages. A good wife should be dutiful, know her boundaries, and fully support her husband’s career. Making a little sacrifice for your husband won't put you in the poorhouse, will it?"

In her past life, these manipulative guilt trips had worked every single time to shatter Astrid's self-worth. Back then, she would have cried, apologized, and obediently signed the papers just to prove she was a devoted wife.

And what had she gotten in return? Billions of dollars from her grandfather’s estate had been squandered so Julian could buy Camilla a luxury villa, leaving Astrid penniless when the end of the world arrived.

Not anymore. No tears. No guilt.

Astrid shifted her gaze between Eleanor and Julian, a faint, chilling smirk touching the corner of her lips. Her eyes pierced through them so sharply that Julian reflexively swallowed hard, an uneasy prickle telling him something was deeply wrong with the woman before him.

"What are you staring at? Pick up the pen and sign it!" Julian snapped, his patience fraying as his ego flared.

Astrid reached out her slender hand, picking up the folder with deliberate slowness.

Eleanor smirked with satisfaction, assuming her submissive daughter-in-law had fallen back in line. "Good. Knowing your place is—"

RIP!

The sharp sound of tearing paper shattered the silence.

Eleanor’s eyes popped wide open, the words choking in her throat.

Slowly, methodically, Astrid tore the thick stack of papers right down the middle. She stacked the halves together and ripped them again into jagged pieces.

RIP!

Astrid raised her hand and hurled the shredded paper straight into Eleanor’s face.

White confetti scattered through the air, stinging Eleanor's cheeks before fluttering messily across the polished marble floor.

"Astrid! Have you lost your mind?!" Eleanor shrieked, stumbling back as she clutched her chest in sheer shock and fury.

Julian clenched his fists, the veins on his neck bulging. "Astrid Pierce! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Astrid didn't bother offering a tearful excuse. She stood up from the bed, her posture straight and commanding, radiating an aura of total dominance that instantly sucked the air from the spacious room. Walking calmly over to the framed painting beside the bed, she slid it aside and punched her passcode into the hidden wall safe.

From within, she retrieved a thick black dossier—documents she had prepared with her attorney long ago, before the gaslighting had worn her down.

Without hesitation, she slung the black folder straight at Julian’s chest.

THWACK!

The folder struck him hard before he caught it against his ribs.

Julian froze, his face flushing crimson with boiling rage as he looked between the folder and the shredded documents littering the floor.

Astrid took a step forward, her gaze cutting like a blade, utterly fearless.

"Save your breath, Julian. Those are divorce papers. And as of this very second, every credit card, luxury car, and estate property you people enjoy... is being revoked. Every last cent."

"Why, you little bitch—!" Julian snarled savagely, his features contorting with fury as he lunged forward, his hand reaching out to choke the life out of her.

Right at that split second, a high-pitched ring buzzed inside Astrid's head.

Her vision blurred, then sharpened, as lines of electric-blue text materialized across her retinas:

[Pocket Dimension Activated.]

[Status: Stasis Space Unlocked.]

[Doomsday Countdown: 29 Days, 23 Hours, 59 Minutes.]