Chapter 1: I've been reborn?

Chapter 1

"Kyaaaa!"

Mira jolted upright in bed, gasping for air. Her eyes flew open and her heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped animal. Her hands flew to her chest, gripping her thin nightgown so hard her fingers trembled. Cold sweat drenched her skin, soaking through the fabric.

What was that? she thought, her breath ragged. A dream? No. That felt far too real to be a dream.

Within seconds, a phantom pain flared in her throat. Her neck felt parched and burning, as if the flesh had been torn apart all over again. Her hands found their way to her throat in panic. What's going on? Gritting her teeth, she felt cold sweat dripping down her temples.

And at that moment, a translucent, pale blue window materialized directly before her eyes.

[Host, the Apocalypse Survival System has been activated.]

[Regression fully executed.]

What is it talking about? Regression? She let go of her throat despite the lingering pain.

Before she could process the floating text, the bedroom TV, left on mute from the night before, flashed red with a live alert banner.

She turned her head toward the TV, shoved the blankets aside, and grabbed the remote with shaking hands. Turning up the volume, she heard the anchor's grim voice against the graphic backdrop.

"We are receiving reports of a severe, unclassified flu strain rapidly spreading across major metropolitan areas. Health officials are urging all citizens to avoid crowded places, wear protective masks, and immediately report anyone exhibiting high fever or sudden, violent aggression."

The words cut through Mira's frantic breathing like an ice-cold blade.

Her hands trembled so violently the remote slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor.

So it wasn't a dream, she thought, her head spinning as she turned back to the glowing blue panel. The system. Then...

Before she could make sense of what was happening, someone kicked her bedroom door open with violent force, the knob slamming into the drywall behind it.

"Where is she? Mira, come out here!"

"You worthless piece of shit," Julien's mother, Mrs. Vance, barged into the room, her face red with disgust. "You're still in bed? Can't you hear your son crying downstairs? Who is supposed to make food for him?"

Right behind her came Chloe, strutting in with an arrogant smirk. "Mother, leave her. She's irresponsible," Chloe sneered, tossing her hair back. "My sister-in-law doesn't know any better."

Mira's phone vibrated loudly on the nightstand beside her.

"You ungrateful daughter of a bitch," Mrs. Vance barked, stepping up to the mattress. "Get yourself downstairs right now. Mira, don't make me repeat myself."

Ignoring the screaming woman, Mira's eyes were drawn to her phone as it lit up with an incoming notification. Her breath hitched. It was like she was seeing a ghost.

Date. August 10, 2026. 09:00 AM.

August 10th. Exactly one month before the zombie outbreak. The broadcast, the date, the news. It was all real.

Directly under the date banner was a new text message from her late adoptive father's estate lawyer.

[Ms. Mira, your late father's offshore investment portfolio has officially matured today. The total sum of $45,000,000 USD is cleared and ready for immediate transfer into your personal account upon your signature.]

Forty-five million dollars.

A sharp blow struck Mira across her cheek. Mrs. Vance had stepped forward and slapped her hard. "I'm talking to you!"

Chloe let out a cruel, mocking laugh from the doorway. "And in the meantime, tell her to give me money for my designer clothes. I need ten thousand dollars transferred right now."

Mrs. Vance sneered down at Mira. "You heard her. Spit up the money."

The physical pain of that slap snapped something deep inside Mira's mind. The sudden sting brought violent memories of her past life flooding back in full, terrifying detail. The sound of splintering wood. The wet snap of bone. The horrific sight of her husband, Julien, his mother, and Chloe shoving her straight into a howling horde of zombies just to buy themselves a few extra seconds to lock the shelter door.

They had used her as a meat shield. They had watched her bleed out while they hid behind reinforced glass.

Instantly, Mira's eyes snapped open. Red veins shot through her pupils, burning with venom, but the two women were too busy gloating to notice. Mira bit her lower lip so hard it bled, the metallic taste of copper filling her mouth.

A second chance.

Puzzled, enraged, and overflowing with hatred, a dark vow echoed in her soul: I'll make you all bleed.

Mrs. Vance raised her hand again, swinging another slap toward Mira's face. But this time, Mira's arm darted out like a striking viper.

She caught the older woman's wrist tightly in mid-air.

"Not this time around," Mira murmured, her voice dropping into an icy whisper. "Not again."

She stood up from the bed, her tall frame looming over her mother-in-law. Before Mrs. Vance could react, the translucent blue window materialized between them once more.

[Apocalypse Survival System Task Prompt: Current Objective. Take care of the immediate situation you are facing.]

Mira didn't hesitate. With a surge of raw strength, she shoved Mrs. Vance hard against the doorframe, pivoted her weight, and swung her right hand back.

She slapped Mrs. Vance so hard across the cheek that the older woman's dentures rattled, sending her staggering sideways into the wall.

Chloe stood frozen in the doorway, puzzled and horrified. "Mira, why did you do that?" Chloe screamed, her voice cracking. "She was just telling you to go feed your child and—"

Mira stepped forward and delivered a brutal slap straight across Chloe's face, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"Go feed your child yourself, dammit," Mira spat out.

Chloe clutched her swollen, beet-red cheek, staggering back in panic. "What... Whose child..."

Mira didn't answer. She turned back toward Mrs. Vance, who was groaning against the wall, grabbed her by the collar, and landed another heavy slap across her jaw.

"You made my life a living misery," Mira growled, landing another backhand strike.

Mrs. Vance couldn't even speak. She was in shock, gasping for breath as blood dripped from her bruised lip.

"Hey! Stop that, Mira!" Chloe shrieked, lashing out with her nails. But Mira showed no mercy. She ducked under Chloe's desperate swing and landed a brutal palm strike across Chloe's cheek, sending her crashing onto the floor.

No mercy to my enemies.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway as Julien came running into the master bedroom, drawn by the screaming and slaps. He skidded to a halt in the doorway and stopped dead. His mother was slumped against the wall clutching her bleeding face, and his sister was sobbing on the floor with dark red handprints stamped on her skin.

"Mira," Julien growled, his face twisting in fury. "What the hell are you doing?"

He lunged forward, raising his fist to tackle her. But Mira didn't flinch. Stepping into his path, she channeled all her hatred, all her memories of dying in the snow, into her swinging right arm.

The sound echoed through the entire house. Julien's head snapped violently to the side as the force of the strike halted his momentum, sending him stumbling back against the doorframe.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he held his burning cheek, staring at his wife. Mira's face was twisted in cold, wicked rage, devoid of any humanity.

Mira wiped a small smear of blood from her lip, looking down at him like he was nothing more than filth under her shoe.

"I'm divorcing your ass."