Apocalypse: The Substitute Bride's SSS-Rank System

POV AMARA

“My own family packed me up like cannon fodder right before the world went to hell. What they didn’t know is that I’m not afraid of monsters. Some of us just know them better than most.”

The white lace of this damned wedding dress squeezes my chest so tight that every breath takes real effort. I look down, cheap satin, plastic sequins, and a hem already dust-stained from the road outside the windows. This isn’t what an heiress should walk down the aisle wearing. It’s a disguise, the perfect wrapper the Wilsons used to get rid of me for good.

“Amara, look on the bright side,” my half-sister Chloe’s shrill voice still rings in my head like a buzz that won’t fade. “You were never going to make a good marriage with your… background. Marrying Commander Lanston is the kindest thing Father will ever do for you. Be grateful you aren’t being turned out with nothing at all.”

Kind, that was the word they used.

Funny, isn’t it?

The truth is, nobody in high society would go near Nikolai Lanston. They called him the Federation Military’s mad dog. The man who came back from biological containment zones with dark veins crawling up his neck, brute strength that seemed endless, and terrifying rumors that any day now he’d lose his mind and turn into something no longer human. Chloe screamed, cried, and even threatened to poison herself before getting into this car.

Then my father had his brilliant idea.

He sent me instead, shoved me inside this armored limousine like I was a parcel while they climbed aboard their private helicopter, heading for the safe zones in the north. What a lovely family.

Poor fools. If they only knew that the real Amara Wilson died in her room last night, and I woke up in her body just in time to watch this whole world fall apart, they wouldn’t be smiling quite so confidently.

I turn my head and look at him.

Nikolai Lanston takes up nearly the entire back seat. He’s massive, imposing, even chained like he is. He wears a dark military uniform, worn and stained with mud and something that looks like dried blood. His wrists are locked behind heavy shackles made from some dense alloy, built specifically to hold him, as if he were a dangerous beast rather than the man he once was.

His breathing sounds ragged, uneven. Cold sweat runs down his sharp jaw, and beneath his pale skin, deep blue, almost black veins throb with desperate force. The infection is eating him away from the inside, little by little.

“Stop staring,” he growls, his voice low, thick with pain and a contained fury that makes the air feel heavier. “Or I’ll snap your neck before we reach the base.”

I don’t flinch. I cross my arms, ignoring how the corset digs in as I move.

“You’d have to be able to move first, Commander. And from where I’m standing, you can barely keep your eyes open. Looks like you’ll pass out before we leave this avenue.”

He snaps his head up. His eyes should be dark, but now they glow with unstable crimson flecks, like embers about to catch fire. There’s rage, plenty of it, but also something else, surprise. He expected me to be trembling, crying, begging for my life. Not someone meeting his gaze straight-on.

“You have no idea what you’ve walked into, girl,” he mutters, clenching his fists so hard the chains creak under the strain of his muscles.

“I know exactly where I am. With the man everyone fears and nobody bothered to help. They left you here to let the infection finish the job, didn’t they? We’ve both been abandoned, Lanston. We’re in exactly the same boat.”

He’s about to reply, but a deafening screech tears through the air.

It’s no ordinary noise. It’s a siren, the military’s red biothreat alert, the one that never sounds, the one that means something catastrophic is happening..

The sound is so loud it rattles through the vehicle’s metal panels. The driver slams on the brakes, and the car skids across hot asphalt. My body lurches forward; I catch myself against the front seat backrest just in time to avoid smashing my face.

“What on earth is happening?” I call out, leaning toward the window.

“Ma’am!” The driver’s voice trembles with pure panic over the intercom. “The shopping mall has collapsed! People, God help us, they’re tearing each other apart! They’re coming this way, thousands of them!”

I peer out through the tinted glass and feel my stomach drop.

The main avenue is absolute chaos. People run for their lives, leaving behind abandoned cars, bags, shoes, anything that slows them down. But they aren’t alone. Behind them come other shapes, moving on all fours, with a speed that shouldn’t be possible. Clambering over car hoods and rooftops as if they weigh nothing. Their mouths hang open in silent screams, their skin hangs in strips, and their eyes, completely white, no trace of pupils at all.

“Runners,” I whisper. My heart hammers so hard I can hear it in my ears. “The first infected.”

The story, or rather, this world I’ve fallen into, has just begun its worst chapter. And the first wave is deadly.

“Drive, damn it!” Nikolai roars, but it’s already too late.

A figure drops from the pedestrian overpass and smashes against the windshield with a sickening, heavy thud. Cracks spiderweb across the tempered glass. Three more shapes slam into the sides at the same time. The vehicle swerves out of control, careens sideways, hits a lamppost, and flips over twice before slamming down onto the pavement.

Everything becomes twisted metal, sparks, and a jolt that shakes me to my bones.

When the world stops spinning, there’s silence. Only the sharp smell of gasoline and burning plastic. I’m lying on my stomach, pinned between what used to be a seat and the crushed roof. Something warm trickles down my forehead; when I touch it, my fingers come away stained red.

Just over a meter away, Nikolai is still alive, but worse off than before. One of his chains snapped in the crash. And something has shifted inside him. The dark veins aren’t just throbbing anymore, they glow with a sickly, toxic luminescence. His fingernails have lengthened, black and sharp like claws. He gasps, slamming his fists against the floor, fighting a losing battle from one second to the next.

“Kill me…” he breathes, and his voice no longer sounds human. “Get away from me… or if I lose control, I’ll tear you apart.”

Outside, I hear scraping sounds. Something is dragging itself across the overturned roof. And inside, I have a ticking time bomb that’s seconds from going off.

That’s when the impossible happens.

Bright blue light flares before my eyes, and a voice speaks clearly and directly inside my head:

[ANNIHILATION SYSTEM SSS, SUCCESSFULLY INITIALIZED]

[Host confirmed, Amara Wilson]

[Status, Catastrophe Level, Infected Horde, Phase 1]

[Critical Warning, Subject Nikolai Lanston on the verge of full mutation. Current survival rate, 0.01%]

[Welcome Pack Unlocked, ‘Tactical Core Eye’ + ‘Ion Suppression Dagger’]

Suddenly there’s something in my right hand, a dagger with a heavy hilt, made of cold metal that glows with that same soft blue light. And when I look back at Nikolai, I see something new, a blinking red dot hovering right over his chest, marking the exact center of the dark energy eating him alive.

The roof gives way with a groan of twisting metal. A blood-soaked hand forces its way through the wreckage, followed by a mangled face staring back at me with those sightless white eyes. It’s one single lunge away from reaching us.

Nikolai bellches a sound that sends shivers down my spine, and he readies himself to lunge, at them, at me, it no longer matters.

I grip the dagger until my knuckles turn white. I didn’t cross into this world just to die in a wrecked car, wearing a wedding dress, without even trying to fight.

“Don’t you dare move,” I tell him, and my voice comes out steady, surprisingly calm. “Because I’m not going to kill you. I’m getting us out of here, whether you like it or not.”