Reborn to the red skyline

Septa

Septa stumbled to her feet, the familiar ache spreading through her body. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for anything out of place.

Nothing had changed.

The bucket of cleaning water sat beside her feet, the floor was still damp from the scrubbing, and the voices of her three sisters drifted from the next room as they prepared for school.

She was back on the exact day a crack appeared in the sky.

"Septa! What are you still doing there?"

Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts.

She stood by the doorway, watching Septa with a frown. Behind her, Septa's three sisters were dressed in their college uniforms, their bags slung over their shoulders. They looked exactly as Septa remembered them.

Xena stood before the mirror, adjusting her collar while the twins argued over who had taken the prettier hair ribbon.

"Mother, tell her to give it back!" one of them complained.

"I picked it up first," the other protested.

"Both of you, enough," their mother snapped. "You'll miss the bus if you keep this up."

Xena chuckled as she collected her bag. "Let them fight. Perhaps the college will teach them some manners."

"At least we don't spend all morning admiring ourselves in the mirror," one of the twins shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Girls!" Their mother raised her voice, and the room fell silent. "You have important training today. I won't have you arriving late and embarrassing this family."

The college was where Dandelions were trained until their abilities were strong enough for them to be considered ready for breeding. Septa's sisters attended because they showed promise, while she remained at home, scrubbing floors and cleaning up after them.

Their mother moved toward the window and pulled the curtains aside. Her expression tightened as she studied the sky.

"Before you leave, I want all of you to be careful today."

Xena turned away from the mirror. "Why? What happened?"

"Have you not noticed the sky?"

They all looked toward the window.

A faint reddish tint hung over the distant horizon, so subtle that it could easily have been mistaken for the morning sunlight. Yet it hadn't been there the previous day.

One of Septa's sisters stepped closer to the window.

"Is that normal?"

"That's what I want to know," their mother replied. "I've heard reports of strange changes in the weather from the neighbouring packs. Some say the Lycans in their pack have been behaving strangely too."

"How?" Xena asked, her interest piqued.

"Nothing has been confirmed, so don't start spreading rumours. Just be careful on your way to college, and don't wander away from the other students."

"Mother, we're not children," Xena said with a dismissive wave. "If anything comes our way, we'll handle it."

"You may be talented, but talent won't protect you from everything." Their mother's eyes narrowed. "Stay together, and come straight home after your lessons. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mother," they answered.

Septa's fingers tightened around the bucket's handle.

Her eyes moved from the window to her sisters, taking in their familiar faces. They were alive, untouched by the coming disaster, with no idea how quickly their comfortable lives would fall apart.

"Septa!" Her mother's voice made her flinch.

"What are you staring at? Do you want another beating? Is that what you're looking for this morning?"

Septa's grip on the bucket tightened until the handle pressed painfully into her palm.

"No, Mother."

"Then stop standing there and finish your work."

"Yes, Mother."

The moment her mother's footsteps faded, Septa set the bucket aside and made her way to her room.

It was small, barely large enough for the narrow bed and the wooden chest beneath the window. She shut the door behind her and sat on the edge of the mattress.

For several seconds, she couldn't move. The memories came rushing back, and her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt.

They had left her to die.

Her gaze shifted toward the window, where the faint red glow lingered in the distance.

She had exactly thirty days to prepare for the inevitable end of the world. In her previous life, she had wasted too much time trying to earn her family's affection. She had hoped that telling them about the bunker she found while collecting scraps would show them that she was important. She had cleaned their floors and sacrificed the little she had to help build a safe house that eventually shut its gates against her.

She didn't plan to make the same mistake a second time. The sky was already changing. No matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, the apocalypse was coming.

This time, she'd prepare for it. Food, medicine, weapons, water. She knew where to find them, and she remembered the places everyone else would overlook. There was no reason to waste time begging people to help her when she could secure her own survival.

Then she remembered the abandoned military installation outside the pack.

Beneath its ruined buildings lay an underground bunker that most people believed had been emptied years ago. She remembered hearing about it during her first life. By the time other survivors discovered what lay beneath the installation, a powerful faction had already claimed it.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

The bunker would be her first destination.

Septa pushed herself off the bed, remembering the several errands she had to run that day. It was the perfect opportunity to leave the house and head to the bunker without raising suspicion.

She had thirty days to prepare for the apocalypse, and she wasn't going to waste a single one.

The sooner she got to that bunker, the better her chances of securing it before anyone else did.