Reborn 30 Days before the solar rust

Freya’s pov

The sun did not feel warm anymore. It felt like hot grease poured directly onto my skin. I pulled my leather gloves tight over my wrists and adjusted my thick plastic goggles. Outside the shelter’s inner door, the sky was not blue. It was an ugly, bruised crimson color, choked with sparkling grey dust that smelled like burnt copper. People called it the Solar Rust.

When the sun tore through the atmosphere three months ago, it did not bring light, it brought blistering heat and microscopic metal dust that shredded lungs and turned electronics into junk.

I took a deep breath inside my air mask, lifted my heavy metal toolbox, and opened the thick steel lock of the courtyard door.

I was exhausted. My skin was raw, my muscles boiled with pain, and my eyes burned. But if I did not clean the outer intake filters right now, the air scrubbers inside would clog, and everyone in the shelter would suffocate in their sleep.

There were five other people living in my underground house: my husband Sam, his mother Belinda, his sister Deborah, my best friend Madison, and Madison’s five-year-old daughter, Hailey.

And not one of them had offered to step outside.

"Be careful, sweetie," Sam had told me earlier, sitting on the soft leather sofa inside the air-conditioned living room while eating a bowl of canned peaches. "You’re the only one who really understands how the machinery works. We’d just get in your way."

"Yes, hurry up, Freya," his mother had called out from the dining table, fanning herself with a magazine. "The air in here is getting a little hot. Make sure you fix it properly this time."

I had said nothing. I had just put on my heavy gear and stepped out into the heat.

For forty-five grueling minutes, I fought the burning wind in the courtyard. The metallic dust bit into my face like tiny needles. My hands trembled as I unscrewed the hot steel plates of the filtration unit, scrubbed the thick grey powder off the filters, and bolted everything back together. Every breath felt like inhaling fire, but I kept going because I loved Sam, and I wanted to protect the people around me.

Finally, the green light on the filter unit clicked on. The air system hummed back to life.

Wiping sweat and dust from my forehead, I dragged myself back through the heavy airlock door. I stripped off my dust-covered suit in the outer chamber and stepped softly into the cool, dark hallway leading toward the master suite. I wanted to wash my face and tell Sam the air was fixed.

As I reached the cracked door of the main bedroom, I heard low, hushed voices.

"Are you sure she didn't see the papers in your bag?"

It was Madison’s voice. But it wasn't the soft, timid voice she always used when she begged me for extra water rations or fresh clothes. It was sharp, cold, and calculated.

I stopped. My hand hovered an inch above the door handle.

"She didn't see anything," Sam’s voice replied, relaxed and smooth. "Freya is too busy playing the brave hero outside to notice anything. She actually thinks I love her."

A light laugh came from inside the room—the sweet, familiar giggle of my best friend, Madison.

"She really is a fool," Madison said. "Working herself to death in that dust storm while we sit in the cool air. But Sam... what about Hailey? She’s getting older. She keeps asking why we have to pretend her father died.”

My heart froze. I pressed my eye to the thin gap in the door frame.

Inside, Madison was sitting on the edge of the bed. Sam was standing right between her knees, his hands resting gently on Madison’s shoulders. He leaned down and kissed Madison deeply on the lips.

I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured directly down my throat. My blood went completely cold.

"We won't have to pretend much longer, my love," Sam whispered against Madison's neck, holding her tight. "Hailey is my daughter, and everyone will know it soon. Once Freya finishes setting up the underground water well and stocks the lower pantry, we won't need her anymore."

"What about the house deed?" Madison asked, wrapping her arms around Sam's waist. "Mum and Deborah are getting impatient. Deborah wants Freya's private suite for herself."

"Mum and Deborah know the plan," Sam chuckled quietly. "Freya put everything in my name when we got married. The moment she’s gone, this whole place belongs to us. All the food, the water well, the solar generators. You, me, little Hailey, my mother, and my sister. We’ll live like royalty while the rest of the world rots outside."

I took a step back, my mind reeling.

*Hailey was Sam’s daughter?*

Five years ago, Madison had come to me crying, claiming she was pregnant by a man who had abandoned her. I had opened my home. I had paid for Madison's hospital bills, bought baby clothes, and treated Hailey like my own niece. When the Solar Rust hit, I had risked my life to drag Madison and Hailey into this fortified shelter.

And all this time, Sam and Madison had been laughing at me behind my back. They had used my money, my sweat, and my kindness to build a nest for their own secret family.

A terrible, suffocating fury erupted inside my chest. My eyes went red. I didn't think or plan. I simply kicked the bedroom door wide open.

*BANG!*

The door crashed against the wall. Sam and Madison jumped apart, their faces turning ghost-white.

"Freya!" Sam stammered, his hands shaking as he pulled back. "Wait—it’s not what it looks like—"

"You disgusting parasites!" I screamed, my voice cracking with pure rage. "I built this place! I bought the food! I cleared the dust while you sat inside like cattle! And you were planning to steal it all with her?!”

Madison scrambled backward on the bed, her fake innocent face twisting into something ugly and dark. "Sam, do something! She heard everything!"

Footsteps thundered down the hallway. Belinda and Deborah rushed into the room, alerted by my shouting.

"What is going on here?" Belinda hissed, looking at me with pure disgust. "Why are you screaming like a lunatic in my son's house?"

"Your son's house?!" I laughed hysterically, tears of rage spilling down my dirty cheeks. "I paid for every brick in this place! And now! Get out of my home, all of you!"

I turned to grab the heavy emergency wrench hanging on the hallway wall to force them out, but Sam was faster.

With a brutal shove, Sam hit me from behind. I crashed hard against the concrete floor, my chin slamming into the ground. Pain exploded in my head. Before I could push myself up, Belinda jumped forward and pinned my legs to the floor, while Deborah grabbed my left arm, holding me down with all her weight.

"Hold her!" Madison screamed from the doorway, her voice shrill and ruthless. "If she gets to the main control panel, she’ll lock us out! Finish it now, Sam!"

I struggled fiercely, kicking and biting, but I was exhausted from working outside in the extreme heat. I looked up through my blurred vision and saw my husband, Sam.

He was holding a long, heavy iron pipe—an old, rusted piece of construction steel he had picked up from the corner of the room. His face was cold, devoid of any love or remorse.

"You should have just kept your head down, Freya," Sam said coldly. "You were always too smart for your own good."

"Sam... please..." I choked out.

Sam raised the heavy iron pipe high over his head and swung it down with all his strength.

*CRACK!*

A blinding white explosion of light burst behind my eyes. The sound of my own skull fracturing echoed inside my brain like a church bell ringing. Pain, pure, unimaginable agony—raced through every nerve in my body.

"Again!" Belinda yelled, holding my legs tight. "Make sure she's dead!"

*CRACK!*

Another strike smashed into my temple. Blood flooded into my eyes, turning my vision dark crimson. I couldn't feel my body anymore, but I could still hear their voices.

"Is she breathing?" Deborah asked, breathless and greedy. "Check her pocket! Get the master key card!"

"She's gone," Sam panted, dropping the bloody iron pipe onto the floor. "Grab her arms. Drag her to the courtyard airlock. Dump her into the Rust storm. The heat and the metal dust will destroy her body in an hour. No one will ever know."

I felt my lifeless body being dragged across the cold floor. The airlock door opened, and a blast of scorching, 120-degree wind blew over my face. They unceremoniously threw my body onto the burning grey dust of the courtyard.

The heavy steel door slammed shut behind me.

As the scorching sun burned my flesh and the metallic dust filled my open wounds, I laid in the dirt, dying. I hated them. I hated Sam, Madison, Belinda, and Deborah with every drop of my fading soul. If I had one more chance... just one more chance... I would make them bleed until they begged for death.

The world went completely black.

*DONG!*

A violent, metallic sound exploded inside my skull, ringing like a smashed iron anvil.

I gasped violently, bolting upright in my chair as my lungs gulped in cool, clean air. My heart pounded furiously against my ribs. Shaking, frantic hands flew up to touch my forehead.

No blood. No shattered bone. No iron pipe.

*【System online. Rebirth timeline calibrated. Welcome back, Host Freya Diamond.】*

I froze, my eyes widening in sheer shock. The voice did not come from outside. It was echoing directly inside my head—sharp, metallic, and cold as ice.

*【Rebirth Anchor locked: May 14, 2024. Exactly 30 days before the Solar Rust catastrophe. Phantom damage detected in cranial section—retained as permanent tactical reminder.】*

I looked around the room, trembling. I was not in the burning courtyard. I was sitting in my high-backed leather chair inside my bright, air-conditioned office. Soft, cool sunlight poured through the glass window behind me. On the wooden desk sat a digital calendar glowing in blue numbers: **MAY 14, 2024. 10:24AM.**

"A... voice?" I whispered aloud, clutching my throbbing temples as the faint metallic hum vibrated deep inside my brain. "Am I losing my mind?"

*【Negative. You died in the burning dust after being brutally struck with a rusted iron pipe by Sam, held down by Belinda and Deborah, and betrayed by Madison. Your hatred was strong enough to trigger the Apocalypse Sovereign Protocol. I am your mental guide.】*

The memory of the pipe smashing into my head flashed behind my eyes, making my blood run hot with vengeance.

"Thirty days," I murmured, my voice dropping to a icy whisper. "I have thirty days before the heat and metal dust destroy everything."

*【Correct, Host Freya. Your objectives are clear: hoard vital survival resources, revoke all access granted to your murderers, and prepare the ultimate cage for their downfall. Will you seek weak forgiveness, or absolute retribution?】*

I stared at the calendar, feeling the phantom pain in my skull turn into a sharp, thrilling focus.

"Forgiveness?" I let out a low, cold laugh, a ruthless smile spreading across my face. "They smashed my skull and threw me into the Rust storm to rot. I'm going to make every single one of them beg to die."

*【Target locked. Retribution protocol activated. Let us begin, Freya.】*