FAZER LOGIN
"Look out!"
Felicity’s foot caught the lip of the curb, pitching her forward toward the busy street.
Before she hit the asphalt, a firm hand yanked her back by the shoulder.
"Hey! Are you alright?" a stranger asked, his voice full of concern.
Felicity didn't answer.
Her lungs burned as she sucked in ragged, shuddering breaths.
Cold sweat coated her neck, and her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She blinked hard, eyes darting around.
Bright sunlight stung her retinas.
Green leaves fluttered on trees lining the sidewalk, and clean cars zoomed past, glinting in the morning sun.
‘Where are the screams? Where is the smell of rotting flesh and burning rubber?’
"Miss? Do you need to sit down?"
Passersby paused, whispering and staring at her flushed face.
She was standing at the busy crossroad near her neighborhood.
Suddenly, a memory tore through her mind like jagged glass:
Cold steel binding her wrists.
The sneering, cruel face of her twin sister, Phoebe.
The cold, indifferent eyes of her boyfriend, Mack.
They stood together inside the warm, barricaded house, the very house Felicity had chosen and fortified.
Mack grabbed her arm, shoving her toward the armed scavengers from the northern base, while Phoebe clutched a crate of canned meat and medicine, laughing in her face.
"Thanks for keeping us fed, sister," Phoebe mocked.
The heavy iron gates of the enemy compound slammed shut behind Felicity, sealing her fate as a trade-off for supplies.
Felicity gasped, slapping a hand over her racing heart.
The agony of that betrayal, the bitter cold, the gnawing hunger, it was all so vivid, so sickeningly real.
She looked down at her hands.
They were smooth, soft, and unscarred.
There were no dirt caked her fingernails and no jagged marks from zombie teeth or barbed wire lined her forearms.
She checked her clothes: a clean, neatly pressed blouse and tailored trousers.
This was the exact outfit she had worn the day she took a leave of absence from her corporate job, the day she decided to head home early to see Phoebe, right before their lawyer called about their uncle's inheritance.
I'm back... I really came back!
Without a word to the stranger or the gathering onlookers, Felicity spun on her heel and sprinted straight for her apartment building.
"Hey! Miss, wait!" the man called out, bewildered.
She didn't look back. She burst through the lobby, scrambled up the stairs, and threw herself inside her flat.
She slammed the door shut, turned the deadbolt, and collapsed back against the wood, her chest heaving.
Hands trembling, she pulled out her smartphone.
The screen read: March 14, 2029. 10:15 a.m.
A week.
Exactly one week before the global outbreak hit, plunging humanity into a cannibalistic nightmare.
A cold, sharp smile formed on Felicity's lips, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks.
In her previous life, she had chosen the spacious suburban house, believing it was the ultimate safe haven, while Phoebe took their uncle's custom commercial van.
But that house became the fortress her own sister and lover used to betray her.
Not this time.
Ding. Ding.
, The screen displayed caller ID: Lawyer Vexn.
Felicity took a deep, steadying breath, wiped her face, and answered.
"Felicity?" the smooth voice of the executor came through. "I'm calling regarding your late uncle's estate. As per his final will, he left two major assets for you and your twin sister, Phoebe, to divide evenly: the two-story suburban home on Oak Ridge, and the heavy-duty commercial van in his garage. Since you two need to sign the paperwork today, have you decided who gets what?"
Felicity gripped the phone, her voice dropping to a calm, icy whisper.
"Have you contacted my sister yet?"
"Yes, miss. She already made her choice. Could you come by as soon as possible?"
Felicity's eyes narrowed.
‘Made her choice?’
According to her memory, her sister had dragged her feet because she couldn't decide which asset to take.
"I will be right there," Felicity said, ending the call.
She stared at the dark screen as anger washed over her, her fists clenching until her nails bit into her palms.
The memory of Phoebe’s cruel laughter rang in her ears.
‘She took everything from me. My home, my trust, my life.’
A tremor passed through her body, but after a long moment, Felicity closed her eyes and let out a slow sigh.
She forced the heat of her anger back down, burying it deep beneath a layer of ice.
Panic and fury wouldn't help her now. Only cold strategy would.
"Calm down, Felicity," she whispered, opening her eyes. "Let them play their game."
She grabbed her handbag, smoothed down her blouse, and headed back out.
Twenty minutes later, Felicity stepped out of a cab in front of Lawyer Vexn's quiet legal offices.
Inside, her heels tapped softly against the polished tile floor.
As she approached the door labeled Conference Room B, hushed, heated voices caught her attention.
Felicity paused outside the cracked wooden door, stepping into the shadow of the hallway.
"Are you completely insane, Phoebe?!" Mack’s frustrated voice hissed. "Pick the van! It’s a custom-built, heavy-duty commercial model with reinforced plating. It's worth way more than that old house! We can sell it, or we can use it to travel whenever we want!"
"No! Shut up, Mack, you don't understand!" Phoebe fired back, her voice sharp and panicked. "We are keeping the suburban house! I don't care about the van's price tag. We need that house, and we need to fortify it immediately!"
"Fortify it? For what?!" Mack grunted. "It's just a house! Why are you acting so unhinged today? Why are you suddenly obsessed with brick walls and fence height?"
"Because I said so!" Phoebe snapped. "I am choosing the house today. Felicity can take that damn van for all I care. She's going to take it whether she likes it or not!"
Standing outside in the hallway, Felicity felt a chill run down her spine.
Her eyes narrowed to thin slits.
Phoebe wasn't just being stubborn, she was terrified.
She knew about the house's strength. She knew about fortifying it. She knew the exact timeline.
Felicity’s lips curved into a dark, silent smirk.
Phoebe was reborn too.
Tristan’s easy smile softened, turning into a quieter, more grounded expression. He swirled the remaining coffee in his mug, staring down at the dark liquid for a brief second before looking back up at her."I spent six years in special operations, Felicity," Tristan said softly, his voice dropping into that calm, commanding register he used when things got serious. "About eight months ago, before I officially stepped down, high-level intelligence started circulating quiet reports across global defense networks.”“A strange, aggressive neurological pathogen had popped up in isolated underground facilities overseas. The higher-ups called it a 'hypothetical threat,' but the bio-warfare protocols they were drafting suggested otherwise. It was a dark theory, but a very real one."Felicity listened closely, her mind piecing together the timeline."I built the van months ago as a contingency," Tristan continued, a low, smooth chuckle escaping his throat as he gestured toward her. "I kept m
"Felicity, listen to me—""You didn't call out of care," Felicity continued, stepping toward her van's open window and looking out into the dark, quiet forest. "You called because neither you nor Mack know how to handle real work. You want me in that house so I can do the cooking, clean up your mess, manage your food, and keep guard while you two hide upstairs."Phoebe let out a sharp, choked gasp. "W-What are you talking about?! We're family! You're the capable one, Felicity! You're supposed to help us!”"You chose the house, Phoebe," Felicity sneered, her eyes gleaming with icy satisfaction. "You begged for it. You wanted that big two-story home so badly, so go enjoy it. Cook your own meals. Clean your own space. Protect your own life. Because I am never, ever coming to save you.""Wait! Felicity, don't hang up! FELICITY—"Felicity pressed the red button, cutting Phoebe's shrieks off mid-sentence.Without missing a beat, she blocked Phoebe's number right next to Mack's, tossed the
Felicity stared at the vibrating screen, her eyes narrowing into cold, sharp slits.Why is he calling me now?In her past life, Mack hadn't bothered to check on her once the chaos began; he had already been cooped up inside the house with Phoebe, enjoying the fruits of Felicity's labor.But this time, everything had shifted. She hadn't spent the week waiting on him or sweet-talking him, and she certainly hadn't invited him into her space.Tristan’s dark eyes lingered on the flashing phone for a moment longer. Recognizing the shift in her focus, he clicked his tongue softly, stepped back from her window, and turned on his heel without a word. He retreated toward his own van, respecting her privacy while making his disdain for Mack painfully clear.Felicity picked up the phone, slid her thumb across the glass, and brought it to her ear. She didn't say a word, letting the heavy silence hang over the line."Felicity?! Where the hell are you?!"Mack’s voice blasted through the speaker,
Deciding to brush him off for now, Felicity unlocked the small door leading to her built-in bathroom cubicle. Thanks to her uncle's high-end motorhome design, the van was equipped with a compact shower stall fed by a pressurized clean water tank. And with her sanctuary domain stocked to the brim with extra water reserves, she never had to worry about running dry.She stripped off her sweat-stained clothes and stepped under the showerhead. The warm water washed away the dust, grime, and tension of the chaotic day, leaving her skin fresh and her mind clear.Once finished, she dried off, pulled on a comfortable pair of black tactical cargo pants and a soft dark hoodie, and stepped back into the living space of the van.She walked over to the built-in bed, tossed her smartphone onto the mattress, and climbed up. Sitting cross-legged on the clean sheets, she unlocked the screen to check the news and social media feeds.The display illuminated her face in the dark cab. The moment her c
Felicity was about to put the key in the ignition when she froze.‘Wait. The safety mechanisms.’She realized she had completely forgotten to ask the arms dealer about the custom modifications on the heavy assault rifles and the maintenance kits for the sidearms. Using weapons without knowing their specific wear and tear limits in a long, drawn-out outbreak could prove fatal.Unlocking her door, she hurried back down the dark steps into the basement armory.The tattooed dealer looked up, surprised to see her back so quickly. "Forget something, lady?""The custom safety pins and maintenance kits for those rifles," Felicity said sharply, her eyes scanning his counter. "How often do these modifications require barrel cleaning? And are these firing pins compatible with standard military ammo?"The dealer grunted, leaning over to give her the quick, technical details on the gear.As he spoke, a sudden, heavy pressure dropped in the room. The temperature plunged within seconds, and a stra
Two hours later, the final forklift backed away.Nearly three-quarters of the massive Harrison wholesale warehouse had been completely drained. Hundreds of crates of canned beans, preserved pork, bags of rice, flour, sugar, salt, commercial water filtration units, batteries, solar lamps, and medical gear were now neatly organized inside her infinite space, totally fresh and preserved.Mr. Harrison walked out of his office, looking at his nearly empty warehouse floor with wide, gleaming eyes. He wiped his hands on his apron and beamed at Felicity, handing her the final receipt copy."Miss Felicity, you are without a doubt my most valued client!" Mr. Harrison chuckled, shaking her hand warmly. "Your company single-handedly cleared out my inventory for the quarter! I'll have the invoice sent over to your accounting head by Friday as usual.""Thank you for the quick service, Mr. Harrison," Felicity said with a polite nod, taking the paper and slipping into the driver's seat."Have a gre







