LOGINVera fought for her life in the apocalypse for ten years. Ten brutal years left her disfigured, hungry, and almost broken, but she still clawed her way through it. She killed zombies, ran from mutated animals, starved, bled, and learned humans were often more dangerous than monsters. Then her brother, the only family she had left, betrayed her. Vera thought death had finally come. Instead, she woke up inside a trashy book she once read to stay sane while the old world fell apart. A book with a twisted plot and too much drama. And because her luck had always been terrible, Vera did not wake up as the heroine. No, of course not. Her second chance was to become the hated second female lead, pregnant, unwanted, and written to die when the plot no longer needed her. Her babies were supposed to die too. Even the three men who got her pregnant were written as future corpses, all to push the story toward spoiled women and one psychotic male lead. But Vera was not the woman from the book. She had survived one ruined world. She had not walked through radioactive rain and eaten mutated food just to cry over fantasy characters or beg for love inside a stupid plot. So Vera adapted. She accepted her punishment, took her three unborn babies, and left for the garbage center without making a scene. Everyone thought she had been thrown away. Vera saw a chance to make money, protect her babies, and build something of her own. Now the woman meant to disappear is building a wasteland empire, breaking the plot, and driving three men insane because she no longer chases anyone. By every rule in that world, Vera should be dead. But dying a second time was never an option.
View More“Silence.”
The judge’s voice cracked through the courtroom, and the room that had been drowning in chaos finally quieted down. The screens above the walls still flashed with live comments, public votes, and case summaries, but the actual room went still enough for every breath to sound too loud. The defendant sat inside the enclosed cage in the center of the courtroom, her eyes closed, both hands resting over her round belly as if the entire court, the cameras, the angry lawyers, and the noble families watching from the upper balconies were nothing more than background noise she had already grown tired of hearing.
Three lawyers and their representatives from the plaintiff’s side stood in front of the judge’s bench, still half-turned toward one another like they wanted to keep fighting even after being ordered to shut up. They had spent hours yelling over each other, not because they disagreed on Vera Ross’s guilt, but because each side wanted the harshest punishment attached to its own client’s name.
Vera Ross, a human girl who somehow ended up in the same room with three powerful males during their heat, had become the center of the biggest scandal in the galaxy. The official story was simple enough for the public to swallow: she entered the room, drugged them, took advantage of them, and walked away pregnant with their babies. The part everyone kept avoiding was how a tiny human waitress was supposed to overpower a dragon prince, a high lord, and a war general in one night.
The evidence they presented painted Vera as a virtuous woman before the incident, which only made the courtroom more restless. She had no criminal record, no connections, no known family power, no money trail, no access to rare heat suppressants or stimulants, and no reason to be standing in front of three noble houses unless someone had thrown her there.
The real problem was that Vera was not actually Vera to begin with. She had been sent into this body a week ago, dropped straight into a mess that already had claws around her throat, and now she was expected to play along with laws, titles, and noble pride she barely cared about.
In reality, Vera had no real complaints. The situation was far from ideal, yes, and waking up heavily pregnant in another woman’s body while three powerful men tried to erase their responsibility was not exactly a dream, but compared to where she came from, this was still a better outcome. Her old world had been fully destroyed. People fought for the last drops of water. Pollution had poisoned the sky, the soil, and half the things still breathing. Zombies had taken over entire cities, and the ones who remained human were often worse. Everyone betrayed everyone eventually, and the idea of a simple life, a quiet home, or children who could grow up without learning how to kill before they learned how to read had become impossible.
Vera had been one of the survivors who had to grind harder, hunt harder, and cut more heads than anyone around her just to stay alive. She had never received an ability. Her body had never mutated into anything useful. By the end, she barely looked human at all, all sharp bones, old scars, sunken cheeks, and eyes that had seen too much rot to believe in mercy. Still, she had stayed alive until betrayal finally caught her by the throat. That part was not new either. Betrayal had been as common as breathing where she came from, but it still hurt to know her own brother had been the one to send her to her death.
The noise in the courtroom continued rising again, soft at first, then louder as the lawyers began arguing with each other in clipped voices. The prince’s side accused the lord’s side of using this trial to attack the royal bloodline. The lord’s representatives snapped back about damaged reputation and sacred blood rights. The general’s lawyer spoke over both of them, demanding the court recognize military distress, battlefield trauma, and the humiliation of a decorated commander. Vera listened with her eyes closed, her fingers still over her belly, feeling the babies shift under her palm while grown adults screamed about honor like honor could feed children or keep them safe.
“Are we going to finish this?” Vera finally asked, opening her eyes.
Her voice was not loud, but it cut through the room better than the judge’s command had. The lawyers stopped mid-argument and turned toward her. Vera’s gaze was cold and ruthless, the stare of someone who had not only seen death but had walked beside it long enough to stop being impressed. To those who had never seen a look like that on a human woman’s face, it was frightening. She was small, too thin for someone carrying three children, and sitting in a cage built for violent criminals, but her eyes made several people in the room lean back without noticing.
[That woman is definitely guilty.]
[Look at her eyes. No innocent person looks like that.]
“What do you mean?” one of the lawyers snapped, his face red from yelling. “You are guilty. You took advantage of my client’s heat and drugged him.”
“Same here, Your Honor. Look at her,” the second lawyer said, pointing at Vera as if her sitting calmly was proof of something. “She shows no remorse.”
“My client suffered great distress, Your Honor,” the third lawyer added, his voice lower but just as sharp. “The court must consider the damage done to his reputation, command authority, and mental state.”
Vera stared at them for a long second, then started laughing. It came out dry and ugly, not sweet, not nervous, not apologetic. It was the laugh of a woman who had heard men say stupid things in every world she had ever lived in and still somehow managed to be disappointed by the creativity of their cowardice.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Okay, Your Honor, here is the deal,” Vera said, leaning back against the chair inside the cage. “This courtroom is so noisy that I would rather sign whatever paper says I am guilty and be done with it. First, I have no money, and I am not sure what all of you are yelling about because I know you checked my records. Second, I have no money now, and I had no money back then. Even if I drugged them, where exactly did I get the drugs from? I was a mere human working as a waitress in that damn restaurant. It was my first day of work. Third, and most important, who took advantage of whom?”
The room froze as she lifted one hand from her belly and pointed directly at the first lawyer.
“Your prince is a goddamn dragon, two heads taller than I am and twice my size. How was I supposed to fight him off?”
The first lawyer opened his mouth, but nothing came out fast enough. His representatives shifted behind him, their polished clothes and expensive jewelry suddenly looking very useless under the attention of the cameras. Vera did not wait for them to recover. She turned her finger toward the second lawyer, her face calm in a way that made the calm worse.
“Now you. Your lord has magical abilities and the same build as the crown prince. Are you telling this court that I, a mere human, had enough strength, magic, money, and planning to trap him, drug him, and force him while he could have snapped my neck with one hand?”
The second lawyer’s jaw tightened. Somewhere in the room, someone inhaled too sharply. Vera saw the shift begin. People who had been watching her like a monster were now looking at the men’s side of the courtroom, then back at her body, then at the cage. Common sense was finally crawling into the room, slow and embarrassed, but at least it had arrived.
“And you,” Vera continued, pointing at the last lawyer. “Your client is a general. Stronger than the other two, according to half the articles your own side submitted to praise his honor and ability. He has survived wars, assassins, border raids, and whatever else you people brag about when it is convenient. But now I am supposed to believe he was helpless because a broke human waitress with no magic looked at him too hard?”
The public screens flickered faster as the comments exploded.
[Wait, she is right.]
[How did she drug THREE of them?]
[Did anyone explain where she got the drugs?]
[Why does she not have a lawyer?]
The old man did not argue, mostly because he had no idea what to argue with. He still could not understand why this girl was here, why she was smiling, or why a pregnant woman who had just been sentenced to exile spoke about poisoned land like someone had handed her a gift wrapped in a bow. His grandson stood beside him with the jug held tightly in both hands, looking between Vera, the dead bodies behind them, and the dark stretch of land ahead like he was trying to decide if she was a blessing, a monster, or both.Then the old man paused because his head felt clear.That alone nearly shook him more than the dead attackers. He knew his mental level had been collapsing. He had felt the red madness crawling behind his eyes, scratching at his thoughts, pushing him closer to the point where he would forget faces, names, words, and eventually even the child standing beside him. But the water she gave him had pulled that pressure back. Not fully, not forever maybe, but enough for him to thi
She looked up at the last attacker and smiled.On any normal day, Vera should not have looked dangerous at all. She was barely five feet tall, dressed in a white dress that had no business being on a garbage planet, with skinny arms, thin legs, and a belly heavy with three babies. But now the white dress was soaked and splattered with blood, her hair stuck to her face, her machete hung loose in one hand, and the ground around her was covered with bodies that had been alive less than a minute ago. She looked too small for the damage she had caused, and that made the sight worse. She did not look like a woman who had survived an attack. She looked like a demon who had been interrupted during dinner and was deciding whether the last person standing was worth the effort.“Do you want to test me?” Vera asked, her smile widening just enough to show him she would not mind if he made the wrong choice.“No,” the bandit said, staggering back.His red eyes flickered with the first clear spark o
Mutated humans were not that clean. Their powers came apart inside their bodies and rebuilt them wrong. Some grew bone plates through their skin, some leaked acid from their mouths, some could jump from walls with twisted legs, some screamed loud enough to burst eardrums, and some still remembered just enough words to beg right before their hands tried to rip your throat out. Vera had learned early that pity got you killed with those things. You did not talk. You did not wait. You cut tendons first if they were fast, broke the jaw if they could scream, took the eyes if they had ranged powers, and then finished the neck before the body figured out how to keep moving. If the head stayed attached too long, they adapted. If the spine was not broken, they crawled. If one hand remained free, they grabbed. So Vera had learned to be clean, fast, and mean enough to live.So at the end of the day, there was only one outcome here. Death. They did not have compassion left, and Vera was going to
“Ahh, this is amazing,” Vera said, stretching her arms above her head while the guard stared at her like she had lost her mind. “My paradise.”She started walking, and the farther she moved from the border line, the better she felt. Of course, no one in the galaxy with a working survival instinct would willingly step on this planet. Even the people who sent mentally collapsed citizens, beasts, criminals, and unwanted bloodlines here would never place their own polished boots on this ground. But if they did, if they stopped wrinkling their noses at the garbage long enough to feel the pulse under the dirt, they would understand this land was not dead at all. This sector healed. The air here was preserved, the soil was rich under all the waste, and with time, it could become much better than anything the galaxy imagined. Vera smiled again, though calling it a smile was not fully fair. She was grinning from ear to ear. Who would not? This place might have been called a garbage sector,
The lights pressed closer. Vera held them for a long moment and let herself be gentle because here, no one could see it and mistake it for weakness. The apocalypse on Earth had made her cold because being kind got people killed. Trust did the same. She had watched good people die first, generous pe
Vera sat inside the space car and finally let her shoulders drop. The guard had brought her water and a small snack, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. To him, this whole situation was ridiculous. He and his wife had spent every saving they had just to nurture one child from a tube, and those
The judge stared at her for half a second longer than necessary before sending his secretary to finalize the paperwork. He already felt beaten down by the situation. He could have given her a less harsh sentence if she had fought him. He could have delayed the case, ordered proper defense, demanded
“Your Honor, I do not have all day,” Vera said, her voice cutting through the courtroom before the lawyers could start another round of barking at each other. She kept one hand under her belly and the other pressed against the side of her cage, not because she needed support from fear, but because
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