Nouvelles Mind-Bending & Romans Bias Regret

When the heat wave hit, I was working at the National Weather Service and was the first to spot the climate irregularities. I warned my family to get ready ahead of time. My parents trusted me without question. They even proposed starting a "family survival fund." They told me to use the savings I'd built up since graduating to stock up on supplies, promising that they and my little sister would chip in every dollar they had too. If we were going to make it, we had to stick together as a family. I smiled. "Sure. I'll take care of the plans." That same night, I converted every penny into gold and locked it in a safe. I also went all out into building an apocalypse-proof bunker. When doomsday finally came, they showed up demanding the money we'd pooled together. "Hand over all the gold," they said coldly. "A deadweight like you is just wasting resources by staying alive." Smiling, I tossed them the safe with the gold inside, then sealed the bunker, locking them out completely. Laughing triumphantly, they opened the safe… and stared in shock at what they saw inside.

When I got pregnant, I was about to inform my parents about the good news. Suddenly, the baby in my belly cried for help. “Mom, please don’t! Grandpa and Grandma favor boys over girls. If they know that I’m a girl, they will definitely poison you to abort me!” I turned off my phone with doubts, and I was worried that the news of my pregnancy would be leaked. But a fire broke out at my house, and I missed 99 calls from my parents. I was grieved and heartbroken, and my husband went through the darkest time with me. When I was getting back on my feet, the baby’s voice echoed again. “Mom, you’re so pitiful. Dad is dating his mistress in the company, and all he feels for you is just guiltiness.” I instantly felt flustered. Without thinking more, I just rushed inside my husband’s company to catch the cheaters. Unexpectedly, I just blew up a company contract worth over a hundred million. My husband was very disappointed in me. He took a divorce paper and forced me to sign. I desperately tried to keep him, but I heard the baby’s voice again. “Dad hates women who wouldn’t let go. Mom, if you let go of him in time and leave with nothing, Dad will come and cry to beg you to go back some time later!” In the end, I chose to listen to my baby. But I was broke and homeless, and I just slept on the streets at night. My husband, Liam Grant, immediately married a girl who looked like me. At their wedding, he blamed me for leaving him so heartlessly. I cried and wanted to go back to Liam, but a truck that ran a red light ran over me and crushed me into nothing. In the end, I died with my eyes open. Before I died, I vaguely heard the baby’s prideful laugh. When I opened my eyes again, I went back to the day when I found out my pregnancy.

At my eighteenth birthday celebration, my cousin gave me a half-scratched lottery ticket as a coming-of-age gift. When he realized I'd won twenty dollars, he suddenly demanded to buy the ticket from me for two hundred thousand. Something about it felt wrong, and I refused. Then he snapped. Like a man gone mad, he cursed me, wishing me dead, and in front of all the guests, shoved me off the balcony. Dozens of people watched, including my own parents, silently condoning him—joining in, shouting that I deserved to die. And then I opened my eyes… and I was back half an hour earlier. My cousin sneered, tossing the lottery ticket toward me, speaking the same familiar words.

After Mom stabbed Aunt Serena and was sent to prison, Aunt Serena became our new mother. The same Serena who used to “wrestle” with Dad in bed every afternoon at three o’clock. Everyone praised her for being kind and virtuous. They said she treated her husband’s children from his first marriage as if they were her own. She was practically the perfect stepmother. I believed them too. So when she told me there was a way to get to heaven and see Mom again, I believed her. I even carried along the baby brother she had just given birth to. And together, we followed her lie all the way to heaven.

At 2:00 am, after a passionate night with my girlfriend, I casually drop a selfie into a WhatsApp group chat with my buddies. The chat blows up instantly. Mack Slater: "Damn, Harv. Those hickeys on your neck are kinda artistic." Keith Oldman: "Ivory's back for Embercoil Solstice, huh? I bet you two went wild tonight." I stare at the screen, feeling smug. Then Will Anderson, who hasn't said anything so far, suddenly tags me in the group and sends a creepy message. "You're in trouble. Those aren't hickeys on your neck. They're marks left by a drowned wraith looking for a substitute!" My hands are trembling as I clutch my phone.