The Cosmic Imagination Novels & Stories

On a stormy night during the apocalypse, my own mother threw me out of the house while I was burning with fever, along with my husky, so my little brother would have a better chance of surviving. She shouted through the crack in the door, “Take that useless mutt and go die somewhere. Stop wasting your brother’s food!” I huddled in a pile of trash with my dog in my arms, convinced I was going to die. Then my husky suddenly spoke. “Host’s vital signs critically low. Infinite Supply Search System activated.” “Supermarket warehouse one hundred meters ahead. Three thousand freeze-dried meals detected.” “Pharmacy five hundred meters to the left. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected.” Three days later, I’d built a fortress with packs of dogs and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating steak and watching the show. Outside the barbed wire, my mother and brother were on their knees, fighting each other over half a piece of moldy bread. I smiled. “Mom, even dogs wouldn’t eat that. Better savor it.”

I've transmigrated into a world where people will die if they don't cheat on their partners. The system tells me that I need to carry out the entire plot before I can finally go home. So, I play the role of a good wife during the day and carry out my duties as a great "friend" at night. I'm a master when it comes to time management. When I finally reach the end of the plot, I break up with my side piece, Xavier Dawson, first. Xavier bursts into tears instantly. "I don't mind the fact that you have a husband, yet your husband minds you having a side piece! Can't you tell who here loves you even more?" Left without a choice, I decide to file for a divorce from my husband, Rafael Cortez. Rafael gets mad at me this time. "You cheating on me is purely business between you and your side piece! How is this related to me? Why must I be involved in your business?" Heh! If not for the fact that I know both Xavier and Rafael have a first love each, I might have believed their lies!

I'm infamous for being the stupidest student in the entire school. Even though I've been doing additional revisions till late night every day, I keep getting the lowest rank consistently in exams. On the other hand, my younger sister, Mia Lawson, doesn't study at all. Yet, she always comes up as the top of her grade every time. Our parents soon call her as the Math Prodigy. Because of that, I'm forced to live in the attic, which leaks all the time during rainy days. My table lamp gets smashed into pieces as well since I shouldn't be wasting power if I can't cram any knowledge into my brain. My parents also force me to drop out of school and start working at a young age. They claim that losers should stick to their paths and do what they do best. But at the same time, they don't hesitate to drop a grand sum of money just to enroll Mia into a class based on the Arithmetiad. There's a time when I contract a high fever that makes me all woozy and my consciousness all blurry. Because of my illness, I randomly draw an incorrect construction line on a draft paper. The next day, the line actually appears on Mia's exam paper, pixel by pixel. That's when realization dawns on me immediately. Before the day the National Arithmetiad is set to be streamed live in front of the entire nation, I opt to not solve any difficult questions. Instead, I lock my room door and keep telling myself in front of the mirror that the greatest mathematical equation in this world is 1+1=3.

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

"I'll cut to the chase. I'm the villainess in this story." Everyone in this wealthy, elite family adored my poor, fragile adopted sister. My older brother Damien would snap, "Don't scare Bella. Her weak heart can't take it." My other brother, Magnus, would add, "Lend Bella your nightgown, all right? It's wasted on you." Even my fiancé said, "This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. My true love has always been Bella." In my last life, I humbled myself endlessly to please them. What did I receive in return? They sent me to a mental asylum and I died in agony. Then I came back to life on the day of my engagement party. A voice echoed in my mind and made its announcement. [The Madness Reward System has chosen you, Marceline Blanc. Any unhinged behavior will earn rewards worth hundreds of millions of dollars.] I grinned and sent the pompous, ten-tier cake crashing to the floor. "I'm done with this shitty family. Goodbye, you miserable bastards."

When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately went to buy abortion pills. When I decided to take the pills, I could hear my unborn son’s heartbeat. [Mom, please don’t abort me! I can bring you fortune!] [My dad is super rich. He loves simping and chasing women.] [He goes after innocent and strong-willed women. He gives away gifts freely, but the women usually would throw them away. I know where these thrown away gifts are!] I thought I must be crazy. I hurriedly swallowed the pills and drank water. [Several hundred grams of gold! The latest handphone! Tens of millions of jewelry! What’s more…] I gagged and spat out the pills into the trashbin next to my feet. “Where are they? Tell me now!"

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

In my previous life, everyone in my family could hear my mother's inner thoughts. I managed to land a new job. The pay was high, and the benefits were great. Instead of being happy for me, she was deeply anxious. She thought, "With her education and her abilities, how could she possibly get a job like that? She must've slept her way to it." After my father heard that, he refused to let me go to work. He stormed into my workplace, made a huge scene, and got me fired. I was furious and decided to move out for a while and stay at my boyfriend's place. On the surface, my mother supported my decision. Deep down, however, she was desperately trying to stop me. She thought, "What should I do? That boyfriend of hers has been married for years. He even has a child. She's someone's mistress. "If she really moves in, that man's wife will surely have a go at her. She'll embarrass the rest of us!" To keep me from leaving, my younger brother broke both my legs with a stick. Then, they locked me inside the house and leave me to suffer on my own. My wounds festered and became infected. I begged them to take me to the hospital, but my mother sighed inwardly, thinking, "She's so rebellious. No matter what anyone says, she insists on leaving this family. "In truth, there's nothing wrong with her legs at all. Once she gets to the hospital, she'll definitely escape." After that, everyone ignored my pleas and left me to die in agony. Even at the very end, I never knew who was to blame for my death. When I open my eyes again now, I realize that I, too, can hear my mother's inner thoughts.

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

I was the prime suspect in the notorious murder of my parents-in-law in Cardinal City. The one who arrested me was my wife—Linda Reese, the police chief. While the verdict was still pending, the killer struck again. The new victim was murdered with the same savage cruelty. Linda knelt before me, begging me to tell her the truth. I told her I didn’t know. The victims’ families screamed, demanding that I be carved into pieces. Three months later, Linda found me beside a garbage bin, bringing with her a memory-decoding device. Her hands trembled as she pressed two thin needles into my temples. “I’m sorry, Finn. I know you’re not the killer. I just want this slaughter to end. I don’t want anyone else to die. Let everyone see your memories—let them see what really happened back then.” But when she finished watching my memories, she collapsed to the ground, utterly broken, and fell to her knees.