"Doctor Sienna, how is it? Are you done with the novel?" a woman's curious voice called out as she stepped into the white sterile office, her lab coat fluttering behind her.
Sienna adjusted her thin-framed glasses and tossed the phone onto the desk. Her tone was crisp and slightly cold. "Not done. And I wouldn't read it again."
"Ahhh, why?" asked Pearl, her coworker and fellow researcher, a frown forming on her face. She had stumbled across the novel online – drawn in only because a side character happened to share Sienna's full name. Not every day do you see a character sharing your full name, so Pearl had recommended the novel to Sienna, and the latter said she would read it.
Sienna shook her head slightly. "She's the typical textbook cannon fodder. Weak-willed, foolish, constantly making the worst decisions. Moreover, her obsession with the male lead was just absurd and the beginning of all her stupid mistakes." She waved her hand in dismissal. "I don't need to feel secondhand embarrassment after ten hours in the lab."
Pearl chuckled. "Fine, fine. You're right. Compared to you, she's barely a shadow."
And she was right.
At just twenty-six, Sienna Song, or rather, Lieutenant Colonel Doctor Sienna Song – dubbed "Scalpel Ghost" by her peers for her near-invisible incisions and cold precision – had already achieved feats that left even senior officers in awe.
When she was 22, she performed her first open-brain surgery in a helicopter mid-evac, and when she turned 23, she successfully developed a cure for the pandemic virus that had killed hundreds of thousands. Not only that, she excelled in many fields, including bioweapon research. And by the time she turned 25, she directly won two Nobel Prizes for her innovations.
One could safely say she was akin to a 'god' in their field.
Pearl placed a document on the table, ready to say something when Sienna suddenly frowned, springing up from her seat. "Did you feel—"
BOOM.
No one had any time to react. None.
A white-hot explosion ripped through the secret laboratory.
The lights shattered.
The reinforced walls bent like paper.
Time seemed to slow at this moment.
Sienna was thrown against the ceiling then smashed into the ground. The last sight she saw was the screen of her phone – glowing golden in a prism shape – so bright and blinding, then the text on the screen floated out before swallowing her whole.
–––
The room was well-furnished, appearing cozy and luxurious at first glance. Velvet pink curtains framed the tall windows, fluttering slightly as they were caressed by the breeze. A glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals catching the glow, giving the room an expensive look. On several couches sat stuffed animal — so many of them the place appeared to be for the toys rather than a human.
A young girl slept peacefully on the king-sized bed. Her face was rosy pink, her eyelashes like tiny wings, casting a shadow under her eyes. Her charming red lips were slightly parted, her breathing even and light, and a bed of black hair fanned out around her.
The scene looked like a painting – one no one should dare disturb.
But at this point, an extremely beautiful white cat the color of snow nimbly jumped on the bed.
"Meow~ Meow~" she purred softly, touching her owner's face with soft paws and kneading gently, as if trying to wake her up.
The young girl's eyes suddenly snapped open, filled with extreme coldness that seemed capable of slicing the air.
The cat's meow paused and she retracted her paws, a hint of fear appearing in those black orbs.
The girl slowly sat up, her expression alert, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Where am I?" Her voice was soft but hoarse, and her well-defined brows knitted with a frown as she held her head; a sharp headache knocking through her skull, making her brows furrowed even tighter.
Sienna suddenly remembered what happened, and her face paled slightly. "The experiment failed." Her heart ached.
No doubt, her colleagues had perished, because she clearly remembered seeing the one closest to her being flung against the wall. She definitely wouldn't have survived such a hit.
But what about her…?
Her gaze deepened as she recalled the last scene she saw… texts floating on the screen… then wrapping around her like a cocoon… and right now… she somehow was still alive. Still breathing.
Something was wrong.
She looked at the room again, studying everything.
Lavish. Pink. Feminine. Stuffed toys.
Her heart raced, a conjecture forming in her mind.
Sienna didn't want to believe it.
She really didn't want to.
Until a soft meow reached her ears.
She glanced at the little white cat, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.
Her lips quievered. "Crazy," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she ran her fingers through the cat's snowy fur.
She was alive.
And she was now Sienna.
Not the Scalpel Ghost with a 100% success rate in a surgery, but just a pathetic little side character with a twisted obsession, who directly died hundred days into the apocalypse.