Countless corpses—revived yet hollow—surged forward, twisting into grotesque shapes no living person could make, staggering and crawling in numb procession.
From the pitch-black abyss seeped scarlet, withered vines, oozing corruption. In an instant, they spread across the ground, suffocating everything, while screams of terror and agony from companions rang in her ears. The damp, bone-chilling earth beneath her feet was slowly drowned in blood.
The final yellow talisman in her hand had already burned to ash. Her only life-saving charm was gone.
No—she had to escape…
The moment she turned, she heard it—something sharp, drilling into flesh with a sickening crunch. Blinding pain split her vision, her eyes forced wide, and then her heart was pierced through. Torn vessels erupted, blood sprayed wildly, and the torment was worse than death itself…
***
Emma Lin jolted awake, drenched in sweat.
There was no stench of blood. No sight of rotting crimson vines. No agony tearing through her body. What had just happened—was it only a nightmare?
But when her gaze landed on the secondhand laptop glowing faintly on the desk beside her, her breath caught.
No… Even if it was a nightmare, she shouldn't be here.
Alert, she scanned her surroundings. Yet as she looked, doubt replaced suspicion. The eight hundred-square-feet apartment—two bedrooms and a living room—felt both strange and familiar. Her eyes lingered on every detail that tugged at memory.
On the wall hung a giant poster of her favorite singer from over a decade ago. The room was furnished with old tables and chairs. She looked down: she wore a faded cotton T-shirt and beach shorts. Beneath her was an orange sofa with a worn cotton cover. To the right, sunlight spilled in from the balcony, where two pairs of half-worn, freshly scrubbed white sneakers dried in the breeze.
If memory served… this was where she had lived more than ten years ago. Back then, she was a freshly graduated intern, earning barely over a thousand dollars a month, struggling in this shabby old apartment left behind by her parents, soon to be demolished.
Her gaze shifted again—to the half-eaten bowl of instant noodles on the desk. Her throat tightened, swallowing instinctively. A decade ago, this had been junk food. But in the apocalypse, even such nutritionless, greasy noodles had become luxury—something worth risking one's life for.
Her eyes burned as they fixed on those swollen strands of noodles, saliva pooling uncontrollably. But she didn't reach out. Instead, she shut her eyes and bit hard on the tip of her tongue. The sharp sting shot through her, a burst of metallic blood filling her mouth. No numbness. No dizziness.
That meant… this wasn't a hallucination from blood-vine toxins.
This was real.
Which could only mean—she… had returned to ten years ago?
The thought was beyond belief.
To be sure, Emma forced her gaze away from the noodles, rose slowly, and stepped to the window. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed it open.
Warm sunlight washed across her face. A gentle, refreshing breeze carried the noise of life—hawkers shouting, neighbors bargaining, footsteps rushing about in the little market below. Just like it had been more than a decade ago.
Her heartbeat, sluggish at first, began to race, pounding louder and faster until it filled her chest. For the first time in years, she felt truly alive.
Taking a single step back, she calmly closed the window. Yet her heart thundered wildly, and in her eyes—brilliance burst forth.