[Welcome to Planet C-45, Day 176 of the Global Flood]
Isla Lane woke up with the sharp taste of salt in her mouth.
She found herself drifting in the middle of an endless ocean, tossed by waves along with scattered debris.
"Explain to me what's going on! Where's the promise of being a landlady and living a leisurely life?" she demanded, gasping for breath. The cold wind cut through her like blades.
A sudden gust made her shiver violently. "Achoo!"
It was freezing.
Just as she was about to swim toward a floating blue drum, a 20-square-meter raft appeared nearby. A small wooden cabin, resembling a tiny shop, was anchored in its center. The raft drifted toward her and stopped just in time.
Gripping its edge, she hauled herself onto the wooden floor and collapsed from exhaustion the moment her feet touched the deck.
This new body was so weak!
Yes, you read that correctly. Isla Lane was not from this world. She had come from another apocalyptic reality. In her previous world, the sky had turned red, and countless meteorites had fallen, transforming into dungeons full with Nightmares.
These nightmares hunted humans relentlessly. Entire cities fell, and casualties were staggering.
Faced with this existential threat, the world's remaining governments deployed their military forces. At first, humans could hold their ground with conventional weapons.
But by the second year, the nightmares evolved, becoming immune to all forms of warfare. One safe zone after another succumbed.
Just when humanity was on the brink of extinction, the world's spiritual energy awakened. Meta-humans emerged, beings capable of battling the nightmares. Slowly, the meta-humans reclaimed lost territories, cleared dungeons, and restored safe zones.
Isla Lane was among these meta-humans.
Although she had awakened later than most, her growth rate was monstrous. Within a year, she caught up to the Top Ten Global Powerhouses she had always admired.
This qualified her to join the final dungeon raid, a mission with a 100% failure rate. Clearing it promised the world's salvation: no more monsters and everything will be restored back.
The final dungeon became the ultimate goal of humanity and the meta-human association.
Yet for seven years, humanity failed repeatedly, even the global powerhouses could not conquer it.
In the eighth year, Isla Lane joined the raid. But a week before the mission, during a strategy meeting with the powerhouses, she uncovered a shocking truth: the Global Powerhouses had been deliberately failing the raids to maintain their wealth, influence, and status.
Disgusted, Isla Lane swore to expose them.
She underestimated their influence. Overnight, her reputation was destroyed. Die-hard fans of the powerhouses branded her a jealous liar, claiming she had sabotaged the raid out of fear or envy. The association led by the powerhouses hunted her relentlessly, deliberately fanning the flames and pinning false crimes on her.
Isla Lane's patience snapped. Enough! To hell with them!
On the day of the final dungeon raid, she beat and humiliated the two-faced Global Powerhouses in front of the media and then entered the dungeon alone.
To everyone's astonishment, Isla Lane cleared it by herself.
The machine-like voice from the first day of the catastrophe returned.
[Congratulations. You have conquered the final dungeon. Your world will be restored.]
Around her, the meta-humans felt their powers fade.
"No! My powers!"
"Give them back! Give them back!"
Though Isla Lane survived, her body had taken an unimaginable beating.
On her last breath, standing before the disappearing dungeon gate, she raised a middle finger at the doubters and the now-powerless Global Powerhouses.
"F*ck you!"
And then, she succumbed to death.