After finishing her inspection of the upgraded space, Freya stood in the quiet courtyard between the mansion and the seed house.
For a long moment, she simply breathed.
Fresh air.
Clean energy.
Silence that did not feel threatening.
Then her stomach growled.
Freya blinked.
It had been years since she'd eaten out of desire instead of necessity.
In the apocalypse, food had been fuel. Canned beans. Vacuum-sealed rations. Expired protein bars. Anything fresh had been a rare luxury, and dairy had practically vanished within the first year.
Now…
She turned toward the mansion.
If this place truly contained everything it appeared to—
She was going to test it properly.
The kitchen welcomed her like it had been waiting.
She opened the refrigerator.
Cold air brushed her face.
Inside were fresh vegetables, neatly arranged. Cuts of meat sealed perfectly. Milk. Butter. Eggs. Fruit vibrant with color.
For a brief second, she just stared.
Then she began.
Steak first.
She selected a thick cut, marbled beautifully, and seasoned it simply. Salt. Pepper. A touch of garlic. She let the pan heat properly before placing the meat down.
The sound—
That sizzle—
It hit her harder than she expected.
Rice simmered gently in a pot nearby. She chopped broccoli and carrots, tossing them lightly in oil before sautéing them until bright and tender.
The scent filled the kitchen.
Savory.
Warm.
Real.
She moved with calm efficiency, plating everything carefully despite the fact that no one was watching.
Steak, perfectly seared.
Steamed rice.
Vibrant green broccoli and bright orange carrots.
For her drink, she blended pineapple and mango into a thick golden smoothie, cold and fragrant.
She carried the plate to the dining table that could seat twenty.
And sat alone at one end.
For a second, her hands hovered over the food.
Fourteen years.
Fourteen years of survival.
She picked up her fork.
The first bite of steak melted in her mouth.
Juice. Tenderness. Heat.
Her breath caught.
The rice was soft and fragrant. The vegetables crisp and fresh. The smoothie sweet and bright, tropical flavors bursting across her tongue.
Her vision blurred.
Freya lowered her fork slowly.
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
She laughed softly under her breath.
Ridiculous.
She had survived betrayal, starvation, hordes of infected, and monsters that defied nature.
And a properly cooked meal was what broke her composure.
But it wasn't just the taste.
It was what it represented.
Safety.
Abundance.
A future not defined by scraping for survival.
She finished everything.
Then, because she could—
She stood and retrieved dessert.
Vanilla ice cream.
Cold. Creamy. Real dairy.
She sliced fresh strawberries over the top and drizzled chocolate syrup across it.
The sweetness was almost overwhelming.
Freya closed her eyes briefly as she ate, savoring every bite.
Heaven.
When she was done, she leaned back in the chair, full for the first time in over a decade.
Not just fed.
Satisfied.
Later, she wandered upstairs.
The master bedroom felt excessive.
But after years of sleeping in abandoned buildings, underground bunkers, and hollowed-out vehicles—
Excess was acceptable.
She lay down on the massive bed.
The mattress molded perfectly beneath her weight. The sheets were soft and cool against her skin.
Just for a moment, she told herself.
Just to rest her eyes.
Darkness took her almost instantly.
Freya woke abruptly.
Not from danger.
From force.
A subtle but undeniable pressure pushed against her consciousness.
Then—
She was back in the cave.
Cool stone beneath her.
Dim natural light filtering in from the entrance.
She sat up immediately.
Alert.
Disoriented only for half a second.
She had not chosen to leave.
The space had ejected her.
Freya frowned slightly and closed her eyes, checking instinctively.
The connection was still there.
Stable.
But there was a faint restriction now.
Understanding settled in.
There was a time limit.
She focused carefully, calculating.
She had slept what felt like eight hours.
Yet the cave's lighting had barely shifted.
She moved to the entrance cautiously and observed the forest.
The shadows had changed only slightly.
Minutes.
Not hours.
Her mind worked quickly.
Eight hours inside.
Eight minutes outside.
A one-to-sixty ratio.
Time flowed differently.
Freya's pulse quickened slightly—not with fear, but with realization.
That meant:
She could train for days while only hours passed outside.
Heal.
Strategize.
Research her weapons.
Grow crops.
Strengthen herself in secrecy.
But—
The forced ejection meant she could not hide inside indefinitely.
There were rules.
Limits.
This space was powerful.
But not without boundaries.
Freya leaned back against the cave wall, eyes thoughtful.
A sanctuary.
A training ground.
A resource beyond imagination.
And now—
A world filled with intelligent beast-men ruled by strength.
A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips.
Good.
Let them rule their forest.
She would build her empire quietly.
And when she stepped into their world openly—
She would not be the weakest creature in it.