The first thing she noticed was the ceiling.
White. Ornate. Trimmed in gold leaf.
Aria blinked slowly, her breath catching in her throat. She had woken up in a dozen places before—muddy trenches, burning compounds, rusted bunkers that reeked of iron and rot. But never in satin sheets and the scent of sandalwood oil.
She sat up.
The bed was enormous. Draped in red silk. The room was quiet—so quiet it made her skin crawl. No buzzing fluorescent lights. No wind. No sounds of boots or gunfire or radios.
Just the subtle tick of an antique clock and the distant rustle of birdsong through an open balcony.
Where the hell am I?
She swung her legs over the bed.
Too smooth. Too weak.
Her hands—too soft. No callouses. No combat bruises. Just pale wrists and manicured nails.
She stood unsteadily and made her way to the mirror.
The face that stared back was beautiful.
Unnervingly beautiful. Young. Symmetrical. The kind of face that belonged on perfume ads and aristocratic wedding invitations. Skin like ivory. Lips like cherry blossom petals. Long, inky hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.
Aria's heart pounded.
That wasn't her.
It was someone else's face.
She turned, stumbling toward the wardrobe. There were no uniforms. No combat boots. Only silk robes, lacy underthings, and dresses with price tags thicker than bulletproof glass.
She tried the door.
Locked.
Her panic spiked—but she forced herself to breathe. Count. Assess. Think like a soldier.
"You've been drugged before," she whispered to herself. "This is a hallucination. A trap. A simulation."
Then a soft ding sounded in the air.
A glowing blue screen blinked into existence in front of her, semi-transparent and floating like some kind of augmented reality projection.
[System Binding Complete.]
Welcome, New Host: Lian Xue
Profile: Heiress of the Lian Conglomerate | Age: 23 | Status: High-Risk Pregnancy (Unannounced)
Time Until Global Collapse: 181 Days
Main Objectives: ① Survive ② Hoard ③ Thrive
[Unique Skill Unlocked: Gourmet Instincts Lv.1]
Aria stepped back, staring at the floating words.
"No. No, no, no—this is some kind of AI hallucination."
She reached out to touch the screen. It shimmered, then vanished.
There was another knock at the door.
"Miss Xue? It's time for your breakfast. Shall I bring it in?"
Aria didn't answer. She was too busy feeling the hollow heaviness in her lower belly. Her gut wasn't tight with hunger. It was… full.
She pulled up the loose silk tunic.
Her breath caught.
A soft swell. Not food. Not bloating.
She pressed her hands gently to her stomach.
It was faint. But there—deep within. A slow shift. A flutter.
Something alive.
"You've got to be kidding me," she whispered.
Another ding.
[New Skill Alert: Maternal Precognition Lv.1]
You can sense fetal health, danger, and instinctive reactions. Warning: Extreme stress is harmful to host and unborn children.
She sat down hard on the edge of the bed, heart racing.
Pregnant. In a stranger's body. In a locked mansion.
And then a memory rose. Not hers—but sharp. Precise.
________________________________________
A man's cold voice.
"If anything happens to the heirs, the empire crumbles."
A woman's sobbing scream.
"She doesn't know yet—she still thinks this is just a dream!"
A headline from a book cover, burnt into her vision like fire:
"The Heiress Who Died Before the Apocalypse."
________________________________________
Aria's breath froze.
"Oh my god," she said.
She remembered now.
Not from her life. But from her past-time indulgence between deployments.
She'd read this. Or something like it. A trashy, dystopian romance novel—where the spoiled heiress of the richest family in Asia died three days before the zombie outbreak. Leaving her unborn triplets to die. Her empire to fall.
She'd hated the book.
Too melodramatic. Too many dumb choices. Too many wasted chances.
But now… she was her.
"I'm in the goddamn book," Aria whispered.
And the clock was ticking.