Chapter 6

That night, as I lay down in the quiet of my new home, exhaustion from the day weighed heavily on my body. My mind, however, was restless, unable to quiet its swirling thoughts of the future and everything I had to prepare for. The future felt uncertain, but something in me was determined to face it head-on. Eventually, sleep claimed me, though it wasn't a peaceful rest.

The dream came to me swiftly, almost like a vision.

I found myself standing in a dark, crumbling cityscape. The buildings around me were in ruins, some half-collapsed, others burnt beyond recognition. The air was thick with the stench of decay and smoke. There was a chill in the atmosphere, but it wasn't the kind of cold that could be fought off with a coat—it was the kind of cold that gnawed at your bones, a prelude to something much worse.

I walked through the streets, each step reverberating eerily in the silence. The ground was cracked and littered with debris, and the occasional flicker of distant lights only served to highlight how abandoned the place was. There was no sign of life—no cars on the streets, no people walking around. The world felt like it had been abandoned long ago, and yet, something told me that this silence wouldn't last.

I stopped in front of a large, old building that looked oddly familiar. It took a moment to place it—this was the same city I now called home. The same area where Xui Bai's house stood, albeit decades in the future. I turned away from the building and walked deeper into the city, drawn by an unsettling noise in the distance. It was a low, guttural growl, the sound of something far too close.

Then, I saw them.

The zombies.

Horrific, disfigured, and shambling slowly across the street. Their eyes were hollow, lifeless, and their bodies were covered in blood and grime. Some were missing limbs, others had their flesh torn open, their bones exposed. They moved without purpose, except to destroy anything they could reach. My heart pounded in my chest as I instinctively tried to step back, but I was frozen in place.

I turned, looking for an escape, but the streets were filled with them now—more and more appearing from every direction, drawn to the faintest sound, the slightest movement. Their growls echoed through the air, growing louder with each passing second.

Panic surged within me, but just as I began to move, I felt a heavy pressure in my abdomen. I looked down, expecting to see the slight protrusion of my pregnant belly—but what I saw made my breath catch in my throat. There, right in front of me, was a flash of red.

I snapped back in shock—was that blood? Was I bleeding?

A searing pain suddenly shot through my stomach, sharp and unforgiving. The pain intensified, but instead of crumbling, something deep inside me clicked. I stood taller, summoning every ounce of willpower to stay focused. The pain wasn't just mine—it felt like something more, something outside of me. The children. They were coming.

The zombies were closing in on me, and the pain in my stomach worsened with every second. The streets seemed to shrink around me, and I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, a frantic rhythm that matched the chaos around me.

I heard a voice—familiar and comforting. It was Mr. Mu's voice, strong and calm, despite the storm of panic that raged inside me. "Get to safety, Xui Bai. You have to survive this."

But as the pain intensified, the dream shifted again. The world around me warped, and I felt myself slipping further into the abyss of despair. The zombies weren't just mindless monsters—they were driven, determined, and they were closing in on me faster than I could run.

And then, just before everything went black, I heard it—one word that cut through the noise of the dream like a beacon.

"Wake."

I gasped, waking up with a jolt, my heart racing as though I had been running for miles. My body was covered in sweat, and I found myself gasping for breath in the quiet of the bedroom. The pain I had felt in the dream lingered, like a phantom ache in my abdomen, though the babies inside me were calm, their presence a soft warmth beneath my skin.

I lay there for a moment, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The dream had felt so real, so tangible. Was it a warning? A glimpse into the future? Was it really the zombie apocalypse that I had seen in the dream?

My mind raced, considering the implications of what I had experienced. The apocalypse, the zombies—it all seemed so far-fetched, but the vividness of the dream left me unsettled. The babies were due soon, and if what I had seen was true, it would be around the time of their birth when everything fell apart.

I needed to prepare. I needed to protect them. 

There was no time to waste.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I pushed the dream aside. The world outside was quiet, and I had a lot to figure out. But in that moment, I knew I couldn't ignore what I had seen. It was a message, whether I wanted to acknowledge it or not.

As I lay back down, I promised myself that I would be ready—whatever came next. And I would protect the little ones inside me with everything I had.

For their future. For our future.

The next few days passed in a blur of normalcy. I went about my routine—classes during the day, trying to manage the responsibilities of living in this new body, and still being present for my friends. But inside, I couldn't shake the haunting vision of the apocalypse, the zombies, and the pain. It lingered like an insidious whisper, reminding me of what was to come. The dream had been too vivid, too precise, for me to ignore.

But the reality was, I couldn't tell anyone. How could I? No one would believe me, and I couldn't risk alarming my friends. They had their own lives, their own concerns. And even though I felt a deep sense of responsibility for the future, I knew I couldn't burden them with this knowledge—not yet.

But I could prepare.

That was the one thing I could control.

I had learned something else in the dream, something that I hadn't fully understood until I was awake and processing everything: the space powers. The babies inside me weren't just growing—they were manifesting abilities that I could use. In the dream, I had felt it—the way the world shifted and changed when I focused on the children. The space within me felt vast, like an invisible storage unit. And it was something I could tap into.

The more I thought about it, the more the idea made sense. If I could store things in this space, I could prepare for the future. I could store supplies, food, and equipment—things that would be vital when the apocalypse arrived. Things I would need to survive.

I began testing it quietly, experimenting during my downtime. At first, it felt like a distant dream—something I couldn't fully grasp—but as the days went on, I got better at it. I would focus on the space inside me, and slowly, objects would appear, materializing from nowhere. A water bottle. A flashlight. A few cans of food. At first, it was small, unimportant items, just to test the limits. But as I gained confidence, I began storing more substantial things. Canned goods, medical supplies, and even small tools.

I would slip them into my bag or pocket, making it seem like I was just carrying around my regular items. No one noticed. It was like the objects vanished, absorbed into the space within me. It was a strange, almost magical feeling—like having an invisible vault inside my body. But I had to be careful. I couldn't draw attention to it. If anyone found out what I was doing, I would have to explain the unexplainable.

I started making a plan. I would fill the space with everything I might need—non-perishable food, blankets, clothes, medical supplies, and even weapons. Things that could help me survive when the world fell apart. But I had to be discreet. School, my friends, the people around me—they couldn't know. I had to act normal. I couldn't risk anything drawing suspicion.

It wasn't easy. Every day felt like a balancing act. I had to keep up with my classes, continue interacting with my friends, and maintain the illusion that everything was fine. But the longer I lived in this new reality, the more I realized how fragile it all was. One wrong move, and everything could crumble.

I was taking small steps to secure my future, one item at a time, quietly building my stockpile. But I needed more—much more. I needed to be ready. The apocalypse wasn't just a distant nightmare anymore; it was something that would come to pass, and I had to ensure that I could survive it, protect the children, and maybe even protect those around me if I was lucky.

I had moments where doubt crept in, where I questioned whether I was doing the right thing. Was it selfish to prepare like this? But I couldn't afford to question it. The vision of the future was too clear. The world would change, and I had to be ready for that change.

During the days, I continued to attend classes, trying to look like I belonged in this world. I smiled, laughed, and acted like the same carefree person I had been before. Zu Mu, Chen Na, and the rest of my friends never suspected anything. They were too busy with their own lives—too caught up in their own plans for the future. And I didn't blame them for that. But it was clear to me now that I couldn't count on anyone to help me when the time came. This was something I had to face alone.

But that didn't mean I couldn't take advantage of the resources I had. Mr. Mu, despite being a powerful and important figure, was always willing to lend a hand. He had already helped me secure a house, and I knew that if I asked, he could help me in other ways. But I wasn't ready to rely on anyone just yet. This was my fight, and I had to be the one to stand up and face it head-on.

At night, I would sit in my room, thinking about the future and how I could prepare. I began compiling a list in my mind—things I needed to acquire, things I needed to store. I would check off each item when I was able to secure it, but the list was always growing. There was always more to do, always more to prepare for.

The future was coming, and I couldn't afford to wait any longer.

I would be ready. I had to be.

And whatever happened, I would make sure that the little ones inside me—my children—would have a chance at survival. Even if the world around us crumbled, I would make sure they had a future. That was my responsibility now.