(DON'T READ FUTURE SPOILER) Season 2 Planning

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JUST KIDDING

But as a bonus gift to my dear readers who WILL continue with me and support me, this is a bonus for the future 3 chapters that maybe will be set in 2025 - 2026. (as in novel order).

And I truly appreciate comments and the reader's positive and thoughtful interactions. so don't hesitate to interact.

I hope I will get contracted for season 1 as soon as possible so I can be hopeful and continue this novel...

Note: read the previous chapters so you can have a better understanding of these far-future chapters.

Additionally, please search YouTube for 'Zombie Player & the Regressed Heroine: A Reality Awaits September 2024' to view my fun-made characters' images in the short trailer.

Planning S2

Chapters 107 - 110

Season 2 Plot Outline:

After the conclusion of Season 1, a new and mysterious character is introduced—a woman whose life was shattered by Layla, Aeon's wife. This woman's family was killed by Layla, leaving her helpless and weak at the time. Unable to fight back then, she has since nurtured her hatred, waiting for the moment to exact her revenge.

Layla, now a mother of four, regularly takes her children to a nearby public park where they play with other kids. On one fateful day, the mysterious woman spots them and sets her plan into motion. She approaches the children, struggling with what appears to be an overwhelming load of shopping bags, her voice trembling with feigned exhaustion.

"Excuse me, kids," she calls out, her breath ragged. "Could you please help me carry these bags to my house? It's just around the corner, and I don't think I can manage on my own."

The children, well-trained by their parents to be cautious around strangers, hesitate. The eldest girl, her sharp golden eyes—a reflection of her mother's—narrow with suspicion. "We're not supposed to go to strangers' houses," she says firmly, her tone tinged with the confidence of someone much older.

The woman's expression softens into a look of disappointment, and she sighs deeply. "I understand," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "But I'm not really a stranger, am I? You live on Street Number 10, in House Number 5, right? I live just around the corner, on Street Number 11. We're practically neighbors."

The children exchange cautious glances. The woman's precise knowledge of their address triggers alarms in their minds. But they remember their father's teachings about staying calm under pressure. Sensing something off but not wanting to reveal their suspicion too soon, they decide to play along.

"Alright," the boy with mixed golden and green eyes finally says, his tone carefully neutral. "We'll help you."

As they walk towards the woman's house, the youngest child, a girl with vibrant green eyes, notices a subtle bulge under the woman's shirt. She discreetly tugs at her brother's sleeve, and when he glances down, she signals with her eyes toward the concealed gun. He nods almost imperceptibly, acknowledging the silent warning.

When they arrive at the house, a modest yet eerie structure, the woman thanks them profusely, her voice dripping with false warmth. "You've been such a big help," she says, ushering them inside. "Please, let me offer you some snacks and juice as a thank you."

Inside, the house feels unnervingly silent. The children take in their surroundings, noting the sparse furniture and drawn curtains that block out the daylight. The air is thick with tension as the woman pours glasses of orange juice, setting them down on the table with a forced smile.

"Drink up," she urges, her eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

The children exchange quick, knowing glances. They lift their glasses to their lips but don't drink. Instead, they discreetly pour the juice into the potted plant beside the table when the woman's back is turned. Then, they feign drowsiness, letting their heads droop as if the drug is taking effect.

The woman, believing her plan is working, watches them with satisfaction. "Finally," she mutters to herself, her voice tinged with malice. "Don't blame me—blame your mother, Layla, for the lives she's ruined."

Satisfied that the children are unconscious, she begins dragging them, one by one, to a hidden basement room. The children, fully aware but playing along, allow themselves to be moved, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Once they are all in the basement, the woman locks the door behind her, her face twisted in a mixture of triumph and hatred. "This is where you'll stay," she sneers, "until your mother knows what true despair feels like."

But as she turns to leave, the boy with mixed golden and green eyes suddenly opens his eyes. "Now!" he shouts.

In an instant, the children spring into action. The eldest girl grabs a nearby lamp and swings it with all her might, striking the woman on the head. The youngest girl kicks at the woman's legs, while their brother tackles her, sending her crashing to the floor.

The woman, caught off guard by the sudden assault, scrambles to reach for the gun she believes is still tucked under her shirt. But when her hand grasps at the spot, she finds nothing.

"Looking for this?" The boy with mixed eyes holds up the gun, his expression calm and unyielding, entirely unfitting for his age.

The woman's eyes widen in shock. "How did you…?"

"I took it when we were helping you with your bags," the boy replies, his tone even and collected. "My siblings created a distraction, and I took the opportunity to disarm you. We knew you weren't with the police or anything like that—especially since you had a gun without a license."

Fury and disbelief flash across the woman's face as she realizes how thoroughly she's been outmaneuvered. "You're just like your mother," she spits, her voice venomous. "A murderer, just like her. She killed my family, and I'm here to make her suffer. But I wasn't planning to hurt you. I only wanted to see that monster, Layla, in despair and force her to take her own life. So give me the gun, boy. It's not a toy."

The boy shakes his head, his grip on the weapon firm. "No can do."

As the woman glares at the children, trying to figure out her next move, she can't help but ask, "When did you become suspicious of me?"

The boy with mixed eyes smirks. "We became more suspicious when you knew exactly where we live—not just the street number, but also our house unit number. You knew it too precisely. That meant you've been watching us. So, we decided to go along with your schemes, gather evidence, and then call the police."

At that moment, the eldest girl pulls out her phone and dials 911. "We're calling the police now," she says, her voice steady and confident.

The other sister calls their father, while the brother contacts their mother. "Dad, we've got a situation," he says, his voice calm but urgent as he relays their location.

Within minutes, the police arrive, followed closely by Aeon and Layla. They break into the hidden basement room, their faces set in grim determination. The children quickly explain everything that happened, their voices calm and assured, despite the danger they'd just faced.

Layla's eyes blaze with fury as she takes in the scene, her heart pounding with protective rage. She's ready to strike down the woman who dared to threaten her children. But Aeon, always the voice of reason, steps in, placing a firm hand on Layla's arm before she can act.

"Don't let her provoke you," Aeon warns in a low voice, his eyes locked on the woman. "She's trying to flip the situation and put you in prison."

The woman, hearing this, bites her lip in frustration, her face twisted with anger. "Don't interfere, Aeon! That woman killed my family members. She should have been judged and put in prison a long time ago."

Aeon, knowing Layla would never harm innocents without reason, turns to her and asks calmly, "Layla, did you really kill her family members?"

Layla, though her emotions are running high, answers truthfully. "Yes, I did. But I did it because they asked me to. As a last mercy, they wanted to die as humans before the infection turned them into monsters. They feared they would harm their daughter. Although I was reluctant at first, I honored their request."

The woman's resolve begins to waver as she's confronted with the truth. Her hands tremble, and her voice quivers with desperation. "No! She's lying! When I arrived at the house, she looked at me coldly and said, 'You have a good family. What a waste.' Then she walked towards me and coldly said, 'Live if you want revenge on me.' She killed them for fun and dared me to take revenge if I could. She's a criminal, a murderer!"

Aeon steps forward, his tone calm but firm. "No, it was the opposite. She saved your life—not just from the infection but from yourself. Think about it. If you had learned your family killed themselves because of you, how would you have felt? You would have been so emotional that you might have taken your own life in grief. But Layla honoured your family's sacrifice. She gave you a purpose to live—revenge—so that you wouldn't blame yourself and end your life. She gave you a reason to keep going."

The woman's expression falters, her breath hitching as she struggles to process Aeon's words. The fire in her eyes dims, replaced by a dawning realization that her vendetta was based on a tragic misunderstanding. But before the full weight of the truth can sink in, she suddenly remembers her last desperate plan.

With a wild, almost manic look in her eyes, the woman pulls out a remote control from her pocket. "You think you've won?" she snarls, her thumb hovering over the button. "This room is rigged with explosives. If I can't have my revenge, I'll take you all with me!"

Aeon's eyes widened in horror as he instinctively moved to shield two of his children.

Layla's heart races as she instinctively moves to shield her other two children, her motherly instincts overpowering all else. Aeon tenses, his mind racing for a solution, as the woman's thumb hovers ominously over the button.

The woman's face twists with malicious satisfaction, believing she's finally gained the upper hand. "You didn't think I'd come unprepared, did you?" she sneers. "This is the end for all of you—especially you, Layla."

But as she presses the button with a triumphant look, nothing happens. Confusion flashes across her face as she presses it again, and again, her thumb stabbing at the button with increasing desperation. The room remains eerily silent, and her sense of power begins to crumble.

"What…? Why isn't it working?" she mutters, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. She looks up at Aeon and Layla, who are now staring at her, their expressions shifting from panic to confusion.

The woman's frustration boils over, and she presses the button frantically, her face contorting in desperation. "Why isn't it working?!" she screams, her voice breaking as she slams the button repeatedly.

The tension in the room is palpable, the seconds dragging out like hours. Then, Aeon's daughter with green eyes steps forward, her expression calm and composed, despite the intensity of the situation.

"It's not going to work," she says softly, her voice cutting through the woman's frantic actions like a knife.

The woman whirls around to face the girl, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What are you talking about?" she snaps, her voice a mix of anger and fear. "Why won't it work?"

The girl steps closer, her eyes meeting the woman's with a cool, unwavering gaze. "Because I took the batteries out of the remote controller," she explains, holding up the small, round batteries in her hand. "You didn't notice, but I did it when we helped you with your bags. I saw you hide the remote, and I knew something was off. So, I took out the batteries while you were distracted."

The woman's face pales as the realization hits her. Her body slumps in defeat, the remote falling from her trembling hand to the floor with a clatter. The last shred of her plan, her final chance at revenge, has been thwarted by a child.

"You… you're lying," the woman whispers, though her voice lacks conviction. Her mind races, trying to grasp onto some semblance of control, but it's slipping away like sand through her fingers.

The girl shakes her head. "No, I'm not. I did it because I knew you had no intention of letting us go. You wanted to hurt our mom, and we couldn't let that happen. We've been trained to spot threats and act on them. We weren't going to just sit around and let you win."

The woman's knees buckle, and she collapses to the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes are glazed with disbelief, her mind unable to fully comprehend the turn of events. The weapon she thought would give her control is now nothing more than a useless piece of plastic and metal.

Layla, though still tense, feels a wave of relief washes over her. She steps forward, her voice low and steady as she addresses the woman. "You thought you could outsmart us, but you underestimated my children—and you underestimated me. I understand your pain, but this isn't the way to honour your family."

The woman's head snaps up, her eyes filled with a mixture of rage and sorrow. "Don't talk to me about honouring them!" she spits, her voice trembling. "You took everything from me! My family, my life—everything! I have nothing left!"

Aeon steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. "You're wrong. You still have your life, and you still have a chance to make a different choice. You've been consumed by your hatred for so long that you've lost sight of who you are. But it's not too late. You can still find a way to live without this burden of revenge."

The woman looks at Aeon, her expression torn between anger and desperation. "What else is there for me?" she whispers, her voice barely audible. "My life has been nothing but pain since that day."

"There's always something worth living for," Aeon replies softly. "You just have to be willing to see it. Your family wouldn't want you to destroy yourself like this. They made their choice to protect you, and it's up to you to honour that choice by living."

Tears begin to well up in the woman's eyes as the weight of Aeon's words sinks in. For so long, she's been driven by her desire for revenge, but now, faced with the reality of her actions and the futility of her plan, she feels the crushing emptiness that comes with it.

The police, who have been silently observing the exchange, step forward to take the woman into custody. She doesn't resist as they gently pull her to her feet, her body limp with exhaustion and defeat.

As the officers lead her away, the woman looks back at the children, her gaze lingering on the boy with mixed eyes. "I wanted to make your mother suffer," she says, her voice hollow. "But all I did was hurt myself even more."

The boy doesn't respond, his expression unreadable. He simply watches as the woman is escorted out of the basement, her footsteps echoing in the silence.

Once she's gone, Layla finally allows herself to breathe. She turns to her children, her eyes filled with pride and gratitude. "You were amazing," she says, pulling them into a tight embrace. "I'm so proud of all of you."

The children hug her back, their small arms wrapped tightly around her. Aeon joins the embrace, his hand resting on Layla's shoulder as he looks down at their children with pride.

"You all did exactly what we've taught you," Aeon says, his voice warm with affection. "You stayed calm, you assessed the situation, and you acted with purpose. I couldn't be prouder."

The girl with green eyes looks up at her father, her expression serious. "We just did what we had to do. We knew she was dangerous, and we couldn't let her hurt anyone."

Layla kisses the top of her daughter's head. "You're right. And because of you, we're all safe. You saved us all."

As the family stands together, the weight of what just happened slowly begins to lift. The tension that had gripped the room dissipated, replaced by a sense of relief and unity. They may have faced a dangerous threat, but they did so together, and they emerged stronger because of it.

Outside, as the police car drives away with the woman in the backseat, she stares out the window, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The road ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in years, the all-consuming fire of her hatred has dimmed. In its place is a flicker of something she hasn't felt in a long time—hope.

As the family remained huddled together, the reality of the situation slowly sank in, leaving them in a moment of quiet reflection. The basement, once filled with the threat of violence and vengeance, now seemed just a room again—though still heavy with the memories of what almost transpired.

Layla took a deep breath, pulling back slightly to look into each of her children's eyes. "We need to talk about what happened," she said gently, though her tone was firm. "I know you all handled the situation incredibly well, but I want to make sure you're okay. This was... a lot for anyone, let alone children."

The boy with the mixed eyes glanced down, then back up at his mother. "We knew she was dangerous, Mom," he said quietly. "But we also knew that she was... hurting. She didn't really want to hurt us, not deep down."

The girl with green eyes nodded in agreement. "She was scared and angry. We could see that. But we couldn't let her do what she wanted to, even if she was in pain."

Layla's heart ached at her children's words, at how much they had to grow up in such a short amount of time. "You're right," she agreed softly. "But I wish you didn't have to face that kind of danger. I wish I could protect you from everything."

Aeon wrapped an arm around Layla's shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You did protect them, Layla. You and I both prepared them for situations like this, and they proved today that they can handle themselves. But we'll be here to help them process what happened, together."

Layla nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She turned back to her children. "Let's go home," she suggested. "We'll talk more there, where we can all feel safe."

The family made their way out of the basement and back into the daylight. The sky was tinged with the colours of sunset, the warmth of the sun's final rays casting a golden hue over everything. It felt almost surreal, as if the darkness they had just faced had been washed away by the light.

Once they reached their home, Layla and Aeon guided their children inside, where the familiar warmth and safety of their house enveloped them like a comforting blanket. They settled in the living room, where the soft glow of the evening lights created a peaceful atmosphere.

Layla sat down on the couch, pulling her children close. "I know this was scary," she began, her voice gentle. "But I want you all to know how proud I am of you. You were brave, and you were smart. You did exactly what you needed to do to keep yourselves safe."

The boy with mixed eyes looked up at her, his expression still serious. "We just did what you and Dad taught us," he said quietly. "We knew we had to stay calm and think before we acted."

Aeon nodded in agreement. "And you did that perfectly," he said, his voice filled with pride. "But I also want you to know that it's okay to be scared or confused about what happened. We're here to talk about it whenever you're ready."

The girl with green eyes leaned into her mother's side, her small hand clutching Layla's tightly. "I was scared," she admitted softly. "But I knew we had to do something. I didn't want her to hurt anyone."

Layla stroked her daughter's hair, her heart aching with love and empathy. "It's okay to be scared, sweetie," she reassured her. "Being scared doesn't mean you're not brave. It just means you care about what happens, and that's a good thing."

The other girl, with golden eyes, looked up at her father. "I was worried too," she confessed. "But when she started pressing the button, I remembered what you always say—about staying calm and looking for a solution. That's when I remembered the batteries."

Aeon smiled at her, his eyes filled with warmth. "And that was the perfect solution," he said. "You kept your cool and found a way to neutralize the threat without escalating the situation. I couldn't ask for anything more."

However, Layla's expression changed from relief to a stern, motherly concern. She glanced at each of her children, her gaze lingering on them with a mixture of pride and worry. "But I have to ask," she began, her voice firmer, "why did you go with her into that house? You knew she was suspicious, and yet you still followed her. That was incredibly dangerous."

The children exchanged a look, sensing the seriousness in their mother's tone. The boy with mixed eyes took a deep breath, then spoke up. "We did it to protect you, Mom," he said, his voice steady but soft. "If we hadn't followed her, if we didn't have decisive evidence against her, she might have tried again, maybe with an even more dangerous plan. We wanted to make sure she couldn't come after us—or you—again."

Layla's stern expression softened, but the concern remained. She shook her head slightly, her heart torn between understanding and fear. "You shouldn't have put yourselves in that position," she insisted, her voice wavering slightly. "You're just children. It's our job to protect you, not the other way around."

Aeon, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. He chuckled softly and said, "Well, Layla, they do take after me—very careful and smart!" He laughed, but his attempt at humor was met with a sharp glare from Layla.

"Don't encourage them, Aeon," she snapped, though her tone held a hint of exasperated affection. "This isn't a joke. They could have been hurt—or worse."

Aeon raised his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. "I know, I know," he said, his tone more serious now. "But you have to admit, they handled the situation pretty well. We've taught them to be cautious, to think on their feet, and they did just that."

Layla sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "I just don't want anything to happen to them," she murmured, her voice filled with a mother's deep-seated fear. "They're everything to me."

The girl with green eyes spoke up, her voice small but determined. "We did it because we love you, Mom," she said. "We knew you'd be worried, but we had to make sure she couldn't hurt you—or anyone else."

Layla's eyes filled with tears, and she pulled her children into a tight embrace. "I love you all so much," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "But please, promise me you'll be more careful next time. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

The children nodded, their faces serious as they made the promise to their mother. The weight of the day's events still lingered, but in that moment, the bond between them felt stronger than ever.

As the evening continued, the family spent time together, talking and laughing, the weight of the day's events gradually lifting.

So as the family began to unwind from the day's intense events, Aeon, ever the one to break the tension, suggested with a mischievous grin, "How about we play that new zombie VR game tonight? You know, something to take our minds off things."

Layla shot him a playful glare, crossing her arms. "You still can't get enough of zombies, can you? Even after all we've been through in the real world, you're still a fan of the apocalypse?"

Aeon chuckled, his laughter lightening the mood. "Hey, it's part of our history! Besides, it's all about bonding as a family, right? Let's enjoy it together."

The kids, catching onto the playful banter, giggled and chimed in with excitement. Layla shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. "Fine, but don't blame me if I'm the one who ends up saving you all in the game."

Aeon winked. "That's the spirit! But don't worry—I'll make sure to keep the virtual zombies away from you, My Regressed Heroine."

With that, the family gathered around, the earlier tension dissipating as laughter and lighthearted fun filled the room. The VR game turned into a joyous affair, with Layla surprisingly dominating the game, much to Aeon's mock dismay. The evening ended on a high note, filled with warmth, love, and the simple joy of being together as a family.

Layla and Aeon knew that their children would need time to fully process what happened, but they were confident that, with love and support, they would emerge from this stronger than ever.

Later that night, after the children had gone to bed, Layla and Aeon sat together on the couch, the quiet of the house providing a moment of peace. Layla rested her head on Aeon's shoulder, her thoughts swirling with everything that had happened.

"She was so full of hatred," Layla murmured, her voice heavy with emotion. "I can't stop thinking about how different things could have been if she hadn't been consumed by it."

Aeon nodded, his hand gently stroking her arm. "It's a tragic situation," he agreed. "But I think you gave her something she hadn't had in a long time—a chance to reflect. She may not have realized it yet, but you planted a seed of hope in her. It's up to her whether she nurtures it or not."

Layla sighed, her heart aching for the woman who had once been a child, just like her own. "I hope she finds peace," she said softly. "For her own sake, and for the memory of her family."

"She might," Aeon replied, his voice calm and steady. "And if she does, it will be because of you. You showed her mercy when she expected none. That's something powerful, Layla."

Layla looked up at Aeon, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you," she whispered. "You're my strength, Aeon."

Aeon leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead. "And you're mine," he whispered back. "We're in this together, always."

They sat in silence for a while, simply holding each other, finding comfort in the presence of the one person who understood them completely. The events of the day had left a mark on them both, but they knew that together, they could face anything.

As the night deepened, Layla finally allowed herself to relax, her body sinking into the warmth and safety of Aeon's embrace. She closed her eyes, the tension slowly ebbing away, replaced by a deep, abiding sense of love and connection.

In the darkness, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as a family—stronger, wiser, and more united than ever.