Apocaly Utopi apocaly utop

Chapter 4 Mother

"I'll kill you shameless bastards! Sitting in your car...with the AC on, while we suffer! Huh?"

Accompanied by a dull thud against the car door, a slurred angry shout erupted from the roadside—Emma, startled by the shadowy figure, momentarily lost control. She slammed the brakes hard, the car screeching unpleasantly, barely avoiding a collision with the guardrail.

Looking back, she saw a shirtless man drenched in sweat, clutching bricks and hurling them wildly at the red Mazda parked nearby. "You...you're no good...get out here, get out..." Before he could finish, he collapsed backward, unconscious.

Clearly, she had been caught in the crossfire.

Exhaling deeply, Emma tore her gaze from the car's reflection, her heart still racing. Frenzied agitation, unconsciousness, and occasional hallucinations—these were all signs of severe dehydration from extreme heat—

She took a deep breath, accelerated, and headed straight for Sophie's neighborhood.

She had visited Sophie's place many times—twenty minutes later, as the headlights illuminated the words "Veteran Community," Emma slowly stopped the car and turned off the engine. Retrieving the keys, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and switching on her flashlight, she walked toward the complex's main gate.

The complex was somewhat remote, usually quiet, but now it was as silent as a ghost town. Yet, just as she approached the iron gate, Emma suddenly felt a shiver and halted.

She glanced around but saw nothing unusual—she waited cautiously for two more minutes, and when nothing happened, she finally exhaled slightly.

It seemed this "keen intuition" wasn't 100% accurate.

Veteran Community was an old complex from the 1990s, and like all older buildings, it had a guard booth at the entrance. Due to the area's safety concerns, the iron gate was locked after midnight. However, if someone returned late, knocking on the gate would usually prompt the on-duty guard to come out with the keys.

Checking her watch, it was exactly 2:30 AM. Emma stepped forward, shook the firmly locked gate, the heavy brass lock clanging loudly—the noise was piercing, gradually fading after a while. Yet, the surroundings remained eerily silent, devoid of any human presence.

"Guard, are you there? I'm here to visit someone in Unit 2. Could you open the gate?" Her clear voice carried far in the quiet night. But no matter how much hope her voice held, there was no response from the guard booth.

Sighing, this was expected. Emma looked up at the iron bars atop the gate, designed to prevent climbing, and felt a headache coming on—despite the complex's age, the gate was newly installed, sturdy and leaving no room for shortcuts.

Hesitating, Emma placed her hand on the gate.

"Retrieve!"

As she whispered, a white light flickered in her palm. But this time, the light seemed weaker, flashing several times before the gate remained unchanged. This was Emma's first attempt to transform something so large and heavy—she felt her heartbeat quicken, gradually struggling to breathe, her muscles aching—

It felt as if thousands of pounds of iron were weighing her down, her arms trembling. Just as she was about to give up, the white light flickered one last time and vanished with a "snap."

The gate disappeared, transforming into a card that fell to the ground. A childlike crayon drawing of two iron gates adorned the card, with a note at the bottom:

[Iron Gate]

The two iron gates were installed at Veteran Community in 2012. Heavy with no redeeming qualities.

Function: Nothing special. You can't stand upright unless you are installed on a wall.

...Emma was almost accustomed to these useless cards. She pocketed it and hurried toward Sophie's building, Unit 2.

The guard booth behind her remained dark and silent.

By the time Emma stood before Room 401, she was panting like a bull. Transforming the gate had drained her energy, and climbing four flights of stairs left her voice trembling: "S-Sophie! Are you there...open the door, it's me, Emma!"

Room 401 was silent. Emma's heart sank—if Sophie had passed out inside, she wouldn't know what to do. Since midnight, she had already transformed three things: Buck's corpse, hair, and the gate. She had only one transformation left today, but Sophie's apartment had two doors!

Emma, unwilling to give up, kept knocking and calling, her anxiety mounting.—When she got out of the car earlier, she noticed the temperature was still rising. Based on her discomfort, it was definitely over 130°F now. How could Sophie, an ordinary person, endure this...

After a while, Emma felt her throat burning and had to stop to drink some water. Putting the bottle back in her bag, she was about to knock again when the door creaked open slightly.

"Sophie, how are you—" Emma exhaled in relief, shining her flashlight inside.

But the person who opened the door wasn't Sophie—it was a middle-aged woman in her fifties with an oval face. Startled by the light, the woman shielded her eyes—but in that brief moment, Emma saw enough.

With a clatter, Emma's phone fell to the floor.

She stared at the half-visible face in the doorway, finally reacting and fumbling to pick up her phone—the trembling flashlight beam returned to the door, and Emma found her voice: "... Mom?"

Her mind was a jumbled mess. "Mom, how...how are you here? Are you okay...? What's going on?"

The woman was on the verge of tears, quickly opening the door, "Come in, come in! I'm so glad you're okay! I've been worried sick..."

Emma, dazed, was pulled inside and stood in the entryway. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind, but she couldn't find the words to start; as she stood there, her gaze fell on a waist-high white shoe cabinet beside her—she knew it well, having bought it with Sophie.

One question burst out: "Mom, why are you at Sophie's? Where is she?"

Emma's mother wiped her tears, pulled over a chair, and gestured for Emma to sit. Once seated, she choked out, "... Since the weather turned so strange, I've been worried sick about you. Tonight, when I heard the power grid here had failed, I rushed over... I couldn't reach you by phone, so I went to Sophie's, hoping to wait for you. But...but Sophie seems to be gone..."

Emma's mother sobbed a few times, then said, "She was a good kid...I know you were close, but don't take it too hard."

Emma sat motionless, silent for a moment, then turned off her phone's flashlight. The room plunged back into darkness.

"I prepared myself on the way here...if fate took her, there's nothing we can do. What matters is that you're okay, Mom..." Emma murmured in the dark.

Emma's mother, knowing her daughter couldn't see, nodded anyway. She wiped her face and smiled, "Your dad's fine too, resting in the room. I'll go get him—" She turned to leave.

"I'll come too—" Emma quickly stood up.

Emma's mother nodded as she walked, reaching for the bedroom door: "Hey..."

Before she could finish, a rush of wind came from behind. Emma's mother, caught off guard, was struck hard on the head with a loud "clang," collapsing instantly, revealing Emma standing behind her.

Emma, arms trembling from holding the chair high, quickly set it down—but instead of letting go, she gripped the chair tightly, glaring in the bedroom door as if facing a formidable enemy. For a moment, the only sound in the quiet room was her heavy breathing.

Then, footsteps sounded from behind the bedroom door, and it was suddenly flung open. A broad-shouldered, tall man stood in the doorway, staring in shock and anger at the scene—by the faint light from outside, his resemblance to Emma was unmistakable.

"What are you doing?! That's your mother!" he roared.

The face opposite him, so similar to his own, was cold and expressionless.

"I wish she were my mother more than you do," Emma took a deep breath, feeling the fatigue in her arms and legs twitching. "My parents died in a car accident ten years ago—I handled everything from identifying the bodies to the burial myself. ... Who are you two? And where is my friend?"