Reborn Before His Ruins

Chapter 2

Marlowe's POV

There was no pain first, just silence, the kind that swallows even the memory of pain. I floated somewhere without a body, without Aurelia, without Dorian's face hovering above mine in the last second I remembered. If this was what dying actually felt like, it wasn't what anyone had promised me.

Then something cracked. Light, maybe, or sound, or just the stubborn refusal of my own heart to stop.

I woke up choking on air, My hands flew to my chest immediately. Nothing was there, no sword, no blood, no wound. I dragged my fingers across my skin, searching for the hole Dorian's blade had left behind. Smooth, warm and whole. I stared at my hands, then at my arms. The black veins were gone. I touched my throat, nothing too. My heart was beating so hard it hurt. was alive!

"No ..

I pushed myself upright. The room spun. I gripped the sheets until the dizziness passed, then looked around. Pale curtains, the wooden wardrobe. The desk beside the window. The stupid stuffed rabbit sitting crookedly on the bookshelf. I knew this room, I have slept here thousands of times before the world ended. Before Aurelia burned. Before I learned how to kill. My gaze landed on the mirror. I stumbled out of bed. The woman staring back at me was twenty-four. Not the hollow-faced survivor who had spent years eating whatever she could find. Not the infected woman Dorian had killed. It was damn me! My hair fell over my shoulders, clean and soft. My skin wasn't grey with exhaustion. There were no scars across my cheek. No black veins. I touched my reflection, she touched me back. A knock sounded.

"Marlowe?"

I froze, that voice .. It's my mother's voice .

"Are you awake?"

My throat closed. The door opened before I could answer. Odessa walked in carrying a laundry basket. Alive and healthy. She frowned at me surprisingly.

"Why are you standing there?"

I couldn't speak, she set the basket down.

"Marlowe?"

I crossed the room so quickly she barely had time to react before I threw my arms around her. She stiffened.

"Oh."

Her hand slowly came up to my back.

"What happened?"

I buried my face against her shoulder. She smelled like lavender detergent. I hadn't smelled it in years.

"Mum."

Her hand moved through my hair.

"Sweetheart, you're frightening me."

I held her tighter again.

"I thought you were dead."

She pulled back enough to see my face.

“What?"

I wiped my cheeks.

"When did you get back?"

"I haven't gone anywhere."

I stared at her. Her forehead creased.

"Marlowe, did you hit your head?"

"No.'

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I have."

Her eyes widened. I almost chucked.

"I mean ... "

I stopped. How exactly was I supposed to explain that I had just been murdered by the future ruler of the wasteland and I was reborn now? My mother touched my forehead.

"You're not feverish."

“Mum."

'Yes?"

"Where's Junie?"

Her expression softened.

"Still asleep, I imagine. Why?"

I was already moving.

"Marlowe!"

I ran down the hallway.

"Junie!"

A door opened. My sister appeared with tangled hair and a pillow pressed against her chest. She blinked at me.

"Why are you screaming?"

I stopped. There she was, twenty years old. Alive, annoyingly beautiful, and annoyingly alive. I stared until her eyebrows lifted.

“Are you okay?"

I crossed the distance between us and hugged her. She made a strangled sound.

"Okay. This is weird."

I squeezed her tighter.

"You're alive."

"Obviously."

"You're really alive."

“Yes?"

"Good."

She looked over my shoulder to our mother.

"Mum?"

"I don't know either."

Junie patted my back awkwardly.

"Marlowe, you're starting to scare me."

I had to let her go.

"Sorry."

She studied me.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

I hesitated.

“Yes."

“What kind?"

I looked at her.

"The worst kind."

She frowned.

"You're acting strange."

“I know."

My mother folded her arms.

"I think you need to sit down."

"I need today's date."

Both of them stared at me.

"The date?" Junie repeated.

"Yes."

“Why?"

"Just tell me."

My mother exchanged a look with Junie.

"August twenty-third."

My breath stopped. I turned toward the calendar on the wall myself. August 23rd ?! I knew this date. One hundred days. Exactly one hundred days before the blackout. I had returned. Not years, months but exactly one hundred days. I gripped the edge of the table. Junie came closer.

"Marlowe?"

"Don't touch me."

She stopped and I immediately regretted it.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

She lowered her hand.

"You're really scaring us."

"I know."

My mother stepped closer.

"Tell me what happened."

I looked at her. What could I possibly say? I watched you die. I watched Junie die. The world ended. I starved for years. I was infected. Dorian Wren killed me. Instead, I said, "I had a very realistic nightmare." Junie snorted.

"You hugged Mum like she was returning from the dead."

My chest tightened. "She was."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I walked back to my room. My mother followed immediately.

"Marlowe."

"I need some time."

"You're my daughter. If something is wrong, you can tell me."

I looked at her. For one terrible second, I was back in the wasteland, standing over her body. I swallowed.

"I just need today."

She studied my face. Then nodded.

"All right."

She touched my cheek before leaving.

"Come downstairs when you're ready."

The door closed. I sat on the edge of my bed. For several minutes, I didn't move. Then I whispered, "I'm back." The words felt impossible. I remembered everything. Blackridge falling. The infected tearing through the streets. The smell of smoke. The hunger. The people who betrayed me. The people I couldn't save. Dorian! His sword. His eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut. I could still feel the blade entering my chest but I could also remember something else. His face. That final moment. He looked devastated, not triumphant, cruel but devastated. I opened my eyes and screamed.

“No !! "

I shook my head.

"He killed me."

That was all that mattered. Dorian Wren was alive somewhere in Aurelia. Twenty-eight years old and not the Demon King yet. If I killed him now, the man who murdered me could never exist. Simple and very clean! Except my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I ignored them, so I opened my laptop. Then a notebook. I wrote four words across the first page. SURVIVE. PROTECT. PREPARE. CHANGE. Underneath, I began listing everything I remembered. Food, water, medicine, weapons, safe locations. The first major blackout. The collapse of Blackwater District. The mutation. The first wave of infection. I wrote until my hand cramped. Then I stopped. The first thing I needed was money. The second was supplies. The third was my family. And Dorian? I stared at his name on the page. I drew a line beneath it. Dorian Wren ... deal with later. I leaned back.

"I'm not killing him today."

The words surprised me. Maybe because a small part of me wanted to know why he had looked at me like that before he killed me. I shut the notebook.

"No."

Whatever Dorian had felt, it didn't change what he had done. My phone buzzed. I picked it up. A news notification filled the screen. BREAKING: THREE INJURED AFTER MYSTERIOUS ANIMAL ATTACK IN BLACKWATER DISTRICT. My stomach dropped. I opened the article. The report described an animal found attacking pedestrians near a research facility. Strange wounds and unusual aggression. Authorities were calling it an isolated incident. I stopped breathing, the f**k! I remembered this. Not from yesterday, from last week but from my first life. This happened after the apocalypse. Three weeks after the blackout. I read the article again. Then a third time. My fingers went cold.

"No."

I checked the date. August 23rd. The attack happened today. I grabbed my notebook. The page with my carefully written timeline stared back at me. For the first time since waking up, certainty cracked. I had remembered the future perfectly. At least, I thought I had. A second notification appeared. AUTHORITIES URGE RESIDENTS TO REMAIN CALM. I stared at the screen. The apocalypse was supposed to begin in one hundred days. So why had the first warning sign already arrived? I slowly stood.

"If this is happening now ... "

My voice died in my throat. Then I whispered the only thing I was sure of.

"The future has already changed."