Victor and I were nothing more than a pair of sworn enemies married inside the camp. He hated me for handing over my frail sister to the research institute, all so they could extract the antiviral serum from her blood. And I hated him for never seeing anyone but her, even in the apocalypse, when she could barely lift a metal rod.

For the ten years of the apocalypse, the words we said to each other most often were, "Die a miserable death."

…

However, when the zombie horde finally broke through the last line of defense, he chained me to the modified mech truck and went out alone to face it.

"Live…"

I watched as the tide of corpses swallowed him whole, the crack of breaking bones mixing with the sound of flesh being torn apart. On the edge of death, he pulled out my sister's faded photo and placed it over the one clean spot on his chest. "This life is yours. But if there's a next one, don't go near her again."

…

That night, when I returned, I blew up the camp.

When I opened my eyes again, I went to the zombie king.

His razor-sharp claws closed around my throat, and I smiled as I took hold of his hand. "Let's make a deal. Give humans five more years, and I'll willingly be your queen."

Last time, he gave his life to save me. This time, I'll be the monster—so they can all get what they want.

The Choice

"Anyone who dared lay a hand on Anya would have to kill me first!"

Victor Lorant's voice cut into my ears like a blade. I jerked my head up and saw him standing protectively in front of my sister, glaring at me with murderous eyes.

My heart clenched hard. He was supposed to be dead. He had already given his life in the zombie tide to save me.

"Victor, let it go… If sacrificing myself could save everyone, then I'm willing." Anya Quinn's frail body trembled as she spoke through quiet sobs.

Victor's eyes glimmered with pain as his fists tightened, his knuckles turning white. "No. I won't stand here and watch something happen to you."

The standoff hung in the air until the head of the research institute stepped toward me. "Chief Quinn, Ms. Anya was bitten by a zombie, but for some reason, she hasn't turned. If we could study this, we might be able to develop an antiviral. That would be a contribution to all of humanity." His eyes gleamed with a fanatical light.

In my last life, Anya had died in this same institute, and still, the antiviral had never been created.

I pressed my lips together and looked up at the two of them in the distance.

Victor's gaze carried a solemn promise. "Anya, don't worry. I'll protect you. If anyone dares to touch you, they'll have to trample over my body first." His dark eyes softened with tenderness as he looked at her.

The three of us—Victor, Anya, and I—had grown up together. But the whole time, she was all he could see.

I had trusted the institute's lies in my last life and delivered my sister into their hands, only to watch her die in agony. In the end, Victor had died for me.

When his eyes met mine now, all I saw was hatred. "Anya is your sister. Do you even realize what you're doing? I've never met a woman in this world as vicious as you! Do you even have a heart?!"

He had always been so gentle, yet the words he threw at me cut like knives.

"Fine. Let her go," I heard myself say.

"I'm warning you, if you so much as lay a finger on Anya—" He stopped midway, as if suddenly realizing what I had just said. "What did you say?"

"I said I'll let her go."

Victor froze, disbelief written all over his face. "Zoe Quinn, what are you trying to pull now?!" He pinned me with his eyes, unwilling to believe a single word.

Shackled by Hatred

I looked back at him and, all of a sudden, felt exhausted. "Get out. Before I change my mind." My voice was hoarse as I turned away.

He left with Anya without so much as a backward glance. I stood rooted to the spot, my nails digging deep into my palms.

The institute director came up to me, his face full of dismay. "Chief Quinn, do you realize what you've just done? Without a cure, humanity is doomed!"

I drew in a long breath and swept him with a cold gaze. "Are you so sure? Or is it because your daughter had feelings for Chief Lorant and he rejected her in front of everyone that you came up with this scheme?"

My words hit home, and for a long while, he could only point at me in speechless rage. Finally, he gave a cold laugh. "You're good with words. I'll be waiting to see how you explain this to everyone."

"That won't be your concern. I'll handle it." With that, I turned on my heel and walked away.

My stomach burned with hunger as I returned to the cold, empty quarters. The quartermaster's icy words still rang in my ears. "Chief Lorant took your rations. He exchanged them for refined grain to give to Ms. Anya."

My fingertips went numb. If Victor could even take the food I needed to survive and offer it to her without batting an eye, what exactly was I worth to him?

Dark spots clouded my vision as hunger hollowed me out. I curled up on the floor, too weak to move. In that haze, it felt as if I had fallen back into my last life.

Every year on my sister's death anniversary, he had taken my rations to trade for her favorite flowers. I would faint from hunger, then retaliate by scattering three days' worth of his food. But whenever he was close to death, I would throw him a single mouthful just to keep him alive.

Five years of torment—neither of us giving in, neither of us dying.

My breathing grew faint, darkness closing in around me…

"Zoe Quinn."

A cold, deep voice broke through.

I forced my eyelids open. Standing silently in the shadows was Magnus Sutter, the zombie king. His pale, gray eyes betrayed no emotion. "You agreed to marry me. For the five years of truce, I will keep my promise."

The urge to question him rose, but my body was too drained—I couldn't muster a single word. Magnus noticed my state. A moment later, a heavy can of meat landed at my side. Then, with a blur of shadow, he was gone.

The instinct to survive crushed everything else. I grabbed the can and devoured it in desperate gulps. With food in my stomach, strength began to seep back into me.

I was just pushing myself up against the wall when—bang! The door slammed open with a violent kick, and Victor stormed in like a vengeful demon, his eyes bloodshot.

"Zoe Quinn! I should have seen through you long ago, you vile wench!" He seized me, his hand clamping around my throat, slamming me against the wall with brutal force.

The suffocating pressure swallowed me whole, sharp pain pricking my chest like a thousand needles.

That look in his eyes—it was the same as in my last life, the same gaze he had thrown at me countless times.

"Let go…" I clawed at his arm with every ounce of strength. His hand twitched under the pain, then he flung me aside.

The impact sent me crashing to the ground, but in that instant, I saw his hand twitch forward on reflex, only for him to clench it tight and yank it back, leaving nothing but venomous hatred burning in his gaze.

However, before I could even catch my breath, he grabbed my arm like I was nothing more than a carcass and dragged me out with brutal force.

In the middle of the square, Anya was surrounded by a hostile crowd.

"What's the big deal about sacrificing yourself? It's for all of humanity—you should see it as an honor!"

"Useless! If it weren't for Chief Quinn and Chief Lorant, you'd have been zombie food already! And now you won't even lift a finger to help. Ungrateful wretch!"

"That's right, nothing but an ungrateful parasite!"

Branded the Villain

Trash and stones rained down on my sister as she cowered, trembling. She sobbed like a frightened rabbit, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry. I really am…"

Victor's eyes burned red with fury and anguish. He lunged forward, shielding her tightly in his arms, and roared at the crowd, "Shut the hell up!"

Then, he lifted his head, his ice-cold gaze stabbing into me like a blade. "Zoe Quinn! Didn't you say this has nothing to do with you? Prove it!"

A cruel smirk curved his lips as his voice rang across the square. "Do you know how this zombie tide came to be?"

Then, he shot his finger toward me. "Our very own Chief Quinn ignored all warnings and went alone to provoke the zombie king! She enraged it and brought this disaster down on us!"

Every pair of eyes turned on me, wide with disbelief.

"Zoe Quinn, we trusted you. That's why we made you our chief."

"You risked all our lives just to make yourself look good?!"

The flood of curses nearly swallowed me whole. I stood frozen, blood turning to ice in my veins.

Across the square, Victor gently wiped away Anya's tears and held her close, whispering comfort into her ears. The sight cut me deeper than any wound. He, more than anyone, knew why I had stormed into the zombie king's lair.

I had done it to save him.

He had thrown himself into the zombie tide for nothing more than a bag, just because Anya had once said she liked it. He had been captured by the zombie king. Everyone said he was as good as dead. But I—no matter what—needed to see him, even if all that was left was his corpse.

And now, to shield the woman he loved, he twisted the truth and pinned the crime on me.

Even knowing what it would cost, he would do anything for Anya.

Victor lifted her into his arms and carried her away. As he passed me, his eyes never strayed from her face. Not for a single moment did he spare me even a glance.

I watched his back as he left, every step sharp with resolve, without a shred of hesitation. My heart grew colder and colder. My fists clenched so tightly my nails bit deep into flesh—yet I felt no pain at all.

I straightened my back and stood still as the furious mob shoved and cursed, venting all their rage on me. I tried to calm them, tried to assure them I would take responsibility, but my words fell on deaf ears. The hatred engulfed me. They poured every ounce of resentment from this apocalypse onto my head.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, my voice hoarse but steady. "It was my fault. Don't worry, I'll do everything I can to make it right."

Just like that, years of hard-won respect crumbled in a single moment. The crowd finally dispersed, still heavy with anger.

…

When I returned to my cold quarters, I found a familiar charm lying at the door—a simple knot, crafted with Victor's own hands. No one else knew how to make it.

But was it a belated apology? Or just payment on Anya's behalf?

I picked up the delicate knot, its threads cool against my fingers, and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Foolish thing." Then, without hesitation, I tossed it into the trash.

…

The next morning, someone knocked at my door.

When I opened it, the last person I expected was standing there.

I looked at my sister, emotions tangled in my chest. I had no idea how I was supposed to face her.

She clasped my hand gently. "Zoe, you're still the same as when we were kids—stubborn in a way that makes people ache for you."

I pressed my lips together, saying nothing.