Ariciah crouched in the shadows of an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of a nearby city, her breath steady and controlled as she peered through the dust-covered windows.
This area will be valuable in the future because of the weapons it hides underneath the ground. I must get my hands ahead of time on them.
She had returned here because of a crucial memory from her past life, a hidden stash of weapons buried in the basement of a derelict police precinct.
The guns and ammunition had been crucial in her previous struggle to survive, but back then, she had arrived too late. This time, she was determined to get to them before anyone else.
As she crept along the edge of the building, her senses heightened, she froze at the sound of muffled voices nearby. Moving with silent precision, Ariciah edged closer until she could see the group gathered just outside the warehouse.
Why are they here?
They were survivalists, five of them, armed and alert, discussing plans and strategies as they huddled around a worn-out map of the city.
Did they also awaken talents?
Were they reborn too?
Or just trying to prepare because of the news?
How did they find this place?
She focused on their leader, a woman with a sharp gaze and a scar running down the side of her eyebrows. Ariciah recognized her immediately, Marla Raines. In her past life, Marla had become a local legend, rallying a band of survivors and creating a fortified safe zone during the early days of the outbreak.
Back then, Ariciah had heard stories of Marla's efforts, though she'd never had the chance to join them. Marla's group had been one of the few pockets of hope when the world had crumbled around them.
Now, standing only a few feet away, Ariciah felt a surge of uncertainty. She could see the same fierce determination in Marla's eyes that had made her a respected leader among the survivors. The group seemed well-organized. They discussed stockpiling supplies, reinforcing safe houses, and routes for potential escape when things went south.
"I say we focus on the outskirts first," one of the men suggested, his voice low but firm. "When the government collapses, those places will be easier to hold."
Marla nodded, tracing a line along the map with her finger. "We need to secure a perimeter before panic sets in. That's when people will be the most dangerous, when they're desperate."
Ariciah listened intently, absorbing every word. It was surreal, standing so close to them with her invisibility cloaking her presence.
She had thought about approaching them, maybe even offering her own insights. But the sting of betrayal from her past life held her back. She remembered all too well how easily trust could be shattered when survival was on the line.
For now, she chose to remain hidden, slipping around the side of the building to a better vantage point. She watched as Marla's group finished their discussion, and then dispersed, each heading off to their respective tasks.
Ariciah's mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She knew that joining forces with others could give her a better chance at survival, Marla's group had resources, weapons, and experience. But it also meant putting her life in the hands of strangers once again, and she wasn't sure if she could take that risk.
As the group disappeared into the city's shadows, Ariciah's isolation hit her with full force. She had spent the last few weeks entirely on her own, using her invisibility to gather supplies, watching the world through a veil of secrecy.
It was safer, she told herself, safer to remain unseen, to trust only herself. But watching Marla's group work together, hearing their plans and camaraderie, stirred a longing she had buried deep inside, a desire for connection, for something more than just surviving alone.
She shook her head, pushing those thoughts aside. She couldn't afford to be swayed by emotions, not now. Survival was her priority, and she couldn't risk becoming vulnerable to anyone. Instead, she focused on her original goal, slipping through a back entrance into the warehouse and making her way to the hidden stash in the precinct basement.
The air inside the building was musty, the floorboards creaking underfoot. Ariciah moved quickly, her flashlight casting long shadows against the peeling walls as she descended the stairs to the basement.
Dust motes floated in the beam of light, swirling like tiny ghosts. She found the old storage locker where she remembered the stash being hidden and forced it open, revealing a collection of firearms, boxes of ammunition, and a few tactical knives.
Ariciah let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. This was a small victory, a confirmation that her foresight could make a difference. She packed the weapons into her virtual space, knowing they would be invaluable once the apocalypse began.
But even as she secured the last of the ammunition, she couldn't shake the memory of Marla's determined voice, the way the group had spoken about their plans for survival. They had a sense of purpose, and a shared goal. Ariciah wondered if that was what she lacked, someone to share the burden of what was coming.
Climbing back up to the main floor, she paused at the entrance, staring out into the night. The city still looked normal on the surface, but she could feel the undercurrent of impending doom, like a storm waiting to break. She could sense the fear lurking beneath the everyday routines of the people she passed by, the ones who had no idea how quickly their world would change.
Ariciah lingered in the shadows for a moment longer, her mind wrestling with the question that had been gnawing at her since she first saw Marla's group. Should she remain a lone wolf, relying on her own strength and the power she had been granted, or should she take the risk of reaching out, of forming alliances?
The memory of the last time she had trusted others flashed through her mind, desperate faces, outstretched hands, promises that had shattered like glass.
I have experienced a lot even when I stayed away from the crowd and trusted no one.
She remembered the betrayal, the cold sting of realization that in a world stripped down to its rawest instincts, people often chose self-preservation over loyalty. Yet, she also remembered those few moments of unity, the fleeting sense of belonging that had made the struggle to survive feel less unbearable.
"Not yet," she murmured to herself, forcing the door open and slipping back into the cool night air. She wasn't ready to make that decision. Not until she was certain it wouldn't be a fatal mistake. For now, she would watch and learn, keep her distance while using the knowledge she held to prepare.
Ariciah moved back through the city's winding streets, her invisibility allowing her to remain unseen as she returned to her makeshift base. She clutched the weapons hidden within her virtual space, hoping that when the time came, they would be enough to make a difference.
She knew she couldn't avoid the question of trust forever, but for now, she clung to the safety of solitude, telling herself that this time, she wouldn't let anyone become a weakness.
As she moved into the shadows, the heaviness of her loneliness settled in her chest, but she pushed it aside. The world might not know what was coming, but she did, and that was her edge, the reason she could keep moving forward. Alone, but alive, and determined to face whatever came next.