Chapter 1: Death and Regret

Stella felt like she was dying—like all she wanted was to sleep.

The sensation of overwhelming fatigue was one of the many cruel manifestations of radiation sickness. Her body felt leaden, her eyelids heavy beyond measure, and her brain reduced to mush. It refused to form coherent thoughts, drowning in a haze of lethargy.

And yet, ironically, this near-catatonic state was one of the more merciful symptoms.

For decades, Stella had been at the forefront of the nuclear industry. She firmly believed that atomic energy was the future of humanity. She had thrown her life into it, tirelessly pushing the boundaries of science. But now, it seemed, atomic energy was claiming her as its sacrifice—just as it had taken her mother years earlier.

Did she regret it?

No. She did not regret her work. She had seen glimpses of humanity's future, steps toward a greater understanding of energy, and she was grateful to have been part of it. The problem was that her steps toward that "brilliance" were cut short, leaving her to die with unfinished business—regrets she could not ignore.

The sharpest of these regrets was deeply personal. She regretted not visiting her mother more often. If she had spent just one more evening, shared just one more dinner, perhaps her mother could have lived a little longer. And even if she hadn't, at least they could have made more memories.

But Stella knew herself. Even if she'd been granted that time, she probably wouldn't have cherished it. After all, humans rarely realize the value of what they have—until it's too late.

She regretted her lack of courage, too. There had been moments at work when decisions needed to be made, moments where her leadership was required. Instead, she hesitated. Stella wondered whether her regrets were caused by her indecision or the consequences of the choices she did make. Either way, the weight of those regrets now settled heavily on her chest.

She also regretted never having a family of her own. A wife. Children. But even that thought was mixed with relief—if she had, she might have condemned them to share in her fate, watching helplessly as sickness consumed her.

Regret after regret tumbled through Stella's mind like a relentless tide.

And then, with a bitter smile, Stella accepted it all.

Her body began to fail her, and she surrendered to the darkness.

SCREECH.

The sharp screech of brakes jolted Stella's fading mind. The sound was followed by a loud crash—a metallic cacophony like a car overturning. Then came screams, shouts, and, strangest of all, a familiar voice.

It was her mother's voice.

"Stella, the weather is so nice today. The sun is shining in. I took out your quilt to dry it. When you wake up, you'll be able to smell the sunshine again."

Stella was confused. Sunshine?

She could hear her so clearly.

"Don't let yourself get moldy, okay? Just like Luna—that scrappy cat of ours. When you wake up, you'll see how handsome he looks now. And your friends? They're all about to go to college, skateboarding down the road every day. You'll definitely get along with them."

Her voice quivered toward the end, and Stella thought she heard her choke back tears.

Bang! Bang!

There was a knock on the door. A nurse's voice followed. "Mrs. Li, you need to move your daughter. This room is being reassigned."

"Just two more minutes! Please," the woman—her mother—pleaded. "Two minutes is all I need."

The nurse sighed. "Two minutes, then. But you know the rules—you shouldn't be so close to her. It's dangerous for you."

"I know," her mother said quietly. Her voice trembled now. "I just want her to know... I'm sorry. I'll stop spoiling your fun, Stella, but..."

Her voice cracked completely.

Stella's heart jolted. That voice. That was my mother.

Suddenly, with every ounce of willpower, Stella forced her heavy eyelids to open. She gasped, dry and hoarse, her voice barely a whisper.

"Am I that playful, Mom?"

Her vision cleared slowly. Before her was a middle-aged woman with graying hair, her hands covering her face. She froze when she heard Stella's voice. Slowly, she turned to look at her. Tears filled her eyes.

"Stella—you're awake!"

Stella blinked, trying to process what had happened. She was alive. She had been reborn.

The woman was her mother—Maya Morgan, a strong woman who had given everything to raise her. She was a Latin immigrant who, by tradition, had adopted her husband's last name—Lee.

Stella's mind filled with fragmented memories. Three years ago, a freak accident involving a truckload of scrap metal had caused a collapse. She had been caught in it, and since then, she had never woken up. Until now.

Her mother had believed she would never wake up. The doctors believed it too.

Now, Stella lay weakly in her hospital bed, listening as her mother argued with the doctor outside her room.

"Mrs. Li, I'm sorry," the doctor said gently. "Your daughter's sudden recovery is remarkable, but her body is extremely fragile. Her condition is irreversible. Treating her further won't—"

"You're telling me to let my daughter die?" Maya snapped. "You're a doctor! Do something!"

"Mrs. Li, please understand. Her body has absorbed dangerous chemicals. The radiation damage alone—"

Stella couldn't bear to hear more. With tremendous effort, she slipped out of bed, landing ungracefully on the cold floor. Her limbs were stiff, unused for years. She crawled to the door and pushed it open.

"Mom," she rasped.

Her mother's head snapped toward her. Tears spilled over her cheeks. "Stella! You shouldn't be out of bed!"

"I'm fine," Stella lied, though every muscle screamed otherwise. "Let's go home."

Home.

The place Stella returned to was a small, single-family house in Queens—a far cry from the hospitals and laboratories she had once known. It was cramped, old, and quiet. But it was home.

Maya helped her settle into her old bed, where she lay surrounded by familiar warmth. The quilt, washed and sun-dried, smelled of fresh sunshine.

"Rest now, Stella," Maya said softly. She sat by her bedside, telling her stories of the neighborhood. Stories about friends she no longer remembered. Stories about cats, neighbors, and skating teenagers.

Stella listened silently, her mind racing. I've been reborn.

Then she heard it—a name.

"Osborne Group."

Stella's breath caught. Osborne. That name was familiar. It belonged to the infamous corporation in the Marvel universe. If that was true—if she was truly in that world—then perhaps her illness wasn't incurable.

Stella's mind spun with possibilities. She was an engineer, a scientist. She had overcome impossible challenges before. If she could master nuclear energy, surely she could master biotechnology and cure herself.

She lay still, staring at the ceiling, determination hardening inside her.

"I will absorb all the knowledge of this world," she vowed quietly. "I will change my fate through science."

Suddenly, a strange window popped up before her eyes. It was translucent, glowing faintly in the darkness.

[Yes, you can save yourself.]

[The personal panel is online. Your firm will has been rewarded.]

[Trait: The Heart of Evolution has been activated.]

Stella's pulse quickened as words continued to appear:

[Name: Stella]

[Trait: Heart of Evolution]

Heart of Evolution: Your learning ability has been greatly enhanced. Your mind will not be influenced by technological distractions.

"The heart of evolution," Stella thought, stunned. "My mind... I can master anything now?"

At that moment, Maya opened the door softly.

"Stella?" she whispered, stepping inside. "Are you okay?"

Stella turned to her, forcing her voice steady. "It'll be better tomorrow, Mom. I promise."

Maya froze, startled. For a moment, it seemed like she couldn't speak. Then she smiled through fresh tears. "Yes. Tomorrow will be better."

As the door clicked shut, the strange panel reappeared before Stella's eyes.

[Unstable energy may erupt at any time. Be ready to face the new world.]

Stella lay still, staring at the darkness. Her mind was clearer than it had ever been.

"This is a new world," she murmured. "And if there's anything I can do to help... I'll do it."

In that quiet room, under a quilt that smelled like sunshine, Stella prepared herself. Her mind raced with plans, and for the first time in years, she dared to hope.

Tomorrow would indeed be better.