Chapter 31: Four Months to Burn

Ramona braced for impact, but hit a bed of roses instead.

Ash-stained, blood-drenched, and still breathing, she pushed off the soft grass and scanned the horizon. No wasteland. No crumbling skyline. Just a sprawling stone manor dripping with enough gold leaf to make a billionaire look broke.

Her hand snapped to her belt. Fang was still there. Her memories were intact.

No enemies. Seven guards total. Professional placement, high-caliber hardware. Someone important lived here.

The manor's front doors slammed open. A maid sprinted into the sunlight, skidding to a halt. "Miss Ramona! You're awake!"

Ramona’s knuckles turned white on Fang’s hilt. "Name."

"E-Elena."

"How do you know me?"

"Because you're the General's daughter."

Before Ramona could process the absurd word, heavy combat boots thundered against the stone driveway. A towering man in a medal-pinned dress uniform swept into view—graying hair, jaw carved from granite, eyes like forged steel. High-ranking. Lethal.

His glare locked onto her, then instantly cracked. "Ramona."

Not fear in her chest—recognition. But it wasn't hers. It belonged to a ghost.

She dropped into a low, predatory stance. "Who are you?"

The General froze. "I'm Gary."

Ice flooded her veins. Gary? Her Gary died behind the reinforced glass of a crawler, screaming her name as the Gate tore him apart. This man was older, harder, but those eyes were unmistakable.

"I watched Gary die," Ramona's voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "In the first life."

A suffocating silence fell over the estate.

"You remember another life?" Gary asked, his voice steady. "I believe my daughter. Four months ago, you vanished during the northern campaign. We searched for weeks."

Four months? To Ramona, the Gate had swallowed her five seconds ago.

"What year is it?"

He answered, and the blood drained from her face. The date was four months before the apocalypse. Four months before the Gates opened. Four months before the world bled out.

She looked at her reflection in the manor’s grand window—same scar, same cold eyes, but younger. Human.

"Four months," Ramona murmured, her grip tightening on her blade. "I have four months until the end."

Thrum.

A low tremor vibrated through the soil. The windows rattled in their frames.

At her hip, Fang began to pulse with a crimson glow. But the energy wasn't coming from the blade—it was rising from deep beneath the estate's foundation.

A rasping voice echoed directly inside her skull. Ramona...

Instincts took over instantly. Weak points, choke points, escape routes—her mind mapped the battlefield in milliseconds. "Clear the house," she snapped. "Everyone out. Now."

Gary didn't budge. "You've been back five minutes—"

"And something under your floorboards just called me by name!"

The marble steps split down the middle. A subterranean roar detonated beneath the estate, shattering the upper-story glass.

Ramona flashed a sharp, humorless grin, drawing Fang in one fluid motion. "Looks like we're having a family reunion."

The earth tore open—and deep below the mansion, an ancient eye unclosed.