The water of the revitalization spring enveloped April’s skin like a warm, liquid silk.

The moment she submerged herself, a soft gasp escaped her lips as the pure, concentrated vitality began to actively knit away the physical strain of her muscles and nerves.

The deep, heavy fatigue pulling at her melted into the glowing current. More than that, the phantom aches—the echoes of brutal injuries from her past life that had burned themselves into her muscle memory—finally began to quiet down.

She acted like it was fine but it had been there. The screams, the torment... the pain... Having her flesh eaten from her skin... If she didn’t recall the end, then maybe she would’ve been fine.

But pain was part of growth, they say. So she did not regret it, especially the knowledge that she had been betrayed. She would keep it etched in her mind so that she would never fall into such a situation where she was vulnerable and used again.

The spring’s water did not reach the ache in her heart, but it did do wonders to her body.

​Leaning her head back against the smooth stone edge of the pool, she looked up at the floating digital timer that tracked her thirty-day stay limit.

It was slowly, steadily counting down, giving her more than enough time to just exist in the quiet luxury of her own mind.

​As she drifted in the luminescent water, a cynical smile touched her lips.

If anyone from the old world could see her now, they’d probably judge her.

They’d look at her massive storage of bulk resources, her plans to secure high-end medical supplies, and her hunt for billionaires in order to increase her assets, and they’d assume she was trying to build a savior’s haven. A base for humanity. A sanctuary for heroes.

But it was all nonsense since she was no one’s hero. If the world wanted her to be a hero, it would have to first start by believing in the supernatural which is impossible since they would just view her as a shady or ominous person wishing the world bad and she didn’t have time for that crap. And then second, they’d have to pay her.

For all it’s worth, be it the apocalypse or now, it’s every man for himself. She thought, closing her eyes as the water gently lapped against her collarbone.

​She wasn’t building a sanctuary for others and she definitely wasn’t going to warn a world that would end up blaming her for its misfortunes later. She wasn’t that dumb and she didn’t care.

Right now, she was too busy building a fortress and a safe haven for herself.

The apocalypse was an unpredictable, chaotic nightmare where a single miscalculation could strip a person of everything. True, she had the revitalization spring to heal wounds and cleanse toxins now, but relying solely on one asset was a rookie mistake.

In the apocalyptic wastes, a situation could easily arise where she might be separated from her space, blocked from entering it, or caught in a position where her mind couldn’t afford to be absent.

​Having an arsenal of traditional medicine, surgical equipment, and top-tier doctors wasn’t about being a hero—it was about absolute redundancy.

It was about ensuring that under no circumstance would she ever be backed into a corner where she had to venture out into the dangerous, blood-soaked world unprepared.

She would hoard every single type of resource imaginable until her safety was absolute, airtight, and entirely self-sustaining.

​As the spring water continuously restored her energy, a new, sharp spark of ambition ignited in her chest.

​She looked down at the shimmering, iridescent liquid surrounding her. The space upgraded and granted me this spring... but can I take the water out?

​If she could manifest the revitalization water into the physical world, the possibilities were astronomical.

In a pre-apocalyptic world full of aging, desperate billionaires and powerful elites terrified of disease, a single vial of water capable of erasing cellular fatigue and flushing out incurable toxins would be worth more than diamonds.

She wouldn’t just make millions; she could manipulate the global elite like chess pieces and extract the kind of extreme wealth needed to fund her airtight dome project.

​And even after the apocalypse hit, clean, toxin-cleansing water would be the ultimate currency. She could buy armies, compliance, and secrets without ever having to lift a finger or leave the comfort of her fortress.

​"I’ll have to test the extraction limits tomorrow morning then," April murmured to the silent, vast expanse of her dimension.

​But for now, the soothing warmth of the pool was too perfect to disrupt. Shielded from the outside world by reinforced mountain rock and locked behind the absolute privacy of her suite, April let her guard down completely.

She allowed her body to drift seamlessly into a deep, restorative sleep right there in the glowing water, letting the spring heal her from the outside in.

...

Meanwhile, somewhere a couple of miles away from Xavier Reed’s mountain estate was a commotion that April was unaware of.

April had already concluded that one of Alexander’s guards may be a spy, but if they were or not, they had taken precaution so they had no clue where his grandfather was being relocated to and could not report back.

It was a smart move, but if only she had thought of that earlier, because what she did not think ahead was that spy reporting to their employer about her involvement in the disappearance of the chairman, and Alexander’s sudden outmaneuvering tactic.

The sharp sound of thick tumbler glass shattering against the door echoed in the study. The scent of expensive, aged scotch immediately carried across the room in a tense, suffocating wave.

​Harvey Greels didn’t care about the mess. His chest heaved beneath his vest, his hands trembling with a rage so toxic it turned his vision white around the edges.

​"Say that again," Harvey hissed, his voice dropping into a low, lethal register that made the shadow standing near the office doors flinch. "Say it exactly the way you just did, so I can decide whether to believe you or bury you."