Regressing Through the Apocalypse with the Third Male Lead-Chapter 14

Freyah pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Monica. "We won’t be coming home tonight due to some unforeseen events. But we’ll be back before noon tomorrow. Stay safe and do not go outside and open the gate."

The earlier nights of the apocalypse was always the most dangerous, especially during the early days when people were still learning to adjust and adapt to the chaos. That was why it was strongly advised to stay indoors or in a safe place during the night, only resuming travel or tasks in the daylight.

To Freyah, whether it was night or day didn’t make much of a difference. However, she wasn’t willing to take any risks since she had two people with her who were experiencing their first apocalypse. If she had been alone, she would have continued without hesitation, stopping for nothing.

But as she had vowed in this life, she wouldn’t take reckless actions that might jeopardize her current plans especially if she had people with her.

She would never... never wanted to see someone die in front of her.

Thinking about it, Freyah found it ironic. She had sworn not to rely on the guide that led her to these events, and yet here she was, using it to her full advantage.

Freyah stopped the motorcycle and removed her helmet, letting the cool air brush against her face. Memories ran through her mind.

"We were at Robinsons that time," Tatay Timothy said, his voice filled with nostalgia.

"Which Robinsons?"

"Robinsons Manila," he clarified, his eyes momentarily distant. "You see, back then, Cherylle and Cheral—my grandkids—they’d just finished their final exams for the first semester. I always made it a tradition to treat them after all their hard work, so we went to the mall."

"They’re lucky to have a grandpaps like you, Tatay Timothy," Freyah remarked with a small smile.

"No," Tatay Timothy corrected, shaking his head. "I’m the lucky one. They gave my life a new meaning after everything."

Freyah looked at the massive mall looming in front of her, its shadow stretching across the deserted road. Memories of laughter and shared moments played out in her mind like a distant dream, now haunted by the grim reality surrounding them.

"There will be more zombies here," she said after a moment, her tone sharpening. "Harley, climb up to the top of that waiting shed and cover us while we clear the way."

"We?"

Freyah turned to Florence, whose gaze was firmly fixed on the left side of the road, avoiding hers entirely. His clenched jaw and stiff posture spoke volumes. She could almost hear his unspoken thoughts: After all the hurtful things you said to me, now you’re asking for my help?

She took a deep breath, her resolve unwavering. "Yes, we. Now, let’s move."

"Even if I ask you not to fight, I get the feeling that you’ll still do so," Freyah sighed, her voice laced with resignation. "But please, don’t do anything reckless beforehand."

This time, Florence fixed his gaze on her. "And you’re fine with getting hurt instead?"

"Like I said, you’ve seen my skills. It’s nothing—I won’t die that easily anyway."

"Hah." Florence let out a weary sigh, as if conceding the argument.

Freyah, however, ignored his reaction. Internally, she sighed as well, though she didn’t let it show. Without another word, she carefully scooped Harley into her arms and leapt onto the post, then onto the roof of the shed at the waiting area in front of the mall.

Once there, she scanned the area. There were far more zombies than she had anticipated, their slow, jerking movements creating a tense atmosphere.

"Be careful," Harley said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, we will," Freyah replied firmly. "The cell is still working. I saved my number on your phone. Call me if anything happens."

Harley nodded, his small hands clutching her tightly for reassurance. Freyah leapt down from the roof, landing with practiced precision beside Florence.

"Your Highness, be careful. I’ll go ahead. Please follow closely behind," she instructed, her tone resolute.

"I will, Milady," Florence replied, his voice steady despite the danger ahead.

Freyah dashed toward the nearest zombie, striking its head with precision. Without pausing, she moved to the next one, then another. The faint hum of electricity filled the air as some of the mall and street lights flickered. It had only been 28 hours since the apocalypse began, so the power grid was still clinging to life.

The battle lasted 30 minutes, much faster than before, thanks to Florence helping from the beginning. Freyah swung her weapon at another zombie, slicing through its decayed skull before pulling out her knife. She glanced back, and there he was.

Florence was a vision of calculated ferocity. Zombies fell around him as he moved with effortless grace, his blade glinting under the dim light. With every strike, ice erupted, encasing his enemies in crystalline frost.

Now, he stood surrounded by a frozen battlefield, the grotesque forms of zombies immortalized in ice. His platinum hair gleamed like silver under the lights, a perfect match for his icy magic. In the novel, they called him the Ice Prince on the battlefield—not for his demeanor, but for the deadly elegance he displayed in combat.

Even in the midst of slaughter, no blood was spilled, only shards of ice that danced in the air. The particles sparkled like snow, creating a surreal, almost hypnotic scene. It was as though the ice itself bent to his will, crafting an illusion of beauty in the chaos—a prince waltzing through a frozen storm.

Those who witnessed the scene couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Freyah once thought it was odd and simply just an exaggeration when she read about it in the novel, but standing here now, she realized it wasn’t entirely untrue.

Florence had just killed the last zombie guarding the entrance. He paused for a moment, turning to face Freyah, who had been silently observing him.

"I’m done, Milady," he said calmly.

Freyah gave a brief nod and turned away. "Yes..." she murmured.

’Florence is strong,’ she admitted to herself. It was a fact she couldn’t deny. But Freyah had encountered countless strong people before...

And in the end, none of them stayed.

Eventually, she was left to roam the world alone. So even if Florence was strong, it wouldn’t matter. He only needed to watch out for himself.

Because, no matter what happens, I will survive, Freyah thought with unwavering resolve.

---

They entered the mall cautiously. Shattered Christmas decorations littered the floor, and a massive Christmas tree had toppled over. As they stepped inside, the zombies in the vicinity instantly noticed them.

As if starved for days, the horde rushed toward Freyah and Florence without hesitation.

Freyah leaped into action, swiftly launching into a killing spree while Florence supported her from behind. The fight lasted nearly an hour due to the sheer number of zombies, but in the end, they managed to clear the ground floor.

Breathing steadily, Freyah approached the floor map mounted near the entrance.

"This way," she said, pointing toward the security room. Without hesitation, she led the way. The room, located on the same floor, was guarded by two zombie security officers, but Freyah eliminated them with ease.

Inside, some of the CCTV screens were blank, but most were still operational. She scanned the monitors carefully, her eyes flickering from one feed to another. Then, her gaze froze on a particular screen, and for the first time in a long while, a genuine smile lit up her face.

"Tatay Timothy... so these are the grandchildren you’re so proud of," she whispered.

On one of the monitors, inside a storage room, two young faces peeked out from behind a large pink and white sign.

"We are here! Save us!" the sign read.

Relief washed over her. These were the twins she had desperately messaged on Messenger before the outbreak. Though they were strangers, survival in this world often meant clinging to even the slimmest chances of hope.

Her message had gone to both siblings. She had worried they wouldn’t take it seriously, due to the fact that she was a complete stranger in this lifetime but seeing them alive now was proof that at least some part of it reached them.

---

Her message had been simple yet urgent:

I am Freyah. There will be a zombie apocalypse tonight at 7 PM. If you want to survive, go straight home and avoid the mall, no matter what. I know you like going there after your exams, but please listen.

If you think this is a prank and ignore my warning, watch for a power outage at 6:55 PM. If it happens, run and find a safe place to hide in the mall.

Do not leave your hiding spot until I come for you. I will track you down using the CCTVs and leave a note like this if you can’t contact me:

"We are here! Save us!"

Don’t include my name in any reply, but trust me—I will come for you.

---

Without wasting another second, Freyah dashed toward the storage room where they were hiding. Located on the third floor in the grocery department, it wasn’t far, but every second felt like an eternity.

’Just a little more... just a little longer,’ she thought, her excitement growing with each step. Most of it came from knowing she was about to save Tatay Timothy—an old friend she had failed to protect in her previous life.

Reaching the door, Freyah banged on it urgently. "It’s me, Freyah! Open up!" she called, knocking repeatedly.

She heard the sound of a lock clicking on the other side. When the door opened, a cautious yet hopeful voice greeted her.

"Freyah? Are you the one who texted my grandson and granddaughter?"

Her heart leaped. That voice was unmistakable.

Without thinking, Freyah pushed the door open, startling the old man inside. "Yes! Yes, it’s me, Tatay Timothy!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Her sudden action caught everyone off guard—Florence, Tatay Timothy, and the twins—but Freyah didn’t care.

"I’m glad," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’m not too late this time, Tatay Timothy. You’re all safe now."

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