Picking Up My Ex-Wife in the Apocalypse - Chapter 43

The infighting among the Awakened began inevitably, even without Si Qi’s baiting. On the final night, with only twenty-four hours remaining, someone released their energy first.

Those behind them followed like a pack of rabid dogs, twisting into a frantic, chaotic mess of curses, sobs, and screams of pain.

It was absolute madness.

Si Qi sat on the hillside, slowly shaking her head in the night breeze. Having survived countless pursuits over the past few days, she realized that no matter where she hid, they would find her within twelve hours. Consequently, they had discovered her preference for high ground.

The scent of blood drifted over on the breeze. Si Qi turned back to see Si Ruxu’s snow-white shoulder exposed, marred by a hideous, jagged crimson wound.

It was a wound Si Ruxu had taken for her. The residual energy of a Metal-type Awakened was still actively preventing the wound from clotting; the blood seeped out bit by bit, soaking half of her clothes.

Si Qi stood up, limping over to take the medicine from Si Ruxu’s hand. She lowered her eyes. “I’ll help you.”

The back of the shoulder was a difficult spot to reach. Si Ruxu had wanted to ask for help, but the words had died in her throat. Now, looking into Si Qi’s cool, detached eyes, she nodded gently.

Si Ruxu’s clothes hung loosely off her shoulder—perhaps to make the application easier. As Si Qi leaned in, the fabric slipped further, revealing the smooth line of the woman’s waist beneath her butterfly-wing shoulder blades.

A bit further down… Si Qi checked her gaze just in time. Her slightly hitching breath was caught by Si Ruxu, whose voice turned tender and concerned, masking a flicker of blatant calculation. “What’s wrong?”

Si Qi snapped back to reality, her voice heavy and raspy. “Nothing.”

She suddenly wanted a drink of water, but it would be too obvious.

The woman waiting for her medicine sensed the dryness in her throat. Her eyes filled with worry as she turned and handed a cup of water to Si Qi’s lips. In doing so, her loose clothing slipped even lower.

From such a close distance, amidst the intoxicating fragrance, the view was unobstructed. Si Qi’s brain short-circuited. She stopped her gaze just before it reached certain curves and gripped Si Ruxu’s clothes, wanting to pull them up, yet worried about aggravating the wound.

She was stuck, neither moving up nor down, her face gradually steaming into a deep red. Meanwhile, the woman before her acted as if she noticed nothing, her gaze pure and gentle, laced with worry. “Why are you so hot? Do you have a fever?”

Sickness in the Purge was a dangerous thing. Si Qi grabbed the edge of the cup while it was still in Si Ruxu’s hand and drank the entire cup of water. She then set it down with forced composure and cleared her scratchy throat.

“I’m fine. I just haven’t had water in a while. Can you… turn around?” It was a logical request for applying medicine, but Si Ruxu shook her head.

“My legs hurt too much. Can you just apply it like this?” Her tone was so cool and innocent that it made Si Qi feel like the only one with “dirty” thoughts.

Si Qi looked down and saw an identical wound on Si Ruxu’s calf. Her lingering flirtatious thoughts vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of pity she hadn’t even noticed she felt.

“Okay… don’t move.” She scooped out a large amount of ointment. Adopting a posture that looked like she was holding Si Ruxu in her arms, she leaned in to look at the shoulder wound. She used her fingertips to spread a thick layer around the injury as gently as possible. The person in her arms shivered slightly, letting out a soft whimper.

“Does it hurt?”

“No… keep going.”

Hearing the forced calm in her voice, Si Qi’s movements became even lighter. She sprinkled the medicinal powder and applied more ointment. The skin beneath her hand turned a faint pink. Small, rhythmic whimpers echoed in her ears despite her care.

By the time she realized what was happening, she was looking into Si Ruxu’s misty eyes. The corners were red, and she was panting lightly—looking for all the world as if she had been severely bullied.

“Is it a good view?” Si Ruxu hooked the fallen clothes back up, draping them loosely over her body. As her voice fell, flames erupted in the distance.

An explosion sent stones flying toward the peak. Si Ruxu stood with her back to the fire, half her body hidden in the darkness. Si Qi immediately threw her own coat over Si Ruxu’s shoulders.

This time, Si Qi didn’t teleport away instantly. She looked down the hill at the massive, surging crowd.

By chance, the crowd was looking at her… at them.

Si Qi stood beside Si Ruxu. Being slightly taller, she lowered her head, her gaze interlacing with the woman’s. The time on the sky-screen shifted from one day to twenty-three hours.

A warning beep began, sounding like an approaching guillotine, urging the humans who had yet to complete their task.

Amidst the alarm, Si Ruxu handed Si Qi a rocket launcher. Her voice was tender yet cruel: “Is it time to finish the mission?”

“Yes.”

Si Qi stretched her limbs. Another bomb was thrown toward them, but it exploded dozens of meters away. A shard of flying stone scratched her cheek again. She felt the dense, prickling pain in her bones—every ounce of it was a testament to the work of her pursuers over the last few days.

She propped up the launcher and aimed. Boom.

Everything slowed down in Si Qi’s vision. When she came to, the hillside in front of her had been leveled. There were no remains to be found of those who had been charging up.

Her arm fell limp, the launcher hitting the ground with a sharp metallic clang against the stone. She turned her head woodenly to look at the only other living being in this world.

Si Ruxu cupped Si Qi’s face with both hands, her eyes full of devotion. The healing energy from her fingertips slowly closed the small scratch on Si Qi’s cheek. Then, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss just beneath the healed wound.

The world’s alarm rang out again, a distorted voice echoing from the sky:

“Mission Complete. Commencing extraction from the Purge…”

“Mission Failed. Commencing elimination of anomalies…”

“Mission…”

Before the space warped, Si Ruxu saw a flicker of red light in the depths of Si Qi’s eyes.

*****

It woke up in a state of chaos, looking around with a dazed confusion. Its gaze finally settled on a single orb of light.

The familiar sensation made it leap with joy.

Mother, Mother…

But the Creator did not respond. It simply stayed by the light.

Mother, where is this place?

Mother, can we go outside? What is out there?

Mother… I’m hungry. Do I not need to eat?

There was no reply. Then one day, a thought appeared in its mind: it was a “failed creation.”

Whenever the Creator made a species like cats and dogs, he produced them in batches, giving them light and the ability to survive. He treated all life equally, until He created Humanity in His own image.

The First Human was raised by the Creator Himself. He cared for her like His own child, watching her take her first steps and hear her first words. He saw her youth and her vibrant spirit, and He saw her aged and fragile.

He wasn’t supposed to be soft-hearted. He was supposed to be equal to all. Such a creature shouldn’t have existed in such vast numbers. But He had been soft-hearted.

God had His own obsession. He kept the soul of His child, mixed it with countless other souls, and created many shells. Thus, the world was filled with humans.

The “Failed Creation” watched the humans on the screen and then looked at its own formless self, envious as a child looking at another’s candy. So, it left the light for the first time, stumbling toward the bright places. It passed the fragmented souls of other failed creations.

It didn’t care. It wanted to see the humans its mother loved so much. It thought they must be cute and kind, just like Mother.

So, before meeting the first human, it turned itself into a human shape—even if it wasn’t beautiful, even if its skin was dry and iron-grey. It thought it looked good. Looking like a human was “good.”

The child abandoned by its mother descended to earth with nothing but kindness for its mother’s favorites—only to be met with suspicion and used. Its blood was drained for its medicinal value. Its soul was shattered for “anomaly research.”

But it was a failed creation. Those who drank its blood lost their minds and became like it—rabid, biting, and insane.

It didn’t know what had happened; it only knew it had done something wrong. It wandered through the chaos. The air was filled with despair and smoke. And Mother’s rage.

Who made Mother angry? Was it me? Surely Mother wouldn’t be angry with humans; they are her most beloved children.

*****

When Si Qi woke up, she was in the Research Institute. Beside her, Si Ruxu’s eyes were bloodshot. Seeing her wake, tears pooled in her eyes once more.

“Don’t cry. I’m alive.”

“With me here, it’d be a miracle if you died,” a voice came from the door. A girl who looked seventy percent like Si Ruxu stood there.

Si Qi didn’t recognize her immediately; Si Luoheng tended to look different every time she appeared.

“I finally get it,” Si Luoheng said. “The first zombie had no malice toward humans. It was humanity’s research and harm that caused the mutation.”

“I thought you knew that already,” Si Qi said flatly, taking a sip of the pear soup Si Ruxu had made.

“Hmph. But what I didn’t expect, Si Qi, is that you are the First Human He created.”

The human He raised and accompanied for a lifetime. Her soul had gone through countless cycles of reincarnation, eventually becoming the Si Qi standing here today.

How could a Mother not love her child?

But if one child grew too powerful—powerful enough to greedily drink the blood of their mother and their siblings…

Si Qi was different. She was the one and only. His first child.

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