Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess
Chapter 223: Made it easier for her to escape

Chapter 223: Made it easier for her to escape

She didn’t have the strength to fight. It was clear she was risking her life she dared to throw a punch.

So when the door creaked open and boots stepped inside, slow and deliberate she didn’t move.

Not when the light from a flashlight slid across the far wall, not even when it landed briefly on her legs behind the pallets.

"There she is..." someone said.

Another pair of steps followed. Then a shadow shifted near the edge of her vision, and two men crouched down beside her hiding spot.

One wore a jacket with half a sleeve torn off and dark stains along the collar. The other had a scar down his cheek and eyes too bright to be calm.

"Still alive huh" the first muttered. "Barely."

Scarface reached forward. "Let’s get her up."

She let them. Her body was too weak to resist anyway, and even if she could, now wasn’t the time. So she slumped forward when they dragged her out, limbs like wet cloth, head heavy against her chest.

"Eyes open girly.." one of them ordered, giving her a light slap to the cheek.

She forced them open. Her vision swam, but she managed a faint nod. "Yeah... I’m awake."

The two men exchanged a glance. One looked amused. The other looked wary.

"You got a name?"

She gave them one, something simple and forgettable. "Xixi."

"Alright, Xixu. You’ve made a mess out there."

"Didn’t mean to.." she rasped.

"Did you bring that thing here on purpose?" Scarface asked, squinting at her.

She licked her lips. "It was chasing me. I didn’t want it near civilians."

The first man, the one with the torn jacket, tilted his head. "So you ran straight into our zone instead? Not very smart."

"Didn’t know anyone was here." She looked around slowly. "Didn’t even know this part of the city was occupied. I also don’t want to die."

He snorted. "It’s not. Not officially."

That made something cold settle in her gut.

Unofficial zones meant secrecy. Secrecy meant trouble.

As if reading her thoughts, Scarface leaned in, smiling just a little too wide. "You’re lucky we found you. If that thing had gotten closer, it might’ve torn this whole place apart."

"I didn’t mean to bring it to you," she repeated, her voice low.

"And yet you did..." the man said.

There was a pause. A silence that felt heavier than the wreckage around them.

Then he added.."You’ll need to answer a few questions."

She nodded faintly. "Fine."

"Can you walk?"

She tried to stand. Her legs buckled. One of them caught her before she hit the floor again.

"Thought so.." he muttered.

The two men exchanged another look, and then one of them lifted her not gently, but not roughly either and carried her deeper into the warehouse.

It wasn’t far. A makeshift stairwell led to a lower level, part basement, part storage.

Cold and dry, filled with crates and faded posters from a decade ago. A generator hummed in the corner, faint yellow lights swinging from hooks in the ceiling.

They set her down in a chair, bolted to the floor.

Then the door closed behind them with a dull click.

She blinked slowly. There was something wrong with the air here. The walls were stained. Not with grime but with odd symbols.

Circles. Lines. Strange curves intersecting.

All drawn in red.

That was when her stomach turned. She stared harder, and her breath caught.

It wasn’t paint.

It was blood.

Dried into the walls, smeared into patterns that reminded her of things she’d come across in her past life. Things about cults that worshipped what came from beyond the sky.

From beyond the Rift.

"Where... is this?" she asked.

One of the men stood in front of her now, arms crossed.

"You’re inside the sanctuary," he said. "And we have some questions."

Another man appeared behind him. Not one of the ones who carried her.

He spoke slowly. "Did you come through the tear?"

She blinked at him. "What... tear?"

"The sky. The one that opened two days ago. You didn’t fall from it?"

She shook her head. "No. I’ve been on the ground the whole time."

The man didn’t seem disappointed. Just thoughtful.

"You fought it. That thing. The Riftborn."

"I had to.." she said.

"How?" another voice asked. "You weren’t initiated. No partner. And yet you survived. You killed it."

She stayed silent.

The first man stepped closer.

"Would you like to join us?" he asked.

She looked up, startled. "What?"

"Our sect. You’ve touched the Rift’s energy. You’ve been changed by it. It didn’t kill you. That means something."

She gave the only answer she could, a tired, faint smile and a whispered, "I need rest."

They took that as a maybe. One of them laughed.

"She’ll come around. They always do."

She didn’t argue. Not because she agreed. But because her vision was swimming again, and the burn on her side had started to throb harder than before. Her body was shutting down, one slow piece at a time.

They left her there, tied loosely to the chair with rope that scratched against her wrists, and the symbols watched from the walls.

Her head dropped forward.

But her mind didn’t sleep.

She was already planning.

Already remembering every exit she passed. Every face she saw. Every word spoken.

And waiting for her strength to return.

Her breath came shallow now, but her thoughts were sharp. Each inhale brought a slice of pain, each exhale carried a vow: She would get out of here.

They thought they had time.

They thought the weakness in her limbs meant surrender.

But she’d survived worse.

She focused on the rope at her wrists, they were rough and coarse, but not tightened with skill. It bit into her skin when she tested it, but she welcomed the sting.

Pain meant awareness. Awareness meant leverage. She twisted her wrists gently, angling them downward, feeling for the slightest give.

There was some. Not much. Enough to remember she wasn’t helpless.

The door hadn’t been locked with a code, she’d heard a latch, not a beep.

In the dark, the symbols on the walls seemed to shift, or maybe her vision was still swimming. Her mind replayed what the men had said.

The Rift. Initiation. Sanctuary.

They weren’t just survivors. They were believers.

Worse than a cult , they were organized.

The way they carried her, the way they questioned her. They thought she belonged to something now. That surviving made her one of them.

She wasn’t. Not ever.

She’d seen what blind devotion did in her past life. How men and women gave up their minds in exchange for false power. How they traded humanity for something colder, more alien.

The Riftborn weren’t gods.

They were monsters.

And anyone who thought otherwise was already too far gone.

A sound broke her thoughts, footsteps above. Boots again. Not hurrying. Casual. Maybe a guard switching shifts, or one of the men coming back to gloat.

She stayed still, breathing low.

Time passed slowly. The yellow bulbs flickered overhead, swinging faintly with each vibration from the generator.

At some point, a rat scurried by near the crates. Even that startled her. She was on edge. Every muscle tense under the limp disguise of exhaustion.

The burn on her side had dried. The bandages were gone, she couldn’t remember if she’d even had any.

They hadn’t cared to check. Maybe they thought whatever was inside her now would do the healing.

They weren’t entirely wrong.

[You’ve gotten most of your strength back. But I tell ya, use less of the flames. If you don’t want to drain them faster.]

Qingran sighed "I also don’t want to hurt these innocent people. So I will try to leave quietly.."

[Got it. You’ll have do this on your own. Though I have to say there are many interesting people coming your way in this zone. I’m afraid you’ll be separated from your crew in a little bit.]

Qingran leaned against the corridor, she wondered why there was no one guarding her.

Didn’t matter, made it easier for her to escape. She didn’t want to destroy the whole place and leave them vulnerable to the rift.

"Ill just have to go through the roof then.."

She looked both ways, before creating a hole in the vent.

Qingran climbed through the vent, deep in thought. Why was the place so damn quiet and where was everyone.

-_-

[Having suspicions? Yeah something’s definitely up. But worry not, there’s nothing you can’t handle.]

-_-

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