Jules left the house mid-morning, shortly after securing her father's card.
The air outside was cool, carrying an illusion of safety.
Three months.
She had more time than she'd ever been given in any of her previous lives, yet it still felt alarmingly brief.
In her past lives, movement had always been essential. The moment they stopped, the moment they allowed themselves to believe they were safe, something inevitably happened.
Death came faster to those who believed they were safe.
Jules stepped onto the train platform.
The station was crowded with the morning rush. Hurried footsteps echoed across the tiled floor, blending with the squeal of brakes as trains arrived and departed. People stood in small groups, sipping coffee, complaining about delays, and discussing their plans for the day.
Ordinary conversations.
Ordinary lives.
A woman beside her laughed into her phone, promising someone she'd be home in time for dinner. A few feet away, a father adjusted his daughter's backpack before sending her toward the school entrance across the street.
Jules looked away.
They don't know.
They didn't know how little time they had left.
When the train arrived, she boarded quietly and settled into a window seat.
Her destination was Clearwater.
More specifically, Pinnacle Tower.
She had never lived there herself, but she knew enough about the building to understand its value. Kian had spoken of it during their eighth life, describing the place his family had once called home.
He'd purchased several floors for his family and guards, then bought the penthouse simply because he hadn't wanted anyone living above them.
At the time, Jules had thought the reasoning almost ridiculous.
After everything they'd survived together, however, she understood the appeal of having one less direction from which danger could come.
Unfortunately, the tower hadn't saved him.
When the apocalypse began, Kian had left with his parents, grandparents, and guards to retrieve his siblings, who had been caught on the road when the zombies appeared.
By the time they attempted to return, the building had become a nightmare.
The first five floors had been open to the public. Shops, restaurants, recreational facilities, and other businesses had drawn thousands of people through the building.
When the infection spread, those crowded spaces became death traps.
The residential tower above had separate entrances and elevators, restricted to residents and authorized visitors. Leaving had been possible.
Returning was another matter.
The lower structure had been overrun, and the surrounding streets were no better.
Kian and his family had been forced to abandon the place.
They eventually established another base in a different town.
But this time, I know what's coming.
Jules watched the buildings pass beyond the train window.
She wouldn't wait until the streets filled with zombies. She wouldn't wait until people began fighting over food, medicine, and a place to sleep.
She would secure the tower before any of that happened.
Her phone rested in her lap, displaying a growing list of orders and expenses.
Two warehouses secured.
Food and medical supplies prioritized.
Seeds, treated timber, irrigation equipment, generators, and machinery ordered.
International shipments arranged.
And far too much money already charged to her father's card.
Jules exhaled slowly.
He was going to notice.
He might already have noticed.
She could almost picture him standing at the front door when she returned, holding his phone and demanding an explanation for the transactions.
That conversation would not be pleasant.
But it could wait.
She opened the contact information for Clearwater Pinnacle Realty and placed a call.
A woman answered after the second ring.
"Clearwater Pinnacle Realty. How may I assist you?"
"I'd like to schedule a viewing at Pinnacle Tower. I'm interested in the residential apartments, preferably on the higher floors."
"Of course. Are you looking to rent or purchase?"
"Purchase."
There was a brief pause as the agent checked the available listings.
"We currently have several units available on Floors Fifteen and Eighteen. Unfortunately, most of the upper residential floors have already been accounted for."
Jules wasn't surprised.
Kian had already placed deposits on Floors Nineteen through Twenty-One.
She knew that much.
What she didn't know was when he would arrive.
"And Floor Twenty-Two?" Jules asked.
"The penthouse?"
"Yes."
"That unit is currently under contract. The buyer is finalizing the remaining payment."
Jules tightened her grip on the phone.
Not for long.
"I'd still like to view the available apartments."
"Certainly. I can meet you at the property this afternoon."
They agreed on a time, and Jules ended the call.
For a moment, she stared at her reflection in the darkened phone screen.
Something bothered her.
Not the penthouse. Not the money.
Something else.
Am I forgetting something important?
She searched through her plans again.
Warehouses. Supplies. Transportation. The tower.
Nothing stood out.
The feeling remained, faint but persistent, like a word balanced on the tip of her tongue.
Eventually, she put the phone away.
There was no use chasing a memory that refused to surface.
She had too much to do.
Clearwater came into view an hour later.
Jules stepped off the train and immediately noticed the difference.
The city had always been designed with security in mind. Surveillance cameras were mounted openly along streets and building entrances. Wide roads separated large structures, allowing room for emergency vehicles and heavy traffic.
Even the pedestrian routes seemed unusually deliberate.
In another life, she might have admired the planning.
Now, she saw potential escape routes, places where barricades could be erected, and intersections that would become impossible to cross once abandoned vehicles clogged the roads.
Her gaze moved from one camera to another.
How many of these will still work after the power fails?
People flowed around her, unaware of the calculations running through her mind.
Jules continued toward the boulevard.
And then she saw it.
Pinnacle Tower.
It rose above the surrounding buildings, massive and unmistakable, its upper residential structure extending from the roof of an enormous five-story complex.
It wasn't particularly beautiful.
There were no delicate curves or ornamental towers meant to impress passing tourists.
Its design was practical, almost severe.
But that was what made it valuable.
The original building had once been a modest five-story affordable housing complex, built for function rather than luxury. Years later, the property had been purchased and transformed through extensive reconstruction.
The lower five floors had become a commercial and public center, while a separate twenty-two-floor residential tower had been constructed above them.
The residential tower had its own floor numbering, beginning at Level One above the commercial structure.
From the street, the two sections looked like a single enormous building.
Jules stopped across the boulevard and studied it.
The old structure formed a broad foundation beneath the narrower tower. The residential levels rose high enough to overlook much of Clearwater, while the lower commercial complex occupied a substantial portion of the surrounding block.
A vertical city.
That was how Kian had described it.
A place where people could shop, eat, exercise, receive medical treatment, and access essential services without traveling across town.
The commercial levels contained a mall, convenience stores, restaurants, an arcade, gyms, a clinic, an urgent care center, and a police office.
All convenient.
All dangerous.
Jules remembered what Kian had told her about the first days of the outbreak.
The shops had been packed.
People had rushed inside searching for food and shelter. Others had tried to escape through the same entrances. By the time anyone understood what was happening, the crowds had become impossible to control.
And then the zombies came.
This time, those entrances need to be secured before the first one appears.
She crossed the boulevard.
The residential entrance was separate from the commercial complex, with its own security checkpoint and elevators. Residents could enter without passing through the crowded shopping areas.
Jules appreciated that distinction.
It wouldn't be enough on its own.
But it was a beginning.
As she approached the entrance, translucent text flickered across her vision.
[Structure Analysis Complete.]
[High-Density Survival Infrastructure Identified.]
[Base Potential: High.]
[Survival Optimization Possible.]
[Control Limitation: Apex Node Occupied.]
Jules slowed.
Apex Node?
Her eyes moved toward the uppermost floor.
The penthouse.
Another line appeared.
[Optimal Apex Node Location: Residential Level 22.]
[Apex Core Deployment Unavailable.]
[Ownership Requirement Not Met.]
Then the interface faded.
Jules continued walking.
The System had given her more information than she'd expected, but not enough to explain what an Apex Node actually was.
She knew only that the tower possessed something the System considered valuable.
And that she couldn't access it yet.
Floor Twenty-Two.
She looked up again.
Of course it has to be the one floor I can't buy.
The real estate agent was waiting inside the residential lobby.
She was a neatly dressed woman with a practiced smile and a tablet tucked beneath one arm.
"Jules? It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad you could come on such short notice."
"Thank you for arranging it."
"Of course. We have several beautiful units available. The residential tower has only been open to residents for five months, so everything is still relatively new."
She guided Jules toward the elevators.
Unlike the commercial entrance, the residential lobby was quiet. A security officer sat behind a desk near the entrance, and residents passed through controlled access points before reaching the elevators.
Jules noted the cameras, the doors, and the distance between the security station and the elevator bank.
One entrance.
Several possible bottlenecks.
Useful for keeping people out.
Potentially dangerous if everyone needed to leave at once.
The elevator doors opened.
As they ascended, the agent began explaining the building's layout.
"The lower residential levels have four apartments per floor. They're smaller units, but they're popular with young professionals and smaller families."
Jules listened.
"The middle levels offer three apartments per floor, with larger living spaces and better views. Then Floors Nineteen through Twenty-One have two premium residences per floor."
"And Twenty-Two?" Jules asked.
"The penthouse occupies the entire top level."
The agent smiled.
"It also has a private rooftop area and a helipad. Quite an impressive property."
A helipad.
Jules remembered Kian mentioning it.
In their eighth life, he'd spoken about the penthouse almost casually, as though purchasing an entire floor with a private landing area had been no more significant than buying another car.
She'd wondered then what kind of life he'd lived before the world ended.
Now she was beginning to understand.
"Is the penthouse still under contract?" Jules asked.
"Yes. The buyer is in the process of completing the purchase."
"Has the sale closed?"
"Not yet."
Jules nodded.
That was all she needed to know.
For now.
The elevator stopped.
The first apartment they toured was 15C.
It was unfinished, with bare walls, exposed sections of flooring, and an awkward layout that made the rooms feel smaller than they actually were.
Jules walked through the space without speaking.
Too many narrow passages.
Too few practical storage areas.
The windows were positioned poorly for ventilation.
She could already imagine nine people trying to move through the apartment during an emergency.
No.
It wouldn't work.
The next unit was 18B.
It was larger, with a more open living area and additional bedrooms, but the positioning of the surrounding structures limited the sunlight entering several rooms.
The agent pointed out the kitchen finishes and modern appliances.
Jules barely looked at them.
She was studying the windows.
The walls.
The location of the stairwell.
The distance to the nearest elevator.
She wasn't choosing a home based on how attractive it looked.
She was choosing somewhere her family might have to survive.
Finally, they entered 18A.
Sunlight spilled across the floor through broad windows, illuminating a spacious living area. The layout was more open than the previous units, with better airflow and fewer awkward corners.
Jules walked slowly from room to room.
It still wasn't enough.
Not for nine people.
Not permanently.
But it was better.
And it was available.
As she approached the window, the System appeared again.
[Selected Unit: Residential Level 18, Unit A.]
[Estimated Survival Probability: 79%.]
[Optimal Apex Node: Level 22.]
[Whole-Structure Integration Unavailable.]
Jules stared at the words.
Seventy-nine percent.
She had survived with worse odds.
Much worse.
But this wasn't only about her.
Her parents.
Her siblings.
Everyone she had watched die, again and again.
Seventy-nine percent isn't enough.
Yet she couldn't afford to leave without securing something.
Floor Twenty-Two was unavailable.
The other upper floors were already accounted for.
And time continued slipping away.
"I'll take this one," Jules said.
The agent turned toward her.
"Excellent choice. Would you like to begin the purchase process?"
"Yes. I want to place a deposit and have the agreement prepared."
"Certainly."
They returned to the office area to review the paperwork.
Jules read through the documents carefully before signing.
The deposit would secure the apartment under her name, with the remaining purchase requirements to be completed according to the agreement.
She handed over her father's card.
For a brief moment, she hesitated.
Then she remembered the first life.
The second.
The fourth.
The fifth.
The sixth.
The eighth.
All the times she'd wished she'd acted sooner.
She authorized the payment.
The agent handed her the confirmation documents.
"Congratulations, Jules. Unit 18A is now reserved under your purchase agreement."
"Thank you."
Jules slipped the paperwork into her bag.
Before leaving, she turned back.
"One more thing."
"Of course."
"If the penthouse becomes available, I want to be contacted immediately. Before it's offered to anyone else, if possible."
The agent considered her request.
"I can note your interest and contact you if its status changes. I can't guarantee you'll have the first opportunity, but I'll make sure your request is recorded."
"That's fine."
"And would you like to be notified about any other premium units?"
"Anything above Floor Eighteen."
The agent entered the information into her tablet.
"Done."
Jules gave a small nod.
She'd secured a foothold.
Now she needed the top.
Outside, the afternoon noise struck her almost immediately.
Traffic moved steadily through the boulevard. Pedestrians crowded the sidewalks, and the smell of food drifted from nearby restaurants.
Jules stepped aside to check her phone.
Several notifications waited on the screen.
More purchase confirmations.
Messages from suppliers.
Another bank transaction alert.
Her father's card.
She stared at the growing expenses.
He's definitely going to kill me.
The thought almost made her laugh.
Almost.
She knew he wouldn't actually hurt her.
But she could already hear the questions.
Why had she rented two warehouses?
Why was she ordering industrial generators?
What did she need with so much food?
And why, of all things, had she placed a deposit on an apartment in Clearwater?
She didn't have answers she could give him.
Not yet.
She had promised herself two weeks.
Two weeks to prepare enough that her family might begin to understand she wasn't acting on a whim.
Two weeks before she told them the truth.
Jules locked her phone.
As she turned toward the market district, a conversation from a nearby café caught her attention.
"…Cortell Holdings' CEO has been charged with tax evasion…"
She slowed.
A news broadcast played from a screen mounted near the café entrance.
"…with several assets frozen pending further investigation. Questions remain regarding ongoing financial obligations and properties connected to the company…"
Jules looked toward the screen.
Cortell Holdings.
The name was familiar.
Not because she'd dealt with the company personally.
Because she remembered Kian.
In their eighth life, he'd mentioned that the penthouse had become available after its previous buyer failed to complete the purchase.
He'd acquired it shortly afterward.
Two weeks.
That was how much time she remembered having before Kian bought the penthouse.
But the investigation was already underway.
And the sale hadn't closed.
Her pulse quickened.
The ninth life was not following the eighth perfectly.
She'd known that was possible.
Knowing it and seeing the evidence were two different things.
If the contract falls through earlier this time…
She could lose her opportunity before she even realized the property was available.
Jules pulled out her phone and checked that the agent's contact information had been saved.
She couldn't force the current buyer to default.
She couldn't predict when the property would return to the market.
And she had no intention of approaching Kian yet.
But she could be ready.
Floor Twenty-Two will be mine.
The thought settled firmly in her mind.
Not because she wanted the penthouse.
Not because she cared about the view or the private rooftop.
But because the System had recognized it as the key to the entire building.
Without it, Apartment 18A was simply an apartment.
With it, Pinnacle Tower might become something capable of surviving what was coming.
And if the System could reinforce the structure before the apocalypse began...
Jules stopped herself.
She still didn't know what missions it would demand.
Or how difficult they might be.
The System had never promised that survival would be easy.
Her phone vibrated again.
She glanced down.
[Shipment Confirmation Received.]
[Estimated Arrival: 15 Days.]
Jules exhaled.
One more order moving forward.
One more thing she wouldn't have to worry about today.
She scrolled through the remaining notifications, checking the warehouse delivery schedules and supplier confirmations.
For a moment, that same uneasy feeling returned.
There's something I'm forgetting.
She frowned.
Then another message appeared, requesting confirmation of a delivery address.
Jules opened it, verified the information, and sent her response.
By the time she locked her phone again, the feeling had faded.
She slipped the device into her bag and continued toward the Belmira market district.
There were still supplies to purchase.
Still people to contact.
Still an entire base to secure.
And somewhere above Clearwater, on the twenty-second residential floor of Pinnacle Tower, was the one thing she needed before the System could truly begin.
Three months remained.
For the first time in nine lives, Jules had a chance to prepare before the world fell apart.
She intended to use every second.