"Beep—beep—"
The shrill alarm cut through the chaos. Amelia's eyes flew open, her chest heaving with ragged breaths, cold sweat dripping down her forehead. Her hands waved instinctively in the air, as if still struggling to escape the darkness that had swallowed her, the icy touch of lake water lingering between her fingers.
The familiar scent of gardenia diffused into her nostrils, the soft silk sheets pressing against her skin—but she felt cold to the bone, as if she had just been fished out of icy water. On the nightstand sat a cup of steaming black tea—her usual morning drink—its surface etched with her favorite gardenia pattern. Yet at the sight of that warm liquid, a wave of physical nausea rose in her throat, as if she might vomit up the saltiness of the lake at any moment.
Stiffly, she lifted her hand, staring at her pale, slender wrist—unmarked, no signs of injury. She touched her neck next: no traces of the suffocation she had endured, only the steady thrum of a warm pulse, each beat a reminder that she was alive.
Barefoot on the cold floor, she stumbled to the vanity. The mirror reflected a young, vibrant face—no deathly pallor or swelling, just smooth skin and eyes still holding a hint of naive innocence, now clouded with shock and a lingering flicker of fear deep within. Her trembling fingers picked up her phone; the date on the screen made her heart clench, almost stopping entirely: March 12, 2035.
March 12, 2035?
She remembered the day Liam had pushed her into the lake—November 7, 2035, their first wedding anniversary. Which meant she had returned to eight months before her murder?
"I... I've been reborn?" she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement. Her fingers brushed the cool phone screen, the chill grounding her. She pinched her arm hard; the sharp pain confirmed it was no dream, no hallucination. She really had returned to the past, to a time before tragedy had struck.
After the ecstasy came a tidal wave of hatred—cold, overwhelming, submerging her completely. Memories of betrayal, of the despair before death, played like a movie in her mind: Liam's hypocritical smile, the coldness in his eyes as he pushed her, the contempt in his voice when he called her naive. Her whole body went cold, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She dug her nails deep into her palm; the sharp pain kept her focused. "Liam... this time, I won't let you get away with it. I'll make you pay a thousand times over for what you did."
Just then, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in her mind: "Detected strong will to survive and vengeful intent in host. Nexus System binding successful. Current timeline: March 12, 2035. 239 days remaining until host's original date of death."
A translucent silver-blue holographic interface appeared before her eyes, displaying her information and the system's functions. Amelia froze for half a minute—she had read about "systems" in novels, but never imagined one would actually appear to her. This was a gift from rebirth, a weapon for her revenge, the only ray of light she could grasp in the darkness.
"The name Amelia carries too much naivety and pain," she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her gaze shifting from shock to steely resolve. "From today onward, I am Eleanor Vance. Amelia died in that cold lake. What remains is Eleanor—here for revenge."
The system informed her that its basic Information Insight function could predict short-term trends for three stocks. She opened her mobile banking app, staring at the $52,000 in savings—money she had naively handed over to Liam "for management" in her past life, only to lose every cent. Her fingers glided over the screen; each number was a reminder of her former foolishness. This time, that money would be the starting point of her revenge, her first weapon against Liam.
"This is where it begins," Eleanor fixed her eyes on the stock information displayed on the system interface, her fingers tightening slightly. The pain from the wound in her palm flared up, only strengthening her resolve.