Apocalypse I have a system to raise children

victor Lancer

Unveiling a Nightmare

The scene shifted, revealing a scene that sent shivers down everyone's spines. A house, once filled with warmth and laughter, now stood desecrated, its windows shattered, furniture overturned, and the floor stained a sickening crimson.

Irina, her face streaked with tears and her eyes blazing with a cold fury, cautiously entered the house. Each step echoed in the eerie silence, amplifying the pounding of her heart.

As she moved deeper into the house, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. It was her own voice, echoing from the past, carrying a raw pain that resonated through the present.

The scene shifted again, showing a younger Irina bursting into a room. There, Nikolai, her little brother, stood hunched over a figure crumpled on the floor. The figure, bathed in blood, was unmistakably Sergei, their father.

A sickening metallic clang echoed as Irina's gaze fell on the bloodied blade clinking in Nikolai's hand. Her world shattered.

"Nikolai!" Irina's scream, raw and filled with disbelief, cut through the memory. "Why? Why him?"

The young Nikolai, his face contorted in a mixture of fear and defiance, looked up at his sister. "He… he was turning," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

Irina's body trembled, her anger warring with a deep-seated love for her brother. She wanted to scream, to rage, but all that came out was a choked sob.

Back in the present, the family room erupted in chaos.

"Nikolai? He… he killed their father?" A gasp escaped from one of the aunts.

"But… why?!" another exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.

Sergei's brother shekhar, tears welling up in his eyes, slammed his fist on the table. "I knew it! He was always a troubled child."

Veda, Irina and Nikolai's aunty, who had been watching the memories unfold with a stoic expression, finally spoke, her voice trembling. "It wasn't his fault. He was infected…"

Her words were drowned out by a chorus of disbelief and anger. The family, once united, began to fracture, the weight of the revealed memories threatening to tear them apart.

Amidst the cacophony, Irina stood frozen, her world turned upside down. The brother she loved, the one she protected, was the one who had shattered their family. The pain of the betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound, leaving her feeling utterly lost.

#Echoes of the Past

The scene on the screen shimmered and faded, replaced by another fragment of Irina's past. This time, it showed her kneeling beside her father's grave, tears streaming down her face.

"I failed you, Father," she whispered, her voice thick with grief. "I promised I'd protect them… but I failed."

A warm hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to see Viktor, his face etched with sorrow.

"It wasn't your fault, Irina," he said gently. "We couldn't have predicted…"

His voice trailed off, unable to find solace in empty words. The weight of their loss hung heavy in the air.

The family in the room watched the scene unfold in a stunned silence. The raw emotions displayed on the screen pierced through their hearts, forcing them to confront the tragedy that had shaped Irina's life.

"I never knew… I never knew about their father," one of the cousins whispered, his voice barely audible.

Anya, Irina's close friend, reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder in a silent display of empathy. The memories, though painful, were shedding light on the hidden struggles of the woman they thought they knew.

The Weight of Loss and Loneliness

The scene on the screen blurred, then refocused, showing a desolate graveyard bathed in the cold light of dawn. Irina, her face ravaged by grief, knelt beside a freshly dug grave. A simple wooden marker bore the inscription: 'Sergei Lancer - Beloved Father'.

Tears streamed down her face, each dropping a silent testament to the deep well of sorrow within her. The weight of her father's death pressed down on her like a physical weight, suffocating and relentless.

Irina's voice filled with despair "I failed you, Father. I promised I'd protect them… but I failed."

A hand touched her shoulder, but this time it wasn't Viktor. It was Petrov, a young soldier from the base, his gaze filled with a hesitant concern.
Petrov's voice soft " Irina, come back to the base. We need you."

Irina barely acknowledged him. Her gaze remained fixed on the grave, the memory of her father's lifeless face replaying in her mind. The warmth of his smile, the sound of his laughter – all seemed like fleeting dreams in the face of this harsh reality.

Irina's voice barely a whisper"What's the point? Everything's gone."

Petrov tried again, his voice laced with a hint of frustration.

Petrov says "We can't give up, Irina. There are still people alive. We have to fight for them."

His words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The spark of defiance that once burned brightly in Irina's eyes had dimmed, replaced by a profound sense of hopelessness.

Back in the live broadcast room, a tense silence hung heavy in the air. The family watched as the distance between Irina and Petrov became painfully evident. The warmth that had once been there was gone, replaced by a cold indifference.

Anya voice filled with concern "What happened to Petrov and Irina? They seemed so close before."

Mikhail voice gruff  "Loss does strange things to people. She's probably pushing everyone away."

Sergei scoffed.

Sergei's brother's voice is laced with bitterness "More like she's blaming everyone else for her father's death."

The room erupted in hushed arguments, the revelation deepening the existing cracks in the family dynamic. While some expressed empathy for Irina's grief, others focused on the blame game, their words further isolating her.

Meanwhile, the scene on the screen shifted again. This time, it showed Viktor inside the bustling military base, barking orders at a group of soldiers. His face was grim, his eyes shadowed with a weariness that belied his years.

The camera panned across the scene, revealing injured soldiers being treated, weapons being cleaned, and strategies being discussed on maps. It was a world of constant activity, a stark contrast to Irina's solitary mourning.

Viktor noticed a soldier approaching him, a worried expression on his face.

**Soldier:** Sir, we haven't seen Irina at the perimeter for the past few days.

Viktor's jaw clenched tight. A wave of worry washed over him, battling the constant undercurrent of resentment he felt towards his sister.

**Viktor (voice strained):** Find her. Now.

Despite the urgency in his voice, his heart wasn't fully invested in the search. He was a commander now, burdened by the weight of leadership. Irina, a constant source of worry and concern, had inadvertently become a burden he couldn't fully shoulder.

The memories on the screen flickered and faded, leaving behind a portrait of a family fractured by loss, each member struggling to cope with their own grief and isolation. The revelation of Irina's past had peeled back the layers, exposing the raw pain and simmering resentment that threatened to consume them all.