Chapter 1

The entry rule for Eden, the post-apocalyptic S-tier Sanctuary, was strictly "Model Couples Only."

For 1,111 days, I played Garrett’s background wife, enduring radiation and schemes just to earn that golden ticket.

Right outside the gates, his "fragile" childhood sweetheart suddenly got infected, teetering on the edge of turning into a mutant.

Under the team’s watchful eyes, Garrett took the antidote serum meant for me and walked toward her.

"She needs this spot more than we do."

"Stay outside for now. Once she's cured, I’ll come right back for you."

The team cheered, praising his chivalry and devotion. Not a single person asked for my opinion.

They forgot one thing: I was the former Sanctuary Administrator—the only one who knew the access codes changed every day at sunset.

If the iris scanner hidden in the ring on my finger didn't unlock the gates by dusk, the entire Sanctuary would initiate a self-destruct sequence.

"Be a good girl, Luna. Hand over the serum."

Garrett's words sounded gentle, but his face was hard as stone. His outstretched hand didn't tremble for a second.

I stared at that hand—the same hand that had once warmed mine during bitter-cold nights in the wasteland, now reaching out to rob me of my last chance at survival. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

The vial of glowing blue liquid sat in my inner pocket, its cold shape pressing against me through my hazmat suit.

I had traded three months of rations on the black market to get it. I had almost been skinned alive for it. The bone-deep scar across my right arm was carved when I drew a pack of mutants away from the crew—all so I could enter Eden alive.

And now, he wanted to hand it to Chloe.

"Luna," Garrett pressed, his voice tight, his eyes refusing to meet mine. "Chloe can't hold on much longer. You know how fast the T-3 virus spreads. Necrotic spots are already forming on her skin. If she doesn’t get the shot now..."

"And what about me?" I cut him off, my voice hoarse, barely recognizable. "I have Stage Three radiation sickness. The medic told me I have three days to live at most. Can I afford to wait?"

Garrett froze, his brow furrowing into that familiar, troubled scowl.

I knew that look all too well. Over those 1,111 days, every time he had to choose between Chloe and me, he wore that exact expression—as if the entire universe were forcing his hand, as if he were the tragic victim trapped in an impossible dilemma.

"You're different," he finally muttered, his voice heavy with rehearsed solemnity. "Luna, you're stronger than Chloe. You're stronger than all of us. Just wait two days. Once I cure her and settle her in, I swear on my life I'll come back out to get you."

As he spoke, his right thumb subconsciously rubbed the left wristband—a tarnished, rusted scrap of metal I had forged for him on the day of our wasteland wedding.

What a joke of a vow.

"Garrett, please... don't fight with Luna because of me," Chloe's weak voice piped up right on cue. She leaned against another team member, face pale as chalk, eyes red like a frightened rabbit.

She lifted a trembling hand, her fingertips already darkening with the early signs of mutation. "It's my fault... I shouldn't have been so reckless, sneaking out to find fresh water... Cough... Let Luna go inside. I... I can wait for the next run..."

"The next run?" Carter snapped immediately. He was Garrett’s second-in-command and his most loyal dog. "Chloe, don't talk crazy! Once the T-3 virus kicks in, there is no next time!"

Garrett's expression hardened even further, tinged with irritation directed at me—as if my mere existence was guilt-tripping this pure, selfless girl into sacrificing herself.

Carter rubbed his hands together and stepped forward with a troubled grimace, his eyes darting toward my bulging backpack.

"Luna, there's another thing... What about your military-grade nutrient booster? Chloe is completely drained, and she needs the strength to pass the gate health check. Can you let her have it first? I mean, once you're inside Eden, supplies are everywhere anyway."

My spine stiffened.

That booster was the last legacy my dying mentor left me—synthesized using pre-collapse military tech. It sustained vital organ function and kept radiation sickness at bay.

I had guarded it with my life, never daring to use it even when starving, only opening the seal to lick the condensation inside the cap at dawn.

"Carter!" Garrett barked half-heartedly, offering no real pushback.

I looked at him, waiting for him to say one word in my defense.

He avoided my eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing before he said in a low, grim rumble, "Luna, look at the big picture. Chloe genuinely needs the nutrients right now. Give her yours first... When we get inside, I'll find you something better."

It wasn't even a question. It was an order.

Taking that as permission, Carter stepped in while I stood frozen. With a practiced click, he unbuckled my side pouch—a lock-picking technique I had personally taught him when he promised to protect me. Now, he used it against me.

He pulled out the silver vial, its metallic shell catching the cold glare of the Sanctuary’s spotlights.

"Thanks, Luna!" Carter let out a sigh of relief and turned to hand it to the female medic tending to Chloe. The movement was so smooth, as if it had belonged to Chloe all along.

Chloe bit her bloodless lip, fresh tears welling up. "How can I take this... That's Luna's... I can't..."

"Just take it!" Garrett's tone was firm, laced with raw affection. He took the vial himself, unscrewed the cap, and carefully guided it to Chloe’s lips, feeding her like a fragile songbird.

Only then did he look back at me, his eyes dead and calm.

"Luna, supplies can always be replaced. People come first. Be sensible."

People come first?

Did people come first, or did Chloe come first?