Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 315

Chapter 315 Joanna And Glacier

Finished

Morning light in the villa did nothing to cut the heavy quiet. The name Bloodfang had soured their rest, but the crew’s exhaustion from the ambush had hardened into readiness. Joanna stood among them—all armed, all waiting in her pocket dimension. Julian’s fists crackled faintly with static; Will held his poisons leashed; Bubbles crouched, primed to pounce. Leaving them there, she stepped out alone.

Outside, the land was finally waking up. It was early spring, the very beginning of a long-awaited thaw following the worst, most brutal winter in recorded history. Thick, stubborn snowbanks were slowly turning to slush on the edges of the empty road where they had fought the night before, and the smell of wet earth hung heavy in the damp air. Yet, Dillon was miles away, well beyond the reach of a single spatial jump.

She braced her feet on the muddy asphalt, channeling her superhuman power as she locked onto a coordinate a mile away. Snap. The highway blurred. Without breaking her rhythm, she pushed her power/ again. Snap. The scenery shifted instantly, the muddy, slush-filled trenches of the wasteland flashing by in a disorienting blink. She leaped through space a third time, then a fourth, jumping several times in rapid succession to bridge the massive distance to Dillon. The continuous teleportation tore through the miles, the air cracking like thunder with every sudden displacement.

On her final jump, the biting, sub-zero winds of their destination slammed into her, a harsh reminder that winter hadn’t fully let go of this territory.

She materialized on a ridge overlooking a heavily fortified block. The contrast was stark. Down below, the perimeter was guarded not by concrete or wire, but by massive ice pikes jutting aggressively from the thawing earth. Pierced through the centers of these jagged spires were the dead, frozen corpses of zombies, preserved perfectly by the historic freeze, their grotesque faces locked in permanent, icy agony-a brutal warning to anything that dared approach.

My

At the center of this grim defense stood Glacier’s stronghold. While the rest of the world was beginning to melt, his building was completely wrapped in thick, translucent ice sheets, transforming a once-ordinary structure into a glittering, imposing ice palace that caught the pale spring sun.

To avoid any chance of detection from the mole and the traitor, Sam, Joanna wasn’t about to walk through the front gates alone. Gathering her energy for one last precise jump, she focused her spatial consciousness and locked onto a familiar coordinate deep within the frozen fortress.

With a final crack of energy, she bypassed the defenses entirely, teleporting directly into Glacier’s large office.

The sudden displacement of air made the frost-rimed windows rattle slightly.

From behind a massive, dark wooden desk, Glacier snapped his head up. Instantly, the air in the room plummeted by twenty degrees, arcs of frost crackling across his knuckles as his ice power flared in a defensive reflex. He looked ready to freeze the intruder where she stood, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and lethal intent at the sudden breach.

Then, his gaze locked onto Joanna.

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed, and the frost on his hands slowly receded into his skin. A faint, wry smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back in his chair.

“You know, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Glacier said, his voice smooth but carrying the chill of the landscape outside. “But it is good to see you, Demoness.”

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Chapter 315 Joanna And Glacier

Finished

Joanna didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She stepped forward, the absolute calm from the night before

radiating from her.

“There is a mole,” she said, her voice dropping to that dangerously low, steady register.

Glacier’s smirk vanished. The temperature in the room seemed to drop all over again, this time from pure tension. He looked at her for a long, quiet moment, measuring the gravity in her eyes, before gesturing toward the leather chairs arranged before his desk.

“Sit,” he told her.

Joanna didn’t sit. She remained standing, her posture rigid as she laid out the pieces of the brewing storm. just came from Fletcher in Westridge,” she explained, her tone flat.

A sharp, unmistakable sneer crawled over Glacier’s face. There was absolutely no love lost between those two men, a bitter memory of clashing egos and jealousy written in the sudden hardening of Glacier’s eyes.

Before he could voice his disdain, Joanna pressed on. “An army is coming our way, Glacier. They move like locusts. They’re ready to strip people of everything they own and pick the land clean of resources.”

Glacier’s chest rose and fell in a heavy, frustrated sigh. He nodded slowly, the anger fading into grim resignation. “I’ve heard similar reports,” he muttered, resting his elbows on the dark wood of his desk. “That’s exactly why I was trying to get word to you.” He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “I met a man named Elliot. He asked if I knew you.”

Joanna’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she remained silent.

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