Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler

This sewer hub branched off in multiple directions, a crossroads of ancient waste tunnels. Maxen stood in the center, surrounded by rusted pipes and ankle-deep filth.

Where the fuck is he?

"You really think you can hide from me?" Maxen muttered, scowling.

His skin still burned. His muscles screamed. And yet, the longer the silence dragged on, the more his rage overcame the pain.

The explosion had scared him—but no reinforcements had shown up. That meant it was just Axel's move. No backup. No cavalry.

Maxen grinned. "Let's see how long you last."

He pressed both palms against the wall. A deep red glow spread from his arms, running like molten veins through the surrounding metal.

The pipes lit up, glowing orange, then red-hot. Steam hissed as condensation sizzled and vanished. The heat rolled outward in waves.

The entire underground started to cook.

At the same time, a train bound from Ebonveil to Dune had just begun moving again.

In one of the rear cars, the passengers sat in stunned silence, staring at the gaping hole in the side of the carriage. Just minutes earlier, a massive man had lost his mind—smashed straight through the wall—and charged off into the wilderness at a speed that made the train look slow.

"Why the hell was he even on the train if he could run like that?!" someone had blurted out, echoing the thought on everyone's mind.

Out in the countryside, only a cloud of dust remained. Somewhere inside it, a human-shaped blur tore across the open land, moving so fast he barely registered to the naked eye. His phone, still in his hand, showed a conversation with Axel. One location pin.

"Danger. Come quickly."

Down in the sewers, steam hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of rot, rust, and decay. Most people would've thrown up just stepping into this place—but Maxen wasn't most people.

His eyes were red, veins bulging, and the Force was still pouring from him in waves. He was heating the entire chamber like an oven. He knew Axel was here somewhere. Just hiding. Using some trick he didn't understand.

Fine. Let's see how long you last in this heat.

Deeper within the pipe network, Axel was curled into himself. His arms were blackened, hanging limp. His eyes were shut. No energy. No Force. Not even a breath of life detectable.

But as the temperature climbed, his breathing grew heavier.

Maxen tore through the pipes one by one. Each time, he unleashed fire that melted metal and incinerated anything organic. Two minutes had passed since he dropped in, and he was growing more agitated with each passing second.

"Is the fucker really not here?" Maxen muttered.

Just then, a faint ripple—barely noticeable—brushed against his Force perception.

His head snapped toward it. Got you.

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Deep inside one of the red-hot tunnels, Axel lay still, skin flushed like overcooked meat. The heat hadn't killed him, not quite—but it had pushed him to the edge. He'd already drained most of his Force trying to heal the burns on his arms. Then he'd entered the Turtle Body state—a form that conserved breath, energy, and life signs, but consumed a brutal amount of Force.

He was running on fumes.

He knew that if he stayed in this state any longer, he'd never wake up again.

So he let go. He surfaced from the abyss of unconsciousness, and the fake death faded.

A bang echoed through the pipe. Firelight lit up the darkness. Steam hissed. Maxen emerged from a nearby passage, his body wrapped in roaring flame.

"Axel."He attacked the moment their eyes met. No words. No hesitation.

Axel didn't flinch. His gaze was empty—calm.

BOOM.

Suddenly, the ground trembled violently—another quake, nearly as strong as the one from the earlier explosion. Steel pipes groaned like tortured metal beasts, twisting under unseen pressure.

BOOM!

A second impact slammed through the sewer walls. A nearby passage collapsed, and a torrent of filthy water erupted outward. Then—

CRASH.

A massive figure shot into the chamber like a meteor, landing in the narrow space between Maxen and Axel and taking the full brunt of the flames meant to kill.

Maxen froze. That face. His pupils shrank in shock.

He instinctively reached for his phone—

Too late. The man before him didn't wait. A deafening, inhuman roar erupted from his throat, and he charged forward, ignoring the fire lashing at his chest. He plowed through it like a freight train made of muscle and rage.

"You deserve to fucking die," he growled.

Phoenix.

Only, this wasn't the same Phoenix from before. After activating his Awakening Skill, the gentle giant was gone—replaced by a living machine. A humanoid juggernaut. His body was warped, hardened, armored like a damn warbot.

The narrow tunnel couldn't even contain him. It splintered as he ran, pipes and debris exploding around him. In seconds, he was in front of Maxen.

Maxen's body reacted before his brain could. Shit. Too close.

"Damn it!" he cursed, panic lacing his voice.

Phoenix was burned, battered—but charging forward like a fucking demon on fire.

Maxen knew it: even though he and Phoenix were both Level 4, the gap between them was fucking massive.

He didn't know how Phoenix had gotten here, or why—but what he did know was that he needed to get out.

Boom! Flames erupted around him in a blinding blaze. The pipe walls and rotting infrastructure couldn't handle it. Everything within reach melted, and the surrounding sewer, already on the brink of collapse, gave way under the force of the blast.

"Goodbye," Maxen muttered, preparing to vanish into the smoke.

But then—"Eh?"

Out of the fire, a bloodied hand—veins bulging like writhing snakes—clamped around his neck with crushing force. Phoenix, still standing, still burning, ignored the heat licking at his skin like it was nothing.

"Lying bastard!" Phoenix roared, eyes burning with rage.

Maxen was stunned. What the hell?! His mind raced with a thousand unanswered questions. You were the one who lured me—how the fuck are you mad at me?

He kicked wildly, trying to break free, but everything was going fuzzy. His vision blurred. His lungs burned. Then—

Crack.

A sickening crunch echoed through the tunnel. His body spasmed once, then went limp.

Phoenix's bare, blood-slicked arms shook as he tore Maxen apart. Then, with a grunt of disgust, he hurled the severed head into the filthy water nearby.

The blood spread like ink through the sewer.

"Axel! Axel, where are you?! Talk to me!"

Phoenix's body began to shrink back to its original form, the monstrous musculature slowly fading. The fury melted off his face, replaced by panic, and then helplessness.

Back at Dune Station, the crowd swirled with the usual motion of arriving and departing passengers. But one man moved with deliberate focus, shadowing a hulking figure ahead of him.

"Huh?"

Seth rubbed his eyes. Just a moment ago, he could've sworn Phoenix was right in front of him. But now\\... the guy looked smaller. Normal.

He scanned the area—there were plenty of people, but none with that distinct build. None who matched Phoenix.

Something was off. Really off.

Sweat broke out on his back. If he botched the mission Maxen had given him...

"Sir, excuse me—" He stepped forward to tap the man on the shoulder, hoping to confirm whether he'd lost track.

The man turned, newspaper in hand. A chubby, middle-aged guy with a round, blank face.

"Yeah?" the man said flatly.

Seth blinked. No way. He had followed the guy the whole way here—without blinking. There was no fucking way this was someone else.

But... the face. It was completely different now.

If his own skills were stronger, maybe he'd be able to see through the disguise.