Apocalypse: King of Zombies

"Let's move! We need to take them out before those rebel scum slip away again!" the young man barked, waving his arm with authority.

One of his teammates glanced over. "Jarek, shouldn't we wait for the other squads to catch up?"

"Wait? Hell no!" Jarek scoffed. "Those Outer Zone rats run like rabbits. By the time the others get here, they'll be long gone and we'll be left chasing shadows."

"Yeah… good point," the teammate nodded, then turned back to the controls, steering the aircraft toward the coordinates.

Jarek's eyes gleamed with excitement, his pulse quickening—not just from the hunt, but from something else entirely. Word was, Aria—the Inner City's number one beauty—was also part of this operation.

Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, she was the daughter of Claire, one of the most powerful figures in the Inner City. Her family background, her status, her looks—everything about her was top-tier, untouchable.

Naturally, Jarek had his own little plan. He wanted to make a splash in front of her, show off a bit. Who knew? Maybe he'd catch her eye. If he could win her over, his future would be set.

Of course, "win her over" was pure fantasy—he knew the odds were laughable. But even getting her to remember his name? That'd be a win in his book.

The aircraft sliced through the sky like a streak of lightning, closing in fast on the target zone.

"Jarek, looks like they're not running," the pilot said, squinting at the readout.

"Oh?" Jarek raised an eyebrow. Giving up already?

Moments later, the aircraft dropped sharply, crashing through the treetops with a cacophony of snapping branches before settling into a clearing.

The hatch hissed open, and Jarek and his squad stepped out, fully geared and armed to the teeth.

They scanned the area.

There, sitting on a massive boulder with a slightly chipped katana resting on his shoulder, was Ricky. Around him stood the rest of the White Robe Order—dust-covered, worn out, but eyes sharp and full of fight.

They looked like cornered wolves.

"Well, well," Jarek said with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. "You guys didn't run. That's cute."

He wasn't worried. Sure, they had numbers, but Ricky was the only SS-rank among them. His own team had multiple high-level Awakeners, top-tier gear, and the advantage in every category.

"You criminals finally give up?" he taunted.

Ricky grinned, baring his teeth. "Nah. I'm just in a good mood today. Thought I'd kill you for fun."

"Cocky bastard," Jarek sneered. "Take out the rest. Try to keep Ricky alive—we'll let the higher-ups deal with him."

"Hmph! No one… gets to judge me!" Ricky roared, and in a flash, he launched forward.

A wave of dark energy exploded from his body, forming a massive ghostly figure behind him—its face twisted in rage, its claws reaching forward with murderous intent.

"Thunder Strike!" Jarek shouted, lightning crackling across his body. He surged forward, his arm wreathed in electricity, clashing head-on with Ricky's katana.

Vrrrmmm—!

The katana, already dulled and chipped, let out a metallic wail as it met the force of Jarek's blow. The blade warped further, but Ricky didn't back down.

The impact was devastating.

The surrounding trees were shredded like paper, the shockwave clearing a wide swath of forest into a dead zone of splintered wood and flying debris.

Ricky gritted his teeth, fury boiling in his chest. The rage, the pain, the months of being hunted—it all surged through him, feeding the ghostly aura that wrapped around his body like a storm.

He clenched his fist and threw a punch.

BOOM!

The ground shook as if a volcano had erupted. The sheer force of the blow sent a shockwave tearing through the clearing, the air itself rippling from the impact.

Ethan stood quietly at the edge of the battlefield, watching with calm eyes.

So… he's reached SS-level already, he thought. And with that rage boost, he's pushing into SS+ territory.

It had been nearly nine months since they'd last seen each other. Ricky's growth was nothing short of astonishing.

He's almost caught up to me…

With that kind of power, Ricky could absolutely take down Jarek.

But the rest of the White Robe Order? They weren't so lucky.

Compared to the Inner City squad, they were outmatched—both in raw strength and in gear. The difference was obvious, and it was starting to show.

The Inner City Awakeners unleashed hell.

With Crystal Core Firearms in hand—each one doubling their energy output—they fired without restraint, energy blasts screaming through the air like a meteor shower. The sky lit up with streaks of deadly light, raining down on the White Robe Order like divine punishment.

The rebels had no choice but to hunker down and defend, barely holding the line.

"Heh, let's see how long you rats can hold out!"

"You think a bunch of Outer Zone rejects can take on the Inner City? What a joke."

"Next time, try being born somewhere better. Maybe then you won't die like dogs."

They hadn't even tapped into their own powers yet. Just the Firearms alone were enough to push the White Robe Order to the brink. Confidence radiated off them like heat.

But then—everything changed.

A strange force rippled through the air.

Space itself seemed to twist, then freeze.

In an instant, the entire battlefield fell silent. Time stopped.

Leaves mid-fall, branches mid-snap, energy blasts mid-flight—everything hung suspended in the air like a paused video. Even the Awakeners, caught mid-motion, were frozen in place.

The Inner City soldiers' smug expressions vanished, replaced by wide-eyed panic.

"What the hell is this?!"

"This power… it's insane!"

"I—I can't move! I can't breathe!"

Their voices cracked with fear, but before they could even process what was happening, they saw it.

A figure in a white shirt stepped forward through the stillness.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

One by one, the Inner City Awakeners exploded—bodies torn apart, limbs flung like ragdolls. Blood sprayed through the air in a crimson storm.

And when the carnage ended, only one man remained standing.

Ethan.

Not a single drop of blood touched him.

Behind him, the White Robe Order stared in stunned silence.

They looked at the mangled corpses littering the ground… then at Ethan's spotless white shirt… and their jaws dropped.

"Holy shit…"

"That's… that's the boss's boss?!"

"He wiped them out in seconds…"

They'd known Ethan was strong—but this? This was something else. This wasn't just power. This was goddamn divine judgment.

Their entire understanding of strength had just been rewritten.

Not far away, the battle between Ricky and Jarek still raged. The shockwave from Ethan's Domain of the Dead had caught their attention, and both fighters briefly turned to look.

Jarek's heart skipped a beat.

Zombie King? he thought, panic rising. He turned just in time to see his entire squad lying in pieces.

His blood ran cold.

But before he could react—

WHAM!

Ricky's iron fist slammed into his chest.

CRACK!

His ribs caved in with a sickening crunch.

"Avatar of Thunder!" Jarek roared, desperation fueling his last stand. Lightning surged through his body, fusing with his cells, his aura flaring wildly as he pushed his power to the limit.

Ethan glanced over, eyes narrowing slightly.

That move… looks familiar.

It was like a miniature version of Harren's "Wrath of the Thunder God." Same structure, same elemental fusion—just less refined.

Meanwhile, Ricky's rage had reached its peak. His aura exploded upward like a demonic pillar, his body wreathed in ghostly energy. He unleashed his strongest attack, a strike born of pure fury and vengeance.

The two collided mid-air like crashing comets.

BOOOOM!

The explosion rocked the forest. Thunder and shadow clashed in a blinding burst of power.

But it wasn't even close.

The lightning was swallowed whole by the storm of rage. Jarek's body was flung from the sky like a broken doll, crashing into the ground with a bone-shattering thud.

Blood poured from every pore. His body was wrecked, his organs failing, his life force fading fast.

Ethan walked over, calm as ever, and looked down at him.

"Your instructor… was it Harren?"

Jarek's eyes fluttered open, barely conscious. "How… how do you know that?"

Ethan didn't hesitate. "Because I killed him."

Jarek's breath caught.

His mind reeled.

No… no, it can't be…

He wanted to scream, to warn the others, to tell them to call off the hunt. The White Robe Order wasn't the real threat anymore—he was.

But it was too late.

His body gave out. His vision dimmed.

And in his final moment, one thought echoed in his mind:

A new tragedy for humanity… is about to begin.

…