Apocalypse: King of Zombies

"What the hell are these people?"

Bloodrose's sharp eyes swept across the battlefield, her expression darkening. She couldn't believe she'd actually gotten injured—because of them. The more she thought about it, the more pissed off she got.

Meanwhile, the Genesis Biotech Awakeners had also taken notice of Brandon and his crew.

"Wait a sec—aren't those guys with the Black Hand Legion?"

"Shit! We got played!"

"Take that bastard out!"

"..."

Fury surged through the Genesis Biotech squad. Without hesitation, they raised their Crystal Core Firearms, energy cores glowing as they opened fire on Brandon.

"Don't you dare touch my Brandon!" Griffin snapped, eyes blazing. He raised his machete and charged straight at the Genesis Biotech Awakeners.

What no one expected—was how fast he moved.

His body blurred, leaving afterimages in his wake. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of them.

"Holy crap, he's fast!" one of the Awakeners gasped, scrambling to draw a blade.

Close-quarters combat erupted.

But Griffin moved like a phantom—fluid, precise, deadly. He weaved through the chaos like a dancer, his machete flashing with lethal grace.

With a single upward slash, he knocked a weapon clean out of one attacker's hands. The next swing—straight through the man's neck. Blood sprayed.

Three moves. Two kills.

The Genesis Biotech squad was already down several fighters.

Chris's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? Since when was Griffin this badass?"

"No clue…" Brandon muttered, equally stunned.

Wait… is this some kind of hidden protagonist power-up?

"Maybe it's the power of love?" Leah offered, stroking her chin like a philosopher.

"..." Brandon was speechless. He remembered when Griffin had first arrived at the L.A. shelter—just a low-tier Awakener who'd barely formed a Neurocore. Hell, the guy had taken a hit to the balls, and everyone thought he was basically useless.

And now?

"Dude got his balls busted and awakened," Chris whispered, half in awe.

Griffin's blade flashed again—another Awakener's head went flying, blood arcing through the air like a crimson fountain.

The machete gleamed, slick with gore.

Griffin's eyes were sharp, focused—like a hawk zeroing in on prey.

"No distractions. Just blade…" he muttered, voice low and cold.

"Uh…" Chris and the others froze for a second.

Meanwhile, another young man—also a victim of the "busted balls" club—watched with tears in his eyes, like he'd just witnessed a divine revelation.

"OG… is this the new path you spoke of?" he whispered, trembling with emotion.

...

Elsewhere, Ethan was still being hounded by Sable and his three Cyborgs. He wasn't engaging head-on—just dodging, weaving, conserving energy.

Sable's attacks kept missing, his strikes slicing through empty air.

Worse, some of her blows were landing in the middle of the Black Hand Legion's own ranks, causing chaos and casualties.

"This Zombie King is way too slippery," Sable growled, eyes narrowing.

Vanessa, watching from the side, was even more frustrated.

Look at this damn hotshot and his idiot friends… can't land a hit on the Zombie King, but sure as hell managed to kill a bunch of our own.

Ethan stood in the distance, white shirt fluttering in the wind, his figure almost mirage-like against the barren landscape.

Untouchable. Unreal.

But then—

Behind him, dozens of glowing energy spheres suddenly shot into the sky, then came raining down like a meteor shower.

Ethan looked up. The sky was filled with elemental energy—fire, ice, lightning—all released through crystal cores. It looked like a galaxy of stars, each one pulsing with deadly power.

"Retreat."

He vanished in a flash, reappearing far from the impact zone.

But even there, more elemental blasts were incoming.

This time, Ethan didn't dodge.

He raised his hand—and unleashed the power of the Domain of the Dead.

A wave of necrotic energy surged outward, deflecting every incoming attack like a shield of death.

"So we're doing sneak attacks now?" he muttered, eyes narrowing.

He turned—and saw them.

Thousands of drones rising into the sky, their engines humming like a swarm of angry hornets.

Then the ground began to shake.

Armored vehicles thundered across the battlefield, kicking up clouds of dust and smoke like a steel stampede.

Behind them—rows upon rows of soldiers in sleek nano-combat suits, armed with Crystal Core Firearms and blades, moving in perfect formation.

Their presence was overwhelming.

No doubt about it—Richard's so-called "Ultimate Defense Line" had arrived.

Surrounding the lead armored vehicle were seven bald young men, each radiating an intense, almost suffocating aura. They moved like a personal honor guard, their presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier.

The armored vehicle rolled to a halt with a low mechanical growl. A moment later, Richard emerged, climbing up to stand atop the vehicle like a general surveying the battlefield.

His eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence as they locked immediately onto Ethan.

There he was—the infamous Zombie King of Los Angeles. The one whispered about in every Genesis Biotech war room. SS-rank threat. The orchestrator of the undead tide. And now, finally, face to face.

Truth was, their conflict had started way back in the early days of the apocalypse. But Richard had always stayed in the shadows, pulling strings from behind the scenes. This was the first time they were meeting head-on.

"Zombie King of Los Angeles," Richard said, his voice low and commanding, "you've run out of places to hide."

Ethan's eyes scanned the horizon. On both flanks, Genesis Biotech Awakeners were pouring in, closing the circle. They were surrounding him from three directions.

And behind him? Sable and his elite Perfect Team, ready to strike.

Richard smirked, continuing, "We've been at this for a long time. But in the end, I came out on top."

Ethan's gaze didn't waver. So this was the man behind it all—the puppet master of Genesis Biotech in North America. The one who'd backed Sophia and Nathan from the shadows. The one who'd been pulling the strings all along.

"Looks like it's time to settle this," Ethan said calmly.

"Oh?" Richard raised an eyebrow. "I'd love to see what tricks you've got left."

The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on.

Even Chris, Brandon, and the others—who'd seen their fair share of chaos—were visibly tense.

Everywhere they looked, Genesis Biotech forces were closing in. It felt like standing in the eye of a storm, with a tidal wave of enemies about to crash down.

And it wasn't just numbers. The enemy had tech—serious tech. High-grade weapons, advanced armor, and no less than seven fourth-generation Cyborgs, each one a walking war machine.

"This is insane," Chris muttered, brows furrowed.

"Genesis Biotech's gone all in," Brandon replied grimly. "And not just locally—this is their entire North American force."

"Shit…" The others sucked in a breath. Just imagining the scale of power arrayed against them was enough to make their skin crawl.

And on top of that, there was the Perfect Team—custom-built to take Ethan down.

This wasn't just a battle. It was a full-blown execution plan.

"Gotta admit," Leah said quietly, "Richard might be a bastard, but he's a damn competent one. You can call him ruthless, but you can't call him incompetent."

In the middle of it all stood Ethan, alone, calm, unmoving. The infamous SS-ranked Zombie King, now fully exposed under the eyes of thousands.

People stared at him from all sides—some with fear, some with awe, and some with a twisted kind of excitement.

"So that's the legendary Zombie King of L.A.?"

"He looks exactly like the file said. Supposed to be insanely dangerous."

"Dude wiped out half the country. And now we've finally got him cornered."

"What's he gonna do now?"

"..."

But Ethan didn't flinch. Surrounded by enemies, he didn't even blink. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the distant horizon, and with a voice like a whisper from the grave, he spoke a phrase that hadn't been heard in a long, long time.

"Dinner's ready…"

"What?"

The Genesis Biotech troops blinked, confused.

"What the hell did he just say?"

"I… I don't know!"

"..."

"ROOOAAARRR—!"

Before anyone could make sense of it, a monstrous roar echoed from the far distance—deep, guttural, and earth-shaking. It rolled across the battlefield like thunder, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

And then came the sound of countless feet.

A stampede.

A tide.

...