Apocalypse: King of Zombies

"I'm standing right in front of you," Sophia said softly, her voice tinged with something almost mournful. "Tell me… how much of me still looks like the woman you used to know?"

As she slowly lifted her head, Nathan's breath caught in his throat.

Her eyes—once cool and intelligent—were now bleeding red, the color spreading like ink in water until her irises were completely crimson. Veins bulged beneath her skin, crawling across her face like a spiderweb. Her lips curled back, revealing razor-sharp fangs that gleamed like daggers.

In a matter of seconds, the elegant, icy beauty he once knew had transformed into a nightmare.

Nathan stared, frozen. The fear in his eyes deepened.

That was the moment it hit him—Sophia was gone.

The woman who used to argue with him in boardrooms, who used to challenge him at every turn, who used to roll her eyes when he made a dumb joke—she didn't exist anymore. That version of her had died the moment the virus took hold.

Now, she was something else entirely. A walking corpse with a memory.

"If you'd just listened to me back then," Sophia rasped, her voice rough and cracked, "maybe none of this would've happened."

All the bitterness she'd buried—every slight, every dismissal, every time she'd been overlooked or underestimated—rose to the surface like a tidal wave. Her fury was no longer just personal. It was primal.

"Kill them all!"

With a roar, she charged forward, leading the horde of monsters in a full-on assault.

Jacob saw it coming. He bit down hard on his tongue, the pain snapping him back into focus. He summoned every last ounce of energy he had, unleashing a massive surge of psychic power.

The air around him shimmered as his mental force expanded outward, forming a glowing barrier that wrapped around the group like a dome. It was his final stand.

The strain hit him instantly. His vision blurred, his knees buckled, and his head spun. He could barely stay upright. The faces of the vampires blurred into double images, their snarls echoing in his ears like a nightmare on loop.

He was burning through everything—his strength, his stamina, his mind. One wrong move, and he'd black out.

But for now, the barrier held.

The vampires slammed into it, snarling and clawing, but couldn't break through. The space around them felt frozen in time, the air thick with tension.

Sophia watched from the outside, her expression unreadable.

"Why fight it?" she murmured. "You're only delaying the inevitable."

She stepped closer, her voice low and almost casual, like she was discussing a business strategy.

"Once we wipe out the Genesis Biotech base in L.A., we'll move on to the city's main refuge. With The Vampire Race's ability to mimic humans, we'll infiltrate from the inside. They won't even see it coming."

She smiled, proud of herself. "We already lured most of their elite forces away. The place is practically defenseless. Not bad, right? Pretty solid plan, if I do say so myself."

Nathan just stared at her, hollow-eyed. The despair was sinking in, heavy and cold.

Jacob's barrier was flickering now, the glow dimming. The monsters outside were getting more aggressive, sensing the weakness.

Sophia's smile faded. She narrowed her eyes.

"Still not gonna say anything, Nathan? Even now, you won't admit I'm better than you?"

Nathan opened his mouth, hesitated. There was something strange in her voice—something deeper than pride. A need. A wound.

"This… all of this…" he said slowly, "does it really matter that much to you?"

Crack!

A sharp, brittle sound rang out—like glass shattering.

Jacob coughed up blood and collapsed, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

The barrier shattered with him.

The vampires surged forward like a dam had burst, howling as they charged.

Nathan didn't move. He just stood there, watching them come.

A strange calm settled over his face.

"Alright…" he whispered, almost to himself. "Fine."

If this was how it ended, so be it.

Maybe giving her what she wanted was the only thing left he could do.

Just as Nathan was about to speak—resigned, ready to surrender—everything changed.

Without warning, streaks of light tore across the sky, blazing like comets.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Explosions rocked the forest, deafening and violent. Blinding energy detonated across the treetops, shockwaves ripping through the air like a hurricane. Trees snapped like twigs. The ground trembled.

Mushroom clouds—small but terrifying—rose into the sky, their fiery plumes curling upward.

Chunks of mutant vampire zombies were blasted apart, limbs and torsos flying in every direction. The air filled with the stench of scorched flesh and burning ozone.

"W-What the hell?!"

Everyone froze.

Even the vampires.

Nathan's eyes went wide, his despair cracking under a sudden surge of hope. His heart thudded in his chest.

That energy—he recognized it. The unmistakable signature of a Crystal Core Firearm.

Top-tier tech. The cutting edge of human weaponry.

"Wait… is that backup from HQ?"

"Holy shit, talk about perfect timing!"

"Are we saved?!"

But Sophia's expression darkened. Her brows drew together in a tight frown.

If Genesis Biotech had sent reinforcements, they wouldn't be ordinary soldiers. They'd be elite. Dangerous.

Everyone instinctively looked up, toward the source of the blasts.

And there—hovering in the sky—were several figures, suspended midair by jets of flame shooting from their feet, like miniature rocket boosters. On their arms were sleek, high-tech launchers, still smoking from the recent barrage.

"What the hell…?"

Nathan squinted, stunned.

They looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie—like Iron Man's undead cousins.

But as the smoke cleared and the figures came into focus, jaws dropped.

They weren't human.

They were zombies.

Their faces were twisted and feral, but their bodies had been augmented—some had alloy arms, others had mechanical legs. Red crystal core energy pulsed from their palms, still glowing hot from the attack.

"Mecha zombies?!"

Even Sophia was stunned. Her mouth fell open in disbelief, her fangs bared in shock.

But it didn't stop there.

From the forest floor came a new sound—clank, clank, clank—the unmistakable grind of metal on metal.

More figures emerged from the trees.

Zombies. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.

Some were missing limbs, replaced with gleaming alloy prosthetics. Others wore full exoskeletons, their bodies reinforced with armor plating. Crystal core energy pulsed from their chests, their joints, their weapons.

They looked like something out of a cyberpunk nightmare—part undead, part machine, all terrifying.

The Mecha Zombie Army had arrived.

Sunlight glinted off their metallic bodies, casting sharp reflections across the battlefield. Their eyes glowed with eerie intelligence. These weren't mindless husks—they were evolved, enhanced, and deadly.

Elite-class. Maybe even Alpha-tier.

And in the skies above, the airborne units circled like vultures, their boosters humming, ready to strike again.

The entire battlefield fell silent.

Even the bloodthirsty vampires hesitated, staring in disbelief.

"Who the hell modified zombies like this?!"

"This is cheating! This is straight-up cheating!"

"This isn't fair!"

The Vampire Race was rattled. These weren't the slow, shambling corpses they were used to. These were precision weapons—zombies wielding the power of advanced tech.

Then, as if on cue, the mecha zombies parted, forming a path.

From within their ranks, a single figure stepped forward.

Tall. Calm. Imposing.

He wore a pristine white lab coat that fluttered slightly in the breeze. A monocle-style scanner covered his left eye, connected to a silver chain that looped behind his ear. His features were sharp, symmetrical—almost too perfect. His eyes, deep and calculating, held a strange serenity.

He didn't look like a zombie.

But he was.

This was PhD—one of Ethan's most powerful Zombie Kings.

And he wasn't here to negotiate.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing, hands behind his back, gaze sweeping over the stunned crowd.

His voice was smooth, cultured, and cold as steel.

"Los Angeles…" he said, his tone laced with quiet authority, "is not your playground."

...