Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Axel looked down at his hand. A chunk of shimmering ice rested there, faintly pulsing.

Rosaline’s natal ice coffin.

He’d carried it all this time and never used it. Honestly, he’d almost forgotten it was there.

Vince had given him a custom bionic soft armor. Millers had handed him a high-powered, modified Desert Eagle. And Rosaline… she’d given him this.

The first two had helped him in battle.

But this little icy relic? It had saved his damn life.

Rosaline knew he had it. But she also knew the power of her own attacks. Even the ice coffin wouldn’t save him.

“What a fucking miracle,” Axel muttered under his breath, staring at the small ice crystal.

Any other Level 2 Awakened? They’d be dead a hundred times over.

”You’re still alive?!”

An unpleasant, crackling mechanical voice rang out from nearby. Axel looked up. Crowe was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, barely more than a twisted hunk of metal now—only his chest and head still intact.

So they failed.

Axel glanced at the sky. Most of the ice dome had already melted, falling in thick sheets of water and broken shards onto the wreckage below.

Crowe was clearly running on fumes. He could barely move.

“Lord Crowe,” Axel said, approaching slowly, keeping his expression blank. “My awakening ability’s kind of special... it’s mostly good at keeping people alive. Looks like it worked, huh?”

“Heh… still breathing, yeah.” Crowe gave a wheezing laugh, static crackling in his speaker. “You’re a good kid. Loyal. I like that. Stick with me, and success won’t just be a dream—it’ll be yours. Here, take this.”

He tossed a small key toward Axel with a jerky movement. “Go to the second floor, get an energy core from the lab. This body’s almost out of juice.” If he shut down, he was screwed.

“Understood, sir,” Axel replied, catching the key with practiced ease.

He kept up the obedient act, but his mind was racing. They really did fail. But now… is this my shot?

Crowe had completely misread the situation. He thought Axel had risked his life to protect him. The old bastard had no idea how close he was to dying for real.

“What’re you standing around for? Move it!” Crowe barked, growing impatient.

Axel edged closer, still wary. Crowe may have been wrecked, but with tech like his, there was no telling what kind of last-ditch defense systems he had tucked away. If Axel made the wrong move and Crowe still had a trick up his sleeve, he’d be dead before he got a second chance.

“Sir… I thought the Institute was restricted? Wouldn’t I get shredded by the auto-defense system just for walking in?”

“Nah. You’ve got my key—the system will recognize you as friendly,” Crowe replied, surprisingly pleased. “Smart. Cautious. I like that. Loyal and clever.”

He was practically giddy. In his mind, this was the kind of subordinate he could build a future on. In fact, he’d already made a “generous” decision: he was going to use Axel’s body for the latest bionic prototype.

If Axel had known what Crowe was really thinking, he might’ve killed him right then and there.

Axel picked up the remote control from a nearby panel, jaw tightening. He knew he couldn’t stall any longer. If Crowe got powered back up, any chance he had to finish this would vanish.

Then—

Click-click-click...

A series of rushed footsteps echoed from the corridor.

“Holy shit… what the hell happened out here?”

“Is that… is that Crowe?”

“Looks like he’s toast.”

“Jackpot, boys. We’re gonna be rich.”

A group of four men emerged from the warehouse, each lugging a heavy box and grinning like idiots. They froze as soon as they saw what remained of Crowe on the ground.

Beau and his crew.

They’d taken one look at the battle earlier and noped out, heading straight for the warehouse to loot whatever Exotic Beast Pills they could carry. Nobody would miss a few crates—not in the aftermath of this bloodbath.

“L-Lord Crowe?!” one of the fat guys stammered, nearly dropping his box.

The others hesitated, glancing nervously between each other and the wrecked form of the infamous scientist.

“Lord? Fuck that. What’s he gonna do? Bleed on us?”

Beau’s voice cracked as he tried to hide his fear, but after a moment of studying Crowe’s mangled form, his expression shifted. Ferocity replaced hesitation.

“Hell with it. Let’s finish him off. And take that kid down while we’re at it!”

He threw his box to the ground and gave a sharp look to the others. At first, they stood frozen. Then, slowly, a dangerous look crept into their eyes too.

If Crowe didn’t die here, they definitely would.

That realization seemed to hit the other two looters at the same time. They dropped their crates, activated their force abilities, and charged straight for the wrecked scientist.

“You really don’t know when to quit,” Crowe snarled with a distorted mechanical laugh. “Compared to Axel, you mutts are just wild dogs that can’t be trained!”

Axel sighed, shaking his head. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to hear himself being praised—especially by this half-scrapped old psycho.

Bang! Bang!

Two micro-bombs launched from Crowe’s ruined chassis, hitting their targets with precision. The two attackers were blown apart mid-charge, their bodies landing in broken heaps, still twitching and gasping for breath—but they were as good as dead.

Not far away, Beau—who had been all bark earlier—had picked up his crate again and was already halfway out the door. His bravado had limits. While his buddies had thrown themselves into the fray, he’d used the distraction to make a run for it.

“You think you’re getting out of here?”

Crowe’s voice was trembling, but he still managed to launch one final explosive. It hit Beau squarely, and half the man’s leg flew off in a spray of blood.

Crack!

Crowe’s broken body sparked violently, and the red glow in his mechanical eye flickered, barely visible now.

“Go... go...” he rasped, his voice distorted and weak.

Axel felt a little scared. The old bastard was a lot tougher than he looked. Even on the brink of total shutdown, he’d taken down three armed men in seconds.

Good thing I didn’t make a move earlier, Axel thought. Would’ve been a one-way trip.

Inside the Institute, he quickly found the power cell Crowe had asked for. By the time he returned, the red light in Crowe’s head was almost gone, barely pulsing in the dark like a dying ember.

“Give it… to me...” The words dragged out, each one slower than the last.

Axel rushed forward, battery in hand. “Hang on, Lord Crowe! I’m almost there!”

The gap between them closed, step by step.

“Give it to me,” Crowe urged again.

His tone was desperate, mechanical eyes fixed on the battery like a starving man staring at a meal. In his mind, he was already planning the reward—Axel would become his personal prototype, his new Level-5 bionic. He was sure of it.

But instead of handing the battery over…

Screeeeech.

Axel drove a knife straight into the power port in Crowe’s chest.

Sparks erupted. The frail body, already drained of energy, shuddered violently. No sound came out—just the faint hiss of power dying.

The red glow in Crowe’s chest flickered one last time… and went dark.

Axel let the battery fall and collapsed beside the body, breathing hard.

He was running on fumes himself—force, mental energy, all nearly depleted. If that last stab hadn’t done the trick, he would’ve died right then and there.

He stared at the smoking, blackened hunk of iron next to him and exhaled slowly.

Lucky. Everything went exactly right.

But he didn’t dare rest for long. There was no telling who might come sniffing around soon. At least now, with Crowe’s remote in his pocket, he had a decent excuse for being there. If anyone questioned him, he had proof.

One thing Axel didn’t know, though, was that Morris’s projection had appeared here not long ago.

If he had known, there’s no way he’d have had the guts to pull any of this off.

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