Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

“Next stop: Dune. Passengers disembarking, please prepare to exit.”

The train announcement echoed through the car, but only a few passengers stirred and reached for their luggage.

Dune was a backwater stop—quiet, overlooked. Most people stayed on the train. Maxen watched as Axel casually collected his bag and stepped off, blending into the slow-moving crowd. He waited a moment, then followed.

Knowing Phoenix was somewhere on the train, Maxen kept his distance. He didn’t dare follow too closely or use force perception—one wrong move and he’d give himself away.

Once Axel exited the station, he glanced around. No sign of Phoenix. He didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate—just hailed a taxi and climbed in alone.

Maxen melted into the crowd, disappearing from view. He didn’t move immediately. He was waiting for the real threat.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Phoenix emerged from the station and got into a separate taxi—heading the same direction as Axel.

“Clever bastard,” Maxen muttered under his breath. If it had been the old him, he would’ve already made his move—ambushed Axel somewhere quiet and out of sight.

But not today. Today, he was cautious.

He watched the taxi carrying Phoenix roll down the road, then turned and sprinted after it silently through the shadows. At his level, his body alone could outpace the car—no need to risk a trail of spiritual energy. Not when it was obviously a setup.

The two vehicles left the small city and entered the outskirts—abandoned streets, overgrown lots, and fields reclaiming old roads. Maxen kept just far enough away to avoid detection, moving like a ghost through the trees and brush.

Up ahead, in the first cab, Axel tapped open WhatsApp. He dropped a pin and sent it to the real Phoenix, who should arrive at the train station in about half an hour.

Far behind, hidden in the tall grass, Maxen frowned.

Why the hell is he circling back?

He watched Axel’s car drive off—then double back, then loop again. Maxen flattened his body against the ground, practically buried in the weeds, completely concealed.

This fucking game of his…

Eventually, Axel’s car left for good, heading into the ruins of what used to be a residential district. Empty buildings. Faded signage. A graveyard of concrete and dust.

Maxen followed at a distance, stopping about a hundred meters back—close enough to hear, hidden well enough not to be seen.

The warm Dune breeze carried the scent of dry grass. Axel stood relaxed in the open, breathing it in, smiling faintly. The man playing “Phoenix” beside him looked nervous—twitchy.

Axel checked his phone again, casually. This time he sent not just a location, but a full message—directly to the real Phoenix.

Maxen narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t see the screen, but he leaned in, straining to hear the conversation.

“Looks like he really took the hint,” Axel said. “Didn’t show up, even with a perfect shot lined up..”

“Then I’ll head back?” the fake Phoenix asked. “Captain wants me back ASAP.”

“Of course. Sorry to trouble you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, but Maxen had stopped listening. His pulse was thumping.

Phoenix is leaving.

A dangerous thought took root in his mind.

Axel paced slowly, like he was waiting for a ride. Or maybe just thinking. Time dragged on. Then—

A voice, low and venomous, slithered into his ear. “Wondering why your little plan fell apart?”

Axel froze.

Maxen stepped from the shadows, savoring the moment. His voice was calm, but brimming with hate. He snapped his fingers, and fire burst from his hand, engulfing Axel’s phone. The device hissed and cracked, melting in seconds.

“You… you actually followed me?!” Axel’s voice cracked with panic as he dropped to snatch the phone—nothing left but a smoldering lump of plastic and ash.

He stumbled back, wide-eyed. Maxen stalked forward, slow and steady.

“I figured you’d have a backup plan. So I made one too. Had a friend in Dune watch Phoenix’s taxi. And guess what?” He sneered. “Phoenix really did leave. Headed straight to the train station.”

His gaze darkened. “So tell me—what do you have left now?”

“If you do this… the Captain will come for you. He won’t let it slide!”

Maxen laughed—loud, harsh, and ugly. “Afraid now, are you?” His lips curled. “You should be. I’m going to make this slow, Axel. For my sister.”

“You tried to kill me first!” Axel shouted, fury flaring through his fear.

Maxen’s eyes narrowed with cold amusement. “Doesn’t matter. We’re past all that now.”

Twin tongues of fire ignited again—this time on Axel’s arms. The searing heat hit instantly, and Axel screamed.“AAHH—!”

The pain was white-hot, agonizing—but Axel didn’t run. He just glared, eyes locked on Maxen’s face, teeth clenched.

The fire raged around him, crackling and snapping as it devoured Axel’s arms. His skin blistered and split open, black hair curling into ash. But then—something shifted.

Maxen narrowed his eyes.

Axel’s expression had changed. He couldn’t say exactly how, but the fear in Axel’s eyes had vanished—completely. In its place was something calm. Calculated.

“Of course I knew you wouldn’t let me go,” Axel said quietly, almost too calmly.

Maxen’s body tensed. His instincts screamed. He took a half-step forward, eyes locked on Axel, who suddenly stomped his foot—and dropped straight down.

“What the—?!” Maxen’s reaction was lightning-fast. A cluster of flames shot from his hands and chased Axel’s falling form, but they only grazed his body. Axel had vanished through a hidden opening beneath his feet—an old maintenance shaft, leading into the sewer system below.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running?!” Maxen lunged after him. At this distance, he was sure—Axel couldn’t possibly get away.

But just as he reached the edge of the opening—

A shiver ripped down his spine. A raw, primal *fear* gripped his heart.

Something was wrong.

Far across the ruined old town, a man with streaks of gray in his hair stood alone, holding a detonator.

Benjamin. Once a mercenary. Now working under Zane.

He pressed the button.

BOOM.

A pillar of flame erupted from beneath the ground. The blast tore through the decaying buildings around it like they were paper. Brick and steel crumbled, the heat so intense it shattered windows in nearby ruins.

Benjamin exhaled slowly. It was done.

But then—his eyes caught movement in the smoke. No. Fucking. Way.

From the heart of the explosion, a figure emerged. Naked, blackened, his skin burned and seared, muscles exposed, blood an unnatural purple—but still moving.

Still alive.

The man shook his head, staggered forward, and then dove into the sewer shaft.

Benjamin stared through his telescope, mouth slightly open, the breath caught in his throat.

“What hell is this guy…?” he whispered. “What fucking level is he?”

The sewer was pitch black.

Maxen landed hard, boots splashing into the foul water at the bottom of the tunnel junction. It reeked of mold, rust, and rot. The distant sound of trickling water mixed with the hiss of distant flames above, still dying out.

But Axel was nowhere in sight.

“I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking end you.”

Maxen’s voice echoed through the chamber, bouncing off damp walls. His Force surged through him, extending outward like invisible tendrils, searching—reaching for any trace of Axel’s presence.

From the moment of the explosion to now, no more than ten seconds had passed. Ten seconds. There was no way Axel could’ve gone far. And even if he tried to move without using Force, there would be noise—footsteps, breathing, splashes.

But there was nothing.

Silence. Stillness.

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