Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

After Millers left, the room fell silent once more.

Riley’s gaze drifted to the still-sleeping Axel. The faint smile on her lips gradually vanished.

She trimmed the excess rose stems neatly—then sent a short message.

Not long after, footsteps sounded outside the door.

A woman who looked almost identical to Clarissa walked in—but her temperament was completely different. She wore a fiery red dress, light makeup replacing Riley’s understated natural look. Black high heels made her appear nearly a head taller.

“Tch. This kid still isn’t awake?” she asked lazily.

It was Clarissa—Vice President of the Everton Biomedical Research Institute.

She pulled out a cigarette and flicked her lighter.

“No smoking here,” Riley said calmly.

Clarissa snorted, slipped the cigarette back into the pack, and dropped into a chair, crossing her long legs.

“What a coincidence, running into this kid again. Must be important—otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten involved.”

Her eyes drifted to the roses.

Without waiting for a reply, she stood and leaned in to inhale their scent.

“Excellent roses. Riley, this really doesn’t match your taste. So—are you in love?”

Riley waited until Clarissa finished circling the room before speaking evenly.

“They’re from someone named Millers. You’ll need to reject him for me next week.”

Clarissa frowned, digging through her memory.

“Millers? Never heard of him. Who is he?”

“He’s with the Whisper Syndicate. Axel’s teammate. We met once.”

Clarissa’s eyes lit up.

“Oh? So—handsome?”

Riley paused briefly, considered, then nodded.

“By conventional standards, yes. Very handsome.”

Clarissa clasped her hands excitedly.

“Wow, Riley, you’re ridiculously lucky! Why not just say yes already? I’ve always dreamed of marrying you off!”

She leaned in eagerly—but Riley pushed her face aside with one hand.

“You’re wearing perfume. It interferes with my sense of smell. Anyway, just follow what I said.”

Clarissa glanced at the mirror, saw that her makeup had smudged, and shot Riley a speechless glare.

“Fine. Then why not just reject him outright?”

She slumped back into the chair with crossed arms and a stiff neck.

“You know,” Riley replied calmly, “sometimes a clear refusal is misinterpreted as playing hard to get—simply because the emotional intensity isn’t strong enough.”

“It’s not just my personal problem. It’s a structural flaw in human social communication.”

Seeing Riley slip into academic mode again, Clarissa waved her hands in irritation.

“Alright, alright—spare me. If that kid ends up crying, don’t blame me.”

Riley paused, recalling Millers’ personality.

“…Unlikely. He’s pretty thick-skinned.”

Clarissa stood to leave.

As she reached the door, Riley added quietly,

“Try to smoke less.”

Clarissa didn’t respond. She only lifted a hand in a casual wave and slid into her car.

Riley watched until the vehicle disappeared down the road. Then she closed the doors and windows one by one, sealing the room. Only after that did she turn back toward the hospital bed.

“They’re gone,” she said calmly. “You can open your eyes now.”

Axel slowly opened their eyes and pushed themself upright. A hint of awkwardness—and unmistakable embarrassment—colored their expression.

“I… I thought it wouldn’t be appropriate to hear all that, but…” Axel hesitated, then bowed their head slightly. “Thank you. You saved me.”

Still young, still carrying that obedient, almost too-honest demeanor, Axel naturally stirred a protective instinct in older people.

Riley studied Axel for a long moment, her gaze sharp and penetrating.

“You really are something special.”

Axel didn’t know what she meant, so they stayed silent.

Riley released her Force.

A dense surge of energy flooded the room, isolating it completely from the outside world. The air itself seemed to thicken.

“To be honest,” she said lightly, “you didn’t truly need my help. You recovered remarkably fast. Your constitution is… unusual.”

Her eyes never left Axel’s face.

Axel felt completely seen through. There was no hiding anything from this woman.

“Your only real mistake,” she continued, “was eating the Heavenly Spirit Fruit. Its effects have already worn off. You can relax.”

The calm atmosphere shattered instantly.

Axel’s Force erupted. In a flash, they snatched up the Red Flame Blade with one hand and leveled the compact Force cannon at Riley with the other.

Riley didn’t flinch. Instead, admiration flickered across her expression.

“Unbelievable. A Level Four Awakener with this much raw Force,” she murmured. “No wonder the Saints made such a reckless move—trying to capture you directly.”

Axel remained on high alert.

Riley slowly extended a pale, slender hand.

“Let me formally introduce myself. Holy Light Organization—codename: Starveil. I was the one who developed your healing serum.”

Axel’s pupils contracted violently.

When she had mentioned the Heavenly Spirit Fruit, Axel had almost attacked on instinct. That secret alone was enough to decide life or death.

Staring at her outstretched hand, Axel fought down the storm inside their chest. The youthfulness returned to their expression as they forced themself to calm down.

“…Axel,” they said, lightly touching her hand.

They could feel Force locking down the entire room from every direction. Riley was making sure this conversation would never leak.

“If what you said is true,” Axel asked carefully, “then the woman who attacked me… she was a Saint?”

Riley nodded.

“You must be drowning in questions. Let me show you what Aurelion authorized me to reveal.”

Despite her claim of belonging to Holy Light, Axel remained wary. After all, she looked exactly like Clarissa. And Clarissa had worked alongside Axel’s father for years—accepting her as Holy Light made more sense than this woman.

“The one who just left,” Axel asked, “was that your sister? Does she know about you?”

Riley turned her head slightly. A faint emotional ripple passed through her eyes.

“You seem very interested in my sister.”

Axel’s heart skipped a beat. He realized instantly that the question had shifted the tone. He shrugged faintly.

“Millers and I… have different tastes.”

Riley shook her head gently.

“She knows nothing.”

Axel didn’t fully believe that—but trust between them was still fragile. Instead of pushing, Axel let her continue.

“The Saints,” Riley said as she typed. After a series of passwords, data flooded the screen, “possess the following verified abilities. First—they can freely switch between human and infected forms. And their infected form is… refined.”

“Refined?” Axel repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Designed for combat,” Riley replied.

She pointed at the data as she explained.

“Ordinary infected grow larger and stronger the more powerful they were before infection. They retain fragments of intelligence—but only enough to seek food and avoid danger. Like brutish monsters with crude tactics.”

Axel nodded. That matched all known combat records.

“But Saints are different,” Riley continued. “They can regulate their size after transforming. They can precisely control their scales, claws, and physical structure. They aren’t monsters. They’re living weapons.”

Axel immediately recalled the impact of that attack—the moment they had blocked the Saint’s strike for Millers.

If Axel hadn’t stepped in, Millers would have died on the spot.

Even with Axel’s far superior physique and defense, the claws had still pierced straight through their abdomen.

Later, even with the combined assault of Charles and the entire squad, the Saint had still escaped alive.

“Why’ve I never heard of this?” Axel asked quietly. “Neither had Vince or the others.”

“Because Saints appear extremely rarely,” Riley replied. “So far, no Saint has ever been captured—and none confirmed killed. Everyone who knows about them is under strict information lockdown.”

“If word ever spreads that infected can regain reason—even as a rumor—it would cause absolute chaos. Society would tear itself apart over it.”

Axel nodded slowly. From an organizational perspective, the secrecy made sense.

“But still,” Axel said, “even if she was strong… Krythos has no shortage of monsters stronger than her.”

“Saints don’t appear randomly,” Riley said softly. “Every time they move, their targets are top-tier Awakeners. Always capture, never assassination. According to current data, they’ve already taken fourteen elite-level geniuses.”

“That still doesn’t explain why no Saint has ever been captured.”

Riley’s fingers paused on the keyboard.

“This time, you escaped because your talent is so extreme that the Saint who found you became greedy. She wanted the credit for herself. Otherwise, she would never have acted alone.”