Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Lightning danced wildly across the young man’s body, crackling like a thousand silver serpents coiling around him. The glow grew blinding, turning the night into day, casting everything around him in stark white brilliance.

Then—he moved.

In a blink, he vanished from where he stood, launching himself solo into the heart of the Zombie Horde.

Wherever he passed, the ground split and cracked beneath his feet, the air itself howling in protest like a thunderstorm tearing through the sky.

Zombies nearby were blasted away like rag dolls.

Any that touched the lightning were instantly scorched, their bodies charred black, smoke curling off them in thick, acrid plumes.

The stench of burnt flesh filled the air.

He tore through the undead like a living storm, scattering the horde with nothing but raw power. Alone, he carved a path through the chaos, unstoppable.

”Hell yeah, Thunderclaw!” someone shouted from behind, awe in their voice.

Even inside the shelter, people were cheering, their spirits lifted like never before. For the first time in a long while, hope flickered in their eyes.

”Damn, that’s some serious firepower!”

”Of course—Thunderclaw’s the very first Awakened of our city’s shelter. Number 001.”

”With someone like him protecting us, we might actually have a shot.”

”Yeah... let’s just hope he can take down that mutated Zombie King.”

”...”

Just as the horde began to crumble, a shadow streaked through the air—fast, sleek, deadly. Like a black panther, it lunged straight at Thunderclaw.

It was Razorback, the adopted son of the Crimson Count.

An S+ class Awakened, Razorback was terrifyingly fast.

But Thunderclaw was ready. His body flickered into a bolt of lightning, zipping backward in a flash.

”Think you can run? Not that easy!” Razorback growled, his voice rough and low. He kicked off the ground, twisting mid-air, and gave chase.

”Thunderclaw, I’ve got your back!” a clear, melodic voice rang out.

A girl appeared, her figure graceful but fierce. She was another member of the Last Light squad—an S-class psychic Awakened.

Her focus sharpened, and a wave of immense psychic energy burst from her mind. It was a rare and powerful force, far beyond what most Awakened could muster.

The air around them thickened, like time itself had slowed.

Her psychic power solidified into a dense barrier, slamming toward Razorback to cut off his path.

”Vmmm—”

A deep hum echoed as Razorback’s lightning-fast movements suddenly slowed, like he’d been caught in quicksand. He struggled, but couldn’t break free.

”Mind Storm!”

The girl’s psychic energy surged again, this time piercing straight into Razorback’s mind.

He screamed.

Agony exploded in his skull, like his brain was about to burst. His vision went white, his thoughts scattered—he was completely disoriented.

”Hell yeah! That’s why you’re our psychic queen!” Thunderclaw shouted, grinning.

He stopped retreating, planted his feet, and gathered his strength. No more running—it was time to strike back.

Lightning surged around him again, more intense than ever. His hair stood on end, his eyes sparked with electric fury. He looked like a god of thunder descending to earth.

He’d pushed his lightning powers to the absolute limit.

”Let me show you what it means to bring thunder through the apocalypse!”

With a roar, he vanished in a flash of light, tearing through the darkness like a comet. His fist shot forward, aimed straight at Razorback’s chest.

He was the dawn breaking through the night.

The punch landed dead center.

”BOOOOM!”

Thunder exploded like a cannon blast, ripping through Razorback’s body.

”GRAAAHHH—!”

Razorback let out a blood-curdling scream, his body smoking and twitching. The force of the blow launched him off the mountain peak, his form tumbling down the cliffside, swallowed by the endless black below.

”YES!!”

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Thunderclaw had not only held back the Zombie Horde, but with the girl’s help, he’d just sent the Zombie King flying with a single punch. The tide of battle was turning.

Hope surged through the survivors.

”We might actually win this!”

”Told you—he’s got this!”

”Thunderclaw is a damn beast!”

”...”

The survivors stared at Thunderclaw, his body wreathed in crackling lightning, like a god descended from the heavens. To them, he wasn’t just a fighter anymore—he was a symbol of hope, the dawn breaking through humanity’s darkest night.

Even Mia, her beautiful face streaked with blood, turned to glance back from within the Zombie Horde.

Tch.

These so-called ”Number Ones” from the various shelters... maybe they weren’t completely useless after all.

But then—

A sharp, high-pitched screech tore through the sky, echoing from the darkness above.

”The hell was that?!”

”Is that... a flying zombie beast?”

”Whatever it is... it sounds terrifying!”

”...”

The screeching grew louder, more piercing, like nails on glass. People looked up—and froze.

A massive black cloud was sweeping toward them.

But it wasn’t a cloud.

It was bats.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of them. Their eyes glowed blood-red, fangs bared, wings slicing through the air as they dove toward the mountain like a swarm of missiles.

”What the hell are those things?!”

”Bats?! Are you kidding me?!”

”Shit—it bit me!”

”...”

The swarm hit like a wave.

The bats weren’t just attacking—they were infecting. Each bite carried a mutated virus, far more potent than anything they’d seen before. Victims began to change almost instantly, their bodies convulsing, eyes turning wild, skin splitting open as they transformed into bloodthirsty monsters.

Mia slashed through a cluster of them with a single sweep of her blade, their shredded bodies raining down around her. But her sharp eyes narrowed, a chill creeping up her spine.

Something was wrong.

This wasn’t the end.

It was just the beginning.

”I’ll handle them!” shouted the psychic girl—Emily—her voice steady despite the chaos. She was a specialist in wide-range attacks, and her mind was already focusing, gathering energy to unleash another psychic barrier.

But halfway through the cast, her heart skipped a beat.

Her eyes widened.

It felt like something ancient and monstrous had just locked onto her soul.

Like death itself was watching.

From within the swirling mass of bats, a figure emerged.

A man.

He walked slowly, deliberately, as if the chaos around him didn’t exist. He was tall, draped in a flowing black cloak. His skin was ghostly pale, his features sharp and cold, like they’d been carved from ice—flawless, inhuman.

The contrast between his bloodless skin and the suffocating darkness around him made him look like a phantom.

Emily’s breath caught in her throat.

”Is that... another Zombie King?”

Her psychic barrier shifted mid-cast, transforming into a concentrated Mind Storm. She launched it straight into the man’s mind.

But—

Nothing.

He didn’t even flinch.

He just kept walking toward her, step by step.

”What...?” Emily’s voice trembled. She pushed harder, pouring more power into the attack.

Still nothing.

Then, without warning, the man’s pale face tilted up. His eyes met hers.

And he vanished.

In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

The next instant—he was behind her.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t even look back. Just kept walking forward, as if he’d done something as trivial as brushing dust off his shoulder.

Emily stood frozen.

Completely still.

Like a statue.

Three seconds passed.

Then—

Her head tilted.

And fell.

Shhhk—

Blood erupted from her neck like a geyser, spraying into the air as her body collapsed to the ground in a lifeless heap.

”?!”

Nearby survivors stared in horror, their faces pale, their minds unable to process what they’d just seen.

How did she die?

The bats had blocked most of their view. All they saw was the girl standing one moment—and the next, she was headless.

”Emily!!”

Thunderclaw’s roar echoed across the mountaintop. His face twisted in fury, jaw clenched so tight his teeth might crack. His fists trembled, veins bulging, lightning surging wildly across his body.

The air around him exploded with electric energy.

”I’ll avenge you!”

He shot forward like a lightning bolt, a streak of blinding blue tearing through the sky. His fist crackled with thunder, aimed straight at the pale man’s chest.

He moved so fast, he was nearly invisible.

The man turned his head slightly, eyes calm, expression unreadable.

Then he raised one hand—long, slender fingers reaching out.

...