Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Ethan slipped into stealth mode, his form flickering and vanishing into the air like a shadow swallowed by dusk. With his insane speed, he began tracking the golden energy trail left behind by the fleeing Mountain God.

Sure, the thing could teleport—but not far. If it had long-range teleportation, it would’ve just popped into the battlefield from the start instead of hauling its rocky puppet body halfway there on foot.

That alone told Ethan everything he needed to know: the Mountain God’s teleportation had serious limitations. Probably a long cooldown, too. If it could chain those jumps together, it might as well have infinite range.

But Ethan wasn’t in a rush. In fact, he was almost... letting it run.

Killing it on the spot wouldn’t get him much. But following it? That might lead to answers—especially about the runes. And that was worth more than a quick kill.

A few minutes later, he felt it—a ripple in space, faint but fresh. The air still buzzed with residual energy.

”There,” he muttered, and shot off in that direction.

At his current speed, Ethan was faster than any aircraft humanity had ever built. Even vast distances were nothing to him now.

Sure enough, after a short chase, he picked up the golden energy’s signature again. Up ahead, a flicker of light darted through the air like a will-o’-the-wisp, weaving through the sky in a panic.

”Go go go go go—!”

The golden flame was practically screaming in its own weird, emotional frequency, radiating pure desperation. It kicked up its speed, trying to shake him.

Ethan didn’t interfere. He just followed, silent and invisible, curious to see where it was headed.

The jungle blurred past on either side, trees whipping by like streaks of green and brown. But soon, the forest began to thin out. The trees grew sparse, then vanished entirely.

Ahead lay a barren stretch of land—rugged, cracked earth littered with jagged rocks and the crumbling bones of ancient ruins.

Broken walls, shattered statues, and weather-worn stone littered the ground. Time had chewed through everything, leaving only fragments behind. A few stone pillars and monuments still stood, half-buried in dust, but mostly intact.

”So this is the heart of Xenorift...” Ethan murmured, scanning the desolate landscape.

With no trees to hide it, the golden flame was now in plain view, still zipping forward like its life depended on it.

It reached a pair of towering stone pillars and darted between them.

The pillars were massive—thick enough that ten people holding hands couldn’t wrap around one, and easily a thousand feet tall. They loomed like ancient skyscrapers, weathered but still imposing.

But what really caught Ethan’s eye were the runes.

The entire surface of the pillars was covered in them—dense, intricate, and glowing faintly with residual energy.

They reminded him of the skyscrapers back in human cities. These two pillars looked like the skeletal remains of some long-dead civilization’s skyline.

A few seconds later, a pulse of spatial energy rippled through the air.

The golden flame reached the space between the pillars—and vanished. Just like that. Gone, as if swallowed by the air itself.

”Another teleport?” Ethan frowned.

But something felt off.

He slowed down, letting his stealth fade as he approached the pillars. The air here was... different. Heavy. Charged.

He stepped forward cautiously, reaching out with one hand.

The space between the pillars shimmered like disturbed water. His fingers passed through it—and vanished. It was like dipping his hand into another world.

”A gateway?” he muttered. ”Is the Forbidden Zone in there?”

He glanced around. No obvious traps. No signs of life. Just wind and dust.

Well, no turning back now.

With a flicker of motion, Ethan stepped forward—and disappeared, just like the golden flame before him.

The ruined land fell silent once more. Only the wind remained, howling through the broken stones, kicking up clouds of dust that danced in the empty air.

And then... nothing.

Just silence.

After Ethan vanished into the shimmering space between the ancient pillars, the chaos behind him still raged on.

From deep within the jungle, the roars and shrieks of battle echoed through the trees. The massive Dreadnought-class Starcruiser thundered through the sky, steadily making its way toward the ruins.

Meanwhile, Bloodveil and her squad of undead were tearing through the forest like a pack of wolves on the hunt. They chased down the fleeing Xenobeasts, cutting them down one by one, driving the survivors into a panicked scatter.

The zombie horde swept through the wilderness like a storm, and soon, they too reached the edge of the ancient ruins, converging toward the center.

But before any of them arrived, a sleek Command Cruiser streaked across the sky, cutting through the clouds like a blade. It was the first to reach the site.

”Where’s the boss? Why’s it so quiet?” Ricky muttered, scanning the area with the ship’s radar. The scan range was massive, and if Ethan was fighting, the sheer scale of destruction would’ve lit up every sensor. But there was nothing. Just silence.

Aria, strapped down in the back, looked tense. ”Ricky, we can’t go any further. This is the central zone of Xenorift! It’s too dangerous!”

”What’s the matter? Getting cold feet?” Ricky grinned, not even glancing back. ”I thought you came out here to get stronger. Lucky for you, I’m giving you the full tour.”

He wasn’t being cocky. He just genuinely didn’t give a damn about dying.

Without hesitation, he pushed the throttle. The Command Cruiser surged forward, diving deeper into the heart of the continent.

”You lunatic!” Aria snapped, gritting her teeth.

And then—everything went to hell.

The ship jolted violently, shuddering as if it had hit an invisible wall. Every system inside flickered and died. The control panels went dark. The engines cut out.

The Command Cruiser tilted nose-down and began to fall.

But before it could crash, the air around it rippled like disturbed water. Space itself twisted—and the entire ship was swallowed whole, vanishing into thin air.

The sky above the ruins returned to silence. No birds. No beasts. Not even the wind dared to whisper.

Not a bird in the sky, not a soul in sight.

Time passed.

Eventually, the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser arrived, its massive frame casting a shadow over the ruins. But it didn’t go any further.

It stopped.

Onboard, the Zombie Kings stood at the observation deck, scanning the area with grim expressions.

”Boss is gone.”

”Not even a trace of his aura left.”

”Think he chased that thing all the way to the other side of Xenorift? Should we go after him?”

”...”

The far side of Xenorift was nothing but jagged rocks and barren mountains. Sparse vegetation. Almost no intelligent life. Beyond that lay the Exile Zone—an even more desolate wasteland. And past that... the edge of human civilization.

PhD stood at the helm, eyes locked on the ruins ahead. After a moment, he made the call.

”We’re not going any further. We land here.”

”Huh?” The other Zombie Kings looked surprised. ”We’re not going after him?”

”We wait,” PhD said firmly.

Ethan had entrusted him with command of the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser. That responsibility wasn’t just heavy—it was critical. If anything happened to the ship, the entire zombie army would be crippled. PhD wasn’t about to take that risk.

The others respected that. They nodded, no further questions.

The Dreadnought-class Starcruiser slowly descended, settling onto a flat stretch of land just outside the ruins.

PhD had a strong hunch: the area ahead was a Forbidden Zone.

After all, Ricky’s Command Cruiser had vanished here. One second it was on the radar—then gone. No signal. No trace. Just... gone.

There was no way he was flying the Dreadnought into that.

So the zombie horde held their position, waiting patiently.

For now, the slaughter across Xenorift had come to an end. The land fell into an eerie, unnatural silence.

But that silence didn’t last.

From the far edge of the continent, a new presence arrived—uninvited, and very, very human.

A Command Cruiser, sleek and marked with the insignia of human civilization, cut through the sky and descended slowly toward the ruins.

It was late to the party—but it had come with purpose.

Onboard were several Awakeners, each one radiating powerful energy. At the front stood a woman with a stern face and sharp eyes, her expression tight with worry.

Claire Monroe.

An SSS-ranked human Awakener—and Aria’s mother.

”I just hope... Aria’s still alive,” she whispered, staring out the window at the desolate land below.

...