Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Meteorfall let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples like he’d just realized he’d boarded a ship with no brakes—headed straight into hell.

He wasn’t wrong.

Ethan’s war against Heartland had some serious firepower behind it—two Dreadnought-class Starcruisers, cutting-edge human tech, and a zombie horde that could steamroll cities. On the surface, they had the numbers.

But everyone here knew the truth: numbers didn’t win wars like this.

Not when the battlefield was crawling with SSS-class monsters.

This might be the most uncertain, high-stakes battle in history.

”Heartland’s not just packing Voidborn Undying,” Bloodveil said with a smirk. ”They’ve got five Deathless Sovereigns too. If you can take on all five by yourself, we might actually have a shot.”

Ethan paused, thinking it over. ”Wanna bet? I could give it a try.”

”Whoa, whoa, whoa—hold up!” Bloodveil’s eyes went wide as he waved his hands frantically. ”Dude, I was joking! You don’t actually have to do it!”

Ethan didn’t laugh. His expression stayed serious.

”Real talk,” he said, ”we don’t stand a chance in a straight-up fight. Not unless we take out a few of their top-tier monsters before the war even starts. Especially those Deathless Sovereigns.”

He was already thinking ahead—calculating, planning.

After all, they were the ”Backstabbing Alliance.” If they weren’t pulling dirty tricks, were they even trying?

Bloodveil blinked. ”Wait... you’re serious? You really think that could work?”

Meteorfall chimed in, arms crossed. ”It’s a solid idea, but pulling it off? That’s another story. Those five Deathless Sovereigns don’t leave Heartland. Ever. They’re practically welded to the place.”

”Then I’ll go to them,” Ethan said, voice cold as steel.

Bloodveil and Meteorfall both stared at him like he’d just said he was going to punch a black hole.

”You’re saying... you’re gonna sneak into Heartland and assassinate one of the Deathless Sovereigns?” Bloodveil asked, half in awe, half in disbelief.

”Exactly. It’s the only way to tip the odds in our favor,” Ethan said, no hesitation in his tone.

The two other Zombie Kings were stunned into silence. The wind howled across the battlefield, but neither of them moved.

It was insane. Reckless. Borderline suicidal.

And yet... kind of brilliant.

No one else would even think of something like this, let alone say it out loud.

Ethan continued, laying out the plan. ”Once I take one of them out, I’ll be exposed. No way around that. So you two need to be ready. Gather the horde. As soon as you get my signal, launch the full-scale assault.”

Bloodveil nodded slowly, but his gut twisted with unease. If Ethan failed—if he didn’t make it back—the alliance would collapse before the war even began.

Still, he had to ask. ”So... who’s the first target?”

Ethan’s eyes shifted toward Ravager’s mangled corpse.

”Gorthas,” he said flatly.

Ravager had been one of Gorthas’s lieutenants. Back on Earth, Gorthas had sent Ethan a message—assemble the stone tablet, come to Originis, face him.

That grudge had been simmering for a long time.

Now Ethan was ready to settle it.

He was going to kill Gorthas before the war even started.

Silence fell over the wasteland.

The three Zombie Kings stood in the open field, the wind whispering around them like a warning.

Meteorfall’s sparse hair fluttered in the wind, but he didn’t say a word.

He was still reeling from Ethan’s insane plan.

Assassinate a Deathless Sovereign in the heart of Heartland? That wasn’t just bold—it was legendary. A move no one had ever dared to attempt, and probably never would again.

One word echoed in Meteorfall’s mind: guts.

”Right now, Heartland’s out in the open, and we’re still in the shadows,” he finally muttered, thinking aloud. ”Maybe that’s the only edge we’ve got left.”

After a long pause, he nodded to himself. He was in.

Bloodveil, meanwhile, was still trying to play the voice of reason. ”Alright, fine. But seriously, Ethan—watch your ass out there. If things go south, just pull out. No shame in surviving to fight another day.”

”I know,” Ethan replied with a nod. He wasn’t planning to throw his life away. First step was recon—scout the outer perimeter of Heartland, get a read on the Deathless Sovereigns’ movements and abilities.

Charging in blind would be suicide. He needed intel before he made a move.

Bloodveil wasn’t done. ”If you’re gonna use a psychic illusion to disguise yourself as Ravager, be careful. The Five Sovereigns of the Heartland aren’t pushovers when it comes to mental strength. Especially Nightwraith—word is, he’s a psychic freak.”

”Got it.”

”And also—”

Ethan cut him off with a smirk. ”You gonna keep fussing over me like a worried mom?”

”Hey, I’m just trying to look out for you, man,” Bloodveil said, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

”Worry about yourself,” Ethan shot back.

”Alright, alright...” Bloodveil raised his hands in surrender. But then, after a beat, he looked up again. ”Okay, one last thing—can I say it?”

Ethan sighed. ”What now?”

Bloodveil pointed toward a hulking shape in the distance. ”That Bulk Freighter Ravager came in... can I have it?”

The freighter was massive—like a steel mountain on thrusters. It could haul a ridiculous amount of cargo, and Bloodveil’s last one had been trashed back in Xenorift during a fish-hauling disaster he didn’t like to talk about.

Ethan didn’t even hesitate. ”Sure. Take it.”

”Hell yeah.” Bloodveil grinned wide.

This one was way better than his old rust bucket. Bigger, faster, and way more impressive. He couldn’t wait to show it off to his zombie crew.

With that, the brief but critical war council came to an end.

Ethan gave the final word. ”Alright, you guys go get ready. We’ll stay in touch through comms.”

”No problem,” both Bloodveil and Meteorfall replied in unison.

This was it.

The war with Heartland was coming. Whether they rose to the top or got wiped off the map—it all came down to this.

Across Necroterra, the zombie hordes of the East, West, North, and South were about to converge on Heartland in a full-scale assault.

Ethan climbed into his personal aircraft and took off alone, heading straight toward Heartland. His mission: scout, infiltrate, and—if the opportunity presented itself—strike.

Bloodveil and Meteorfall watched him go, then turned to their own tasks.

Bloodveil boarded the Bulk Freighter, already calculating the logistics of moving his horde from Razorback Ridge to the outskirts of Heartland. It would mean crossing the entire Eastreach region of Necroterra—a massive undertaking.

And it wouldn’t be a smooth ride. Heartland’s forces would almost certainly try to intercept them. He had no idea what kind of resistance they’d face.

Still, he had no choice but to move.

Two aircraft streaked across the sky in opposite directions, cutting through the clouds like blades.

Meteorfall remained behind, standing alone in the wind, watching until both ships vanished from sight.

Behind him, his zombie troops gathered, blood still fresh on their bodies from the earlier battle. They looked feral, hungry, and ready.

One of them stepped forward. ”Boss, I think those two Voidborn Undying are the real deal. First time meeting us, and they laid out their whole plan. That’s trust.”

Meteorfall gave a dry chuckle. ”It’s not just trust. It’s strategy. They know if I snitched to Heartland, I’d get nothing. I’d be stuck rotting in Westmarch forever, with no way to rise.”

He glanced down at Ravager’s corpse.

”And besides, once Heartland finds out what happened to Ravager, they’ll come for us eventually. Probably wait until the war’s over, then wipe us out just to tie up loose ends.”

His troops nodded, the realization sinking in.

”Damn... makes sense.”

”Alright,” Meteorfall said, eyes gleaming. ”Let’s move.”

Behind him, the zombies let out a chorus of guttural roars. They’d been scraping by in Westmarch for too long. Now, finally, they had a shot at something bigger.

This wasn’t just a battle.

This was their shot at rewriting the rules.

The zombie hordes were on the move.

And the war for Necroterra had officially begun.

...