Apocalypse: King of Zombies

The group had originally planned to head back to Lakeview Estates, but by the time they’d patched themselves up and caught their breath, the sky had already gone dark. With night falling fast, they decided to rough it for one more evening.

They found a nearby building with a rooftop and climbed up to crash there for the night.

It was October in Starlight City, and the nights were already getting chilly. But with their enhanced physiques, none of them were particularly bothered by the cold. In the apocalypse, you learned to enjoy comfort when it came and endure hardship when it didn’t. No one had the luxury of being picky.

They lay on the cold concrete, bodies aching, and drifted off one by one.

Ethan woke around midnight, eyes blinking open to a sky full of stars. He lay there for a moment, staring upward, letting the silence settle around him.

Then he noticed something strange.

The rate at which he was absorbing mysterious energy had suddenly spiked—sharply. It wasn’t just faster when he looked at the stars; even when he wasn’t focusing, the energy was flowing into him on its own.

He closed his eyes and focused inward.

In his mind’s eye, the constellation map shimmered faintly. The first star—Alkaid—was glowing, pulsing gently like it was breathing in the night air. It was absorbing the mysterious energy directly.

”So lighting up a star lets you passively absorb mysterious energy?” Ethan mused.

Curious, he got up and padded quietly down from the rooftop, heading into the room below. He stood there for a moment, watching.

Sure enough, even indoors, the energy still trickled in—just not as much as it did under the open sky.

It made sense. Ever since the Nine-Star Dipper had appeared in the sky, Earth’s mysterious energy had grown more active. When a star in the constellation lit up, it seemed to resonate with that energy, drawing it in automatically.

Before lighting a star, you had to focus—stare at the Nine-Star Dipper, channel its power, and pull the energy in manually. That’s how they’d all been training up until now.

But now? Now the star in his mind was doing the work for him.

Ethan leaned against the wall, thinking.

”So Stage D is when humans really start training on their own. No more relying entirely on crystal cores. That’s huge.”

Still, he wasn’t about to toss the cores aside. ”Crystal cores speed things up like crazy. Sure, I could train like this every night and maybe level up once every ten days or so. But with enough cores? I could jump several Tiers in a single day.”

He smiled to himself.

”Either way, Stage D is the real turning point. Humanity’s finally starting to evolve on its own terms.”

He climbed back up to the rooftop and lay down again, eyes fixed on the stars.

The energy flow increased almost immediately. No doubt about it—training under the open sky was way more effective than doing it indoors.

But then he frowned.

Something felt... off.

He focused again, tracking the flow of energy. Some of it was being pulled into the Alkaid star in his mind, then fed back into his body—strengthening him from the inside out. But another stream of energy was bypassing the star entirely, flowing straight into his body.

He closed his eyes and concentrated.

It became clear: the energy absorbed by the Alkaid star was the kind that contributed to Tier advancement. It was structured, refined, and fed back into his core systems. But the energy he drew in by looking at the real Nine-Star Dipper—by manually channeling it—was different. It went straight into his body, enhancing his physical attributes but not affecting his Tier.

Two separate channels. One internal, one external.

”So the energy I get from stargazing only boosts my physical stats. It doesn’t help me level up,” Ethan murmured, rubbing his chin.

”But that’s not a bad thing. It means I’m strengthening my body independently—borrowing the power of the real Nine-Star Dipper to do it.”

He grinned.

”Which means, even at the same Tier, I’ll be physically stronger than anyone else.”

”Ethan, what’s with you tonight?” Chris’s voice drifted over from the other side of the rooftop. ”You’ve been pacing around and muttering to yourself like a crazy person.”

Ethan chuckled. ”Just figured something out.”

He turned to the others. ”Keep it up, guys. Once you hit Stage D, you’ll be able to train on your own and level up without needing crystal cores.”

”For real?” Sean sat up, suddenly wide awake.

”Dead serious. But you’ve gotta keep stargazing every night. That’s our biggest advantage now.”

”Got it!” Sean grinned, and the others nodded, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

At dawn, the group was already on their feet, stretching sore limbs and shaking off the chill. They set off toward home, keeping an eye out for any Tier 5 zombies along the way.

It had been three days since they’d left the luxury home in Lakeview Estates. Time to check in, make sure everything was still standing.

With Ethan’s breakthrough to Stage D, their squad’s overall strength had taken a serious leap. At this point, even if the military showed up, Ethan wouldn’t bat an eye.

Teleportation changed everything.

Even if someone tried to shell him with artillery, he could just blink behind them and wreck their gear before they knew what hit them. That was exactly why he’d chosen a spatial-type ability like Teleportation—it wasn’t flashy, but it was devastating in the right hands.

Still, it came with a cost.

The farther he jumped, the more energy it drained. At his current level, the max range was about 1,200 feet. Any farther, and he’d risk blacking out. For short hops, though, he could manage four or five in a row—plenty for most situations.

About ten minutes into their walk, they spotted a horde—roughly two thousand zombies—and right in the middle of it, a Tier 5.

The group instinctively tensed, readying for a fight.

But Ethan just smiled—and vanished.

A blink later, he reappeared in the heart of the horde, barbell bar already swinging. With a sickening crunch, he caved in the Tier 5’s skull, then reached into the mess and plucked out the crystal core like he was picking an apple.

Then—pop—he was back at their side, not a scratch on him.

”...Guh.”

Everyone swallowed hard, eyes wide, expressions frozen somewhere between awe and disbelief.

”That’s it?” Chris said, voice cracking.

”What, you were expecting a boss fight?” Ethan grinned. ”It’s just a Tier 5. One swing.”

”...”

”Dude,” Sean muttered. ”Your power is straight-up broken.”

”Yeah, you’re making Tier 5s look like trash mobs,” he added, shaking his head.

Big Mike was practically bouncing. ”Man, if it’s that easy, we’re gonna be swimming in Tier 5 cores!”

”Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Ethan said, chuckling. ”Teleportation burns a lot of juice. I can’t spam it all day. But yeah, for quick kills like this? It’s worth it. Saves us a ton of time.”

”Still, damn useful,” Skinny Pete nodded.

”Alright,” Ethan said, slinging the barbell bar over his shoulder. ”Let’s head home.”

The trek back took hours. By the time they reached the gates of Lakeview Estates, the sun was already dipping low.

But the moment they stepped inside the luxury home, their relief turned to fury.

The place was trashed.

Furniture overturned, glass shattered, blood smeared across the walls. The living room looked like it had hosted a war—and lost.

And the worst part?

Pumpkin was nowhere to be seen.

They didn’t need to guess who was behind it.

”Pumpkin,” Ethan growled, voice low and sharp.

”Pumpkin!” he called again, louder this time, scanning the wreckage.

No answer.

”Search the house!” he barked.

The others scattered, tearing through every room, every closet, every corner.

Nothing.

No sign of her.

Ethan stood in the middle of the wreckage, fists clenched, jaw tight. His eyes were cold now—flat and dangerous.

”If something’s happened to Pumpkin,” he said quietly, ”I don’t care who did it, or where they are…”

”I’ll kill them.”

...