Apocalypse: King of Zombies

”Hey, Tyler, what’s with the new faces?” Kyle strolled up beside Tyler, casually glancing over the group.

The moment his eyes landed on Mia—the only woman in the squad—his gaze lit up. He didn’t even bother looking at the others.

”Tyler, why don’t you hand this group over to me? I’m short on people,” Kyle said, eyes gleaming.

”Cut it out. I know exactly what you’re thinking,” Tyler replied flatly. ”These folks are all Tier 5 Enhanced. How they’re assigned is up to the boss.”

”Tier 5 Enhanced?” Kyle’s interest visibly spiked. He finally looked past Mia and scanned the rest of the group.

Then his eyes landed on the man standing at the front.

Kyle froze.

A second later, his face lit up with disbelief and glee.

”Well, well, if it isn’t my oh-so-successful cousin,” he said, grinning wide. ”Didn’t expect to see you here. Weren’t you off studying in Starlight City? What happened—ran out of money and got kicked back home?”

Ethan stared at Kyle, his expression unreadable.

But inside, a storm was brewing.

Memories he’d buried deep came rushing back, uninvited and sharp.

He was eleven when his parents died in a car crash. His aunt and uncle had stepped in immediately, handling the funeral and applying to become his legal guardians.

His grandparents on his father’s side had passed away years ago, and his aunt was the only remaining family. So it made sense at the time. They took him in.

At first, Ethan had been grateful. His parents hadn’t been close with his aunt—they barely spoke—but she’d still stepped up. He’d even wondered if his parents had misjudged her.

But he learned quickly: everything has a reason.

In the beginning, they treated him well. He was grieving, and their kindness felt like a lifeline.

So when his aunt said she’d help manage the compensation money from the accident, he didn’t think twice. He signed the papers, legally transferring the funds to her.

That was when the nightmare began.

The moment they had the money, everything changed.

They made him do all the housework. If he messed up, he got yelled at—or beaten.

His uncle, drunk, would take out his rage on him. His aunt, after losing at mahjong, would slap him around. If they fought, somehow it was always his fault.

He wasn’t a child in that house. He was a servant. No—he was a slave.

And Kyle, the cousin standing in front of him now, had been the worst of them all.

Kyle treated him like garbage. Constant insults, constant beatings. And Ethan couldn’t fight back. If he did, the punishments were worse.

Every time Kyle screwed up, Ethan took the blame. All Kyle had to do was say, ”He did it,” and the belt would come out.

He remembered the day Kyle smashed the only gift Ethan had left from his parents—his most treasured possession. He’d kept it hidden, something to hold onto when the grief got too heavy.

Kyle had found it. Smashed it in front of him.

Ethan had pushed him, just once, in anger.

Kyle dropped to the floor and started bawling.

That night, Ethan was whipped with a belt—not long each time, but often enough to leave him raw. Then they locked him in the bathroom overnight.

He sat there, bruised and bleeding, clutching the broken pieces of that gift, crying silently until morning.

He remembered the time he got sick and couldn’t get up to make breakfast. His uncle dragged him out of bed and slammed his head into the floor so hard he nearly blacked out—then beat him anyway.

He called the police once.

They came. Asked a few questions. Took notes. Then left.

His aunt and uncle were his legal guardians. There was no visible evidence that day. They couldn’t do anything.

Child services were notified.

Nothing happened.

After the cops left, they beat him until his skin split, then locked him in the basement for two days. No food. No water.

That was when Ethan realized: if he wanted out of that hell, he’d have to save himself.

That summer, he ran away. Never went back.

He was twelve.

He wandered from place to place, too young for anyone to hire. He dug through trash for food, collected bottles for change.

He didn’t stay in one spot.

Sometimes he slept under bridges. Sometimes in abandoned buildings. Sometimes wherever no one asked questions.

He avoided shelters. Avoided social workers. Avoided anything that might send him back.

That was his life for nearly two months.

At first, his aunt and uncle looked for him. But when they used his parents’ compensation money to buy a house in Redmont, they stopped caring.

It wasn’t until middle school that things started to change. The school helped him apply for the Homeless Student Program. He finally had a bed to sleep in.

Most of the paperwork had been handled by a kind elementary school teacher who’d remembered him. She’d seen his grades, learned about his situation, and helped him get everything in order.

That’s when Ethan realized—school was his only way out.

So he went back.

He met Chris not long after. Chris helped him out when he could, and slowly, things got better. As he got older, he started working part-time jobs wherever he could.

Eventually, he made it into college.

That was the childhood he never wanted to remember.

And now, the person who’d made it a living hell was standing right in front of him, grinning like he’d won.

Ethan had always assumed that family was long dead—wiped out in the chaos of the apocalypse.

But here Kyle was. Alive. Smirking. Still the same arrogant bastard he’d always been.

The longer Ethan stared at him, the more the fury built inside him, rising like a tide he couldn’t hold back.

Chris and the others could feel it too. Ethan, usually calm and composed, was radiating pure rage. That alone told them everything they needed to know about Kyle.

Anyone who could make Ethan this angry… had to be someone from his past.

”You know them?” Tyler asked, surprised.

”Know them? Of course I do,” Kyle said with a grin, eyes locked on Ethan. ”This is my dear cousin. Right, cuz?”

He leaned in, mocking. ”What’s with that look? Gonna eat me alive? I’m shaking.”

Then his smile twisted cruelly. ”Still the same little bastard, huh? Just as pathetic as ever. Let me spell it out for you—I’m a Tier 6 Awakened now. One of the top dogs in this compound. You used to be the mutt living under my roof. And now? You’ll be my mutt again.”

That was it.

Chris snapped.

He couldn’t stand anyone talking to Ethan like that. Without a word, he stepped forward and launched a brutal kick straight at Kyle.

Kyle reacted fast—credit where it was due. Spikes burst from his body in an instant, his [Thorn Armor] activating just in time.

Chris pulled back mid-kick, avoiding the worst of it.

Kyle sneered, ready to gloat—until he saw the steel rebar in Chris’s hands swing down like a hammer.

CRACK!

The blow landed square on Kyle’s chest. His thorn armor shattered like glass, and he was sent flying over thirty feet, blood spraying from his mouth as he crashed to the ground.

He didn’t get up.

”!!!”

Everyone froze.

All eyes locked on Chris, stunned.

”You’re Tier 6!?” Tyler blurted out, disbelief written all over his face.

”Nope,” Chris said flatly.

”That’s impossible! If you’re not Tier 6, how the hell did you break Kyle’s [Thorn Armor]?!”

”Guh—!”

Kyle, still on the ground, coughed up more blood. His face twisted in shock and fear as he stared at Chris.

”Tyler… he’s… he’s Tier 7!”

”!!!”

”What?! No way!”

Kyle didn’t want to believe it either—but he knew exactly how strong his own ability was. With [Thorn Armor] active, even a peak Tier 6 couldn’t have done that much damage.

Only a Tier 7 could’ve crushed him like that.