Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Lloyd, commander of the central gate, spat blood from his mouth, hacked down a Level 2 mutant that had pushed through, and stumbled back from the front line. “Where the hell’s my fire support? You bastards asleep back there?!”

His bellow rattled through the chaos, but even as a Level 3 Awakened, he couldn’t command order from this storm. Four hours into the assault, the battle had devolved into a grinder.

The city’s Awakened—civilians, investors, anyone with power—had been thrown into the fight, but it wasn’t enough. They could only pick off the tougher mutants that reached the walls. Against the endless swarms of lesser beasts, only the heavy guns could hold the line.

“Lloyd… we can’t…” An Awakened slumped in his arms, blood bubbling at his lips. The flash of cannon fire lit Lloyd’s mud-smeared, bloodstreaked face as the man died.

The cannons roared on, but most of the crews operating them were half-dead already.

“Goddammit, their hands are all broken! Somebody replace them!” Lloyd barked, watching the trembling soldiers at the weapons. They weren’t Awakened—just men, close-range fodder for beasts fast enough to break through. Almost every last one was wounded.

“Sir, these aren’t the worst… if they can’t man the guns, we’ve got no fire support left.”

Lloyd’s fists clenched around the haft of his cracked, blood-red warhammer. “Where the fuck is backup?!”

“The east, west, and north gates are in the same shape. No one’s coming.”

Lloyd laughed bitterly and hefted the hammer again—just as he spotted a figure darting back with two more wounded slung over his shoulders.

“Zane! You’re a fucking Level 2 Awakened, quit playing medic and fight!”

Zane dropped the wounded, scowling. “My talents aren’t worth shit in combat. Best I can do is drag wounded off the line so they don’t die. You want me to fight? Forget it. If this keeps up, I’m pulling out!”

He spat to the side, bitter. Ever since taking over Ironfang Syndicate, he’d broken his back turning it into a business powerhouse. When Project Spider broke ground, he saw a goldmine and rushed to buy shops outside the walls.

Northern Primitive Town had already been carved up by other families, so he’d gambled on Northern Spiritual Town instead. And now here he was—bleeding, hauling bodies in the middle of a siege.

What a fucking joke.

“If you so much as think about retreating, I’ll have your shop shuttered every damn day from now on,” Lloyd spat, his voice rough with fury, his eyes flashing with something more complicated than anger.

Zane had threatened to bolt half a dozen times over the past hour, but he was still there, moving through fire and blood, hauling the wounded off the front lines. Like hell he’d admit it, but plenty of Awakened would already be dead without him.

Bang!

Lloyd’s hammer finally shattered, the head breaking clean off as the weapon split under the strain. A Level 3 Sharptooth Tiger mutant barreled past him, bellowing, its four-meter bulk shaking the ruined ground as it charged straight for the artillery crews still desperately firing at the gate.

Lloyd tried to rise, his body screaming in protest, but his legs refused him.

“Shit…”

He slumped beside the wrecked chariot, watching helplessly as the beast thundered closer to his men. The gunners kept firing, oblivious to their own deaths rushing toward them. He shut his eyes and braced for the inevitable.

Three heartbeats passed. The crash never came.

When he forced his eyes open, the Sharptooth was already sprawled in the dirt, its head twisted at an impossible angle.

“At least… we made it in time.”

Two figures stood where the monster had fallen: a sharp-eyed man and a woman like a drawn blade, both clad in the black uniforms of the Whisper Syndicate, the silver crescent insignia on their chests gleaming in the firelight.

“Whisper Syndicate reinforcements are here!”

Lloyd’s chest swelled with relief so fierce it nearly broke him. As for the little girl tucked in their shadow, he didn’t bother to ask. Not when salvation had just walked onto his battlefield.

Across the blood-soaked gate, soldiers and Awakened alike froze, then roared with joy.

“It’s the Syndicate!”

“We’re saved!”

Hope sparked like wildfire through exhausted eyes, and the endless, hopeless fight suddenly felt bearable again.

Lloyd staggered forward, introducing himself with ragged pride. “Sir, I’m Lloyd, Commander of the Ministry of Defense at the central gate of Northern Spiritual Town!”

“Axel!” A voice cut across the chaos.

Zane jogged up, dropping off another pair of wounded. His grin was strained, but genuine.

“Zane? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Don’t even ask. Long story,” Zane muttered with a bitter chuckle. “Where’s the rest of your squad?”

He knew Axel’s team — knew Obsidian’s crew had two Level 5 Awakeneds. With them, the gate would be untouchable.

“They’re covering the other gates. It’s just us here.”

“Just you two?” Lloyd’s brief hope dimmed, though he didn’t protest. He knew the truth as well as anyone: if Axel had split his forces, then the other gates had it worse.

Axel nodded. “That’ll be enough. Kaia — start.”

Lloyd and Zane both expected her to draw a blade or move into formation. Instead, Kaia sat down on the stone like she was about to meditate.

“What the hell are they—”

Before he could finish, a dozen badly wounded soldiers were carried out from the triage tents and laid at Axel’s feet.

“These men are on death’s door! Get them back inside!” Lloyd barked.

But the medic in charge shook his head, just as confused. “Orders were to bring them here. From the Syndicate commander himself.”

“What?”

Lloyd was still reeling when Axel’s calm voice cut through.

“Lloyd, over here. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. He crouched among the dying men, and suddenly, Axel’s Force surged outward, flooding through him.

Abundance.

The skill burst like sunlight through his veins. Lloyd’s pain vanished, his skin knitting shut, his muscles unknotting as if he’d never fought a day in his life. Around him, soldiers who’d been screaming moments before rose to their feet, whole again, eyes blazing with fresh resolve.

“What the— A Level 4… and a Medical Awakened?!” Lloyd gasped. His voice cracked with awe.

The wounded rushed back to the line, their replacements stepping in without hesitation.

Lloyd was about to charge after them when Axel’s voice stopped him again.

“Not yet. Stay put.”

Confused, Lloyd froze — until another pulse of Force slammed into him.

Recharge.

The world sharpened. His strength, his speed, his stamina — all of it multiplied in a single breath. He staggered under the rush of borrowed power, clutching his warhammer’s broken haft.

“Keep bringing the injured,” Axel ordered, his tone steady and unshakable.

“Yes, sir!” the soldiers chorused, already sprinting back into the fire.

Lloyd finally understood why just two people had dared to reinforce the Middle Gate. Axel’s abilities were practically built for this battlefield.

The Middle Gate had the most mutant beasts, but also the largest number of fighters and heavy weapons. As long as the soldiers could keep fighting, the gate wouldn’t fall. Axel’s support was far more effective than a single powerhouse Awakener showing up.

The Awakened holding the front lines had already been surrounded, fending off the toughest beasts in brutal close combat. Suddenly, though, the firepower behind them exploded.

The sporadic gunfire and artillery barrages turned into a storm. Mutants dropped in waves, row after row, like cut wheat.

“Support—support is here!”

“Hold the line!”

Right then, Kaia’s voice echoed inside the fighters’ heads:

“Injured Awakened, fall back to the Middle Gate. The medics will treat you immediately, and you’ll be cleared to return to battle as soon as you’re healed.”

Many had kept fighting despite severe wounds, terrified that leaving would doom the gate. Now, hearing Kaia’s command and feeling the intensified support from behind, they finally dared to break off.