Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Sergio exhaled slowly, snapping his fan shut and placing a hand on Axel’s shoulder.

“So let me ask you this. If everyone refuses to go with you… will you still seek out the Saints?”

“Yes.”

Sergio’s eyes narrowed. “And if they all agree—but I object?”

His tone was calm. Emotionless.

Axel replied softly, “You said you owe me a favor.”

The air in the car froze.

Sergio’s pupils shrank. “You should know… favors aren’t always useful.”

Axel nodded, casually clasping his hands behind his neck. “I know. Which is why, if you refuse… I’ll never use that favor.”

The tension instantly turned glacial.

Sergio’s eyelids twitched. For the first time, he felt he truly saw Axel.

Until now, Axel had always seemed composed, rational, perfectly polite—so polished that his real thoughts were impossible to grasp.

But those words were cold. Absolute.

I’ll never use it.

That meant something irreversible.

They would never truly be friends.

Sergio gave a self-mocking, bitter smile.

“So,” Axel said politely, “are you going to ask me to get out of the car now?”

Instead, Sergio pressed a button. The windows darkened completely, plunging the interior into deeper silence.

“You know what, Axel?” Sergio said quietly. “That’s the harshest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Axel met his gaze without speaking.

“But it’s also the most honest,” Sergio continued, his dark eyes shining. “I hate people playing games with me. I prefer the truth—even when it cuts.”

He paused, then smiled faintly.

“Your real self is cold. Unsettling, even. But somehow… I feel relieved now.”

Axel lifted his head, genuinely puzzled.

“Who wouldn’t want to test themselves against those so-called peak Level Five Saints?” Sergio chuckled. “Count me in.”

He extended his hand. Axel instinctively reached out, and their hands clasped briefly.

Sergio smiled. “I hope you’ll be a good friend to me from now on. You’re free to scheme against me—just don’t let me find out, or I might actually get hurt.”

Axel’s body trembled faintly. Those words struck a chord, echoing the voice of a long-lost friend.

“Thank you, Sergio.”

Sergio hissed and snapped his fan open, fanning himself. “That was cheesy. Now that we’re officially on the edge together, let me ask something properly. If you want to take out the Saints, you’ll need to leave Everton first. Am I right?”

“And even if you do leave, how can you be sure they’ll come after you?”

Sergio had many questions. Axel clearly had a plan, but Sergio wanted to understand it—even if only roughly.

“I can only give you the outline,” Axel said.

Even inside the sealed car, Axel leaned closer and spoke in a low whisper for about a minute.

During that minute, Sergio’s expression shifted again and again. By the end, his face had gone pale.

“…I really underestimated you,” Sergio said quietly. “If it were me, I couldn’t pull this off.”

He paused, then nodded slowly. “Alright. In that case, they will come.”

“But I have another question. How do we find you… in that place?”

This wasn’t suspicion—it was concern. Axel understood that immediately. He smiled faintly and wrote a few words on Sergio’s palm.

Sergio froze.

Then his eyes lit up with realization. “You’ve thought of everything.”

After a long silence, Axel spoke first. “We probably won’t see each other for a while. The rest is up to you—including… Lilith.”

Sergio’s gaze grew complicated. “Thank you… for trusting me.”

Axel leaned back into the soft, sofa-like seat, his expression finally relaxing. “It’s a gamble.”

“Then we’ll most likely meet again in two months.”

......

Not long after, the black vehicle stopped outside the villa district. Axel stepped out and waved as the car pulled away.

Before his arm could fully lower, a massive figure blocked his path.

The next instant, Axel was yanked violently off balance. He tried to activate his Force—but it was too late. His body lurched, the world twisting—

And suddenly, he was wedged in a narrow gap between two buildings.

Butcher gnawed viciously on a strip of pork jerky, glaring at him.

“Kid,” he growled, “what the hell were you doing in that car with that guy?”

Butcher was genuinely irritated. He hadn’t dared approach Isidore’s grounds—it was crawling with high-end tech, and the risk of exposure was too high.

So he’d waited outside.

Then Axel got into that black car.

Butcher had tried probing it with mental force—only to find it completely impenetrable.

This was the first time in a long while that Axel had slipped beyond his control.

And it pissed him off.

“Big bro,” Axel said irritably, “we’re both men. What do you think we were doing?”

Butcher snorted, a little embarrassed by how rough he’d been—but not about to admit it.

“Well, who knows? You’re not exactly young, and you don’t even have a girlfriend. Who knows if you’re straight.”

Axel’s lips twitched. “…Just get to the point.”

Butcher stuffed the rest of the jerky into his mouth and squinted at him. “You plotting something nasty?”

“Promotion,” Axel said flatly. “How am I supposed to advance if I don’t hit Level Six? Everything I’ve done in Everton—wasn’t it all preparation?”

Butcher paused.

Saint Sea Twig.

The Havoc Division sparring tournament.

Building connections with Everton’s young elites.

“…And am I an idiot?” Axel continued. “I already know more geniuses from top families than I can count. Compared to them, what the hell is a Saint?”

Axel’s dismissive tone left Butcher uncertain.

“You’d better not be bullshitting me,” Butcher grunted. “I hear you’re a damn good actor.”

Axel sneered. “You’re right. I’ve been planning to leave Everton all along. Everything before that was an act. You were completely fooled. Happy now?”

Butcher scratched his thinning hair, suddenly awkward. “Bullshit. Forget it—I’m out.”

As Butcher walked away, Axel muttered under his breath, still annoyed. “Ridiculous.”

He turned and headed back into the apartment.

In a shadowed corner nearby, Butcher concealed his presence and ripped open another bag of pork jerky.

“…Am I getting paranoid?”

Inside the room, Axel closed the door and let out a slow breath. His gaze gradually settled, growing calm and distant.

“…Sorry.”

......

In Krythos, within a long-abandoned village, figures appeared one by one inside a crumbling courtyard.

At the center stood a lean man with sharp features and piercing eyes. His gaze swept the area before he spoke calmly.

“You were summoned.”

These five were none other than the Saints—and the man before them was their leader, Mr. Scott.

“The military is preparing a large-scale purge of mutated beasts in the outer wilderness of Mirabelle Province,” Scott said. “Among their objectives are several targets worth our attention.”

Lorenzo, wearing a tiger-patterned mask, spoke first. “You want us to move? The military’s been running operations against us nonstop lately. This smells like a trap.”

Scott clasped his hands behind his back and stared into the distance. “It is a trap.”

The others stiffened.

“And yet,” Scott continued evenly, “you’ll still act.”

The Saints exchanged glances.

“The military’s learned that if a team includes a Level Six Awakener, we don’t show ourselves,” one of them said. “So this time, they’ve ordered all Level Six leaders to stay out.”

Savannah let out a soft, silver laugh. “Planning to drown us in numbers instead?”

The tension eased slightly.

Scott nodded. “Yes. Since learning of our existence, people like Axel have gone to ground inside major cities. Our progress has been… inefficient.”

“Our master is on the verge of awakening,” Scott continued. “When that happens, our very existence will be elevated. For this operation, I need all of you working together.”

“In the past, we didn’t leave as much blood behind as possible to erase traces of ourselves. This time…” His voice remained calm, but something cold and metallic lingered in it. “There’s no need for restraint.”

“Understood.”

Lorenzo and the others nodded. Their masks betrayed no emotion.

“Mr. Scott,” Lorenzo asked, “where is Axel now?”