Apocalypse: I Raised the Ultimate Antagonist from Scratch

The snow along the mountain ridge was turning to grey slush—heavy, slick, and treacherous underfoot. As the seasonal thaw took hold across the highlands, streams of muddy meltwater trickled down the granite crags, pooling in the deep fissures of the jagged rock face and loosening the frozen soil that had held the mountain together for months.

Lieutenant Chen wiped a streak of cold, dirty runoff from his forehead, squinting through his tactical goggles at the towering cliff face above.

Beside him, Ah Hua was crouched low on a narrow stone ledge, carefully sweeping a handheld signal scanner across the icy rock, searching for the hidden frequency signatures of the underground facility.

”This is the spot, Lieutenant,” Ah Hua reported, his breath hitching in the damp, freezing air as the scanner emitted a low, rhythmic chime. ”The GPS coordinates align perfectly with the map. The hidden auxiliary entrance to the secondary depot should be positioned right behind this wall of rock and ice.”

Lieutenant Chen stepped forward, his heavy boots crunching into the slush as he rested a gloved hand against the frozen barrier.

Song Yan had done a remarkably thorough job concealing the depot’s outer perimeter. Layers of packed earth, loose stone, and heavy reinforced wooden beams had been arranged to mimic a natural landslide over the blast door frame, and cold temperatures had subsequently fused the entire structure into a solid, seamless wall of rock and ice.

”We can’t pry this open manually,” Lieutenant Chen muttered, inspecting the jammed seam where the metal frame met the stone cliff. ”We don’t have heavy excavation machinery on this scout run, and if we sit here digging with hand picks, we’ll freeze long before nightfall.”

”Should we ping Commander Han for instructions?” Ah Hua asked, reaching for the heavy radio rig secured to his vest.

”Not yet,” Lieutenant Chen replied, his jaw setting firmly as he evaluated the thick barrier. ”He’s scouting the mining area right now. I’ll clear this ice sheet myself.”

Drawing a deep breath, Lieutenant Chen focused his internal power, channeling his elemental ability. A fierce wave of thermal energy radiated from his palms, pressing directly against the thick ice pack covering the hidden frame. Steam immediately erupted with a violent, deafening hiss, billowing out into the cold mountain air in thick white plumes as the compressed ice began to liquefy under the intense heat.

For a few brief seconds, the strategy seemed to be working perfectly. The thick frozen crust melted away into torrents of boiling water that poured down the rocks. However, Lieutenant Chen had severely underestimated the structural instability of the thawed overhang directly above them.

The sudden, aggressive shock of extreme heat expanded trapped pockets of meltwater inside the deep rock crevices above the hatch. A sharp, violent crack shattered the silence of the valley, followed instantly by a heavy, shuddering groan from the cliff face.

”Get back!” Lieutenant Chen roared, lunging sideways and shoving Ah Hua off the ledge.

A massive section of loosened shale, packed mud, and heavy ice blocks collapsed from the overhang above, sliding down the cliff in a thunderous avalanche. The heavy debris slammed directly into the recessed entryway, burying the iron blast doors beneath tons of packed stone, mud, and shattered rock.

The echo of the rockslide thundered across the valley, reverberating off the mountain walls like a cannon shot.

Inside the deep subterranean structure of the secondary depot, the heavy rumble vibrated directly through the stone foundations.

In Sector 4, fine dust rained down from the overhead ventilation conduits, coating the concrete floors in a thin grey film. The low, steady hum of the air circulation fans wavered as emergency sirens blared throughout the corridors, pulsing harsh red light against the whitewashed walls.

Guo Jiong was already at the inner perimeter security junction when the vibration hit, his hand resting on his sidearm. ”Report!” he shouted over the noise, throwing his weight against the heavy iron control lever.

”The outer auxiliary hatch isn’t responding!” a security guard yelled over the blaring alarm, frantically slamming his palm against the hydraulic manual release. ”The locking pins are completely jammed from the outside! Something massive just caved in over the outer airlock frame!”

”Force the secondary seal lock!” Guo Jiong ordered, his deep voice carrying over the growing panic in the hallway.

”We can’t, sir!” the guard called back, sweat beading on his forehead despite the damp chill of the room. ”The pressure sensors are showing a total external blockage over the main frame. The system thinks the mountain collapsed! If we force the hydraulic piston from inside, we’ll strip the gears completely and ruin the seal!”

Quiet, measured footsteps approached down the corridor, unhurried despite the blaring lights.

Lin Qing pulled her thick fleece blanket tighter around her shoulders as she stepped calmly into the security control bay. The quiet fatigue in her eyes had been instantly replaced by a razor-sharp, analytical focus. She didn’t ask what was happening; her dark eyes swept across the flickering status monitors, taking in the pressure gauges, the system warnings, and the red jammed hatch indicator.

”What caused that impact?” Lin Qing asked, her tone entirely composed despite the flashing sirens.

”A cave-in directly over the secondary entrance,” Guo Jiong said, turning toward her with a grim look. ”We have no working outdoor camera feeds left—the freeze destroyed the optic lines weeks ago. We’re locked in dark, and whatever dropped out there has pinned the steel frame solid.”

Lin Qing stepped up to the main control console, studying the mechanical schematic displayed on the wall. Her eyes tracked the pressure distribution readings across the hydraulic cylinders.

”It wasn’t a natural collapse,” Lin Qing said, her voice cutting through the noise. ”A natural slide builds pressure gradually along the upper shelf before giving way. Look at these pressure spikes—the impact force was concentrated directly over the thermal seam of the outer hatch.”

Guo Jiong blinked, looking at her in sudden surprise. ”Concentrated?”

”Someone applied intense local heat or an explosive shockwave to the outer wall,” Lin Qing explained plainly, her mind calculating the structural mechanics effortlessly. ”The sudden thermal expansion cracked the upper stone shelf and dropped the rock pack directly into the door frame. We aren’t just blocked from opening it manually—we are completely sealed inside until someone clears that rubble from the outside.”

She reached out, flipping two toggle switches on the control panel. ”I’m redirecting power from the auxiliary lights to the structural stabilizer beams. That will buy us time and prevent the ceiling from buckling, but don’t bother trying the hydraulic levers again. The outer door won’t budge from this side.”

Before Guo Jiong could process her analysis, a faint, metallic sound reached them through the heavy intake vents.

It wasn’t the sound of sliding rock or shifting earth. It was the sharp, rapid staccato of automatic gunfire echoing down the mountain valley.

Outside the sealed entrance, Lieutenant Chen and Ah Hua were backed tightly against the fallen rock pile, rifles raised toward the gray, overcast sky.

The loud roar of the rockslide and the sudden blast of intense thermal energy had done far more than jam the depot’s entrance—it had disturbed the cliffside roosts high above the tree line.

A massive, ragged shadow swept across the slushy slope. Dozens of dark, skeletal shapes descended from the pine canopy, their jagged wings beating the thin, freezing air with wet, unnatural thuds. They were zombified mountain birds—their feathers matted with frozen gore, their milky eyes devoid of life, freed from their icy dormancy by the seasonal thaw.

”Contact overhead!” Ah Hua shouted, firing a sharp burst into the gray clouds as the flock dove.

A creature dived like a projectile, its sharp, mutated beak tearing through Ah Hua’s tactical shoulder padding before he managed to duck behind a fallen pine log. The flock swarmed overhead, shrieking with raspy, unnatural cries that echoed horribly off the cliff face. Unlike slow, ground-bound mutated beasts, the avian horde moved with terrifying speed, dropping from the sky and diving from unpredictable angles.

Lieutenant Chen fired his sidearm, unleashing burst after burst of flame to drive the flock back. The heat scorched several dark wings, sending dead, flaming husks tumbling down the slope, but every gunshot and blast of intense heat echoed wildly across the valley, drawing even more roosting creatures from the high ridge.

”We can’t hold them off out in the open!” Ah Hua yelled, slapping a fresh magazine into his rifle as three more winged shapes dived toward them. ”The entrance is jammed, we’re pinned against the cliff, and we’re drawing every creature in a five-mile radius!”

Lieutenant Chen ducked beneath a swooping shadow, the wind from its wings brushing his face as he unclipped his radio unit. He switched to the primary frequency, pressed the broadcast button, and shouted over the chaos.

”Commander Han! This is Lieutenant Chen!” He shouted into the transmitter over the deafening noise of gunfire and shrieking birds. ”We located the auxiliary entrance at Sector 4, but the hatch is jammed solid! We’re surrounded by an aerial flock on the slope and taking heavy pressure! We need immediate backup!”

Through the harsh static of the military receiver, a deep, authoritative voice cut through instantly, completely cold, steady, and unshakeable.

”Hold your position, Chen,” Han Zheng’s voice commanded. ”Team One has cleared the lower ridge and is moving to your coordinates now. We are two minutes out.”