Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Slade’s heart lurched in panic. He stumbled back, trying to dodge, but the blade was lightning-fast—it sliced past his forehead so close it actually sheared off a few strands of his hair.

The energy from the lightning-type crystal core stung his skin like a thousand needles, sharp and searing.

He staggered several steps before finally regaining his balance, chest heaving. That was way too close—he’d just brushed past death’s door.

Cold sweat trickled down his spine, soaking the back of his shirt. He blinked, trying to focus.

A girl had appeared.

She was slim, almost fragile-looking, with pale skin and a face so delicate it could’ve been carved from porcelain. But her expression was ice-cold.

It was Mia—Ethan’s so-called ”best friend.”

She gave a slight nod, her eyes scanning Slade. Her gaze landed on the tattoo under his chin—a distinctive mark.

”Black Hand Legion?”

”You… who the hell are you? Why’d you stop me from killing that zombie?” Slade asked, still shaken.

Before Mia could answer, another figure approached from the distance—a young man in a black trench coat, collar pulled up to his jaw. His eyes, sharp and star-like, locked onto Slade.

It was Robert.

”Black Hand Legion members are just walking sins. Honestly, they’re worse than the zombies.”

”You—” Slade’s expression darkened. This guy wasn’t weak. Not at all. He could feel it—Robert was a serious threat.

Now with two top-tier Awakeners from the 001 Shelter showing up, the tension in the air thickened.

They stood opposite the Black Hand Legion’s leader—one side representing order, the other chaos. Mortal enemies, through and through.

But something felt off about the shelter’s lineup today. Only Mia and Robert had shown up. Sean, Chris, Brandon, and Griffin were nowhere to be seen.

Robert’s eyes flicked toward a nearby aircraft. The Genesis Biotech logo was clearly visible on its side. Standing next to it—Sophia.

”Sophia… or should I say, the new head of the Black Hand Legion?”

”...” Sophia clenched her jaw, silent. She’d known what she was getting into when she chose this path. She was ready to carry the weight.

”You shouldn’t have interfered,” she said at last. ”Everything I’ve done—it’s all been to fight the zombies.”

”No. This is about your ambition. Don’t dress it up as justice. That kind of hypocrisy deserves judgment.” Robert raised his hand, and with a sharp metallic hum, his katana flashed with electric light—his so-called Blade of Justice.

Mia glanced at him sideways, thinking, Edgy teenager much?

Around them, Black Hand Legion members began to close in, surrounding the group.

”Man, this guy talks too damn much.”

”Seriously. We do what we want. Who the hell are you to judge us, kid?”

”Shelter pigs, huh? I’ve gutted more than a few.”

”Hey, that chick’s kinda cute though.”

”...”

The Black Hand Legion was made up of outlaws and killers. Their faces twisted into cruel grins, eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

Slade’s expression turned grim as he stared at Mia.

Back in Blackhand City, Texas, he’d fought against the Laredo Shelter’s top Awakeners. With his S-rank power and mastery of Shadowmancy, he hadn’t just held his own—he’d had the upper hand.

”Let’s see what you’ve really got.”

The two sides stood locked in a standoff, the air between them thick with killing intent. The tension was about to snap.

This wasn’t just a showdown between zombie kings anymore. It was a clash of humanity’s strongest—a battle between order and chaos. One that would be remembered for generations.

”Shadowbind,” Slade whispered, activating his Shadowmancy.

The shadow beneath his feet spread outward, swelling into a massive pool of darkness that surged toward Mia.

”What kind of ability is this?” Mia tilted her head, watching curiously. She didn’t move, just observed.

But in the next instant, the shadows surged up around her, wrapping around her body like a hundred ropes.

Her bones cracked audibly under the pressure. The force of the binding was immense.

Tch… And here I thought she’d put up a fight, Slade muttered to himself. He drew his kukri and lunged forward. From where he stood, Mia looked completely immobilized—an easy kill.

He swung the kukri in a wide arc, aiming straight for her slender neck.

Mia fought against the shadows binding her body, forcing her arm upward. Her long, slender fingers reached straight for the incoming kukri.

Shhk!

The blade, moving with deadly speed, came to a sudden halt—caught squarely in her palm. It didn’t budge an inch.

Blood welled up between her fingers, dripping down her wrist.

Slade’s eyes narrowed. That strike should’ve sliced through her fingers like paper. What the hell?

How strong was her body?

But what truly unsettled him was her face—completely blank. No pain. No reaction. Just cold, unflinching calm.

”So this is what passes for a Black Hand Legion leader now? Each one worse than the last.”

There were five major leaders in the Black Hand Legion. Mia vaguely remembered that trip to Blackhand City with Ethan—how they’d made one of them, a guy named Damon, disappear.

Slade’s strength was about on par with his.

Her eyes shifted, locking onto the kukri still gripped in her bleeding hand.

”And your tech? Still garbage. These weapons are ancient. You guys haven’t evolved at all.”

With that, her fingers clenched.

Crack!

The blade snapped in half with a sharp, metallic pop.

”What the—” Slade’s eyes went wide, stunned.

Before he could react, Mia swung her tachi in a diagonal arc, aiming straight for his jaw.

But the Shadowbind still slowed her down just enough. Slade managed to stumble back, narrowly dodging the strike.

He stared at the broken blade in his hand, completely thrown off.

This woman was insane. She’d just snapped a reinforced alloy weapon with her bare hand.

What kind of power was that?

He looked up. Blood still dripped from Mia’s palm, but her eyes were ice. In her other hand, she held the tachi, stepping toward him—slow, steady, relentless.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Robert was locked in combat with a squad of Black Hand Legion elites. Most of them were A+ rank, some even brushing the edge of S-rank.

They fought dirty—ruthless and efficient. Elemental energy surged around them. Walls of ice and stone erupted from the ground with thunderous force, boxing Robert in, cutting off his movement.

Two speed-type Awakeners flitted around him like shadows, striking from blind spots.

Robert barely managed to block or dodge each attack, sometimes by a hair’s breadth.

”Let’s see how long you can keep this up!” one of them sneered—a guy with dreadlocks tied back in thick braids, his grin full of malice.

They had the numbers, and they were using it. Overwhelming him with sheer pressure. It was a smart tactic.

All it would take was one mistake—one slip—and Robert would be dead.

And the longer the fight dragged on, the more likely that mistake would come.

Any normal Awakener would’ve already fallen.

But Robert moved with precision, calm and calculated. He deflected every strike, countered every move, and gradually pulled back, putting distance between himself and the group.

”What’s wrong? Running away now?” the dreadlocked man taunted, trying to get in his head. ”You shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

”Too late to regret it now!” another chimed in, laughing.

They were trying to break him mentally, wear him down.

But Robert didn’t even flinch. He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the horizon.

The battle had raged from dusk into night. The last traces of sunlight had vanished. Darkness now blanketed the desolate land.

He whispered under his breath, voice low and steady—

”Night falls. Time to close your eyes...”

...