Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Once the Zombie King was under control, the battle stopped almost immediately.

At its command, the remaining zombies stood perfectly still. Even with humans right next to them, they didn’t attack again.

That was when everyone truly understood what Absolute Dominion meant.

To the horde, this Zombie King wasn’t just a leader—it was law. Its orders carried absolute authority.

If it told them not to move, they wouldn’t move.

You could walk up and swing a blade at them, and they still wouldn’t even flinch.

It made Ethan look at that petite figure in a new light.

With it, they could do a lot. Have it gather every zombie in the area into one place for easy cleanup. Or station them around Fallen Star City as a living perimeter. Options.

Catching this Zombie King had been a pain in the ass…

But it was worth it.

After that, Ethan had Skinny Pete take the Zombie King and lead the horde toward Fallen Star City.

The original tide had been over twenty million strong. After this fight, only a little over eight million were left—meaning they’d killed more than ten million.

But it didn’t really matter.

Silverlake City was still far away. There were zombies everywhere along the route. By the time the horde reached that area, it would probably be back up over a hundred million.

At that point, whether they used them as materials or as a weapon, it’d be a pretty damn nice stockpile.

After they finished digging out all the crystal cores, Ethan and the others mounted their Flamebirds and headed out, leaving Skinny Pete alone to march with the horde.

Back in Fallen Star City, Chris and the group immediately threw themselves into special training again.

All of them were already at peak Tier 23—one step away from Stage A—so they couldn’t afford to waste time. They needed to push that last stretch as hard as possible.

Ethan, on the other hand, decided to take a couple days off.

He’d just broken into Stage A. There was no way he was making another breakthrough in the short term, so forcing it would only grind him down.

Power growth needed rhythm. Rest and work. Training every day didn’t automatically mean faster progress.

So while Chris and the others went to train, Ethan disguised himself and wandered around Fallen Star City.

The city’s development had been on track for a while now. A lot of facilities had been restored to something close to pre-apocalypse life—just with way fewer entertainment options.

Before the apocalypse, people could eat, dress warm, and not worry about getting ripped apart on the street. When your basic needs were covered, you naturally started chasing stimulation.

Video games, streaming subscriptions, movie theaters, bars, clubs, gyms, spas, concerts, weekend trips—stuff like that could easily drain more money than food and rent ever did.

After the apocalypse, though?

Different world.

When surviving tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, who had the luxury to care about any of that?

Even now, most major compounds could basically guarantee their people wouldn’t starve or freeze.

But everyone’s focus had shifted to one thing: getting stronger.

Before the apocalypse, money made you important.

After the apocalypse, power did.

In Fallen Star City, as long as you weren’t lazy, raising your Tier wasn’t that hard.

If you had enough points, you could exchange for crystal cores at almost any Tier. Fallen Star City’s reserves were absurd—like, ”how is this even real” levels of stockpiled cores.

And as a resident, there were plenty of ways to earn points.

You could work inside the compound—factories, construction sites, farms—and get a steady daily payout.

Or you could go out hunting zombies or mutant beasts. Zombie crystal cores, mutant crystal cores, even mutant meat—turn it all in for points.

Most people spent a small portion on everyday necessities.

Then they saved the rest.

And once they’d saved enough, they’d cash it in for the crystal core they actually needed.

Ethan wandered through Fallen Star City, watching the place buzz with life, and felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.

Miles really did know what he was doing. Under his management, everything ran smooth—orderly, efficient, like the whole compound had settled into a steady rhythm.

And then, almost the second that thought formed, reality slapped him in the face.

”Hey, handsome,” a woman purred, stepping into his path with a practiced sway. Curves for days, heavy makeup, eyes that didn’t blink enough. ”Looking for a good time? Two hundred points, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Ethan’s expression went… complicated.

”Wait,” he said, honestly a little amused. ”Fallen Star City has sex workers too?”

She rolled her eyes like he’d just asked if water was wet. ”Sweetheart, every city has sex workers. Every compound too, if it’s big enough. I’d bet Atlas City has more than anyone wants to admit.”

”People still get lonely. People still get scared.” She flicked her gaze over him, slow and unapologetic. ”And if two adults agree on a price, who’s gonna stop them?”

Then she added, voice dropping into something almost conversational, ”Everyone’s under pressure now. Nobody knows if they’re coming back alive after they go out. So yeah—living in the moment is the real deal, right?”

Ethan rubbed his chin. ”I mean… you’re not totally wrong.”

She took that as an opening and kept going, like she’d been waiting all day for someone to listen.

”Honestly, what man is gonna dare to get married and have kids now? Marriage means more mouths. More responsibility.” She snorted. ”Death rate’s insane out there. If you die one day, your wife and kid don’t belong to you anymore—they just become someone else’s problem. Or someone else’s… whatever.”

She leaned in a little, smiling like she’d just solved the world. ”Way easier to spend a little, date for half an hour, get what you want, and walk away. No strings. No responsibility. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Ethan had to admit it—every sentence hit.

”No wonder there haven’t been many newborns lately,” he murmured, thinking it through. ”So that’s why.”

”And yeah,” he added, half to himself, ”a baby right now would basically just be… a burden.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. ”Miles probably knows this exists. He’s just letting it slide. Otherwise you wouldn’t be out here soliciting like it’s a regular job.”

She smiled wider. ”So, handsome—wanna have some fun?”

”Uh… no thanks.” Ethan shook his head.

”Too expensive?” She clicked her tongue. ”You’re cute. Fine, I’ll take a loss—one-fifty?”

”Really, no.” Ethan shook his head again and turned to leave.

”Hey—don’t run!” she called after him. ”One hundred! One hundred points and I’m yours!”

She sounded genuinely determined, but Ethan was already moving, slipping into the crowd and putting distance between them.

Atlas City Compound

Maxwell sat at his desk, working through a stack of documents, when a knock sounded at the door.

”Come in,” he said without looking up.

A man stepped inside, moving fast, face tight with urgency. ”General Kane. The Satellite Operations Control Center captured something this morning—likely a Void Realm lifeform. I brought it for you to review.”

Maxwell finally looked up. ”Oh?”

”Let me see.”

The man handed over a printed image.

It was blurry—like the camera had barely caught it before it streaked out of frame—but you could still make out the shapes: a group of humanoid creatures with wings, flying through the sky.

Maxwell stared at the photo, his expression sinking into thought.

”Where was this taken?” he asked.

”Windora State.”

The man’s voice went lower. ”They were too fast. This is the clearest shot we could get. Based on the speed… their strength is unfathomable.”

Maxwell’s face hardened. ”Then it’s almost certainly Void Realm.”

He tapped the edge of the photo once. ”Atlas City is the closest compound to Windora. At their speed, it won’t take long for them to find us.”

The man hesitated. ”General Kane… should we contact Fallen Star City?”

Maxwell didn’t hesitate. ”Mm. You can go. I’ll reach out.”

”Yes, sir.”

Once the man left, Maxwell immediately dialed Ethan.

Out in Fallen Star City, Ethan was in a restaurant, happily working on a plate of roasted mutant jackrabbit. The meat was tender, smoky, and rich—one of those rare meals that made the apocalypse feel far away.

His phone buzzed.

Maxwell.

Ethan’s mood dropped so fast the jackrabbit practically turned to ash in his mouth.

He answered, and before Maxwell could even finish his first sentence, Ethan’s eyes sharpened.

”Damn it,” Ethan muttered, voice turning dark. ”They’re like ghosts. I can’t shake them.”

”And they found us this fast?”