Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 617: Expected

BOOOOM!

The sky and earth shook violently. Space itself seemed to buckle and collapse as a blinding surge of energy shot upward, tearing through the clouds like a blade through silk.

Shockwaves rippled out in perfect rings, flattening everything in their path. Mountains cracked, boulders shattered, and the debris was ground into dust, swirling into the air like ash.

Countless zombies were thrown off their feet, flung hundreds of feet through the air like rag dolls.

Even the Zombie Kings—like Bulldozer—were forced to hunker down, arms over their heads, bracing against the sandstorm-like blast that tore through the battlefield.

"Holy shit..."

The sheer force of that clash between two titans was enough to level cities. It was a display of power that could only come from the absolute peak of Earth’s food chain.

The zombies were frozen in place, trembling under the crushing pressure, eyes locked on the epicenter of the battle.

"Who won?"

"C’mon, who else? Our boss, obviously!" freeωebnovēl.c૦m

"Damn right. I can still feel his energy..."

"Yeah, he’s still standing. I know it."

"..."

All eyes were on the center of the battlefield—a crater that had become the focus of millions of undead stares. The storm was finally dying down, the shockwaves fading into silence. The ground was a mess of deep fissures and scorched earth, with waves of heat still rising from the cracks.

It looked like the end of the world.

Sophia stood off to the side, brows furrowed, tension etched across her face. She was praying—silently, bitterly—that both of them had taken each other out. If the strongest Zombie King in the U.S. died, and that Gen-5 Cyborg burned through all his energy...

Then she could swoop in and take it all.

But as the dust slowly settled, the truth became clear.

At the center of the crater, rocks still crumbling inward, a lone figure stood tall at the edge. Shirtless, his body was a sculpture of lean, deadly muscle, every line defined, every movement radiating power. A faint red aura shimmered around him—blood energy, raw and potent.

At his feet, in the heart of the crater, lay a broken metallic body. Twisted, scorched, sparking in places, the Gen-5 Cyborg was a wreck. Its limbs were bent at unnatural angles, armor plates torn open, wires exposed and twitching.

Ethan stood over it, looking down with cold, unreadable eyes.

There was no doubt who had won.

"ROOOAAARRR!"

The American zombie horde erupted in a frenzy, howling with bloodlust and triumph.

Their hearts surged with pride and awe.

Of course. Of course the boss was unbeatable.

"He did it!"

"Damn, he looks badass!"

"Hell yeah! With him around, we never lose!"

"..."

The battlefield was electric with undead excitement. That lone figure in the crater wasn’t just a leader anymore—he was a legend.

"Damn it!"

Far off, Sophia clenched her fists, her teeth grinding in frustration.

Her last shred of hope had just gone up in smoke.

"That damn Cyborg! Ruined everything!" she spat, seething.

Not only had the Gen-5 Cyborg failed to take down the strongest Zombie King in America, but his mechanical army had burned through all its energy slaughtering her Canadian horde...

Not a single drop of power wasted.

Now, they’d lost. Completely. No way to spin it.

Sophia’s mind raced, already trying to piece together a new plan.

Her eyes, almost involuntarily, drifted toward the nearby aircraft...

...

Inside the massive crater, LORN’s metallic body sparked and groaned, joints grinding as he struggled to stand. Arcs of electricity danced violently across his frame—he was clearly on the verge of total system failure.

"I refuse to accept this!" he snarled.

Ethan tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but edged with steel. "You’re actually pretty strong... stronger than Nightbane, I’d say."

"..." LORN seethed in silence, fury boiling in his core. "If my true body were here, you wouldn’t stand a chance!"

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of cold light flashing in them. "That’s fine. I’ll wait."

Because this Gen-5 Cyborg was just a vessel—a remote extension of LORN’s consciousness. His real body hadn’t arrived yet. But it would. Sooner or later.

Just like Nightbane had once used a Ritual Array to complete the missing pieces of the stone tablet and summon the Undying.

"When my true form descends... that’ll be the day you die!" LORN spat, voice crackling with static.

"Oh?" Ethan raised an eyebrow, a thoughtful smirk tugging at his lips. "The Starborn Celestials’ crystal core... now that’s a flavor I haven’t tried yet."

"You—!"

LORN was so furious he could barely process the insult. He opened his mouth to retort, but his body gave out. The green glow in his eyes dimmed, flickered... and finally went dark.

With a heavy crash, his metal frame collapsed backward, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris.

...

That moment marked the end of the battle.

From a distance, Logan watched with glowing red eyes, a chill running down his spine.

"Damn... he’s terrifying. Good thing I never went up against him. If I had, I’d be the one lying in that crater."

"Yeah, and your wife made him a fur coat too," Rebar chimed in without thinking.

"..." Logan rolled his eyes. "Shut up and keep fighting. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go home."

"What, already missing your wife?" Rebar muttered bitterly. He wasn’t in any rush to go back.

With the tide turned, the American Zombie Horde began cleaning up the battlefield, wiping out the last of the Canadian undead.

Laura’s claws slashed through the air, while Sprout’s vines coiled and constricted, tearing the Vampire enforcer Darius limb from limb.

Bulldozer grabbed another Zombie King and, with a sickening twist, snapped his neck like a twig.

The battle had become a slaughter.

Malcolm’s face was pale, panic setting in as he looked around. Everywhere he turned, his forces were being butchered—his loyal Vampire elites among them.

"Scarlet Moon! Scarlet Moon! Think of something, dammit!"

In his desperation, he reached out with his neural link, trying to contact Sophia—his last hope, his final lifeline.

But no response came.

His heart sank.

"Don’t tell me... she’s dead too?"

Just then, the roar of engines split the air. A sleek aircraft shot up from the ground, rocketing into the sky.

"Huh?!"

Malcolm stared, dumbfounded. Through the cockpit window, he caught a glimpse of the pilot.

Sophia.

She was bailing.

Before he could even process the betrayal, a sharp, invisible force stabbed into his mind like a steel spike.

"AAARGH—!"

Malcolm screamed and crumpled to the ground, twitching in agony.

Behind him stood PhD, calm and composed, flanked by Mad Dog and T-Rex.

The two Zombie Kings looked up, watching the aircraft streak across the sky, leaving a glowing trail behind it.

"PhD, she ran again," T-Rex growled, his voice like gravel.

"Expected," PhD replied flatly, as if it were just another Tuesday.

T-Rex’s eyes gleamed. "I knew it. That escape route was always meant for the Vampire Race."

PhD nodded. "Exactly."

The rise of their corpse nest had two key architects—Nathan from Genesis Biotech... and Sophia. Those two were the real dream team.

Now, with Malcolm dead and Sophia gone, the war was over.

The battlefield was a wasteland—hell on earth. Corpses were piled like hills, blood pooling in rivers that ran through the cracks in the earth.

All around, American zombies crawled over the dead, prying open skulls and chests, digging out Neurocores and crystal cores to feast on.

The sound of bones snapping and flesh being torn echoed across the ruined land, a grotesque symphony of victory.

Above, the clouds had finally cleared, revealing a blood-red sunset. The light poured down in long, golden threads, casting an eerie glow over the devastated earth.

It was beautiful.

And terrifying.

...

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