Got a space? Lucky bastard—but did that peach in it really turn Kael into some superhuman?
Even without a Superpower, he's probably stronger than any gym rat now!
"Strength's doubled, speed's cranked up, and my eyesight? Shit, I can see a bird's ass from a mile away."
Kael's voice is rough, no sugarcoating—just raw, unfiltered honesty.
"That's not nothing."
Elara's lips twitch into a faint, relieved smile.
"But keep the space under wraps. No Superpowers exist in Apocalypse's early days—wait a month or two before you yell you're a space-wielder. Got it?"
Kael grunts, short and sharp: "I know."
Elara glances outside.
The red fog's so thick now, visibility's down to tens of meters.
Damn it—this fog hit a day earlier than last life, spreading twice as fast.
Who knows what other messed-up surprises this timeline has?
But she's not panicking anymore.
Kael's safe. That's all that matters.
She flicks on the TV.
The signal sputters, every channel blabbing about the "natural red mist"—sure, sure, like the world won't turn to hell tomorrow.
Elara flicks it off.
No time for lies.
After a quick rest, she dives back into Superpower practice—she'd neglected it for two days, thanks to Kael's chaos.
Ten PM rolls around.
Elara wraps herself in a giant bubble, leaving a tiny vent, and crawls into bed.
No way she's letting mutant rats snack on her in her sleep!
Thank gods, the night passes without a hitch.
5:44 AM.
A howl—half wolf, half dog—rips through the silence.
Elara's eyes snap open.
Apocalypse is here.
She yanks on thick jeans, a white tee, and denim long sleeves, lacing up high-tops.
Her long hair's pulled into a tight ponytail, secured with a Superpower-forged hairpin.
She bathes with stored water, shovels down breakfast, and shoves all perishables into the fridge.
Water and electricity still work—but she's not dumb enough to use tap water now.
Grabbing a watermelon knife, she melts and sharpens the tip with her Superpower.
Locking the door behind her, she steps out.
Apocalypse just started—mutant pets are running wild.
She needs weapons, so she's not leaving the neighborhood today.
Across the street's a hardware and electronics mall—her target.
The villas are spaced 20 meters apart.
Elara walks west to east, spotting dark blood on the road, fresh stains on a villa's steps.
The door's smashed, but the house is silent as a grave.
She doesn't bother checking—time's too precious for heroics.
Rice-grain-sized bubbles drift around her, feeding back every rustle and creak.
She sees the carnage: bodies, torn furniture, the faint stench of death.
Suddenly, she swerves toward a villa.
The door's intact, but inside? Growls and the sickening sound of chewing.
This is a rich neighborhood—every family has fancy pets.
Now those pets are dinner for their owners.
Jaxon Hale slams his back against the bedroom door, piling dressers and beds to block it.
He collapses to the floor, clutching a kitchen knife, his face ashen.
Why'd Heizi—his sweet, docile dog—turn into a monster?
Twice the size, eyes wild with rage?
His parents died protecting him: one's spine snapped by a paw, the other's throat torn out.
He'd scrambled into the bedroom, but the chewing sounds are so loud, it's like the beast's right outside.
Next up is him.
He'll be Heizi's next meal.
The chewing stops.
Footsteps pad toward the door.
Jaxon's breath hitches, his knife trembling in his hands.
He stares at the door, eyes bulging, as if staring down death itself.
Boom!
The door warps under the impact—thank god for the furniture barricade.
Ow~
Heizi howls, slamming into it again.
Crash!
The door shatters.
The bed splinters, the wardrobe tipping over with a thunderous bang.
"Ah! Don't come near me! Stay away!"
Jaxon leaps up, swinging the knife blindly, eyes squeezed shut.
A gust of fishy wind hits.
Jaxon goes limp—this is it.
"Huh. Pathetic."
A cold voice cuts through the chaos.
Jaxon blinks open his eyes.
Standing in the doorway is a girl—seventeen, maybe eighteen—slim, pale, with icy eyes and black hair tied back.
Her denim outfit's plain, but her aura? Sharp as a blade.
And in her right hand? A bloody watermelon knife, droplets of red dripping onto the floor.
Heizi, the monster that killed his parents, lies at her feet—throat slit wide open, dead as a doornail.
Jaxon stares, dumbfounded.
Is she an angel? A demon?
Elara doesn't spare him a glance.
She squats by Heizi's head, blocking Jaxon's view, and stabs the knife into the beast's skull.
With a flick, she yanks out a diamond-shaped, blood-red Beast Core, shoving it into her pocket.
Then she turns and walks out, like she didn't just save a stranger's life.
Jaxon snaps out of his trance, scrambling to follow.
He keeps five meters back—something about her makes him think she'd slit his throat without blinking.
Elara knows he's there.
She doesn't care.
Surviving Apocalypse alone is impossible.
Maybe building a team isn't such a bad idea—for Kael's sake, if nothing else.
"Meow!"
A snow-white cat—now the size of a sheepdog—lunges from the shadows.
Jaxon yells, but Elara flips backward, slashing the knife.
The cat twists mid-air, landing with a snarl, its claws glinting like steel.
"Stay back—one swipe and it'll tear you apart," Elara says flatly, never taking her eyes off the beast.
Jaxon's jaw tightens.
"You saved me. I'm not leaving you."
Elara raises an eyebrow.
"I don't need dead weight—especially not from a man."
"I get it." His voice is hoarse.
"But I'm not dead weight."
"Elara Voss," she says.
"Jaxon Hale."
They nod, locking eyes with the cat.
"Hit its belly, neck, eyes. Avoid the claws and jaws."
Elara charges first.
Jaxon follows, screaming as he swings the knife.
The cat ignores Jaxon, fixated on Elara.
She ducks, slashing its throat.
The cat yowls, crashing into Jaxon—who drives the knife into its eyes.
It drops, twitching.
Jaxon stares at his bloodied hands, then at Elara as she pried out the Beast Core.
Relief washes over him—he wasn't useless.
"Check that house," Elara says, sending him to loot while she collects the core.
By dusk, they'd raided half the villas, gathering food, water, gold, and jewelry.
Jaxon found a Land Rover key, and they loaded everything inside.
Every mutated pet they encountered fell to Elara's blade—Jaxon charged in anyway, targeting weak spots.
He learned fast.
When they reached the mall, Elara's bubbles detected no signs of life—just silence.
"Stick to the plan: grab steel nails, then go." She said.
"And Jaxon—keep your eyes open. Rats, roaches, spiders—anything could be mutated. They're deadlier than pets."
Jaxon paled.
"Right. No heroes today."
They entered cautiously.
The mall was empty, the security guard's body nowhere to be found.
Elara headed for the fifth floor—nails.
On the third floor, a crash echoed.
Jaxon tensed. "Who's there?"
Elara's bubbles zeroed in on a counter.
"Come out. Or I'll make you."
A woman stumbled out, trembling.
"Jaxon? Is that really you?"
It was Chen Na—Jaxon's ex-girlfriend.
She threw herself at him, sobbing. "I'm so scared! That rat— it bit through my uncle's neck!"
Elara's gaze flicked to the hickeys on Chen Na's neck.
She smiled coldly. "Rats did that? Must've taken a fancy to you. Your uncle's dead, but you're unscathed."
Chen Na paled, covering her neck.
Jaxon yanked her shirt down, revealing more marks.
"You lying bitch!" He backhanded her.
"It's not rats—you're a cheat!"
Elara turned and walked away.
Jaxon followed, spitting in disgust.
By nightfall, they reached the mall's fifth floor.
Jaxon stuffed a burlap sack with steel nails—top-grade, sharp as razors.
"Enough?" he asked.
Elara shook her head, grabbing another sack.
"We'll need more."
As they headed down, Chen Na was gone.
Good—one less problem.
Outside, the Land Rover roared to life.
Elara stared at the road ahead, her resolve hardening.
Kael was waiting.
And she'd fight through hell to get to him.
Next Chapter Teaser
Mutant rats swarm the mall—hundreds of them, hungry for flesh!
Elara's Superpower is pushed to the limit, but Kael's obsession blinds him—he's tracking her, convinced she's with another man.
When their paths collide, will it be a rescue… or a fight fueled by jealousy?
Plus: The first Superpowered Beast Core is up for grabs—who'll claim it, and what dark secret does the mall hide?