Apocalypse Gachapon

“Why not?”

Ahmad smiled, watching the busy Thousand Defender beside him, and repeated, “Go. Do it.”

Suhail bowed in deference, then turned and leaped straight down from the palace. Mid-fall, a pair of wings suddenly unfurled from his back, allowing him to glide. With a few powerful flaps, he soared into the distance.

“I’ve actually been tempted to test whether we could crush those Easterners outside with just the forces we currently have on hand. But at my age, I’m past the point of reckless pride. Forget it. You lot have stayed by my side for many years—I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

At these words, those nearby bowed to their king, expressing reverence and gratitude.

“But I am the ruler of this city. I cannot allow those who just struck us to grow too arrogant. At the same time, my little prince has grown up. He’s no longer the child who only knew how to indulge in debauchery. He needs to prove his worth with real action—so that when the time comes, my throne can pass smoothly to him.”

As he spoke, his previously unfocused gaze sharpened abruptly, sweeping over the faces of those below him, capturing every fleeting expression.

Whether it was delight, suspicion, surprise, or something else—everyone stiffened under that gaze, quickly replacing their reactions with submission.

Ahmad’s eyes turned icy. He said nothing more. No one could tell whether his words were sincere or not.

“Your Highness.”

Suhail landed at a camp not far from the City Lord’s residence. Unlike the rest of the Holy City, this place resembled an ancient sacrificial platform, elevated high above the ground.

Standing atop the platform, Suhail glanced at the many objects concealed beneath sand-colored tarps before entering a brightly lit building in the corner.

Even before stepping inside, the pungent stench of alcohol and the sound of raucous laughter assaulted his senses.

He sighed inwardly. At the same time, he felt a flicker of relief—this was the apocalypse. The old City Lord could live for many, many more years. Otherwise, a successor like this would truly sap any desire for loyalty. This prince wasn’t even as competent as the late Crown Prince, whose ambitions had far outstripped his abilities.

“Your Highness, I bring His Majesty’s orders.” No matter his private thoughts, Suhail maintained perfect deference. He didn’t enter the room, choosing to announce himself from outside.

“Enter.”

A voice laced with characteristic effeminacy summoned him inside. Suhail stepped forward, surveying the vast hall. The young prince lounged on a raised seat, flanked by four voluptuous, scantily clad women feeding him wine and delicacies. Below him, several of the prince’s friends—scions of Holy City nobility—mimicked his decadence.

This is a critical weapons depot, yet the person in charge is behaving in this manner? And with the enemy at our gates!

True, everyone was confident they could repel the invaders. But the saying “castles crumble from within” held true in any era. Though Gyanendra was gone, remnants of his faction still lurked. What if they sabotaged these powerful yet fragile weapons?

Masking his disdain, Suhail relayed the orders.

The young prince shoved the women aside, his face twisting with an unmistakable emotion.

Not impatience—contempt.

“Tell the King I’ll teach those outsiders a lesson immediately. What the air force failed to do, I can accomplish.”

With that, he strode out, robes hanging open.

Two maids—drunk on liquor specially brewed for evolved—giggled and clung to him, begging him to stay. Though only level-one evolved, they were intoxicated enough to be reckless.

“So reluctant to let me go?” The prince chuckled. Then, without warning, his hands snapped around their throats. “Then fight for the Holy City with me.”

As the women shrieked, he dragged them outside, positioning them amidst the covered objects. His eyes darkened to a bloody crimson before a surge of energy erupted from his body, blasting away the tarps and revealing what lay beneath.

Even though Suhail had seen these things before, they still unnerved him. He bowed and took his leave, flying back toward the palace.

The prince paid him no mind. He was in a trance-like state. Yanking one struggling woman to his mouth, he sank his teeth into her neck. After a few seconds of violent convulsions, she went limp. The other met the same fate mid-scream.

Having drained both women, the prince hurled their corpses skyward. At the peak of their arc, the bodies exploded, raining down flesh and blood onto the now-uncovered machines.

At a glance, they were grotesque contraptions—their metallic surfaces glinting ominously under the flares.

Four thick wheels and armored plating formed a crude but sturdy chassis. Above it sat elongated, monstrous structures fused to the base.

A closer look revealed why Suhail found them unsettling.

Because sections of those structures were unmistakably human skin—pale, shriveled, dotted with age spots and scars.

The front ends of these abominations now slowly rose, revealing… gigantic human heads, several times larger than normal.

Their skin was ancient, their faces withered—some white-haired and wrinkled, others bald with hollow, lidless eye sockets and gaping, toothless mouths.

But as the blood and flesh showered down, the machines seemed to awaken. Their skin regained vitality. Even the desiccated heads began to rejuvenate.

“I love you all… but not how much you eat.” The prince murmured, stretching his hands toward the void. Dark veins bulged across his arms as crimson tendrils of energy linked him to the machines—grotesque hybrids of bisected human torsos welded to metal pillars.

As time passed, the machines grew “younger,” while the prince aged rapidly.

“Seems it’s time to change your skins. You’re too gluttonous.”

By the time the prince had morphed from a youth into a middle-aged man, the machines brimmed with vigor. Their heads now looked fully alive—until their lips stretched into horrifying grins, jaws unhinging to grotesque widths.

The machines rocked forward, their gaping maws aligning toward the city walls. With a sound like retching, they expelled massive, pale-gray orbs that drifted sluggishly beyond the walls.