Prime Ascendant

Chapter 5

He stood there for a moment, adrenaline still pulsing through him, the weight of the axe familiar in his hands. He was stronger now, faster too. The infected man would’ve overwhelmed him before. But now… now he could take their heads off. 

As gross as it looked...it felt good.

"Okay," he whispered to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I can do this."

The reality of the situation was becoming clear to him—this was his life now. Every encounter with the infected would be life or death. He couldn’t rely on his spatial blades for every fight, not with how much they drained him. The fire axe was a crude solution, but for now, it would do.

With the infected man dealt with, Marcus made his way toward the exit. Outside, the city was still in chaos, but he had a plan now. He needed to keep moving, find a way out of the city, and make his way back to his family. The fire axe swung by his side as he jogged down the street, carefully avoiding the groups of infected scattered along the way.

Marcus continued down the street, weaving through the chaos. Cars were overturned, some still smoldering, and the few survivors he saw were either sprinting or hiding. He clutched the fire axe in his hand, trying to stay alert. The tension in the air was palpable, and Marcus’s senses were on high alert. His mind raced, going over what supplies he still needed, how far the barricade was, and what lay ahead.

Just as he turned a corner, a group of five men emerged from an alley, blocking his path. They were rough-looking, armed with makeshift weapons—pipes, a bat, and one even had a machete. Their eyes locked onto Marcus, and it didn’t take long for them to focus on his backpack.

“Well, well,” the man in front sneered. He was tall, with a shaved head and tattoos running up his neck. “What do we have here? Looks like someone’s got themselves a good stash.”

Marcus’s heart began to race. His mind instantly went to his Aether. He discreetly checked it—40. He was relieved to see that it had regenerated, albeit slowly. It wasn’t fast enough for his liking, but it was something. Still, with five of them, he couldn’t take them all in a direct fight. 

As strong as Marcus was feeling, he knew the reality—he was outnumbered. And just because he had evolved didn’t mean others hadn’t as well. Worst of all, no amount of power would save him if that machete got too close.

“Look,” Marcus said, keeping his voice steady, masking his nervousness. “I don’t want any trouble. I’m just passing through.”

Tattoo Neck smirked and stepped forward, the others closing in behind him. “You’re carrying supplies, yeah? We’ll be taking those.”

Marcus tightened his grip on the fire axe, his eyes flicking between the men. He needed to think fast. “Tell you what,” he said, pointing the axe at the one who seemed like the leader—Tattoo Neck. “If you lot don’t back off, you’ll be the first to get a one way ticket to the Lord.” His tone was cool, almost casual, but there was a sharpness in his words. 

The gang members exchanged glances. A few chuckled nervously, but the leader wasn’t laughing. “Oh, tough guy, huh?” He grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think I’ll pass on the invite.” Without warning, he charged, the machete raised above his head.

Marcus didn’t wait. He focused, summoning his spatial blades. The shimmering, ethereal blades formed in his hands, and in one swift motion, he threw them. 

Tattoo Neck didn’t even have time to react. One moment he was rushing at Marcus, the next, his body was split cleanly in two, falling in halves to the ground. Blood splattered the pavement, and for a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence.

The rest of the gang stared in shock, eyes wide, their weapons lowering as they looked from Marcus to the bisected body of their leader. One of them dropped his pipe and took a step back.

“He’s…he’s a demon!” one of them stammered, his voice trembling. 

“Let’s get out of here!” another yelled. Without a second thought, the remaining four turned and bolted, disappearing down the alley, their footsteps echoing as they ran.

Marcus stood there, his chest heaving. His heart raced in his ears, and as he looked down at the two mangled halves of the man he’d just killed, the reality of what he’d done hit him like a sledgehammer.

His stomach churned. This was different—so much different than the zombies he’d killed. They were mindless, already gone, just shells of what had once been human. But this? This was a living, breathing person. Marcus felt the bile rising in his throat and before he could stop himself, he doubled over and vomited onto the pavement.

His whole body trembled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to steady his breathing. God…this isn’t like killing the undead. He thought about the man’s eyes, his rage, his intent to kill, but still...this was a human. 

But the world had changed. So he would have to change with it. Survival demanded more now. 

He glanced at his hands, still faintly trembling. Then, forcing himself to breathe deeper.

"If I have to kill a 100 fuckers to survive this shitty world then so be it."

Marcus slung the fire axe over his shoulder. His Aether levels flashed in the corner of his vision—26. He still had enough energy to defend himself if needed.

But now, there was a new kind of exhaustion pulling at him, one that no amount of rest could easily shake.

After several blocks, Marcus spotted a makeshift barricade up ahead. Cars were overturned, and debris had been piled up, creating a barrier across the road. On the other side, he could see a few survivors moving. All three of them armed with rifles, their eyes scanning the streets warily.

Marcus slowed his pace and approached cautiously. Survivors were just as dangerous as the infected at this point. Desperation made people unpredictable.

As he neared the barricade, one of the men pointed a gun in his direction. “Stop right there!” the man shouted, his voice sharp and commanding.

Marcus raised his hands, keeping the axe visible but not in a threatening way. “I’m just passing through,” he called out, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible. “I’m just looking for a way out of the city.”

The man, a grizzled figure with a heavy beard and sunken eyes, lowered his rifle slightly but didn’t take his eyes off Marcus. “You alone?”

“Yeah,” Marcus nodded. “Just me.”

The man glanced at the others behind the barricade, who seemed to be considering something. Finally, he gestured for Marcus to come closer. “Alright, come on over. But don’t try anything funny, or we’ll shoot you dead.”

Marcus nodded and cautiously made his way toward the barricade, keeping an eye on the group. He needed information, and these people might be his best shot at getting out of the city alive.