Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 155: Bad Choices [3]
With a sudden burst of power, Alex tore through the vines that had been binding him. The thick, green restraints exploded outward, shredded into pieces that fluttered to the ground like dying leaves.
A stunned silence washed over the players.
Ella’s eyes widened in disbelief, her heart pounding.
That shouldn’t have been possible.
Her vines weren’t just meant to hold him—they were laced with sharp spikes, meant to tear into his flesh and grind his body into pulp. But instead of blood, they had met something unbreakable.
A skill.
A defensive skill.
Ella stiffened, her mind racing.
Didn’t he run out of mana?
That explosion from earlier—it should have drained him completely. But if he was still standing, did that mean his mana regeneration was insanely fast?
Or worse—had he already recovered?
If that was the case, they stood no chance.
She swallowed hard, hoping for the former.
Alex let out a slow exhale, his muscles relaxing as he deactivated [Aegis Arcane]. A faint glow faded from his skin, the protective barrier dispersing.
He rolled his shoulders, stretching out his arms like someone waking up from a nap.
"There goes the mana I recovered," he muttered to himself.
His Danger Sense had warned him just in time. If he hadn’t reacted, those vines would have shredded him apart. Using his last bit of mana to shield himself was the right call.
His eyes lifted, gaze sweeping over the stunned players.
Alex’s gaze hardened as he locked eyes with Ella.
Cold. Unforgiving. Merciless.
She didn’t hesitate to turn on him.
But too bad for her—she picked the wrong person to mess with.
He took a slow step forward, his movements deliberate.
Thud
The sound of his foot hitting the ground sent a ripple of unease through the group.
Instinctively, they stepped back.
Even Ezekiel.
Alex chuckled, low and sharp.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" His voice carried through the silence like a blade slicing the tension. "Weren’t you going to kill me?"
No one moved.
Ezekiel’s jaw tightened, his fingers twitching over the hilt of his sword.
Alex’s smirk widened. "Is your resolve this weak?" His voice was mocking now, taunting. "Freedom is right in front of you, and you’re too scared to take it. Seriously… what a pathetic bunch."
That last line stabbed right into Ezekiel’s pride.
His teeth clenched as anger flooded through him, his grip on his sword tightening.
Enough.
With a sharp inhale, he stepped forward—ready to strike.
But Alex was faster.
In a blink, he was gone.
Before Ezekiel could even process what happened, Alex was already in front of him—his movement a blur, his fist pulled back, ready to strike.
Ezekiel’s eyes widened in disbelief and horror.
It was too late.
He hadn’t even seen the punch coming.
BOOM!
Instinct kicked in.
Ezekiel barely had time to raise his shield, bracing for impact.
The moment Alex’s fist connected a deafening shockwave exploded through the air.
His entire body was lifted off the ground.
His shield bent inward, the once-sturdy metal caving like paper under the sheer force of the blow.
Pain ripped through his arm.
His shoulder twisted unnaturally—dislocated.
He was flying.
The world spun violently, sky and ground flipping over and over as he tumbled.
Then...
CRASH!
His body slammed into the wall.
The impact rattled his bones, a sharp burst of pain radiating from every nerve.
His head slumped forward, blood dripping from his lips.
His arms and legs were numb.
It felt like he had just been hit by a truck.
Reality sank in.
They had made a mistake. A huge one.
There was no way they could defeat Alex.
Run!
Ezekiel wanted to scream it—warn them.
But no words came out.
His throat was dry. His chest ached. Fear choked him silent.
The other players stood frozen, their eyes locked on Ezekiel’s crumpled body against the wall.
Then, slowly Alex turned toward them.
His gaze was sharp, cold, merciless.
"Last warning."
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His voice was calm, yet filled with finality.
"Leave now… and you won’t have to die."
There was a brief silence.
But then...
"Don’t be a fool!" Kieran snapped, his voice strained with desperation. "None of us is making it out of this damn place. This is the best choice!"
The players hesitated.
Their grips tightened on their weapons.
But no one lowered them.
Alex sighed. A slow, tired exhale.
"Alright then..."
Step.
Alex began to walk forward.
Each step echoed through the room.
His expression darkened.
His presence felt heavier—more suffocating.
"Who’s next?"
Kieran’s fingers tightened around his sword.
His teeth dug into his lip, as if biting back fear—forcing himself to act.
Then—
With a loud cry, he charged!
The others followed, yelling, weapons raised.
But Alex didn’t even flinch.
This wasn’t a battle.
It was a rabbit throwing itself at a tiger.
Kieran lunged first, swinging his sword with all his strength.
But his blade sliced through nothing but air.
Alex was already gone.
SWISH
SWISH
Kieran barely registered what happened.
Then—he felt it.
A strange lightness in his body.
His vision blurred.
His mind screamed at him to move.
But something was wrong.
He turned his head—and that’s when his body fell apart.
Shredded.
Split clean.
His mouth opened to speak, but no words came.
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He was already dead.
A notification flashed before Alex’s eyes. One down.
But he wasn’t done.
Alex moved like a ghost, slipping between them, his blade flashing like lightning.
More bodies dropped.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Each step, each swing, each kill—flawless.
By the time the survivors realized what was happening, it was already over.
The remaining players stood frozen.
Their weapons shook in their hands.
What they just witnessed was horrific.
They thought Alex was dangerous before—but this?
Even without using his explosive abilities, he was still a monster.
Charging him head-on was suicide.
Alex exhaled, flicking his wrist.
Blood sprayed off his blade.
His sharp eyes scanned the terrified faces before him.
"Why?" His voice was calm, almost mocking.
"You’re not coming at me?"
Silence.
Not a single one dared to step forward.
Alex’s lips curled into a smirk.
"Then I’ll come to you instead."
He stepped forward—
THWIP!
Vines lashed out, coiling around his leg.
His movement stopped instantly.
Again.
This girl.
Alex’s gaze snapped to Ella.
She stood tall, her staff raised, her expression hardened.
"Come together, everyone!" she yelled. "So he doesn’t pick us off one by one!"
Alex reacted instantly.
His blade flashed as he sliced through the vine wrapped around his leg.
But before he could move...
BOOM!
A fireball exploded against the ground where he stood.
BOOM! BOOM!
More came, raining down like meteors, scorching the air around him.
Alex dodged, weaving through the chaos, his body a blur of motion.
Then—he shot out of the smoke, unscathed.
His sharp eyes locked onto a new figure—another mage.
Figures.
They were teaming up.
Ella and the mage kept up the relentless barrage, trying to pin him down.
But Alex had already made his decision.
He’d pick them off first.
Moving with calculated precision, he weaved through fireballs and vine whips, getting closer, step by step.
Then...
"Wait… please don’t kill me!"
A young woman, one of the players, dropped her weapon, tears spilling down her face.
She trembled, pleading for her life.
But Alex’s gaze didn’t waver.
SLASH.
A clean, merciless cut.
Her body collapsed to the ground.
No hesitation.
He had warned them. Given them a choice.
They refused to listen.
Mercy was no longer an option.
An arrow shot through the air, aiming straight for him.
Alex’s hand snapped up and the arrow froze mid-flight.
Suspended.
Hanging in the air like time itself had stopped.
His eyes glowed faintly.
[Minor Telekinesis]
Alex smirked, tilting his head.
Then, with a flick of his wrist—
The arrow reversed course, firing straight back at the archer.
