In a particular bustling kingdom, the streets teemed with people clutching their magic phones, weaving through the crowd. Not far off, a group of workers comprised of both men and women alike labored fiercely on a rising structure. Some hauled massive poles by carriage, while others hammered, lifted, and pieced together the foundation with practiced rhythm.

Just beyond the construction stood a peculiar house, its roofing unlike anything nearby: glossy black glass streaked with neat white lines, forming an even grid. Someone from earth would've noticed the roofing as solar panels.

The house itself wasn't large, if anything, it looked temporary, and inside were only two rooms. The first was spacious, stocked with food supplies, tools, and scattered equipment. The second, at the back, was locked.

Within that locked room lounged a figure in an office chair. A blonde man, delicate-featured enough to be mistaken for a woman, sat behind a desk overflowing with strange gadgets. His hazel eyes, flecked faintly red, flicked over the mana-script glowing before him. One hand tapped lazily at a keyboard, while the other brushed thoughtfully against his sharp chin. On the glowing screen was a digital projection: the blueprint and live feed of the structure outside, every measurement precisely calculated.

He chuckled under his breath. "Oh, I see. Brilliant! Otherworlders really are exceptional… Good thing I'm the one pulling the strings now."

His laughter deepened but cut short as divine light suddenly flared in the room beside him. He scowled.

"You're enjoying yourself far too much… Moriel," a voice murmured from within the glow.

The man's frown sharpened. "I go by Genzai now. What cursed wind brought you here, Gabriel?"

The light faded, revealing a tall man with flowing golden hair, dressed in white robes and sandals. "Just checking in. I see you've taken an interest in the otherworlders I reincarnated myself."

Genzai's gaze hardened. "I'm a fallen. I do whatever I want. And you're not supposed to meddle with mortals. Why don't you do us both a favor and head back? Or has heaven finally gotten boring?"

Gabriel only smiled, shaking his head. "Curious, that's all. What's your endgame, Moriel? Targeting Asher Reynolds as your vessel, when you know why I reincarnated him here?"

"Oh, please…" Genzai leaned back in his chair, smirking. "The boy's soul is stronger than my current vessel's. Strong enough to merge with the Black One's power—and mine. Potential like that deserves testing. I'll give him trials, push him harder, make him worthy to host someone as strong as myself."

Gabriel stepped forward, hopping up to sit casually on the desk. "Is that why you toyed with the original Asher's soul? Creating a clone body of his past self just so he could fight the current one? He died a weakling. How's he suddenly throwing punches?"

Genzai chuckled. "You underestimate me, as always. I merged his soul and clone body with a powerful fallen blackcat folk. Added a few… extras. Now he's something worth watching."

Gabriel slid off the desk with a sigh. "Well, I've got prayers piling up. Don't ruin everything, Moriel. The current Asher Reynolds is stronger than you think—strong enough to kill a fallen god like you."

Genzai rolled his eyes. "What are you, my mother?"

"Goodbye… Moriel." Gabriel's form dissolved in another burst of divine light.

Clicking his tongue, Genzai sank back into his chair. "Stupid brat."

His right eye flickered, then flooded crimson like liquid blood. Closing it, he peered into the unfolding fight between Asher and the Double.

***

Meanwhile…

The Double smashed through Asher's front door from the inside, heading out where Asher was. It shifted mid-air into a sleek black cat before snapping back to human form with a punch aimed at Asher.

Their fists collided in midair, releasing a shockwave that shattered windows, rattled branches, and toppled frail trees.

Gasps filled the shattered house as everyone staggered back from the surge of raw energy.

The Double shrank into feline form again, darting beneath Asher, then grew back in an instant, swinging a fist straight at his groin. Reflexes saved him—he vaulted upward, barely dodging—but the grazing blow still sent sharp pain shooting through his family jewels.

Hovering above, Asher froze the ground below into slick ice. The Double slipped, losing balance. Asher summoned a scalpel from his item box, infused it with aura, and hurled it. The Double dodged easily, shifting into cat form again, but the scalpel was only bait.

Above its head, a thousand ice spears materialized, raining down like a storm.

The black cat hissed, claws flailing for balance, slashing through spears as it dodged. But in focusing on the barrage, it lost sight of Asher—who vanished, then descended like a meteor, pinning the creature down and pummeling it mercilessly.

"I don't know who you are," Asher growled, fists hammering down, "but if you're here to harm my family—I'll kill you where you stand!"

The ice cracked under his blows, but before he could finish, a shadow swallowed the Double, vanishing it from beneath him.

Asher scowled. Shadow teleportation— it can use catfolk magic?.

Sensing its reappearance, he lunged toward it, but a sudden crash split the air. From the side of the house came screams and chaos—Rose, Derrick, and the others locked in combat with grotesque creatures.

Zombies. Human-eating husks he had left walking atound at the Duke's mansion—here, now, in terrifying numbers.

His chest tightened as his eyes caught a familiar figure. A maid from Martinsville's mansion who was long dead, staggering forward in her blood-soaked dress. White eyes. Cracking limbs.

"What… the hell is happening?"

Screams ripped through nearby homes. A man next door lunged on his own daughter, biting into her as she shrieked, blood spraying.

Is this some kind of zombie apocalypse. That bastard in the lab who was making Mr Martinsville his vessel? What was he creating?

"Everyone! Don't let them bite you—they'll turn you into zombies!" Asher shouted.

But Anna's eyes widened in horror. "Honey, behind y—!"

CRUNCH.

Agony tore through Asher. The Double he thought he had killed was somehow still alive and had sunk its fangs into his flesh, blood spraying violently.

His vision blurred white, turning to a color of the attacking hoarde of zombies.

Divine protection? Why isn't it working?

The thought rang bitter as Asher felt his control on his own body slipping away, now about to get driven by the zombie instinct to kill humans, flowing through his veins.

TBC

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