Apocalypse Baby

Her metal blades floated around her, shifting and striking in perfect sync with her movements—

A dance of steel and death.

She slashed—he dodged.

She parried—he countered.

Each strike came faster. Harder. Sharper.

Dorion dodged, his body weaving through the storm of blades.

But not fast enough.

SLASH!

SLASH!

Nancy's attacks landed, cutting into his arms, legs, and torso.

Yet, each time he took a hit…

He recovered.

And with every recovery—He got stronger.

Faster.

More feral.

Nancy gritted her teeth.

Then, before she could react—Dorion lunged.

His jaws were wide, fangs bared.

He was going for her throat.

Nancy's eyes widened.

But at the last second—She reacted.

SHNK!

A metal sheet coiled around his leg and yanked him backward.

SLAM!

Dorion's body was ripped away from her, crashing into the ground.

But Nancy didn't stop there.

With a sharp motion, her floating blades converged.

WHOOSH!

WHOOSH!

Multiple sheets of metal stabbed into Dorion, pinning him down.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, more blades merged together—forming a steel mask that clamped over his face.

Dorion thrashed, snarling behind the metal.

But Nancy wasn't taking any chances.

She clenched her fist.

And the metallic helmet tightened around Dorion's head.

CLANK!

The steel constricted, pressing against his skull.

Dorion's eyes bulged.

He clawed at the metal, fingers scraping desperately against its smooth surface.

But it was too tight. Too strong.

His breath hitched.

His lungs screamed for air.

He staggered back, his body fighting against the suffocating grip, but his strength was slipping.

His legs buckled.

Then he collapsed to the ground, gasping. Struggling. Dying.

Nancy stepped forward, her jaw clenched.

One more squeeze.

That was all it would take.

The helmet would crush his skull. End him.

Her fingers twitched—ready to give the final command.

Then—Dorothy's voice pierced through.

"STOP!"

She turned her sharp gaze to Dorothy, eyes filled with confusion.

But her grip on the metal didn't loosen.

"Don't kill him."

Nancy's brows furrowed.

She studied Dorothy, trying to make sense of her words.

This was a monster.

He had lunged at them like a rabid beast. He had tried to tear them apart.

And yet—Dorothy wanted to save him?

"Why?" Nancy demanded, her voice edged with disbelief.

Dorothy didn't hesitate.

"I can help him."

Nancy's confusion only deepened.

Her eyes flickered between Dorothy and the struggling beast.

Help...How?

Dorion was barely human anymore. His body had warped. Twisted.

It didn't look like there was nothing left to save.

Nancy tightened her stance. "He just tried to kill you, Dorothy." Her voice was cold, but not without concern. "He is not human."

Dorothy stepped forward, her voice urgent.

"He will be. I made preparations."

Nancy narrowed her eyes. Preparations?

What preparation was she talking about?

Nancy's mind raced. Dorothy spoke with urgency, her expression unwavering.

Did she really believe she could save him?

Nancy didn't understand, but one thing was clear—Dorothy was serious.

"Hurry, or he'll die!" Dorothy urged.

Nancy gritted her teeth.

She had no reason to trust whatever Dorothy was planning, but at the same time, someone's life was slipping away.

"Alright."

She relented, the tension in her arms loosening.

With a swift motion, she dismantled the metal constricting Dorion's face.

Dorothy didn't waste a second.

She hurried forward.

Nancy's eyes widened.

"Wait—seriously, be careful!" She stepped in after her, keeping a firm grip on her weapons.

And then, Dorothy knelt, right beside Dorion.

No hesitation. No fear.

Nancy's heart pounded.

Did she truly believe Dorion wouldn't attack her?

Or...

Did she trust that I wouldn't let it happen?

Dorothy then reached into her storage and pulled out five small kegs.

Nancy's eyes narrowed.

Where did those come from?

Each keg was filled to the brim with some kind of thick liquid.

Nancy had a bad feeling.

"What's that?" she asked, already dreading the answer.

Dorothy didn't hesitate. "Blood."

Nancy froze.

"...Bloo—What?"

Her stomach churned. She took an uneasy step back, staring at the kegs in disbelief.

Dorothy, however, remained calm. Too calm.

She acted as if having multiple kegs of blood was completely normal.

Nancy clenched her jaw.

"Okay, Dorothy, you seriously need to explain. Why do you have kegs of blood? And more importantly—where did you even get them?"

Dorothy's eyes lit up with excitement as she explained, "If he drinks blood, he'll be fine!"

Nancy's frown deepened.

"And where did you even get that much blood?" she asked.

Dorothy shrugged as if it were obvious. "From our hunts. When the beasts were butchered, I stored the blood."

Nancy stared at her, completely lost.

How did she even think to store blood?And more importantly, how was she so sure this would work?

But before Nancy could question further, Dorothy had already pried Dorion's mouth open.

Then she poured.

One keg.

Then another.

And another.

Nancy stood by, watching with a mix of confusion and caution, her body tense, ready to react if something went wrong.

Then—slowly—Dorion's body began to change.

His body twisted and shrank, the sinewy beast-like form melting away. His claws retracted, his breath steadied, and the wild madness in his eyes dimmed.

In mere moments, he looked human again.

Nancy exhaled sharply, her grip still firm on her weapon.

She turned to Dorothy, eyes narrowed. "Alright, you need to start explaining. Right now."

Dorothy met her gaze, her expression eerily calm. Then, in a steady voice, she said:

"The third."

Nancy blinked. "The third? What are you talking about?"

Dorothy didn't answer immediately. Instead, she took a slow breath before speaking again.

"He's the third."

Nancy felt a chill creep up her spine. "The third what?"

Dorothy's lips parted, and when she spoke, it was low and deliberate—as if reciting something ancient, something foretold.

"The Seer, the Charmer, the Blood-Hungry, and the Anomaly... Three more to go."

Nancy's brow furrowed, confusion twisting her expression.

"What... What are you saying?"

Before she could react, Dorothy grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her excitedly.

"It's all coming together, Nancy!"

Dorothy's eyes sparkled with a strange enthusiasm, her voice breathless.

Nancy's frown deepened. "What is?!"

None of this made sense.

Dorothy didn't seem to notice Nancy's confusion.

Instead, she grinned—a wide, knowing grin—as if she had just uncovered the final piece of a puzzle.

Then, with unwavering certainty, she said:

"The Seven Heroes."