I fell.
The pit was deeper than it had any right to be—a wound in reality that extended far beyond the physical earth. As I descended, the corrupted walls gave way to something else. Something that existed in the spaces between dimensions.
The entity's true realm.
I could see it now. Not just glimpses through cracks in the sky, but the full scope of what I was fighting. An infinite expanse of writhing darkness. Consciousnesses beyond counting, all part of the same terrible whole. And at the center—
Something that made the form I'd seen above look like a shadow.
YOU COME TO ME, the entity's voice was everywhere. AFTER ALL THESE MILLENNIA. AFTER ALL YOUR FAILURES. YOU COME TO THE HEART OF MY POWER.
"I come to end this."
SO MANY HAVE SAID. SO MANY HAVE FAILED.
The anchor appeared below me—crystalline and massive, pulsing with the light of a dying star. It wasn't just connecting the entity to our world anymore. It was becoming a permanent part of our reality. Roots of crystal spreading through the dimensional membrane like cancer through healthy tissue.
The manifestation was almost complete.
I had minutes. Maybe less.
------------------------------
I landed on the anchor itself.
The crystal was warm beneath my feet. Alive in a way that matter shouldn't be alive. I could feel the entity's essence flowing through it—billions of years of hunger and patience and terrible, inevitable purpose.
And I could feel the weak point.
The first Zombie King's memories showed me where to strike. A flaw in the anchor's structure—not physical, but conceptual. A crack in the foundation of the entity's connection to our reality.
If I poured everything I had into that crack, I could shatter the anchor.
Push the entity back.
Buy humanity another ten thousand years.
That is what the others did, the first Zombie King's voice whispered. Every iteration. Every loop. We found the weak point. We struck. We pushed the entity back. And then we died, and it all began again.
"There has to be another way."
There is. But the cost—
"Tell me."
------------------------------
The entity's attention focused on me fully now.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING, VESSEL? WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING?
Its presence pressed down like a physical weight. Tentacles of darkness reached for me from the surrounding void. Servants materialized from nothing, converging on my position.
I raised a barrier of necromantic power—the first Zombie King's accumulated strength holding back the tide.
Barely.
Tell me, I demanded again.
The memories shifted. Unlocked. Revealed something the first Zombie King had discovered in his final iteration—the one before he'd split his soul.
A choice.
The anchor doesn't just connect the entity to our reality, he explained. It connects all the timelines. All the loops. It's the thread that holds the cycle together. If you destroy it the normal way, you sever that thread temporarily. The entity retreats. The cycle continues.
"And if I destroy it differently?"
You can burn the thread entirely. Sever all connections. Not just push the entity back—trap it in its own dimension permanently. End the cycle forever.
My heart—cold as it was—skipped.
"How?"
The power I gave you. Ten thousand years of accumulated strength. It's not just necromantic energy—it's part of the timeline itself. Part of the cycle. If you pour all of it into the anchor... you destroy not just the crystal, but the concept it represents. The entity loses its ability to ever reach our reality again.
"And the cost?"
Silence.
Then, quietly: Everything. The power will be gone. The memories will be gone. You'll be... ordinary. Human. Mortal. Whatever made you the Zombie King will cease to exist.
------------------------------
I understood now.
The choice Maya had seen.
Option one: Destroy the anchor normally. Keep my power. Keep being the Zombie King. Push the entity back for another ten thousand years—but the cycle continues. Eventually, it tries again. Eventually, another version of me faces this same moment.
Option two: Burn everything. End the cycle permanently. Save humanity forever—but lose everything that made me capable of doing it.
YOU SEE IT, the entity said. YOU SEE THE TRAP. EITHER WAY, I WIN. IF YOU PUSH ME BACK, I RETURN. IF YOU DESTROY YOURSELF, HUMANITY LOSES ITS PROTECTOR.
"You're wrong."
AM I?
"Humanity doesn't need a Zombie King."
I looked at my hands. At the power flowing through them—ten thousand years of sacrifice and struggle and desperate hope.
The first Zombie King had fought alone. Every iteration. Every loop. He'd accumulated power because he believed he was the only one who could stop the entity. The only one who mattered.
But that wasn't true anymore.
I had Drake, whose fire burned with protective fury.
I had Sarah and Marcus, who fought despite their fear.
I had Rachel and Morgan, who'd devoted their lives to this battle.
I had Maya, who saw futures and chose to believe in the best ones.
I had Ghost, who reminded me to stay human.
I had Min-Tong, who loved me despite what I'd become.
Humanity didn't need a god to protect them.
They needed a chance.
------------------------------
Wei.
Min-Tong's voice again, reaching across dimensions.
Something's happening. I can feel it. You're about to do something.
"I am."
Tell me.
I closed my eyes. Reached through our connection—not the network, but something deeper. The bond between two people who'd found each other across the apocalypse.
"I can end this. Permanently. But I'll lose... everything that made me the Zombie King."
Silence. Then: You'll be human again?
"If I survive. I might not survive."
Wei—
"I need you to understand. If I do this, I won't be able to protect anyone anymore. The zombies will be free. The power will be gone. I'll just be a man."
More silence. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion.
You were always just a man. Everything else was what you carried. Not what you were.
"Min-Tong—"
Do it. End the cycle. Come back to me. Whatever you are when this is over—I'll be here.
I felt tears on my face.
I hadn't thought I could still cry.
------------------------------
The entity sensed my decision.
NO, it screamed. STOP. WHAT ARE YOU—
"You don't control me."
I gathered everything.
Every fragment of the first Zombie King's power. Every memory of every lifetime. Every death, every failure, every moment of hope crushed by ancient inevitability.
And every connection.
Every mind in my network—fifteen thousand zombies, two Elites, three hundred mutants—all of them lit up with purpose. Not my purpose. Their purpose. The purpose of creatures who had been given a second chance at something like life.
GO, I sent to Vanguard. LEAD THEM. PROTECT THE LIVING. THIS IS YOUR CHARGE NOW.
Master—
I'm not your master anymore. I'm setting you free. All of you.
The connection began to strain. To stretch. To burn.
------------------------------
I turned to the anchor.
To the weak point.
To the thread that held the cycle together.
"Ten thousand years," I said. "Ten thousand years of fighting. Of dying. Of starting over."
The entity's presence crashed against my barrier. Tentacles of darkness pierced through, reaching for me, trying to stop what I was about to do.
"But it ends now."
I slammed my hands against the crystal.
And poured everything into it.
------------------------------
The sensation was indescribable.
Power that had accumulated across millennia—flowing out of me like blood from an opened vein. The first Zombie King's memories burned away one by one. Civilizations I'd witnessed. People I'd loved. Skills I'd mastered over a hundred lifetimes.
Gone.
The network connections snapped. Fifteen thousand minds that had been part of me suddenly became separate. Independent. Free.
Gone.
The necromantic aura that had defined me since I'd woken up seven days ago—that cold, deathly presence that let me command the dead—flickered.
Faded.
Gone.
------------------------------
The entity screamed.
Not with sound—with something beyond sound. A psychic howl of rage and disbelief that echoed across dimensions.
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
The anchor cracked.
Not just physically. The concept it represented—the connection between realities, the thread of the cycle, the entity's grip on our dimension—shattered.
NO. NO. THIS CANNOT BE. I AM ETERNAL. I AM INEVITABLE. I AM—
The cracks spread. Through the anchor. Through the entity's realm. Through the spaces between worlds.
VESSEL. WEI. PLEASE. DON'T DO THIS. WITHOUT MY POWER, YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU WILL DIE ALONE IN THE DARK. YOU WILL—
"Maybe."
I watched my hands. Normal hands now. Human hands. The amber glow in my eyes was fading—I could feel it—becoming ordinary brown again.
"But so will you."
------------------------------
The anchor exploded.
Not with fire or force—with absence. A void of meaning that consumed everything the entity had built. The crystal disintegrated. The dimensional gateway collapsed. The entity's realm began to pull away, dragged back to wherever it had come from by forces beyond comprehension.
THIS IS NOT THE END, the entity howled. I WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY. ANOTHER CYCLE. ANOTHER—
"No."
I stood at the center of the collapse. Powerless now. Just a man.
But somehow, I knew.
"The thread is burned. The cycle is broken. You're trapped in your own dimension forever."
...no...
"Ten thousand years of accumulated power. That's what it cost. That's what it took." I smiled—a human smile, tired and triumphant and utterly mortal. "Worth every second."
The entity's presence faded.
Not retreating this time.
Dying.
At least in any way that mattered to our reality.
------------------------------
The pit began to collapse.
Without the entity's influence, the dimensional wound healed rapidly. The corrupted walls crumbled inward. The spaces between realities sealed themselves shut.
And I was still at the bottom.
Too weak to climb.
Too human to survive.
Wei!
Min-Tong's voice—distant now. Our bond had been severed with everything else.
Wei, what's happening? I can't feel you anymore. Wei!
I looked up. Miles of collapsing pit between me and the surface. No power left. No network. No zombies to carry me.
Just a man.
In a hole.
About to be crushed.
I laughed.
It was ridiculous, really. Save the world, defeat an elder god, break an eternal cycle—and die because I couldn't climb fast enough.
Typical, I thought. Ten thousand years of planning and I forgot to arrange a ride home.
Something wrapped around my waist.
Something massive and furry and very, very fast.
I looked up into Ursa's eyes.
Not yet, the former Tier 2 sent. His voice was different now—independent, self-directed, no longer bound by my will. But the loyalty remained. You freed us. We're not letting you die.
He launched upward.