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Hour 6, Part 2.

  Chapter 72 — Hour 6

  Prince of Hell.

  The building exploded.

  Just. Exploded.

  No warning, no shout, no setup—just sky, fire, and screaming wood.

  Zoya hit the ground. Stellan screamed something useless. Grim vanished under the rubble. Mateus landed on his back like a broken plank.

  Smoke everywhere. Ears ringing.

  And then—

  Grim stood. Already standing. Already pissed. His hand around someone’s neck. Slamming them into the debris. Lifting them off the ground like a bag of meat.

  Nobody saw it happen.

  But it was happening.

  The guy choked, kicked, flailed. Didn’t matter. Grim’s eyes were gone. Just static. His mouth was pulled in this crooked, silent snarl. His knuckles white.

  “Grim?!” Zoya coughed.

  “Who the hell—” Mateus staggered forward.

  The guy gasped, “I’m—!”

  Grim didn’t let go.

  Stellan: “Hey, uh, when did this start?!”

  “I DON’T KNOW.” Zoya was dragging herself out of the dirt. “GRIM, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  Grim didn't answer.

  Didn’t blink.

  Didn’t breathe.

  The guy was halfway to dead.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Then—

  The shadow hit.

  Loomed first. Blocked the sun like some divine swat team was inbound.

  Everyone looked up.

  Stellan: “...What the—”

  And then the thing landed.

  Right on Grim.

  Full-body crash. Dust up. Grim slammed to the ground, wheezing like a stabbed accordion.

  The hostage dropped. Hit the floor, gasped, started crying.

  On top of Grim, crouched, calm, hand on his knee—

  Mika.

  The smile. The pose. The sheer anime-level arrogance.

  “You can’t just kill people,” he said.

  Grim: “I WASN’T GONNA KILL HIM—”

  “You were definitely gonna kill him.”

  Grim coughed. “He looked suspicious.”

  Mateus: “That’s not—okay?”

  Zoya looked around. “Did we all just get blown up?!?”

  The hostage nodded, eyes wide. “They blew up the building.”

  “Who’s they?” Grim growled, shoving Mika off.

  Dust clears.

  Standing like they invented villainy—

  Max.

  And his three idiot lackeys, all standing in formation like backup dancers in a low-budget music video.

  Max spread his arms. “Friends! Allies! Survivors of the damned! You may be wondering, who caused the explosion?”

  “IT WAS YOU,” Stellan shouted.

  Max blinked. “Yes, but—listen. Join me. I have a plan.”

  “You BLEW US UP,” Grim shouted.

  Mateus stood, covered in ash. “Did you think that was going to make us want to work with you?”

  Max raised a finger. “Explosion… equals survival test. And you passed! You’re welcome.”

  Mika facepalmed.

  The three lackeys behind Max nodded like they shared one brain cell between them.

  Zoya crossed her arms. “Okay. Anyone else want to murder him, or should we vote?”

  Max ignored it. “I can lead us to safety. Out of this cursed city. But only if we work together.”

  Grim pulled his bat out of the dirt like he was choosing violence and loyalty at the same time.

  Mateus blocked him. “Later. Priorities.”

  Meanwhile, the noise had worked its magic.

  Zombies.

  Dozens of them. Crawling out of the alleys, buildings, ruins, trash piles. Shambling like they smelled blood and bad decisions.

  Max turned dramatically. “Aha. The horde arrives.”

  No one clapped.

  Grim cracked his neck. “We’re screwed.”

  Zoya: “We’ve been screwed.”

  Stellan: “Do we fight?”

  Mika: “Obviously.”

  Grim: “Where the hell did you come from again?”

  Mika smiled. “I heard an explosion. Thought you died. Came to laugh. Saw you alive. Stayed to help.”

  Grim: “That’s not help. That’s a delayed insult.”

  Mika winked. “Flawed delivery. Heart was there.”

  Zoya blinked at him. “Are you flirting?”

  Mika: “Only if you’re flattered.”

  Zoya: “I’m armed.”

  Mika: “Hot.”

  Mateus groaned. “God, I miss the zombies already.”

  Max coughed. “So, um—just checking—are we working together or—”

  Grim raised his bat.

  Max raised his hands.

  The zombies snarled.

  Everyone braced.

  But no one ran.

  Because they were all too tired to care, too angry to think, and too stupid to die politely.

  End of Chapter.

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