Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse

Outside the manor house, the sandstone terraces of Bowral didn’t just smell like rot anymore; they vibrated with the absolute fury of apex predators pushed to the brink of insanity.

Dimitri moved like a man on a mission. The magnificent, rare albino leopard beast-man was a blur of ghostly white hair and raw muscle, his pale, snow-white spots blending into a deadly camouflage against the rising dust of the courtyard. His claws were twice as long as a standard leopard’s, gleaming with a terrifying, ivory-bone sheen. Every single swipe of his arm didn’t just tear flesh; it cleanly decapitated three or four zombies at a time, his long tail whipping behind him like a steel wire to maintain an impossible, gravity-defying balance as he bounded off the stone pillars.

Beside him, Exile was a nightmare of sheer, crushing mass. The colossal, dark-scaled snake beast-man didn’t need claws. His lower half was a massive coil of iron muscle that flattened entire swathes of the horde into green pulp against the sandstone floors. He moved with a sickening, liquid speed, his massive emerald-black tail snapping through the air like a whip, shattering limbs and breaking the spines of any infected that dared look toward the upper terrace windows.

But it was Damien who completely halted the horde’s forward momentum.

The elegant, silver-tongued snake beast-man stood perfectly still on the stairs, his dark hair falling across his face as his eyes shifted into narrow, slit-like golden pits. He didn’t lift a blade. He simply opened his mouth, a low, hissing rattle escaping his throat as his fangs extended, dripping with a luminescent, pale green fluid.

Nerve Dominion.

With a sudden, violent exhale, a cloud of micro-fine green mist erupted from his lips, settling over the hundreds of zombies rushing up the main path. The effect was instantaneous and grotesque. The moment the airborne venom touched the dead flesh, the zombies froze mid-stride. Their yellow eyes turned a deep, sickly emerald as Damien’s poison seized their nervous systems, completely overwriting whatever dark force was animating them.

"Kill each other," Damien whispered, his voice smooth, cold, and dripping with absolute malice.

The infected horde instantly turned on itself. Zombies began ripping the arms off other zombies, teeth tearing into rotting throats as Damien manually puppeteered their bodies, forcing the front ranks to form a cannibalistic meat shield against the rest of the charging mass. It was a total, systematic demolition of the frontline. Behind them, the leftover unmated tigers of Bowral wild, furious, and eager to prove their loyalty to the manor, roared in absolute sync, their massive striped bodies diving into the flanks to tear apart the stragglers.

Then, Ivan’s deep, panicked voice broke through the upper window of the manor house, carrying a desperate, raw terror that froze every husband’s blood.

"Dimitri! Voss! Get the hell inside! Felicity’s in labour! It’s early, she’s screaming...I need help!"

Dimitri froze on top of a shredded zombie heap, his albino leopard ears twitching violently as his heart dropped straight into his stomach. His mate was opening her body inside early, and he was out here dealing with garbage. A terrifying, low growl vibrated through his chest, his white fur bristling until he looked twice his actual size.

"Snow Team!" Dimitri roared, his voice shaking the sandstone tiles. "Take the gate! If a single dead thing steps across this threshold while my female is delivering, I will hunt every single one of you to the ends of the earth!"

"Exile, Damien, Voss with me!" Dimitri ordered, not even waiting for a response as he turned on his heel. His powerful leopard legs launched him straight through the second-story glass window in a shower of glittering shards.

Exile’s massive snake form slid up the stone walls with terrifying speed, while Damien and Voss glided right behind them, their faces pale with a desperate, obsessive need to get to their female’s side. The core husbands vanished from the courtyard in a flash, leaving the frontline entirely to the guards.

"There they go," Legend muttered, his snow leopard ears swivelling toward the second-story window where the glass was still raining down like glitter. He didn’t even bother looking up, his twin daggers executing a flawless, blinding cross-slash that sent two zombie heads spinning into the dirt. "The guys drop everything and run the absolute second she lets out a heavy breath, leaving us to clean up this disgusting mess. Truly, my life’s grand purpose is being realised right now as a glorified janitor."

"Oh, stop crying, Legend," Marx shot back with a sharp, playful laugh. A massive, branching chain of blue lightning erupted from his fingertips, violently leaping through an entire column of thirty infected. The zombies cooked from the inside out, dropping in a smoking, charred row, but the young panther beast-man didn’t even glance at them. His eyes were glued to the upper windows.

"Think of it as clearing the stage for the Queen. Besides, she smiled at me from that balcony last Tuesday. I’d kill a million of these bastards just to see her tail fluff twitch again."

"She smiles at everyone because she thinks we’re a normal, functioning squad, you delusional simp," Legend sneered, his voice dripping with venomous sarcasm as he gutted a stray runner. "She has basic manners. You have a psychological disease."

"Watch me, then," Marx chuckled, his blue eyes flashing with an unhinged, fiercely competitive light as he launched himself off a stone balustrade. "I’m going to grind the eastern ridges after this. I’m going to get to 110 and get her to notice me. Mark my words, when I hit level 110, she’s going to look at me the way she looks at Dimitri."

"Keep dreaming, kid. The gap between you and the core husbands is wider than the eastern trenches," Jolt scoffed, thrusting a lightning bolt through a decayed chest nearby. He wiped a spray of foul black blood from his cheek, his expression instantly shifting into a dark, desperately obsessed daze. He leaned in closer to the frontline, his voice dropping into a ragged, breathless murmur. "But god... I hope we get to fuck her in our dreams again tonight. That shared buff she threw out accidentally... I haven’t slept properly since."

THWACK.

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