Apocalypse with my SSS Harem Beauties-Chapter 95: Evolution

Inside the house, the giant had not come out because he could not. The reason lay within his own body.

The blue-skinned bulk that once resembled an obese, malformed man had grown far worse. His skin stretched tight and glossy. His veins bulged beneath it like writhing worms. The pale blue color deepened into something more sickly and uneven.

His body no longer followed any natural proportion. His head had elongated. His skull pulled forward and upward as if something inside was forcing it to grow.

One of his arms had swollen thicker than the other. The joints distended and bent at wrong angles.

His legs twisted in uneven lengths, the muscles knotting and tearing beneath the skin.

His torso bulged grotesquely. The flesh rising and sinking as though something alive was moving inside his chest and abdomen trying to break free.

Overall, the sight was nauseating and repulsive. If any human had seen him now, they would have vomited on the spot.

The house itself had become an extension of his decay. The stench of rot was no longer ordinary. It was thick, wet, and suffocating. The smell was far worse than the normal rotting smell.

The smell seeped through cracked walls and broken windows, spreading outward like an invisible fog, clinging to the surrounding streets and ruins.

The giant was suffering. Yet he could not scream.

Something in his transformation had robbed him of that ability. His vocal cords were locked. His muscles refused to obey. He couldn’t move and couldn’t thrash. Couldn’t even curl his fingers. All he could do was endure and wait.

Pain unlike anything he had ever known tore through him. It wasn’t sharp. It was overwhelming. It was a constant and crushing agony that drowned every other sensation.

It devoured his thoughts, crushed his instincts, and left his mind barely clinging to consciousness.

"What the fuck happened to me? Why does it hurt this much?!" he screamed.

But the scream existed only inside his head.

The process had already been going on for hours. Or maybe minutes. He couldn’t tell. Time had lost meaning the moment the pain consumed his brain.

His awareness drifted in and out, sinking into darkness and haze before being dragged back by another wave of agony.

His consciousness floated, half-submerged, barely anchored to reality.

Then something appeared.

Text formed inside his vision. The same system messages he had always ignored before because he felt them as useless noise.

[The evolution process is almost complete.]

Evolution?

The word echoed in his mind.

Despite the pain, a surge of joy burst in his chest. That meant he would become stronger!

He was already so powerful and was unstoppable to the weak humans who had tried to fight him before. And now he was evolving again.

"I’ll be even stronger than this," he thought, delirious. "Maybe nothing will be able to kill me after this."

The idea intoxicated him. Perhaps he could evolve endlessly beyond this monster’s form.

Perhaps he could become a god.

Another line of text appeared, answering his unspoken desire.

[Yes. That is correct. You have been chosen to become a vessel of the Seed Power.]

[With this, you will gain the opportunity to evolve into an Apotheon-rank being.]

The giant’s consciousness froze.

For several seconds, there was nothing but silence in his mind.

Then his joy exploded.

Laughter filled his thoughts. His mind soared, drunk on the promise of absolute power. But outside his distorted mouth just twitched uselessly, producing only broken grunts as his body continued to twist and change.

Inside the rotting house, surrounded by darkness and filth, the giant waited, enduring his pain.

—

Unaware of what was happening inside the rotting house, Myles and the others kept moving.

They spread through the ruins, prying scrap metal from wrecked cars, torn fences, collapsed storefronts, and shattered street signs.

Hands worked fast. No one slowed down. Every piece of usable metal went straight back to their shelter and into George’s hands.

That night felt strangely quiet because no monsters appeared so no howls echoed through the streets.

The absence of danger gave George space to work without interruption and he used every second of it.

Inside the shelter, the forge glowed.

George swung his magical hammer that was surrounded by golden light again and again, sparks bursting with every impact. The metal bent and reshaped under his strikes, flowing unnaturally as if it understood his intent.

Plates hardened, edges sealed, and the joints formed with precise clicks of magical energy of Ether and his skill.

"I can’t stop," he muttered under his breath, sweat pouring down his face. "I know I can’t... but damn, this is exhausting!"

His arms screamed. His shoulders burned. His grip trembled.

Another set of armor came together under his hammer.

He didn’t pause.

Ethan arrived silently, dropped a pile of scrap beside him, and turned away immediately. No words passed between them because everyone knew that talking was a waste of time tonight.

More footsteps followed, scrap arrived, George hammered, and another armor formed.

Again and again.

Metal rang through the house in a steady rhythm, the sound echoing into the night. The air filled with heat, smoke, and the sharp scent of scorched steel.

George’s breathing grew heavier, his movements started to slow down, but he never stopped swinging. The survivability of his friends depended on him.

Hours passed like that.

By the time the sky outside turned completely black, ten sets of armor lay lined up on the floor. They weren’t identical, but they shared the same core design of solid chest plates, reinforced joints, layered protection built for survival rather than beauty. In fact, they looked ugly.

Midnight arrived without ceremony.

One by one, the others returned and gathered inside the shelter. The noise faded. The hammer dimmed.

George finally let go of his hammer.

He collapsed onto his back on the floor.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat soaked his clothes. His hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers numb from hours of strain.

But the armor was finished.

"We better rest first for now," Myles said. "Tomorrow we will attack."

They rest without actually resting that night.

—