Apocalypse with my SSS Harem Beauties

George remained beside Daniel for a moment. His hands still pressed against the wound even though he already understood it was useless.

Warm blood continued to slip through his fingers, but he no longer tried to stop it. His mind failed to form any clear thought as the weight of what had just happened pressed down on him.

Clara was dead, and now Daniel had followed, yet the realization didn't move through him in waves or bursts. It settled all at once in a heavy and suffocating manner, leaving him empty and unable to grasp anything beyond that crushing loss.

Slowly, his grip loosened, and he pulled his hands away from Daniel's neck while his fingers trembled faintly, stained deep red.

He stared at them for a brief second as if trying to understand something. Then his head turned toward the distance where the most violent clash still continued.

The battlefield ahead warped under the force of that ongoing fight, where Ether and raw power collided again and again in a storm that distorted everything around it.

George pushed himself up, his movement heavy at first before stabilizing as he tightened his grip around his hammer, only for it to drop slightly and drag against the ground behind him.

He didn't look around or react to the chaos still unfolding nearby. Fighters continued to clash, weapons rang out, and bodies moved through desperate struggles. But none of it reached him anymore as he began to walk.

The scraping sound of metal followed him as the head of his hammer dragged across the dirt, leaving a rough trail behind him while blood continued to stain the ground beneath his feet.

His eyes had turned red, not just from strain but from everything he had just lost. His expression held a mixture of anger and hollowness.

As he moved closer, the air itself began to change, growing heavier and more oppressive as heat, blood, and darkness twisted together into a violent storm surrounding the center of the battlefield.

Thick mist formed from hot blood and dense Ether, swirling together with shadows that coiled and collided as if trying to tear each other apart.

The ground beneath that space had already cracked from repeated impacts and the clash between Myles and Red continued without pause. It looked violent enough to push everything else away.

George stepped into the edge of that storm and finally stopped. He stared toward the center where the two figures moved within that chaos.

"MYLES! CLARA… DANIEL… THEY ARE DEAD!"

Inside that violent clash, Myles continued exchanging attacks with Red. Their movements were sharp and relentless as their weapons collided again and again in rapid succession.

Those clashes carried force that shook his arms. Each step demanded precise control.

The pressure between them distorted the space around their fight, keeping everything else at a distance while their battle remained locked in a constant exchange.

In the middle of that flow, something shifted in Myles' awareness as his eyes caught a glimpse of movement beyond the edge of their battle.

He saw George standing there, just outside the boundary formed by their clash. The sight immediately felt wrong.

George wasn't moving or fighting. The way he stood carried a heaviness that stood out even from a distance.

"Why is he just standing there?" The thought surfaced as his gaze flickered briefly in that direction while he deflected another attack and forced his body to remain in rhythm with the fight. "What happened?"

George's posture didn't match the battlefield. His shoulders had dropped, his stance lacked its usual strength, and something about him looked broken.

"Why does he look like that…?"

Then, through the constant clash of steel and Ether, through the noise that filled the battlefield without pause, Myles heard his voice cutting through everything else.

"MYLES! CLARA… DANIEL… THEY ARE DEAD!"

The words reached him.

They didn't arrive all at once. They cut through the chaos in fragments, breaking past the clash of steel and the violent surge of Ether until they forced themselves into his awareness.

For a second, Myles didn't understand them. His body continued to move. His blades still met Red's attack in a sharp collision. But something inside him had already begun to slow.

Then it settled.

Clara… Daniel… they are dead.

His eyes widened.

The force behind his movement faltered. It was enough for the shock to strike deep into his chest. It spread instantly like something tearing through him from the inside.

His breath caught in his throat as the weight of those words pressed down on him with crushing force.

The battlefield remained the same around him, loud and chaotic, but it felt distant now, as if something had separated him from it.

"No… that's not…"

The thought formed but never finished.

The feeling that followed came too heavy to deny.

It was the same.

The same suffocating emptiness. The same sharp pain that gripped his chest and refused to let go. Like when he lost Nadine.

The memory surfaced without warning, dragging everything with it as the past overlapped with the present in a way he couldn't separate.

The same loss and helplessness. The same moment when he saw everything he tried to protect slipped through his hands as if it had never been within his reach at all.

"Not again…"

His grip tightened around his weapons, but it didn't steady him. It only made the tremble worse.

Clara… Daniel… dead…

The realization settled deep, cutting through any last trace of denial as his chest tightened painfully. His breathing turned uneven as something inside him began to break apart.

He had fought and pushed forward. He had tried to hold everything together to protect the people around him and make sure no one else would be lost like before.

And yet… It happened again.

"Is there… nothing I can do to protect?"

The question echoed in his mind, hollow and empty, as his focus slipped further away from the fight in front of him.

Despair took hold.

It wrapped around him slowly but completely, tightening with every passing second until it left no space for anything else.

The world around him dimmed. Not in sight but in feeling, as if everything that mattered had already been stripped away, leaving him standing in the aftermath with nothing left to hold onto.

Then… Something changed.

A cold sensation crept into his mind. It slips into every thought and emotion, dulling the sharp edges of the pain while replacing it with something else entirely.

It moved deeper, settling into his heart, where the grief had been burning just moments before.

It felt cold… and empty.

From his body, darkness began to emerge.

It rose like mist that thickened as it coiled around him, seeping out from his body as if it had always been there, waiting beneath the surface.

It twisted slowly, spreading outward and blending into the already chaotic air around him.

Red felt an ominous feeling.

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