State your farewell, stash your resources, and sharpen your blades, for it's the age of apocalypse. Technological worlds, fantasy worlds, mythical worlds, cultivation worlds, etc. all face an apocalypse these days. But this isn't natural. Having suffered in a looping apocalypse for 48 lifetimes, Rhizen establishes an intergalactic force to clean up all apocalyptic worlds, vowing to destroy the ender of everything, the Grade-3 System...Apocalypse! To stand against it were the band of broken heroes, once pitiful souls, but now grouped as vengeful victims, naming themselves… The Post-Apocalyptic Dispatch Society!
Bam!
The red-haired Blight Human crashed into a tree as parts of the roots covering his body fell, shredded to the limit.
"Keuk!" He raised his arms upon spotting two flower buds nearby, shielding himself as the two flower buds bloomed, spitting out seeds like shrapnel, piercing through his defences. He hurriedly slipped behind the tree, hearing the sounds of the seeds impacting the tree trunk.
But just as he was about to move, his foot stepped on a patch of grass that riled up in response, transforming into a mouth that clamped upon his foot, digging into it little by little, "Shit! Not again!"
Roots jutted out of the ground and ripped apart the patch of grass, freeing his leg as he moved away, grunting in pain as he was injured all over. But, it was apparent that he wouldn't get any time to rest, for a pleasant aroma began to waft into his nose, causing his skin to itch.