THE ZOMBIE SYSTEM-Chapter 64 - 63: The Skin Walker’s Gambit

"The final phase begins now."

The voice echoed through stone corridors older than the city above. Deep beneath Armathor’s foundation, in chambers that predated the Hunter Association by centuries, something shed its stolen skin.

Marcus Thorne’s face melted like wax. The familiar features of the Association Commander dissolved into shadow and writhing flesh. What remained defied human description, a mass of borrowed identities that rippled and shifted with each breath.

The Skin Walker pressed bleeding palms against carved stone. Symbols blazed to life along the chamber walls. Each mark had been etched by forgotten civilizations, designed to anchor power that shouldn’t exist in their reality.

"Master," it whispered to empty air. "The binding circles respond."

Dimensional energy crackled in reply. A presence that existed between worlds answered with approval that made mortal souls freeze.

"Excellent. The necromancer grows too strong. Bring my commander through before he becomes dangerous."

The creature’s form rippled. Chairman Ethella’s face surfaced for moments before dissolving back into shadow. It had worn that identity for months, issuing orders that redirected Association defenses away from the real threat.

Guild Director Voss appeared next. Through that stolen face, the Skin Walker had planted ritual components in Iron-fang weapon caches. Their enhancement magic would amplify the summoning when activated.

Blood dripped from the creature’s fingers onto ritual stones. Each drop sparked against carved channels that connected to identical symbols throughout the city. The pattern formed a massive circle with Armathor at its center.

Years of preparation had led to this moment. The synchronized dungeon breaches were just distraction. Monster attacks drew attention while ancient binding circles awakened with collected death energy. Every casualty fed power into the ritual network.

The Hunter Association headquarters sat on the largest binding circle. The courthouse where Leon’s trial occurred formed another crucial node. Guild buildings throughout the commercial district completed the pattern.

Power flowed through carved channels hidden in foundation stones. The Association’s own building materials contained ritual components, placed during construction by infiltrators wearing trusted faces.

The Skin Walker split its consciousness between multiple stolen identities across the city. Commander Thorne coordinating evacuation routes. Director Voss managing Iron-fang deployment. Association officials redirecting resources away from the dimensional tear.

Each face maintained perfect behavioral patterns. Personal relationships. Professional responsibilities. Character quirks developed through years of observation. The deception was flawless because it was complete.

But maintaining multiple identities during active summoning stretched the creature’s abilities beyond safe limits. Power that should focus on ritual work spread thin across social manipulation. The risk was necessary because Leon’s growing strength demanded immediate action.

Surface reports reached the creature about the necromancer’s current activities. His undead held defensive positions while evolved healing magic treated his mother’s injuries. More concerning, his power showed dimensional attunement that shouldn’t exist in mortal hunters.

The Skin Walker channeled more energy into the ritual network. Stone beneath its feet grew warm as accumulated power exceeded safe thresholds. Carved symbols blazed with light that had been absent for centuries.

Electronic systems began failing throughout the city. Communication tabs shattered as dimensional interference reached critical levels. Even Leon’s undead flickered as their animating energy destabilized.

The ritual network achieved perfect synchronization. Power flowed in circles through binding stones that had waited decades for activation. Dimensional barriers stretched like fabric under impossible tension.

"Master, the way is prepared," the creature announced. "Reality anchor established."

The response came as pure energy that cracked chamber walls. Power beyond mortal comprehension pressed against weakened barriers between worlds. The summoning circle blazed with light that existed in no natural spectrum.

But the ritual succeeded too well.

The dimensional tear opened larger than calculated. Energy feedback surged through the binding network, overloading carved channels and cracking foundation stones throughout Armathor. What should have been controlled manifestation became uncontained breach.

Raw dimensional energy poured through the widening rift. Local reality warped in ways that would take decades to repair. Street lights exploded in showers of sparks. Communication networks died instantly. Natural magic began failing as existence itself struggled to accommodate something that didn’t belong.

The Skin Walker’s stolen faces screamed in unison as feedback tore through its consciousness. Multiple identities collapsed under strain that exceeded its ability to maintain perfect mimicry. Across the city, backup infiltrators revealed themselves through sudden behavioral changes.

Association security noticed immediately. Officers who had worked with Commander Thorne for years watched him stumble and speak in voices that weren’t his own. Director Voss issued contradictory orders in languages that didn’t exist on their continent.

But the summoning was complete.

Something vast pressed through the dimensional tear. Its presence made reality bend like heated metal. Ancient power radiated from its form like heat from a forge. Where it touched ground, stone cracked and reformed into patterns that hurt to perceive.

The demon lord stepped fully into their dimension.

Its appearance defied description. Simultaneously massive and subtle. Solid and ethereal. Beautiful in ways that inspired worship and terrifying in ways that drove mortals insane. Reality reshaped itself around the entity’s existence.

The creature’s arrival sent shockwaves through dimensional barriers worldwide. Every hunter with sensitivity to magical disturbance felt the disruption. Continental defense systems triggered alerts as monitoring equipment registered readings beyond their measurement capabilities.

Three blocks away, Leon’s system interface exploded with warnings about power levels that exceeded all classification standards. His twenty spectral warriors collapsed as their animating energy was overwhelmed by the demon lord’s mere presence.

Windows shattered in perfect concentric circles expanding from the dimensional tear. Metal twisted into geometric shapes that shouldn’t exist in three-dimensional space. The air itself screamed as natural laws bent under pressure from an entity that operated by different rules.

The Skin Walker fell to its knees before its master’s commander. All stolen identities finally collapsed, leaving only writhing shadow and borrowed flesh. The careful infiltration network built over years had been destroyed, but it no longer mattered.

The demon lord’s manifestation marked the beginning of their true invasion. Everything before had been preparation. This was conquest.

The entity spoke in harmonics that bypassed hearing and struck directly at consciousness. "Where is the necromancer who threatens our plans?"

The Skin Walker’s true voice emerged - a sound like grinding bone and tearing silk. "Shadow Quarter. Third district. His power evolves beyond our predictions."

"Then we end him before he becomes truly dangerous."

The demon lord’s form began to shift. Its presence compressed, becoming more solid and less otherworldly. Still impossibly powerful, but contained within parameters that allowed interaction with their reality.

It stepped toward the chamber’s exit. Each footfall left prints that glowed with dimensional energy. Stone melted and reformed around its passage, creating a trail that led toward the surface.

The true invasion had begun.

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