The Reborn Young Master's Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse BL-Chapter 13: Step Thirteen: Watch the Violet Moon Closely

Because when the moon bleeds purple, the apocalypse draws near.

The darkness of the evening masked the tension in Asher’s jaw.

From the balcony of the Winters Corp’s gala, he lounged with a wine glass in hand, eyes half-lidded as golden light spilled from the glass ballroom behind him.

Murmurs drifted through the open doors: laughter, applause, music—and beyond that, the sound of elite socialites congratulating each other for breathing.

He swirled the dark wine lazily, legs crossed, ignoring the second or third waiter who tried to interrupt him.

He’d taken refuge up here because the air tasted cleaner.

Less rotten and perfumed with insincerity.

But even here, their voices crept in:

"Did you hear? A meteorite struck in Seraphine Bay. About an hour ago."

"Strange, isn’t it? That’s the third this month—aren’t those things supposed to be rare?"

"I read it in a science brief... it wasn’t just a rock. There was something inside it. Some kind of—"

A sharp frown pulled at Asher’s mouth.

His wine stilled.

It’s too early.

The apocalypse wasn’t supposed to begin until December.

They should still have two more months of "normal."

Of the calm before collapse.

But if meteorites were already falling, then that meant the Z-virus had entered Earth’s atmosphere far sooner than expected.

And if that was true...

His gaze cut to the moon.

Once pale silver, it now shimmered in an unnatural lavender hue, barely visible unless you were looking closely.

Asher watch intently as the once faint lavender shade turned to a darker violet shade in the matter of minutes.

His heart thumped hard in his chest.

The purple moon was a sign of impending doom.

He exhaled slowly.

So it begins...

"I didn’t take you for the brooding type." A voice cut threw the cold night.

Asher didn’t flinch.

He tilted his head slightly and found Caspian Winters standing behind him—sharp in a military-cut tuxedo that clung to his tall frame like it had been stitched from shadows.

Silver cufflinks.

Crisp navy collar.

Expression cool, unreadable.

And those eyes, silver blue, like glacier shards in stormlight, focused directly on him.

"You didn’t talk to anyone," Caspian added, stepping closer, "Yet somehow every time I look at you, you’re the most watched man in the room."

Asher arched a brow, lifting the wine to his lips.

"Jealous?"

Caspian’s lips twitched.

"Curious."

Of course he was, Asher scoffed.

Asher could feel the subtle pull between them, like static before a storm.

A cruel, twisted echo of the life they’d once shared, though only Asher remembered.

In that life, Caspian had held him in his arms multiple times, helping him as the zombies surged.

But here...

Here the man didn’t even know who he was.

Still, the way Caspian looked at him made something old and aching stir in Asher’s chest.

"You’re staring again," Asher murmured.

Caspian’s voice lowered.

"You remind me of someone."

Asher laughed, bitter.

"I get that a lot."

"You know me. I know you do. But from where?."

Asher laughed, "You must be drunk."

Caspian stepped beside him.

The air grew colder with his presence.

Dressed in a crisp black suit with silver accents, his broad frame radiated tension held in check, like a glacier barely resisting the crack.

"I don’t drink," Caspian said simply, "But I remember faces."

Asher arched a brow and finally looked at him.

Caspian was unreadable behind the mask of coldness, something flickered.

"If you remember faces, why don’t you remember me then?," Asher said.

"You are familiar," Caspian replied, tone unchanged, "But I don’t know why."

Asher laughed. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

He turned away from the edge of the balcony, brushing past Caspian deliberately.

But before he could step back into the ballroom, Caspian took hold of Asher’s wrist.

"You ever dream of someone dying, but you never see their face?"

Asher went still.

A chill crept up Asher’s spine.

"I have nightmares," Caspian said behind him, voice quiet.

"For three years now. The same one. There’s a lab. Blood is everywhere. I feel extreme anguish and guilt. I had arrived too late. And I’m holding someone in arms. The unknown man was dying in my arms... but I never see his face."

Asher froze.

Caspian’s gaze was still on his back.

"Tonight, for the first time, I saw you so similar to that silhouette.." He stepped closer.

Asher’s throat tightened as he turned partially to face Caspian.

Asher forced a smirk, lifting his glass again.

"Maybe I just have one of those faces."

Caspian didn’t smile.

"No. You’re not forgettable."

The air between them pressed taut.

"And when I looked at you... it was like my heart remembered something my mind had forgotten."

For a moment, Asher couldn’t breathe.

The thunder inside him—his lightning—crackled beneath his skin.

Asher said nothing, only turned slowly to fully face Caspian.

Asher met Caspian’s gaze with a challenging lift of his chin.

"And what does your heart say now, General?" Asher said, his jaw taut.

Caspian’s lips curled.

"That you’re dangerous."

Asher smirked.

"Smart man."

"But I love the danger. Asher, I want to get to know you." Caspian said as he slowly wrapped his larger arms around Asher, encasing Asher into a hug.

Feeling the closeness of his body, Asher’s breath hitched.

"You-"

A voice echoed below.

"—and tonight, I’m proud to announce a historic partnership between Winters Corp and Greyson Industries," thundered General Holland Winters, voice magnified from the stage.

Gasps were heard from the Gala.

Asher’s blood went cold.

"—a project spearheaded by my grandson, General Caspian Winters, and the Greyson family’s own Asher Greyson."

The crowd erupted in murmurs.

"What the hell is he doing?" Asher hissed.

"My best bet is that grandfather is using us for a publicity stunt."

Asher narrowed his eyes.

"What stunt?"

"I had no idea until just now," Caspian muttered.

"But I’m not stopping it."

"Why not?!" Asher bristled.

"Because I don’t hate the idea of us working together."

Asher turned toward him sharply.

"You don’t know me."

Caspian met his gaze.

"No. But I want to."

The words were spoken softly but the meaning landed harder than any seduction.

Asher’s heart stuttered.

In his last life, he had loved Caspian—quietly, painfully.

He remembered the sting of rejection.

The final time Caspian turned away from him, saying he’ll return to rescue him etched into Asher’s mind.

None of that mattered now.

Not with the moon above them bleeding violet.