After Heaven

5,000 undead down. The reaper called… said you’re overqualified.

100 bosses down. You didn’t just win — you made it look easy.

500 zombies down. You’ve got a PhD in undead population control.

You've shredded 150 undead. The apocalypse fears your name.

Five titans fallen. Your legend spreads like the plague that birthed them.

25 bosses slain. You didn’t just survive the end times — you conquered them.

2000 corpses later, you’ve erased a species. Almost impressive.

You took down your first boss. The ground remembers the impact. So will the others.

50,000 zombies vaporized. Nature’s mistake corrected — violently.