Raze Underworld Novels & Stories

“Hidden. Safe. Under no name and no light.” Roman hesitated. “You’re going after Juliette?” “Yes.” “And if it’s a trap?” “I spring it.” She looked at Alec. “You in?” His reply was a cold, certain: “Always.” ⸻ Tracking Salamander meant going through the underworld. Not the glossy criminal elite—Zara burned those bridges weeks ago. No, this required stepping into the Dredge. A shadow market operating beneath the wreckage of a collapsed marble cathedral in Palermo. It was raw, primal, and loyal only to blood debts and secrets.

Somehow, Saint and Raze felt the uncomfortable tension so they invited them to have a walk near the falls. Raze led the way, bragging that he has been in a lot of waterfalls in the human world. They went closer and closer to the waterfalls. They can now feel the nerve-wracking sound of the fall so they covered their ears with their free hands but for Raze, it’s perfectly normal. Later on, Silas and Saint agreed to go back with Jet, leaving Raze alone beside the harsh waterfall. Later on, Raze made his way to the picnic area, rolling two barrels; one for each hand.

I have high hopes that today is going to be a good day, and do you know why? I’ll tell you why. Ethan Reed. I didn’t think I would see him this early in the day but the heavens are on my side. I'm on my way to the recording studio to meet with the only member of RAZE who is actually nice to me, Alexander. We aren't what you would call friends, but he’s one of the few people who recognize my skills as a producer.

The dirt under his feet went momentarily soft, sucking at his ankles. He mis-stepped, momentum carrying him forward faster than he’d intended. Luna pivoted, driving her elbow down between his shoulder blades as he pitched past her. He hit the ground hard, air whooshing out of his lungs. A roar went up from the walls. Bloodfangs snarled, some half-lurching as if to rush forward. Raze rolled, coughing, spitting blood and dirt. He looked up at her, eyes burning. For a瞬, Luna saw something beyond the fury.

of the North were no longer just for survival; they were for the surgical removal of the old world. ​The ruins of Oakhaven were a graveyard of glass and shattered dreams. The Sun-Tower lay like a broken spine across the city’s central plaza, its crystal shards reflecting a sky that was now a permanent, weeping grey. The "Blight-Prime" was thickest here, coiling around the base of the fallen buildings like a shroud of liquid obsidian. ​Rhea and her strike team moved through the ruins with a grim, mechanical efficiency. They didn't use the main roads; they moved through the maintenance tunnels, the "teeth" of the cold stone providing their only protection from the nanite-sludge dripping from t

he said. He pointed to the map on the wall. "...What is?" I did not answer him. Instead, I got another map from under the table. This map was not marked with kingdoms. It showed ruins and forgotten shrines. It showed the paths that existed before the kingdoms were made. Raze stared at the map. "I have never seen this," he said. I said, "Few people have." Razes' eyes followed a red line on the map. It ended at a symbol that looked like a crescent moon.

The building wasn't just a skyscraper anymore; it was a crystalline needle, a conduit piercing the heart of Lagos and reaching for a sky that had turned the color of a fresh bruise. "Zora... the coin..." Dante’s voice was a ghost of a sound. I looked down at the black token the mysterious man had dropped. It wasn't just metal. It was vibrating. I picked it up, and the moment my skin touched the "Butcher’s Mark," a holographic map projected into the dust-filled air of the lab. It wasn't a map of Aethelgard. It was a map of the "Under-Lagos"—the subterranean tunnels that existed before the Spires were even a blueprint.

The Geography of the Ruin The "Dead-Zone" was a "Labyrinth" of skeletal skyscrapers and "Broken" infrastructure. Here, the "Common Ledger" didn't exist; the only currency was "Kinetic" energy and "Functional" supplies. Ethan drove with a "Calculating" focus, his "Strong Frame" absorbing the "Friction" of the cracked asphalt.

Behind her, Below-Prayer opened wider. Divine names peeled from the little shrines under the freeway and flew into its mouth like moths. The Well Spirit shrieked. The Stove God cursed in three dialects. The system gave me an option so bright it hurt to see. [Total seizure authorized under wartime necessity.] [Targets: all dead contracts, Daniel Hart, minor gods in collapse radius.] [Projected result: Underworld Court rank increase.]

For the record, she killed 40+ people already, thereby making a name for herself and ruling the underworld which belonged to him in the first place. He badly wants to meet the stealer of his spotlight. He finished smoking the weed and disposed the stub before stepping into the jungle, the smell of oak oozing from him. The moonlight shone brightly on his dark tats, beautifying his bulgy muscles. He opened the creaky door and went in, meeting total darkness, but something feels weird immediately... The ground beneath him. He looked down to see he's standing on a cracked spot, and before he could move, the spot crumbled down, and he fell from the room to another room, the concretes falling on h