Underworld: Evolution Marcus Novels & Stories

"Because it happened to me too." The admission dropped like a bomb. Marcus's dark eyes gleamed with ancient malice. "I am not the Marcus Blackwood who grew up beside Alpha Richard Silvermoon. I am the Marcus from a parallel reality where I successfully killed Zack's father and took the Alpha position. I died in my timeline during a challenge—but instead of ending, I slid here. Into a reality where I was still just a Beta, still loyal, still weak." "Moon Goddess," Zack breathed. "How long?"

"You do not understand. The hybrids are the future. They are stronger and faster and more powerful than any normal werewolf. Once Kayla perfects the process we can make an entire army of them. An army that can stand against the humans when they finally discover us." "The humans are not our enemy Marcus. We are our own worst enemy when we do things like this." "You are weak Dante. Just like Darius. You cannot see the bigger picture because you are too focused on protecting people who do not deserve protection." He lunged at me and we fought viciously. Marcus was a skilled fighter but I was angrier and more motivated. I managed to pin him down and sink my teeth into his shoulder. "Submit," I d

"Lock down the evening audit logs and go home to your family. The matrix can watch itself tonight." "Goodnight, Mrs. Betiang-Luther. And... congratulations. We changed the world today." "No," I whispered as the console clicked offline, leaving the terrace in absolute, pristine silence. "We just forced the world to admit it had already changed." A soft, familiar rustle of fabric sounded behind me, followed by the heavy, solid cadence of footsteps that I could recognize in my sleep. Marcus stepped out onto the terrace, his massive frame silhouetted against the soft golden light spilling from our bedroom. He had shed his corporate armor entirely, wearing only a pair of dark silk trousers and a

Her blue eyes hardened into twin points of absolute, calculation-driven brilliant frost. ​Marcus Kane had survived the coastal villa flood. In her past life, his survival had been an urban myth whispered among the early wilderness scavengers—rumors of a disgraced elite heir who had barricaded himself within an armored corporate vault beneath the shoreline, emerging weeks later with a scarred face and a psychopathic obsession with reclaiming his stolen assets. She had calculated his survival probability at less than twelve percent in this timeline.

“And when it’s over, Shadowveil will return Elena to me. This rotten world will finally be cleansed… and my mate will live again.” A chill swept through the courtyard. Every face drained of color. Marcus looked at Lara one final time. “You are everything I hate. The chosen one. The blessed one. The symbol of a broken world.” Dark symbols suddenly spread across his skin like cracks in reality. The platform trembled violently. The ground beneath the entire territory began to shake, a low rumble that vibrated up through my bones. And then Marcus smiled—that smile so terrifying it turned my blood to ice. He threw back his head and laughed. “The sacrifice was the packs themselves.”

The weathered cover bore faint traces of intricate designs, symbols that seemed to hum faintly with power. "The original families didn’t just create supernatural beings," Marcus continued, carefully placing the journal on the table. "They deliberately kept them separate. They manipulated evolution itself to ensure that no one would rise beyond their control." Mom leaned forward, her fingers brushing the journal’s cover reverently. Her eyes shone with a mixture of pain and determination. "Richard’s research diary," she said, her voice trembling. "You’ve kept it safe all these years?" "Along with this," Marcus replied, reaching beneath his shirt to withdraw a pendant glowing with deep amber li

“You don’t get that kind of death.” His fingers flew again, but now he wasn’t tracking. He was building. Profiles were pulled. Networks mapped. Old favors woke from long sleep. Men who owed him their lives, their freedom, their silence. The underworld remembered Marcus. They remembered the man who had once broken a rule so badly the punishment had been designed to erase him. They remembered why. “I was almost dead once,” Marcus said, voice cold, deliberate. “And you learned nothing from it.” He sent the first message.

I **Deleted Marcus’s "Rights." I stripped him of his "Humanity." I turned him back into what he truly was: a line of malicious code. "NO!" Marcus screamed as his physical body began to dissolve into white pixels. "YOU CAN'T! I AM THE EXECUTIVE!" "You're a 'Legacy Bug,'" I said. Marcus vanished into a pile of grey ash. But as he disappeared, he threw his silver blade into the **Primary Cooling Vent** of the Genesis engine. --- ### The Meltdown of the Earth

I was running on sheer adrenaline and stubborn stubbornness. "He went this way," Marcus said from up ahead. We were deep in the perimeter woods, inside the Blood Ward. The Void Rot pressed against the red barrier a mile back, a wall of grey death, but here, the forest was still green. Still alive. And terrifyingly quiet. There were no crickets. No owls. The woods were holding their breath. Marcus wasn't walking like a man anymore. He was crouched low, moving on all fours at times, sniffing the air. He had told Tate the truth in the cellar. He was a Hybrid.