Evolving Monster in the Monsterverse

{AN: Sorry, I updated the chapters in wrong order. This is the correct chapter}

Across the face of a trembling, wounded world, the ancient creatures once locked away beneath the surface of time began to rise again, not from slumber, but from the command of something older, darker, and far more alien in its grandeur; Monster Zero, the three-headed terror whose unnatural scream now blanketed the planet in dread.

Within the hidden vaults of Monarch's sprawling containment zones, barriers once thought indestructible now lay in ruins, fractured by seismic tantrums and radioactive surges, the many cells that once held abominations in check now rendered useless as the beasts marched into the open, driven by the call of a false king.

…

In Rome, the earth itself cracked open to unleash Methuselah, a behemoth of living stone and petrified bark whose body resembled a moving mountain with tusks forged from fossilized wrath.

In the distant stretches of Germany's Black Forest, a hulking six-legged mammoth-like Titan codenamed Behemoth, bearing curled tusks and a burning mane of molten fur, trampled entire forests underfoot.

Deep within the Sahara, the chitinous scorpion-like Sekhmet emerged from a sand-choked graveyard, each step a promise of agony for the cities nearby.

Others followed; Bunyip of Australia, Leviathan of the Arctic Trench, Tiamat of the flooded abyss.

…

And yet, in the face of this unravelling order, one Apex refused to answer Ghidorah's call.

Beneath the sea, Mark stirred, a being no longer bound by instinct but guided by calculated design, by cold resolve sharpened by evolution and survival. The shriek of Ghidorah clawed at his mind like a barbed whisper demanding allegiance or death, but he snarled within himself and turned his back on the call.

Ghidorah could wait. The feast came first. The competition would be eliminated.

…

Mark's immense bulk sliced through the waters with precision and force, a biological torpedo hurled by purpose. In the shadow of Gibraltar, he emerged, tearing across the Atlantic winds before crashing into the coast near Morocco, where Sekhmet had just begun its destructive crawl across the coastal settlements.

The creature reared back in surprise; many-legged, many-eyed, carapace shining with quartz, only for Mark's barbed tendrils to lash forward like coiled lightning. One wrapped around its midsection, another around its claws, and within seconds, the apex predator's armoured skin had dissolved beneath the enzyme bath secreted by Mark's Osteovoric Ensnarement Membrane.

There was no ceremony in the kill; only brutal precision as poison filled its body, and then, silence.

…

Elsewhere, in the salt-crusted remains of the Dead Sea, the serpentine Titan Tiamat rose to meet him in fury, coils whipping with oceanic speed. Mark met her in kind, unleashing the full might of his Cephalopocalyptic Armament System, barraging her with barbs from every direction, cutting off escape routes, slamming her body to the rocks until her movements slowed, blood sizzling from a dozen rupture points.

Her final screech was swallowed by the tide, and Mark fed again.

…

Then came Behemoth. This one required more. From the jungles of South America, the simian-mammoth hybrid charged with thunderous steps, toppling trees, crushing all beneath him.

Mark waited. He waited as the beast crashed through the treeline, and then, he surged forward from the water with unrelenting momentum, his entire body encased in the Adaptive Apex Exoshell that shimmered with kinetic light.

Behemoth swung a trunk the size of a train car, but Mark coiled low, avoided the blow, and lunged. Tentacles wrapped around the creature's limbs, another around the tusk, and with sheer force of muscle, Mark ripped.

Bones cracked, and blood poured. One tusk was yanked free and used as a spear through Behemoth's eye. The jungle went still.

…

In the shadows of the Dolomite Mountains, Methuselah rose, great stone ridges forming a back that could support a cathedral. Mark scaled the living peak in silence, ignoring the boulders hurled his way, ignoring the claws that raked his side. He climbed and climbed until he reached the beast's crown, and then he unleashed the full might of his Hyperkinetic Apex Arsenal.

Each blow was a seismic quake, every barbed thrust a tectonic shift in pain. When Methuselah finally collapsed, its final tremor echoed across the Alps.

…

One by one, they fell. One by one, Mark consumed them, storing genetic codes, compressing biomass, and calculating his next move with cold, emotionless drive. He avoided the skies. Rodan had taken to the winds. Mothra had yet to reveal herself. Ghidorah remained airborne, a demonic silhouette against the horizon, calling out to his kin.

But Mark did not look up. Not yet. Let the false king scream. Let the others answer. Mark had silenced half the chorus already. And he was not done.