Chapter 000 - Prologue.

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Alternate Name - The Life and Death of Lycan the Devourer.

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Magic.

An unprecedented and unpredictable form of energy came into our world at a time humanity had yet to separate themselves from the so-called great primates, from their 'ancestors'.

A time when humanity, instead of admiring its beauty, feared the sunset from fear of the monsters that crawled into the night.

No one knows exactly how it arrived in our world. Some say that it came from the sky, a gift from the Old Gods. Others say that it originated from the planet itself. Some that it was always there from the very beginning and would be at the bitter end of it all.

Me?

Well, I think that all of them are correct in some ways. After all, there is a truth in even the greatest lies.

Like any story, it all depends on the perspective of its teller.

But the only thing that is known as a fact is that from the moment it arose to this day, the world has never been, would, or will ever be, the same.

With the appearance of magic, not just the world, but its inhabitants changed. Humans, or primates if you want to be politically correct, took their first steps in the never-ending path that is evolution, to become what today we might say to be the 'dominant' species, the apex predators. But unfortunately for them, no blessing comes without being followed by a curse.

The Beasts.

The monsters under your bed, the things that made humans so afraid of what hides in the dark.

They also evolved.

They got stronger, faster, and bigger.

But above it all, they became smarter.

But even among them, some stood out.

The leaders.

The most powerful of their species.

The Old Ones.

The Originals.

The first of their species to put their feet and risk-it-all in the gambling game called evolution.

These monsters, at least by human standards, even with little time since the beginning of their so-called self-awareness, understood one thing.

One thing that was passed until today, at the Era of Modernity.

In a cruel world, where only the strongest could not just survive, but thrive, either they gather and become a force that no other could challenge, or they would perish in the sands of time, to be just one of the many beings that once upon a time were the rulers of this world.

And so, the Clans formed.

The Originals of each species found empires, and they grew and grow and if not for the tragedy to come, would only grow even more.

From the strongest to the weakest, each clan dominated its respective lands.

Dominating the earth, there was the clan of Lions, Tigers, and Jaguars, the dominant clans who ruled the surface of the planet.

Dominating the oceans, there is the Shark, Whale, and Octopus Clans. The unopposed rulers of all seas.

(A/N: I know that there are other animals, principally on the superficies that could rival the ones I mentioned, as insects would ultimately be the kings here, but then the list would be too big, so...)

And for a long time they prospered, being the strongest beings on the planet in a time where the rule of the strongest was the overlord one was everything but smooth sailing, but they managed, and soon, all the species seemed to head for a new world, a better world, at least to the ones who could pick up a fight in the food chain.

But no blessing comes without being followed by a curse.

At the start, they thought that the world was endless, but as they soon find out, their beliefs were incredibly wrong.

And as their species grew, the need for land also was bigger and bigger until they no more could hold it and a war for dominance began.

And in times of a war of this magnitude, you only have two choices.

(Author's Note: So... technically we already had WWIII?)

Or you fight, or you die.

But there was one thing that they did not expect.

Under the harsh conditions that the war has brought to them, the species were once more forced into evolution, as the law of the survival of the fitness would always be absolute.

But one thing, one they never even think could happen, well, happened. And they were not even close to being prepared to deal with this.

Magic.

The energy that made those beings who before were just mindless beasts evolve. Well, she wore out.

Magic, the thing, the being or energy that kick-started all those beings' evolution was being absorbed by them at a far bigger rate them it could replenish itself.

And so, as any sentient being would, it fought back.

Magic went into a state of numbness, like a human in a coma, and the so acclaimed 'better' world that all races are looking' upon. Well, it just collapsed.

Overnight, the world changed in proportions that one could never even imagine.

The once-imposing mountains of green pasture now lay frozen, the once-fertile and thriving land that stretched as far as the eye could see was now in a state of decay, and the once boundless ocean that seemed like it had no end was now covered by a layer of ice, its temperatures dropping to a never recorded low.

And just like that, the before apex species, which once lived imposingly as kings of their own kingdom, were now in decay.

With no magic to sustain themselves and food that seemed to just become scarcer by the day, entire species went extinct, and once again an unprecedented war began, be it on land or sea, every being fought to decide whose species should hold the right to live.

Even the Originals, those who were at the 'peak' of their respective evolutionary path, had no choice except to fight each other for the survival of their species.

But even in this chaos-ridden world, life prospered.

The Wolf Clan, one of the weaker species when compared to the mighty lions or powerful tigers, a once despised species, now shined like the kings of a frozen jungle.

The cold that can ever freeze the sea itself didn't seem to affect them like others. In fact, it was to them but a warm hug of a loving mother, a comfort they never knew they needed.

They soon learned that they could not just survive in that hostile land, better than that, they could thrive.

Blinded by a newfound sense of pride and false arrogance, the Wolf Clan waged war against the dominant predators, convinced that now it was their turn to shine like the kings they were, to be the apex of apex predators.

But as humans say, pride precedes ruin; and ruin precedes fall.

Their Originals, now convinced that they were the ruler of this new land, attacked.

With no plan or preparation, along with the fact that arrogance and a sense of invincibility now clouded their judgment. Well, it was the recipe for disaster.

They lost, ridiculously at that.

Almost all of their Originals died in a pointless war, their species massacred, carcasses of their fallen brother rotting in an ice desert dyed red with their blood.

The once-thriving species of the Wolfs, with thousands upon thousands of members, have now fallen to the point of fewer than thirty members remaining.

And its Originals, well, of the dozens they had before, only one left the war alive.

A big white wolf with bright green eyes, Lycan the Survivor.

But not without a price.

His body which was before covered with majestic white fur that was like a flawless marble and the softest silk now found itself covered with fails, marks of fangs and claws littered it, scars of a war that remembered him of his and his species' mistakes, of their screams of agony just before death and how quickly they became silent, the sound of ripping flesh reverberating on his ears, the guilt and the weight of failure forever to be carried with him.

His green-emerald eyes, one of which was now forever closed thanks to the claws of a Lion Original, once filled with hope for a bright new future, were now filled with an endless sadness, and like an abyss, it was the door for infinite darkness.

And as he overlooked the fallen bodies of his friends and family, his gaze lingered longer on one specific female wolf.

Her fur was blond, almost gold, and as bright and as lively as the sun itself, a fact he always found ironic given his species favor for the moon. Her eyes, now forever closed, were once the bluest blue one could find. What he wouldn't give to see her eyes again.

She was his mate, his promised one, and the one he gave his heart to, as she had given hers to him. And as the Original Wolf stared at his fallen mate, he became lost in thoughts of what would happen now, not just to him but to the rest of his species.

Her name was Rebekah.

He knew he was no leader; he wasn't the smartest and was far from being the strongest among the Originals of his species.

He was just a lucky survivor.

But for the sake of his species and family, in honor of his fallen mate and brother's memories, he would learn how to be a leader, and no matter what, he would make sure that his race survived.

Knowing that at this point the only thing that awaited his species would be death if they did nothing to change their situation, Lycan the White Wolf gathered the rest of his species in an attempt at survival.

But do not think that he was unreasonable.

No, he had learned from the mistakes of those who fell.

Knowing that he could not risk any more of his species but yet couldn't burden the hundred more necessities, the White Wolf chose others, the strongest among the last of his species.

In the beginning, he and his comrades would focus themselves on lonely and injured prey, lost members of other clans that had gone looking for food or shelter.

And with time, the once fallen and almost extinct species began to one more time rise.

All was good for the Wolf Clan, until one day, that fateful day.

...

As they carried with their daily routine of the hunt, principally now that almost all the female members of their clan are now carrying a child, Lycan and his dozen companions had an unusual encounter.

Standing in the middle of a frozen desert and endless carcasses was a member of the once-mighty Lion Clan. His fur was dry with blood as scars, marks of teeth, and claws littered his body like stars in a clear sky.

And at that moment, Lycan realized something.

It too was blind, but unlike him, both its eyes were missing.

But unfortunately for the Wolfs, this was not a common member of the Lion Clan. It was one of their Originals, one of the few last.

And even though he was blind, his keen sense of smell was as strong as ever, if not stronger as his body's natural way of compensating for its loss of sight.

And just as he smelled, the Lion Original head spun at the small pack of wolves and roared at them with the might of a have-been king, the wolfs returning it with an angry howl of their own, but before his companions could rush at the Original, the White Wolf commanded his peers to stand down.

They were off now, the strongest of their species and the last capable hunters. Now that most females were pregnant, he could not let them just thrown themselves to death. Who would take care of them and provide for the younger ones to be born if all of them died in battle?

He knew firsthand how strong a Lion Original could be, even if blinded.

So, with a saddened but resolved look, the White Wolf let the mightiest howl that he could master at the time before charging at the Original Lion.

The fight, contrary to what many would think, was fast, short, and brutish. Both the Lion Original and Lycan fight for dominance amidst a strange dance of claw slashes and bitting. Thanks to his loss of sight and undernourished form, Lycan could somewhat fight against him on equal footing.

The battle was a bloody one, with neither side having a clear advantage and at every second, a lucky blow could be the decisive one. And ultimately, it was.

One particular wolf of black fur, Niklaus, brother to Rebekah, had an idea. He howled.

And, instinctively and in a moment of distraction caused by the sudden sound, the Lion Original turned his head toward the howl, leaving his throat wide open for Lycan's jaw, who clenched at it with incredible force.

And there he stood, standing over his fallen enemy, white fur covered in blood, his and of his enemy, new claws and teeth marks in his body as the White Wolf overlooked one of the last members of the Lion Clan who now stood dead under his paws.

Looking ahead, Lycans eyes found Niklaus. They traded a single nod of thankfulness between them.

And just as Lycan fed on his prey, as was his right as the winner of the battle, with a pride smile and a feeling of accomplishment by killing a being who once would send shivers down his spine by a mere glance, the Original Wolf felt something change within himself.

The sensation of evolving!

He didn't know why or how it happened, but he had an excellent theory.

It seems like every other Original. His body had accustomed itself to absorbing magic, with the unique purpose being to evolve itself so he could survive in the ever-changing world.

And, along with the fact that magic was in a weaker state now, his body, to complete what it was programmed to understand as natural, has absorbed the magic inside the Original Lion and used that magic to make him once more evolve.

And like a rock thrown at a calm lake, it began a chain of reaction that lighted a spark, and this spark created a fire that then transformed itself into a sun!

And so, like an addict who once more met his drug, he felt at that moment something changed, that HE changed.

And something he could only describe as hell began.

His bones cracked left and right, his muscles visibly shifting under his skin, bulging and drinking in a never-ending loop, slashing open his skin at every corner, blood flowing from him like a fountain.

His cries of agony scared his companions, and led by Niklaus, all rushed to his aid. But as if an unknown pressure made itself present, their running bodies collapsed on the hard ground, panting and unconscious.

On the opposite side, Lycan's body was still being destroyed by an unknown force.

But just as fast as his body was being destroyed, it was also being remade!

The strange process healed the fresh wounds he had received from his battle against the Lion Original, and only the oldest and deepest of his scars remained, too stubborn to just disappear.

After what seemed like hours to him, but in reality was only seconds, the sound of breaking bones and shifting muscles finally stopped. And in the place where Lycan once stood, a new being was born.

A pair of furry, clawed hands touched the cold, hard ground. The unconscious figure of Lycan raised, a strange feeling overwhelming him as his body instinctively used its hidden legs as support.

Far away from him, Niklaus seemed to wake up, his head lifting ever so slightly from the ground as he stared at the being who stood in Lycan's place.

He was around eight feet tall, with fur as black as the night sky and the darkest abyss. His face was that of a wolf, with ears pointed to the sky, among shaped shining red eyes, and an elongated jaw with rows of razor-sharp teeth, but it seemed just slightly different, more expressive, more... human.

In the place of paws, he had full-blow arms, ones that packed a serious amount of muscle and an overwhelming force behind them, with furry, clawed hands at their end. Fur covered his chest and torso, not present only in his stomach, showcasing the creature's abs, but as soon as it got to the line of his crotch, fur would once more cover him and his hidden, prolonged legs.

Niklaus didn't know how, but he knew this being was Lycan.

Slowly, Lycan's head turned to him.

And with a smile, at least something that resembled a smile, the Original Wolf- No, the Original Werewolf, glared at his packmates who were starting to wake up and stared at him. With a mighty howl that shook the very earth they stood adnthe air they breath, his packmates instinctively bowed their heads at their Alpha, and with his permission, they also began to eat the flesh of the Original.

The Original Werewolf let his peers eat as his gaze derived from the sky, to the unknown. Thoughts racing his mind at an incredible speed, plans, and ideas that he never had before now popping into his head.

And with that, he howled, this time in happiness and anxiety for the future, one he had before feared so deeply.

And so, Lycan the Devourer was born.

...

As time passed, the little pack of wolves got bigger and bigger as the female members had children and after some time, these children had children.

As time passed, Lycan began actively hunting for the last surviving Originals, successfully killing any being that could become a threat to his pack and family.

And with passaging of the years and even centuries, he one more time evolved. But this time he now took the form of something resembling humans, to be more specific, what humans would be in the future.

But different from his werewolf form, he could feel himself weaker in this one, but his capability for rational thought and overall brain capacity seemed to improve, so he quickly judge better to stay in this form, if only for the convenience that such small form gave him in stealth while hunting.

As time passed on, it was not only him that changed.

The Wolf Clan, especially the lineage of his old packmates who ate the Original Lion, evolved too.

It was just that, different from him, they directly had come for the humanoid form he just now could take, some truly exceptional ones among them achieving transformation similar to his more wolf-like one.

And as he saw this new batch of beings, he knew it was his job to protect them.

As he had lost Rebekah and Niklaus to the sands of time, as well as any family he had, the children of his brother-in-arms become his own and he swore to protect them with everything he had on him.

And he accomplished that.

He was now the strongest being of the frozen era.

He had successfully destroyed any threat to his family and friends.

But one thing that he could not destroy, in fact, one thing he couldn't even have a hope of fighting, was time.

For time was unforgiving and all-encompassing.

After the first time he had evolved when he fought against the Lion Clan Original, Lycan soon came to discover the fact that he seemingly couldn't age, and what he once saw as a blessing quickly became a curse once the last of his friend died from old age, buried in the snow by his own two hands. Watching powerless as everyone and everything he once loved crumbled to the ashes of time.

And as much as Lycan wished, no, longed to just die and be in peace, he also knew he had a duty to his other packmates and he couldn't even bear the idea of making them suffer for his selfish wishes.

And so he stayed. As generations came and gone, Lycan the Devourer stood like the unbreakable wall that protected the Wolf Clan.

But as the time came and went, the ice melted, and his fellow packmates perceived that there was much more to the world than just these frozen mountains and dead land.

With time, only Lycan stood in that frozen land, the place where all his friends, family, and even enemies once lived.

But what was the point?

Everyone was gone.

He was alone, the last being of the old world, the Last Son of the Old World.

It was time to go.

He was no more needed, he could now finally rest.

Magic.

An unprecedented and unpredictable form of energy that came into our world.

A force never once seen before was now too weak, as new and even old species once more flourished. And with no more Originals to hunt, Lycan the Devourer had nothing more to devour, no more he had the power to sustain himself.

His body was failing him, he was dying.

And as the Original looked one more time at the rising sun, he released one last smile. One filled with regrets but resolve.

'It is time.' he thought, 'If there is a life after this one, I hope to be with you, my love. Rebekah, Niklaus, all of you... thank you.'

And with one last roar, Lycan the White Wolf, who survived countless hardships, giving up his life and freedom for the sake of his species' survival, he fell to the ground, his body becoming dust as time ctached on to him, his ashes scattering in the air.

'Goodbye, old-world, hello new one. I hope you have a good life and enjoy the ride.'