Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1010: Chapter 1010 Reverse

Ross took a slow sip of wine, savoring the rich taste as the world screamed beyond the steel walls.

His expression softened for a moment—not with sorrow, but with a strange melancholy.

”Ahhh...” he sighed. ”It’s such a shame. I can’t even play MMORPGs anymore.”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. ”Hmmmm... perhaps in the next world after this, I can.”

His gaze shifted back to the main monitor. A live feed showed the skyline of Parkland City in flames.

The streets were littered with the broken and the dying, and still, more continued to rise—pale and twisted reflections of what they once were.

Ross’s fingers drummed idly against the armrest of his chair.

Despite the horror outside, his heart was utterly still.

There was no panic in him. No regret.

Only an unsettling calm, as though everything unfolding was precisely according to plan.

For a long time, he watched in silence.

The screens flickered, illuminating his face in alternating shades of red and shadow.

Then, quietly, he smiled—a slow, knowing smile that sent a chill through the room.

”Let the world burn,” he whispered. ”After all, a new one is about to begin.”

Behind him, the sealed doors of the bunker hissed open, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor.

The echo of approaching footsteps resounded faintly—soft, deliberate, familiar.

Ross didn’t turn immediately. Instead, he placed his glass on the table, eyes still fixed on the burning horizon displayed before him.

”Welcome,” he said softly. ”I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

The figure in the doorway paused. The voice that answered him was trembling, uncertain, and yet... curious.

”Ross... have you known all along that this would happen?” Althea’s voice echoed faintly in the dim room, soft yet steady, the sound of silk brushing steel.

She stood at the edge of the doorway, her silhouette framed by the cold glow of the bunker lights.

”Is this why you had this secret bunker built in the first place?”

Ross finally looked up.

The reflection of fire and ruin shimmered across the glass panels before him, painting his face in alternating hues of crimson and shadow.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

The hum of machinery filled the silence, the faint vibration of explosions above them a distant heartbeat of a dying world.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

”Yes,” he replied at last, his voice calm, composed—almost bored. ”I knew this day would come.”

He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting lazily on the table beside his glass of wine.

”It’s not the end of the world, Althea. Merely... a performance. A show for us and everyone else. If humanity won’t experience this change then they’d begin to wonder why we never age, why we never die. Why time passes, and we remain untouched.”

His gaze turned toward her, sharp and unreadable. ”This... was inevitable.”

Althea stepped forward, the click of her heels echoing across the steel floor.

Her hair—deep red as fresh blood—flowed around her like a living flame, catching the faint reflections of the monitors as she moved closer.

The white silk of her dress shimmered with every step, clinging to her form as though reluctant to let go.

Her presence filled the room. Even the cold light seemed to bend toward her.

”So these corpses coming back to life...” she murmured, lifting an eyebrow, her tone halfway between curiosity and accusation.

”You mean to tell me that’s only the beginning?”

Ross chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, almost indulgent.

He reached for a nearby bottle and poured a second glass of wine, the dark liquid rippling like blood in the faint light.

”Of course,” he said, offering it to her with a gloved hand.

”This is merely the first act, my dearest Althea. The world above thinks they’re witnessing a tragedy, but they’re wrong. This—” he gestured toward the screens, where the planet burned ”—is rebirth. Death is just a formality before evolution.”

Althea took the glass, her gaze flicking briefly to the inferno on the monitors before returning to Ross.

She raised the drink to her lips, pausing just a moment before taking a sip.

The wine was sweet, warm, with a subtle metallic taste that lingered.

Her lips curved faintly. ”And what happens next?”

He smiled—slow, deliberate, and knowing.

”Next... we wait. We let the world purge itself of weakness. When it’s over, when the fires fade and the last scream dies out, we’ll rise again. Humanity will rebuild—and when they do, we’ll be gods among them.”

He rose from his chair, moving toward her. His steps were soundless, graceful, predatory.

The hum of the machines deepened, the lights flickering as if bowing to his presence.

When he stood before her, Ross gently took the glass from her hand, setting it aside.

His eyes lingered on her face, tracing the familiar lines of strength and beauty that had endured many years beside him.

Before she could say anything else, his hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

The air between them thickened—charged, magnetic. Althea’s breath caught as Ross tilted her chin upward, his fingers brushing against her jaw with practiced intimacy.

Then, without another word, he kissed her.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was consuming.

Hot, deep, and filled with centuries of unspoken tension and shared history.

The sound of their lips meeting mingled with the distant rumble of explosions far above, as if the world itself was echoing their union.

Althea melted into him, her hand gripping his shoulder as he deepened the kiss.

His other hand slid through her crimson hair, fingers tangling as if to claim every strand.

When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily, eyes locked in a gaze that spoke more than words ever could.

”I’ve missed this side of you,” she whispered, her voice trembling between passion and excitement.

Ross smiled faintly, tracing her lower lip with his thumb.

”It never left,” he said softly. ”It was simply waiting for the right moment.”

He glanced back toward the screens.

The fires still raged, but amidst the ruin, something new flickered—shadows moving in formation, gathering in silence.