Rudy went to the city. Even at night, the post-apocalyptic metropolis didn't sleep; it just changed predators. Sirens wailed in the distance, mixing with the guttural roars of monsters lurking in the quarantined zones.
Rudy stood on the edge of a crumbling gargoyle atop a skyscraper, looking down at the sprawl. He wasn't looking for lights or movement. He was looking for a void.
In this new world, everyone leaked energy. Awakened humans buzzed like static. Monsters felt like rotting meat. But he needed the specific, freezing emptiness of a high-ranking demon.
He closed his eyes, filtering out the noise. He ignored the flickering aura of the S-Rank hero patrolling three blocks over. He ignored the nest of arachnids in the sewers.
There.
Deep in the heart of the commercial district, buried beneath layers of concrete and lead, was something or someone he was looking for.
The Obsidian Club
"Found you," Rudy muttered.
