Cain's fist connected with Seth's jaw like a hammer on anvil. The sound cracked across the ruined warehouse district, echoing off shattered concrete and twisted rebar. Seth staggered but didn't fall. Instead, he roared and lunged, claws extended, the two ancient brothers colliding in a blur of centuries-old rage. Their forces — vampires in black and werewolves in fur and fury — poured into the fray without hesitation. Fangs met claws. Celestial-tainted light from hidden nephilim observers only fueled the chaos.
The fragile alliance Lucifer had forged in the ruins lasted less than a day.
Cain laughed through bloodied teeth as he slammed Seth into a half-collapsed wall. "You always were the weaker one, brother. Hiding behind your packs while I built something that lasts."
Seth's reply was a savage elbow that split Cain's lip. "And you always were the monster who started it. Abel's blood never washed off, did it?"
