The night sky was torn open by a streak of motion-an enormous figure bounding across rooftops in massive, predatory leaps, her silhouette illuminated by the moon. In her iron grip, a limp body dangled-Kyle, unconscious and bloodied, his head bobbing with each jump.
Chasing her, surprisingly close, was a man draped in a long, dark gentleman's coat. Emerald light pulsed around him like a living aura, licking the edges of his frame with ghostly flames. His hair was wind-swept, his expression stone-cold. Hector was gaining.
Lynx, intrigued by the pursuit, let out a low, metallic chuckle. "Ohh..." she purred, voice deep and distorted through a modulator.
She skidded to a halt atop a wide rooftop. The gravel beneath her boots cracked. With casual cruelty, she dropped Kyle's body at her feet like a discarded trophy.
Crack. Crack.
She rolled her neck, flexing her shoulders as a slow, feral energy built around her massive form. Muscles tensed beneath her black tactical suit, and her claws gleamed like steel under starlight.
Hector landed on the opposite end of the rooftop and came to a graceful stop, coat billowing. He didn't rush. Instead, he straightened, adjusted his gloves, and took a poised step forward like a nobleman attending a duel.
"Would you kindly return the boy?" he asked, his voice calm, refined, but icy. "My lady would be... quite heartbroken if her pet didn't come back."
His emerald eyes flickered with restrained fire. He raised both hands slowly, fingers flexing, showing the smooth, polished surface of his gloves.
Lynx tilted her head slightly, sizing him up. The mask obscured any emotion, but the low rumble in her chest made her intent clear.
"You think you can defeat me barehanded?" she said, voice reverberating like a growl through metal.
Hector smiled faintly.
Suddenly-fwsssh!-a green flame erupted from his right palm. It didn't flicker like ordinary fire. It curled and shimmered unnaturally, casting eerie light over his sharp features.
"I won't ask again," he said, voice laced with finality.
Lynx cracked her knuckles.
"So be it."
She lunged.
A blur of black and silver streaked across the rooftop-her claws swept in a wide, brutal arc aimed at Hector's throat. Her speed was monstrous.
But Hector moved with an elegance that defied physics-leaning back just enough to let the claws slice through air mere inches from his face.
Then he slid back, boots skimming the rooftop, and flung a swirling ball of emerald flame from his palm.
THWMP-!
The orb collided with Lynx's arm, splattering across her sleeve-but she barely flinched. She looked down at the glowing fire now sticking to her armor.
The flame didn't die.
It clung. It shimmered. It grew.
Lynx's expression-though hidden-read confusion. She raised her arm as the flame pulsed brighter and brighter, the light reflecting in her glowing red eyes.
Then-
BOOM!
A fiery explosion erupted from her left side, launching smoke and debris into the air.
Lynx stumbled, her body hidden behind the blast cloud. A ripple of heat spread out across the rooftop, licking the edge of Hector's coat. He stood his ground, eyes narrowed, flames dancing in both palms now.
The rooftop was scorched black, glass shards glinting in the moonlight, and smoke coiling upward like whispers from hell itself.
From the heart of the explosion, a silhouette emerged-limping, staggering-but far from defeated.
Lynx.
Her left arm was gone, blown clean off. But the sight of her only grew more terrifying. Her stance, wide and unshaken, made her look more beast than woman-her aura boiling the night air.
Then the mask fell.
It clattered to the rooftop, revealing the true face beneath.
Long, raven-black hair, damp with sweat and ash, tumbled down her back. Her skin was deathly pale but flawless. Two crimson eyes glowed with feral hunger, and from behind her parted lips, elongated fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Blood stained her chin.
A vampire.
But not just any. This one was carved from muscle and menace-an apex predator disguised in flesh.
Hector froze. The heat of battle flickered for just a second. He hadn't expected his enemy to look like this.
"A human caster," she said with a deep, but no longer modulated voice. Her tone was lower than most women's but unmistakably feminine-intimate, layered with disdain and intrigue.
Then, with a sickening squelch, the horror deepened.
From the jagged stump of her severed arm, bone began to twist and snap outward. Tendons slithered around them, muscle fibers weaving back like threads, and finally, skin stretched tight over the fresh limb.
She flexed the regenerated arm slowly, her expression unreadable.
Hector's eyes widened. A drop of sweat slid down his temple. "A... full regeneration?" he muttered.
The monster grinned. "You should see what I can do when I'm angry."
Meanwhile-
Somewhere Else
Kyle floated.
Weightless. Motionless. Thoughtless.
The endless white void around him stretched in every direction like a blank canvas-silent, still, empty.
There was no pain. No time. Just... nothing.
Until-
Drip.
A sound broke the silence. Not a real one. A memory.
Then-
"Oh, kid..." a familiar, sardonic voice echoed in the light. "How do you expect me to become the apocalypse if my vessel is this damn weak?"
Kyle's eyes fluttered open-if they could be called eyes in this space. "R-Raknar?" he whispered, barely forming the words. "Is that you?"
"Oh now you remember me," the devil replied, lounging in the whiteness like a phantom of smoke and horns. "Where was I, you ask?"
Kyle's fists clenched. "You left me."
Raknar's grin widened, sharp as a blade.
"I was... watching Mr. Flex-from your memories. Ha! What a dumb show. But I gotta admit, the suit's nice."
Kyle growled weakly. "You were watching TV... while I was dying?"
Raknar's ember eyes flared. "Dying?" he scoffed. "No, no. You were failing. There's a difference."
He leaned in, his massive presence suddenly bearing down on Kyle.
"You let some overgrown bloodsucker toss you around like a chew toy. That's not what my vessel does."
Kyle's eyes narrowed.
"Then help me."
Raknar's grin faded into something colder. "I could. But only if you let me in. No more hesitations. No more 'balance.' You want to live? Want to win? You need me. All of me."
Kyle's breath quickened.
"I'm not your puppet."
"You're not," Raknar said, voice like velvet over knives. "You're my equal-if you stop pretending you're not already a monster."
The void shook. Cracks of red split the white, and Kyle felt a heat rise from below, like Hell knocking.
"Wake up, Kyle," Raknar whispered.