The city is burning again. Classic Gotham never lets you have a quiet night, does it? The air feels thick, almost like you could chew it if you wanted to. Shadows creep around, looking hungrier than usual. The street is cracked open, lava-red, bleeding under the concrete like the city has its own veins.
Up in the sky, the Bat is out doing his thing. You know, a billionaire by day and a brooding vigilante by night. But down here, in the filth where no one in a cape bothers to look, that's where the real excitement happens.
Boots make sharp sounds against steel. A man steps out. Well, "man" is generous. His silver hair is messy, and his red trench coat catches the light like he stole it from the devil's closet. It's Rex. He has a smirk sharp enough to cut glass and carries a sword on his back that's bigger than most people's egos.
"Tch. Gotham's always so welcoming," he mutters, looking at the crowd ahead. They are not even pretending to be human anymore. Bodies are twisted up, and their eyes glow with a sickly green light. Real nightmare fuel.
[V.E.R.G.I.L. chirps in: DEMONIC ENERGY AT 72%. HOSTILES: TWENTY-THREE.]
Rex rolls his eyes. "Twenty-three? What, did they run out of budget?"
[RECOMMENDATION: INITIATE COMBAT. MAXIMIZE STYLE.]
He grins, really grins. "Yeah, yeah, keep your circuits on. I got this."
His sword is out before you can blink. He moves like he's bored, like this is just a warm-up before breakfast. The first demon lunges for his throat. Bad move. Rex ducks, the blade flashes, and—poof—half the demon evaporates. Ash blows away in the wind.
All hell breaks loose.
He glides through them, boots skidding through puddles, sword spinning, pistols blazing—bang, bang, click, twirl. It isn't even a fight. It's a show of strength.
[STYLE RANK: C. "CRUDE."]
Rex scoffs after blasting a demon at point-blank range. "Crude? Man, you wound me."
[V.E.R.G.I.L.: TRY AERIAL COMBOS. STOP REPEATING YOURSELF.]
He shrugs and takes the suggestion. He vaults off a dumpster, flips like he's auditioning for the circus, and slices through three skulls in a single move. He slides back, juggles a demon midair with bullets, and finishes with a roundhouse kick just for flair.
[STYLE RANK: B. "BRUTAL."]
"That's better."
But then, everything changes. Something feels wrong. A low rumble vibrates in his bones. He turns and, well, crap. At the end of the alley, under the neon glow, a massive demon stomps forward. It has horns, armor, and eyes that burn bright.
[V.E.R.G.I.L.: WARNING. CLASS-B DEMON. ENERGY SPIKE AT 93%.]
Rex grins, his eyes wide. "You're a big one, huh?"
The demon roars, and the ground shakes. Rex actually looks excited. "Finally, some cardio."
They collide—sword meets claw, sparks fly, and chaos reigns. The demon swings wildly. Rex ducks, slides under its legs, carves upward, hops up the wall, and lands on its back, pierced his sword in its thick hide.
Not enough.
The demon bucks him off, smashing Rex into a pillar. That hurts. Blood seeps from his lip, but he still wears that cocky grin.
[V.E.R.G.I.L.: DEVIL TRIGGER READY. INITIATE?]
"Nah. Let's dance a bit longer."
The demon swipes at him, its claws grazing his cheek. Rex empties his pistols into its face, but the demon only gets angrier. Then, bam—a claw digs into his side. Everything begins to blur. His legs feel weak. He's teetering on the edge, caught between confidence and darkness.
"Not yet, dammit..."
The demon is about to finish him when—
"HEY! UGLY!"
A bottle smashes against the demon's face. A flash of light makes the demon reel back, howling. Rex blinks and sees her: a woman without armor or gadgets, just a satchel and a fire in her eyes that you don't see outside of bar fights or bad breakups.
"What are you waiting for? Get up!" she yells as she charges forward, like she has nothing to lose.
Rex can't help but offer a weak, bloody smirk. Who is she? Doesn't matter.
Suddenly, this night gets a whole lot more interesting.