The storm had grown into a merciless torrent, drumming on rooftops and streets, a chaotic symphony of thunder and rain. Liberty City felt smaller beneath its gray shroud, the neon lights weak against the darkness. And within this chaos, Gina Moretti moved like a shadow predator, her figure barely visible atop the slick rooftops.
Every step she took was calculated. She wasn't just tracking a man—she was hunting a force of nature. The reports were unanimous: bodies vanished, assassins destroyed, government officials left terrified. This man wasn't human; he was fear incarnate, and tonight, she would see if she could match him.
---
The First Encounter
She crouched on the edge of a rooftop overlooking the docks. Shipping containers stretched like black monoliths below, slick with rain. Her target—a tall figure, standing motionless amidst the puddles. H.I.M's coat clung to his broad frame, dark as the night itself, and his eyes… his eyes glimmered with unnatural intensity.
Gina drew her katana slowly. Rain ran down the blade, dripping like molten silver. Her instincts screamed danger, but she had faced killers before. None like this. None like him.
He lifted his head, sensing her. Not with sight—something deeper. The shadows themselves seemed to pulse around him.
"You've been expecting me," he said, voice low, smooth… unnerving.
Gina's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not here to talk."
---
Shadows and Steel
The duel began silently. Gina dropped onto the dock, her blade slicing through the rain. H.I.M moved—not running, not dodging—but flowing. Every step was precise, his body anticipating her strikes before she could even commit.
She slashed horizontally; he caught the blade between two fingers, bending it with an audible crack. Sparks flew.
"You're skilled," he said. "But skill alone won't save you."
Shadows began to stir around him, writhing and stretching like living entities. They coiled, forming tendrils that reached for Gina. She ducked and rolled, cutting through one only to have another lash at her back.
The docks shook with the force of their strikes. Crates toppled, metal groaned, and a nearby container erupted into flames as one of H.I.M's shadow strikes ignited leaking fuel.
---
Psychological Warfare
He didn't just attack her body; he assaulted her mind. Her worst fears—the faces of innocents she had failed, the memories of colleagues she couldn't save, even her own death—manifested in the shadows around her. Every tendril was a mirror of her doubts, a reflection of her weakness.
Gina felt panic clawing at her chest, but she ground her teeth and forced focus. Precision, discipline, control.
She lunged, striking at a shadow tendril wrapping around her arm. It hissed as her katana cut through, but it reformed instantly. She realized this wasn't just magic—it was an extension of him, and every blow she delivered fueled his power.
---
The Brutal Clash
H.I.M advanced with terrifying calm. Every strike was calculated, every movement fluid, inhuman. He didn't just block her attacks—he redirected them, using her own momentum to throw her off balance. Rain and blood mixed on the dock, creating a slippery battlefield.
"You have courage," he murmured, "but courage alone is nothing."
Gina's katana connected with his shoulder, drawing a line of crimson. For a heartbeat, he flinched—the only human response she would ever see.
"You fight differently than others," he said, stepping back. "You adapt. I like that."
Lightning split the sky, illuminating the battlefield. Shadows writhed like serpents, flames licked at wet metal, and the storm raged as though the city itself recognized the devastation unfolding below.
---
Pushing Limits
Gina realized she had to push beyond her limits. Her mind cleared, blocking out the illusions, the fears, the whispers of doubt. With a shout, she launched herself at him with a flurry of strikes designed to overwhelm.
H.I.M blocked, twisted, absorbed, and retaliated with a shadow strike that sent her skidding across the steel. Pain erupted across her back, but she ignored it. Every bruise, every cut was a reminder—she could not fail.
"You will not control me!" she screamed, voice raw.
"You already are," he replied softly, almost admiringly.
The shadows surged, but Gina focused on the smallest movements, the tiniest openings. She feinted, rolled, and in a perfect arc, severed a tendril, sending it recoiling into the rain.
---
A Temporary Retreat
Both combatants paused, panting, dripping, assessing each other. The storm seemed to calm slightly, as if the heavens were holding their breath. Gina's eyes were blazing, wet hair plastered to her face. She had survived, but only just.
H.I.M's gaze was calculating, cold, but with a spark of recognition. "Interesting," he murmured. "Most would have broken by now. You… fight with intent."
Gina wiped blood from her lips, gripping her katana tighter. "This isn't over."
The shadows around him retracted slowly, flowing back into his form like liquid smoke. With a sudden, almost imperceptible motion, he vanished into the storm, leaving her alone on the dock.
The city echoed with silence and rain. Every step she had taken, every strike she had made, felt like a small victory—but she knew the war was just beginning. H.I.M had shown her his power, his mind, and his relentlessness.
And Liberty City would never be the same.
---