The air in the Brimstone Tavern was thick with the smell of cheap hellfire and despair. Cassiathon Abysswalker traced the scar on her palm, the one that pulsed with the heat of her broken lineage.
"A contract, they said," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper yet cutting through the din. "Freedom, they promised."
Across the sticky table, Lilithiel Morningstar polished a silver dagger, her once-glorious wings now mere shadows under her tattered cloak. "Promises from a devil are chains of smoke, Cassia. They tighten when you least expect it."
The door creaked open, and Raguel Depthcaller entered, his human eyes scanning the room with an unsettling calm. He slid onto the bench, placing a shimmering, nightmarish parchment between them. The contract glowed with necrotic energy.
"Our first target is Kaelen Malphas," Raguel stated, his voice steady. "A traitor to the Bloodthorn Syndicate. His soul-bounty is high enough to cover three months of our… debt."
Lilithiel's dagger stilled. "Malphas? Razamon doesn't set easy tasks. This is a message."
"Or a trap," Cassiathon added, her crimson eyes narrowing at the shifting sigils on the contract. "But what choice do the damned have?"
Raguel met her gaze. "We hunt. We pay. Or we forfeit our second lives. That's the only choice."
As their hands hovered over the parchment, the sigils flared, binding them to the hunt. In the shadows of a high balcony, two figures observed. Razamon Magna smiled, a gesture devoid of warmth.
"Let the game begin, my little hunters," he purred.
Beside him, Sariodeus Lunamaris sipped black wine, her moon-pale eyes glittering. "Do you think they'll reach Malphas before he talks?"
"It matters not," Razamon said. "The chase is the point. Their struggle… is the real interest."
Unaware of the spectators, the three hunters touched the contract. A searing pain shot through their marks, solidifying their fate. The hunt for Hell's bounty had begun.