The ground trembled as Jake stepped forward. His eyes glowed red under the broken skyline. Wind howled through crumbling buildings, carrying smoke and the stench of death.
Across from him stood Arthur. Human. Furious. His muscles coiled like a spring. He didn't flinch.
The air was heavy—like the whole city was holding its breath.
"You shouldn't have come," Jake said, his voice warped and guttural. His body twitched weirdly as his genetics kicked in, skin crawling, bones cracking into place.
Arthur just cracked his knuckles. "You talk too much."
Then the world blew up.
A shockwave tore through everything. Walls collapsed. Windows shattered. Hundreds of demons just froze—caught off guard—eyes wide as a blinding flash swallowed the area.
Before Jake could blink, Arthur was already on him.
Crack!
Arthur's punch smashed into Jake's ribs, launching him straight through a ruined skyscraper. Chunks of concrete rained down. Jake's body was already repairing itself—bones snapping back, nerves shutting off pain.
Jake stepped out of the rubble, not even winded. "Not bad."
His arms bulked up, skin rippling with new muscle. He surged forward, his fists turning into jagged bone blades. He slashed fast—but Arthur dodged like he knew the moves before they came.
Arthur slammed a knee into Jake's gut. Jake doubled over.
Then Arthur grabbed him by the face and slammed him into the ground. Hard. The impact left a crater.
Jake's vision fuzzed. His skull reinforced. Muscles hardened.
"You're fast," Jake said, wiping blood off his lip. "Let's see how you handle this."
His body warped. Grotesque. New limbs burst from his back, covered in razor bone plates. Extra eyes opened across his face, each one tracking Arthur. His power spiked.
He lunged again, limbs moving in a brutal rhythm. Arthur dodged most of it—but a blade caught his arm, slicing deep. It healed instantly.
Jake twisted mid-air, firing a tendril from his palm. It coiled around Arthur's leg.
Arthur's face changed. Strained.
Jake grinned, tightening the grip. The tendril burrowed in, pumping unstable mutations into Arthur's bloodstream.
"You feel that?" Jake laughed. "You're prey now!"
Arthur staggered. Everything slowed. But then—deep inside—something snapped.
His eyes lit up. A deep, molten red.
And then the fire came.
A wave of heat exploded from his body. Jake's tendrils caught fire, burning to ash. Arthur's body turned blinding-hot, glowing with raw, living flame.
Jake backed up. "You—?"
Too late.
Arthur unleashed a blast of fire that swallowed Jake whole. Jake screamed. His healing couldn't keep up. The flames ate faster than he could regenerate.
Arthur was on him in seconds. Fist to the jaw. Knee to the ribs. Palm to the head. Each hit came before Jake could even react. The flames kept burning, searing through every layer of his body.
Jake dropped, twitching, bones cracking, body trying to heal and failing.
Arthur stood over him, flames still licking up his arms.
"You heal fast," he said. "But you can't heal what keeps burning."
Jake coughed, smiling through the pain. "That... was fun."
Arthur scoffed. "You're lucky I'm not here to kill you."
He turned and walked off, fire fading. Jake stayed in the crater, twitching.
First battle down.
War's just getting started.
Arthur walked the ruined streets. Fires still burned. His body ached, but his mind was sharp.
He felt it—someone watching.
A voice came from the shadows. "Stronger than I thought... but reckless."
Arthur spun. A figure stepped out of the smoke. Cloaked in tattered black, stitched together with ancient scraps and fresh blood. The hood hid most of their face, but glowing violet eyes cut through the dark. Their skin was pale, with strange, jagged markings—like symbols carved in.
The voice was smooth. Dangerous. "You made a mess back there."
Arthur's fingers lit with flame. "Talk straight. Or start running."
The figure didn't flinch. "The Dark Clans are watching. We see power in you. But without control? Power's just chaos."
Arthur snorted. "So what, you here to kill me?"
A soft laugh. "Not yet. Others will try. Without direction, the strong die fast."
Arthur's eyes burned. "You don't know me."
The figure raised a hand. Black tendrils swirled from their fingers, forming runes before fading. "Not yet. But we know what's coming. Jake was loud. Loud enough to draw attention."
Arthur cracked his knuckles. "Let them come."
The figure turned to leave, but looked back. "When it's time, you'll have to choose. Hunter… or hunted."
And just like that, they vanished—no sound, no trail. Just the stink of rot in the air.
Arthur exhaled, fists tight. He didn't know if that thing was a threat… or the start of something way worse.
He kept moving. Past the bodies. Into the heart of the dark manor.
Camila needed him. Amelia might still be alive. And whatever this darkness was—it needed to be stopped.
Inside, the halls were dim and twisted. The air felt wrong. Heavy.
Then—another figure.
Tall. Lean. Silver-white hair falling over broad shoulders. Dressed in sleek, black armor etched with glowing silver lines. His crimson eyes locked onto Arthur.
"You made it further than I expected," the man said, voice smooth but smug. "But you're bleeding. Power's fading. And you're about to face someone way out of your league."
Arthur raised his blade. "Who are you?"
The man smirked. "Call me Rael. Not that it'll matter once I leave you broken."
Unlike Jake, Rael wasn't wild. He was cold. Controlled. Every move calculated.
Arthur's pulse quickened. He wasn't fully recovered. This wasn't good. But he couldn't stop now.
Rael stepped forward, eyes glinting. "Let's see how long you last."
He moved first—fast. Arthur barely saw the punch before it slammed into his gut. He staggered, but Rael didn't stop. Another hit cracked his ribs.
Arthur countered with a kick. Missed.
"Too slow," Rael said.
Then—time stopped.
Arthur couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Everything froze.
Rael strolled around him like he was nothing. Twisted Arthur's arm behind his back. Then reality snapped back.
Arthur screamed as the joint snapped.
Rael didn't care. "Pathetic."
Arthur swung with his good arm.
Time stopped again.
Rael sidestepped and jabbed his throat. When time resumed, Arthur collapsed, choking.
Another freeze. A hit to the knee. Arthur dropped.
A boot to the face. Blood hit the floor.
Still, Arthur stood.
Rael shook his head. "You don't get it."
He froze time. Again.
Approached. Calm. Almost bored.
"You never stood a chance," he said—and drove his hand through Arthur's chest.
Time resumed.
Pain.
Arthur's body shut down. Blood spilled. His heart stuttered.
He dropped. Cold. Done.
Or so Rael thought.
In the dark, something sparked. Deep. Ancient.
A flame.
Not fire. Something worse.
Destruction.
It caught. Grew. Ignited.
Arthur's eyes flared open.
Rael turned. The air around them shifted. The manor began to burn—not in flames, but in concept. Reality peeled.
Rael lifted a hand to stop time.
It shattered.
His power broke.
Arthur rose. Not healed—changed. His body rebuilt, stronger. His eyes were stars collapsing in fury.
Rael froze.
"What…?"
He tried again. Time. Control. Nothing worked. It all burned.
For the first time, Rael stepped back.
And Arthur stepped forward.