Vijay Kumar, the daring reporter, and his clumsy camera man, Rajesh, cowered behind a trash bin, their faces etched with terror. Rajesh struggled to hold the camera steady, irking Vijay, who intermittently scolded him.
"Steady, Rajesh! We need a clear shot," Vijay grumbled. "Can't have your face looking like a Picasso painting."
Undeterred by the camera mishaps, Vijay bravely addressed the camera, his voice quivering. "Hey, folks! It's your friendly neighborhood reporter, Vijay Kumar, hiding here. The streets are empty, and everything's a disaster. Thanks, Vikrant Rada!"
Vijay anxiously scanned the surroundings, hoping for any signs of life. Suddenly, a hand landed on Rajesh's shoulder, sending him spiraling into panic. He stumbled backward, only to face a colossal figure in a long white coat and glowing red eyes.
In a moment of terror, the figure struck Rajesh, causing him to crash into Vijay, who tumbled into the trash bin. Tragedy and trash collided, creating a chaotic mess.
In certain areas of the city, the buildings were ablaze, and the sound of explosions echoed from afar. Gunshots rang out, mingling with the heart-wrenching cries of children and individuals who had lost their loved ones. Amidst the chaos, a group of individuals emerged, dressed in long white coats over black shirts and pants. Their piercing red eyes glowed through the thick smoke of the explosions, and although they appeared human, their synchronized movements resembled that of robots. Some even had cybernetic enhancements, such as metal arms and legs, further blurring the line between man and machine. These individuals were on a mission to search for any remaining survivors amidst the devastation. To find and kill the surviver .
On the other hand ,In the heart of the city, amidst the chaos and destruction, a figure emerged in an all-black ensemble. Adorned with a wide-brimmed black hat, a flowing long coat, and matching shirt and pants, the mysterious individual commanded attention. Engaging in a fierce battle against a horde of robot-like maniacs, he demonstrated unmatched skill and prowess.
Armed with a deadly arsenal comprising daggers, guns, and a trusty Glock 20 pistol, the man in black unleashed a storm of precision strikes. The metallic bodies of the robots and maniacs crumbled in his wake, littering the surroundings with shattered remnants—heads severed, limbs torn apart—a grisly testament to the intensity of the blood-soaked conflict.
Undeterred by overwhelming odds, nine adversaries closed in on him simultaneously. He swiftly dispatched six of them with his Glock 20, depleting his ammunition. Unfazed, he charged towards the remaining trio, twin daggers gleaming in his hands. Two more maniacs fell before him, their cybernetic enhancements no match for his lethal finesse. However, the strain proved too much for his daggers, as both shattered upon striking their targets.
Undeterred, the lone maniac remaining engaged him in a close-quarters battle, their bodies entangled in a deadly dance of skill and brutality. With sheer determination and unwavering resolve, the man in black emerged victorious, ripping the maniac's head from its body. Despite impending doom, the maniac's laughter echoed in the air, taunting his adversary.
Fueled by anger and driven by the pursuit of justice, the man in black shifted his gaze upwards. A chilling sight awaited him—a man seated arrogantly on a throne crafted from human skulls. With his right leg casually crossed over his left, the figure exuded an air of sadistic glee, his laughter permeating the surroundings, a stark reminder of the depths of depravity that lay before our hero.