Azrael crouched on the rooftop, his eyes fixed on the target below. The city streets were always alive with activity, but at this hour, the crowds had thinned, and the streets were relatively quiet. The only sound was the distant hum of a city that never slept.
He adjusted his grip on the blade, feeling the familiar weight of it in his hand. The blade was an extension of himself, a tool forged for a singular purpose – to kill. And he was good at it. Too good.
Azrael's gaze narrowed as he focused on the target. A wealthy businessman, known for his shady dealings and ruthless tactics. He was a cancer, and Azrael was the cure.
With a silent leap, Azrael launched himself off the rooftop, his blade flashing in the dim light. He landed with precision, his eyes locked on the target.
The businessman looked up, startled, as Azrael approached him. He tried to run, but Azrael was too fast. He grabbed the man's arm, twisting it behind his back.
The man screamed as Azrael's blade sliced through his throat, severing his jugular vein. Blood sprayed everywhere, staining the pavement and the surrounding buildings.
Azrael held the man's head back, watching as the life drained from his eyes. He felt a rush of excitement, a thrill of satisfaction.
This was what he was made for.
As the man's body slumped to the ground, Azrael wiped his blade clean on the man's jacket. He stood up, surveying the scene.
It was a messy kill, but it was effective. The businessman was dead, and Azrael had sent a message.
He turned to leave, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. He knew that he would be called upon again, to carry out another kill, another mission.
And he would do it, without hesitation. For in this world, he was a monster, a creature driven by instinct and training.
Meanwhile.... on the other side of the city.
The air was thick with an eerie, unnatural silence. It was as if the very fabric of reality was holding its breath, waiting for the impending storm.
In the depths of the underworld, a powerful demon named Xandros stirred. His human-sized body was a mass of twisted, corded muscle, his skin a deep, burning red.
With a swift, deadly motion, Xandros drew his blade, its edge glinting with an otherworldly light. He moved through the streets with a silent, ghostly tread, striking without warning.
The humans were caught off guard, unable to comprehend the horror that was upon them. Xandros sliced through them with ease, his blade moving in swift, deadly arcs.
A young woman tried to run, but Xandros caught her with a swift, backhanded blow. Her body crumpled to the ground, her limbs severed from her torso.
An old man tried to defend himself, but Xandros was too fast. The demon's blade sliced through the man's defenses, striking true with a deadly precision.
The streets were soon running red with blood, the bodies of the innocent piled high. Xandros moved through the carnage with a silent, deadly tread, his blade rising and falling with a rhythmic, deadly motion.
A figure then appeared on the horizon. Azrael, the young and deadly assassin, had arrived, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination.
With a swift motion, Azrael drew his blade, its edge glinting in the fading light. He charged forward, ready to face the horror that was Xandros.
But as he approached the demon, Azrael felt a creeping sense of dread. Xandros was unlike any opponent he had ever faced. The demon's speed and agility were unnatural, his blade moving with a deadly precision.
Azrael's blade flashed in the dim light, striking true as it bit deep into Xandros's side. But the demon didn't even flinch. Instead, he turned to Azrael, his eyes burning with an inner fire.
"You are no match for me, little human," Xandros sneered, his voice like a rusty gate. "You are but a mere mortal, a fleeting moment in the annals of time."
And with that, Xandros raised his fist, and punched Azreal in the face.
Azrael's body crashed to the ground, his vision blurring as Xandros's foot came down, crushing his chest. He screamed in agony as the demon's blade sliced through his side, the pain burning like a fire.
Xandros laughed, his eyes blazing with an inner fire. He kicked Azrael again and again, the young assassin's body crashing into the nearby buildings. Azrael's bones cracked and splintered, his skin torn and bruised.
The demon's blade sliced through Azrael's arm, severing it from his shoulder. Azrael screamed, his vision fading to black. Xandros's laughter echoed through the streets, a deafening sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.
Xandros's foot came down on Azrael's chest, pinning him to the ground. The demon's eyes blazed with excitement as he raised his blade,
"You are no match for me, mortal," Xandros sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You are weak and feeble, a mere insect compared to my power."
With a swift, deadly motion, Xandros brought his blade down, slicing through Azrael's leg. The young assassin screamed in agony, his vision fading to black.
Xandros's laughter echoed through the streets, a deafening sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth. He raised his foot, ready to deliver the final blow.
But just as he did, a strange, green glow began to emanate from Azrael's body.
The glow grew and grew, until Azrael's entire body was bathed in its eerie, pulsing light. Xandros's eyes widened in surprise, his foot hesitating in mid-air.
"No," Xandros growled, his voice low and menacing as he stepped back."It can't be. The Demon King killed all of the Archangels. You can't be one of them."
Azrael's body began to heal, his wounds closing with an unnatural speed. His severed arm reattached itself, his bones mending with a strange, otherworldly power.
Xandros's eyes blazed with excitement, his face twisted into a snarl."I'll enjoy killing you."
With a swift, deadly motion, Xandros drew his blade, ready to face Azrael once more. The green glow surrounding Azrael's body grew brighter, illuminating the darkening landscape.