The city is alive and bleeding, veins of neon running through the blackened concrete like liquid fire. Rain falls in jagged rhythms, smashing against rooftops and puddles that reflect a thousand distorted realities. Shadows crawl, stretch, and flicker like dancers on a stage only they can see, hiding demons beneath skin-tight suits and glittering masks, their smiles sharp enough to slice souls. Music drips from speakers in abandoned subway tunnels, a pulse that rattles bones, tugs at hearts, summons monsters from the cracks between reality and hallucination. Alleyways twist like serpents, graffiti writhing and screaming truths no living eye should witness, and streetlights shiver under the weight of unspoken sins. Skyscrapers loom, glass and steel teeth gnashing at the clouds, their reflections fractured, splintered, showing more than just the city—they show the hunger in the shadows. Neon flickers in sync with screams, and sometimes you can hear the claws brushing concrete above the synth beats, dancing in perfect rhythm with the chaos. Hunters stalk these streets with eyes like fractured moons, hearts wired to the electric pulse of danger, moving silently until the moment they strike, melting into darkness before the echo of a note fades. Here, blood is both ink and perfume, music is a weapon, and every heartbeat is a countdown. The night is endless, the demons endless, the city endless—and only those who can dance with madness, sway with peril, and bleed in time with the rhythm will survive this eternal, neon-lit symphony.