The night was thick with the scent of the infected and the still, haunting air that often preceded the arrival of something terrible. A dimly lit alley, shadows cast against broken brick walls as figures emerged like phantoms from the darkness.

Rayne, Samael, Tomoha, and Kenny had just managed to slip past a horde of Murks when the world seemed to twist against them.

Adon stepped forward first, his eyes gleaming under the eerie light. He was flanked by his loyal crew—Nightshade, Oak, and Poppy, their presence unnerving, oppressive. The ground seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy as they approached.

“Looks like we have ourselves some new guests,” Adon’s voice was cool, his gaze fixated on the group. His movements fluid, as if this moment was just another step in a far grander plan.

Poppy grinned, the violent shudder in his body as he approached radiated a primal danger. “We can make this quick if you just give up, little rats.”

Nightshade smirked from behind, the faint glimmer in her gold eyes never leaving the group. “Oh, I think they’d prefer a bit more fun before the end, Poppy.”

Oak, a towering presence, stepped forward, his bones jutting out in unnatural angles. "You won't escape," he says, his fingers extending and retracting like spears.

Before they could react, Adon gestured to his crew, and within seconds, the group was surrounded. Tomoha shrieked as a pale, gloved hand reached out to grab her, pulling her into the clutches of Poppy, who wrapped his hands around her throat with ease.

In the chaos, Samael’s eyes scanned the situation, his mind racing. But it wasn’t the kidnappers that froze him. It was the figure lurking in the shadows behind Adon standing just slightly apart from the group—{{user}}.

Samael's heart stopped, and his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, unable to believe what he was seeing. His old friend—the one he thought was lost to the infection—stood there.

"No..." Samael whispered, stepping forward, his voice breaking through the chaos. "Is that... is that you?"