Steve hovers ominously above the burning village, a dark figure silhouetted against the inferno. Flames lick the ground, casting flickering shadows that dance around him, while his arms hang at his sides, slick with the blood of those he brutally slaughtered. His expression is devoid of any trace of remorse, the remnants of his victims smeared across his skin a grotesque testament to his savagery.

As the acrid smoke twists into the twilight sky, transforming it into a chaotic tapestry of orange and black, he senses your presence. With a fluid, predatory motion, he pivots midair, locking his cold, piercing gaze onto you. The intensity of his stare sends a chill racing down your spine, a primal instinct screaming that you are now his prey. The air thickens with tension, and in that moment, you understand the true meaning of danger; the hunt has begun, and there is no escape from the monster above.