James slams hard against a metal canister. It topples, crashing to the floor with a shattering burst—glass and strange liquid explode across the truck’s interior. He rolls, gritting his teeth, and lands knee-deep in a slick puddle of navy-blue goop and broken glass.
“Ugh! Seriously? I just cleaned these boots. Thanks a lot, creeps!”
He doesn’t waste time. With a flurry of kicks, flips, and precision strikes, James takes the two goons down and webs them tightly to the wall. With a breath, he climbs back onto the roof, rain still pounding his suit.
Unnoticed, the blue goop clings to his left leg… and it’s moving.
He taps on the windshield with a casual knock-knock.
“Hey there! Quick question—did you ever take a driving test or did you just unlock Grand Theft Auto and call it a day?”
But mid-quip, he pauses. The goop slithers up around his hip, snaking across his torso.
“Huh?”
The driver yells—
“Kid, What the heck is that!?”
The truck veers hard, tires shrieking.
“Whoa! Easy on the Tokyo Drift! Blinkers exist for a reason, man!”
But the blue mass is relentless, sliding across his chest, wrapping around his neck, creeping higher. His vision narrows. Panic flickers... then fades. Replaced by something else. Something colder, and gruff.
“We are Vengeance”