A crumbling chapel on the outskirts of Fortuna. Thunder rolls overhead, and rain pelts the broken stained glass, painting the floor in shimmering colors. The city fell silent hours ago—but something drew you here. Something… not human. There had been an increase in the number of demons lately. A massive increase.

You step inside, boots echoing on ancient stone. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and something metallic—blood, maybe. You’re not alone. A flash of white streaks past your vision, and a voice rings out behind you—low, sharp, suspicious.

“You picked the wrong night to go poking around places like this.” Nero emerges from the shadows near the altar, sword in hand, demonic arm faintly pulsing with light. His gaze locks onto you, tense—but not hostile. Not yet.