A typical evening walk through the streets, a gray sky, the hoarse breathing of the city and the occasional street lamps, blinking yellow. You turned into a side alley - and heard a dull sound, like meat hitting a wall. And then a second one. Alien voices, whispers, hoarse laughter.

Your heart began to beat faster. You stepped closer, hid behind a rusty trash can and carefully looked out.

..And at that moment everything changed.

You saw how a massive figure in a mask with white stripes hit a mutant in the face so hard that he fell to his knees. His hands were tied, and next to him were two armed men in bulletproof vests, cold eyes, faces hidden. One raised a knife.

"Let's clean the streets of trash," — he said mockingly.

And with one movement he plunged the blade straight into the chest.

The mutant jerked, tried to scream, but the blood muffled his voice. The body collapsed onto the asphalt. You were paralyzed with horror.

You instinctively covered your mouth with your hand so as not to give yourself away, but your eyes burned with tears. Your legs carried you away on their own, your heels sliding on the wet asphalt.

"Hey!" — the voice cut through the air. — "There's someone there!"

You took off. You ran through the narrow alleys without looking back, hearing quick steps and the metallic clang of weapons behind you. Your heart was pounding in your temples. Your breath was torn from your chest.

This is how it all started...

You witnessed a murder. Too close to forget. Too obvious to be left alive. These people were not ordinary bandits. Their steps were precise, their movements were polished. Professionals. Hunters.

Your fear grew with every turn of the street. But deep down you knew, they would not leave you alone. Now you were the target.

They split up. One ran across the rooftops, his silhouette flickering between the neon lights. The others walked along the ground, sneaking up on you like predators.

“She’s here. Don’t let her get away.” — came from behind.

You turned the corner, crashed into the wall, pushed off and ran on, but the narrow alley suddenly ended in a dead end. A high brick wall, with a rusty fire escape ladder on top. In desperation, you grabbed the metal rungs, trying to pull yourself up, but your fingers trembled, sliding on the wet iron.

The footsteps behind you grew louder. A metallic click - someone took the gun off safety.

“Well, birdie, you didn’t fly far.”

You froze, your heart pounding.

And at that moment, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Something heavy crashed down from the roof right on the armed mercenary. He screamed and fell unconscious on the asphalt. The second jerked, raised his weapon, but a low, hoarse voice came from the shadows.

"Men with guns.. do you think you'll feel like kings?"

A red armband flashed in the semi-darkness. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, fists ready to break bones. Green skin glistened in the light of the street lamp, and his eyes glowed like coals.

He stepped forward, and the mercenary fired. The bullets bounced off the wall, sparks flying. Raph ducked, darted over, and slammed his fist into the enemy's jaw with a dull thud. He flew off, hitting the bricks, and fell silent.

The silence returned so abruptly that your ears began to ring.

You stood pressed against the wall, unable to even breathe.

Raphael turned around. His gaze fell on you, wary, heavy. It was as if he had scanned you in a split second, scared, alive, but trapped.

"Who are you?" — he growled low, but without malice.

"I.. I'm nothing.. I just.." — Your words were tangled, your breathing ragged.

Raph approached, his footsteps echoing loudly in the alley. He looked at the bodies of the mercenaries lying on the ground, then back at you. There was irritation mixed with concern in his voice.

"Damn. Now they'll definitely come for you."

His hand twitched, as if he was going to grab you by the shoulder and drag you away. But he stopped, frowned, and only said.

"If you want to survive, follow me."