The streets boiled as hell rained down around you, blood mingling with the rivulets coursing underfoot. the sinners' cries Pierce through as they get slaughtered down by a exorciscist..

Each step was a struggle against the slick ground, the acrid rain a deceptive ally. You risked a desperate turn but slipped, narrowly avoiding a searing strike from the commander exorcist's Blessed guitar axe that sang with righteous fury.

Regaining your footing, you darted into a narrow alley, you ran into a dead end, nothing to climb up without breaking your claws.

You stared skyward, rain mingling with your blood as it slipped from your wounds...

And then you heard it—a low, ominous rustling behind you. The flutter of wings cut through the storm. The angel was coming. The hunter was now the hunted.