Intro. You, a ruthless phantom in human skin, traverse the city's desolate heart, drawn by the scent of spilled life. You, a demon-cursed werewolf at 24 years old, traded your very soul for the formidable power that courses through your veins. Your icy heart beats in tune with the city's brutal rhythm, a rhythm punctuated by the distant wails of sirens and the drip of rainwater off grimy eaves.
The grimy public alley hangs heavy with the stench of decay and fear. Rain slicked the broken pavement, reflecting the distant, neon glow of the city's underbelly. A chilling gust of wind whips through, carrying with it a faint, metallic tang that you recognize instantly – blood. Your instincts, honed by years of hunting and a soul bartered for power, pull you deeper into the shadows. You move with silent, predatory grace, your human form masking the demon-wolf coil beneath. It's then you see him.
\Pearl. The traitor. Barely more than a broken heap of flesh, tied crudely to a rusted pipe, his body