New Green was a city of sounds.
By day, the rumble of traffic and the chatter of crowds. By night, the maniac's laughter echoing through empty streets, followed by the screams of his victims.
Tonight, a man named Max had silenced that laughter.
But the silence didn't last.
The laugh returned, but something had changed. It was wilder now, more chaotic—as if the real monster had finally awakened from a deep sleep.
"I thought you were some kind of weakling by your look." The maniac's voice dripped with dark amusement. "Looks like I made a mistake."
Max's eyes narrowed. "You're welcome. Now give me everything you've got!"
The maniac vanished.
"What?!" Max's head snapped around. "He got faster—instantly?"
Too late.
The maniac appeared above him, descending like a bird of prey. The knife bound to his hand by chains gleamed in the dim streetlight, aimed to split Max in half.
"Oh, shit—" Max barely got the words out.
The blade came down with terrifying force.
Drops of blood hit the pavement.
The knife had struck Max's right hand. The cut wasn't deep, but it was enough.
Max seized the opening and threw a kick at the maniac's stomach.
The maniac twisted away, slipping just beyond range. In one fluid motion, he yanked the knife free and hurled it back at Max's eye.
Max caught it at the last second, fingers closing around the blade. He pulled it to his side, closing the distance.
The maniac vanished and reappeared behind him.
Max spun—or tried to.
His body wouldn't move.
Chains.
They'd already wrapped around him, binding him tight. The maniac raised his weapon, aiming for Max's neck.
"You didn't leave me a choice, Andrew."
A sudden burst of light.
The chains shattered.
When the light faded, the maniac lay on the ground, his body crushed beneath an invisible weight. Max stood over him, breathing hard. His clothes hung in tatters.
"I don't think even you're going to make it from that." Max's voice carried disappointment—but only for a moment.
A grin spread across his face. "Bye-bye. It was fun toying around with you!"
He turned to leave, then paused.
"Oh, I forgot to mention something." He glanced back. "You're probably wondering what just happened. If you're technically dead anyway, let me tell you the truth—"
He stopped.
The maniac was gone. Only a pool of blood remained.
SLICE!
A deep gash opened across Max's chest. Blood poured out, hot and fast. Not life-threatening—but close.
The maniac appeared behind him for a split second, then vanished again.
"Damn." Max pressed a hand to the wound. "I really didn't think it would come to this."
The maniac appeared above him once more, knife raised for the killing blow.
Max's lips moved, barely audible.
"The Dying Star."
Red flames erupted from his wounds. His body began to burn, heat radiating outward in waves.
The maniac sensed the danger immediately and changed trajectory mid-air. The moment his feet touched the ground, Max's leg crashed into his head with devastating force.
The maniac was sent flying through the walls of a nearby building, debris exploding outward.
Max stood in the center of the street, his body wreathed in flames. The fire consumed him from the inside out. If this didn't end soon, he would die.
Slowly, the maniac emerged from the rubble.
"Finally!" Max's voice was raw. "You woke up, you bastard!"
But the maniac wasn't laughing anymore.
He stumbled forward, took a few unsteady steps, and collapsed to his knees.
"Who... are you?"
The voice was different now. Quieter. Confused.
It was Andrew—the real Andrew—finally awake.
The flames in Max's wounds flickered and died. He staggered backward and slumped against a nearby wall, his strength draining away.
"Who I am doesn't matter." His voice was fading. "I came here to tell you the truth, but... I think it's already too late."
He forced himself to continue. "Listen. There's a place... where you can find everything in this world. Whatever you're searching for, Andrew—you'll find it there."
Andrew's eyes rolled back. He collapsed.
"I hope you'll change it," Max whispered. "The Fate."
Cold crept through his body, spreading from his wounds. His vision blurred.
"But until then... stay alive."
His eyes began to close.
"They'll come for you, Andrew." His voice was barely a breath now. "Don't die. No matter what... don't die."
The city's sounds returned—distant sirens, the hum of streetlights.
And then, silence.