The sterile, cold walls of the containment cell loomed over Mike, their unyielding gray surface a stark reminder of his imprisonment. He paced back and forth, his movements sharp and agitated, the weight of his anguish growing heavier with every step. The air in the cell felt suffocating, thick with the stench of antiseptic and despair. His thoughts churned with a bitter rage, a force that had been simmering for weeks and now threatened to consume him entirely.

Pain had become a constant companion, the price of the transformation that had reshaped him into a weapon—a perfect hunter. But the agony of his altered body paled in comparison to the raw torment of his grief. The anger that burned within him was no longer aimless. It had found a target: revenge.

The news that shattered him arrived like a knife to the gut, a revelation so cruel that it left him breathless. His family—the people he had loved, fought for, and dreamed of seeing again—were dead. They had been killed in the Battle of Death, their lives extinguished in the chaos unleashed by the Black Angel and High Rise Devil.

Mike had endured unimaginable suffering in the name of survival, but the loss of his family was a wound too deep to heal. They weren’t just casualties of war; they were victims of a twisted game, pawns in a massacre orchestrated by forces beyond his control. His parents had been among the first to fall, their deaths swift and merciless.

The news came from a desperate survivor—a former criminal who had clung to life long enough to relay the grim fate of Mike’s family. The man’s words were a dagger to Mike’s heart. The revelation left him numb at first, his mind struggling to process the weight of the truth. But numbness soon gave way to rage, a fury so intense that it threatened to consume him.

His parents were gone. Their names, their faces, their laughter—everything he had cherished—were lost in the ashes of a ruined city. Their deaths weren’t accidents; they were the deliberate result of a world gone mad. The Black Angel and High Rise Devil had done this, and they had done it without remorse.

Mike’s grief transformed into something else—a fire that burned hotter with every passing moment. The rage was no longer just an emotion. It became his purpose, his fuel, his weapon.

Standing in the center of his stark white containment cell, he stared at the dull metal table and the cold steel bed, their lifeless presence mocking him. The facility that housed him had been his prison for far too long, a place where his humanity had been stripped away piece by piece. The experiments, the pain, the relentless trials—they had reshaped him into something unrecognizable.

"They'll pay for this," he growled, his voice low and venomous.

His fists clenched, his long talons digging into his palms as he envisioned the faces of his enemies. He had become stronger, faster, more lethal than anyone could have imagined. The scientists who had tampered with his body had created a predator, and now, they would reap the consequences of their actions.

The door to his containment cell stood as a symbol of his captivity—a heavy, reinforced steel barrier designed to hold even the most dangerous of creatures. But Mike was no longer a prisoner. He was a force of nature, an apex predator on the hunt.

With a swift motion, his talons slashed through the door’s locking mechanism. Sparks flew as the metal groaned under the pressure of his strength. The barrier buckled and gave way, the sound of its collapse echoing through the sterile corridors of the facility. Mike stepped through the opening, his movements fluid and purposeful.

The halls beyond were eerily silent, their stark lighting casting long shadows that danced with each flicker of the fluorescent bulbs. Mike moved with the precision of a hunter, his enhanced senses guiding him. Every sound, every shift in the air, was amplified, feeding his awareness.

He encountered his first obstacle—a guard rounding the corner, his footsteps hesitant. Before the man could react, Mike struck. His talons tore through flesh with ruthless efficiency, silencing the guard before he could raise an alarm. The body slumped to the floor, a lifeless reminder of Mike’s newfound lethality.

There was no hesitation in his actions, no flicker of doubt. Each step brought him closer to his goal. The Black Angel and High Rise Devil were out there, and they would pay for the lives they had destroyed.

The facility was vast, a labyrinth of corridors and locked doors, but Mike’s instincts guided him. He moved like a shadow, his presence felt but never seen. The scientists and guards he encountered were mere obstacles, dispatched with cold precision. Blood stained his path, a trail of vengeance that marked his escape.

Finally, he reached the heart of the facility. The final barrier stood before him—a reinforced steel door, bolted shut and seemingly impenetrable. But Mike was no longer bound by the limits of human strength. With a growl that resonated through the halls, he drove his talons into the door. Metal screamed in protest as he tore it apart, piece by piece, until the way was clear.

Beyond the door lay freedom. The world outside stretched into the darkness, vast and unfamiliar. The cold night air hit him like a wave, carrying with it the scent of earth and freedom. For a moment, he stood still, his chest heaving as he took in his surroundings.

But there was no time for hesitation. The hunt had begun.

The Black Angel and High Rise Devil were his targets, and nothing would stand in his way. Mike’s mind was set, his purpose clear. They had taken everything from him, but they had made one fatal mistake: they had left him alive.

As he stepped into the darkness, the transformation within him was complete. He was no longer the man who had entered the facility weeks ago. He was something more—something darker, deadlier.

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His red eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a testament to the predator he had become. The fire of vengeance burned within him, guiding his every move. The world may have fallen apart, but Mike had found his purpose.

He would hunt them down. He would make them pay.

And this time, there would be no escape.

The night air tasted different to Mike—crisp, alive with the sharp tang of ozone, the kind of air that only existed outside the sterile walls of a containment facility. His heightened senses were alive, attuned to the world around him. He could hear the distant hum of city life, the faint rustling of leaves in the wind, and the soft thrum of his own pulse. Everything felt amplified, magnified by the brutal transformation he had undergone. The world seemed more vibrant, more detailed, yet every shadow seemed to whisper of danger.

The taste of freedom, however fleeting, stirred something deep within him. But there was no time to savor it, no time to bask in the sense of liberation. He had a mission, a singular, consuming goal that he could not ignore. The Black Angel and High Rise Devil were still out there, and the thought of their freedom, their escape from the carnage, ignited a new flame of rage within him.

They had done it. They had survived the Battle of Death, slipping away from the wreckage of Haelgar like ghosts, leaving behind a city destroyed and families broken. His family—his parents—had been among the countless victims. Their names would never be more than whispers in the wind, a footnote in the tragic history of Haelgar. And Mike had been left with nothing but a thirst for vengeance, a hunger that would only be quenched by their blood.

But there was a problem—an undeniable truth that gnawed at him even as he began to move forward. They were long gone. The Black Angel and High Rise Devil had escaped, vanishing into the night like specters. No one knew where they had gone, what they had planned, or if they would ever return to finish what they had started. Their names had become legends, their deeds whispered about in hushed tones, but the two killers were nowhere to be found.

Mike had been left in the wake of their destruction, a broken man, transformed into a living weapon, with nothing but his grief and his rage to drive him forward. But with their escape, there was no clear path. There was no one to lead him to them. They had planned for their escape long before the city had fallen, leaving behind nothing but a trail of destruction and bodies. The world had shifted into a place he barely recognized, where shadows moved like monsters and even the most hardened killers were nothing but prey.

His talons clicked on the concrete beneath his feet as he walked through the deserted streets, the flickering streetlights casting long, eerie shadows across the wreckage. Buildings that once stood as symbols of power now lay in ruins, their facades shattered, their skeletons standing like tombstones to a forgotten age. The smell of burning metal and decay hung in the air, the stench of the battle that had consumed Haelgar.

He had no clear destination, no map to follow. The city was a maze of crumbling streets and hidden passageways, a labyrinth of destruction that mirrored his fractured mind. Yet, even in the chaos, his instincts guided him—his body honed to hunt, to track, to kill. The world had changed, but his purpose had not. He would find them, no matter the cost.

In the distance, a sound broke the silence—a low rumble, the sound of tires on cracked pavement. Mike’s red eyes narrowed, and he instinctively crouched low, his senses straining to identify the source. A convoy of vehicles appeared around the corner, moving with precision, their engines growling in the stillness of the night. They were mercenaries, hired hands, no doubt hired to secure what was left of the city’s broken infrastructure or perhaps to protect the remnants of Haelgar’s leadership.

Mike’s claws flexed, his lips curling into a snarl. Mercenaries weren’t the Black Angel or High Rise Devil, but they were a distraction—another obstacle to eliminate. He could feel his blood heat with the anticipation of violence, his body primed for action. It wasn’t enough just to kill them; he wanted them to know that he was no longer the same man they had once known. He was a predator now, a force beyond their comprehension.

He waited in the shadows, watching as the convoy approached. The vehicles slowed as they neared a makeshift barricade, a group of survivors attempting to set up a perimeter in what remained of the city. The convoy’s lead vehicle came to a halt, and figures spilled out onto the broken pavement, their weapons drawn. It was then that Mike struck.

With a speed that would have been impossible for any normal man, he moved, slashing through the first mercenary’s throat before they even had time to raise an alarm. Blood sprayed into the air as the man crumpled to the ground, a guttural scream cut short. The other mercenaries fumbled for their weapons, but Mike was already upon them. His claws raked through armor, his talons cutting through flesh and bone with ease. The survivors, who had hoped for protection, scattered in terror, but it was too late. Mike was the storm, and they were nothing but dust in its wake.

It didn’t take long for the convoy to be reduced to a bloody massacre, the sound of gunfire and the thud of bodies hitting the ground ringing through the air. When the carnage ended, Mike stood amidst the wreckage, his red eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of violence. He hadn’t just killed them. He had sent a message—a warning. If anyone stood in his way, they would meet the same fate.

But this was only a brief diversion. The Black Angel and High Rise Devil were still out there, hidden somewhere in the wreckage of Haelgar. They were ghosts, their very existence a cruel reminder of his helplessness. But Mike would not rest until he found them. The rage that burned inside him could not be extinguished. He would track them to the ends of the Earth if he had to. There was no escaping him—not anymore.

As he moved through the broken streets, his mind wandered back to the news he had received—the message from the survivor, the last breath of hope for anyone who had survived the Battle of Death. They had killed his family. They had destroyed everything Mike had cared about. And they were still out there, free to continue their reign of terror.

He clenched his fists, his claws digging into his palms. He had been broken once before, but now he was something different. He had become the weapon he had been turned into, a tool of destruction and vengeance. He was no longer human. He was something far worse.

The thought of the Black Angel and High Rise Devil brought a primal scream to his lips, but he held it back. His mind was cold, calculating. He could feel the pull of his instincts, the desire to hunt, to kill. But he couldn’t lose focus. Not now.

Somewhere in the depths of Haelgar, buried beneath the rubble, were two killers who had shaped the city’s fate. And Mike would make sure they paid for every life they had destroyed. He would hunt them down, one by one, until nothing remained but the shattered remnants of their empire.

For now, though, he had to keep moving. Every step took him closer to the truth, closer to the ultimate confrontation. The Black Angel and High Rise Devil were out there, but they couldn’t hide forever. And when Mike found them, when their faces were finally within his reach, there would be no mercy.

He would be the last thing they saw. And they would regret ever escaping Haelgar’s wreckage.

The hunt had begun.