The rain slicked streets of New Helix gleamed under neon signs that flickered like dying stars. Matteo Cross crouched atop the glass-and-steel spire of the Zentra Tower, the city sprawling beneath him like a bleeding circuit board. Somewhere down there, the target waited—Jared Lorne, corporate executive, rumored human trafficker, and someone who had made enough enemies to fill a graveyard twice over. Matteo didn’t care about justice, only the pay.The wind bit through his leather coat, carrying the stench of smoke and sewage. He glanced at the tiny vial strapped to his wrist—containing a serum that would make him invisible to the building’s AI surveillance for six minutes. That was all he needed. Timing was everything.He leapt. The world blurred. Rain stung his face, and the ledge below seemed closer than physics allowed. Landing silently, he rolled across the narrow rooftop, boots splashing through puddles that reflected the city’s neon glow. From above, he looked like a shadow deta

The neon city groaned beneath the rain. New Helix never slept, and tonight, it screamed. Matteo Cross moved like a ghost, slipping through back alleys, scaling fire escapes, and vanishing down maintenance shafts that led him closer to the Syndicate’s shadowed heart.He didn’t yet know why they were after him—he only knew that their surveillance had tightened. Street cameras flickered and blinked in unusual patterns, drone silhouettes darted past his vision, and faint signals pinged through his communicator. Someone knew he had faced a Wraith. And that someone wanted it—and him.He reached the edge of the Syndicate’s territory, a cluster of high-rise complexes wrapped in neon and steel. From above, the lights made the buildings look like jagged teeth biting the clouds. Matteo’s target tonight: one of the Syndicate’s lieutenants rumored to control illegal tech experiments in the city—experiments tied to Wraith manifestations.Rain dripped from the eaves above as Matteo crouched on a roo

The rain had slowed to a fine drizzle, leaving New Helix glimmering like a circuit board under fractured neon. Matteo Cross perched on a fire escape, overlooking the streets below. His coat clung to him, soaked through, and the hum of the city was alive with tension—sirens, distant screams, and the low, unsettling whispers of Wraiths that lingered in the corners.Father Malachi’s words echoed in his mind: “Survival is not enough. You will be the battlefield.” Matteo didn’t fully understand what that meant yet, but he was beginning to sense it. The Syndicate wasn’t just hunting him—they were testing him, pushing him toward something larger, something darker.He glanced at the street below. Syndicate scouts moved in precise patterns, drones hovering above, casting pale blue light over the wet asphalt. And somewhere among them, the Wraiths were hiding, ready to strike.Matteo dropped silently to the street, boots hitting puddles with muted splashes. He moved like a shadow, weaving betwee

The city below hissed under the rain, neon signs flickering like dying stars. Matteo crouched atop a derelict rooftop, surveying the streets and alleyways. The Syndicate’s operatives had regrouped after his ambush in the tunnels, and the Wraiths were learning. Every encounter sharpened their instincts, making them more unpredictable.Matteo ran a hand along the hilt of his blade, feeling the faint pulse of the cross-shaped engraving. Not just a weapon—it was a tether, a warning, a subtle whisper from the relic somewhere deep in Father Malachi’s hands. It hummed faintly, guiding him toward action.He dropped silently to a fire escape, landing in the shadows. From here, he could see the first Syndicate patrol: three operatives, armed and enhanced, moving in precise patterns through a rain-slick alley. Beyond them, a flicker of black mist twisted unnaturally in the neon reflection—the Wraiths had come too, converging for the strike.Matteo’s plan formed quickly. He wasn’t going to run. N

Rain lashed against the spire’s windows, the city below a blur of neon rivers. Matteo crouched atop a metal girder jutting from the Syndicate tower, eyes scanning the floors beneath him. Every level was alive with movement—Syndicate operatives, Wraiths, security drones—and he knew one misstep would cost him his life.The relic pulsed faintly in his mind, a whisper of warmth guiding him. It wasn’t just a tool; it was a compass, a subtle tether to something beyond, urging him toward action and survival.He dropped silently onto the roof, rolling into cover behind an HVAC unit. From above, a massive shadow detached itself from the upper floors—the Wraith commander he had glimpsed before. Larger than any he’d faced, its form coalesced with sharp edges, eyes glowing faintly in the storm.Matteo’s blade hummed as he gripped it tighter. He knew he couldn’t fight alone. The city itself—the shadows, the structural decay, the storm—would have to become his ally.The first wave came from the nor