The control room’s chaos had barely settled when Matteo sensed it—a movement distinct from the Wraiths, deliberate, and enormous. From the far corner of the room, a shadow separated itself, into different parts rising taller than the cables and support beams, black mist joining together into a form almost humanoid but impossibly wide, with multiple limbs writhing like serpents.The relic pulsed violently, almost like a heartbeat. It was warning him.From the ceiling, the creature leapt, landing with a force that shook the floor. Dust and debris fell, and the neon lights flickered. Matteo rolled forward, blade ready, sparks flying where his cross-engraved weapon met the first tendril.The Syndicate lieutenant groaned painfully on the floor, still unconscious, as the Wraith commander reformed partially, hissing and curling its tendrils toward Matteo. He had no choice—this was now a fight against the apex predator of the tower, and the relic’s warmth barely noticeable guided him toward e

The spire trembled under the storm, neon reflections shimmering across shattered glass like a thousand broken dreams. Matteo crouched on a steel beam jutting from the apex floor, scanning the chaos below. Wraiths stirred in the shadows, tendrils curling along walls, floors, and vents like living smoke, hungry for their next victim. The Syndicate’s elite operatives were scattered, regrouping, eyes glowing with cybernetic precision, their training and technology no match for the supernatural forces they faced.The relic pulsed, faint warmth threading through his mind, guiding each movement, each strike. The mysterious figure’s presence lingered on the rooftop above, white light flaring faintly in the storm, a beacon of hope in the darkness. Matteo felt it—subtle encouragement, a rhythm to follow, almost a silent partner in this deadly dance.He leapt down onto a shattered platform, rolling over twisted metal and debris. A Wraith surged toward him, tendrils lashing like whips, its presen

Matteo stepped out of the spire’s apex chamber into the neon-lit chaos of the city below. The storm hadn’t let up; rain streaked across the streets, turning them into reflective rivers of light. Distant sirens screamed, punctuated by gunfire and the faint hissing of Wraiths lurking in the alleys.The relic pulsed violently in his hand, warm and insistent, almost like a heartbeat. It was urging him forward, not just to fight, but to lead, to act with purpose beyond survival."This city… it’s worse than I imagined," he muttered, scanning the rooftops for threats.A voice echoed from above—a faint, calm resonance that made the hairs on his neck stand up. "The sins are everywhere. They will test you, Confessor. Do not falter.""I don’t intend to," Matteo replied, though he knew this was just the beginning.From the street below, Syndicate operatives began emerging from shadows, cybernetic enhancements glinting under neon lights. Wraiths slithered along walls, their tendrils reaching towar

The streets of the lower district were a storm of chaos. Neon reflections shimmered on wet asphalt, punctuated by the screams of Wraiths and the mechanical screech of Syndicate reinforcements. Matteo sprinted across crumbling rooftops, blade in hand, eyes fixed on the towering silhouette emerging from the haze.It was massive—black and gold shadow limbs, eyes glowing molten, tendrils writhing like serpents. Each movement caused the street below to quake. Civilians scattered, screaming, as Syndicate operatives scrambled to contain the creature."This… this isn’t natural," one operative shouted, raising a rifle."No," Matteo muttered, blade spinning, slicing a Wraith mid-air. "But it can be fought."From above, the mysterious figure hovered on a rooftop, staff glowing faintly. "It tests you, Confessor. Not just strength, but judgment. Strike where it falters.""Judgment… right," Matteo replied, leaping down into the chaos.The colossal shadow lunged, tendrils smashing into a parked car,

Rain hammered the broken street as Matteo shoved himself upright, ribs aching where the titan had slammed him into the ground. Mist churned ahead, thickening before forming into the Wraith commander. Its jagged grin stretched too wide.“You’re still standing? I expected you to stay down with the rest of the weak.”Matteo spat blood into the puddles. “Then you don’t know me.”“I know you perfectly,” the Wraith hissed. “A killer pretending to be righteous. A butcher hoping for forgiveness.”Matteo tightened his grip on the Confessor’s Blade. “Keep talking. It won’t save you.”“I don’t need saving—you do.”A tendril slammed into the street, sending cracks spiderwebbing outward. Matteo dodged, rolling through rainwater and broken glass. He surged back to his feet, blade slicing through a smaller tendril. It dissolved with a sizzling hiss.Above them, the titan roared again—louder, angrier—shaking windows from surrounding buildings.A faint glow flickered on a balcony high above. The myste