The city felt like it was drowning. Rain battered down in sheets, a ceaseless torrent that washed the grime from the streets but not the sins. Neon signs flickered sporadically, their electric glow struggling against the downpour. Max Hartwell pulled his coat tighter, the collar up to fend off the worst of the weather. He stalked through the narrow alleys, a shadow among shadows.
He had been on the trail of the Syndicate for weeks, a relentless pursuit that had worn him thin but honed his resolve. Tonight, everything would change. Carmen had given him the key, a lead so sharp it could cut through the murk of the city's underbelly.