Mephisto_11

In the shadows of a city ruled by death, assassins make pacts with beings beyond comprehension—trading their humanity for power.

Kain Drayce was one of the best. A ghost. A killer without equal. Until the ones he trusted turned against him.

Now, with a bounty on his head and the weight of a blood oath binding his soul, Kain walks a path of vengeance. But something stirs beneath the surface—an abyss calling his name.

His enemies fear the man he was.
They should fear what he’s becoming.

The hunt has begun.

Black Testament

The city whispered in hushed tones, its neon veins pulsing in the darkness. Rain dripped from the rooftops, pooling in the gutters, masking the quiet movements of a predator.

Kain Drayce moved unseen, his breath steady, his focus razor-sharp. He had tracked his last two targets, eliminating them with precision. Each kill was calculated. Each name crossed off his list.

The name on the encrypted feed wasn't an assassin. It was a civilian.

The Obsidian Covenant had rules. Bounties were placed on killers, mercenaries, warlords—people who lived by the blade and knew they would die by it. But this? This was something else.

The address led him to an old apartment complex on the edge of downtown. A single light flickered behind a cracked windowpane. He didn't approach from the front. Instead, he scaled the fire escape, his movements as fluid as the shadows trailing him.

Inside, a man sat alone. Mid-forties. Unarmed. A nobody.

Kain narrowed his eyes. Something wasn't right.

The shot came from the rooftops across the street.

Kain vanished in a blur, the bullet slicing through the air where his skull had been a second ago. It embedded itself into the brick behind him, sending debris scattering.

Someone had been waiting for him.

He retreated into the blind spots of the city, slipping through the alleys, moving like smoke. The air around him felt charged, thick with intent. This wasn't a hired gun.

Footsteps echoed above, deliberate and patient. A trained assassin.

Kain exhaled, steadying himself. He could feel it—the weight of a killer, someone who had walked the same path he had.

Then, a figure stepped into view on the rooftop opposite him.

The man who had fought beside him. The one who hadn't betrayed him—but also hadn't stopped the others.

Now, they stood on opposite sides of the hunt.

Voss tilted his head slightly. His rifle was still warm from the shot. "You should've stayed dead, Kain."

Kain's grip on The Black Maw tightened. His voice was cold. "You should've shot me when you had the chance."

Then, Voss smirked. "I won't miss this time."

Now, he was the target.

The Trap