Ray had been learning, adapting, and becoming something he couldn’t even recognize at times. But a gnawing sense of doubt had begun to settle in. As he continued his brutal training, and completed his missions with ruthless efficiency, something didn’t sit right with him. SAAHO had always been cloaked in mystery. The organization’s methods, its ultimate goals, and most importantly, its alliances—all of it felt like a puzzle that only had pieces missing when he tried to put it together.
The hallways outside his room stretched long and silent, the faint echo of his soft footsteps breaking the stillness. Ray moved cautiously, his every nerve on edge, until he reached the file room. The door creaked open under his hand, revealing shelves that loomed like silent sentinels, packed with files of all shapes and sizes. A computer sat in the corner, its screen blinking faintly, almost inviting him to uncover the secrets hidden within.
Ray hesitated. The walls of SAAHO were designed to keep its inner workings secret, and yet here he was—ready to break its most sacred rule. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but with a deep breath, he overpowered his caution and began to type. The computer whirred softly, bringing up a list of files. The screen filled with technical jargon, data on tactical armor, weapons schematics, and mission reports. Everything in his training had led him to this moment—the moment where knowledge could be a weapon.
But one file stood out from the rest: “SAAHO Scientist Findings.” Its title seemed innocuous enough, but something about it sent a chill down his spine. Ray couldn’t resist. Compelled by an unshakable need to know, he clicked it open.
The screen filled with data, graphs, and a detailed description of something far darker than Ray had expected. He read quickly, each line revealing a terrifying truth.
Rage Toxin
The Rage Toxin is a synthetic drug derived from a blend of cutting-edge biochemistry and ancient alchemical principles. Designed to unlock hidden potential within the human body, it pushes physical limits far beyond natural thresholds—but at a deadly price.
Effects During Activation:
- Enhanced Physical Strength: Amplifies muscular performance to superhuman levels, enabling users to lift several times their body weight and deliver blows capable of shattering bones or breaking through reinforced barriers.
- Increased Speed and Reflexes: Users move with unnatural speed, reacting to threats almost instinctively, dodging attacks that would normally be unavoidable.
- Heightened Pain Tolerance: The toxin numbs pain receptors, allowing users to endure injuries that would incapacitate an ordinary person. Wounds such as broken bones or deep cuts are ignored while the toxin is active.
- Unmatched Endurance: Fatigue is temporarily erased, enabling users to perform grueling tasks without pause for the ten-minute duration of the toxin’s effects.
Behavioral Changes:
- Uncontrollable Rage: Rational thought is overridden by primal instincts, turning the user into a berserker consumed by fury. Friend and foe become indistinguishable targets.
- Tunnel Vision: The user focuses solely on destruction, making them relentless but predictable in combat.
Aftermath and Consequences:
- Physical Collapse: Once the effects wear off, users experience extreme exhaustion, often collapsing. Overstimulated muscles feel as though they’re on fire, rendering the user immobile for hours.
- Vulnerability: The ensuing weakness leaves users defenseless, with muscle fatigue, trembling limbs, and, in severe cases, temporary paralysis.
- Potential Organ Damage: Repeated use can cause irreversible damage to the heart, liver, and nervous system. In some cases, users experience seizures or heart failure.
Creation and Purpose: The Rage Toxin was engineered by Team Beta, a subdivision of SAAHO, tasked with pushing the boundaries of human potential. Despite its potential, the toxin’s creation reflects a willingness to sacrifice humanity for power. It manipulates the brain’s limbic system and enhances muscle performance, transforming even the weakest operative into a force of destruction.
Ray’s pulse quickened as he read through the details. His mind raced with thoughts and memories, each piece falling into place. “This explains it,” he whispered, his eyes locked on the words. The Rage Toxin—an illicit substance designed to enhance the human body to monstrous levels—was real, and it was created by the very organization he served.
Suddenly, memories of Michael’s fight with Doku flashed through his mind. The violence, the way Michael had taken blow after blow without flinching, rising again and again, unfazed by the damage. Ray had always marveled at Michael’s resilience, but now it clicked. For a moment, he wondered if the Rage Toxin had been Michael’s secret weapon—if Michael had been using it all along to enhance his own physical prowess.
But then the truth hit him. Michael didn’t need the toxin. Every ounce of strength, every act of defiance in that fight had come from Michael’s sheer willpower, from his mind, his experience, and his unrelenting drive. Ray had witnessed it firsthand—the way Michael pushed through everything with only his body and grit to sustain him.
Ray leaned back in the chair, a mix of awe and disbelief washing over him. “Damn... Michael’s more of a beast than I thought,” he muttered under his breath. It was a humbling realization, but also a sobering one.
Ray had always seen Michael as the pinnacle of what he could achieve, but now he understood that Michael’s greatness didn’t come from enhancements. It came from the control of his own mind and body. Ray could feel his desire to push himself further, to become something even more monstrous, intensify. But as the words of his mentors—particularly Kaizen—echoed in his mind, Ray found himself questioning the very path he had chosen.
This, the Rage Toxin, was the very thing that could have corrupted everything that Michael stood for. Ray’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he tried to process what he had uncovered. If SAAHO had been playing with human potential on this level, how far had they gone with other experiments? What else were they hiding?
As he sat there in the dim light, Ray felt the weight of the moment sink into him. He wasn’t just an assassin anymore—he was entangled in something much larger, something more dangerous than even he could fathom. The questions still swirled in his mind, but now, they were darker. What was SAAHO truly after? Was this the only dangerous creation they had unleashed on the world, or was there more to uncover?
But more than that, Ray now understood his next move. He couldn’t just play the game by the rules anymore—he had to find out the truth, no matter what it took. The very fabric of SAAHO was beginning to unravel in front of him, and for the first time, Ray felt the growing certainty that the path he walked had consequences far beyond his understanding.
With that thought, Ray closed the file and rose from the desk, the weight of the knowledge sitting heavily on his shoulders. The darkness in him, the monster he was becoming, was now intertwined with the mystery of his organization. And it was a dark road he was prepared to walk, no matter where it led.
Yet his curiosity burned brighter. Ray scrolled through the list of files, the names of enemies and missions flickering on the screen like ghosts of a future he wasn’t sure he was prepared for. But there was one file that caught his eye, standing out like a dark star in the galaxy of information. A simple name: Doku. His breath caught in his throat as his fingers hovered over the file. He had heard whispers of Doku, but the file was sealed away, and no one ever mentioned him directly. Ray had to know. His body ached with an unfamiliar sensation—fear, perhaps, but curiosity was stronger.
Ray clicked it open, the screen loading slowly, as if even the computer knew that this was something he wasn’t ready for. The words that appeared were as terrifying as they were clinical, like the notes of a scientist who had studied something too dangerous to exist.
Doku is a sinister and enigmatic figure feared across the lands. His mastery of toxins, unique physiology, and combat prowess make him a formidable adversary. A shadow in the night, he strikes swiftly and lethally, leaving devastation in his wake.
Ray’s fingers trembled as he scrolled through the file, trying to absorb the full scope of what he was reading. The descriptions of Doku’s abilities were nothing short of horrifying.
Abilities:
- Mastery over 600 types of venom and poison: Natural venoms and synthetic poisons, crafted to paralyze, hallucinate, corrode, or kill in seconds. The file described how Doku could alter the chemical makeup of his toxins on the fly, customizing poisons tailored to specific targets.
- Venomous Mist: Doku could release a gaseous poison to incapacitate whole groups of enemies, rendering them helpless in seconds. The thought of facing that made Ray’s stomach churn.
- Immunity: Years of self-experimentation had rendered Doku immune to all known poisons. He could inject venom into his body and remain unscathed, an abomination of nature.
Physiology:
- Enhanced Strength and Agility: Doku’s natural strength exceeded that of most warriors, and his agility was equally unmatched. It wasn’t just raw muscle—his body was honed for lethal speed, making him nearly impossible to track or hit.
- Regenerative Capabilities: Doku could heal from injuries that would kill an ordinary person. His body mended itself at an unnatural pace, including even deep internal organ damage.
- Snake-like Traits: His skin was like scales—tough enough to deflect blades and bullets. In combat, when a scale was damaged, Doku could shed it like a snake shedding old skin, revealing fresh, nearly invulnerable layers beneath.
Senses:
- Acute Olfactory System: Doku could track enemies by the chemical signature they left behind. The thought of someone being able to sense your presence, no matter where you hid, made Ray’s chest tighten.
- Thermal Vision: Doku could see heat signatures in the dark, making him nearly impossible to escape from if he was hunting you.
Offensive Capabilities:
- Snake-like Fangs: Doku could inject venom into his enemies during grapples or close combat. One bite could mean death.
- Martial Arts Mastery: His combat style was a deadly blend of fluid, snake-like movements and brutal precision. His strikes were so fast and so precise that they could overwhelm even the most skilled fighters.
Psychological Warfare:
Doku was not just a physical threat—he was a psychological one as well. His presence alone unnerved his enemies, sowing fear before any physical battle even began. His reptilian demeanor, the way his eyes glinted like a predator’s, shattered any remaining resolve in his opponents. His mastery of toxins was only a part of the battle—Doku was a force of nature, a creature that turned fear itself into a weapon.
Ray stared at the screen, his stomach twisting into knots. The cold, clinical descriptions of Doku’s abilities only heightened the sense of unease that had been building inside him. Each word seemed to confirm that Doku was more than a man. He was a monster. A force of nature that could turn the tide of any battle in an instant.
“Damn,” Ray whispered, his voice barely audible. "He’s built different." A chill ran down his spine. No one could stand against a man like that and expect to survive—no one except for the absolute best. The thought of facing someone like Doku—more monster than human—sent a shiver down his spine. The intensity of his intelligence, combined with his brutal, inhuman physical prowess, made Doku an unparalleled threat.
Ray swallowed hard, realizing that this was no ordinary enemy. Doku was a shadow, a nightmare that didn’t just kill—you couldn’t even trust your own senses around him. The way he turned every fight into a battle of wills, stripping away the strength of his enemies before they even lifted a finger.
He could feel the weight of the file pressing down on him, a reflection of how much more dangerous the world had become. SAAHO was up against far worse enemies than he could have imagined.
Ray continued to scroll down, his fingers almost numb from the sheer weight of the information. The next file caught his attention: Tori no Ichizoku. Just reading the name sent a cold ripple of fear through him, and his mind flashed back to the warehouse, to the brutal fight he had participated in. The Tori no Ichizoku were not just enemies—they were a force that had been pulling the strings of the world from the shadows for years.
- Recruitment Process: New members are drawn from gangs and cartels, lured by promises of wealth and power. Initiation requires recruits to kill 3-5 people, often innocent civilians, as proof of loyalty to the organization.
- Training: Recruits are subjected to brutal training to enhance their combat endurance and strength. They are taught to fight not for survival but for dominance.
- Operations: The Tori no Ichizoku was involved in every form of criminal activity imaginable—murder, robbery, arms dealing, drug trafficking, and government corruption. They were a global network driven by the thirst for wealth, power, and the preservation of their empire.
The weight of this new knowledge hit Ray hard. For years, he had thought he understood the stakes of SAAHO’s mission. He had been prepared to face enemies—trained, skilled, ruthless, and deadly—but this... This was something else entirely. SAAHO wasn’t just fighting against enemies—it was waging a war against forces that thrived on chaos, destruction, and the manipulation of the human soul. They didn’t care about ideals. They cared only about control and dominance.
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Ray’s thoughts turned inward. He wasn’t ready for this—not yet. But he would be. He had to be. The burden of his training, his missions, and his purpose weighed down on him more than ever before. His heart raced as he realized how much he had yet to learn. The stakes were higher than he could’ve imagined. The lives of everyone he cared about—his mentors, his family, and himself—depended on what he did next.
With renewed determination, Ray shut the files and stood from his chair. The room felt colder now, almost suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on him. The weight of the organization’s secrets seemed to settle into his chest, each file holding more questions than answers. As he walked toward the door, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
The hallway outside his room felt infinite. As he moved down it, he knew what he had to do. He had to prepare. He had to become stronger, smarter, and faster than anyone else. The war ahead was bigger than he could have imagined, but he wasn’t going to run from it.
Ray didn’t just want to survive.
He wanted to win.
And to win, he needed to face his deepest fears and the terrifying enemies who stood in his way. He wasn’t just fighting for survival anymore—he was fighting for control over his destiny. The choices ahead were his to make.
Ray's Encounter
Ray stepped out of the bunker, his boots crunching softly against the cold asphalt, the sound sharp in the suffocating silence of the city night. There was something wrong—an oppressive stillness that clung to the air, as though the very world held its breath. The usual hum of the city’s heartbeat, the distant drone of traffic, the rustle of leaves or whispers of passersby, was absent. It was the kind of silence that made your skin crawl, the kind of silence that screamed warning.
The streetlights above him flickered weakly, their sickly glow casting jagged pools of yellow onto the abandoned streets, stretching long, eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. But something was off about those shadows. They moved. Twisted. Writhed like living things, bending in unnatural directions, as if they were part of something much darker, much older. And there was a smell—sharp and metallic—like the coppery tang of fresh blood, heavy in the air, suffocating.
Ray’s heart beat faster, a heavy thud in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him. Something hungry. His senses were on high alert as he walked, every instinct screaming at him to turn back, but his curiosity, that stubborn, defiant spark inside him, pushed him forward. Something’s wrong, he thought, his hands twitching at his sides.
Suddenly, the flickering lights above him went out. The world plunged into pitch blackness, as if the darkness had swallowed the street whole. Ray’s breath caught in his throat as a cold wind swept past him, its touch like icy fingers across his skin. And then—he heard it.
The unmistakable sound of heavy wings flapping. Slow. Methodical. A low, guttural growl followed, reverberating through the air, as though it came from the ground itself, vibrating Ray’s bones. His blood ran cold. The growl was not the sound of any creature he had ever encountered, not the growl of a predator—but something far worse, something ancient.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, every instinct screaming to run. But before he could even move, the lights above flickered back to life, their weak glow casting strange, flickering shadows over the street. And then, he saw it.
Akuma.
The monstrous figure stood in the middle of the street, as if he had materialized from the very darkness itself. He was towering, at least ten feet tall, his form an abomination of twisted flesh and nightmare. His body was a grotesque fusion of reptilian and avian features—dark, glistening scales covering his limbs and torso, each one reflecting the dim light like polished obsidian. His wings, massive and fearsome, stretched out behind him with a sickening grace, the wingspan easily 25 feet, their deep red feathers gleaming like blood-soaked steel.
Akuma’s face was a hideous mockery of humanity—his skin a sickly shade of dark, almost blackened gray, pulled tight over jagged bone. His mouth was a cavern of razor-sharp teeth, stained black with some unholy substance, while his eyes—oh, his eyes—burned like molten embers. There was no humanity left in those eyes. Only cold, infinite malice.
Ray froze. His body went numb. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to obey. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The terror that gripped him was paralyzing.
Akuma’s voice broke the silence, a deep, resonant growl that seemed to echo from the very pit of the earth itself. “Why are you out here?” His tone was low, almost hypnotic, each word dripping with quiet, venomous malice. It sent a tremor through Ray’s chest, the very air around him seeming to thicken, as though the world itself had turned against him.
Ray tried to swallow the lump in his throat but couldn’t. His breath was shallow, ragged. “I… I needed some air,” he stammered, the words feeling like they barely left his mouth. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it would burst from his chest.
Akuma’s head tilted slightly, the motion disturbingly serpentine, his eyes narrowing in an almost predatory way. Then, without warning, he stepped forward. Each of his talons clicked against the ground with a deliberate, terrifying cadence, like the ticking of a clock winding toward death. The air around him seemed to warp, warping reality itself as though Akuma was a breach in the fabric of the world. No, Ray thought, panic clawing at the back of his mind, I need to get out of here.
“Don’t lie to me, boy,” Akuma hissed, his voice so cold it made Ray’s skin crawl. “What were you doing in that bunker? What did you find?”
Ray’s heart skipped a beat. He had never felt more trapped. His mind raced, desperate to find some way out, some way to survive this encounter. His hands were trembling, the pulse in his neck a thundering drumbeat in his ears.
“I found information about… the Rage Toxin. That’s all,” he finally managed to choke out, his voice trembling with terror.
Akuma’s eyes flickered with something akin to amusement, but it was the kind of amusement you’d see on the face of a predator toying with its prey. He leaned in, his face mere inches from Ray’s, and for a moment, Ray thought his heart might stop entirely. The creature’s breath was hot and heavy, carrying the unmistakable scent of decay, and Ray could feel his stomach churn in revulsion.
“The Rage Toxin?” Akuma repeated, his voice dragging the words out as though savoring them. “And the research bases? Where are they?”
Ray’s mind went blank. He hadn’t found anything specific about the locations. He shook his head quickly, his mouth dry as dust. “I don’t know! The locations are classified. Even the files didn’t have that information,” he blurted, his voice cracking under the weight of Akuma’s unyielding gaze.
For a long, agonizing moment, there was nothing but the sound of Ray’s racing heartbeat. The world seemed to hold its breath, the silence stretching on forever. Ray felt his knees weaken, his body on the edge of collapse.
Akuma’s eyes, glowing with an otherworldly fire, bored into him. Ray could feel his soul being stripped bare, laid open for the beast to devour. And then, as quickly as it had come, the tension snapped. Akuma let out a low, guttural growl. The air around them seemed to warp with the force of it, making Ray’s bones ache with the intensity of the sound.
“You’re lucky, kid,” Akuma spat, his wings flaring violently before folding tightly against his back. He stepped back, his massive form towering over Ray, casting a long, monstrous shadow that seemed to swallow everything in its path. “If I find out you’re lying…” His voice dropped to a whisper, but it was the kind of whisper that made Ray’s blood freeze. “…there won’t be a second chance.”
With a single, fluid motion, Akuma spread his wings wide. The wind that rushed out from his wings was like the breath of the abyss itself, extinguishing the flickering streetlights once more, plunging the street back into darkness.
And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Akuma was gone.
Ray stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, his legs trembling uncontrollably. His breath came in ragged gasps as he leaned against the nearest wall for support. He was alone again. The air was thick with the scent of blood, the remnants of Akuma’s presence lingering like a dark cloud. His mind raced, trying to process the terror he had just witnessed.
He had been this close to dying.
The classified nature of SAAHO’s research bases had been his only saving grace tonight. But he knew that wouldn’t protect him forever. Akuma wasn’t just a monster—he was a predator, and Ray was now his prey.
The worst part? Ray didn’t think this was the last time he’d cross paths with Akuma.
And next time, Akuma wouldn’t be so merciful.
Ray stumbled into the bunker, his breath ragged, his body trembling from the intensity of what had just transpired. His mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, each one more horrifying than the last. But it wasn’t just the terror that consumed him—it was the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The cold dread that clung to him like a second skin, pressing down with every step.
He had never felt this way before. He had been through hell, seen things most people couldn’t even fathom, and survived. But tonight, that creature—Akuma Ma Tori—had shattered something deep inside him.
The door of the bunker slammed shut behind him, but it didn’t offer the comfort it once did. It only felt suffocating. The air was thick, heavy with the weight of the world. His chest heaved with each breath, his eyes stinging with tears he could no longer hold back. He hadn’t cried since he was a child—since before he was trained to kill, to survive—but now, in the aftermath of that encounter, the tears spilled over, as though his body had reached its breaking point.
Ray sank to the floor in the dimly lit corridor, his knees giving way beneath him. He pressed his face into his hands, trying to muffle the sobs wracking his body, but they came anyway. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that tore through him with a force he couldn’t control. The world he had fought so hard to survive in, the world he had tried to conquer through sheer force, was crumbling around him.
And it was all because of Akuma Ma Tori.
Kaizen was the first to notice. He had been sitting at his usual station, meticulously reviewing the data from the latest mission. His eyes, ever sharp, flicked up as Ray stumbled into the bunker. He could sense something was off immediately.
Ray’s posture was wrong—slumped, defeated. His shoulders hunched in a way that screamed exhaustion, but there was something more. Something unspoken. Kaizen's instincts had never failed him before, and they screamed now. He didn’t need to see Ray’s face to know that something had gone horribly wrong.
Kaizen stood, moving swiftly toward him. "Ray?" His voice, always calm and calculated, was laced with concern. "What happened?"
Ray couldn’t bring himself to look up. His entire body shook with each breath, and the tears kept coming, unrelenting, like a flood he couldn’t control. It was a stark contrast to the stoic, trained killer Kaizen knew. Ray had always been the one who was strong. Emotionless, if that was even possible for someone who had been forged in the crucible of combat.
But not tonight.
Kaizen knelt beside him, his gaze scanning the younger man’s disheveled appearance. His eyes narrowed, the sharpness of his mind kicking into overdrive. Ray was never one to break. Never. And yet, here he was—broken.
"Ray," Kaizen said again, this time more firmly. "Talk to me. What happened?"
It took a long moment for Ray to gather his thoughts, the weight of the horror still lingering in his chest like a suffocating cloud. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper, as if even speaking the words would make them real.
"I… I saw him, Kaizen," Ray’s voice cracked, thick with emotion. "I saw Akuma Ma Tori." He paused, his throat tightening. "He's… he's a monster, Kaizen. Worse than anything I’ve ever faced."
Kaizen’s expression remained unreadable, but inside, a chill swept over him. Akuma Ma Tori. The name alone carried a weight so heavy that even the air seemed to thicken with it.
Kaizen had heard the rumors, whispered in dark corners and behind closed doors, but hearing it from Ray… that brought the terror of it to life. Akuma was more than a name. He was a living nightmare—a twisted, grotesque figure who thrived on fear and pain, a being so powerful that even the most seasoned warriors feared to cross his path.
"Tell me what happened," Kaizen pressed, his tone gentle but insistent.
Ray swallowed hard, struggling to compose himself as he relived the encounter. The words tumbled out, faster now, as the memory of Akuma’s monstrous presence consumed him.
"I was out there," Ray started, his voice barely a whisper, "just trying to clear my head after all the tension… but something was wrong from the start. The city was too quiet. The shadows… they were alive, Kaizen. And then—then he was there. Akuma. He appeared in the middle of the street, like he had stepped out of the darkness itself."
Ray’s breath hitched as he remembered Akuma’s massive wings, their wingspan unfathomable, their red feathers shimmering like blood in the dim light. The hideous, human-like face, the glowing molten eyes that seemed to pierce into his soul.
"He spoke to me," Ray continued, his voice shaking. "He knew something was wrong. He knew I was hiding something. I could feel it, Kaizen. He wasn’t just looking for information—he was looking for weakness. He wanted to break me. And I almost… I almost didn’t make it out."
Kaizen’s eyes darkened with a mixture of concern and something deeper—something darker, perhaps a recognition of just how close Ray had come to losing everything. His mind raced, quickly processing the information Ray had shared. Akuma wasn’t just an adversary; he was a force of nature, a living embodiment of terror. The kind of being that could break even the strongest warrior.
Ray’s words hung in the air, the fear and vulnerability they carried sinking into Kaizen’s gut like a stone. He could see it now, the cracks that had appeared in Ray’s armor. They were deep, too deep to ignore.
Kaizen placed a steady hand on Ray’s shoulder, his touch firm and grounding. "Ray," he said quietly, his voice a calming presence amidst the storm, "you are not weak. Do you understand me?"
Ray looked up at him, his eyes red and swollen, the remnants of his fear still clinging to him like a shadow. He nodded slowly, though the doubt still gnawed at him from within.
"I… I thought I was ready for anything, Kaizen," Ray admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I could face anything, no matter how terrible. But this… this was different. I don’t know how to fight something like that."
Kaizen’s gaze softened, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and steady. "That is the very thing that makes you stronger, Ray. Recognizing your fear, acknowledging your limits—that is what makes you human. It’s what makes you real. You can’t defeat what you don’t understand, but you can learn from it. And right now, you need to learn how to control that fear, how to channel it. Akuma may have shown you your limits, but you will surpass them."
Ray swallowed again, his hands still shaking, but the words gave him a small thread of hope. Kaizen was right. He couldn’t let fear define him. If he was going to face Akuma again—and he knew he would—he had to do it with something more than just brute strength. He needed to be smarter, more prepared. He needed to become something more.
“Thank you,” Ray muttered, barely audible.
Kaizen nodded once, his gaze still steady. "Now, rest. You’ve seen the face of true terror, but you will rise above it. And when you do, Akuma will be the one trembling in fear of you."
Ray closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath, his heart still heavy with the weight of that encounter. But as he sat there in the bunker, the darkness pressing in around him, a fire began to stir inside him. It was small, but it was there. The beginning of something new.
The beginning of his rise. And the monster known as Akuma Ma Tori? Ray swore to himself, through clenched teeth, that he would make Akuma regret ever crossing his path.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.