The sky above Washington had become an apocalyptic theater. The low clouds rolled in perpetual motion, charged with supernatural electricity that made the very air vibrate.
Gabriel Reed, S-rank hunter recognized as one of the most powerful human warriors, advanced through the chaos, his reinforced military boots crushing the debris of gutted armored vehicles and fragments of reinforced concrete littering the capital's main arteries.
The acrid smell of gunpowder and molten metal saturated the atmosphere, mixed with the metallic effluvia of dried blood.
He felt his heart beating strongly in his chest, a dull and regular rhythm that resonated in his temples. Each pulsation reminded him of the crushing weight of responsibility: the survival of his people, perhaps of all humanity, rested partly on his combat abilities. His leather-reinforced gloved hands mechanically gripped the handle of his sword, a gesture that had become instinctive after decades of war.
