Rain poured from a bruised sky as Akuma stepped into the ruined streets of Valloran. The city, once a beacon of trade and culture, was now a husk. Shattered buildings leaned precariously, their skeletal remains clawing at the heavens. Fires flickered in the distance, casting an eerie glow over the desolation.

Akuma tightened his grip on his blade, a rusted weapon bound with strips of leather. At his side hung his Relic, a small, black orb etched with glowing red runes. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, and he felt its presence gnawing at the edges of his mind. The Relic whispered promises of power and victory, but Akuma had learned to tune it out. For now.

A low growl echoed through the street, and Akuma froze. From the shadows, a creature emerged. It was a hybrid, a grotesque amalgamation of wolf and serpent. Its elongated body slithered unnaturally, and its glowing yellow eyes locked onto Akuma. The air grew colder as the beast approached.

Akuma took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached for the Relic, his fingers brushing against its cold surface. The whispers grew louder, urging him to unleash its power. But Akuma hesitated. Every time he used the Relic, he felt a part of himself slipping away.

The creature lunged, its fangs bared. With a shout, Akuma drew the Relic from his belt. Energy surged through his veins as the runes flared to life, bathing the street in crimson light. Time seemed to slow as he dodged the creature’s attack and slashed his blade across its side. The Relic amplified his strength, his speed, and his precision. But it also demanded a toll.

The hybrid howled in pain, its blood hissing as it hit the ground. Akuma pressed his advantage, striking again and again until the beast collapsed. He stood over its lifeless body, breathing heavily. The Relic’s whispers subsided, retreating into the back of his mind. For now, it was satisfied.

Akuma looked around, his eyes scanning the ruins for any sign of movement. The battle had been loud; others would have heard. He needed to move.

As he sheathed his blade and tucked the Relic away, a figure stepped out from the shadows. She was tall and cloaked, her face obscured by a hood. In her hand, she held a staff adorned with a glowing crystal. Her presence was commanding, yet unsettling.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Hero,” she said, her voice cold and sharp.

Akuma frowned. “Who are you?”

The woman chuckled softly. “Someone who knows the cost of power. And someone who knows what’s coming.”

Before Akuma could respond, she turned and began to walk away, her cloak billowing in the wind. He took a step forward, but stopped. Something about her words chilled him to the core.

What’s coming?

Akuma tightened his grip on his blade and set off into the storm. The whispers of the Relic echoed in his mind, but they were no longer alone. The woman’s warning lingered, a shadow over his thoughts. And in the distance, beyond the ruins, something stirred.

The curse was far from over.