The ragtag group of mutants were trying to savour the fleeting illusion of peace in their rundown motel room. Patching their wounds and trading weary glances, they pretended, just for a moment, that the storm wasn't already breathing down their necks.

Sleeping was the only thing that could calm their minds. As such, they squeezed into the small room and began snoring the night away. While they did, someone else was watching the city unravel with a twisted smile tugging at his lips.

It had only been a few hours since they had arrived in New York, and already, chaos had blossomed in their wake.

Mutant battles, destruction, bodies. It was impossible to miss, and whispers of their appearance had spread quickly.

And among the very first to hear them was none other than... Nyx.

He had been expecting them. It wasn't an if, but simply a matter of time. And now that they were finally dancing in his theatre, he had the best seat in the house.

High above the mayhem, perched like a spider in its web, Nyx stood atop a towering obsidian spire that loomed over downtown Manhattan like a dark sentinel. The stormy winds clawed at his long coat, howling through the night sky, but he didn't so much as flinch. His hands rested neatly behind his back, and his eyes gleamed with a quiet, controlled madness.

Below him, the city pulsed with unrest. Sirens screamed. Explosions lit up the skyline. News choppers sliced through the air, circling like vultures hungry for a story soaked in blood.

And in the distance, illuminated by the erratic flicker of lightning, two figures clashed atop a distant skyscraper. Takeshi, the Blind Swordsman, and the Association's rising star, Thundercutter, were locked in a brutal ballet of blade and thunder.

To the world watching through drones and shaky camera feeds, it was a battle of legends - mutant artistry versus raw heroism.

But to Nyx?

It was background noise.

His gaze didn't linger long.

His attention was elsewhere, and he was far more fixated on a single mutant.

The Bloodweaver.

A low chuckle escaped him, half-muttered, half-purred, as it vanished into the cold air around him.

'I knew they'd show up. Took them longer than I thought, but those Outlaws... they never can resist poking their noses into things they don't understand.'

He leaned forward slightly, as if his eyes could pierce the layers of the city and track Kai's every move from miles away.

'They're reckless and careless, but quite effective in their own way. And best of all, they're full of emotions and interesting mutants. The best kind of entertainment.'

He could already see the aftermath: streets stained in red, emergency broadcasts flooding the airwaves, anchors trembling as they tried to explain the inexplicable. Footage of blood lashing like whips and bodies being torn apart was going viral across every feed.

'They've already made such a lovely mess... and things are only just beginning.'

"I didn't even need to loop them into one of my games; they did this on their own," he laughed aloud.

With a satisfied hum, Nyx reached into the inside pocket of his coat and retrieved a slim glass vial. The contents shimmered, a hypnotic blend of violet and crimson, swirling like a living organism desperate to escape.

One of his latest creations.

A refined version of the instant monsterfication serum. Custom-made. Enhanced. Fused with compounds even he had yet to fully understand. Unstable? Absolutely. But that was the point.

He held it up to the moonlight, watching the liquid dance.

"I didn't even get to use the special serum I improved since the last time, but I'm sure I'll get a chance to use it soon enough."

His lips curled wider, tongue flicking briefly across them in anticipation.

'And of course… the AMC. I couldn't resist tipping them off. The moment I got word of a mutant capable of blood manipulation, there was no doubt. It was him.'

He exhaled a laugh, low and rich with cruelty.

'So I threw a little fuel on the fire. Passed the intel along. Let the dogs off the leash.'

'That should keep Subject 357 nice and cornered. He's too stubborn to run. Too obsessive. Like a bloodhound that's finally caught scent of his prey. He won't be leaving this city any time soon.'

He turned slightly, his gaze drifting to the far corner of the rooftop lab behind him, where two small, twisted figures floated in silence. The twins. Once ferocious, now broken. Their mutated bodies hung limp in suspension tanks filled with murky green liquid, tubes and wires snaking into their flesh, keeping them barely alive after their encounter with berserk Kai.

'Don't worry, my lovelies… I've stitched you two back together and made you even stronger. Soon, you'll get your revenge.'

He smiled sweetly, almost fatherly.

'But first… I need to see just how far my little Bloodweaver has come.'

He walked toward them, placing a hand gently against the glass as the twins twitched and stirred.

'I'm going to stimulate Subject 357's mind. Slowly help him awaken bits and pieces of his memories. Push him until he breaks or becomes something far more interesting. That'll be when I've truly perfected my creation.'

The wind outside screamed louder, howling through the steel bones of the city. But Nyx turned away from the skyline with calm finality. The glass door behind him slid open with a hiss, ushering him into a sterile chamber of white light and surgical coldness.

Monitors flickered. Data streamed across black screens in endless columns. Stasis tanks filled with mutant corpses lined the walls like macabre trophies.

At the centre, a large holographic screen displayed footage of a frightening mutant facing Zeke, then Dominiqiue, and then massacring the AMC.

Kai.

Eyes glowing like twin infernos. Blood coiling around him like the wings of a demon ascending from Hell.

Nyx approached slowly, reverently, like a priest before an altar.

He placed a hand against the screen.

His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible - like a secret shared with a ghost.

"Grow stronger, my little Bloodweaver. Fight. Survive. Let loose."

His fingers curled into a claw against the image.

"Because the day I take you apart…"

A slow grin spread across his face, almost tender.

"…I want you to wail like a dog as I break you."

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