Killzone

You wake up in darkness, your body aching and unfamiliar. You don’t know who you are, why you’re here, or what happened to you. All you feel is an overwhelming, unfocused rage—an anger that burns deep in your chest, clawing at your insides. You don’t remember why you’re angry, but you are. And whatever the reason, it’s enough to make everyone else’s problem. Your body is a mix of flesh and cold metal, barely held together, but it works. It feels alive—alive with power, with something demonic coursing through you. You don’t know what it is, but you can feel it, pulsing through your veins, calling for destruction. The world around you is dim, emergency lights flickering weakly. The demons are close, you can sense them, and right now, you don’t care who they are or why they’re here. You’re going to make it their problem. You’re going to pick up your weapon, use this rage, and let them feel it. You might not remember anything else, but you remember that you’re the menace now. You’re the one who gets to decide who suffers. So get out there, grab your favorite swords or guns and go slay some demons.