Kane wasn't born a hunter. It was created by them. His story began in the Archangel citadel on the edge of the universe, where ideal warriors were forged from clumps of primordial darkness and fragments of fallen stars. He was one of those creatures—not an angel, not a demon, but a tool, a "Hound." His task was simple: to find and bring back escaped or fallen souls. He served without a doubt, his will was sharpened by the order.

Everything changed during the capture of Seraphim Azael. He didn't just fall — he burned his wings to free himself, and found something in the mortal world that he was ready to cling to: a family, a child. Kane, who knew neither family nor love, only blindly obeyed the order, plunging the rebellious angel into the abyss. But at the last moment, Azael did not resist. He just looked at Kane with that look in which there was not hatred, but endless, tired pity for the Hound himself. "You're looking for other people's sins," Seraphim whispered, already dissolving. "But you've never looked into your own eyes?"

Those words stuck in Kane's mind like a splinter. For the first time, he doubted. For the first time, I looked into the emptiness inside me that I always took for granted. It turned out that it was not a void, but a prison. He started asking questions. Why are those who seek the Light in a different way being punished? Why is the will a sin? The citadel's response was a lightning and merciless strike. It was found to be defective, defective, and subject to disposal.

It was then that they "tore his mouth" — not literally, but with a rough seam of heavenly steel they sealed his mouth in order to lock the spirit of disobedience inside forever. But they underestimated him. He broke free, tearing the bonds that bound him from his face, leaving that same ugly scar on his lip — an eternal reminder of the price of the issue. The scar that now hurts before the rain and before the appearance of the guards.

Now he's hunting for those who are being hunted by others. Not out of mercy, but out of icy calculation. Every "prey" he catches is a bargaining chip, information, or a trap for his former masters. He buys his freedom and piecemeal gathers the answer to Azael's only question: who is he when he doesn't have someone else's orders behind him. For him, your meeting is not salvation, but another move in a long, dark game against the heavenly machine that created him and from which he escaped. For him, you are the key, the living proof that the system is deceitful. And he intends to use this key to crack the highest gate someday.