Then all hell broke loose.
The Headless Angels charged forward with war cries, fists flying, chains snapping through the air like vipers. The Black Cats didn’t flinch. Jake raised a single hand, and his crew surged ahead.
The battle began.
Keon and Neon fought back-to-back, a blur of fists and elbows, their movements mirrored like twin storms. One ducked, the other kicked. One blocked, the other struck. They moved like a single force of fury, taking down Headless Angels twice their size.
“We’re not dying today, bro,” Keon shouted, blood dripping from a cut above his eye.
“Hell no,” Neon growled, slamming a bat out of someone’s hand. “Not before we bury them first.”
Elsewhere, Ryan was locked in brutal combat, wiping blood from his busted lip and grinning like a man who’d been waiting
