Prelude: Predator's Heirs
Beneath the moon, where devils tread,
A crimson tide of blood is spread.
The city whispers names in fear,
Where kings of ash and smoke appear.
A dagger’s gleam, a lover’s kiss,
In shadows, lies their twisted bliss.
The heart of betrayal beats loud and strong,
A cruel maestro to the underworld’s song.
In gilded halls where secrets thrive,
No oath, no promise keeps hope alive.
The wine flows red, a prelude to pain,
As loyalty falters, the greedy reign.
A smirk, a nod, the silent decree,
For men to die with silent plea.
To trust is folly; to doubt, divine—
A game of serpents in coiled design.
Queens with pistols, kings with wrath,
Crimson rivers mark their path.
The prey in chains, the hunters crowned,
Each shadow steeped in lies profound.
Death’s embrace is a lover’s call,
And power climbs with every fall.
The weak are swept beneath the tide,
As devils feast on broken pride.
So enter now, this stage of dread,
Where every vow is loosely thread.
The anthem of betrayal swells,
A symphony of countless hells.
Fear the laughter, sharp and cold,
For in this game, no soul grows old.
The mafia’s creed, both curse and boon—
A requiem sung beneath the moon.
