Central Park Massacre II

A dozen bloodied corpses were strewn across the grove. Some had been riddled with bullets, others had been brutally dismembered, almost as if a wild beast had attacked them. A lot of these corpses were missing their arms, legs, and heads, and some were even beyond recognition.

Amidst the corpses, two figures were going back and forth against each other. None of them used modern firearms, instead, they were using cold weapons. And by the look of it, they seemed to be evenly matched.

The muscular man wearing a tactical vest and wielding a great sword slashed downward at Morpheus, but the latter nimbly evaded by side-stepping and counter-attacked with his dagger. The man swiftly blocked the incoming attack with his sword and drew back, panting slightly.

Standing over 6 feet tall, the man glared at Morpheus. "They said you're a wizard, so why aren't you using your spells? Or perhaps you're already out of spiritual force."

Morpheus' eyes narrowed. "Who's 'they'"?