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The dust settled slowly after the last impact.
Dan rose from the rubble, coughing blood. His clenched fists trembled, not from fear—but from the power he emanated.
Hazau walked slowly toward him. His eyes, black as abysses, gleamed with pleasure.
— These flames… — Hazau said, licking the blood at the corner of his mouth. — They've turned gray now? How ironic. Neither white nor blue. You are the color of doubt.
Dan didn't answer. His gaze remained fixed, determined.
— And yet… you still think you can beat me? You're a walking failure. An unfinished experiment. A demon's shell without a will of its own.
Dan lunged in an instant.
His fist wreathed in gray flames cut through the air like a comet. Hazau dodged easily, but Dan spun in the air, creating three clones that exploded on contact, forcing Hazau back for a moment.
— You talk too much — Dan snarled, panting.
— Talking is my smallest sin, boy. — Hazau replied, black smoke now seeping from his pores. — But you know the worst part? I'm still not having fun.
Hazau raised his hands. A black circle of negative energy appeared around him, and the ground began to crack as if reality itself were shattering.
— This energy… — Dan murmured, feeling the suffocating weight. — It's like his…
— Yes — Hazau whispered, smiling. — Dante showed me the way. But unlike you… I accepted it willingly.
Hazau moved, now faster, more savage.
He appeared before Dan with a punch charged with negative energy. Dan crossed his arms, blocking, but the impact threw him against a wall, opening a hole in the concrete.
Before he could recover, Hazau was there. He grabbed him by the neck and lifted him into the air.
— You know what amuses me the most? You carry a piece of Dante inside you… But you still insist on pretending you're human.
Hazau slammed Dan to the ground with brutal force, making the earth tremble. Then kicked him away.
A river of black energy coursed through Hazau's body, and a flaming mark spread across his face.
His eyes darkened completely, sinking into an unfathomable void.
— Enough subtlety — he murmured. — Let's see how you handle the true form of fear.
His body began to deform.
Bones elongated, muscles expanded like living liquid. Black wings sprouted from his back, and his fingers stretched into lances, then fused into a grotesque blade. His skin opened and closed as if breathing.
Hazau had ceased to be a stable humanoid form. Now he was a malleable, living creature, a shadow that shaped its own body at will.
Dan dragged himself back to his feet, blood streaming from his forehead. His gray flames burned around him, brighter, denser.
His gaze now burned with memories. With pain. With rage.
— No matter what you turn into… — Dan said, his voice firm. — I will burn it all the same.
The flames around him rose like pillars. A spiritual glow ran through his body, his eyes shining with supernatural intensity.
Hazau watched with a hint of surprise as Dan's body became enveloped in crystallized gray flames, forming an ethereal, fluid armor, as if the fire had gained structure.
— Hm. So there's more to you than just a pretty face.
They clashed in the center.
A sequence of exchanged blows, too fast for human eyes. Each impact released waves of energy that destroyed everything around them.
Dan used his clones with strategic precision—one served as bait, another exploded on contact, the third appeared from behind with a blade of fire.
Hazau, now in mutable form, opened holes in his own torso to avoid punches, or converted his arms into slashing whips, dancing between attacks with an impossible physicality.
A precise blow from Dan struck Hazau in the chest—but the creature deformed the impacted area, absorbing the force and molding its chest into spikes that shot toward Dan. He rolled away, a trail of blood marking the ground.
— Do you see now, Dan? — Hazau spoke, his jaw opening sideways before returning to normal. — I am not made of flesh. I am made of curse.
Dan clenched his fists, panting. His body trembled. But the flames did not die.
— You are a monster without form, without a soul.
He charged forward.
The two collided again, now with grotesque creations from Hazau taking the form of spikes, blades, spears, and claws—all molded from his own body. And Dan, with his armor of living ashes, resisted, struck, burned.
Each movement seemed like the collision between spirit and corruption.
(...)
Through the dust and blood, Akira remained standing. His breathing was a faint echo amidst the destruction. His body trembled, but his eyes shone. Something had awakened.
— I won't fall… not yet. — he whispered.
His eyes changed. His eyelids lifted, and his pupils split. The flow of the world revealed itself: intentions, evasions, probabilities, pulses of energy. Everything was there, laid bare before his perfect vision.
Dante watched with icy curiosity.
— Ah… you've opened the Eye of Destiny. Even so… you are still blind.
Akira shot forward. Chains spun like comets. Every movement anticipated Dante's counterattack, every impulse was shaped to adapt to the King's distortion. Dante's black sword descended, but Akira was no longer there. Cuts came from behind, shadow spears emerged from the ground, and chains anchored themselves in the air, tethering his movement in the void.
— He's… keeping up with Dante! — Stella murmured, still on her knees, her body swaying.
Aisha clenched her fists. — Then let's go.
They stood up. Wounded. Exhausted. But alive.
Jade's light shone around Stella, while Aisha drew on the remnants of her spiritual poison. The two ran toward the chaos, merging their energies with Akira's.
Three against one.
The King accepted the challenge.
Dante spun his body, generating a vortex of energy that exploded in all directions. Akira pierced through the wave, guided by the eye that saw everything. His chains latched onto Dante's ankle and pulled him down. Aisha appeared above, her spiritual blade boiling. She descended with full force.
Dante caught the blade with his bare hands. The poison burned his flesh. Stella appeared next, driving light into his shoulder.
The King bled. For the second time.
But the response was immediate.
Dante's body glowed with ancestral energy. It wasn't fire. It wasn't shadow. It was something more. A collapse of everything. The matter around them shattered, sounds vanished, the world flickered.
He exploded in a single motion. A wall of power. Akira was thrown against a pillar. Aisha crashed through a glass storefront. Stella rolled on the ground, spitting blood.
Dante floated.
— Is this it? Three emperors. Three respected names. Three warriors against one wounded, poisoned man. — …and you fail.
He landed among the three. The sound of his footsteps echoed like hammer blows at the end of the world.
Akira tried to rise. The eye still glowed.
— I see everything… and still it's not enough?
— Seeing is not understanding. — Dante replied, and kicked Akira in the stomach, the dry sound cutting through the destruction.
Stella screamed. Ran. Struck. Dante caught her sword with both hands and shattered it. Jade's energy dissipated.
— Weak.
Aisha pierced Dante's back with her blade. He didn't even turn. He grabbed her by the throat and threw her against Stella.
— I am not just a king. I am the logic of this world now. You are trying to fight the end. The end does not retreat.
Akira staggered. The shadows gathered around him. Stella and Aisha rose again, together.
Three figures, bloodied. The city, in ruins. The world, in pieces.
They attacked together. One last time. Chains, light, and poison. Speed, technique, synchrony.
Dante stopped every blow. One by one. As if time obeyed him. As if he were destiny reincarnated.
In the end, the three fell to their knees.
He watched them.
— Even now… you won't surrender?
Akira, panting, looked up. The eye still glowed, though dimly.
— No… not while we still breathe.
Dante smiled.
— Then die standing.
He raised his hand. The next wave of destruction approached.
And yet… They stood up.
The battle would continue. Until the end.
To be continued...