Fury.
A deep, primal emotion that emerges from the shadows of the heart when anger surpasses all bounds. It's a state that consumes the soul, obliterating reason and consciousness. Dante was immersed in this fury now, a black flame burning with such intensity that it seemed to want to devour the world itself.
Nothing else mattered. Neither allies nor enemies. Only the idea of rescuing Sara pulsed in his mind, each beat of his heart like a war drum echoing in the emptiness of the night.
For Voralith, who had traveled through countless worlds, who had witnessed horrors and wonders beyond mortal understanding, seeing Dante in this state was something she could never have anticipated. Her legs trembled, a chill ran down her spine, and her eyes were fixed on the black pillar rising to the skies—a tower of misunderstood rage and hatred.
She didn't know what had happened there, but it was something very bad.
The fear she felt was a fear she had not known in her countless lives. It was a visceral fear, a cold chain tightening around her heart and making it hard to breathe. She knew she couldn't simply turn and run, but at the same time, the idea of approaching Dante in that state was terrifying.
Vex and Aaralyn were by her side, but they too succumbed to Dante's overwhelming power of fury. Vex, usually bold and carefree, was pale and kneeling on the ground unable to rise; this was her first experience with something like this. Aaralyn was no different, her normally strong control and calmness faltering under the crushing pressure of Dante's aura.
"Voralith... what... what should we do?" Aaralyn managed to murmur, her voice trembling.
Voralith tried to find her words but felt lost in the tide of emotions and energy flowing from Dante. Seeing him like this weighed heavily on her heart. What had happened? She didn't have these answers. "We... we need to get out of here," she managed to say, each word an effort.
"He asked us to return, so let's follow that. He's not holding back; Sara has been captured."
Meanwhile, Dante was consumed by the darkness he had summoned. Every thought was an explosion of anger, every breath a growl of pure hatred.
"YOU BASTARDS!" With a primal scream, Dante focused his energy and unleashed it in a wave of destruction. The earth trembled around him, trees were uprooted, and the air vibrated with the intensity of his fury. The clearing where he stood became a vortex of chaos, a storm of darkness and power consuming everything around it.
"You... organization of shit, came from Nightsphere after Lyrianna? No! You came after the Celestial Virtue! Used Lyrianna to lure SARA!" Dante shouted as the skies opened up. "Hey, you goddamn deity, if your damn protection isn't protecting her, I'll kill all your angels next." Dante said, fury consuming him for a moment.
"Of all the people you could have messed with... you had to mess with me... with my wife," Dante said, his face already contorting—he was no longer humanoid, just a great blot of black hatred, filled with eyes. "Devour everything in your path," Dante said, merging completely with the hound.
It was the first time Dante had fully used metamorphosis as another being—if they wanted to provoke a demon, especially the worst of them, he was far from pleased...
Meanwhile, beside Sara, things were not going well.
"Keep draining her aura; we need more divine power," said a man manipulating an artifact around Sara, who lay in a blood circle, completely unconscious, her consciousness sealed. "Go slowly; if the artifact explodes, we won't be able to complete the plan. He won't like having to wait any longer."
The scene was macabre, laden with a sinister atmosphere. The blood circle pulsed dimly as the man worked carefully, focusing on extracting Sara's divine energy.
Sara remained still, surrounded by a faint, ethereal aura that slowly dissipated as it was sucked into the artifact. Her facial features revealed an expression of peace, oblivious to what was happening around her. With each passing moment, the artifact seemed to glow brighter, a sign that it was successfully absorbing the energy they sought.
"Mm... Mm... Mmmm!!!" A muffled scream could be heard. One of the men working with Sara's body abruptly turned around—there was Lyrianna Vortex suspended, her hands hanging like a prisoner, completely immobilized while the man approached. Her eyes burned with fury, fixed on the mage who dared to touch her and imprison her.
*TAP*
The pain from the slap on her face resonated in her gaze, but she did not falter. The mage approached her with a smile on his lips, his eyes shining like someone who had found a gold mine. He ran his fingers across her chin, studying her as if she were an object of experimentation.
"Lyrianna Vortex, you will become a valuable component of our research," he said with a soft voice, but laden with a threatening tone. "Your blood, your essence, all of it will be studied meticulously to enhance our demonic techniques. You should feel honored to contribute to the advancement of demonic knowledge."
Lyrianna kept her gaze fixed on the mage. Every muscle in her body trembled with contained rage, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Her eyes showed no fear; on the contrary, she was desperate for the slightest opportunity to break free—she wouldn't mind dying if it meant freeing her daughter.
"I hope you enjoy yourselves, because when that man finds out what happened here, the world will weep rivers of blood," she thought. The man? Who could it be? The same one who came back to life ten years later just to take revenge on a cockroach that dared to touch him, the same one who grew up next to the most arrogant and strongest woman she knew.
"If you manage to get my daughter out of here alive, I'll personally sell my soul to you, Dante Scarlet."