Dante entered the cave with a vigilant gaze, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he felt the presence around him. The cave was cold, with only the faint light from the entrance illuminating the place, but what caught his attention was the dense smell of decomposition in the air.
The atmosphere was saturated with a sickly energy, something Dante had never felt before. It was as if the very space itself had been consumed, corroded by decay.
When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, he saw what caused the smell: a creature surrounded by flies, a twisted mass of flesh and bone, so pale it seemed almost translucent. It was difficult to tell what it actually was. The being was sitting on the ground in a lotus pose, immersed in meditation, though its form was far from anything that could be considered human or demonic. What was most striking, however, was the aura it emitted—or rather, the lack of one. Its life force was declining, as if the demon itself was dying slowly.
"What the hell is this..." Dante muttered to himself, unsure how to describe the grotesque scene before him. He hadn't expected to find Beelzebub in such a state. The appearance that normally accompanied one of the greatest demons of the Seven Deadly Sins was absent, replaced by something... empty.
The demon, or what remained of it, slowly lifted its head, its eyes covered by a thick layer of fog, the lashes heavy as if it was physically incapable of opening them completely. Dante observed, his heightened senses trying to detect even the slightest trace of power left in the being. The glow he had expected to see, a reflection of the sin of gluttony, was now extinguished. There was nothing left there but an empty shell.
"Ah... you came." Beelzebub's voice was weak, like the whisper of a dying breeze, yet still carried the weight of an authority that seemed to be fading slowly. "I knew you'd come, Dante."
Dante didn't move, keeping a safe distance while assessing the state of the demon. His eyes were fixed on the grotesque scene before him, but he remained alert for any sign of treachery or sudden change. The demon of gluttony was clearly in a state of decay, something that would never have been allowed in its full form.
"Are you... dying?" Dante asked, with no compassion, just a cruel curiosity. He didn't feel pity for Beelzebub, but he couldn't help but wonder what had caused such decadence.
Beelzebub let out a sigh, a weak laugh, almost as if mocking itself. "Yes, Demon Emperor. I am dying. The sin of gluttony I carry within me... is an unbearable weight. And yet, it's what keeps me trapped in this state."
"But you are Beelzebub. You are the demon of gluttony. How could someone like you be defeated like this? You should be indestructible," Dante said, his voice low but firm. He took a step closer to the weak being, now more intrigued than before. Something was wrong here. He couldn't understand it.
"Indestructible?" Beelzebub mumbled, his eyes still hidden behind the thick fog. "Nothing is indestructible, Your Majesty. Not even the greatest of demons. I was one of the most powerful, but now... I see my strength is being drained." He smiled faintly, an expression full of bitterness. "I am just a shadow of what I was."
"And why are you here? Using the dwarf as a vessel for Gluttony?" Belzebu remarked. "How could I speak to the Demon King without using the rest of my life to get your attention?" He questioned Dante, who remained silent.
"You gambled everything on this? And if you died, would you have stolen her body?" Dante asked, still suspicious. "Why would I need that? I've lived long enough; life hardly matters to us demons," Belzebu said, and again, Dante only heard the sincerity in his words.
"I see..." Dante murmured. "I can help you," he said, his voice firm, devoid of compassion but with the determination of someone who knew what needed to be done.
"You... want to help me?" Belzebu asked, surprised. "Why would you do that?"
Dante smirked slightly. "Because you're still useful. And I won't let Astaroth take control of my Hell."
The Demon of Gluttony looked at him, his eyes now seeming sharper, as if his consciousness was starting to clear a little before the end. "Do what you need to do... If you can stop him... if you can stop Astaroth... then perhaps my fall will have meant something."
"Do you know what Astaroth truly seeks?" Dante asked, but Belzebu shook his head in denial.
Belzebu hesitated, then spoke, his voice now weak, almost as if he were revealing the last secret of his life. "The real issue isn't power. It's control over creation itself. She wants to become the very demon god. But I think that's a very vague possibility, given how she acts. But still, it's my final guess. She wants control."
"Besides... she seemed quite interested in the World Tree. When she tried to kill me, she said that all that was left was the World Tree, and everything would be complete, or something like that..."
"If she destroys the World Tree... or takes it... she will corrupt everything that sustains the balance of the realms."
This was more than just a personal battle between demons. The destruction of the World Tree would mean the fall of everything. The balance of the universe, both in Hell and in the higher realms, would be shattered.
"She wants to absorb Hell," Dante said...