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"Ah, what? What's going on? Where the hell am I? I need to buy a map, this is getting ridiculous!"... Dante was saying, but suddenly his talking stopped when his foot met a hard dusty step in front of him. He looked up at a spiralling staircase, then it all came back to him. He was inside some sort of vision, witnessing a moment that bore no necessary need for the concept of time and space for his mind in this place. It was all so surreal, this surely wasn't happening. But, for what seemed like his only option, he took another step up towards his fate. He was soon stopped in his tracks, a cold and spine tingling sensation ran from head to toe. It felt like the cold hands of Death were running themselves along his body, prizing his soul from him. Dante shook the cool breeze away from his skin, his cold breath blowing as he let out a heavy breath. He continued, venturing onwards up the stairs. Step after step he took, it seemed like the staircase got higher and higher. It felt like he was going nowhere, no matter how many steps he climbed. He got faster and faster, to the point he was sprinting as quick as he could upwards and upwards, but still nothing. What was happening to him? He looked down on the spot he was stood at, below him there was a crack in the ground. Spewing hot lava was boiling below, beneath the torn crack in the surface of this mysterious land. It rose like a blazing tornado, spinning and burning the steps below him. It lashed away at his position, inevitable consuming him. Dante's entire body was drenched in a sea of lava... The unbearable pain, so intense and agonizing, destroying him slowly. He could hear a faint voice that got louder and louder, singing something to him.
Your mind, your soul,
Will make me whole,
So grab a chair, if you dare,
and take a seat, if you will,
Your burning soul will slowly meet,
an end that will soon fulfil,
In to the fiery chasm of your doom,
destructive flares will burn your dreams,
Cast you into your eternal tomb,
the fire on you brightly beams,
Gasping, clutching, clawing for air,
it's so pleasant to watch you die,
You must know that I don't care,
it's what I've wanted all this time.
My fellow friends, we see this half-ling,
reduced to nothing but a cinder,
Live not in fear, now he is gone,
our plans will go on unhindered,
It's the time to raise your swords,
or whatever weapon that may please,
And in this moment, that's mine and yours,
we'll bring this World down to its knees.
Then there was laughter, followed by nothing but silence. Then a cheer that shook the Earth.
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The skies were torn apart by lightning, and dark clouds formed. Ghostly, unearthly, deathly creatures all dressed in black robes and with black face-masks flooded the midnight sky. An army of them, a deadly swarm. Hundreds upon hundreds of demons floating overhead.
"This does not look good" Vergil said, with a sound of worry in his voice. "For who? Them or us?" Nero replied, bringing his cockiness he'd picked up from Dante. "The odds certainly aren't in our favour" Trish clearly pointed out in the most obvious manner. "When are they?" Lady answered, which everyone seemed to agree to. For that period of time, nobody did anything but to continue to move. The demons above them were heading elsewhere, not even noticing or bothering to notice the group below.
"Do we follow them?" Nero questioned, scratching his face. "It looks like they know the way better than I remember it" Vergil replied, as to which Trish and Lady both said in unison, "That's a yes then".