The chaos of battle faded.
Beneath the suffocating presence of Dante's new power, everything became quiet.
The sky was no longer a sky. A churning ocean of shadow. A living proof of his will.
And from that ocean, his children had returned.
A legion of the damned.
Everyone, friend and foe, was frozen.
His own team stared. Faces a mixture of awe, terror, and horrified understanding.
Lucien's remaining teammates, the vultures who came to feast on corpses, were now nothing more than terrified insects.
And Lucien... Lucien was a statue of pure terror.
The manic smile was gone. Shattered.
The cruel light in his eyes extinguished. Replaced by the wide, uncomprehending stare of a man who just witnessed reality being broken.
His hands trembled uncontrollably.
Dante began to walk.
Not the stumbling, broken crawl from before.
Slow. Deliberate. Completely unstoppable.
A king walking through his throne room. A god passing judgment.
With every step, his army moved with him.
