It had been days, days without real sleep.
Where nightmares replaced dreams and the little rest he allowed himself felt more like ntal paralysis.
He was no longer hungry, no longer thirsty, and had nowhere left to go.
Rain, cold, pain, screams... they were now part of him. Oui
Dante Godwin chased her gaze, especially — or what was left of it : her last eye.
He had crossed it all. The forests of the North Quarter. The black markets of Darnholm.
And always the sa rumor : "The Eye exists." It hadn’t been devoured by Sarn. But the eye was never in his hands.
And now ? Only he remained. Him... and this freezing rain.
That morning, he stumbled to the gates of St. Raphael Central Hospital.
His coat was nothing but a soaked rag. His left arm still bore the marks of the fight against Malek, and his chest burned with every breath.
But he kept walking. Always.
Because sothing was calling to him.
A man in a white coat looked up from his terminal. He paled.
— "Sir... can I help you ?"
— "Annabelle Edwin." His voice was hoarse, like a man who had scread all night.
The doctor stood up, worried. He checked his tablet hurriedly.
— "Uh... the woman ? Yes, she was admitted a few months ago."
He hesitated, looked Dante in the eye.
— "But she’s no longer here."
— "Explain."
The doctor swallowed hard.
— "She... she disappeared five days ago. Right after the last storm. The caras show nothing. Her room was empty. No struggle, no break-in. But..."
— "But ? But what ?"
— "Two n in black ca asking for her. Even before she vanished. We let them in. We thought they were... family."
— "What family, damn it ?" Dante growled, jaw clenched.
The doctor stepped back. A chill swept through the entire reception area. A nurse dropped a tal tray, the clang echoing across the tiles.
Dante said no more. He turned on his heels.
The road ho was agony.
The wind pushed against him. The streetlights flickered, as if Dante’s presence disrupted even electricity.
He ran, boots sliding, black hair sticking to his face.
Then he slled it.
Not rain.
But the choking stench... of burning flesh.
And at the corner, he saw the flas.
The house ablaze.
Firefighters struggled to contain so police officers wore reinforced armor.
— "Back up! Back up, damn it!"
— "We’ve got an anomaly on site! Call in reinforcents now!"
But in the chaos... Dante moved forward.
— "Stop him!"
Weapons were raised.
An agent fired.
The projectile shattered against Dante.
— "Shit, what the hell is he ?"
And the police took a step back.
Dante didn’t hear them. And, at the end of the hall... two body. One tall, one small. Both reduced to ash.
His legs trembled. His heart clenched. But he didn’t cry and he didn’t scream.
He placed his hand on the scorched floor, and the next mont, a wave of dark energy spread from him.
The people nearby recoiled in terror. So dropped to their knees, others vomited.
Dante had just used his energy like a radar. The dark wave spread across several hundred ters. Invisible to most, but felt in the bone.
Dante closed his eyes. His breath ragged. He could hear everything. Eyelash flutters, tears, whispers. But he filtered them out.
He was searching for one thing, a dissonant aura.
And he found it.
Two blocks away.
Fast, calm, prepared. Too prepared.
A professional.
With a single leap, Dante launched himself. Not running but sothing like flying, not like a man but like a beast.
He hurled through the air, shattering pavent tiles. He landed on a rooftop, his knee splitting concrete, then bounded again, clawing walls bare-handed.
He saw him.
A man in black, tall, armored, energy rifle on his back, sword at his waist.
He was running, glancing around in panic.
Dante landed silently in front of him, blocking the way. The man leapt back, drawing his weapon.
— "Out of my way, monster."
Dante tilted his head. His voice no longer human. It was a growl.
— "Where... is she ?"
— "I don’t know who you’re talking about. And I’m not your enemy."
He raised his weapon. Dante stepped forward without flinching.
— "They burned my house. They took my sister. And you dare look at without trembling ?"
— "I’m an Inquisitor. Sent to monitor anomalies. I had nothing to do with the fire."
— "Lies."
In a blink, Dante vanished. Reappeared behind him. The man barely turned when his arm twisted at an impossible angle.
— "YOU’RE GOING TO TELL WHAT I WANT TO KNOW!"
The man scread, teeth clenched. He struck back, drew a dagger, plunged it into Dante’s side...
... and the blade shattered.
Armor beneath skin, flesh reinforced by corruption.
Dante grabbed his throat and lifted him, despite his tech, the soldier’s heart raced at absurd speed.
— "They scread, didn’t they ? You heard her ? You looked at her ? You don’t even know what you did... You don’t..."
The man gasped, then broke.
— "Alright, alright... I swear I know nothing ! I was on the rooftops, I got a surveillance order ! There... there was a purge ! We don’t get nas !"
— "Who gives the orders ?"
— "Division O. Kovalien. Special ops. I swear that’s all I know... I swe—"
Too late.
Dante’s fist fell. He finished him. Not out of necessity but instinct.
Dante stayed there, kneeling, arms shaking. He felt the rain, but it no longer washed anything.
It clung, seeped into his wounds, dripped into his open mouth. He looked at his hands. But they weren’t hands anymore.
Claws, red and black, he no longer breathed. He growled. And that growl... it wasn’t anger.
It was hunger.
A shiver climbed his spine.
— "No... no, no, no..."
He collapsed to his knees. His body trembled, then arched back. He spat blood.
His humanity... was fleeing. He had used too much power, he had crossed the line. And now... He was losing what was left of his first mother — his humanity.
It all blurred in his mory, replaced by another sound, the sound of hate.
People were arriving. So running in panic. Others backing away, crying.
Firefighters, agents, children. All staring at him.
— "Filthy monster..."
— "Where the hell did this savage co from...?"
And Dante, kneeling in the rain, was nothing but a shadow of himself. He wanted to speak, but all that ca from his mouth was a growl.
This world he once loved now looked at him with disdain. They judged him with their eyes.
Then he suddenly collapsed, drained by exhaustion, and only adrenaline kept him going in his madness.
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