"Sit down," she said, her voice carrying an unusually intimate tone, as if this mont was just for them, sothing even ti itself couldn't interfere with. "You must have many questions, right?"
Dante looked at her for a mont before sitting down. His claws lightly drumd on the darkened mahogany table between them. The wood seed ancient, older than the very concept of civilization itself, yet untouched by ti.
"I imagine you can't answer them," he said, his voice carrying sharp skepticism.
But Ophis shook her head serenely, delicately picking up a small porcelain cup adorned with draconic symbols.
"I am free from the shackles of ti and the secrecy of the Administrators. And we are not here to talk about anyone else, but... you."
There was sothing in the way she said that which made Dante narrow his eyes.
"Then..." he began, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't I rember you?"
Ophis took a small sip of tea, her eyes deep, a mix of shadows and infinity.
"Because you chose not to rember . Even if you regained all your mories, nothing about the Infinite Entity should be kept." Silence fell between them for a mont, broken only by the soft chi of silver bells on the temple's eaves.
Dante leaned his elbows on the table, his expression serious. "Why?"
Ophis placed the cup down gently, intertwining her fingers under her chin as she watched him with patience.
"How do you think you managed to be reborn so many tis?" Dante didn't respond imdiately. The question hung in the air, laden with aning.
"The Cycle of Reincarnation is not infinite, Dante," Ophis continued. "The natural order is to be born, live, die, and have the soul recycled, dissolved in the sea of existence until no trace of what was remains."
She leaned slightly forward, her eyes burning with a deep glow. "But your soul was never destroyed. It was never recycled. It always... continued."
Dante felt a strange, unsettling sensation in his chest.
"Who do you think kept your essence intact for countless millennia?" she asked.
He opened his mouth to respond, but Ophis raised a finger, silencing him with an amused glance. "We have an agreent," she revealed. "You possess immortality in your soul. You and everyone you love."
Dante furrowed his brows. "Why?"
Ophis gave a small smile, but her eyes carried an overwhelming weight. "Because you alone were not interesting enough for the agreent that the Infinite desired."
She raised her hand, and a mystical glow shimred in her fingers. A magical holographic projection appeared, showing a distant galaxy, so vast that it made any concept of grandeur seem insignificant. "Who knows where Ouroboros is now... probably in a galaxy so far away it can't even see us. But a contract was made."
The image flickered, and then... Dante saw himself. Not as he was now, but as he was before. As Azi Dahaka.
His colossal draconic body, bathed in crimson flas, tore through the skies of an entire sector, taking it for himself. The roar of smaller dragons echoed around him, powerless in the face of his absolute supremacy.
"You went to her once," Ophis narrated, her voice whispering through ti. "The original. Ouroboros, the Infinite."
The projection changed to an indistinct figure, a cosmic presence that transcended any physical form. Ouroboros had no eyes, but its re existence conveyed absolute judgnt.
"She, of course, didn't want to talk. You took an entire sector without permission."
Dante narrowed his eyes as he observed his past self.
"Your goal was to obtain immortality. Not for ego, not for fear of death... but to protect the sectors from collapse and because..." Ophis smiled slightly. "You love your wives too much."
She crossed her legs and rested her face in one hand. "I consider that a problem, especially with what you did."
"Tsk," Dante huffed. "So, she refused?"
"At first, yes." The hologram distorted, and then Ouroboros' voice sounded, deep and inexorable.
"But you offered your unique ability... 'The End.'"
The instant those words echoed, a thunderclap erupted from nowhere.
Dante felt sothing inside him twist. As if every cell of his being scread in utter despair.
[Ability "The End" reallocated to the entity "Azi Dahaka"]
The system text flashed before him, and then—
Pain.
A pain that transcended the physical. That broke the concept of ti.
Dante gasped, his vision fragnting as his body twisted. It was as if he was being undone and remade simultaneously. His skeleton deford, his scales burned and regenerated, his very existence oscillated between the now and the never.
The temple around him trembled, cracks appearing in the very fabric of space-ti.
Ophis remained seated, watching him calmly, but there was a gleam of concern in her eyes.
"Hold on," she commanded.
Dante fell to his knees, his shadow cast by the lanterns dancing frantically, taking distorted forms of himself from all of his past lives.
He was falling.
Breaking.
Becoming sothing more... or perhaps returning to what he had always been.
The universe around him roared. The temple dissolved into mist and darkness as Dante writhed, his existence being shattered and reconstructed in an endless cycle. His soul burned, a black and crimson fla that blazed beyond ti and space.
[Ability "The End" reintegrated to the entity "Azi Dahaka"]
The ssage glowed in his field of vision like an absolute decree.
In the next instant, the tornt ceased.
Dante knelt, his heavy breath echoing through the emptiness. His skin trembled, his scales glowing with an ancient radiance. He slowly raised his head... and then, everything returned.
Every mory. Every plan. Every damned drop of hatred.
The truth hit Dante like a blade slicing through his mind.
They never died.
The hatred inside him trembled, transforming into sothing even more dangerous. An insatiable need to act.
His own plan...
He rembered.
In the final monts before his sacrifice, before disappearing into that distant sector, he used "The End" to copy a ntal manipulation ability, and he perfected it to the point of being a reality break... And then, he fooled even himself.
He sealed them before the worst could happen, hiding them within illusions so absolute that even the universe itself was deceived.
The pain he felt. The rage. The thirst for vengeance. It had all been part of the plan itself.
The weight of the truth made the world around him sway. His heart raced.
His fists trembled. "They... never died... I sent them across the cosmos to be reborn... but... Voralith..."
Ophis watched, her piercing eyes carrying an unusual softness. "Li i was used to carry their souls while you fought with Angra. You also didn't die in the battle. You no longer had your best ability, but... A dragon fighting a Progenitor is nearly impossible. But it happened... a draw..." Ophis spoke, and Dante's face twisted.
Each second he rembered... each second he relived the mories, the plans... He sealed his wives without their permission, he forced them to travel to other sectors while he bore the burden alone...
He used his own death to escape, to be reborn in a distant, hidden sector, where he could rise again, reclaim his wives, rebuild his empire and—Destroy it completely.
Hatred resurfaced. No, it expanded.
It wasn't just resentnt. It wasn't just a desire for revenge. It was a cosmic fury, a rancor etched into every fragnt of his immortal soul.
Angra Mainyu had stolen everything from him.
His wives. His glory. His existence. But now...
Now, he was back.
Ophis watched in silence, a small smile curving her lips.
"Welco back, my King."
Dante slowly rose, feeling the energy pulse in every cell of his body. The air around him vibrated, distorting reality. A power that should not exist in this sector. A power that defied the very concept of limitation.
He ran his tongue over his sharp canine teeth. Sothing primal and absolute stirred within him.
"I imagine you've already identified where each of them is, right?" His voice was cold, calculating, but carried a note of restrained expectation.
Ophis smiled. A smile full of mystery and confidence. "Who do you think I am? Of course I have. We, Ophis, are very committed to keeping our promises."
Dante narrowed his eyes, his mind spinning at an incredible speed. There was sothing wrong. Sothing that didn't make sense.
He looked directly at Ophis, his presence weighing heavily on the space around them. "Why did you give this back to ?"
The system ssage still burned before his eyes.
[The End][Description: A transcendental ability that allows the user to copy, store, and enhance any skill they witness. The End not only imitates but optimizes and perfects every technique acquired, allowing its bearer to surpass any enemy.]
The ability he had traded. What had been taken from him in the pact with Ouroboros.
Ophis rested her face on her hand, her dark eyes glowing like fathomless abysses. "Because without it, you're not you."
Dante felt a sharp pang in his soul.
"And besides..." Ophis slid her fingers across the table, creating a circle of energy in the air. A seal. A contract. An eternal vow.
"This power doesn't work," Ophis said with a shrug.
"Huh?" Dante questioned.
"Existential Characteristic Ability. We thought it was nonsense, but... even the system has its oddities. It seems like it doesn't work unless it's tied to your soul, so this thing is useless. Why didn't Ouroboros return it to you? Who knows? I'm just a part of her, not the original," Ophis said with another shrug.
"That doesn't make any sense…" Dante muttered.
"Well, considering Ouroboros can see the past, present, and future... she probably kept it because of so event that will happen thousands of years from now. But for now, this is it," Ophis said, rising with a calm movent. With a simple snap of her fingers, Dante found himself back in the piano room.
"It seems you're done," the Ophis from Dante's Sector remarked, her eyes locking onto Dante as she noticed his return. "I've received her mories, so let's continue our discussion."
"Honestly, I have no idea why Ouroboros kept the power. Probably because the end would happen in so way in the future and she wanted to prevent it. But for now, I think this is the end of your journey, Dante," Ophis said, her smile gentle but enigmatic.
"Yeah... looks like I'll be stuck here for a few thousand years, just like Zathana said," Dante responded, the smile that appeared on his lips carrying a silent irony.
"I would recomnd you use these millions of years to get stronger," Ophis suggested, her eyes turning toward the window where Valentina and Rose were locked in a fierce battle, their figures moving in a chaotic, intense dance.
"The End is a powerful ability for soone born to fight. I would suggest you start using it to copy skills around the world," Ophis said with a hint of authority, but her expression was slightly amused. "But for now, I think it's ti to enjoy a little of your life, Great Dragon God."
Dante looked at her, a smile tugging at his lips. "Who knows..." he murmured before vanishing, as if dissolving into the air.
Ophis remained there, still, her eyes fixed on the window, watching the battles that continued with the intensity of a storm.
"It seems another sector has co to an end... But I must admit, this story was interesting," Ophis murmured to herself as she settled into the desk nearby. Her hands slid over the polished wood surface, and a mysterious smile appeared on her lips, almost imperceptible.
She picked up an old book, its cover dark leather, and opened it. Her eyes skimd the pages calmly until she found the title of the first chapter. "1. Reincarnated."
"Who knows... it's a good legacy," Ophis whispered, her voice tinged with a sense of satisfaction. She closed the book with a sigh, her smile deepening. "Marked by so much blood…" she murmured, and with a gentle gesture, the book vanished in a wave of energy, as if absorbed by the very essence of the universe.
"For soone who lived their entire lives fighting... I think you deserve a good rest. Dante Scarlet."
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