The world was slow to come back into focus.
Stone dust floated through the broken air. Dante leaned against a tree, trying to steady his breathing.
Across from him, Lyra — the girl he had saved — knelt.
Her dark eyes, still laced with inhuman black, softened.
She placed a hand over her heart, then over Dante's.
"My father... Veylan..." she said softly, "He also HATES the hybrid kill law, it puts me in danger, although have death, i am of flesh, i can die."
Dante frowned, confused, aching.
Lyra continued, her voice almost trembling:
"When the gods kill hybrids, they mess up the flow of nature, forcing beings deaths that were not yet to come, and it pisses him off"
"When he met a mortal woman, they fell in love, and a hybrid was born.
He swore no hybrid would be erased without a price paid in blood."
Her eyes gleamed — not with power, but with hope.
"That's why he erased your curse.
That's why he helped you."
"You aren't just a fighter, Dante.
You're a beacon. They see you — we see you — as a savior."
Dante pressed a bloodied hand to his forehead, stunned.
He hadn't asked for this.
He hadn't wanted any of this.
But fate didn't ask.
It took.
Inside Dante's mind, the Sound God twitched.
"Hold still," he muttered.
"I'm hearing something…"
A thousand whispers filled the edges of Dante's mind — voices from mountains, cities, forests, deserts.
Hybrids.
Hidden, broken, hunted across the world.
But now… now they stirred.
"Did you hear?"
"The Tournament Champion — he's one of us."
"He stood against the gods themselves."
"It's time. It's finally time, let the war begin."
Dante shivered.
He wasn't alone anymore.
But he was also no longer invisible.
[High Above — The Council Table]
The ground itself cracked under the weight of divine rage.
Seraphyne stood tall at the center of the gods' table, silver fire raging around her armor.
Across from her, Igris lounged lazily, a mockery of calm — but his war-aura boiled in the air, vibrating reality itself.
Seraphyne's voice thundered:
"You crossed the line, War God!"
"Murdering Utah, rigging the laws — and you dare call yourself righteous?!"
Zerathis stepped forward, arms crossed, a smirk pulling at his stolen lips.
"Even for you, Igris… that was messy."
Igris shrugged, a flash of sharp teeth in his grin:
"Law is for the weak."
"Only strength matters in the end."
The table shook.
The sky cracked.
The mortal continent trembled below as the gods argued.
The other gods around the table looked between them — some fearful, some furious — but none dared speak yet, just a glimpse from igris could scar them for life.
Seraphyne's silver hair floated upward as power surged around her:
"Then hear me, War Dog," she said, voice razor-sharp.
"Touch the boy again — and you'll have me to deal with."
She didn't raise her sword.
She didn't have to.
Igris only chuckled — a deep, ancient sound like mountains crumbling.
"We shall see."
[Moments Later]
Beneath the broken council, hidden from mortal and godly eyes, Seraphyne met Zerathis in a silent room of marble.
Their auras flickered low, hidden.
Seraphyne folded her arms.
"He won't survive alone. Not now that the hybrids have started to stir."
Zerathis — half-amused, half-deadly serious — nodded.
"The boy is a lightning rod. He'll either destroy this rotten order… or be crushed by it."
They looked at each other.
No more words needed.
An unspoken oath was made.
They would protect Dante — in the shadows, in secret — until he was strong enough to stand on his own, he might've been strong to fight the wave, but he wasn't ready for the storm.
[Elsewhere — In the Dark]
At the edge of the world, where no stars dared shine, Igris gathered his generals.
A war map burned in red flame between them — lands marked, armies summoned.
His crimson war-cape flared as he slammed a hand into the center of the map.
"The hybrids think they have a savior," he snarled.
"Let them. Let them gather. Let them hope."
His smile was death incarnate.
"It will make crushing them so much sweeter."
In the darkness behind him, a hundred monstrous warlords roared in approval.