The ground trembled as the ominous footsteps drew closer. The air grew thicker, almost suffocating, as if Hell itself was holding its breath in anticipation. From the shadows, a figure emerged, cloaked in smoke and flame, its presence radiating raw power.
"Anakin," Dante hissed, nudging him roughly. "We’re not sticking around to find out who—or what—that is. Got it?"
"Not like I was planning on staying for tea," Anakin muttered, his voice trembling despite his attempt at humor.
The figure stepped closer, revealing itself. It was a towering demon, its body a grotesque blend of molten rock and sinew, with jagged horns curling back from its skull. Eyes like pits of molten gold glared down at them, and its mouth split into a wicked grin filled with serrated teeth.
"Dante," the demo
