The light from the impact hadn't completely dissipated when something inside began to move.
It wasn't a desperate reaction, nor a body thrown uncontrollably. It was a step.
Slow.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
The column of energy connecting heaven and coliseum began to fragment from within, as if being corroded by an opposing force that refused to be extinguished. Dark fissures appeared in the luminous structure of the lightning bolt, cracks that didn't belong to electricity, but to the very authority that sustained it. Then, with a dry snap, the discharge split in two and exploded outwards in scattered currents that streaked across the isolated horizon created by Alice.
In the center of the newly formed crater, Dante stood.
His body was scarred. His clothes partially charred. Small sparks still traced his skin, dancing like remnants of an energy that hadn't managed to finish its work. Smoke rose slowly around him, but his eyes… his eyes were more alive than before.
