Nightfall — GreyDistrict
Starving children ran barefoot. Adults watched them without worrying, after all it's normal.
Dante walked through without stopping. Before him stood a building, architecture reminiscent of an old cathedral. The sign in golden letters read :
Cinder Bank & Associates — Debts and Inheritances.
A concierge greeted him, polite, dressed in a tailored suit.
— "Welcome, sir. Debtor's name ?"
Dante stabbed her eye with a blade.
— Debtor : Malek Caledron.
— Debt : My mother's eyes.
And he entered.
---
Worker, their hands bound by mental chains, typed on archaic keyboards. Screams echoed from the lower levels. A man tried to flee.
He begged to have his debt erased. They dragged him off. He cried. Repeating a single word : Malek... Malek...
At the back of the room stood a vault door. And two guards, they were massive, shaved heads, dressed in leather.
Word were inscribed on their arms — each spell they endured seemed to make them stronger. Human golems of a kind.
Dante snapped his fingers — a violet explosion. He screamed, his skin melting.
He rolled, dodging the other's punch, his dagger finding its heart.
Nothing. It had lost its heart long ago. So he aimed for the neck. Then the eyes. Then the kidneys — and though they seemed immune, blood loss finished the job.
The guards' blood wasn't red. It was viscous sludge, filled with tiny wailing souls.
---
Malek Caledron's Chamber
A wickerwood desk, red curtains. And there, seated in an armchair — Malek.
An elegant man, sexy gaze. Black tie, white gloves. He didn't get up.
— "Hey Dante. I hoped you'd come."
— "You knew I would ?"
— "You've been making quite a scene for some time now, so I assumed my turn would come." Said Malek, fingers interlaced.
— "Shut up."
Dante clenched his fists. He wanted to kill him now. But Malek went on :
— "You know nothing about your mother. She came to borrow... for you. She knew it would cost her vision — or worse. She chose to say nothing, to suffer. So you could live... and become a great men."
Dante trembled.
— "You lie."
— "Sure, I'm a banker. Between laundering money and other illegal business, I lie plenty. But you know better than anyone that down here, hard work alone doesn't get you far."
He snapped his fingers. Behind him, a glass box. Inside, a spectral eye floating in golden fluid.
— "Here is her vision. Intact. I've kept it as collateral since the debt."
The ground trembled—barely perceptible—under the pressure of the energy building up in Dante's clenched fist.
A glow flared from between his knuckles, first violet, then shifting into a blazing red. Lightning arced down his forearms.
Opposite him, Malek stood.
Smirking, calm disdain in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly, hands clasped behind his back like he was watching a child throw a tantrum.
— "Is that all you've got?" he mocked.
That was the spark.
Dante launched forward.
A shockwave erupted beneath his feet as he surged ahead, splitting the asphalt in a perfect circle.
But Malek didn't flinch, he vanished.
Not teleportation—just a forward flip executed in less than a blink. In the next instant, he was behind Dante.
And struck.
His fist drove into Dante's back like a cannonball, launching him through a wall.
The shockwave blasted outward, leaving a gaping hole that opened onto a ledge high above empty air.
Dante barely caught the edge, boots skidding on the floor.
— "Shit…" he swore inwardly. That was close.
But he didn't even have time to breathe.
He saw Malek, back turned, digging his own fingernails into the flesh of his left forearm.
He didn't even flinch, he seem enjoyed the pain.
Blood dripped, and turned into gold coins—ten of them—each engraved with a seal : a demonic maw inside an inverted triangle.
Dante staggered back, eyes wide. He knew that symbol. Anyone who'd glimpsed Hell did.
It was the currency of the Abyss : The Devil Coin.
And something had changed.
He looked… older. New wrinkles crept down his neck, his hair turning silver. The ritual had aged him. But in exchange…
The energy radiating from him was no longer human.
— "He traded years of his life… for immediate power." Dante realized.
But before he could act, Malek moved.
Not just movement—a monstrous leap. His fist, now wreathed in swirling golden aura, smashed straight into Dante's face, staggering him instantly.
— "Too bad… You weren't half bad-looking. After this, even your mom won't recognize you."
— "Khuhh…!"
Dante didn't even get the chance to cry out before his body was torn from the ledge, sent flying, then smashed into the pavement.
Around them, civilians froze.
They wanted to run—but something primal held them still. As if even the slightest movement meant death.
Malek was already above Dante.
And he struck one kick. Then another, again and again.
— "You gonna die like a dog ?!" a voice screamed inside Dante's head—maybe his own.
Survival instinct kicked in. He caught Malek's ankle just as it came down again and hurled him.
Malek flew across the street and crashed through the window of a ruined bar, bouncing off a table.
But Dante didn't wait, he was already here.
Arms full of bottles—each charged with red energy—and he hurled them one by one at blinding speed.
Malek slashed through them all with a business card.
Just a simple rectangle of paper slicing through enchanted glass like soap bubble and he walked forward.
— "This your big plan? Throwing tantrum attacks like some teenage girl?"
They clashed again—close-range combat, brutally fast.
Dante's fists striking with crimson lightning. Blow after blow landed, each one trailing energy across Malek's body.
And suddenly, Malek collapsed.
Dante jumped, gathering power, and brought a heel down in a crushing axe kick.
The ground split beneath it, a crevasse tearing open.
But just as he thought it was over, tendrils of energy shot out from the dust cloud and impaled his shoulders, dragging him toward the rift and hurling him off the platform.
He felt them drain his life force—massive cords draining his strength.
— "You drained me only to end up more drained than I am!"
— "Oh yeah ?"
A blade of energy formed around Dante's hands, cutting the tendrils.
— "That level of Nexus energy control… impressive." Malek thought to himself.
The rails shook. A train was coming. A white light pierced the darkness—blinding.
Dante knelt on the tracks, gasping for breath, arms bloodied and raw.
His life energy was still knitting itself back together after the brutal drain. The train roared toward him.
And Malek watched from the platform, smiling like an executioner savoring the inevitable.
But then… the smile faltered. Because Dante smirked.
— "Sovereign March."
Everything stopped.
The train screeched to a halt, passengers screaming inside—but on the rails, there was no body.
— "What?!" Malek gasped, stepping back.
Dante reappeared behind him, eyes glowing red. In his hand, a jagged shard of glass plunged toward Malek's heart.
But it shattered on impact with his shoulder blade. Not because Dante missed.
Because Malek wasn't human anymore.
His skin was metal-hard. One of the ten Devil Coins burned out, vanishing in a flash of light.
— "Nine left." Dante muttered, leaping back, mind racing.
— "Surprised?" Malek laughed, eyes wild. "Each coin lets me rewrite my own rules."
Dante stood still, assessing. Rushing in blindly was suicide against someone who'd traded their life for raw power.
Malek waited. Motionless.
Around them, metro passengers finally ran, hid in the cars, crying, praying—realizing they were caught in something beyond comprehension.
Dante glanced at them. He couldn't afford a single mistake.
— "Explain your power." he said coldly.
Malek raised an eyebrow. Then grinned, like he'd been waiting for this.
— "Gladly," he said, raising his hand—now showing nine coins. "Each coin is forged from a sacrifice. Years of my life. One coin per year. They let me twist probability, boost my strength, my defense—anything. Limited only by imagination."
— "And your lifespan." Dante replied flatly.
— "I'll burn every last second if it means crushing you."
— "How far will you go?"
— "Far enough to kill you."
Dante clenched his jaw. The bastard's insane… but he was vulnerable. Each activation aged him. It was clear now.
I just have to buy time.
But Malek wasn't finished. He raised five coins, spinning them in his palm.
A black vortex opened—and from it emerged an ancient briefcase, wrapped in black chains and marked with a golden seal :
The Coffret of Mammon.
Dante's eyes widened.
— "You didn't…"
— "The Karmic Balance." Malek confirmed, unlocking the case.
A golden light burst out. A massive scale erupted from the case, slamming onto the ground and growing until it towered over them. At the top, Mammon's face was carved in gold—demon of injustice.
— "Behold the Karmic Balance," Malek declared like a preacher. "It judges your deeds. Rewards or punishes accordingly. Hope you've been good, Dante… or you're screwed."
But Dante just smiled, a smile that chilled Malek to the bone.
— "Fool," he whispered. "You don't even know the game you're playing."
He knew what Malek didn't : the Balance was a trap. A rigged artifact loyal only to its true master. Anyone else risked chaos—or worse.
The Balance glowed violently. Red lightning burst forth. The plates dipped—
A red bolt struck Malek head-on. He screamed in agony.
Then a black beam hit Dante. But instead of harm—it filled him with monstrous power. His senses sharpened, his aura surged.
The Blessing of Greed.
A short-lived boost. Use it wisely—or pay the price. Dante steadied himself.
— "Even if you had the blessing," he said to the trembling Malek, "you'd never control it."
Malek's body shook. His arms barely held him. His face was sagging, skin slack, hair gray—aged by his own ambition.
— "Clairvoyance."
From the platform, Dante watched, calm and calculating.
Every heartbeat, every muscle—he read Malek's body like a book.
He's already fought others before me. His reserves are running dry. His resonance is unstable. Skin degrading… At this rate, five years left. Maybe less.
Still… Malek grinned.
— "Five years ? Exactly. Then now's it's time."
He opened the case again—this time, no weapon, no coin.
Just… papers. Bank documents floated into the air, swirling around him.
— "You know what these are, Dante?" he asked solemnly. "My contracts with Mammon. Every debt, every favor I've ever taken. They all have weight. And now…"
He extended his hand. The papers flew toward Dante.
— "…you'll pay the bill."
The first scroll—golden—slammed against Dante's chest.
Instantly, he felt his power drain. His bright red energy dimmed.
— "What the—?!"
FWAP. FWAP. FWAP.
Three… four… five more scrolls latched onto him. Each one taking away a piece of his speed, his strength, his focus.
Dante staggered, his heartbeat raced.
In front of him, Malek rose into a swirling barrier of paper.
The scrolls encased him, forming a floating cocoon that shut the world out. Inside, he chanted in a demonic tongue.
A final attack.
Dante felt it like a seismic pulse. Malek's energy wasn't just destructive—it was obliterating.
— "No. I can't… let him finish this."
Every step toward the barrier became heavier. His knees buckled under the weight.
Then, he spoke—not as a warrior, but as a man.
— "Stop…" he said, voice cracked with effort. "You still have five years. Five years to change… to repent."
He reached out and touched the barrier. His fingers barely grazed it before a wave of razor-sharp energy slashed them back—like invisible blades. But he held on.
— "I'm begging you. This isn't pity. It's not because I think I've lost. It's because… you still have a choice."
But Malek didn't listen.
His eyes were closed. His mind, far away. The aura around him intensified.
That's when Dante realized—he wasn't going to stop him alone.
And at that moment…
Ginny appeared. A shadow slithered across the floor, rising like living vapor.
Without a word, her body shifted—stretching, expanding—until she took the form of a massive shadow dragon.
Without hesitation, she dove straight into the barrier, devouring it, Malek and all.
Dante placed a hand over his side, red light beneath his fingers.
— "Atlantic Ocean. Now."
And they vanished.
---
A few seconds later, in the subway…
Cracks spidered along the station walls. Clocks ticked backward, colors bled from the world.
And at the center—Mammon.
Its body was arachnid—eight golden legs, an abdomen riddled with closed eyes.
— "You can't even speak, can you ? Even your soul has frozen before me." Its voice didn't come from a mouth… it echoed inside Dante's consciousness.
Dante stood frozen, throat clenched. His mortal body refused to move—but inside, his will burned.
He faced this being like he faced every opponent—with the silent resolve of a warrior with nothing left to prove.
— "I recognize this energy… You're not just another awakened. You're…"
Mammon's many eyes widened.
— "...Kang Soo Jin. The Demon's Nightmare," he whispered. "The Uncrowned."
He tilted his head with amusement.
— "And look at you now… Trapped in a body not your own, wearing a seal feared even by cosmic entities."
Mammon stepped closer, eyeing the glowing numbers on his forehead : 6666666. Seven sixes.
— "The Dante Seal…" he murmured, like a collector admiring a sacred relic. "One of the punishments reserved for intruders… those who enter Hell without invitation or sanction."
Finally, Dante found his voice—rough.
— "…Tell me more."
— "You should know by now, Soo Jin… Nothing is free. Especially not here. But I'll give you answers. Why? Because we have…"
Mammon's eyes burned red.
— "…a mutual enemy."
Dante frowned at the name he hadn't yet heard but already suspected : Klein.
— "I'm listening. But name your terms."
— "Three favors," Mammon said. "I'll call on you three times. You'll do what I ask—no questions, no refusals."
— "I refuse anything that involves my beloved, my life, my soul, my blood, or my conscience."
Mammon grinned—almost admiring.
— "Still arrogant. I accept your terms."
Mammon extended one leg. A black-gold card appeared in the air, marked with a red M.
— "You may ask three questions."
Dante inhaled.
— "What is the Dante Seal ?"
Mammon nodded, like he'd waited eons for that question.
— "It's a limiter—placed on your return to this world. After your death, a council of Beyonders[1] gathered. Some wanted you cast into Gehenna[2] forever. Others… wanted you back, but weakened, so you wouldn't tip the balance. The compromise was the seal. It stunts your growth… and it attracts those who want to make sure you never become… you."
— "Then who allowed me to return at all?"
Mammon chuckled.
— "Our dear Gula. A fragment of your soul. Because you are one… the Book of Life couldn't determine if you were truly dead. It's also why this world still exists—a world without an heir collapses."
Dante clenched his fists.
— "Second question: What do you mean by 'heir' ?"
Mammon paused.
— "…Your current vessel isn't ready to hear that," he said quietly. "But you were never fully human. You are the heir to what was once called… the Nameless Throne[3]."
Dante swallowed hard.
— "Third question. How do I reclaim my full power ?"
Mammon tilted his head again, amused.
— "Simple. Defeat the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins. Each holds a piece of you. When all seven are reclaimed…"
He smiled darkly.
— "You'll become Kang Soo Jin again. And you'll be worse than the end of the world to those who betrayed you."
Mammon began to dissolve, his spider-like form fading into mist.
— "We'll meet again—when I ask for my first favor."
— "Are you the only one who knows who I am ?"
Mammon's laughter was like an avalanche of gold coins.
— "No. But only a few could guess. It would take… superhuman insight. Or divine sight. But relax. Stay low, and they'll never know."
He vanished and the world returned to normal.
Dante straightened. His eyes, once fierce, now carried a hint of unease.
He pocketed the black card. He'd only asked two questions. The last remained.
— "Seven sins, huh ? I already know who Gluttony is…" he sighed.
[1] The beyonders are the agents in charge of managing the cosmic and astral balance between worlds and universes. Their mission is to manage the balance of power, eliminate or imprison potential threats, they are a kind of administrator and each has a world under their responsibility. They are composed of cosmic and astral entities of all kinds, whether angels, demons, constellations. In this universal order, some entities have more power than others when it comes to decisions, so beyonders act as customer service for them.
[2] Hell.
[3] All religions were forgotten during the Great Catastrophe, giving way to the God of the new Church, the Nameless. Other religions also emerged with their own God, demon worship is no longer hidden, and the three great religions were banned in the majority of states.