Red Hook Terminal – Night
Steam curled off the mutant's corpse, the air still thick with ash and burnt ozone.
Elsa lowered her sword, shoulders trembling from exhaustion, and let out a slow breath. The Bloodgem beneath her collar dimmed to a faint pulse — the heartbeat of a fight finally over.
Dante stood a few paces away, coat torn and smoking, grinning like a man who'd just walked out of a bar brawl instead of an apocalypse. Beside him, the woman in the black catsuit trimmed with white fur adjusted a pink Hello Kitty backpack like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Felicia caught Dante's glance and handed him the bag.
"Your turn, hero."
Dante turned, eyes flicking toward Elsa.
"Didn't think you'd be here, Red." He tossed the bag her way with a casual underhand. "But hey — you need this more than I do."
Elsa caught it on reflex — heavier than it looked. She unzipped it and blinked. Boxes of pistol and shotgun shells gleamed inside, neatly organized.
"Care package from the cat?" she asked.
Felicia smirked. "I packed whatever was left in Dante's motel."
Elsa hesitated, then glanced at Dante. The adrenaline was wearing off, and something almost human crept through her guard. She met his grin with a huff that almost sounded like a laugh.
"…Thank you," she muttered, eyes shifting away. "Not that I couldn't have managed."
Dante chuckled, tilting his head. "Yeah, sure. You only had, what — a small army and a glowing death machine on you?"
Felicia's eyebrow arched. "Oh-ho. That tone." She sauntered closer, hands on hips. "You two sound cozy already."
Elsa straightened, instantly defensive. "We're not — it's not — I barely tolerate him."
Dante grinned wider. "See? 'Barely tolerate.' That's basically love in British."
Felicia laughed, extending a gloved hand toward Elsa.
"Relax, sweetheart. Name's Black Cat — professional thief, part-time do-gooder, and current sidekick to this motor-wielding madman right here."
Elsa eyed the hand, then took it with a firm shake.
"Elsa Bloodstone. Monster hunter. Currently regretting every life choice that led to this conversation."
"Charmed," Felicia said, still smiling. "So… you and Dante aren't a thing?"
Elsa blinked. "Absolutely not." Her voice cracked just high enough to betray her. "He's… infuriating."
Felicia grinned like a cat that smelled gossip. "Uh-huh."
Dante holstered his pistols with a spin, pretending not to listen. "Alright, ladies — less heart-to-heart, more reloading. Whatever's left in that warehouse might still be moving."
Elsa zipped the backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. "Fine. But we're having a chat about your definition of 'timing' later."
Dante winked. "Can't help it, sweetheart. I make an entrance."
Elsa rolled her eyes, though a faint smile ghosted her lips. "You're impossible."
Dante smirked. "Yeah, but you keep saying that with a smile."
The mutant wasn't dead.
It never stayed dead. Its chest convulsed, molten blood bubbling in hissing spurts. Broken ribs knitted with metallic shrieks. Its roar tore through the pier, loud enough to shake the cargo cranes.
Dante cracked his neck and grinned. "Round two, ugly. Don't keep me waiting."
The creature charged through the smoke — a mountain of alloy and rage.
Dante met it halfway.
He slid across the wet steel, Ebony & Ivory flashing in perfect rhythm. Every shot rang like thunder, sparking off armor and driving it back.
"C'mon," he taunted, holstering mid-spin and drawing Rebellion in one smooth motion. "You can do better than that."
The mutant swung; Dante parried, steel screaming against steel. He twisted, dragging the blade across its midsection in a burst of sparks, then kicked it back with Ifrit igniting around his fists.
He slammed a flaming punch into its chest. The dock shuddered under the impact, molten blood spraying across the rain-slick ground.
"Warming up yet?"
The monster roared, throwing a haymaker the size of a car. Dante ducked under, flipped backward, and unleashed a fiery uppercut that launched the beast skyward in a plume of crimson fire.
Elsa fired before it even hit the ground. "Show-off!"
"Teamwork, Red!" he shouted back.
She racked her shotgun and fired again, the Bloodgem's glow bright under her coat. Each blast hit like thunder, driving the creature back into the ground.
Then — behind her — movement.
Three smaller hybrids crawled from the wreckage, claws scraping concrete.
Felicia turned just as the shard in her chest flared to life. Her claws extended with a metallic snap, veins glowing faint gold beneath the catsuit.
"What the hell—"
One hybrid lunged. Reflex took over. She spun low, slashing upward; her claws tore through its skull, and fire erupted from the wound — real, living hellfire licking across her fingers.
The creature shrieked and turned to ash.
Felicia blinked. "Okay… that's new."
Another came at her from behind. She dodged effortlessly — faster than she'd ever moved — and countered with a mid-air rake that sent a streak of fire cutting through the fog. The hybrid combusted before it landed.
Elsa glanced over her shoulder between shots. "Your first time breathing fire, darling?"
Felicia, wide-eyed, exhaled smoke. "Apparently!"
"Then welcome to the club!" Elsa reloaded. "Try not to burn the rest of us."
The mutant bellowed again, staggering upright. Chunks of armor sloughed off to reveal glowing white veins, light bleeding from its cracked core.
Dante twirled Rebellion, flames dancing from Ifrit still strapped to his forearms.
"Alright, big guy," he said, voice dripping with confidence. "Let's dance. You lead — I'll make you regret it."
The creature swung both arms, smashing cranes aside.
Dante dashed through the debris, sliding under the strike and carving upward with Rebellion. The blade cleaved molten chunks free. He followed with a double-Ifrit combo, fists detonating in flame against its jaw.
Elsa's rifle cracked in perfect sync, bullets shattering joints. Felicia blurred across the pier, claws blazing, raking through exposed muscle.
Dante laughed between hits. "That's more like it!"
Felicia flipped backward, landing beside him, claws still burning. "You're insane!"
"Yeah," Dante grinned. "But it's working."
The mutant slammed its hand into the dock, sending out a shockwave. Elsa rolled, came up on one knee, and fired a point-blank shell into its leg.
Felicia darted in, slashing both claws upward in an X — hellfire trailing the motion. The blast severed tendons, dropping the creature to one knee.
"Nice cut, Cat!" Dante called.
"Didn't know I could do that!"
Elsa snapped another shell into place. "Keep improvising, love — you're doing fine."
The mutant raised its head, molten light flooding its eyes, and roared again.
Dante smirked. "Alright, team — let's finish this."
He pointed Rebellion forward. "Red, take the sides!"
"Already there," Elsa answered.
"Cat, light it up!"
Felicia's claws ignited, twin trails of hellfire streaking behind her as she sprinted forward. "Gladly!"
They hit together.
Dante vaulted high, Rebellion spinning in his hands. Flames from Ifrit trailed his arms as he came down like a meteor, blade-first, carving a glowing arc across the creature's chest.
Elsa's shotgun boomed in rhythm, each blast cracking its armor open.
Felicia dashed beneath the sparks, claws glowing white-hot as she sliced clean through its throat.
The mutant convulsed, molten veins bursting outward before the light in its chest finally died.
Silence. Only rain and the faint hum of cooling metal remained.
Felicia straightened, chest heaving. "Tell me that was the last one."
Elsa lowered her weapon. "For now."
Dante slung Rebellion onto his shoulder, flames fading from Ifrit. "Not bad for a night's work."
Felicia smirked. "Next time, I'm driving."
Dante grinned, walking between them. "Can't promise that, sweetheart. But hey — you looked good out there."
Elsa rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. "You're impossible."
"Yeah," he said, "but admit it — you'd miss me if I were gone."
Warehouse 47
The rain hadn't stopped; it only fell quieter now — a whisper against twisted metal and the smoldering ruins of Warehouse 9.
Elsa slung her shotgun over her shoulder, boots splashing through puddles glowing faintly red in the emergency lights. The Bloodgem's pulse had steadied, but she still felt its weight — a low, uneasy rhythm that hadn't faded since the fight.
"Whatever Fisk was hiding here," she murmured, scanning the scorched dock, "it isn't over."
Dante kicked aside a chunk of molten debris. "You think?" he said with a faint smirk. "Whole place looks like it threw up a demonic science fair."
Felicia crouched beside a broken datapad half-buried in ash. The screen flickered, showing a corrupted manifest:
WAREHOUSE 47 – BIO HOLDING CELL ACTIVE.
She looked up. "There's your next horror show."
Elsa wiped soot from the display. "Warehouse 47… east pier. Two klicks behind the fuel tanks."
Dante tilted his head, Rebellion resting on his shoulder. "And I'm guessing it's not storing Christmas decorations."
Elsa's expression darkened. "If the files from earlier are right, that's where they moved the survivors."
Felicia's voice went soft. "That means Clara should be there… right?"
Elsa hesitated, then nodded once. "Yes. If all goes well—wait, how do you know her?"
Felicia's usual teasing composure broke. Her eyes glistened, voice dropping to a whisper.
"She's my friend. My best friend. I was supposed to meet her the night she disappeared." Her throat tightened. "I was late."
Dante's grin faded. His tone softened, steady but firm. "Then let's not waste another second."
The building loomed through the fog like a tomb. Floodlights hummed overhead, casting long shadows across wet asphalt. The metal doors were sealed, rimmed with frost and biohazard warnings.
Felicia's claws slid from her gloves with a soft snikt as she crouched beside the security panel. Sparks flickered under her touch, and the locks disengaged with a metallic click.
"After you," she said quietly.
Inside, the air was cold — sterile, humming with machines that had no right to exist outside a nightmare. Rows of containment pods stretched the length of the chamber. Each glowed faint blue, holding a person inside — men, women, even children. Some barely moved. Some didn't move at all.
Elsa froze. "Bloody hell…"
Felicia's breath trembled. "They were experimenting on them…"
Dante brushed frost from a pod's glass. "It's not a lab," he said quietly. "It's a holding cell."
Elsa moved to the nearest console, fingers flying across the keys. Encrypted data streamed past until one name froze her cold:
HAYES, CLARA — SUBJECT H-47-B.
Her stomach tightened. "Bloody hell…"
Felicia leaned over her shoulder, breath catching as she read. "That's her."
Before anyone could stop her, Felicia was already moving.
She bolted down the corridor, boots echoing against metal, heart pounding louder than the alarms.
She turned a corner — and froze.
A faint voice drifted from behind reinforced glass.
"…Felicia?"
Felicia's chest seized. "Clara?" she whispered.
She ran to the pod. Inside, Clara Hayes floated in cold mist — pale, unconscious, but alive.
Felicia's hand hit the glass. "Clara… oh God." Her voice cracked. "It's really you."
Her usual smirk — the easy charm — was gone. She looked fragile, human, raw.
"She's breathing," Elsa said softly, scanning the vitals. "Still sedated, but stable."
Felicia pressed her forehead to the glass, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Thank God you're alive," she whispered. "I'm sorry it took me this long."
Dante looked around at hundreds of other pods still sealed and glowing faintly. His jaw tightened. "There's more. A lot more."
He slammed his fist through the nearest console. Sparks burst. Pods began releasing one by one — vents hissing, seals breaking. People collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
Elsa turned sharply. "Dante! You'll overload the system!"
He ignored her, yanking another lever. "They deserve to breathe."
Felicia rushed to help a woman who stumbled free, wrapping her coat around her shoulders. "They're alive… oh my God, they're alive."
Dante grabbed a phone off the wall and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah, hi — I need every cop, medic, and hazmat suit you've got at Red Hook Terminal. You've got human-trafficking victims and a whole lotta explaining to do."
A garbled voice sputtered, "Identify yourself—"
"Just tell them the Devil made you do it," Dante said, hanging up.
He turned to Elsa. "Get Clara loose."
Elsa worked quickly, disconnecting the main power feed to Clara's pod. The locks hissed open. She and Felicia caught Clara before she hit the floor.
"She's stable," Elsa confirmed. "We need to move."
Felicia brushed Clara's damp hair from her face. "You're okay, baby. I got you."
They carried her through the wreckage, stepping around freed captives as they coughed and sobbed in relief.
Dante paused near the exit, looking back one last time. The air was thick with steam and red warning lights. The people they'd freed huddled together, blinking through the haze — alive because he'd chosen to act.
For once, Dante said nothing clever. He just exhaled, rubbing a thumb along the rosary hanging from his neck.
"Is this what you meant when you said to make it mean something?"
Outside, rain hit like applause. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
Felicia cradled Clara as they reached the pier. "She's still out cold," she said softly.
"She'll live," Elsa replied.
They stood for a moment — three silhouettes under the storm, emergency lights painting the fog blue and red.
Felicia broke the silence. "That thing you said back there," she asked quietly, glancing at Dante, "about making it mean something… who told you that?"
Dante stopped walking. His fingers brushed the rosary again — small, blackened from fire, worn smooth by time.
"Someone who thought I could do better," he said, voice low.
Felicia watched him for a beat, then gave a small, tired smile. "Looks like they were right."
Dante smirked faintly, tucking the rosary back beneath his shirt. "Guess even a devil can learn."
They kept walking — Dante in front, Elsa beside him, Felicia behind with Clara in her arms. The sirens faded into the rain.
For the first time in a long while, Dante felt like he'd done something that mattered.
And as the storm swallowed their silhouettes, the rosary at his neck swayed softly — catching the faintest glint of light before the darkness claimed it.