Dante's eyes shot open, his body jerking as if pulled from a deep, suffocating sleep. Cold sweat dripped down his brow, and his breath came in ragged gasps. The chamber was eerily silent now, save for the faint hum of energy emanating from the orb that had nearly consumed him. He sat up slowly, muscles tense, his mind replaying the dark figure's words.
Serve me... The shadows are mine to command, and through them, so are you.
Dante gritted his teeth, shaking off the lingering fog of the encounter. His hands clenched into fists. No one would control him—not some ancient, disembodied presence, and certainly not the shadows he had sought to master.
"Is that all you've got?" he growled under his breath, rising to his feet, defiance flaring in his eyes.
The room remained quiet, the oppressive energy fading, but something had changed within him. The power he had taken from the orb had left a mark, a thread of connection to something far greater than himself. He could feel it—the shadows coursing through his veins, responding to his will with newfound intensity.
Dante extended his hand, summoning the shadows. They flickered in the air before him, swirling like smoke, awaiting his command. This was no longer the hesitant manipulation of mere tendrils. They bent to his will with precision and ease, flowing like an extension of his very being.
I am the master of this power, Dante thought, tightening his grip on the shadows. Not the other way around.
The system's voice echoed in his mind, calm and emotionless as ever.
[Shadow Manipulation: Level 2 fully integrated. New abilities unlocked.]
A smirk curled at Dante's lips. Whatever the figure in the darkness had planned, he wasn't going to let it succeed. He'd control this power, bend it to his desires, and use it to carve his path to dominance.
Still, the encounter had raised questions—questions about the true nature of the shadows he wielded. Where had they come from? What kind of ancient force had laid claim to them? And more importantly, what other secrets had been buried in this temple, forgotten for centuries?
Dante turned his gaze back to the orb resting on the pedestal, its surface still pulsating faintly. Whatever had drawn him here wasn't finished. There was more power to be uncovered, and the shadows were only a fragment of the temple's true potential.
Before he could move toward the orb again, a sound caught his attention—the soft scuff of footsteps echoing from the staircase behind him.
Selene appeared at the top of the stairs, her expression grim but determined. She hadn't stayed behind as he had ordered. Of course she hadn't.
"You couldn't follow a simple command, could you?" Dante's voice was flat, though there was a hint of exasperation beneath it.
Selene descended the stairs, her eyes scanning the chamber, taking in the ominous runes, the orb, and the flickering shadows that surrounded Dante. "I wasn't about to let you face whatever's down here alone," she said, her voice steely. "You're reckless, Dante. You don't know what you're messing with."
"I know exactly what I'm doing," Dante replied, his gaze never leaving the orb. "This power—it's mine. I've already taken control of it."
Selene's eyes narrowed. "That's not the point. You have no idea what kind of consequences come with playing around with ancient forces like this. The shadows… they're alive, Dante. They aren't just tools you can use and discard."
"Then I'll make them obey me," Dante snapped, turning toward her, shadows swirling ominously around his feet. "I didn't come here to be lectured, Selene. You wanted to follow me? Fine. But don't expect me to stop just because you're afraid of what I can become."
Selene crossed her arms, her expression hard. "I'm not afraid of you, Dante. I'm afraid of what you'll do to yourself if you keep going down this path."
Dante's eyes flashed with irritation, the shadows around him darkening as his emotions flared. He was done with this conversation. He didn't need Selene's concern, and he certainly didn't need her judgment. Power was his only goal, and nothing else mattered.
But before he could respond, the shadows in the chamber shifted once again. The air grew cold, and a low, guttural voice echoed from the walls, the same voice that had spoken to him earlier.
"You think you have control, mortal? The shadows are not yours to command. They serve only one master—and it is not you."
Dante's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as the figure from before materialized once again, its form coalescing from the darkness. It towered over him, a being of pure shadow, its eyes glowing with malevolent light.
Selene took a step back, her hand instinctively going to the blade at her side. "Dante, what is that thing?"
"It's nothing I can't handle," Dante replied coldly, summoning the shadows to his side. "You want me to serve you?" he spat, his voice filled with defiance. "I don't serve anyone."
The figure chuckled, the sound deep and mocking. "You are but a child, playing with forces beyond your comprehension. The shadows will consume you, and when they do, you will beg for the release of death."
Dante's eyes burned with fury. He wouldn't be intimidated. Not by this thing, not by the shadows, and not by the consequences Selene feared so much.
With a swift motion, he unleashed the shadows at the figure, the dark tendrils lashing out with deadly precision. They struck the figure, but instead of recoiling, the shadows simply dissolved into the creature's form, as if absorbed by it.
The figure laughed again, its voice filling the chamber. "You cannot harm me with what is already mine."
Dante's mind raced, but he refused to back down. If his usual attacks wouldn't work, then he needed to think bigger, to push the limits of his power even further.
The figure lunged forward, its massive hand reaching for him. But before it could touch him, Dante's instincts kicked in. He extended his arm, summoning not just the shadows around him, but the very darkness within the chamber itself. It surged toward him, wrapping around his body like a protective barrier.
The figure halted, its glowing eyes narrowing. "Interesting…"
Dante's smirk returned. "I told you. I'm in control."
With a roar, the figure lunged again, but this time, Dante was ready. He poured every ounce of his will into the shadows, commanding them to strike. The darkness responded, swirling around the figure like a tempest, tearing at its form.
The figure howled, its voice a mixture of rage and pain as the shadows consumed it. But even as it was torn apart, it spoke one final, chilling sentence.
"You will never escape the shadows, Dante. They will be your undoing."
And with that, the figure dissolved into nothingness, leaving only silence in its wake.
Dante stood there for a moment, his chest heaving with exertion. He could still feel the shadows coursing through him, stronger than ever. But the figure's words lingered in his mind, a dark warning that refused to fade.
Selene approached cautiously, her eyes filled with concern. "Dante... what just happened?"
Dante didn't answer right away. He looked down at his hands, watching as the shadows swirled around his fingers, obedient but unpredictable.
"I've unlocked a power greater than I ever imagined," he said quietly, his voice hollow. "But I'm not done yet."
He turned toward the exit, his eyes set with determination. There was still more to learn, more power to claim. And nothing—not ancient beings, not warnings, and certainly not Selene—was going to stop him.