The wind remained still, as if conspiring with the silence.
Not even the sound of footsteps on the damp ground could be heard.
The space between the trees ahead was obscure—
as if the path to the truth had been sealed behind the shadows.
Then, as though time itself had been affected by what was happening,
the trees around them began to sink toward the ground,
as if their roots had been severed.
But they weren't falling… they were being lowered.
As if they were retreating from something—like water recoiling from fire.
And when they all looked—without knowing what compelled them to do so—
they found themselves facing a dark point at the heart of the forest.
It was as if the entire forest was breathing through it…
then held its breath.
At that point, the light began to fade gradually—
as though a stage were being draped in tassels of shadow,
as if the earth itself wanted to conceal something that should never be seen.
And at the faint edge of the pit that began to form before them,
sound returned.
But this time, it wasn't a human sound.
It was deep… fractured…
as if it came from the depths of the earth itself:
"That moment… was not just a test."
And then, something emerged.
A hand first.
Long, slender, yet bearing unimaginable strength—
its fingers slicing through the air as if tearing it apart.
It pointed downward,
and as it did… the rocks began to crack,
trembling beneath their feet,
as though the very ground was announcing his arrival—
not as a visitor… but as the rightful master.
Yuno took an unconscious step back, gripping Dante's arm.
Yubi drew his sword—but did not raise it.
Dabi… simply stared, eyes unblinking.
Then…
The darkness began to rise from the pit—
not like smoke, but like a living creature.
The darkness was breathing.
And from it… he emerged.
As if the night had taken form…
as if absence had become presence.
Then came his voice…
Stronger this time—
stretching like the hiss of wind in an endless battle,
as though the storm itself had spoken in his place:
"You… are merely echoes of a world time has already passed,
And I… am the truth that shall take form."
And from within the shadows,
which rippled like tongues of pitch-black flame,
he appeared.
He emerged as though Hell had rejected him—
or perhaps the world had done so first,
and Hell merely took him in.
A being who breathed catastrophe.
Tall, as though he had no need for the sky.
Dragging behind him a black cloak,
woven from the ashes of spirits.
He had no features in the usual sense…
His face resembled a mask—
not because it hid something,
but because there was no face to reveal.
The more one tried to focus,
the more his details dissolved—
as if existence itself refused to acknowledge him.
As if reality were ashamed of him…
or afraid.
His long horns bent under what seemed like an eternal weight.
The skin of his arms was cracked and glowing—
as if fire pulsed beneath it,
surging with every word he spoke.
He loomed before them,
his silhouette merging with the darkness.
Not a man—
but an idea.
A curse.
A living denial of what should be.
At last, the villain raised his head…
and his eyes—or what appeared to be eyes—
flickered with something.
Not light—
but an ancient disappointment.
He smiled.
And in that smile was sorrow older than the world itself.
"Do you believe now?"
he whispered, his voice flowing
like part of the wind swirling around them.
"Yes… you cannot escape the consequences of what has happened.
What you think is just a minor conflict…
is merely the beginning—
the beginning of an end… you will not enjoy."
He drew closer—
his steps made no sound, only presence.
It was as if the air itself recoiled before he stepped upon it,
as if space collapsed with each stride.
Every movement he made felt like a deliberate act
from a being incapable of error—
dripping with lethal certainty.
"I've already taken much from you,"
he said in a voice as cold as stone.
"What remains is for you to live…
in the shadows I've left behind."
Then, to everyone's shock,
his single eye, now visible through the veil of darkness,
locked onto Dante.
That eye—
it looked like a hole in the world,
pulling in light,
pulling in certainty,
pulling in everything stable.
And when he spoke again,
his words pierced Dante's chest like frozen arrows:
"But… I won't kill you now. No. Not yet."
He turned his gaze to the other three—
Yuno, Dabi, and Yubi.
A strange look crossed his face…
as if they were open books he had read before.
"You need to see this world crumble before your eyes."
He stepped toward Dante,
and his voice—
unnaturally calm,
yet harsher than a thousand screams:
"Because you…
are not even worthy of death yet."
Dante,
his eyes boiling with anger, confusion, and repressed fear,
finally shouted,
as though the voice inside him had been clawing its way out:
"You think you know me?!
You know nothing about me!"
The villain smiled…
not a victorious smile,
but the smile of someone who already knows the ending,
and watches the chapters repeat themselves.
"Oh…"
he whispered, tilting his faceless head ever so slightly.
"I know you more than you know yourself, Dante."
Then, in a low voice—
tinged with what seemed like pity,
but a false pity,
like comfort from a killer:
"Did anyone ever tell you…
that your birth wasn't an accident?
Or are you still clinging to that fading story—
the brave orphan who would change the world?"
Dante stepped back—
just half a step,
but it was enough.
Enough to betray that his heart was racing.
Not only from fear…
but doubt.
"What are you… saying?"
The villain began to circle him,
as if drawing a binding ring with his words,
each sentence another chain
tightening around the neck of truth:
"Do you think all of this is coincidence? No.
You weren't born to fight…
but to be seen.
And now… eyes are beginning to open."
Then he leaned in,
close to Dante's ear,
and whispered in a voice soft as silk,
yet laced with doom:
"They're suffering now…
because of you."
A heavy silence fell.
Even the whispering wind had vanished.
As if the entire forest…
held its breath.
From afar,
Yubi cried out in a trembling voice as he struggled to rise, his body exhausted:
"Don't listen to him, Dante! He's—"
But the villain,
without even turning,
cut his words off with a sharp whisper.
It wasn't a scream—
but stronger than any roar:
"Silence. You are but a shadow.
You have no voice here."
Then, he turned his gaze back to Dante.
This time,
his voice shifted…
like a father speaking to a confused son,
or a sorcerer murmuring a truth no one wants spoken aloud.
"You see? From the very beginning… they've feared you.
Even those who call themselves your companions."
He paused,
then continued—
his tone quieter, yet laced with venomous truth:
"Have you not noticed?
How they leave you behind in danger?
How they look at you when you fall into long silences?
As if you were a riddle…
one no one wishes to solve.
As if you were… a nightmare with a familiar face."
Dante gripped his sword's sheath tightly.
His hands trembled,
veins throbbing as if they would burst—
but he couldn't speak.
Words betrayed him,
as answers once did.
The villain smiled—
a false smile, heavy with mock pity.
The kind of sadness reserved for someone
whose end is already written.
"You are not a savior…
You are an event.
Something not meant to be understood…
but to be feared,
to be expected—
to explode."
He stepped closer…
so close his hand nearly touched Dante's forehead.
His finger rose slowly,
so slowly it seemed time itself bowed beneath it,
and he said:
"You… are the reason."
Dante, eyes wide with confusion,
asked in a hoarse voice,
as if the truth was suffocating in his chest:
"The reason… for what?"
The villain's voice dropped to a whisper,
a whisper that held a promise—
of death,
of chaos,
of a truth no soul survives:
"For their banishment.
For their pain.
For their shattering…
For the void that walks this earth
since the moment you appeared."
He leaned in closer,
his words now pulsing in the air like a second heartbeat:
"Haven't you ever asked yourself…
why you weren't swallowed with them?"
Silence.
A bitter silence—
as if even the forest waited for an answer.
The villain continued,
with the calm of a lock sealing over an eternal truth:
"Because you…
were never banished.
You are—
and have always been…
what makes banishment possible."
Dante,
as if something cracked inside him,
suddenly stepped back—
once, twice…
His eyes welled with unspoken tears,
his face broken like a child
being told the world was never safe.
Dante didn't move.
He stood still,
as if everything around him was shattering—
everything but his face.
But inside him…
was the storm,
was the collapse.
He looked at the villain,
and whispered—
a faint voice barely heard,
carrying no certainty,
only a desperate plea:
"You're lying."
The words weren't defiant.
They were a prayer.
As if he was clinging to one final thread of hope,
that everything he'd heard…
was just venom,
a cruel illusion—nothing more.
But his eyes…
they betrayed him.
They trembled,
as if doubt had entered his heart for the first time—
and no one was there to pull it out.
Suddenly—
Dabi, his face burning with rage, shouted:
"Enough!"
He raised his hand to the sky,
and gravity itself bent to his will.
The villain was pulled violently toward him,
his body launched like a spear!
At that same moment,
Yubi waved his arms,
and a roar of furious winds exploded across the clearing—
as if a hundred blades tore through the very air.
They rushed at the villain with all the fury of nature unleashed.
The sound of the wind…
was a wail.
The villain's body seemed to rip apart,
his shadow splitting,
his silhouettes scattering like smoke.
Dabi didn't hesitate.
He leapt toward the flying body,
and drove his sword straight into the villain's gut.
The screech of metal echoed through the silence of the forest.
But—
The villain smiled.
He smiled.
Despite the blood,
the wind,
the blade lodged in his abdomen…
he reached out,
and grabbed Dabi's arm
with a hellish grip no human could possess.
Dabi screamed—
the pain surged through him like fire,
as if the villain's fingers were trying to crush bone.
But Dabi resisted.
He bit his lip until it bled,
and screamed—
not from pain,
but from sheer defiance:
"You won't take me!"
And indeed,
the villain couldn't break his arm.
But his face…
changed for a moment.
Disgust?
Surprise?
Caution?
Yubi, in a desperate move to end it,
leapt between them,
his sword slashing in a rapid storm of strikes—
each blow carrying wind strong enough to uproot a tree.
But… nothing worked.
Every strike passed through shadows,
or was deflected without the villain even moving.
The villain slowly turned toward him and said:
"Your attack is beautiful…
but you don't understand—
the wind cannot cut
what does not believe in existence."
Yubi, even knowing his attacks were useless, did not retreat.
He screamed, lunging one final time:
"I won't let you touch him again!"
But—
The villain slowly raised his hand,
as if time itself bowed to his will,
then lightly struck the air in front of him.
Silence.
A silent explosion—
invisible,
a formless wave surged from his palm,
and Yubi and Dabi were hurled away
as if thrown from the heart of a hurricane.
They hit the ground hard,
but they didn't pass out.
They were still conscious… still breathing… still in pain.
Dante had fallen to his knees.
Not from the blast,
but from the weight inside him.
The villain turned back to him,
his voice calm:
"This isn't just power. It's truth.
And you… are the key to all of it."
He raised his hand toward the sky.
A black vortex began to form—
a dark spot expanding,
slowly consuming the light around it.
Dante screamed at last:
"Stop!!!"
But it was too late.
The villain whispered two words:
"Let the banishment begin."
Then—
he released a black orb into the sky.
It swelled rapidly, pulsing like a monstrous heart.
And then—
it exploded.
A flash.
Then—emptiness.
Everything…
vanished.
Silence was the final sound.