The chamber opened like a mouth to an abyss.
Asari's hand tightened on his glaive, the sigil from the silver ring now glowing faintly on his wrist. Aicha gripped her chair tightly, her eyes scanning the dark hallway ahead of them. The air had shifted. The oppressive atmosphere from the watcher chamber had given way to something far more dangerous.
A deep voice, raspy and ancient, echoed through the corridor.
"You have passed, but this land is not kind to those who conquer trials."
The floor beneath them rumbled as the walls began to pulse, flickering with dark energy. Shadows crawled along the floor like snakes, and strange, echoing footsteps rang in the distance.
"I am Nox. The First."
Asari stepped forward, the sigil on his wrist glowing brighter. Aicha's gaze met his—her eyes full of worry, but also trust. She knew him. She had seen his strength, his resolve.
A booming laugh shattered the stillness.
"You are not yet ready to face me," Nox's voice rasped.
Suddenly, figures appeared from the shadows. These weren't mere echoes. They were real. Tall, cloaked in robes that absorbed the light around them, their faces hidden beneath skull-shaped hoods. Their weapons—blades forged from void essence—pulsed with dark energy.
Aicha gasped. "Who are they?"
"Their souls were consumed by darkness long ago," Asari muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Wraiths of the First Trial."
Without warning, the first wraith lunged forward, its sword slicing through the air with unnatural speed. Asari reacted instantly, spinning his glaive in a graceful arc, deflecting the blade with a swift clang. The wraith hissed in frustration, but Asari's gaze was unwavering.
He took a step back, his body centered. "Devil Cry: Step 1."
His glaive shimmered with dark energy, an ethereal aura surrounding it. In that instant, the first wraith's blade seemed to slow, its movements heavy and sluggish. Asari struck, his glaive slashing through the wraith's robes, tearing through the fabric of the world itself. The wraith staggered, its body dissipating into smoke.
But Asari wasn't finished. The hunger still gnawed at him—the Stone whispered, urging him forward.
"Devil Cry: Step 2."
He launched forward with a burst of speed, his glaive slicing through the air in a deadly series of strikes. Each swing of the weapon cut through the shadowy wraiths, the dark energy from the glaive crackling as it collided with their ethereal forms. But the wraiths weren't easily defeated. They phased in and out, their attacks coming faster and more relentlessly.
The wraiths surrounded him, their swords flashing like lightning, their strikes so fast Asari could barely keep up.
But his focus never wavered.
"Devil Cry: Step 3."
His body blurred as he moved with unearthly speed. The glaive danced through the air, each strike leaving a trail of black fire in its wake. The wraiths were disoriented, their forms dissolving in the wake of his devastating attacks. Each movement was a culmination of power—the strength of the Stone, his training, and the raw fury of his soul.
The wraiths fell one by one, their bodies turning to dust as Asari continued his relentless assault. The final wraith attempted to strike, but it was too late. Asari's glaive struck through its chest, cutting through the very fabric of its existence.
The room fell silent.
Asari stood at the center, panting, his chest heaving with the weight of the battle. The wraiths were no more, their dark essence scattered to the winds.
But Nox's voice echoed again, dark and foreboding.
"You have slain my minions. But you have only awakened a greater darkness."
The walls around them began to crack, and the ground rumbled as if the world itself were trembling. The shadows deepened, and from them, a massive figure emerged.
Nox, the First, stood before them, his form towering above. He was clad in dark, tattered robes, his face hidden beneath a mask of shadows. His eyes glowed with an unnatural crimson light, and his voice resonated through the chamber like thunder.
"You think you can defeat me, boy?"
Asari's eyes narrowed, and his grip tightened around his glaive. Aicha's fingers trembled on the armrest of her chair. She knew what was coming. Asari was ready. But this battle… this battle would be different.
"I'm not here to defeat you," Asari muttered, his voice a low growl. "I'm here to burn everything you represent to the ground."
Nox's eyes flashed, and the ground beneath them cracked open. Shadowy tendrils shot from the cracks, lashing toward Asari and Aicha. But Asari was faster.
With a cry, he leapt into the air, his glaive glowing with dark energy.
"Devil Cry: Chapter 1."
The blade cut through the air like a storm, slashing through the tendrils with brutal precision. The world around him distorted, the shadows retreating in fear of his power. His every movement was sharp, controlled—each step drawing him closer to the heart of Nox's dark domain.
"You may be the First," Asari said, his voice cold as ice. "But I will make you the last."
Nox's mask twisted into an eerie smile. "We shall see, boy."
And with that, the battle began.