“Who are you?! An agent of the Black Angel?!” the man demanded answers, his voice carrying loudly through the church halls.
“Kat, get back!” Dante called out, struggling against the man’s sword with his pistol.
Kat quickly shuffled behind the marble statue on the pulpit, peaking around it to watch. The demon killer reached under his coat, drawing Ebony from its holster and pushing the barrel into the man’s chest. Three muffled shots exploded between the struggling men, followed by several shrill pings as brass shells bounced on the marble floor, swallowed by the mist. The man screamed out and immediately jumped back down the aisle. Dante kipped up to his feet and sent an icy stare at his assailant.
“Whoever you are, your trespass cannot be forgiven,” the man stated, three thin silver lines of smoke slithering from the bullet holes in the chest of his coat.
“I don’t want any trouble…” Dante muttered, trying to keep things as calm as they could be at the moment.
“I’ll not hear your falsities, demon! You’re not welcome here, and now you’ll leave – in pieces if need be!” the man responded, completely ignoring the gunshot wounds in his chest.
“Kat…you should probably bow out. Things are probably gonna get ugly,” Dante said.
“Uhm…right,” Kat nodded, stepping out from behind the statue.
The man took note of the hooded lady and glanced back at Dante. “I see…a demon and his witch harlot. You’ve come to the wrong plane!”
“Go Kat, now!” Dante called.
Dante’s footfalls echoed loudly through the hall as he rushed forward. He leapt into the air seconds later, mist from the floor trailing up behind him as he flipped. Dante set Ebony and Ivory’s sights on the man and peppered his position with a rainstorm of lead as he spiraled past overhead. The man held the broadside of his sword above him to catch many of the bullets, but others pelted him, tearing cleanly through his coat and embedding into soft flesh. Dante came down on the other side of the aisle, sliding back across the marble as his arms swept to his left from the momentum of his aerial spin.
Dante watched over the man’s shoulder as Kat quickly faded from sight, her form melting away to nothing.
“Dante!” Kat’s voice rang in his head.
“Are you out?” Dante asked, watching as the man turned to face him.
“Yes…are you okay?” Kat responded in kind.
“Yeah, I should be. You might wanna get away from here though; we didn’t exactly get a warm welcome. I’ll meet up with you later.”
“Okay, be careful Dante,” Kat’s voice trickled away from his ears as she swiftly left the church in the human realm.
“No problem,” he replied.
Dante holstered his pistols and held his hands out in plea to the man in front of him. “I think we got off on the wrong foot…I’m Dante. Who may I ask is trying to kill me?” Dante said.
“The name of your executioner is Daniel, Ophan of the First Sphere. Know this name demon, and tremble,” the man Daniel responded succinctly.
Dante held out his hands, wiggling his fingers with feigned fear. “Oooo~ Quite the spiel you got there, Daniel. Did you practice that in front of the mirror in your underwear?”
“Your jibes are lost on me, demon,” Daniel pointed his blade forward.
“Look, I’m not here to fight,” Dante explained.
“No scout wishes to engage their enemy,” Daniel spat.
“Alright…y’know what? You brought this on yourself.” Dante shrugged as Rebellion appeared in a cloud of light on his back. “I wasn’t looking for a dance, but if you insist…”
Dante reached back and pulled Rebellion out to his side. The blade quickly formed into a clawed chain, and Dante flung the weapon back. The claw clenched the leg of a pew, and Dante whipped his arm forward, sending the pew soaring down the aisle toward Daniel. Daniel swung his sword downward, cleaving the pew in two. Dante emerged from behind the wooden seat as it separated, his hand wound back over his shoulder, wrapped in flaming metal. Dante’s enkindled fist smashed into Daniel’s head, sending the angel straight into the floor. A shockwave blew the pews and mist around the fighters away, and Daniel’s body bounced off the cracked tiles. Dante followed up his downward smash with an uppercut wound up with his other hand, blasting Daniel up towards the ceiling.
Daniel spun about in the air as he flew upwards, pointing himself headfirst at the floor as he neared the church’s ceiling. An array of energy shined from behind the man’s head, and his ascent slowed enough for him to calmly set his feet on the surface above. A wave washed over the church, stretching across the ceiling and flooding down over the walls. Dante felt the wave press against him, and all the pews around him began to flutter up into the air. Dante stared straight up at the angel, Daniel, as he stared directly back from the ceiling. Daniel’s stare seemed sterner, like the intensity of the light behind his head allowed his gaze to pierce Dante’s mind.
“I see you are no ordinary demon. You are stronger than your ilk,” Daniel said, his voice almost booming in Dante’s ears.
Dante was suddenly awash with an overwhelming sensation. His mind was flooded with feelings of both awe and fear. A part of him was afraid of the light that Daniel bathed in, however not out of fear of harm, but the fear of guilt and inadequacy, as if he was unworthy to see such light.
What the hell is this? Dante thought.
It was extremely similar to the waves felt in Limbo from time to time; that push of an intense emotion that bore down on an individual, bending their thoughts. However, unlike Limbo, the sensation wasn’t intensifying Dante’s more negative feelings. It was still a subtle push of submission, but born out of a feeling of care, not power. Dante’s hand trembled, wanting to let go of his weapon as the fists reverted back to Rebellion. The wave was like a pressure on his shoulders, encouraging him to cow on bended knees.
Is this…Grace? Dante pondered, letting the feeling drown him. So that’s how they do it. This is what I’ve been missing…
“You do not coil from the Light? You are strong,” Daniel muttered, pulling his left hand back.
“You flatter me, Daniel,” Dante said, drawing Ivory in his left hand and sighting it on the angel above. “But don’t think I’ll stop punching you just because you compliment me on how good I am at punching you.”
Daniel remained unfazed by Dante’s taunts, and threw his hand forward toward the demon killer. A small burst of fire shot from Daniel’s bare hand, and a flaming ball of blue seared through the air down at Dante. Dante threw his arm up, Rebellion in his hand morphing into a blue chain that latched onto a pew floating overhead. Dante zoomed up onto the pew, avoiding the brimstone exploding where he stood before. Dante balanced on the pew as it fluttered around in the air, and he fired Ivory at Daniel, who once again blocked most of the gunfire with the broadside of his sword.
Daniel dropped from the ceiling, turning right-side up with his blade overhead, falling straight for Dante. Dante flipped backwards off his pew to evade Daniel’s attack, which sliced right through the wooden seat. Daniel dropped to the mist-covered floor, and Dante flew into the wall behind him, pressing his feet against the surface. Dante yelled out as he propelled himself forward, the force of his push cracking the wall under his feet. Dante flew towards Daniel with his blade thrust ahead, but as they’re distance closed, Daniel swiped his sword to the right, knocking Rebellion from Dante’s hands and throwing him to the side.
Dante flew past Daniel and hit the floor hard on his left shoulder, but quickly turned supine as he slid backwards, unleashing a torrent of bullets into Daniel’s back and side with Ivory. When Dante slid up against the wall behind him, he holstered Ivory and reached under his coat, pulling out Revenant, his short-barreled shotgun. Whips of energy flowed from Dante’s hands and into the shotgun’s frame as Daniel turned, dashing forward with his sword held back to thrust. Dante pressed Revenant’s barrel into the wall above his head, watching Daniel quickly close the distance between them.
Just before Daniel could stab him, Dante pulled the trigger and the power of the charged blast forced him away from the wall, sliding across the floor and between Daniel’s legs. Daniel pulled his blade from the floor, staring blankly at a small ball of energy embedded in the wall where Dante had fired his shotgun. The angel quickly jumped upwards ahead of a small explosion that erupted from the wall, and Dante sprang up from the floor, watching Daniel land softly on a floating pew.
“Impressive, demon; harnessing the weapons of Man and twisting them for your own designs. Your kind has made many strides while you shut the Earth away from us,” Daniel said, brushing some dust from his coat.
Dante scowled at the angel and reached out his hand for Rebellion, which flew from a distance directly into the nephilim’s hand.
“I’m tellin’ you Danny boy, you’ve got it all wrong,” Dante called up, resting his sword across his shoulder.
“You are a demon intruding on holy ground,” Daniel stated, his voice still echoing with awesome force.
This guy just won’t listen. I’m gonna have to show him firsthand that I’m not just some demon, Dante thought, beginning to search inward.
“If there is any mistake, it was in not taking great caution when engaging you, but such a folly is easily rectified.” Small orbs of fire appeared on either side of Daniel as he raised his left hand. The fires grew and embers fell as putti-like figures formed from the flames. Cherubim, the companions to any ophan, were child-like in appearance, flapping small, yet downy wings that sprouted from their backs to remain aloft at their ophan’s side. They carried a shining bronze hoplon on their chubby left arms, and lifted a golden crossbow with a string of fire in their right.
“Great…more trouble,” Dante muttered, placing his shotgun back under his coat.
I’ve gotta pull out something angelic. There has to be some Grace somewhere in me. Even if I had to fight some asshole angel, I don’t want this trip to Purgatory to end up a bust.
Dante continued to delve within, moving past the embers of a growing rage. It wouldn’t help him here, he had to push the anger aside, despite how foreign doing so felt. Buried underneath the ashes of the fury burned as the man-demon, was a small glimmer. It was faint, but still there and it left him with a familiar feeling. It was the same feeling Dante felt when transforming his trademark silver blade into angelic weapons. It was the source of his angelic side – his fledgling Grace. It truly had been there all along, buried under so much savagery, and there, the glimmer was accompanied by three voices, two familiar, one new.
“I am Saṃsāra, wield me and I shall tear thy enemies from the skies,” the new voice said, speaking from his heart.
The voice spoke to him, calling out to be held, like a wispy branch extending from the glimmer of Grace. Dante reached out for that wisp in the glimmer, and in one single heartbeat the sword he draped over his shoulder transformed. In his right hand, he held a silver sickle resting against his shoulder, a blue chain latched to the end of it dangling over his chest and wrapping back up to his neck. The chain crawled from Dante’s right shoulder, over his nape and coiling about his left arm. Dante gripped the chain tightly in his left hand, a weighted end of the links dangling below his closed fist.
“Tear my enemies from the skies, huh? Perfect!” Dante said, throwing his right hand back, releasing his grip on the sickle to extend the chain. “Heads up!”
Dante gripped the chain and swung his right arm forward, sending the sickled end up towards Daniel. As the sickle fell from overhead, Daniel turned to the side to avoid the attack. Daniel’s cherubim swayed and moved in unison with him, as if they were an extension of his own body. The blade of the sickle lopped off the edge of the pew Daniel stood perched on, and Dante pulled on the chain to bring the sickle back to his hand.
Daniel glanced down at Dante and shrugged slightly.
“Let’s…uh…pretend that didn’t happen,” Dante said, shortening the slack on the chain, and slowly spinning the sickled-end vertically at his side.
Daniel slowly raised his hand, pointing his fingers towards Dante. The cherubim at his sides chirped while flying forward in front of the man, crossing sides as they raised their crossbows. The flaming strings of their weapons snapped forward, propelling small spears of fire toward Dante. He swung the chain in front of him, spinning it with inhuman speed to create a veritable wall to catch the arrows. Dante reeled back his left hand as the spinning chain in his right knocked the arrows away, and then launched the weighted pommel forward toward one of the cherubim. The cherub raised its hoplon, but the immense force of the Saṃsāra’s weight smashed into the shield like a cannon ball, sending the putto flying into the church wall, where it exploded into white smoke.
Dante immediately pulled back on his left hand, reeling the weighted end toward him while he swiped his right hand forward from his side, sending the sickle end toward the remaining cherub. It too raised its shield to block the attack coming from the side, but the chain scraped along the face and edge of the hoplon. The chain bent around the cherub’s defenses, the sickle swinging in from behind to hook the cherub’s body. Dante wrapped his wrist around the chain and yanked back, pulling the cherub toward him in a spiral as the sickle sliced through its marble-like body. The cherub crumbled apart in a pitiful pop of fire, and its remains dissipated in smoke dispersed as Dante pulled the sickle back to his right hand.
That’s it, hold onto that feeling. Everything starts from that one glimmer.
“C’mon Danny boy!” Dante called, hopping forward, spinning sideways and extending the sickle-end of the Saṃsāra.
Daniel jumped back moments before the sickle flew down into the pew, tearing it into splinters as it cut through. Daniel and Dante landed on the mist-covered floor only a few yards from each other.
“Wuh-ooooooh, someone still has some tricks up his sleeeeeeeeve,” Dante taunted, the kusarigama in his hands changing back to the familiar Rebellion.
“A vast arsenal does not ensure victory,” Daniel stated, his voice still echoing, thanks to the power of the halo of light shining from behind his head. “And my cherubim are not of some finite supply.”
Daniel held his arms out wide, and a line of six small fires appeared on either side of him, extending from his shoulders. A cherub emerged from each fire, complete with crossbow and hoplon, floating in a formation that gave Daniel the semblance of wings. Dante’s eyes widened, counting the new arrivals.
“It takes two to tango, but now I think with all your back-up dancers, we could start a conga line.” Dante grinned, pulling Ivory from its holster.
Daniel swept his left hand forward, and then waved it up and down. The cherubim glided through the air, moving into synchronous formations around the devil hunter. Daniel rushed forward, and Dante raised Rebellion to block a slash. Sparks popped from where the blades met, and Dante pushed against Daniel, guiding him to one side, where a cherub floated into view. Dante unleashed a barrage of lead, forcing the cherub onto the defensive, blocking with its shield. Dante kicked Daniel aside and lunged at the cherub as it brought its shield down, taking Rebellion through its torso. Split in two, the cherub’s body exploded into white smoke.
Daniel came in from behind, and Dante raised Rebellion over the back of his shoulders to parry the angel’s attack. Another cherub slid in front of Dante, who holstered Ivory and pulled out his shotgun again, firing off a haphazard round while still struggling against Daniel’s strike. The cherub raised its hoplon, sending shot ricocheting off the bronzed metal. Dante then turned the shotgun back, crossing his arm over his body and pushing the barrel past his side. He pulled the trigger and blasted Daniel with a load of buckshot, pushing the angel away. Replacing the shotgun under his coat, Dante swung his sword overhead as it twisted into the crimson-bladed battleaxe, Arbiter, which he brought down on the cherub. The cherub put its shield between it and the axe’s blade, but the force of the blow sent the cherub into the marble floor, crushed under its own shield and the battleaxe as it unleashed a powerful shockwave at the point of contact. A blast of smoke blew out from under the dented hoplon beneath the Arbiter’s head.
Two more cherubim strafed around the devil killer in front of the legion of others waiting in the wings. They swooped in behind, and Dante turned, dragging his axe to the side as it the head disappeared and the shaft retracted, turning into angelic blue, three-pointed stars in each hand. Dante swung both hands forward, sending spinning blue discs towards the cherubim at the forefront. The discs split through the cherubim’s shields, tearing into their bodies like sawblades on pinewood.
Dante spun around, the shurikens in his hands reverting to the silver claymore. He deflected a flaming arrow and immediately brought his blade down through the attacking cherub. Daniel rushed in once again, and Dante raised his right foot, smashing into Daniel’s wrist and throwing the angel’s blade into the floor, under Dante’s sole. The devil killer twisted, throwing his left foot into Daniel’s face and knocking him away. Daniel stumbled back and another cherub moved forward.
These guys sure love their shields…
Dante grabbed the lip of the cherub’s shield and pulled it toward him, taking the cherub with it. Dante turned to his side, using the cherub’s back to block a buffet of arrows from another cherub’s crossbow. The cherub wailed in pain as it burst into smoke, leaving behind its shield in Dante’s hands when it evaporated.
Daniel slid in low, swinging his sword from the ground, but Dante deflected the attack with the cherub’s hoplon.
“Wait your turn, Danny boy!” Dante hollered, throwing the angel to the side. Daniel jumped back out of the fray as Dante flung the hoplon with all his might, the shield embedding itself in the floor as Daniel escaped.
Now that Dante was acutely aware of the Grace dwelling within, he could easily feel how deeply he could embrace his angelic side. Just as Dante held steadfastly to the man-demon’s power, he could do the same with whatever power his Grace could bestow. Despite being surrounded on all sides and attacked relentlessly, Dante kept his cool, focusing on the Grace, instead of frustration and the seething anger that usually built up when he sliced into demons. That glimmer of Grace was his salvation, and cutting down the cherubim was filling Dante with a power that felt all too familiar – it was the magic that fueled his Devil Trigger, and it made Dante wonder, if maybe it could fuel something else, something more graceful.
Dante grabbed Ivory from its holster and began pelting another cherub with lead. The cherub hid behind its shield and Dante flung his hand up, Rebellion morphing into the clawed chain and latching onto the leg of a pew floating above. The devil hunter yanked down on the magical chain, bringing the pew plunging onto the cherub from overhead. The pew shattered as it smashed into the misty floor, the smoke of a dead cherub seeping from between the splinters. Dante quickly replaced Ivory and spun the chain in his hand as it extended over his body and grew its sickle and weighted ends.
Dante spun on his heel, swinging the Saṃsāra’s weighted end around. Predictably, a cherub brought up its hoplon, and the weighted end stripped the shield from its arm. Dante continued to spin, the sickled end of the weapon in his right hand flying through the cherub’s body and hewing the putti’s head from its shoulders. Dante wrapped the chain around his wrist multiple times as the sickle end continued to the side. He hurled the sickle end directly behind him, however, as Daniel again rushed into the fray, bringing his gleaming blade down from over his shoulder. The length of the chain in Dante’s left hand retracted as the sickle extended far off into the distance, bringing the weighted end directly into his gloved palm. Daniel’s blade resounded loudly as it met with the weighted end of the Saṃsāra in Dante’s left hand.
The remaining cherubim surrounded Dante, extending in unison from Daniel’s flanks like closing wings. Dante pushed back against Daniel’s blade, but only long enough to reach within and draw a weapon most familiar to him. The chain of the Saṃsāra became rigid, quickly forming into a long, bluish shaft. The sickle end shortened back into Dante’s right hand, with the blade itself growing larger. In the blink of an eye, Dante reached for his Grace and formed the scythe Osiris, holding the weapon in two steady hands, with Daniel’s blade pressing against the pommel at the bottom of the snaith.
Dante grinned and pushed the scythe’s pommel forward with his right hand, the shaft quickly sliding over Dante’s left palm like a pool cue thrust with inhuman force. Daniel was shoved back, rapidly sliding on his soles across the mist-covered floor.
“That weapon…” Daniel muttered, watching as Dante spun his scythe about in his hands.
The cherubim surrounding Dante wailed, setting their crossbows on the devil hunter. Dante brought down his scythe, cleaving a cherub in two from shoulder to hip. He ducked under a flaming arrow that shot in from the left. Coiling his legs and then springing up, rising into the air, Dante spun around with his scythe stretched outward, catching three of the cherubim in a rising twister of carnage, his spinning feet trailed by a spiral of mist pulled up from the blanket over the floor.
Daniel moved in right underneath Dante, flanked on either side by the remaining two cherubim. The angel pulled back his free left hand as a ball of fire and brimstone grew between his fingertips, and he glanced up at Dante in unison with the cherubim, who pointed their crossbows skyward. Dante weaved through a barrage of flaming arrows as he began to drop from the air, holding his scythe back at the ready. Daniel flung his scorching hand forward, loosing a cerulean fireball towards the descending Dante, who cut through the fire easily with a flipping slice.
Daniel raised his sword, holding the broadside of the blade up, bracing the tip of his weapon with his palm. Dante landed with his feet set firmly along the angel’s blade, and then swiftly took to the air again, landing on a pew floating overhead. The cherubim fired their flaming arrows, but Dante leaned back, tilting the pew to block the shots, leaving the arrows planted in the pew’s underside. Daniel swung his sword to his side, holding his left hand up. The cherubim lowered their crossbows and quietly slid backward, moving themselves behind Daniel’s shoulders.
Dante looked down, holding the scythe beside him, resting the pommel in next to his foot. He took the moment to draw a large breath and calm himself; despite embracing the fledgling Grace within, Dante was still all to used to letting his anger swell up as he fought. However, he pushed away the pit of fire smoldering within.
Daniel pointed his sword towards Dante. “Where did you acquire that scythe?” he asked, his voice still echoing loudly.
“This?” Dante glanced at the scythe, tapping the bottom on the pew. “Hand-me-down, been in the family for years,” Dante replied, scowling.
Daniel’s eyes widened slowly, but he attempted to draw attention elsewhere, stroking his goateed chin. Osiris reverted back to the Rebellion, balancing on its pointed tip as Dante held the hilt.
“I see now…you are not an agent of the Black Angel…you are the Scion of Eva,” Daniel muttered, his gaze trailing from the devil hunter.
“You knew my mother?” Dante inquired lowly.
“We all knew her, until Father disowned her,” Daniel gritted his teeth in anger. “I knew her well…”
Dante’s head cocked slowly, watching the light behind Daniel’s head dim slightly.
“Great! So does that mean we can be friends?” Dante asked, setting Rebellion on his back, sounding more chipper than his serious tone from a moment before.
“Friends? You are an abomination,” Daniel stated clearly, his halo brightening with the fervor in his voice.
“Hey whoa, I have feelings y’know,” Dante said.
“Wretched Nephilim – conjugation of those with the Light, and those that forsook it!” Daniel reeled his hand back and quickly unleashed a fireball up towards the devil hunter.
Dante coiled his legs and kicked off the pew, flipping backwards and sending the pew towards Daniel, intercepting the fireball. Dante landed on the floor followed by the scorched tinder that remained of the church seat. Dante rose up, popping the collar of his coat back onto his shoulder.
“So…we’re not gonna be BFFs, are we…?” Dante asked, his shoulders sinking.
“You possess the Light, yet you are unworthy of it,” Daniel declared. “It is my duty as a servant of the Lord to strike you down.”
“Guess not…” Dante scowled.
Daniel slid forward with his sword held low, trailed on either side by the cherubim releasing flurries of burning arrows. Dante drew Ebony and Ivory from their holsters, unleashing a torrent of bullets to perforate the cherubim. Bullets and arrows filled the distance between Dante and Daniel, and Dante stood his ground to destroy the last putto, but not before taking arrows to his left shoulder and just below the right rib. Dante cursed aloud, the pain shoving aside the Grace in his mind as an unfettered heat shot through his body.
Daniel closed in, and Dante crossed his pistols in front of him to catch the angel’s blade as they flew back into a wall. Dante struggled, gritting his teeth as he pushed against Daniel. He could feel the wall at his back giving way, cracks scarring the plaster. Dante could feel the push on his emotions again, only much stronger than before. This close to Daniel, his halo radiated an intense blast of the same sensations of unworthiness. Instinctively, Dante pushed back, his veins running black with Malice. His eyes slowly began to smolder a dull red.
“Stop this Daniel…I don’t…wanna fight you,” Dante growled.
“No, you do not want to die. You know the fate which awaits you,” Daniel sneered, pressing more force to his blade.
The man-demon’s toothy grin flashed in Dante’s mind, and he quietly protested its appearance. The man-demon begged to come out and play. Dante could feel thin tendrils of ichorous Malice creeping up the back of his neck, curling around his ears and collar. A wave of crimson flowed over his black coat, and he felt his fingertips form into sharp points before dulling back into flesh again.
No, not this time! Dante told himself. The man-demon cocked its head. It didn’t understand; it wanted to slake its bloodlust, it had the perfect prey, but Dante refused to pull the trigger. The man-demon reached out its hand, and Dante unconsciously reached for it.
“NNNNYYYYOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRHHH!” Dante howled; gray smoke billowing from his nose and mouth.
Tendrils of Malice continued to crawl over his body, wrapping about the arrows embedded in Dante’s flesh, pulling them from the wounds and snapping the shafts in two. The agony was unbearable, and struggling against the only thing Dante knew left him weaker. Dante’s hands closed tightly from the pain, inadvertently pulling the triggers of his pistols, the crescendo drowning out his wailing. The man-demon cackled as Dante’s hand reached ever closer. A pulse of Malice burst from Dante’s chest, and all of the pews floating in the air around the church slammed into the floor.
“Wretched abomination!” Daniel screamed, his halo dimming for a brief moment against the wave of Malice.
No! No no no no! Dante clenched his jaw and forcefully exhaled, suffocating smoke shooting from his nose. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep and incredibly labored breath. He pushed the man-demon’s hand aside, the monstrosity’s figure slowly dissipating as rays of calm blue light pierced through the fragments. Dante reached out for the glimmer of light. His muscles suddenly relaxed, and pale mist blew from his mouth as he let out a relieved sigh.
The wall around Dante exploded. Destruction spread out from his shoulders and stretched over the wall like wings, throwing plaster, tile, and dust out onto the floor. Daniel jumped back, out of the cloud of debris.
“Is there no ends to your trickeries!? Nephilim scum, accept your fate!” Daniel called.
As the dust settled, Dante pushed himself from the mangled wall. A pale blue aura lapped at Dante’s shoulders, the hood and tail of his coat fluttering up in an unseen wind, while mist wafted from underneath the black leather that took on an indigo sheen. Dante holstered his pistols and set determined eyes on the angel ahead of him.
“You call me nephilim scum…but you don’t know a damn thing about me,” Dante said, pointed towards the angel.