The stairway wound upward like a spine of molten stone, vanishing into the dark above. Every step echoed too loud, the Tower's heartbeat now slower—waiting.
Dante walked ahead, Rebellion slung over his shoulder, his coat still smoldering at the edges. Elsa followed a few paces behind, her shotgun cradled loosely in her arms.
For once, there was no banter. Only the low hum of the Tower breathing around them.
Finally, Elsa broke the silence. "Why do you do it?"
Dante glanced back. "Do what?"
"Hunt demons," she said. "You don't strike me as the noble-crusader type."
He tilted his head, thinking. "I guess I wanted to be like my old man."
Her brows rose. "Your father?"
"Yeah. He was a demon hunter. A real legend, if you ask Matteo." He smirked faintly. "Figured I'd follow in his footsteps. Maybe keep people safe while I'm at it."
Elsa studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "That's it? You just woke up one day and decided to save the world?"
He shrugged. "Someone's gotta do it. Besides…"
His grin faded, replaced by something softer. "My mom used to tell me stories when I was a kid. About my father — said he fought to protect people from the monsters no one else could see. Guess I wanted to see if any of that was true."
Elsa studied him, her expression still unreadable. "So you became a demon hunter to follow a bedtime story?"
He smirked faintly. "Yeah. Pretty much."
The last words slipped out softer than he meant them to. Elsa caught it.
"So you hunt monsters to figure yourself out," she said quietly.
"Something like that." He grinned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Every time I take one down, I guess I'm hoping it'll make a little more sense."
Elsa looked away, her grip tightening on the shotgun. "You know… I never had that choice."
Dante frowned. "What do you mean?"
"My father made sure of it," she said. "While other girls were learning to dance or fall in love, I was learning how to shoot, how to survive. He said emotions made you weak."
Her voice hardened. "He turned me into a weapon long before the Bloodgem ever did."
Dante's grin faded. "That's rough."
She gave a humorless laugh. "You get used to it. You stop expecting anything else."
For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the low pulse of the Tower and the faint click of Dante's boots against the stone.
Finally, he said, "Maybe he was wrong."
Elsa glanced over. "About what?"
"About emotions making you weak." He looked ahead again, eyes following the climb. "Maybe they're what keep us from turning into the things we fight."
She said nothing, but the tightness in her jaw eased just a little.
After a moment, she asked, "And what about you, Dante? If you weren't hunting demons, what would you be doing?"
He chuckled. "Haven't thought that far ahead. Maybe open a bar. Call it something stupid."
Elsa arched a brow. "Like what?"
He grinned. "I dunno. Devil May Cry has a nice ring to it."
She almost smiled, but turned away before he could see it. "You're ridiculous."
"Yeah," he said softly. "But it's kept me alive this long."
The Tower pulsed once, a deep vibration underfoot that reminded them both where they were.
Elsa raised her shotgun again. "Come on. Before this place decides to test us again."
Dante nodded, falling into step beside her. "After you, partner."
She didn't correct him this time.
Both Dante and Elsa continued heading up the stairs until it ended abruptly in a massive iron door veined with molten light. It pulsed to the rhythm of the Tower's heartbeat — deep, heavy, and slow.
Dante stepped forward and pressed his hand against it. "You think it's gonna open if we knock?"
Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Or it's waiting for someone dumb enough to try."
"Good thing that's my specialty."
The instant his palm met the surface, the gate shuddered. Veins of fire spread from the point of contact, racing outward until the entire door glowed red-hot. Then, with a sound like a collapsing mountain, it tore open.
What waited beyond wasn't a room — it was a pit.
The air churned with heat and ash. Lava poured from the walls in slow, heavy streams, pooling around a black stone platform suspended over nothing. At its center lay a massive shape chained to the floor — breathing, growling, ancient.
Chains snapped.
The Behemoth rose.
Its hide was molten stone, muscle wrapped in magma. Each exhale sent waves of heat through the air, and when its eyes opened — twin suns glaring through smoke — the Tower itself seemed to recoil.
Dante tilted his head. "Damn… that's one massive dog."
Elsa's tone was flat. "Try not to piss it off, Dante."
The Behemoth roared. The sound ripped through the air like thunder.
Then it charged.
Dante met it head-on. Rebellion flared red as he swung, carving through its forearm. Molten blood sprayed across the floor. The creature bellowed, slamming its other fist down — the impact cracked the platform in half.
Dante rolled aside, came up firing both pistols into its chest. Each round hit like thunder, punching holes through molten armor, but the creature kept coming.
"Figures," he muttered, switching gears.
He holstered his pistols, hands igniting as Ifrit's gauntlets materialized around them. The flames coiled like living serpents up his arms.
"Alright, big guy," he said, grinning. "Let's turn up the heat."
He launched forward.
Ifrit roared with him — a blur of flame and motion. Each punch landed like a cannon, sending waves of molten rock flying. The Behemoth's armor cracked under the pressure, chunks of obsidian skin breaking away with every blow.
It swung wide. Dante ducked, countered with a blazing uppercut that sent fire tearing through its jaw.
Elsa fired from behind, her rocket striking its shoulder and staggering it again. "Keep him still!" she shouted.
"On it!"
Dante leapt high, twisting midair. Ifrit blazed white-hot as he brought both fists down in a fiery crash, slamming into the creature's spine. The shockwave cracked the platform clean through.
The Behemoth screamed — molten blood erupting from its back.
Dante backflipped away, landing beside Elsa.
"Tell me you've got something that explodes."
Elsa pulled a blessed charge from her belt, thumbed the fuse. "Always."
She tossed it high.
Dante kicked it midair, the blast engulfing the Behemoth in white fire. The explosion rocked the chamber, molten glass spraying in all directions.
When the smoke cleared, the creature still stood — barely. Its chest was split open, heart glowing like a dying star.
Dante exhaled through a grin. "Tough bastard."
He reached for Rebellion again, flame and steel merging as he slashed the creature's legs out from under it. The Behemoth fell to its knees, one arm clawing for balance.
Dante holstered the sword and drew his pistols, spinning them in a blur.
"Time to put you down."
The Behemoth reared back, lava gushing from its wounds. Its final roar echoed through the Tower.
Dante aimed both guns at its chest, the barrels glowing red-hot as hellfire built inside.
"Jackpot."
He fired.
Twin streams of crimson flame tore through the air, piercing straight through the Behemoth's heart. The explosion lit the entire chamber like a sunrise.
The monster froze — then shattered, its body disintegrating into ash that was devoured by the Tower's molten veins.
Silence.
Elsa lowered her shotgun, scanning the fading glow. "You done showing off?"
Dante holstered his pistols with a flourish. "Just making sure it sticks."
She glanced at him — weary but calm. "Let's move. That blast woke the Tower up again."
He looked toward the next door, molten light spilling from the cracks. "Good. I was starting to get bored."
They advanced together, the Tower's heartbeat quickening beneath their feet.