The Tower of Limbo – Apex
The climb ended in silence.
The stairwell split open into a cathedral of bone and fire. The ceiling stretched into a crimson storm that churned like a bleeding wound in the sky. Lightning flashed green through the clouds, illuminating a vast altar of black stone carved with writhing runes.
Cultists surrounded it — dozens of them, faces hidden behind cracked bone masks, chanting in a rhythm that made the Tower itself tremble. Their voices crawled along the walls like insects, feeding the shard of steel suspended above the altar: the broken fragment of Force Edge, pulsing in time with the Tower's heartbeat.
Dante slowed, Rebellion humming faintly on his back. The air here was heavier — electric, ancient, alive.
"Guess we found the VIP section," he muttered.
Elsa didn't reply. Her eyes locked on the figure before the altar — tall, regal, and wrong.
Ulysses Bloodstone.
Half of him still wore a human face; the rest shimmered with the crimson glow of the Bloodgem fused into his chest. Veins of living crystal pulsed beneath his skin.
Chains of blood stretched from the altar to the air above, holding Father Matteo aloft. His robes were torn, his rosary flickering weakly against the corruption spreading through the stone.
"Matteo!" Elsa's voice cracked.
The chanting stopped.
Ulysses turned, his smile a wound. "My daughter. You came after all."
Dante stepped forward, drawing Rebellion. "Nice family reunion. Little late for dinner, though."
Ulysses ignored him. "You shouldn't have come here, Elsa. You never understood what I was building."
"You're not building anything," she said. "You're destroying everything you ever touched."
He laughed softly. "Destruction is the mother of creation. The Bloodgem isn't a curse — it's transcendence. Mephisto showed me what lies beyond the limits of man."
He raised his hand. The shard of Sparda's sword lifted, bleeding light into the storm.
Elsa's eyes widened. "You're opening a gate."
"I'm forging a bridge," Ulysses said. "Between Hell… and what's left of man's soul."
Matteo strained against his chains. "You think you can control him? You'll only feed him!"
"Control?" Ulysses smiled. "No. I'm becoming him."
Dante tilted his head. "Yeah, you definitely skipped leg day for that look."
The veins across Ulysses's body flared white-hot. "Then witness evolution."
He opened his arms.
Blood erupted upward, coiling around him. The cultists screamed as their bodies disintegrated into ash, drawn into the maelstrom. The Bloodgem blazed like a sun, burning the human from his flesh.
He didn't resist — he welcomed it.
"At last," he murmured. "Flesh, faith, and flame — one powerful and eternal body."
His veins hardened into molten channels of crystal; armor fused to bone. The shard of Sparda's sword embedded itself into the haft of a massive halberd that materialized in his hand.
When the light faded, Ulysses Bloodstone was gone.
In his place stood a Death Knight, born of blood and rebellion — the first of Mephisto's new order.
He lifted the halberd; the floor cracked beneath its weight. The Bloodgem blazed through his chestplate like a furnace.
"Behold," he said, voice now layered with Mephisto's whisper. "The sins of fathers, reborn in their children."
Elsa steadied her shotgun. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Perfection," he answered. "You could have shared it. Instead, you chose mortality."
"Mortality's not the curse," she said coldly. "You are."
Dante stepped forward, Rebellion flaring red. "You want to be a god? Let's see if gods bleed."
The halberd came down.
Stone shattered. Fire surged.
Dante blocked, sparks showering around them. Ulysses pressed forward, each strike heavier than the last. Elsa fired from cover, her rockets cracking against his armor, but the Bloodgem drank the explosions like water.
Chains of blood erupted from the floor, lashing around Elsa's arms and dragging her toward the altar. She cut herself free, but Ulysses caught her with a backhand, hurling her into a pillar.
"Elsa!"
Matteo's voice cut through the roar. "Dante — the gem feeds on sin! Don't fight him with hate — you'll make him stronger!"
Ulysses turned, his laughter metallic. "Still preaching, old friend?"
He raised his halberd, pointing it at Dante. "You think this boy can stop me? He doesn't even know what he is."
Dante's jaw tightened. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Ulysses smiled. "Hell, indeed. Tell me, boy… did you ever wonder why that sword hums in your hands? Why it answers only to you?"
The Bloodgem pulsed brighter, the light searing through the air. "You carry the blood of Sparda — the demon who betrayed his kind and sealed Hell away from Earth."
Dante froze. The words hit harder than any blade could. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Ulysses stepped closer, the ground cracking beneath his feet. "Your father was a devil who turned against his own kind. You're his spawn — half man, half monster. You've been living in denial, pretending to be human."
"Shut up." Dante's voice shook.
"Go on," Ulysses pressed, smiling. "Tell yourself you're different. But deep down, you feel it, don't you? That hunger when you fight. The thrill when you kill. That isn't justice, boy — that's your nature."
"SHUT UP!"
Dante lunged forward, fury exploding out of him. Rebellion flared like wildfire, every strike shaking the Tower. Ulysses met each blow with laughter, his halberd singing through the air, the Bloodgem drinking in every burst of rage.
Matteo's voice cut through the chaos. "Dante, stop! He's feeding on your anger!"
"Stay out of this!" Dante shouted, his eyes blazing.
Ulysses deflected a blow and struck back, sparks spraying like blood. "Yes… that's it! Show me the devil!"
Matteo ran forward, desperation in his voice. "Dante — listen to me! You're more than that! Don't let hate define you!"
Ulysses hurled a spear of crimson energy. It pierced Matteo's chest. The priest gasped but didn't scream. His rosary pulsed faintly, sensing his impending death.
Dante's world froze. "Matteo!"
The old priest looked down at the wound, then up at Dante — his eyes steady, his voice calm. "Dante… listen."
The Bloodgem's glow flickered, as if even Hell paused to hear him.
"Your father wasn't great because he was a demon," Matteo said, his voice trembling. "And he wasn't great because he lived among humans."
He drew a shuddering breath, his hand clutching the rosary tighter. "He was great because he accepted both. That's the strength of Sparda — and it's in you too."
Dante's breath caught.
"Don't run from either side of yourself," Matteo said, the words soft but unshakable. "Devil and man, blood and heart… together, they'll make you stronger than either alone."
Light bloomed from his rosary, spilling across the altar like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
"Live, Dante," he whispered. "And make that strength mean something."
The light consumed him — not in fire, but in peace. The chains binding him shattered, and holy radiance tore through the crimson haze.
Ulysses staggered, shielding his face as cracks split across his armor.
When the light faded, Matteo was gone. Only his rosary remained, swaying gently from a splinter of the altar, glowing faintly gold against the dark.
Elsa fell to her knees, shock carved across her face.
Dante stood in silence for a long moment, staring at the space where Matteo had been. The echo of his words lingered like a heartbeat inside his chest.
"You killed him," Dante said, his voice low and shaking.
Ulysses straightened, molten light bleeding from his armor. "He chose his fate. I merely gave him purpose."
Something snapped.
Dante charged, Rebellion igniting in a blaze of red flame. Sparks exploded as their weapons clashed again and again, the floor breaking apart beneath their feet.
Ulysses blocked, laughing between strikes. "Yes… that's it! Let the anger out!"
"Shut up!" Dante roared, forcing him back.
The Bloodgem pulsed brighter, syncing with Dante's heartbeat, absorbing his fury with every swing. Elsa shouted something from across the chamber, but he couldn't hear her anymore.
It was just him — and the fire.
Ulysses caught his blade mid-swing. The steel hissed against his armored hand. "You never learned control."
Then, in one smooth motion, he twisted the sword free and drove it forward.
SHHK.
Rebellion pierced Dante's chest.
He froze, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. The tip of the blade glowed as it tore through his back, blood dripping down the hilt.
"Your father closed the gates of Hell," Ulysses said, voice like steel. "Shame his son couldn't keep them shut."
The sound tore through the Tower — steel grinding against bone, a wet gasp breaking the silence. Dante's eyes widened, blood spilling down his coat as the blade pulsed red, feeding on the mix of rage and grief burning inside him.
Ulysses leaned close, whispering, "That's it… let the fire wake. Let your blood remember what it is."
The Tower roared to life. Crimson light surged from the walls, pulsing in time with Dante's faltering heartbeat.
He twisted the weapon slowly, savoring the sound of Dante's breath breaking. "His legacy ends with you."
Then he released the hilt and stepped back.
Rebellion stayed buried in Dante's chest.
Dante staggered, blood splattering across the glowing floor. His knees buckled, the world spinning red and white.
Elsa screamed, sprinting toward him. "DANTE!"
He tried to speak — to move — but the words wouldn't come. The Tower's light dimmed around him, fading into a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
The Bloodgem pulsed once more, bright enough to drown out the stars.
And then…
Everything went dark.