Limbo – Days Later
Time had no meaning here.
The sun never rose. The moon never set.
Only fire, always fire — painting the sky in endless shades of red.
Illyana sat alone in a cage of black iron, her small hands chained, the ground beneath her feet burning like dying coals.
She'd lost her voice from screaming days ago.
Now she just stared at the horizon, silent, empty.
Around her, the demon forges hissed with molten rivers.
Chains clattered in the distance, and the faint sound of laughter — cruel, echoing, endless — filled the air.
Belasco watched her from his throne, half-shrouded in shadow.
He rested his chin on one clawed hand, studying her the way a sculptor studies stone.
"So much potential," he mused softly. "If only she would stop crying."
He stood, descending the steps with deliberate calm.
The ground shivered under each footstep.
Illyana flinched when he stopped in front of the cage.
He crouched, golden eyes glinting through the bars.
"You could be beautiful, you know," he said. "A weapon shaped from sorrow and flame."
Her lip trembled, but she met his gaze anyway. "You'll never make me one of you."
Belasco's smile sharpened.
"You're already half there, little one. Every tear, every scream — every moment you wish for power — brings you closer to me."
He reached between the bars, one claw gently lifting her chin.
"All it takes is a word, Illyana. Say it, and Limbo will make you strong enough to never feel pain again."
She slapped his hand away. "I don't want your power."
Belasco chuckled, turning away.
"You will."
He snapped his fingers, and the cage blazed briefly with crimson light before he vanished into the fire.
Silence followed.
Hours passed — or days. She didn't know anymore.
Her tears had dried long ago, replaced by a hollow ache.
The only thing that reminded her she was still human was the faint, warm weight of the crescent pendant under her rags.
That night — if it could be called night — it began to glow.
A soft light, pale and gentle, spilled across the cage.
Illyana's eyes widened, her breath catching.
The fire around her dimmed, shrinking away from the glow.
And in front of her, within the silver light, a figure began to take form.
Long white hair. Kind eyes. A face she remembered from a life that felt like a dream.
"E… Eva?"
The ghostly woman smiled, her voice a soft whisper, like wind through church bells.
"Shh… it's all right, child."
Illyana crawled closer, shaking. "You're real?"
"Not quite," Eva said, kneeling before her. "Only what's left of me. A memory bound to this pendant."
Her hand — transparent and shimmering — reached through the bars, touching Illyana's cheek.
"You've been so brave."
The warmth in her voice cracked something inside the girl.
Illyana broke down, sobbing quietly. "He wants to turn me into a monster."
Eva's expression softened.
"He will try. But he cannot change what is already light."
The pendant's glow brightened, filling the cage. The heat faded; the chains grew cool.
"There is power in you, Illyana," Eva continued. "The power to create, not destroy. To walk between light and shadow without losing yourself."
Illyana sniffled. "I don't know how."
Eva smiled gently.
"Then I'll teach you."
The air shimmered again. The cage faded away, replaced by a wide plain of silver light — Limbo itself bending to Eva's will.
She stood beside Illyana, conjuring a sword of pure radiance in her hand.
"This is your light, Illyana. Feel it. Shape it. Let it answer you."
The sword dissolved into motes of energy, gathering around Illyana's hands.
They burned, but not painfully — a warmth like the forge her father used to tend.
"Do not fight the darkness," Eva whispered. "Understand it. And when it strikes, you meet it with purpose."
Illyana exhaled, focusing, and for the first time, a blade formed in her grasp — imperfect, flickering, but real.
Eva smiled.
"Good. Again."
They practiced in silence. Again and again, until Illyana could lift her arm without trembling.
Until the light felt like hers.
Limbo – Years Later
Time in Limbo moved differently.
Days bled into weeks, weeks into years, and years into something else entirely.
Illyana stopped counting long ago.
She grew in silence beneath the twin gazes of her captor and her ghostly mentor — one teaching her pain, the other teaching her purpose.
Under Belasco, she learned how to endure.
Under Eva, she learned how to fight.
The scars on her arms were carved from dark magic, each one a lesson in suffering.
Belasco would smile as he twisted her will, whispering spells that reeked of fire and blood.
"You cannot conquer Limbo, child. You can only become it."
He forced her to summon flames, to shape shadows, to draw upon the corruption that filled the air.
At first, she refused. Then, slowly, she learned to endure it — to channel darkness without losing herself.
When he left, the air grew colder, softer.
That was when Eva would appear — her light seeping through the cracks of the cage like dawn through fog.
"You survived again," Eva would whisper, kneeling beside her. "That's enough for now."
Illyana would close her eyes, resting her head against the ghost's hand that wasn't really there.
Sometimes, she pretended it was her mother.
Then Eva would raise her hand, summoning threads of silver light.
"Now, again. Form it. Breathe with it."
The two would stand on a shifting plain of light, training in silence.
Every strike Illyana made left trails of radiance across the void. Every failure left her trembling, but Eva never once raised her voice.
"The darkness will always tempt you," Eva said once. "But light doesn't win by crushing shadow — it shines in spite of it."
Years passed like that.
Each lesson carved her deeper — Belasco's torture hardening her body, Eva's guidance strengthening her spirit.
Between them, she became something else entirely.
Neither angel nor demon.
Just Illyana Rasputina.
Limbo – The Breaking
The sky cracked one day.
Literally.
A sound like shattering glass echoed across the horizon, and the fire above dimmed to black.
Even the demons stopped laughing.
Illyana felt it in her chest — a pulse of energy that wasn't from Limbo. It came from somewhere far away… familiar.
Eva appeared in an instant, her ghostly form flickering like a candle in a storm.
"It's happening," she whispered. "The walls of Sparda… they're breaking."
Illyana looked up, heart racing. "What does that mean?"
Eva smiled sadly. Her light flickered weaker with each passing second.
"It means Hell is stirring again. And the world you left behind will soon face what's been sleeping beneath it."
She reached out, her fading hand hovering over Illyana's shoulder.
"My time is nearly gone, child. The pendant's power can't sustain me much longer."
Illyana shook her head, voice cracking. "Don't go. I still need you."
Eva smiled faintly. "You never needed me. You only needed to remember who you are."
The cracks above widened. Lightning of red and blue tore through the clouds.
The air itself screamed.
Eva looked one last time at the girl she'd raised among monsters.
"Illyana Rasputina… my last wish is this. Find my son. Find Dante. And mend the wounds in the wall before both worlds fall."
Illyana's throat tightened. "How will I find him?"
"You already know his light."
The ghost's form began to dissolve, scattering into silver motes that drifted upward, merging with the cracks in the sky.
"Goodbye, my dear. Remember — light doesn't fade. It waits."
And then she was gone.
The world fell silent.
Only the echo of her words remained, carved into Illyana's heart like a vow.
Illyana clenched her fists, her aura flaring — light and darkness intertwining.
A blade of pure silver fire erupted from her hand.
"I'll find him," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I swear it."
Above her, the skies of Limbo cracked wider, revealing a glimpse of the world beyond — a flicker of blue, like the reflection of a familiar man's eyes.