The battlefield no longer reacted as a physical space, but as a collapsing organism, where each new manifestation of power not only destroyed what existed, but rewrote the rules that still tried to sustain some logic in that place. The heat emanating from Agares was not merely intense, it was absolute, filling every space, every crack, every particle of air with a thermal pressure that transformed even perception into something distorted, unstable, almost liquid, while the very ground seemed to struggle not to simply dissolve beneath her feet.

She remained motionless for a moment.

Observing Dante.

Feeling.

Not just his presence, but everything he had become in that short space of time, that absurd progression, that constant evolution that defied any predictable limit. Her eyes burned, not just with power, but with something deeper, more ancient… something that hadn't awakened in a long time.

"It's been… two thousand years…" her voice was lower now, almost contemplative, but still laden with an overwhelming weight, as if each word carried memories too dense to be ignored, "…two thousand years since the last time I felt this."

The heat around her intensified.

Suddenly.

As if her emotion had taken shape.

"Rage." She finished, finally, her eyes narrowing as her gaze fixed even more on Dante, as if she were seeing beyond the surface, beyond the fight, beyond that moment.

A memory flashed by.

Quickly.

But intensely.

"The last time…" she continued, raising her spear slightly, Belial vibrating in her hand as if responding directly to her state, "…it was against you."

Her eyes shifted slightly to the side.

For a single second.

Sephirothy.

"When you were still worthy of being called a rival."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Loaded.

And then Dante… laughed.

Not loudly.

Not excessively.

But enough.

"Two thousand years holding a grudge?" he said, tilting his neck slightly as his muscles adjusted again, his regeneration now fully stabilized, his aura pulsing with an even more absurd intensity than before. "That's kind of pathetic, don't you think?"

He took a step forward.

Unconcerned.

Provocative.

"And you really think that—"

He didn't finish.

He didn't have time.

Belial was already inside him.

There was no warning.

There was no perceptible movement.

It just… happened.

The spear pierced his torso with absolute precision, emerging from his back in a clean, direct instant, without enough resistance to even slow the blow. The impact was so swift that even the air seemed to lag behind, as if the world had been overtaken by it.

And then—

The fire came.

Not like an ordinary flame.

But like something ravenous.

Violent.

Primordial.

Dante's body was immediately engulfed in an absurd combustion, the flames spreading from the point of impact like an internal explosion, consuming flesh, energy, regeneration… all at once, as if denying the very existence of that which they tried to destroy.

The sound that escaped him wasn't a complete scream.

It was cut off.

Swallowed by the heat.

Agares didn't move the spear immediately.

She kept him there.

Impaled.

Burning.

Her eyes fixed on him, unhurried, unhesitating, as if this were only… the beginning.

"You talk too much." She murmured, tilting her head slightly as she watched the fire consume every part of him.

And then she drew her spear.

Dante's body was thrown back, still ablaze, rolling across the ground as the fire continued to devour him relentlessly, his attempts at regeneration constantly thwarted before they could even be completed.

Agares did not advance.

Not yet.

She simply… began to speak.

"I was born this way." Her voice echoed across the field, not as a speech, but as an inevitable truth being revealed. "From the very first moment… the fire responded to me."

The sky reacted.

The flames of Ifrit above rippled.

"It wasn't learning." She continued, her eyes now slowly rising to the incandescent sky, where the colossal entity watched, silent, present. "It wasn't conquest."

Her body began to release more energy.

More heat.

More pressure.

"It was… affinity."

The ground beneath her began to give way.

Not break.

But melt.

"My flames… consumed everything." Her voice lost any trace of gentleness, becoming denser, heavier, as if each word carried an existential weight. "Including… myself."

Her fingers tightened slightly on Belial.

"I had to seal myself." She said, finally, turning her gaze forward. "Again… and again… and again."

A brief pause.

The fire around her intensified even more.

"To avoid… a catastrophe."

The silence didn't last.

Because the sky answered.

She raised her gaze again, staring directly at Ifrit.

"Even him…" she said, pointing the spear slightly upwards.

The colossal entity reacted. Not with attack.

But with… restraint.

Respect.

"Fear my flames."

The statement fell like an absolute weight on everyone there.

"That's why he accepted." She continued, a slight smile appearing on her lips, not of joy, but of cold understanding. "To be my familiar."

Her gaze returned to Dante.

Who was already beginning to rise again.

Even burning.

Even being consumed.

Still… rising.

"Because…" she took a step forward.

And the world trembled.

"…it's better to be my ally."

Another step.

The heat intensified.

"…than my enemy."

And then—

It came.

Not as an attack.

But as an event.

Waves of fire began to surge around her, not from a single source, but from multiple sources, manifesting in different forms, each bearing a distinct signature. Ifrit's flames descended from the heavens like a rain of living magma, while another layer of fire, purer, more refined… emerged directly from the air, as if the element itself were being invoked in its most primordial form.

But it didn't stop there.

A third flame appeared.

Denser.

Ancient.

More… wrong.

The flame of Olympus.

And then—

A fourth.

Hers.

The true one.

The space around her began to collapse.

Not from destruction.

But from saturation.

It was too much fire.

Too much energy.

Too much existence concentrated in a single point.

And then… the sky responded.

Not with lava.

Not with ordinary fire.

But with the very concept of the element.

As if the sky had become… fire.

As if the apocalypse had chosen that point to begin.

Agares raised her spear slightly.

Her eyes fixed on Dante.

Who now… smiled.

Even in that state.

Even being consumed.

Still smiling.

"I hope…" she murmured, her voice now almost a whisper, but still audible amidst the absolute chaos.

"…that you can endure."

The world around them began to be swallowed.

"All the fire… that I have."

The world burned.

But… far from that absolute hell where Agares and Dante collided as forces destined to destroy everything around them…

There was another kind of event happening.

More silent.

More dangerous.

More… fundamental.

—

Seris was still kneeling.

But now… it wasn't despair anymore.

It was shock.

Her eyes were fixed on Vergil's body.

Or rather…

On what he was becoming.

His skin… was no longer static.

It moved.

Not like ordinary regeneration.

Not like physical reconstruction.

But like… rewriting.

Subtle lines ran through his body, as if invisible patterns were being redrawn from within, as if something was reorganizing not only flesh and energy… but the very structure of his existence.

The remaining heart—

It still beat.

But now… each beat reverberated.

Heavy.

Deep.

Wrong.

Seris swallowed hard.

"…this isn't healing…" she murmured, almost voiceless, her fingers still near his chest, feeling that pulse that shouldn't exist in that way.

Beside her, Sephirothy held her hand outstretched, her energy enveloping Vergil's body like an invisible layer, freezing time at that specific point, preventing the collapse from progressing.

But… it was failing.

Or rather—

It was being forced.

"It's accelerating…" Sepphirothy said, her voice low and tense, as she increased the pressure of her ability, her aura trembling slightly as she tried to contain something that clearly… didn't want to be contained.

The air around her distorted.

The flow of time there… began to creak.

She clenched her teeth.

And forced it harder.

"If I increase it a little more—"

"Stop."

The word came out immediately.

Dry.

Firm.

Sepphirothy froze.

Not for lack of reaction.

But because… it didn't make sense.

Her eyes moved slowly to Seris.

"…What?"

Seris wasn't looking at her.

Yet.

Her eyes were fixed on Vergil.

But now… there was something different about them.

It wasn't fear. It wasn't urgency.

It was… understanding.

"…stop," she repeated, lower now, but still absolute.

Sepphirothy frowned, the energy still active in her hand, but hesitating for the first time since she began.

"You want me to… stop freezing his time?" she asked, disbelief clear in her voice. "Do you realize what will happen if I do that?"

Seris took a deep breath.

Slowly.

As if she were organizing something she wasn't even sure how to explain herself.

"…I know," she said.

And then…

She finally looked at Sepphirothy.

And that… made something freeze for a second.

Because Seris didn't seem desperate.

Nor unstable.

She seemed… certain.

"…but this here…" she continued, turning her gaze slightly to Vergil, "…this isn't death advancing."

A pause.

Vergil's body convulsed slightly.

But not like before.

Now… it was rhythmic.

Almost… intentional.

"…it's something else."

Sephirothy narrowed her eyes.

Her mind began to connect.

Lilith.

The energy.

The consumed hearts.

The transference.

The body's reaction.

The resistance to time.

And then…

"…no…" she murmured, almost involuntarily.

Seris nodded slightly.

Slowly.

"…I think…" she said, her voice lower now, but laden with absurd weight.

"…that Lilith didn't try to save him."

Silence.

One second.

Two.

Three.

The heart beat again.

Stronger.

Deeper.

And the air around… responded. "…she changed him."

Sepphirothy felt something chill.

Not physically.

But… instinctively.

"Seris…" she began, but stopped.

Because now… she was seeing it too.

Not with her eyes.

But with perception.

The structure.

The signature.

The hierarchy.

That wasn't just power being injected.

It was… authority being built.

"…this is—"

"Progenitor."

The word fell.

Heavy.

Irrevocable.

Seris didn't look away.

"…I think she gave it to him."

The world seemed to hold its breath.

For a single instant.

Sepphirothy was silent.

Her brain refusing.

Reorganizing.

Trying to deny it.

Because that…

That wasn't something that "happened."

It was something that…

Existed.

Or not.

"…that's impossible," she said finally, but without conviction.

Seris gave a small smile.

Tired.

Almost ironic.

"…you still think we're dealing with possible things?" she murmured.

Vergil's body arched slightly.

His fingers moved.

Almost imperceptibly.

But real.

His heart beat again.

And this time—

Something answered.

Far away.

Very far away.

Like an echo.

As if something ancient…

Had noticed.

Sephirothy looked back at him.

And then…

Slowly…

She lowered her hand.

The energy of the temporal freeze… disappeared.

Time returned. And for a second…

Nothing happened.

…

And then—

Vergil's body gasped for air.

Violent. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Deep.

Like the first of something that… should never have been born like this.

And the world…

Changes along with it.