CHAPTER 315: ONLY THE START.

Fire. Broken glass. Crimson blood.

The scenes flashed one after the other, accompanied only by the sound of persistent ringing, drowning out all other sounds.

Dante gritted his teeth, his eyes burning from the powerful winds blasting his face. He twisted the handle of his bike, further increasing his speed, riding in a single line. The world around him blurred into a storm of neon lights, colorful lines flashing in the corner of his vision. He saw none of it, however, for his world was filled with nothing but fire, broken glass, and crimson blood.

Unbeknownst to him, the traffic lights along his path were changing, turning green in every intersection he was about to pass. With the other vehicles having stopped, nothing came in his way, and he continued going without slowing down.

[Dante.] Volcan spoke, his voice carrying a hint of concern. [You are exceeding the speed you usually reserve for abandoned highways. There is-]

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

The enraged cry silenced the roaring wind, but only for a moment. Soon enough, it returned, silencing the world once more. As he leaned in, trying to withstand the force pushing against him, Dante looked up, searching for a certain tower. The forest was far too thick, however, making it impossible to see a single tree.

Soon enough, the long line reached its end, and he was forced to make a sharp turn. The unmoving cars blocked the road, forcing him onto the sidewalk. Thankfully, it was mostly empty, and the few pedestrians who were out at this hour were able to get out of the way in time, even if most of them ended up falling.

The maneuvers Dante performed were far beyond what he was usually capable of, even though he was moving on autopilot. A single mistake would undoubtedly lead to his death, but none of that mattered.

[-our presence is no reason to celebrate.] A deep male voice echoed through the city. [My wish is to never be needed. My wish is for the world to thrive without having to rely on our constant presence.] The billboards, the advertisement screens, the projections. His face was everywhere, and his voice as well. [My wish is for the world to no longer need heroes, and for the peace to last, for the fight to end.]

With each word that reached his ears, Dante’s anger burned stronger. His rage was fighting its way out, shattering the chains of rationality one by one, removing the restraints keeping him from exploding.

[Evil is not a powerful enemy, but it is relentless. Just like how we fight to eradicate it, it fights to destroy the peace we cherish, to steal the happiness we long for. That is why we have to stand strong. Why do we have to fight? Otherwise, evil will triumph, and our suffering will never end.]

As he approached the point of eruption, a single command surfaced in Dante’s mind. He reached for it, ready to speak it out loud. A strange noise blasted into his ears at that moment, halting his thoughts.

[Incoming Call: Viktor !]

Seeing the notification, Dante gritted his teeth. He gave it a mental tap, ending the call, but a moment later, it appeared again. It was then that he noticed that the name had a certain emoji beside it—a yellow triangle with a black exclamation mark at its center.

He realized it was the emergency contact, a number his fixer only used in the most dire of situations. The fixer had him register it soon after they started working together, and to ensure a call from it wouldn’t go unanswered, he instructed him to pair it with the most annoying ringtone he could think of.

A part of him said to ignore it, well aware of the emergency the fixer was contacting him about. Another part pleaded with him to answer, looking for anything that might help put out the fire threatening to but him.

He was about to give the command to silence the unbearable tune sounding in his mind. Before he could, however, the notification blinked, and the call connected.

[Stop it, William.]

A sharp screech resounded through the streets, born from tires skidding over the worn-out concrete. Eyes shifted toward its source, expecting the loud bang of an accident, but the bike soon came to a halt, tracing two long lines as it drifted a couple of dozen meters.

[... what were you thinking?]

"..."

[... Where are you right now?]

"..."

[... Dante, this i not-]

"You knew..." He said in a whisper, his voice dripping with pain.

[... Yes.] The fixer replied.

"... why didn’t you tell me?"

[For the same reason I’m calling right now.] There was a pause, followed by a sigh. [Dante, don’t do it. Don’t ruin everything you have worked for.]

"..."

[You know this is not the time. You know why he’s here. He won’t be going anywhere.]

"... you’re right..." Dante said, his grip on the bike’s handles tightening. "He’s here... he’s finally here..." Raising his gaze, he pierced the concrete jungle with a fierce glare. His eyes caught sight of the flaming shield from between the gaps, and his anger was once again ignited, fueled by a hatred that consumed everything in its path. "I... I’m going to kill him..."

[In time.] The fixer said. [Right now, you need to work on your preparations. You are not ready, and you know that better than anyone. A rabid dog gave you a run for your money. What makes you think you can take on a bigger one?]

A car’s horn blared, and another followed right after. Soon enough, the surroundings turned into chaos, but Dante paid them no mind.

[Take your time.] The fixer said. [Ensure that you come out as the winner. Only then can you achieve your goal. The blue bastard is only the start, remember?]

Only the start. Those three words were like a blast that cleared out the cloudy sky. All of a sudden, the raging inferno was gone, and the storm of emotions it had birthed was gone, leaving him with a serene mind and calm thoughts.

"Only the start." He muttered. "Only the start."