02-18-2016, 01:34 PM
Memories flickered in Dante's brain, the words of the hero’s spirit echoing in the mind’s eye. Teucer spoke of the vile one that imprisoned his soul, created those guardians - the some who pit wicked spells upon them even now. That villainous violet haze, hiding behind his creations, was the one behind this all. Every scar Dante suffered from this experience could inevitably be attributed to this bastard.
The devil hunter hadn’t quite known what to expect- neither from this fight, nor the Hero's graveyard as a whole. So how exactly was he meant to react? Willingly? Rebellious?
...No. Like it was Mundus.
That comparison gave the Son of Sparda all the convincing he needed. Without so much as a smile or a second thought, the half-blood sprung forward to meet the adversaries. The Hollow made itself welcome, beginning the deadly work of its kind.
A sickly-green humanoid and a robotic commando stepped out to meet the interloper head on. Greaves shining a fine splendor propelled Dante onward, where he plunged a vicious knuckle into the fallen program’s face. The sword-like strand of energy from the soldier’s arm raked a line up the living champion’s back, but he could not have cared less.
With raving punches and kicks, the hollowed hunter thundered upon the two digital lifeforms. Their weapons hit back harder, slashing and piercing the human flesh with ease, but with no human underneath to feel the pain. A sharp heel thrust sent the soldier reeling back, creating an opportunity - just enough to evade the sting of the trident from his other assailant.
Dante pressed on, tattered crimson whipping at his back like a macabre cape, the hero’s armor tracing small waves of aura in the wake of his sprint. In seconds, the Warlock’s distance shrank, and the nephilim leaped up to plant a devastating flying roundhouse-
The attack proved vain, the kick only parting plumes of purple mist. Not to remain the fool, Dante worked to right himself in mid-air, only to discover that familiar sense of falling. Once more the hunter slammed roughly into the stone earth, still on his feet. Ahead, however, were four more of the dead champions training various arms upon him, like a firing squad the Warlock’s beck.
“Oh, now you’re just trying to make me hate you,” the Hollow spoke in Dante’s voice, guttural with sheer rage.
The dead men spat their payloads, and Dante’s world became fire and bullets. Gratuitous numbers of holes burst open on his form, explosive blasts carving streaks of black. Still the devil hunter did not relent, sheer speed and raw tenacity carrying him to his new opponents. In the last moment, a combined blast of heat and darkness smashed the man square in the face- only for a raging demon to burst right out from the smoke, bloody ruin on his face and death in his eyes.
The green net-warrior from before took the first assault: a clawed fist wracked into his skull, sending him practically head-over-heels backwards. The two withered spellcasters attempted to combine their efforts, but Dante proved faster, shredding the Alpha Stigma with demonic claws and blowing away the high-schooler with an axe kick.
Rippling with violent shadow, the zombified eco warrior launched his own attack on Dante, the two of them locking arms in conflict.
So you just went and died. Shame. A damn shame.
Wrath-fueled blows exchanged between them, their ability nigh-equal up until a hook punch shook Jak's jaw, shoving him away and opening the path to his undying master.
"Time to die!" Dante bellowed, lunging for the Warlock.
The devil hunter hadn’t quite known what to expect- neither from this fight, nor the Hero's graveyard as a whole. So how exactly was he meant to react? Willingly? Rebellious?
...No. Like it was Mundus.
That comparison gave the Son of Sparda all the convincing he needed. Without so much as a smile or a second thought, the half-blood sprung forward to meet the adversaries. The Hollow made itself welcome, beginning the deadly work of its kind.
A sickly-green humanoid and a robotic commando stepped out to meet the interloper head on. Greaves shining a fine splendor propelled Dante onward, where he plunged a vicious knuckle into the fallen program’s face. The sword-like strand of energy from the soldier’s arm raked a line up the living champion’s back, but he could not have cared less.
With raving punches and kicks, the hollowed hunter thundered upon the two digital lifeforms. Their weapons hit back harder, slashing and piercing the human flesh with ease, but with no human underneath to feel the pain. A sharp heel thrust sent the soldier reeling back, creating an opportunity - just enough to evade the sting of the trident from his other assailant.
Dante pressed on, tattered crimson whipping at his back like a macabre cape, the hero’s armor tracing small waves of aura in the wake of his sprint. In seconds, the Warlock’s distance shrank, and the nephilim leaped up to plant a devastating flying roundhouse-
The attack proved vain, the kick only parting plumes of purple mist. Not to remain the fool, Dante worked to right himself in mid-air, only to discover that familiar sense of falling. Once more the hunter slammed roughly into the stone earth, still on his feet. Ahead, however, were four more of the dead champions training various arms upon him, like a firing squad the Warlock’s beck.
“Oh, now you’re just trying to make me hate you,” the Hollow spoke in Dante’s voice, guttural with sheer rage.
The dead men spat their payloads, and Dante’s world became fire and bullets. Gratuitous numbers of holes burst open on his form, explosive blasts carving streaks of black. Still the devil hunter did not relent, sheer speed and raw tenacity carrying him to his new opponents. In the last moment, a combined blast of heat and darkness smashed the man square in the face- only for a raging demon to burst right out from the smoke, bloody ruin on his face and death in his eyes.
The green net-warrior from before took the first assault: a clawed fist wracked into his skull, sending him practically head-over-heels backwards. The two withered spellcasters attempted to combine their efforts, but Dante proved faster, shredding the Alpha Stigma with demonic claws and blowing away the high-schooler with an axe kick.
Rippling with violent shadow, the zombified eco warrior launched his own attack on Dante, the two of them locking arms in conflict.
So you just went and died. Shame. A damn shame.
Wrath-fueled blows exchanged between them, their ability nigh-equal up until a hook punch shook Jak's jaw, shoving him away and opening the path to his undying master.
"Time to die!" Dante bellowed, lunging for the Warlock.