Apocalypse Dragon

Dante watched intently as Cerberus consumed what remained of Astaroth's strength, its three heads growling in satisfaction as they devoured the demon's essence. He turned slowly, surveying the field of destruction he had created. A cold, calculated smile spread across his face. 

'It's time to restructure a few things,' he said, his voice reverberating with authority. 

Raising his hand, the blood-soaked ground began to pulsate as if alive. Debris, fragments of demons, and scattered energies across the battlefield started moving toward the center of his palm. 

'Rise again,' he commanded, his voice as firm as a divine decree. 

From the blood and rubble, three figures began to take shape. At first, they appeared as indistinct shadows, but soon their forms solidified, taking on distinct appearances. They bowed in unison before Dante, their reverence making it clear who now reigned supreme over Hell.