The End of the Giants

Dante, his feet far from the ground, gently rose, his body levitating in the air as if gravity were a mere joke. The gray sky above the giants' realm seemed to distort even further with his presence. He observed the remnants of the giants, their bloodied bodies and eyes filled with terror. The power in his golden eyes was no longer a vague threat but a promise of absolute destruction.

He raised a hand, and the air around him distorted, making the ruins in the distance pulse with dark energy. Dante looked at the surviving giants, his cruel smile still evident, but now with a more palpable ferocity.

"Submission or Death?" he asked, his voice echoing like thunder, reverberating through the mountains and valleys, reaching the ears of the last resistants.

The giants, the few that remained, looked at each other. Fear was clear, but there was something else in their eyes — a fury, a desperate will to fight. They would not bend. Not without one last attempt at revenge.