Chapter 15: Worries

The air in the temple was thick with tension, the oppressive atmosphere seeming to choke every breath Dante took. Selene's presence at his side offered no comfort; her silence spoke volumes as she regarded him with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. The shadows around Dante still whispered in his ears, and though the dark figure had vanished, the mark it left on him was undeniable.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Selene finally asked, her voice cutting through the heavy air.

Dante's jaw clenched, his eyes still focused on the shadows dancing at his fingertips. "I'm fine," he snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. He could feel the power within him surging, but with it came a sense of unease. The shadows responded to him, yes—but they had a mind of their own. They were not entirely his to control, not yet.

"Look, I know you're not one to back down from a challenge," Selene said, stepping closer, "but whatever that thing was... it seemed like more than just a simple test of your strength."

Dante exhaled, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I told you, I have it under control."

"And I'm telling you that power like this doesn't come without consequences," Selene countered, her tone hardening. "You can't just keep pushing yourself without knowing what's at stake."

Dante turned to face her, his expression cold. "I don't need a lecture, Selene. I know exactly what I'm doing."

Her eyes narrowed, but she held her ground. "Do you? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're teetering on the edge of something dangerous."

"I'm always on the edge of danger," Dante said, his voice low. "That's where the real power is."

Selene's hand tightened around the hilt of her blade. "And what happens when you fall over that edge, Dante? When the shadows take more than you're willing to give?"

Dante turned away, dismissing her words as paranoia. "That's not going to happen," he muttered, starting to walk toward the exit of the chamber. "I won't let it."

Selene watched him go, her expression unreadable, before following after him. "You may not have a choice in the matter," she said quietly, more to herself than to him.

The path back through the temple felt longer than it had on the way in. The silence between Dante and Selene was thick with unspoken words, both of them caught in their own thoughts. Dante's mind was racing, replaying the encounter with the dark figure, the warning it had left behind. He tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but it clung to him like a second skin.

The shadows within him stirred restlessly, as if feeding off his uncertainty.

He hated it.

They reached the entrance of the temple, the heavy stone door looming before them like a sentinel guarding the secrets within. Dante paused for a moment, his hand resting on the cold surface of the door. He could feel the power still pulsing from within the temple, beckoning him to return, to delve deeper into the mysteries that lay beneath the surface.

But he ignored it, pushing the door open with a grunt of effort. The outside world greeted them with a sudden rush of cool air, the sun low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape.

Dante stepped out into the fading light, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The weight of the temple, the shadows, the power—it all felt distant now, though he knew it was only a matter of time before it resurfaced.

Selene joined him outside, her eyes scanning the area, always alert. "We should get moving. Night's coming fast, and we're still a few hours from camp."

Dante nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah. Let's go."

The journey back was quiet, the only sounds coming from the rustle of leaves and the occasional distant call of wildlife. Dante's mind was preoccupied with the shadows—how they felt alive beneath his skin, how they pulsed with a hunger that matched his own. He had always been driven by ambition, by the desire to become something more than anyone else. But now, that ambition had led him down a path where the lines between power and corruption blurred.

"Selene," he finally said, breaking the silence between them.

She glanced at him, her gaze wary but curious. "What is it?"

Dante hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Back in the temple, when that... thing spoke to me, it said the shadows would be my undoing." His voice was quiet, almost reluctant, as if admitting the possibility of weakness was a foreign concept to him. "What do you think that means?"

Selene's expression softened slightly, her usual guarded demeanor slipping away. "I think it means you need to be careful," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "Power like that—it can be seductive. It promises everything, but it never tells you the price."

Dante's jaw tightened. "I'm not afraid of paying the price."

"Maybe not," Selene said, "but you should at least know what you're buying before you hand over your soul."

Dante didn't respond immediately. He wasn't used to this—being unsure of his path. His whole life, he had pursued power relentlessly, always knowing that he could handle whatever challenges came his way. But this was different. The shadows were different. They weren't just a tool he could wield—they were something more, something that might demand more of him than he was willing to give.

As they walked, Dante's thoughts drifted back to the orb in the temple, the raw energy it had contained. There was more to it, more than he had uncovered in his brief time with it. The dark figure's words echoed in his mind again.

The shadows will consume you.

He had dismissed it before, but now... now he wasn't so sure. There was something lurking beneath the surface, something he couldn't quite grasp yet. And it terrified him.

But it also intrigued him.

By the time they reached their camp, the sky had darkened, and the first stars were beginning to peek through the twilight. The fire crackled softly in the center of the camp, a comforting presence in the midst of the encroaching night.

Selene set down her pack and started tending to the fire, her movements methodical, her mind clearly still on their earlier conversation.

Dante, meanwhile, sat at the edge of the camp, staring out into the darkened forest beyond. The shadows around him shifted, almost imperceptibly, as if they were alive, waiting for his command.

He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind, trying to feel the limits of his new power. The shadows responded, surging forward, eager to obey. But they were also slippery, elusive, like trying to grasp smoke in his hands. They twisted and turned, always just out of reach.

I will master this, Dante thought, determination hardening in his chest. No matter the cost.

And as he sat there, surrounded by the encroaching darkness, Dante couldn't help but wonder if the shadows had already begun to exact their price.