SHADOWBURN.

Chapter 17: Shadowborn

The creature didn't hesitate.

One second, it was across the room. The next—it was on them.

Dante barely had time to react before the air shimmered—a distortion of space, like heat rising off the pavement. The creature blurred, then reappeared behind him, its clawed hand aimed straight for his heart.

Instinct took over.

Dante twisted, golden energy flaring to life around him. He barely managed to deflect the strike, his arm colliding with the creature's claw. The impact sent a sharp shockwave through the air—metal groaned, walls cracked.

It was strong.

Stronger than anything they had faced so far.

Cain was already moving. His dagger flashed, slicing toward the creature's exposed ribs. But—

The blade passed straight through it.

Like cutting through smoke.

Cain cursed. "Are you kidding me?"

Lyra fired. Three shots. Precise. Deadly.

The creature let them hit.

But instead of falling, it absorbed them. The bullets melted into its dark form, disappearing like raindrops into an endless void.

Then it laughed.

Low. Rumbling.

Dante's breath came fast. His fingers curled into fists. This thing wasn't just fighting them.

It was playing.

"You are learning," the creature whispered into his mind, its golden eyes gleaming. "But you are still—"

Dante moved.

Faster than before.

His body blurred—one step, then another. The world around him seemed to slow, his golden energy pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

Then—

He struck.

His fist connected with the creature's chest, and this time—it didn't pass through.

It landed.

The creature staggered. Its expression flickered—shock, amusement, something else.

Dante didn't stop.

He drove forward, golden energy crackling around his body. Another punch—then a kick. Each strike was precise, brutal, fueled by the surge of power coursing through his veins.

The creature hissed.

Not in pain.

In recognition.

Then, without warning—

It retreated.

The shadows curled around it, swallowing it whole.

And just like that—it was gone.

Dante stood there, chest heaving, golden energy still pulsing beneath his skin.

Cain let out a slow breath. "Well… that was new."

Lyra holstered her gun, her green eyes narrowed. "It could've killed us. But it didn't."

Dante swallowed hard.

She was right.

That thing—that person—had his eyes.

And it hadn't been trying to win.

It had been testing him.

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