If Dante had been standing, he would have collapsed into the chair from sheer shock.
"Holy shit... they were telling the truth. Oh... fuck," he muttered, gripping his face with both hands. A subtle pressure began to rise inside Ajuka's tent, faint yet undeniable—a tension brewing from the human's unstable energy.
Sirzechs took a cautious step forward, his voice laced with both concern and urgency. "What truth, Dante? What did they say? Why does this bother you so much?"
Dante glanced at him between his fingers, eyes distant and stormy. "It bothers me, Sirzechs, because I've been sent back in time—1,586 years into the past. And not just anywhere. I'm in hell."
He jumped up, pacing in short, agitated steps as a string of curses left his lips. Both devils stared at him, stunned.
"You're from... the future?" they asked in perfect unison.
"Yeah," Dante said, exasperated. "September 18th, 2018. Not that it means anything to you." With a heavy sigh, he dropped back into the chair, burying his face in his hands. "This is F.U.B.A.R."
Ajuka looked thunderstruck, and even Sirzechs, known for maintaining composure under stress, seemed shaken. But then, something sparked behind Sirzechs' eyes—a glimmer of hope.
"Do we win the civil war?" he asked with cautious optimism.
Ajuka elbowed him in the ribs.
Dante scoffed. "I have no idea. Six months ago, I was a minimum-wage employee at a place called Wal-Mart. The most 'supernatural' thing in my life was the customers that walked through the doors." He rubbed his temples, visibly trying to push away the rising tide of panic. "Just thinking about them gives me a migraine."
The two devils wisely stayed silent. The revelation had stunned them into reflection. Ajuka, a scholar of demonic lore and magic, could not recall any authentic accounts of time travel. Not even from the oldest grimoires.
Sirzechs, meanwhile, struggled to find the words to console Dante. But if Ajuka didn't have answers, he certainly didn't either.
"I don't know what to say," Ajuka admitted. "I've never seen or heard of time travel being successfully performed. So whatever brought you here... must be immensely powerful." He looked sharply to Sirzechs. "Almost like it wanted you to be here."
Sirzechs opened his mouth, only for Ajuka to lift a hand, ready to slap him if he dared say what he was clearly thinking.
"It's too convenient to pass off as coincidence," Ajuka muttered.
Something in Dante's eyes shifted, curiosity breaking through the fog of stress.
Ajuka took that as a sign to continue. "A hundred years ago, the civil war was just a whisper. We were still recovering from the second celestial conflict. But as time passed, division and unrest festered. Territories fractured. Families turned against each other. Then came the full-scale war."
Sirzechs picked up from there. "Luckily, we had time to prepare. Seventeen noble houses of the Ars Goetia sided with us, along with many lesser families. But while we outnumber them, the old-Satan faction has higher-class devils. The odds are even, but not for long. They gain ground with every battle."
Ajuka let out a breath. "We needed a game-changer. Then six months ago, a star falls from the sky... and you appear. And now, here you are. Intelligent. Resilient. Dangerous."
Dante gave a dry smile. "You're painting me like some chosen one. That trope's overdone back home."
Sirzechs tilted his head. "What do they enjoy in your time, then?"
Dante smirked. "Memes."
Both devils blinked.
Before they could derail the conversation, Dante returned to the matter at hand. "Where I'm from, we understand the world in ways you might call magic. But it's science. Fire? Chemistry. Anatomy? Biology. If I were a man of this era, I'd probably call you heretics."
Ajuka winced, mentally kicking himself for not realizing it earlier. Dante's command over anatomical understanding, his skepticism, his casual analysis of magical mechanisms—he was no ordinary human.
Then something clicked.
"Do humans use magic in your time?" Ajuka asked.
Dante shook his head. "No. But we have things that mimic it. Long-distance communication, prosthetic limbs, even virtual reality. We build on nature's laws to create convenience. We're advanced. Still flawed, but growing."
Ajuka absorbed every word. He knew of prosthetics. But "virtual reality" was a mystery to him. Still, he didn't press—not yet. He sensed Dante was holding back for a reason.
Changing topics, Dante asked, "You said earlier that my aging was halted. How strong is it? Can I survive long enough to return to my time?"
Ajuka nodded. "From what I've scanned, your body is in a form of stasis. You're aging slower than most devils. You might outlive us all."
Sirzechs joined in. "I'm 1,200. That's considered youthful. Our parents are over 2,000. The oldest devil? Zekram Bael. He's pushing 5,000."
Dante's brow rose. "So if I don't get killed in this war, I might actually live to see 2018 again."
He exhaled slowly. "That's going to be a long damn wait."
"Assuming the civil war doesn't kill you first," Sirzechs added.
Dante gave him a mock glare. "Six months in a cell, surrounded by torturers, and I'm still breathing. That should say something."
Sirzechs lowered his gaze. "...You've got a point."
Dante turned to Ajuka, all sarcasm now gone. "If that's all, then I ask again: can I join the war effort?"
Ajuka studied him, his eyes narrowing into a razor-sharp gleam. "Physically, mentally, emotionally... you're ready. But answer this: Why do you fight? For glory? For revenge?"
Dante was ready.
He had asked himself that very question every day for the past half-year. In that dungeon. In the dark. In pain. With nothing but his thoughts.
And now he spoke with iron in his voice.
"We humans fight for many reasons. Pride. Love. Hatred. But what drives the soldier to kill—to stain his soul with sin—is morality. It's the desire to protect. To preserve what's good in the world, even if we must wade through hell to do it."
His eyes hardened. "In six months, I watched children scream for help that never came. I watched mothers beaten for protecting them. I saw fathers broken for defying cruelty."
"I can't fix the past. But I can bury the bastards responsible."
Sirzechs and Ajuka were silent, shaken by the conviction in his voice.
"You asked me why I fight?"
Dante stepped forward, eyes burning with unyielding purpose.
"I fight because I refuse to let that horror continue. I'll bury the old-Satan faction. And when I do... it's going to be biblical."
Ajuka and Sirzechs exchanged a look. A mutual understanding passed silently between them.
They liked the sound of that.