It was night. Dante walked calmly toward Tyler's house; he had no idea why, but he knew that the most influential people in the village would be gathered there.
The leaders—current and former—, the elders, key figures among the eight and nine stars.
Maybe it was a banquet? That would be really nice. Dante had been eating in larger quantities with every increase in strength.
Thump.
His heart even beat with excitement, and Slay, on his shoulder, noticed it. The little snake smiled in its own way, always excited about everything.
Siiizzzz.
Slay began slithering along Dante's arm, trying to please him—and he succeeded. The two of them seemed to share an incredible connection.
In the silence of the night, only Dante and Slay could be seen. The night was beautiful, and each step made him want to slow down and enjoy the moment.
Thump thump.
Dante was truly ignorant; he didn't care about anything. His steps, following their own rhythm, showed the purest expression of free will.
As long as he was happy or pleased with something, that was enough—and this moment was pleasant. So he slowed down and began observing his surroundings.
This was already the elders' quarter. Here, the houses were better prepared, though still superficially simple. As the main figures of the village, their homes had some priority, albeit small.
To the left, there were three medium-sized houses, made entirely of wood, with simple roofs, yet at least twice the size of the houses in the common part of the village.
To the right, several houses also lined the path, but one stood out: completely made of stone, larger and more compact. Dante had heard it was built by the eccentric leader of the seventh generation.
He continued walking calmly down the small road. Tonight was strangely pleasant—perhaps because he had reached level 1?
Thump thump thump.
Maybe becoming strong was really exci…
— Exciting! Isn't it?
A voice sounded, cutting off his thought. It was typical of Tyler to say what Dante was thinking.
Thump thump thump thump.
They weren't beats of happiness.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. Thump.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump…
It was horror. Fear. Unpredictability. And something that should never exist.
For at this moment, standing before Dante was…
...
At Tyler's house, countless people were conversing.
It was the largest house in the village—the leader's house represented his position: large, but with few possessions. It represented the leader's grandeur and his duty to protect the people, even if they were only one or two. Honor, pride, strength, and will.
There were the village's center of influence and power: four at level 2, thirteen at almost-level 2, and twenty-seven between eight and nine stars.
Everyone spoke animatedly about the village's future. There was hope that humanity would rise again in this world and show its dominance once more.
One of the main topics was Dante—genius, prodigy, talent, the next leader.
Everyone wanted to meet him: his personality, his mindset. To them, he was a symbol of hope, even more so after Tyler's bold declaration about his achievements.
They had all seen him in that terrible state earlier, but now they wished to see him as a true leader—someone they could follow.
The conversations flowed cheerfully when suddenly a silence took over.
Then an explosion followed.
Boom.
"What was that?" many wondered.
However, only a few rushed toward the source of the noise.
...
Back at the village entrance.
Dante's heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.
"How is this… possible?"
"Well, who knows," the being replied before Dante could even finish the thought.
But that was trivial. What was terrifying was that the being was identical to Dante.
Its features were almost the same—no, they were completely the same: face, hair, smile, posture.
Sisssssssss.
Slay started hissing and hid inside Dante's collar. He seemed to have fled—something entirely unlike the personality of that brave little snake.
"You took your time, Dante. Or… should I refer to you as me?" the other Dante asked, wearing a carefree smile.
As soon as he spoke, Dante's guard had never been so high. The only thing in his mind was that other version of himself. Nothing would stop him from keeping his eyes on him.
"Are you… scared?" the other Dante asked, in a strange tone—somewhat frightened, yet lifeless.
Dante didn't answer. He simply stared, distrustful. The other seemed perfect—too perfect.
"We are one. Maybe separated…" he murmured.
"We… should become one again."
He spoke completely ignoring Dante's suspicion.
Tack.
A small crack sounded—the pinky finger of the other Dante.
But the moment that sound echoed, Dante lunged forward with a brutal punch.
That tiny crack might seem insignificant, but Dante only snapped his pinky finger when he was hungry—it was a way of amusing himself with the situation.
However, when the other snapped his finger, something was different. It wasn't hunger for food. It was hunger for existence, for priority—something no outsider would ever understand.
But Dante understood. He desired to become the true…