A trail of white smoke rose in the air, adding to the cloud that had accumulated in the enclosed space. Sitting around a square-shaped table were four men. The lifeless expressions on their faces spoke of a boredom that couldn’t be lifted even with the game of old maid they were playing.
"H~ey..." One of them spoke, his voice so low it might as well be on the floor. "What’s up with the air in this room? I can hardly breathe..."
He held his hand to the guy on the left so he could take a card.
"The ventilation is broken, that’s why." The second man said as he tossed the card he took and another one on the table. "No one bothers with the maintenance of this place."
"The hell are you two talking about?" The guy on his left said. "You smoked five packs between you in the last couple hours. Of course it would get stuffy in here."
The fourth man took a card from him, then tossed it along with one from his own hand, leaving him with only one.
"I’m gonna go get some grub." He pushed his chair.
"I will have some curry." Said the first one.
"Me too." Said the second one.
"Me three." Said the third one.
"Get your damn food on your own." The fourth one sighed. "I’m not your goddamn gofer."
He ignored their complaints and walked to the door, but just as he reached for the handle heard a heavy thud startled him to a halt. The snapping that followed alerted him further.
He kept his hands on the door’s handle as if preparing to run out, but when he glanced behind him, what he saw wasn’t a piece of debris from the old ceiling as he had first predicted.
The table he and the others had used for their game was on the floor, bent beyond its repair. Sitting on it was a figure shrouded in darkness, its contour made blurry by the smoke filling the room.
In the moment it took the four to assess the situation, the figure shifted to the left and raised an arm then swiped down. The first man raised his arms instinctively to block, but the blow never arrived. Something fell on his lap, and when his eyes moved down, he realized it was his cleanly severed hand, showered by a red stream flowing from a deep gash on his chest.
The other three watched it happen with wide-eyed disbelief and only regained their senses thanks to their friend’s ear-piercing scream. Each reached for their gun, but the second man had his face grabbed by the dark figure, and an instant later, half of it was gone, creating a cutaway view of the inside of his head.
The third one took aim but the dark figure swiped his hand again and the barrel of the gun disappeared. Another swipe severed the man’s hands, and a third one ripped him in half.
Watching the carnage befalling his friends, the fourth one knew he had to escape before his turn arrived. He was late in making that decision, however. The instant he turned around, a cold hand landed on his head then pulled down, erasing everything in its way as if digging a hole in wet sand.
Grabbing him by the shoulder, the dark figure pushed him aside instead of erasing more of his flesh. Right after it opened the door and exited into the hallway.
’This thing... It’s far too good!’
Dante couldn’t stop laughing as he ran across the dimly lit hallway. His speed was far lower than what he would have liked, but that was to be expected with how much he was struggling to stay upright.
Once again, he was clad in another suit of armor. Unlike the Type 3-2 he used against Jason, however, this one was less flexible, with every last part of it being a solid component.
Though it wasn’t too bulky, the exterior was covered in metallic plating, and hearing the clang that followed each step he took, Dante figured the whole thing was much heavier than he felt.
[I’m glad it is to your liking.] Volcan spoke in an even tone. [I’m almost done gathering the necessary data so-]
Among the many armors Volcan had in his arsenal, Dante believed that this one was without a doubt his favorite. Type 8, according to the AI, specializes in space. The concept was a little difficult to grasp, but there was no need to understand the scientific side of things.
Type 8-3, the armor Dante was currently using, had two main abilities in addition to the ones carried over from the two levels below it. The first one allows him to link two spots of his choosing, creating a passage between them. The distance between the spots couldn’t be more than twenty meters, however, so he wouldn’t use it to reach his apartment from where he was.
The second ability is a different form of space manipulation. While active, anything touched by his palm gets sent somewhere. Dante had no idea exactly where, but it couldn’t be too far, considering the armor’s distance limitations. The effect makes it appear as if he’s able to erase anything with a single touch, and there is no defending against it.
Dante had trouble believing the dark suit of armor was just a Level 3. Depending on how it’s used, its capabilities could easily reach the Level 4 threshold, but there was one thing that stood in the way of that happening.
Computing Power: 7 (+40)
Activating each of the armor’s abilities consumed far too much energy. The first portal he created, which he used to escape from the room he was held in to the one right above it, consumed 50 points. After using it twice more then disposing of the four henchmen in the last room he reached, he only had enough for two more portals at most. That didn’t seem to matter, however, as the counter in the corner of his field of sight showed he had forty-five seconds remaining.
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