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Summary
The first true heat is apparently the worst.
Dante did not know that it would be so, had never gotten the chance to learn, to be warned, but still he never could have imagined the agony. He never could have dreamed that his blood would boil so hot and his rage would burn so bright with a need to claw and rend and tear and take.
The fire in his chest, an itch he could not scratch, an ache sitting low in his belly.
The haze of a first true heat was a terrible thing to know and Hell was eternally an unkind and unforgiving place.
The ground slid away from the cliff under his feet as he reached out for Vergil's hand.
With the sound of crumbling rock, Dante fell into the churning abyss of the pit and it was a long long way down.
Series
- Part 2 of A Long Way to Fall