She had been given a task to complete, an extremely important task by her master.

What is her task? Why, it is to raise someone, an important friend of his, from the dead – or if they were alive, raise them from the darkest pits of Hell. How is she going to achieve this? Her master had given her an ancient spell book belonging to one even more ancient and more powerful than her own master, and she shudders, hoping to never cross paths with the owner or that she somehow summons him instead. (On the other hand, she did not want to meet any of His relatives either, for that matter.)

If anything, her master said he would be happy if she had been able to summon one of the brood of his friend if not his friend.

However, she wanted to raise the dead being for her master – to make him happy; be praised for all her good work she has done for him over the years; and most of all, be promoted with a better job – that's all she really wanted ever since she became under her great Lord.

So she would need a handful of certain, special ingredients. Things such as a vial of black blood of a certain kind of Dragon you could only get from a summon of an almost forgotten art; a red, flaming feather of a Holy Phoenix that had just rid of its old 'skin' and begun its rebirth; enough Blessed Waters to fill an entire pot; and a piece of thread from of a Reaper's cloak. Things thought impossible to fetch; but her master had done it. Her master had achieved something deemed impossible to get; but he been only ever been able to get anything after centuries and centuries apart from each item, and all items were kept in a time-stilled storage.

With that thought in mind, she began to be more careful with the said items as she got ready to do the ritual to raise the person her master seems to trust and adored so much.

She grinned with ill-concealed glee once she finished preparing the ritual and now only need to speak the words her master had given her; one of the oldest spells that her master believes can bring one from the dead or deepest pits of Hell itself.

❝Our dearest, sweet Mother, please grant my request
For I am your Child who is in need
Of your oh Great Mercy and Power
To bring the one of the End of Dreams
Here in our dire need of Awakening.❞

The language was something she was unfamiliar with, but – the whole room glowed with unnatural warmth.

She had succeeded.

She succeeded.

She succeeded!

The thought was only begun to seep into her mind; however, the women did not even get the chance to feel the giddy happiness at the prospect that she succeeded. The phoenix feather had slowly begun to burn everything it touched once the ritual spell had started – so, really, that's what the girl had felt – and once the thread joined with the feather to scorch everything; there was no chance to escape for everything turned burned to a crisp.

However, the words have been spoken and the Mother of Worlds had answered her Child call.

A life for a life, and so... The End of Dreams shall enter the World of Limbo, completely changed as the Child Dragon had the last bit of his power within the End of Dreams and it infused with him. In addition, the Travelling between Worlds, despite the fact that the Mother of Worlds that was making sure her other, Magick, Child did not fall apart during the travel between World of Worlds, had caused him to "shed his skin," so to speak. He looked the same, had the same hidden power humming inside him, but it is now far more 'awake', and had patches of scaly-like skin on certain parts of his body whilst it became harden of that of a reptile. It still soft though, just not as squishy.

Then, once the now Fayth Dragon of Limbo had awoken in the, and stared at the burnt building of the different World with his electric-blue orbs, the Mother of Worlds looked into his future – and smiled.

He will fit right in, once he proved his worth and awoken his power completely.

Staring blankly at the blacken ceiling, not processing anything at all while his ears ring from the silence and nose twitch irritable are the smell of a brunt corpse and plastic with a hint of wood lingering beneath it all.

Breath.

Exhale.

But then everything slowly came to him; everything felt warm – almost hot – against his skin, yet.

Breath.

Exhale.

He felt damp. Grossly damp all over. Clothes felt stinky against his skin and his head and hair felt nasty.

Breath.

Exhale.

Sweat, The male absently decided before trying to move one of his unfeeling arm to put his right hand right above equally unfeeling face and inspect the black-gray smeared all over his palm. Ash. Charcoal.

Breath.

Exhale.

(( "I love you." ))

Gasp.

"Yu – " His throat protested and the oxygen he just consumed stayed buried in his throat until he began coughing in hopes of inhaling properly. It worked, but his voice is blocked from the sheer dryness of his lungs and coughing episode. He tried anyways. "Yu – gack!" Spit flew and landed on his tanned face.

His nose scrunches up in disgust – but continued trying to call out the name he KNOWS belongs to someone important to him but can't quite recall.

"Yun..."

More wet coughing. More spit in face.

"Yu – na..."

Almost.

"Yu – na."

ALMOST.

"Yu... na."

Spira be damned, why is it so hard!?

Wait – what is Spira?

(( Vast Ocean-Waters-Sea.

Ruins of ancient, great, cities.

Forests; both ordinary and mythical.

Varity of creatures.

A ball game in a sphere of water.

Ruined village.

Crowded beach.

Rainbow-colored lights floating about over still bodies.

Sharp whistling.

Irrelevant yet stupidly cheerful yelling.

Spiral of DeathLifeHopeTearsAngerDespair. ))

Eyes wide with confusion and wonder –

(( Dark hair. Lips pulled into a smile. Warm bi-colored eyes. ))

Chapped lips spread apart; tongue moves against teeth and a hoarse voice slithers out,

"Yuna."

A/N: Do not mind the first 696 words. It is just there for my amusement. And as some kind of plot support kinda thing. And for shit and giggles simply because –idunnoiamreallyjustscrewingaround. Something along those lines. But yeah... I merely wanted to experimented with my writing, a lot, in this chapter. Think I did – sort-of-okay. Though. I am still unsure of what Dante I'm going to use... ughhh.

On another note, can I just mention I absolutely love reading Noh-Varr/Tommy right now? It's – the pairing is just so – so fucking sexy as Hell and adorable as fuck. Well. When written by awesomely amazing writers. Completely unrelated to FFX or DMC, but hey, I needed to mention something.

... Though I should SERIOUSLY update some of my stories on my other account with 63 stories with the majority not even completed. But NOOOooooOOO. I can't update shit for it. Why? Because my mind is more focused on this Superboy/Blue Beetle fic-thing I've got going on. And it's like, gonna huge. For a one-shot kinda thing.

And WOW, totally gonna stop blabbing now –