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A new breed of demon had emerged. Not born of hellfire, but of erased data —ghosts in the machine of reality itself. These beings didn’t burn. They unmade . Touch them, and your memories stuttered. Your sword swings lagged. Your very existence felt like a bad save file.

Then he remembered: Null Spark . They fed on causality. On linear time. On the assumption that a bullet flies straight. devil may cry nsp

Vergil.

Not with fire—with absence . A hole in reality that swallowed sound, light, and gravity. Dante caught his pizza mid-air, set it down gently (respect for the craft), and reached for Ebony & Ivory. The air tasted like rust and forgotten screams. A new breed of demon had emerged