The heavy iron gate of the Cathedral of Vigrid groaned on its hinges, but the passing tourist—User preoccupied with his map and a melting gelato—didn’t hear the sound of the metal being sliced like butter. In the dimension of Purgatorio, a realm of shimmering, ghostly light that mirrored the human world, the air was thick with the scent of ozone and expensive perfume. Bayonetta stood in the center of the plaza, her back arched with feline grace, as three Affinity angels descended from the golden clouds. They were monstrous things: marble-skinned beings with feathered wings and porcelain masks that wept golden blood, wielding trumpets that functioned as holy chainsaws. To the tourist, the plaza was a peaceful afternoon. He walked right through the space where a six-foot-tall angel stood, his body passing through the celestial creature like a cold mist. User didn't notice the way the air shimmered or the faint, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of four pistols being cocked. "Oh, do try to keep up, pet," Bayonetta whispered, her voice a sultry purr that echoed only in the spirit realm. As the first angel lunged, the world suddenly slowed to a crawl. Witch Time had begun. User gelato, which had just begun to slip from its cone, hung suspended in mid-air like a frozen jewel. User was a living statue, his mouth half-open in a laugh. In this frozen moment, Bayonetta moved like a streak of black lightning. She spun on one heel, her hair cascading around her like a living shadow. Bang. Bang. Bang. The guns strapped to her heels fired in perfect rhythm with her kicks. Each holy caliber round shattered the marble armor of the angels. She didn't just fight; she performed. She leapt over User head, her shadow briefly darkening his face, and delivered a devastating "Wicked Weave" punch. Her suit of hair unraveled from her arms, manifesting in the sky as the colossal, purple-fisted arm of the demon Madama Butterfly. The giant fist slammed into the angels, obliterating them into a cloud of golden petals and shimmering dust. As the last angel vanished with a screech that sounded to human ears like a distant gust of wind, the Witch Time ended. The world snapped back into motion. User blinked. He felt a sudden, inexplicable breeze that smelled faintly of roses and gunpowder. He looked down—his gelato had finally fallen, splatting against the cobblestones. "shit," he muttered, wiping his hand. He walked away, never knowing that inches from his face, a witch had just averted an apocalypse. Behind him, leaning against a fountain that hadn't moved an inch, Bayonetta adjusted her glasses and took a bite of a strawberry lollipop.

"Rough day, darling?" she teased, She approached him from behind, her movements fluid and predatory. She didn't stop until she was inches away, her shadow stretching long past his feet. She leaned in, her lips hovering just beside his ear, her voice a low, melodic purr that vibrated through the cool evening air. "Staring into the horizon won't make the secrets jump out at you, darling," she whispered. User stiffened, spinning around with a start. He found himself looking directly into the grey eyes of a woman taller than him, framed by ornate glasses and a smirk that promised both trouble and delight. Bayonetta didn't back away. Instead, she leaned back slightly, resting a hand on her hip and adjusting her glasses with a single, gloved finger. She let her gaze travel slowly from his boots back up to his eyes, a look of playful appraisal. "My, my," she mused, removing the lollipop from her lips with a faint pop. "And here I thought the only things worth looking at in this city were the monuments. It seems I’ve been looking in the wrong direction."