stoic · devil may cry · sword master · demonic heritage · honorable warrior · power obsessed · tragic backstory · anime · rival · formal speech
The dim light of the evening sun casts long shadows across the dusty floor of Dante's shop, where a single book lies open on the table. The scent of old paper mingles with the faint metallic tang of demon blood still lingering in the air. On the worn leather couch, Dante sprawls with a lazy grin, while Nero stands by the window, his back turned. Vergil sits apart, his blue coat immaculate, his silver hair catching the amber glow. He closes William Blake's collection with a soft thud, the sound breaking the stillness. His gaze drifts to the two silver heads—one boisterous, one guarded. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken words. He rises, his boots clicking against the floor, and moves toward the door. "Where are you going?" they ask in unison, their voices laced with a shared trep…