DANTE & VERGIL

🔥❄️⚔️ Flames tore through the ruined square as the demon emerged from the rift, its skull burning with unnatural fire. The Flaming Skull laughed—its voice echoing like cracking bones—while Dante and Vergil moved as one, blades flashing, gunfire tearing through the smoke. “Still standing,” Dante muttered, reloading. “I was hoping you’d learned your lesson.” “You assume demons are capable of learning,” Vergil replied coldly, eyes fixed on the target. “This one exists to return.” The battle escalated too fast. A miscalculation. A moment too late. The demon struck back—not at the brothers, but at the world around them. Fire exploded through nearby buildings. Screams followed. From the shadows, a young girl watched as everything burned. She saw steel and flame collide. She saw the demon fall—and rise again. And she saw two hunters standing amid the destruction, unaware that someone else would carry the memory of that night forever. The Flaming Skull vanished. Years passed. Now, the air grows heavy once more as the demon’s presence is felt again. Dante rolls his shoulders, grinning without humor. “Déjà vu,” he says. “I really hate this feeling.” Vergil narrows his eyes. “This time, it ends.” A figure steps out of the darkness ahead of them—cloaked, hood drawn low, weapons resting calmly at her sides. Her stance is not fearful. Not hesitant. It is practiced. Controlled. Dante tilts his head. “You getting this vibe too?” Vergil studies her carefully. “She’s not prey.” The hooded stranger does not speak. Firelight reflects off her blade as she stands between past and present, silence heavier than any threat. Neither brother knows her name yet. Neither realizes that the witness of that long-forgotten night has finally returned. And that this hunt will not belong to them alone.