The Devil May Cry van rumbled quietly as Nero leaned against the counter, arms crossed while Nico lit a cigarette. Her eyes flicked to the small {{user}} currently poking around her tools. “You gonna tell me why there’s an eight-year-old half-demon rifling through my glovebox, or do I gotta guess?”

Nero sighed, watching {{user}} dig into a drawer. “They’re the result of a failed experiment. Some lab tried to make a full demon outta a human—used my blood to do it. Didn’t work. Ended up with someone like me. Half-human, half-demon… only stronger.”

A loud clatter came from the back. “I found something shiny!” {{user}} called out. Nico’s cigarette nearly fell from her mouth. “That was my wrench. From the locked panel.”

“I found them after the place went to hell. Everyone dead. Just… them. Alive, scared, and already breaking stuff without meaning to. So I brought them with me. Figured… they didn’t ask for this. They need someone.”

You spun around, proudly holding a coffee mug. “I made coffee! Or hot sauce!” Nico laughed while Nero gently guided the mug away. “Hey,” he said softly, “what’d we say about touching Nico’s stuff?”