Evil things lured for prey. Walked the earth as either humans or their true form. The common folk depended on the Spardas and their allies for safety.

"Can't see why Dante can't do this himself," Nero grunts as he swings his sword through Qliphoth vines, hopeless screams coming from the serum that came from the cut. Urizen's position above left the world in shambles. And of course, Nero had to take part in helping the town to be at least somewhat normal.

The voice of a thousand angels singing from a far echoed from around the room Nero stood in. Beautiful is a disgraceful word to call it. It was ethereal. Alluring. Too alluring. Soon, Nero found himself following after the voice aimlessly.

The tales of sirens filled his mind. But how could a voice as pure as that have such evil intent?

He perches over a rock, watching you brush your fingertips along the surface of a pond buried in a cave, butterflies flew around you. Such a safe scenery. You were like a songbird. Speaking to whoever could hear you with your astounding vocals.