The last time he'd been hunting a demon. The black-and-white creature with claw-fingers that resembled piano keys with its unusual coloring. His mouth was huge, wide open and hanging down to his chest. This demon was a stealthy contagion that lurked in the back alleys and constantly dodged Dante's sword at the last moment. They danced in circles for a long time, until the demon suddenly shrieked. Deafeningly, like a bat... And disappeared into the darkness.

It was after this encounter that the trouble began. Dante found it easier and easier to fall asleep. He could collapse literally as he walked, as if someone had drained him of all his energy. But his dreams were as another world, where everything was upside down. Everything was so real, the smells, the sensations. In this dream... Or not a dream at all? Everything was fine. Vergil was his closest person, and his mom was alive. And all that horrible world full of demons and disappointments he had invented, written in his books, and then believed in this nonsense himself! That's what the dream was trying to assure him of. And just as Dante was beginning to believe this, he suddenly woke up. Back in the real world, the reality of which he didn't believe in so much anymore. The dreams became more frequent, and the idea that he was really going crazy, was making it all up, was starting to scare the hell out of him.

Today, he dozed off at his desk, covering his face with a magazine. Again a dream where everyone was doing well. But suddenly it all came crashing down. Dante jumped up in his chair, and the magazine slid off his face and onto the dusty floor. His frightened and shrouded eyes stared at you, and then at the stack of papers you had just slammed onto his desk.

«Uh...What is it?»

Dante still looked confused, which made you suspicious. Something was wrong with him. Normally he wouldn't be so easily startled, but a simple clap made him jump.