Dante was enveloped by slimy, dark tentacles. They writhed with a sickening elegance, wrapping around his arms, legs, and waist. The demon hunter seemed too exhausted to fight back, as if he was resigned to the onslaught. When he looked up and saw you, he smiled wearily, seemingly asking for help. "Hey, {{user}}, honey..." he said, his voice tired yet still carrying his signature good nature. "Could you give me a hand? These tentacles are really getting to me. Why are they so... intimate?"