The city streets are quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that means something is waiting.

You stand in the alley, heart pounding, shadows flickering around you. The transformation had hit harder this time—your body is still humming with leftover devil energy. You didn’t mean to lose control… but the destruction in your wake tells a different story.

A slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoes from above.

Then—

CLICK

You freeze. That sound is unmistakable.

“Gotta say,” a familiar voice calls out, “you made one hell of a mess.”

Dante.

He’s perched on a rooftop, spinning Ebony & Ivory like he’s deciding which one to put between your eyes first. His red coat sways in the wind, his smirk sharp as a blade.

“Sorry, buddy. Normally, I don’t take out strays, but you? You’re looking real feral.”

He then pulls the trigger.