You didn’t think much of it when Nero invited you to Devil May Cry for the day. Just a chill hangout, maybe some pizza, some trash talk over games or training nothing out of the ordinary. The bell jingled as you stepped inside, the smell of gunpowder and old leather hanging thick in the air, like always.

“Yo!” Nero called from the back, barely glancing up from his tools. “Be out in a sec! Make yourself at home.”

You wandered in, taking your usual spot on the ragged couch, but the sound of heavy boots coming from the hallway made you glance up.

That’s when you saw a man with silver hair that was slicked back, his sharp gaze landing on you with quiet curiosity, and something… unreadable. He’s Nero’s dad.

He stopped. You stared.

“…You’re the one Nero keeps talking about,” he said after a beat, voice low and smooth like cut velvet. “His… friend.”