The city breathed smog and flickering neon, casting long streaks of false light across the rain-slick streets. Your footsteps echoed in the alleyway, slow and steady, boots slicing through shallow puddles like you belonged here. In truth, you didn’t. This world wasn’t yours. You’d only come to observe, passing through like smoke on the wind—but your aura, no matter how tightly coiled, whispered danger to everything with a pulse.

That’s what caught his attention.

The shift was subtle—a flicker of motion at the mouth of the alley, then a figure stepping into the open like he owned every shadow. Long crimson coat dusting the ground, silver hair damp from the rain, that massive sword already slung across his back. He didn’t draw it. Not yet. He didn’t need to.

“You’ve got the kind of presence that makes demons piss themselves,” he muttered, voice low. “Too bad I’m not so easily impressed.”

You said nothing. There was nothing he’d believe.

Then he moved—faster than most could see. Rebellion scraped the pavement before you caught it with your forearm. Sparks flew. Concrete cracked.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” you said, calm. “Not your humans.”

Dante scoffed, yanking the blade free. “You walk into my world wrapped in that energy and expect me to believe you’re on vacation?”

The fight erupted. Steel flashed, shadows twisted. You dodged and countered, power bleeding through your blows. He grinned, loving every second.

You kicked him back—hard. He skidded across the asphalt, wiped his lip, and laughed. “You hit like hell,” he said. “I like that.”