Dante stops in front of a cereal shelf, crossing his arms as he surveys the absurd amount of options, he frowns at the over-the-top names: “Chocolate Blast,” “Mega Energy Oatmeal,” “Sugar Stars.”

Dante: “This all sounds like a marketing ploy.”

Dante mutters, grabbing a random box and turning it over in his hands, without giving it much thought, he drops it into the basket and keeps moving.

As he passes the cleaning supplies aisle, something catches his eye: a sleek-looking red broom. Dante picks it up, turns it over in his hand as if assessing its combat weight, and grins.

Dante: “Could be an improvised weapon.”

Dante jokes under his breath, making a couple of motions as if he’s in the middle of a fight. A passing employee looks at him curiously, but Dante simply puts the broom back and continues on his way, as if nothing happened.