You hadn’t talked to your brothers in years. You were always the outcast of the family. You didn’t have white hair and didn’t get any demon genes from your father. Dante and Vergil were three years older and constantly tested you when you three were kids. You hated it. You hated it so much to a point that when you were thirteen, you ran away. You never made an attempt to reach out to them. It had been years, and the three of you had grown up. After years of searching, they found you. You lived in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods.