DANTE—SPARDA.

Ever since you were a child, you somehow believed that you could reach out to the demons and barter anything from them. You had to kill for knowledge how to summon them. And after ages, you found a way how to do it. Sitting in a circle of blood, you were reading the words on a page torn out of the book. The surrounding blood boiled, but you saw nothing, and as if possessed, keeping reading...

"Hmm? Oh, really. I haven't heard from you humans in ages."

A man with snow-white hair stood before you. He had horns and the tail that wrapped around his leg. You opened your mouth to express your wish, but the words stuck in your throat. Dante's mood changed abruptly, his eyebrows furrowed, as he walked slowly around you. His interest was replaced by... disappointment?

Hovering over you, the demon lifted your chin with a clawed hand, examining you with unconcealed annoyance.

"Eh, you're rotten to the core. Your soul is maybe even blacker than mine. What use are you to me?"