"Where d'you think you’re off to now, huh?" He matches Vergil’s stride, keeping just a step behind. "You’ve barely been back two minutes, and you’re already ghosting your own flesh and blood." A smirk dances on his lips—definitely taunting, looking to rattle him a bit, eager to elicit a reaction, a spark that fueled their brotherly bond
❝ Stop pretending that you care about me. ❞ @vergili
"Aw, c’mon, Vergil! What, you expected me to break into a heartfelt speech? We’ve both been too busy with our own battles to hug it out. But hey, it’s not like I’ve forgotten about you. I mean, I’ve been around, even if you’ve been MIA for years. Just don’t expect me to get all mushy about it—Can’t get all sentimental when we've got so many hellspawn to take down!"
As he speaks, Dante keeps pace with Vergil, his casual strides a stark contrast to his brother’s focused intensity. His tousled white hair bounces slightly with each stride, and his signature red coat flares out behind him like a banner of defiance. Even while he tries to maintain a lighthearted banter, there’s a flicker of concern in his azure eyes—an unspoken understanding of the years lost between them. He knows he can’t just brush off the past, but for now, he’s determined to keep the mood from getting too heavy.
