[Espy]

Getting the wind knocked out of him for the fourth time that day, Dante lay, exhausted, face-up on the ground. Even with his 'sight' at the fullest strength it had been at for the past several days, he really didn't see much. While his muscles wouldn't listen to his brain, inside his mind, and argument was taking place between his emotions and his reasoning. He...he killed my brother! I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him! Wait, no, there's no time right now! Come on! we need to get moving! I don't care! He killed him, for heaven's sake! Well, do you want to die here?! I -- Oh, wait, tha...

"...t's a nice view," Dante muttered, as the red outline floated into view, his usual jesting self coming into play as his mischievousness defeated both voices.