Dante walked alongside Akira, the silence between them broken only by the sound of their boots against the arid, cracked ground of Hell. The heat was suffocating, even for someone like him, and the air vibrated with an oppressive energy. Despite this, Akira seemed unbothered, her posture straight and her eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Are you sure we're heading in the right direction?" Dante asked, frowning as he glanced around. Everything looked the same — the same desolate landscape, the same endless blood-red sky.
"Yes," Akira replied simply, without looking away. "The heart of Hell isn't something you just see. It reveals itself when you're worthy of reaching it."
Dante rolled his eyes. "Worthy, huh? And how much farther do we need to walk to prove that? We've been going for hours."
Akira let out a low chuckle. "As impatient as ever, Dante. You think you can conquer everything through brute force. Not everything works that way."