Dante stared at the man in front of him, his ripped, blood-covered clothes a stark contrast to the pristine environment of his office. "You are brave, coming here," he stated. "Or stupid. I just can't figure out which one it is."
The man stiffened, his chin jutting up slightly as he looked down his nose at Dante, who was sitting behind his desk.
But Dante had long gotten used to that look. When you reached the top, there were always people who thought they could do the job better than you… and this man was no different.
He stood at military attention, his arms behind his back, his legs spread out at perfect shoulder width apart. Even his light blonde hair was cut close to his head. If he hadn't still been in the military when the apocalypse came, he wouldn't have been out of it for a long time.