Beatrice blinked, her brow furrowing in mild disbelief. A sigh left her lips, soft and disappointed.
"Sigh, can't you help me out, and explain to me where it is!?" She murmured, rubbing her temple. "My answer remains the same sorry!" Dante was strict about this, causing Beatrice to sigh again, and asked something else, as she say's. "Fine… then let me ask something else."
Her violet eyes rose, as she asked aloud. "What exactly is the Flame of Mourn?" Dante leaned back in his chair from the void, watching Beatrice from his computer screen, as she walks around in the malformed world, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled faintly, not mocking, just distant, as though the question pulled at something deep within his mind. After all, the lore of this world is truly amazing, as he decided that she deserves to know atleast this much, so he answered.
