They needed each other and the sooner they realised it, the better for everyone involved. It didn't seem that way though, especially since Crystal was meant to be pissed off at Dante for killing her half-sister. But what Dante needed to learn, Crystal had already perfected. The ability to pick her fights with clarity and avoid senseless mistakes that would jeopardize the lives of others.Dante was young and needed to be guided. She felt like she was watching Mark all over again, and he was giving her a second chance. Darkus was… complex. He played both sides, and she didn't know if it was because Crystal ordered him to, or because he wanted to.A lot of things were going on, and she wished she had someone to talk about these things with. Dante was bashful and acted unsure of himself, and she wanted to pat his head and tell him everything was fine but she didn't know how he'd take it. He acted like he was sure of himself, even though his inner child was confused and scared, trying to
Moriarty’s mouth tasted like ash. The world below him was revved up for the morning, their bodies swinging like pendulums to the tune of the new day.But, they were all going to die.At first, he had qualms about it, but thinking deeply, he became able to use more sigils when his mind dissociated from his emotions and let him create havoc without hassles."Funny, they act like they are gods. Walking about without a care in the world," Luka, his vice commander, stated, and Moriarty mirrored the sentiments. "You can't blame them, they don't know what war is," he replied, eyes forward. There were just two other people with him, but those two were enough."I feel guilty for wanting to kill them," Asher, his subordinate and one of the most ruthless women he'd ever seen, spoke. "Zip it, Ash," Luka chided, all good-natured. They always had a banter going on and Moriarty suspected they were going out, but he had no proof. "Okay, let's turn this place into a playground," Moriarty raised his
"That was dangerous. If he sensed you, you'd have died," Number 4 chided Number who just shrugged. She bent the burglary bars and grabbed the boy inside. Then she knocked him out with a well aimed hand chop. That was the only way she could reach him, and that was the only way she could stop the disaster that was coming for them.Number 9 looked up to see Moriarty, but ignored him. That wasn't the time for it. In that young boy, an ancient being slept. And it was being roused from its slumber by the extreme emotions the boy showed. It was one of the most dangerous situations she'd ever seen."Is he fine?" Number 4 asked and she nodded in affirmation. Number 4 wasn't part of The Executives of The Order. But she was pretty handy to have around. Her sigil was Precognition/Foresight and in her words, everybody was going to die if that boy was left unchecked. "Still can't believe a small child like this could be the problem of the world," Number 9 admitted and 4 just shrugged. Her sigil
The night sky was starless as Dante Stormborn walked in the dirtiest part of the city, his eyes glued on the alleyway in front of him.“Just a little closer,” he muttered through gritted teeth, the reinforced gloves he wore already showing signs of wear and tear.“I have to get another one then,” he sighs. He dragged the sealed bag behind him, amidst stares from the locals. He was a regular, nobody would dare disturb him. And even if they did, he didn’t have much to live for anyway, and they knew it.“Be still!” He screamed, poking at the bag with a bayonet. Pained shrieks emerged from the wiggling bag. He tossed it to the side once he got into the alleyway, where the light couldn’t meet him. It landed in a dull thud.“I had to do this,” he says more to himself than to anyone else. Dante has always been a lone wolf, and surviving in the City of Selene is nothing short of a miracle. The advancement of humans have shown him that he didn’t belong there. He didn’t even have the basic nece
The cloaked figure stood a short way from Dante, hand outstretched.“How do I make more money?” Dante asked, his eyes taking in his surroundings. It’s a short way from where he lived, and yet everything felt so different, and smelt that way too. There was an air of tension, one that could be cut like a string.The smelliness of the surroundings seemed muted, for some reason. It was even better than the place Dante lived.“All you need to do is… let go.” The cloaked figure said, his voice coming out in a rasped tone. Dante didn’t like what it suggested, what it meant in the long run.“Opium?” He asked, eyes narrowing slightly. The effects of opium could be seen, felt or even heard. It was the one thing he steered clear of, no matter the circumstances.Opium makes people mad.“No. Not that. And the one you’re exposed to is low quality anyway.” The cloaked figure said, and his words came out as a sneer. Dante didn’t mind though, he was used to being looked down on, as long as it ensured
The whirring sound didn’t stop. Not like Dante expected it to, it was a sound he’d come to associate with despair. And it was a sound perfected by one person alone . He had many names, although Dante Danteantly refused to call him anything but Wicked. That was the name of the streets, the name Dante grew up to fear.“Quite a stint you’ve gotten yourself into, eh?” Wicked said, and Dante could envision his face, and the devilish smile that curved like death’s scythe. Dante didn’t need to see it to visualize it, it was the smile that gave him the nickname.“What are you doing here?” It took all of Dante’s willpower to not flare at his once guardian. The man who everybody hated, and feared. He was about 35 years old, with a body crisscrossed with scars. The only place left untouched was his face. The face Wicked immaculately groomed.“You’ve gotten into a fix, I see. I’ll fix you right up.” Wicked placed a saw on Dante’s arm, and the droning of the chainsaw drowned Dante’s screamed, his
They called it The Graveyard. A place for discarded junk. Dante couldn’t tell what it was that he had to do. It was a pretty rundown place at the end of well, everything. Dante couldn’t recognize the sight, there was nothing to suggest that it was a place normal people knew about.“What is this place?” He said aloud without realizing it. Alan hobbled closer to him, his eyes showing a pained expression.“We don’t know. So many of us have died, more than you know. Survival here, it’s harder than it looks. Don’t worry, you’ll see for yourself,” Alan ended his statement vaguely and Dante wondered what that was about. The boy with a mop of brown hair huddled forward, and Dante took the time to inspect himself. He looked.. different. First, his body didn’t always respond whenever he tried to do something. His legs felt heavier and looking down, he could understand why. The latter part of his body had been sawed in half from his thighs downward and replaced with a mechanical contraption of
The rules are simple; but not simple enough. Dante wondered if there was something he was missing. Life with Alan wasn’t as bad as Dante thought at first, especially when you didn’t think of the fact that you’re practically existing nowhere, just living for the hell of it.“How did you get here?” Dante asked Alan, who looked a little better than the week before. Dante still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he’d been in The Graveyard for a week, it felt like an eternity. Also, time flowed differently there, he could tell. And so, he used the pocket watch he somehow came with to tell the time. It was a handy device to have.“I don’t know. I was offered gold and well, I took it. Isn’t that the same with you?” Alan spoke, his tone devoid of emotion. It was the same way he spoke when Dante did a little burial for Liz, Alan showed no sign of being in the moment. He didn’t care, and it was evident in everything he said or did.“But that can’t be all, can it? We are thrown here on