The room smelt damp, and Fred felt like his mouth had turned sandpaper, so dry from thirst, it felt like he hadn't had a drink in days.He tried to speak, but the words didn't come.Pathetic.He couldn't move, his arms shackled to something. It felt ice cold on his wrist, and he could feel the cold seeping into his skin like a virus, shutting down his body system."That is to keep you from having any ideas," Alistair was framed in the bars of the cell, his pearly white teeth shining in the dim light of the cell."Don't bother to talk, you'd just progressively get weaker. I wouldn't mind that in the least. But, I wouldn't want you passing out on me." Fred could make out a figure close to Alistair, a figure dripping with blood. "This is your pet, eh, boy? Doesn't look like much," Fred could vaguely make out the shape of Saphrana, and he tugged at his chains but they didn't budge in the slightest."I wouldn't do that if I were you. Those are mana-restrictive chains. The more you fight,
Cincinnati was hungry. And doing her best to look out for Dante too. At first, she didn't see anything worth mentioning in him, his broodiness was starting to irk her. But she got to know him more and she could see that he was just someone who needed love.A lot of it.He didn't know because he acted self-sufficient, but she could see through the bullshit. He reminded her of Mark, the way he put on a brave front even when he knew nothing about what he was doing. She found it endearing, and maybe a little bit sad.That was the problem with people like Dante, they didn't know when to ask for help and when to be independent. She could see that he wasn't comfortable in his skin, and she didn't blame him, she once wasn't comfortable here. But things had changed, and now she was someone who could face the inevitability of a future and smile through it all.What Dante didn't know though, was that the world that'd been revealed to him was little compared to the truth. Gilgamesh wasn't the sec
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