"This is the one who they call Zero? He looks like I could break him in half. Hey, how far does your back bend before your spine shatters?" There were snickers as a big, beefy boy stepped in, a cruel expression on his face."You talk too much. Come at me." Zero was getting tired of playing with the inexperienced bunch. "Who's the loudmouth now?" The big boy got red in the face and sent a punch hurtling towards Zero. He didn't dodge; he just stood there and let it land. "Is this it? You couldn't even dodge that," the pretty boy snickered, and a blade materialised from his vinyl suit, a blade of plasma. It was a weapon that spelt death to whoever it touched, able to seat through skin and bone in a space of milliseconds. But Zero wasn't just anyone.He feinted to the side as the blade came crashing down on the insulated floor, sending a mini tremor down the floor."Look at that; he's got some moves," the pretty boy's eyes became slits, and Zero felt the sense of danger overcome him. H
Dante knew something was wrong even before everybody else did. It started with a trickle and then morphed into something else, something he couldn't decipher.This is bad. Very bad.But who cared? Nobody. "You have a stupid look on your face when you're losing; it's cute," Crystal had a glint in her eyes, and Dante had to force himself to look away."This isn't fair; you know that, right? I'm all out," he flipped his cards, which was a bad hand. Gilgamesh tried his best not to laugh, but he couldn't hold it in anymore."This isn't my fault!" Dante defended, even though he didn't have to."He's a sore loser, isn't he?" Cincinnati said, boredom leaking through her voice. He'd noticed that she'd become a little more tolerant of him lately, and he didn't want anything to ruin that. She always spoke to him dismissively, but deep inside, she did care. Somewhat. He couldn't tell about her. "Not only a sore loser, but he's also a lame one," Gilgamesh said good-naturedly. Dante had noticed t
"Be safe," and Dante's heart twisted in his chest. He knew she'd say the same to Gilgamesh or any of The Renegades. He wasn't unique; he didn't mean anything to her.And he needed to accept it."Let's go," he gestured to Gilgamesh, and Gilgamesh walked ahead of him, a picture of composure."There's something else about this place you need to know," Gilgamesh stated without preamble, but Dante was tempted to roll his eyes."There's always something about this place that isn't anything new," Dante snapped at Gilgamesh without intending to. But he wasn't sorry at all."What crawled up your ass? Well, it doesn't matter. This is more important than you know. The being of the night, void, or whatever you call it, there's a way to decipher its source." Dante looked at Gilgamesh to be sure his legs weren't being pulled."I'm listening," there was no trace of banter in his tone anymore, and Dante looked as resolute as he did the first day he found himself in The Graveyard."You're listening,
For a long time, Dante didn't know anything aside from fear. Hours after the night void had passed, he remained rooted in that position, his thoughts a hurdle to sift through.What is real? He had no answer to that; only the steady beating of his heart in his chest made him feel alive. Aside from that… nothing else. His new arms didn't make him feel anything but unreal, and not in a good way. Many things had happened to him, but he was steadily leaning towards the trepidation phase.But how could he live in fear when everything in his life was fear-made? "It's not always bad here," Cincinnati said, and he wondered when she joined him. Even though it was day, the mornings would never feel the same again, not after everything."You could have fooled me," Dante replied, a bitter laugh coming from his throat. It was a sound he didn't recognise; it felt alien to him and his experiences.This place is finally getting to me."When I first got here, I was despair-filled. I wanted to die, to
Dante let the words pour out unchecked. He didn't care if it got him kicked out; he still didn't feel like he was a part of a family, just playing the part of an outsider looking in. "See? Self-absorbed," Cincinnati was smiling, and Dante wasn't sure he'd ever seen her smile. "You didn't need to praise me so hard," Gilgamesh materialised before him, and so did Esme, Crystal, and Darkus. "What's going on?" Dante turned to Cincinnati, feeling betrayed for the first time. "You always hold back; you never say the things you wish. I went to The Graveyard and asked Alan for tips to get you to loosen up. He suggested making you think you were all alone with a pretty girl. That worked, surprisingly. Are you a pervert?" Dante would have taken Gilgamesh seriously if not for the smirk on his face. Oh, I am the one who pushed them away. "Darkus doesn't talk to you because he's painfully shy. He speaks only when spoken to, and you've never reached out to him, have you?" Crystal had a
Moriarty Wentworth knew the name of things. And he used them ruthlessly. He knew of how things worked and the true nature of their beings.His name wasn't a joke; he earned it, fighting tooth and nail to survive. He formed his first sigil when he crossed a threshold that he couldn't before. It started when he was a boy.Moriarty had always been a precocious child, obsessed with learning how things worked and how to bridge the gap between fact and fiction. He didn't believe in things like luck, fate, or destiny.They were all bogus concepts to him. He attended an academy of the gifted, but it didn't mean much. He was bored of their antics and how they strutted about like they owned the place. He was an aristocrat from Bellamy, a state in Velor. Unlike Selene, Bellamy was a place where only the strong survived. Of the ten states that made up Velor, three of them were a law unto themselves, and Selene stood at the precipice. Bellamy ranked second, but it was one of the least liked. In
"You are a Wentworth. Our enemies must not catch wind of this, lest they try to turn you against your real family." The powerfully built back was all Moriarty could stare at, his father never talked to him face to face, he never saw a reason to. And Moriarty had been the best at practically everything. But, there was no acknowledgement. In his father's words, "That much is expected from a Wentworth." And so, the first spark of the rebellion festered in his heart, and Moriarty knew that his father would never see him as more than a tool. And Moriarty just wanted his father to call him by name. After that, he started sneaking out in the night, setting fire to things. The flames spoke to him, they told him of a world he could rule. They told him he could change everything.He believed them.At first, he went alone. Setting fires to little things like pig pens, a patch of grass, etc. Bellamy still lived in an era of aristocracy, where merchants ruled the land. So, he set fires to bar
Raven knew something was amiss. She wasn't a big fan of nosiness, but The Order was being hush-hush as usual, and she needed action. For some reason, her mind was uneasy. Something was up, and either Alistair didn't know about it, or it was something he didn't want to tell her.She was Number 9 and part of the lowest echelons in The Executives. Honestly, she felt like the news usually got to her last. The one bright spot in her life was Moriarty, and he wasn't available. Then, there was Zero, her pet project. He was someone who made her laugh at various moments. He didn't even know that; he just lived, and she observed. But Moriarty was on another level entirely. He was a part of a different state, Bellamy, but she wasn't bothered because he was someone who had principles he stood by, no matter what. But the uneasiness didn't leave. It intensified.The feast laid out on her table didn't entice her; it didn't make her feel anything but pissed off. She wasn't in the mood for food, w