Dante had never been scared of the rain, but this time… something was very wrong. The wind still felt normal, but it was slowly picking up speed, blinding him from the rest of The Renegades. "What to do?" He said to himself, already realising the sort of pickle he was in. The wind turned into a typhoon out of nowhere, its form irregular and humanoid for some reason. What's wrong with everything here? Dante couldn't tell. The pocket world didn't mirror the real world; it was trying to eat him alive and make a grand show. "I'd be damned if I die to something like this," Dante raged at the typhoon, his will ironclad. "S, are you there?" He asked, flexing his arms. "Yes. What can I help you with?" The hologram's voice came almost immediately, but it had a hint of… sassiness. Could the holograms truly become sentient? "No time for that now," Dante screamed and slapped himself to get his bearings. It stung, but it did the trick and helped him focus. "Is there a way to surv
Dante tuned it out, and as the dome over him fell off, his palm touched Crystal's, and she yanked him inside the cave. Darkus and Gilgamesh rolled a giant boulder over it, sealing them in. "What was that? Do you have a death wish?" Crystal's eyes looked panicked and as she hit his chest with her fist, he noticed that her body was shaking uncontrollably. "I'm sorry. I didn't know…" Dante trailed off because his excuse sounded bogus even to his ears. He didn't plan to make a big deal out of it, but he didn't expect such a thing to happen. His life flashed before his eyes on various occasions, and it felt… exhilarating. What are you, a battle junkie? "You survived. That counts for something," Cincinnati said and walked past him, returning to the rock where she was seated earlier. Darkus nodded at Dante just once and didn't look at him again. It felt like being acknowledged by a higher power. Before, Darkus didn't even show regard for Dante's existence, and now… he got a nod of
The threat of a civil war was enough to get everybody on the run, and the news of the factions being formed did nothing to assuage the growing feeling of unease circling through the country. But some people were looking forward to the mayhem and madness."The meeting will begin," Alistair said, his voice lulling the members of The Order into silence."Now, tell us what the king asked of you, Fred," Alistair called a random name, and a young man walked in, along with a Direhuman who seemed to be his companion."What's this? Are we fraternising with those below us now? Is this the level we've fallen to?" A smallish man with an abnormally long beard spoke up, his eyes sizing up the new faces. "Hold your peace, and wait for him to finish," Alistair chided, his eyes brokering no room for argument. He was a scary man whenever he wanted to be."Hmph," the smallish man said at last and sat down without a word, still fuming. He was casting death glares at Fred and his attendant. "Now, tell
"This is the Purge; that none be left alive, and that I carry the will of the gods." As soon as he said that, the room descended into pandemonium, but Fred didn't care; he brought out his mana-enhanced weapon, a wicked-looking sword with deadly precision. It earned him one too many titles. But this wasn't the time for reminiscing. Fred slashed, his strike meeting the empty air. The members of The Order were staring daggers at him, none of them remotely hurt."Ah, so this is the demonstration you meant. It falls a little short, a lacklustre performance." Fred didn't need to be told that he'd been had, but he was the hand of the king for a reason. He couldn't falter even when faced with immense danger."How did you find out?""Did you think we were stupid? You walked into a well-armed base and caused a nuisance. But now we know that the president deserves to die. And so do you, for your little stunt. But? I'll play with you later. I want to see how far you bend before you break." Ali
Zero hated the smell of mouldy bread, and it didn't help that he had to be undercover, either. The Order used him for their dirty jobs, and on some days, he wanted to bash his head against the wall until he drew blood. But on days like this, he didn't have the luxury to feel sorry for himself, not when he had a lot riding on him. In Alistair's words, "Do not be found out, and return when it's done," which wasn't vague in any way.And, of course, I have to be the one to do it."Now, now, boy. Remember, do not be seen," Alistair said as a parting word, and he noticed the backdrop of the office; something lingered. Or was it… someone? "You won't let me down, will you?" Alistair rarely asked such questions, and whenever he did, the consequences were usually dire. "I won't," Zero said, left the office, his mind reeling. There was another aspect to the executive named Alistair, one that few people rarely got to see.And when Zero stared into his eyes, many things became abundantly clear;
How was he supposed to take them out? What exactly did they do to deserve such a harsh verdict?Zero was lost in thought and declined to be driven home, promising to arrive early the next day to continue his internship. His actions weren't clear to him, but he couldn't bring himself to end their lives. However, if he didn't do it, someone else was going to. And the person would not be as kind. Especially if it was one of the Enforcers, they were monsters with no qualms about taking lives, even if it meant burning a district to the ground. They did whatever they were asked to, and their clean-up crew handled the rest.He didn't want to drive home, so he took a longer route and left with his thoughts. He wasn't scared of being jumped; there was no reason for anyone to jump him. And even if there was, he could hold his own in a fight. Maybe not to the mastery level, but few desperados became martial arts masters."Down in the dumps, I see," Zero turned towards the direction the voice ca
Dante Stormborn was hungry. Scratch that, he wasn't. He was confused, as most people are wont to be. The pocket world, that's how he'd come to know it. But did it have a name? Was it sentient? There was a lot he didn't know and a lot more he needed to learn. But who'd teach him? Cincinnati had warmed up to him a little, Darkus still refused to care about his existence, and Gilgamesh was a bastard as always.He was basking in the sunlight, unable to believe such a beautiful day could turn into an unforgiving nightmare in a flash. He needed to understand the world, but he didn't even understand his body. It was pathetic."You look like someone threw up in your coffee," Crystal observed, taking a sip of what seemed to be poorly made tea."That looks like it'd kill you before this world does," Dante shrugged and returned to his watch. "I don't mind; it tastes like depression, though," she made a face, one that Dante had never associated with her at all."What are you doing here, anyway?
"What does it mean to be good?" The question she didn't voice, the one she was scared of finding a response to. Because deep down, she knew;She was a hypocrite.~~Cincinnati notched her arrow, letting it fly free as it whizzed into the distance and lodged itself in the branch of a tree before flying past it. "Shit," she cursed as her companion took its original shape, that of her childhood friend."You seem to be struggling. Do you need help?" He asked, but she shook her head. She missed the smell of trees and the feel of grass beneath her feet. The landscape of the mikrós kósmos annoyed her to no end. "I could have done it, I swear," she ranted, but the hologram just stared at her, not moving to help alleviate her worries."This isn't real; none of it is." She went on her knees, overcome by the despair that's begun to take root in her psyche. The scenery she created fizzled in and out of existence, the barren landscape making a showing of itself once more "There's no way out, i