Chapter theme: Fate by Shiro Sagisu-https/youtu.be/8acjcrfTEo0

Terminology:

SDT: SUBTERRANEAN DEMON TRIBE, often used to describe sentient and non-aggressive demons.

USF: UNITED SUBTERRANEAN FRONT, the recognized sovereign citizens of the Ebott. Valley demon association.

NNH: New New Home, the town's name. The only city located in the USF.

Central: Central Government, central city, main human settlement where the Grand Senate is instated.

WG: World Government, The coalition of governments, cities and island states, headed the Grand Senate.

WM: World Military, the standing widespread military for the entire world bar a few states and countries.

OTS: Order Of The Sword, a religious faction mainly situated in the city of fortuna, radical Sparda worshippers.

Disclaimer: Certain aspects of this story are based on a loosely fictional and exaggerated version of reality, of what is possible, of what could be, of the relationships we see day to day, between people, nations, and anything in between, to understand this is to understand that there is no agenda… Make your own conclusions, what you think is right. This is my ode to humanity. Embrace the crazy.

I own nothing.

Sin Trigger.

"I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow."

Drizzle

"And I watered it in fears

Night and morning with my tears,

And I sunned it with smiles

And with soft deceitful wiles."

Drizzle drizzle

"And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright,

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine,--"

The rain beats down.

"And into my garden stole

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning, glad, I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree."

Clasp

The book shut, a burnt compendium of William Blake poetry. A single 'V' etched into the cover, he glanced down towards it with a wry gaze. "And so you bore an apple bright, will you take the apple for yourself? Or let it fester in the heart of man?" He asked the night, rain beating down against his scarred face.

He stood as a lone figure in this downpour, but not for long. "Humanity… They are led to their sin with empty promise after empty promise by those who wield strength." His violet and red eyes flash as he surveys over the bar, a dour albatross roosted just above his head.

Arkham leveled his gaze, putting the compendium away. "And so will you, young Sparda.

"So will you."

He watched from the outside looking in.

Inside the bar…

"Get on your knees, heathen bitch."

With one sentence, chaos broke loose.

"BIANCA!" Crono cried, his vocal cords cracking at the sight of a firearm pressed to his lover's back.

Taking a step forward, his eyes paint a different picture than his body. 'Please… Please just not her!'

Thick, rough fingers curl around her throat. "Ah! Don' be hasty now…"

Bianca was in shock, the faint feeling of metal jetting into her back… The threat; Crono's skin burned bright red.

"Titus!" He growled.

Titus eyed everyone hastily before eying him, raising his gun up and shoving it against her back roughly. "Don' move a damn muscle, I swear I'll blow her spine out right 'ere an now!" He barked, catching the yellow gaze of the former OTS member.

His fury settles, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Eh, been a while. I recognize that whiny voice from somewhere…" He raised the shotgun towards Crono, snorting.

Growling at the gun levied against him, sweat running down his brow. Crono's eyes burn, looking between the two knights of the order who are holding Bianca captive.

He clenched his fists.

"Let her go, Captain." He said with a sneer, demanding them. But the taller of the two knights, the older… He merely smirked at the former OTS.

He was bald and had a nasty burn scar over his left eye, a veteran knight who became the Captain of the entire force through trial and tribulation, through simply being indomitable against the demon menace.

He didn't think that he was a threat after Vergil dismantled him.

How wrong he was.

He glanced behind the veteran knight and clenched his fists, 'I let this happen, I should've paid more attention… I'm supposed to be the one protecting her!' Breathing heavily, Crono cursed underneath his breath.

Crono knew Mettaton was bulletproof… But there wasn't much he could do with her being held hostage… He could hear the robot clench his metallic fingers into a fist, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

'You lot showed up at the worst time…' He felt the tension behind him grow with every second, and the terror in front of him as well.

Tick

Tick

Tick

The only sound was the clock ticking as their glares darting from one to another, the armed knight refused to let up his glare. Shotgun trained directly onto his chest, Crono was helpless. The drawer in the hall behind them was emptied, so the shotgun was loaded…

'Dammit!' it was at a standstill, the only thing they can do is let them pass. Crono let his eyes survey to his left as he caught a movement, his breath quivering.

Mettaton stepped forward and challenged the hostage holder, "Where is the other girl? What did you do?" The man merely laughs with a scratchy inflection, his orange eyes burning with callous fury.

Rolling his shoulders, the armed man tilted his head. "She'll be jus fine, but I canno' say the same for yer pretty little lady here!" He chuckled.

Crono's face was burning red, fury etched like a magma river. "You won't touch a single hair on her head motherfucker!" He resisted the urge to leap at the man and choke him to death, his brain kept yelling at him to do so.

His glare was heavy, dangerous. "I'm not the same boy I was, and you're getting older aren't ya? Please, don't do anything stupid old man."

Because despite everything, he knew that Titus was a tough fucker. With every move he commanded power, commanded the attention of everyone in the bar with his strong features and deafening aura.

Crono knows the feeling well.

Recognition fills his orange eyes, Titus raises a brow. "That crass mouth of yours… Crono? The 'little shit Crono'?" He questions before guffawing, shaking his head. "It's been quite a bit hadn' it?"

Crono narrows his eyes even thinner. He recognized this man from the start. "Captain Titus the big bald bastard who crushes kids for fun, you think I give a shit who you are?"

He presses a thumb against his chest before pointing to him with a scalding glare. "The past doesn't matter to me, you fuckers stole my son!" Crono growls, his sneer and fury palpable.

Titus blinks, making an unimpressed gaze towards the former OTS member. "Yer the same as ever, pity."

"Despite everything you did…"

The two men faced off, unpleasant memories flooding between them. Captain Titus knew he was in control of the situation, Crono knew he knew that, that spark in his eyes when he punished out of line brats, when he was in control.

'Even now you're fucking with me…' He wanted to make him pay.

But… He not only had a hostage but he had the rest of them as a hostage as well, bar Mettaton.

The ticket here would be him, 'Not that I want to place my trust in a damn SDT.'

'If only Brother V wasn't a dumbass…' He began regretting not stopping him when he had the chance, was this all a part of his plan? To lure Vergil away to that bastard Andrei?

Crono caught eyes with Mettaton for a small moment, his artificial eyes conveying a message. 'Don't do anything rash.' He knows dammit, he knows!

Titus waves the shotgun over them all one by one, the barrel glided over them. "Now… Which one ye have a phone? Don't do anything foolish now." He directed his gaze to the yellow eyed vulgarian.

It wasn't Crono who'd do something rash however.


Slam!

A shoe bounced against the back of Nico's head snapping Bianca out of her shock, her green eyes narrowing while Nico slightly loosened his grip in a daze. Using her lithe body to slide down to the floor, Bianca slammed her elbow into the young man's crotch.

Nico screamed in pain and fell to the one knee, Bianca caught Ifalna's eyes for a split second as the young man fell down fully and saw that there was blood trickling down her nose, lighting a protective fire in the bar owner.

'That bastard!' He touched her sister! Marked her with a blow!

Her green eyes blaze into anger, a rare sight. "Fucker!" She let loose a rare curse, one she'll only speak when truly…

Pissed.

Bianca soared into the air and wrappes her arms around the thick neck of the captain, a rear naked choke. Reno watched her with a slight shock and a choked gasp filling his breath, his eyes narrowed, he stopped his charge and watched with curiosity.

Titus was annoyed. "Get off me ya little bitch!"

She squeezed as hard as possible in response, "You boys weren't the only ones who wanted to be a knight when we were younger!" The captain was off balance now and his aim was off put, Reno saw his chance!

Crono's best friend tore through the bar, his legs pumping and adrenaline flowing. "Wait, Reno don-"

BANG!

A red shell flew through the air, the barrel smoking as the pump action shotgun shot out of the captain's loose grip and crashed against the floor.

Lines of crimson red etched across the wood, a scream sounded out and Crono's face shadowed, his eyes trembling and with blood soaking his face. All he can hear is the ringing in his ear, the vulgarian can only see red, only smell copper.

Reno hit the ground, head first.


His teeth grind out a nasty sound as they gyrate back and forth, a burning steam releasing from his mouth, fuming into the air as his skin darkens slightly. The darkness of his entire feeling washing over him, his eyes wider than any should be.

"I'm going to kill you." A statement of fact.

The captain growled in response, using his freed hand to rip away his attacker before pressing forward and throwing her at Crono, he catches her with his arms and gently holds her close even despite himself, eying the captain as he grabs Nico and escapes down the hall.

His eyes didn't leave that spot for several minutes, nor did he blink. He listened as the sound of speech, muttered panic-stricken cries filled his senses and left his ears ringing further.

"What's the issue, Burgerpants? Why can't you heal him? Oh dear."

They aren't going to stop the bleeding.

"I-I-I can't heal humans as well boss! Their composition ain't like us demons, we're made of magic! I'm not as good as Blooke y'know."

Reno was going to die, it will be his fault, everything was his fault… Always his fault.

"I know that darling, but he won't survive at this rate! He's losing blood, you have to try harder!"

Crono snapped his gaze to Reno with a furious gaze, rushing over after letting Bianca down gently. "Dammit Reno, you fucking idiot!" He came up right next to the downed young man in question, blood seeping into the wood below as he struggled to breath.

'I was in shock, stop wasting time Wingbuster!' He thought while running his hand over Reno's forehead, he's getting colder.

His hand had been blown off, trails of flesh and sinew the only thing keeping his hand attached to the body. He was losing blood too quickly. Dammit!

Glancing towards the back rooms, Crono leapt over the counter and rushed to the back, brushing past Bianca who was helping Ifalna rejoin with the rest of the group… They shared eye contact for just a moment, he pushed himself further.

He needed to find bandages and disinfectant quickly, the painful screams of Reno still echoing in his ears, he searched top and down through the drawers with an urgent sweat.

His face was panicked, his teeth clattering. "Come on come on come on dammit where did she put them!" Every second wasted was a second Reno spent losing more blood, "Dammit!"

Finally after a prolonged search Crono finally found the square box with a white and red sword symbol, he tore the cupboard from its hinges and left with the first-aid kit. Nothing else mattered right now.

All he could do now was hope.

The bar was quiet, too quiet, just another night where they were forced to close shop for more than one reason… Ifalna wasn't humming her ephemeral tunes, too busy crying softly. Brandon wasn't complaining, and Bianca wasn't smiling… That one really pissed him off. And Reno? He's dead-still in a comatose state at the center of the bar, they'd cleared the surrounding area to create more room for him.

Afraid to move and jostle his injury, they let him rest with blood soaked bandages covering his entire arm.

'Reno…' He thought soberly, eying his best friend; the only other person who stayed by his side all these years.

The buckshot tore his arm apart, shot clean off with several penetrations littered across his appendage… Brandon used his fancy demon magic to help soothe the pain and speed up his healing process… But he said that humans were much harder to heal than demons.

Harder… Nice excuse.

All that was left is the enigma, Mettaton. The diva with an amicable following, a cult hit. An icon. Standing in his bar.

Crono mused to himself trying to understand the mechanoid, he was nothing like he expected on TV. The overly dramatic flare did little to paint his true picture, he was ruthless.

'Efficient…' Not a single wasted movement or panicked breath, a total concentration at all times. Mettaton was hardly phased.

It pissed him off as much as it impressed him.

Wasting no time contacting a dozen or so people Crono never heard of while issuing out demands and requests like a king. It made him sick but he didn't voice it.

But most of all, Mettaton was furious. Just like him, but the robot was robotic in the sense that he had absolute control over his emotions. It was almost admirable.

'But he's a fucking weirdo… None of this would've happened if these weirdos just stayed in their shitty little country…' He'd still be in the order, and his son wouldn't be kidnapped.

No point getting upset now.

He calls Brandon 'Burgerpants', which was ridiculous enough. Speaking of Brandon; the feline was sprawled over the table, licking his paws, "Aghhh, this suspense is killing me! Vergie has been gone for an hour now, and that damn storm ain't giving up!" He complained at last, causing Bianca to eye him distastefully.

Mettaton was more direct, "Simmer down darling! This is no time to complain, Vergil, as rash as he is… He can handle himself." He spoke with an almost aristocratic tongue. it rubbed him the wrong way, like the bastard was trying to flex his superiority.

That's what Crono thought as he surveyed the idol.

They locked eyes for a moment, Mettaton sensed the challenge. "Oh? Do you find my gorgeous face alluring? I'm charmed~" The robot spoke with sultriness and pokes his tongue out suggestively causing Crono to recoil in disgust.

His face turned green, "I feel like I'm going to puke." He said without a swear, deciding to ignore the robotic SDT for now…

Sighing after reigning in on his disgust, Crono stares at the ceiling. 'It's just another storm we're gonna have to wait out, this is our sanctuary…'

Only he can't stifle the crippling fear he feels, knowing that the two prisoners had gotten away. That kid Nico, and the Captain… He was more worried about the latter. But eventually as the night progressed more and more, Crono couldn't remain fully cognizant.

Even through the worries of his best friend, the heartache of his lover, the stress he faced every day since… Since Vergil arrived here.

It was starting to get to him, and he couldn't fight against the exhaustion anymore. With one final glance making sure Bianca was safe, and that Reno was still breathing… Crono fell to his slumber.

Dreams of innocence.


Mettaton sighed and inspected his face in the window, rain droplets falling down and blurring his clear reflection. "Burgerpants?" He said, not looking up.

His 'employee' shook his head and put away his phone, "Yeah boss?" His phone vibrated again, but he didn't check it.

"This situation is quickly getting out of hand. I fear Vergil may have failed."

Brandon strained to smile, forcibly curling his feline mouth into a grin. "Oh don't say that boss! Our little buddy is the strongest, like you said." Mettaton shook his head in response.

He continued to stare outside, surveying the world as thunder beats down. "Sometimes strength isn't enough, I've learned not to underestimate humans in my time traveling this world." He sighed, shaking his head.

Leaning back in his chair and propping his head up, "So many glamorous places and beautiful darlings to meet, but the hatred for our kind is growing. Not glamorous whatsoever." The robot deflated unnaturally, if one were to look at him they wouldn't see the glamorous super star with many layers protecting his otherworldly design from vision.

Brandon crossed his arms, frowning with a whine. "I guess it can't be helped, ever since the seal weakened… The seven hells have made a mess of this world eh, it's not our fault though."

"I was supposed to help them…"

He recalled the past, a faint promise he made for himself. "I said I wanted to be a star for humanity, but no matter how much influence I have there will always be humans who can't let up with their hate…"

Brandon tsked and grumbled at that.

His eyes light up, "What if they're just scared? Hell I know I am, any human with enough killing intent can kill me with a glove!" Mettaton sighed at the very cruel reality of it all.

Pinching his nose, "That's exactly why, Burgerpants. That's why we MUST maintain peace, because even Asgore could be felled by enough killing intent…" The magic physicality of subterranean demons was their only biological, unlike humans and stronger demons… They could be killed much easier.

Burgerpants decided to let his act drop, he had to resist the urge to light a cigarette. "Yeah… I know, I'm just tryna play the role. What I really think is simple, don't keep your expectations high." The sagely advice coming from his sudden shift in demeanor shocked Mettaton, but he didn't comment on it.

Continuing his inner thoughts, Mettaton frowned. "If we could only secure allies in Fortuna, the USF would be much better off for it. Central isn't so glamorous, less efficient, dull bureaucracy." Mettaton said with a disgusted inflection. "Yet they vie for control over every little thing, to intervene… Fortuna is one of the few places they won't."

"Because of the order."

Mettaton shook his head, "Because of Royai, as much as the man grinds my gears I must admit he is an unrivaled mind… WG could not go against him, not now." Mettaton whistled and pictures all the data he had on the man, he certainly couldn't fault his motivation and principle… But anyone who had a hand in harming Blooke would pay dearly for the sin.

The wood beneath his fingertips began to crack and the very thought, "But a darling he is not, Royai has crossed the line."

Brandon nodded sourly, crossing his arms and hugging himself. "But if Verg failed, we really are screwed huh?" Mettaton glared at him but otherwise said nothing.

The feline demon inspected a claw, worried about his own strength. "I mean next thing you know Andrei is knocking at our door with guns, what the hell do we do then?"

"Boss?"

Mettaton stood up suddenly, a realization forming across his artificial visage.

'We are not safe here…'

"You're right." He whispered before turning to the rest of the occupants, "Darlings!"

His eyes flashed as Ifalna and Bianca turned their attention to him, "I have a rather poor revelation to give you beauties but I'm afraid this place is no longer safe."

Crono was dozing off in a chair nearby so Bianca faced Mettaton. "What are you talking about? This is the only safe place we have." She said with a curious gaze to match Mettaton's urgency.

"Not quite, those two uglies escaped, didn't they?" Bianca opened her mouth to interject but held her tongue, flushing.

She scratched the back of her head, "I've been in the order my entire life and I doubt they'd do anythin-"

Mettaton scoffed, "Like kidnap your son? Really Bianca my dear? Don't be so naive."

The green eyed woman growled, "Naive? What the heck do you know?" She then gestured to Brandon. "As a matter of fact, where have you been this whole time huh? How do you know Brannie?"

Mettaton placed a hand over his chest compartment, shutting his eyes. "Doing what I do best darling, appealing to the masses and starring in my show."

He then pats the feline demon on his head, "Burgerpants is my most PRIZED employee you know. And I'm the one who funds RISE, or at least… Until tonight happened." RISE was effectively defunct without its main members.

Bianca was still defensive… But her eyes bled compassion. "Yeah, it's been a rough month for all of us." Mettaton himself felt his soul beat with compassion as well.

He placed a cold hand on her shoulder, "Listen to me dear, I've been all around the world and let me just say power… Power corrupts, and you never know when that power will be turned towards you until it has."

'Especially when those unglamorous Order pions don't get their way…'

Ifalna places a hand on her other shoulder, interjecting. "He's right Bia, the Order… The Order has changed. Even Mother Diana said so." Bianca sighed and expressed her discontent.

"Not you too?" Ifalna shrugged, two clots in her nostrils. The bar owner then shook her head and stared down, "Hmm. I guess you're both right but…." But then she looked towards Reno.

She eyes them both questioningly, "But where would we go? And how would we get Reno there?" Mettaton clasped her by the hands and smiled warmly, assuaging her worries.

"Oh I have just the idea!" Bianca was slightly off put by his sing-song voice.

The mechanoid turned to Brandon and raised his hand, "Oh Burgerpants! Be a dear and call Mad for me!" The feline grumbled in response before relenting under the glare of two burning robotic eyes, grumbling about slave labour.

Bianca can only raise a, brow, "That's a unique… Name?" Mettaton gazed at his fingernails with sarcasm dripping from his words.

Mettaton laughed, "Oh, we tell her often."


Brandon sighed as the bar finally got quiet, things were calming down finally. The quiet was… Nice. But the looking threat of the escapees, it made him worry. And regret…

He huffed, leaning back in his seat. "This was all my fault huh? Typical." If he hadn't taken his eyes off Blooke, none of this would've happened, Vergil… Vergil would still be here.

Mettaton scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't pretend like you're the only one to blame… I'll admit, I didn't think it was going to get bad this quickly… I thought I had more time, more time to truly reach the people of Fortuna." He lamented, propping himself up against the table.

Lamenting and groaning. "But my music, it's not what they need… Dear me, they are far too motivated as it is! Self determination is abundant, so my works don't quite appeal to them… To what they lack." Mettaton explained, glancing towards Reno who was laying on the floor.

His eyes were worried, "My music is meant to inspire, to pump up, but that's not what Fortuna needs right now…" Brandon places a fuzzy hand on his boss's shoulder, smiling up at him cheekily.

He smiled that shit eating grin of his, "Well, if all goes to shit, you can always use me as a body shield." The joke was made, yet no laughter came from Mettaton.

He sighed and pulled the smaller demon Into a side hug, "You know I could never do that to you, we've known each other far too long my dear." Brandon was too stunned to speak. "I'm hard because leaders must be hard, I want the best for you, for all of demon and humankind…"

Close to the only boss he's ever known, Brandon for the first time in his life… Felt wanted. Yet still, he couldn't shake his sixth sense, a feline's tell of something that was coming… Something that would shake the very foundations of this city, and the world.

And when he looked outside, he swears he saw a tall slender man with two different colored eyes staring back at him. A hint of deja vu running beneath his fur.

He gulped, the warmth of Mettaton's cold body leaving him.