Before it was the 'Akashic Records', it had just been a 'Dream'.
They didn't know when they had managed to first slip into it.
Maybe even so far back as a newborn, new to their flesh and still unaware of the borders between, just wanting to know.
The what of life.
Viper was lucky that it had not, actually, been a question they had asked when they still had yet to know better than to ask the questions in the Dreams, probably having been more preoccupied like questions of 'how to satiate the hunger' or anything else along the same lines.
They imagined a query like that only had an answer that would've drove them into insanity, if not shock induced death.
(Or maybe they had asked that, only they had forgotten.)
Nevertheless, they were lucky that they hadn't gone too deep into the Dreams when they were still an infant.
(Or maybe they had, simply that it had been easier to pull themself back into the physical plane, somehow.
Viper had nightmares.)
For the longest of time, all Viper knew was that they never asked questions. Why would they? They already knew the answer.
The line between their mind and the universal data base had been indistinct.
Everything in the present had been within arm's reach, and if they exerted themself, bent into shapes, they learned they could even retrieve the past.
They had been a creepy kid.
(A messed up kid.)
Literally too knowing but too innocent to know what that meant.
And then -unluckily, unfortunately, horribly, regrettably- they manifested their Flames.
Oh, what a dangerous, dangerous kid.
Viper knew too much.
And for the first time, Viper could show, could bring to life, the answers.
People could die of fear.
People could die of desire.
People's minds were so fragile, and their emotions too strong.
And Viper was... too innocent.
Didn't know enough.
(They knew why clouds formed, knew why the sky was blue, had the image of a lamprey pressed into their mind -damned almanac-, knew why there were leap years, knew what were black holes, knew what made thunder and what made the wind blow, knew why everything was exactly the colour they were, knew too much but not enough.
Not. The. Right. Questions.
They didn't quite know, didn't understand, how or why everyone else couldn't know the same things they did.)
The first time they consciously used their Flames -Mist Flames, Life force, Dying Will Flames, the Dreams said creation, construction, beauty and terror- was also the time they learned and understood enough to hate knowing.
Hated it.
Viper once had an older brother.
A family that didn't quite know what to do with their youngest but all the same had wanted them and resolved to love them.
Viper once hated themselves so much it burned.
Had hated themselves enough that they would've devoured themselves.
Still hated themself that they eventually learned to fear themselves.
Viper had complete command of their Flames, it could not do what they didn't want to.
Sometimes, their thoughts drive them enough to cower in the corner of a room, watching the shadows, just waiting for indigo to strike.
(Viper was lucky. So, so lucky.
They couldn't be the only ones to have been able to slip like this, surely. And oh how treacherous just having this ability was.
The mind was such a brilliant, brittle technology. A million different ways they could've died, they could die.
A million different ways others probably have died, they wondered if they had managed to last the longest, by a stroke of luck that they had understood to fear the Dreams.
If they had just asked the wrong question, searched deep enough for an answer that coming back was no longer viable.)
XxXxXx
Conrad had gentled the blizzard in them, just long enough for them to realize and see that they were walking a bit sideways, five feet deep in the snow.
It resumed, quickly enough (Viper couldn't afford to get used to it, to want it), but the knowledge was already with them.
Viper had always been aware that they weren't quite... sane.
(Not insane, they didn't think they were to that point yet... right? Right. Past/alternate was becoming more and more of an indispensable voice.)
But it was with their Recollection, that they had been ruffled enough to decide that they actually had to do something about it. Wanted to do something about it.
(They felt like they owed it, somehow, to that other self who'd been in a much better place than they had ever managed. It had come so easy to them and Viper supposed there was a competitive part to it too.)
Past/alternate once read that talking about yourself in a third person helped distance you from yourself to see things in a more objective manner. This was something like that.
First though, they had to settle some things.
They travelled back to Italy to get paid by Angelo who had seemed more surprised than they felt it warranted to see them alive.
After depositing the blueprints, they swung by Gabriel.
Viper appeared in the hotel room, pulling their cloak closer to them. It was identical to their usual winter cloak, only lined with fur in the inside.
"Gabriel."
"Fuck!"
He fell off the bed, almost bringing with him the brunette that had been under him. The other man stared at Viper wide eyed, disheveled.
"How-?"
"Viper!" Gabriel cleared his throat, ears red as he climbed back on the bed, pulling the covers over them and trying to maintain some sort of dignity. "Can't you knock?"
"If I knocked and you opened it, then I'd have to applaud your father for raising you to be easy to kill." Viper snarked out of habit. "Here."
A barbed wire emerged from their cloak and tossed him the folder. Catching it, he read it over while snaking a hand around his lover's waist.
Viper glanced him over and concluded that he was a civilian.
... it wasn't their place to tell Gabriel what and what not to do.
They watched him process the information.
All the scraps they could find ultimately had amounted to Adolf Hitler being intent on revealing the Flame community to the world at large, to make it a normality and a natural part of society.
Truthfully, Viper tried particularly hard to see something that could imply anything even remotely evil.
But no. They were disturbed to find that the man had a detailed step by step plan of how to peacefully achieve that (peaceful outside the Mafia and for an operation this big, because there would never be anything peaceful when it came to the Mafia and Viper couldn't do anything else about that, but it clearly implied that collateral were meant to be kept at a minimum and obstructions were to be 'dealt with in a precise manner').
For real.
They had even deliberated if maybe he'd set that up purposefully for them, the Delta island intruder, to find. But then they had given up and just taken a dip -it bothered them so much they couldn't sleep, and they swore to themself it would be the last one for a year if they could help it- to confirm the authenticity.
That was definitely his plan. No hints of a genocide whatsoever.
Viper then finally decided to set it aside despite the niggling feelings. They didn't have any Vongola intuition, they were simply paranoid because of the Recollection.
After all, they had a life of their own too, their own problems, and they couldn't obsess over him.
It's best to start their resolution as soon as possible.
"So... It's like this..."
"Alright. Where's the money?" They demanded.
"Oh, it's in the pocket inside my suit- yeah, that."
"Great. I'm off."
Viper didn't wait for any goodbyes, blowing past them and taking the door out this time, closing it behind them as if to close a chapter in their life.
They paused in the corridor, steeling themselves for their following operation.
It was a personal mission this time.
Viper had reflected that they probably wouldn't be taking any jobs for months. That was alright, they had the budget for that.
"That person..."
Their ears instinctively perked up.
"Viper?"
"Are all your people as creepy as them?"
"Viper isn't one of my people. They're freelance. And creepy?... well, they might seem like it at first, but they're a sweet kid."
They made an aborted motion to turn in surprise.
"Wait, kid?"
"It isn't obvious, huh?"
After a beat Viper tugged at their hood and walked away.
They might've underestimated Gabriel. Just a bit.