DmC 2: The Awakening

by Greg-sterLordErotico

REBOOT SEQUEL A few days after Mundus' downfall, Dante and Kat are summoned by Commissioner Morrison, regarding powerful demonic activity on the mountainous province of Wolfhaven, where it so happens where the twins' old manor stands to this day. As they hunt down for the horrific horde responsible for a massacre, they unearth new secrets that could change the game.

5. Chapter Four: Duties

03/2020: Hey, if you're starting at this chapter, we have a personal message for our readers posted at the Prologue. If you want to go ahead, you can, however.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay. I also hit a kind of writing block because it ended up as a monstrous chapter, originally 20,000+ words long and I feel this kind of monstrosity won't be the last. But we managed to whittle them down and the next chapters will be uploaded in just a few days. If there are any typos, I'll prolly correct it, lol. We're also switching to a different style of writing and a new character perspective, to shake things up and expand on this headcanon fantasy/lore in the future.

Lastly, we hope Summer and Spook Season 2019 was kind to you, and if not, we sympathize. Thank you for those who read this reboot fan-sequel [WITH or WITHOUT any malice towards it ;D ] and I'm thanking you in advance because, I think, we'll go on hiatus after Chapter 7 or 8. Life happens you know...

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Chapter Four: Duties

A hopeful soul remains in an old castle.

The two hunters discuss matters with the prophet and the spy.

RochenmoreLake, Wolfhaven

A twilight; four days after Mundus' Downfall

"Quickly!" She urged them in a hissed tone, putting one finger on her lips to gesture silence, while her other fingers pushed the children towards their last refuge: the large historical area of Mallet Castle, a preserved, tourist spot. She counted over 90 children—ages five to seventeen years of age—from Rochenmore's Preschool section and the Primary to Secondary Educational School, running inside, with the smallest ones being attended first. There were only four adults, not including her at counting—three school staff, one of which was the driver—and they are the only ones who these children will be relying on until help arrives.

If help arrives…

She managed to hide them all with her Cloaking skill—a remnant of her 'true' self—despite their powerful sensing abilities, but it's only a matter of time before those things locate them and for the rest of them to survive with less food and supplies. The large bus they rode in had been parked in the employee's underground parking, away from the more open park area for tourists, but still, she had imbued it with her power to hide the vehicle.

But she knew she's only delaying the inevitable.

Time passes without an incident so far, as the dark morning of this demon infestation became the fourth day; Rochenmore looks silent, but appearances can be deceiving. Her adult peers were sceptical about hiding in an old castle, rumoured to be haunted by Wolfhaven's ancestors (and it is, if she was being honest), slightly musty and over-perfumed by room spray and other sterilizing agents, and just overall not really the place in mind when thinking about survival. But as hunger came and their injuries needed tending, those superstitious thoughts soon concentrated on raiding the castle for supplies and for creating a temporary shelter; all human imaginings of ghosts have disappeared as the real threat of demonic entities are roaming around their suburban town…

...looking for them.

She had not slept, mostly because of her voluntary attitude of staying up late to watch over them and ensuring her senses aren't remiss by drowsiness. It would be fatal if she fell asleep.

It was a good thing the phone lines still work and a battery radio helped them to know of any details of Wolfhaven's evacuation efforts; still, the new Veil these demons are creating are interfering with the signals and the last contact they've made was from a batch of emergency personnel, hopefully from Angelavale; and hopefully, the message was clear, despite the choppy line. If worse becomes true, the demons may realize this thin cord of contact and will come for them.

So the adults have decided to stop contacting, for now, and to reserve the batteries. The telephones, mobile devices and internet remained active since the last time they called, but what's to say the demonic Veil has already ruined that chance? The humans with her may not know of this (or her true self), but they were quick to catch the drift regarding the supernatural nature of things, and how it's stacked against them. The electricity is still running, yet they dared not to use the lights or even the temperature conditioning systems, for fear of being found out.

Safe and trapped at the same time, the rest of them huddle close using the castle-resort's many emergency sleeping bags and extra blankets. The adults had resorted to using bed sheets and sleeping with their heads resting on the table or on the couch; in case they needed to wake up quickly, they would not be in a compromised position. Here on the castle's large multi-purpose room, with all the curtains drawn—save for where she stood next—the pitiful sight of these survivors is breaking her heart…and yet, underneath its breaking shell is her soul still stubbornly clinging for hope.

Slightly pulling back the curtains, she looks on to the peaceful, frozen lake of Rochenmore. She thinks how nothing has truly changed about her, just as nothing has changed over the course of nine thousand years and so.

She was there when the twins were born; she was there to support their secret union; she was there when the ritual took place and took away many of her friends to a New World, far away from here, while she chose to remain; and she was there during the height of the war…

And after all these years, the war and its famine, its pestilence and its death…everything is almost the same, and she was sure, if and when the prophecy comes, the same of everything will happen before she finally draws one last breath.

She had watched over victims, tried to soothe their anguish and agony, did her best to protect them and tried to fortify refuges to shield them from this accursed war…

And still, everything was the same, over and over.

She did her best to stop them from coming to kill her idol, a great warrior and a proud mother…

…for her faith and her hope was stubbornly unwavering—was unwavering. Now, it shook like her uneven breaths.

She hugs herself as she rubs her arms, warming herself because of the cold weather and the coldness that has haunted her all these years.

She had been saved instead, made to hide again for the last thirteen years, even though she had long Regressed into simply an immortal Transient, biding her time while she did what she could for all the things she believed for this world…

It was as planned, for the twins to survive at all costs, no matter what! And yet it's still painful, lonely and tiring; to be made a patient saint out of her, hoping against all odds. And even with Mundus' downfall, a new threat has risen to further add fuel to this vicious war and she is tired of this predictability: trapped, helpless, her faith slowly sinking into an abyss, still waiting…

But despite these emotions, despite her tired, immortal body, she clings to hope. She prays for that future. She remains faithful to the cause; to the coming prophecy…

She has to! She had seen this Realm suffer for too long now and she isn't letting up when this world's suffering hasn't!

She heaves the cold puff of air out of her lips, feeling her chest to listen to her thudding heart.

The sun is beautiful despite the fog and the loud stench of these foul things roaming their humble town. The rest of the 94 survivors are still sounding asleep and her magic remains active enough to hide them from being found and possibly mauled…or worse. But she tries not to think of the worse things she knows these demons are so capable of doing when it came to playing with their prey. She is here, and that's all she needs to focus on.

Outside, through the thick drape of the curtain, covering the large, ornate window, she can see her companion, a Pterripus—a large winged horse, powerful enough to not be harmed by those demons—flying miles up into the gray, morning skies, a mere cryptic silhouette. This pterripus, named Pegasus, has been under her care for centuries, but it remains quite individualistic and carefree, and much more so, now that Mundus' kingdom is in shambles. She is not his master, but still, he sees her as her caring equal and would not bow down to anyone, not even to his true master...wherever he is hiding or, perhaps, exiled himself to. She shakes her head at the memory of that insufferable ally, if he can be called one, for abandoning his prized pterripus and their goals!

She sighs with some relief that Pegasus, carefree he may be, had a hand in saving these survivors, now asleep in this historic castle. But since she cannot risk detection or even try to awaken her 'true' self, she cannot use her powers to try to telepathically communicate to him, to know of his thinking or where he could be going.

Faith...she muses inside her head. Pegasus must be onto something…

Besides the pterripus, another creature has awoken, though he hides in Angelavale and, just like Pegasus, he'll come as he pleases. And to be truthful, she is quite jealous of these creatures that naturally awake to their powers. But she must remain humble; she has strengths and she has her current responsibility. After all, their power won't be enough to protect them from the horde of demons; they are living creatures, after all. She hopes they are safe in their hideaways. I must focus. I am the only one that stands between these demons and these humans. As it has always been…

A new day has come and she has to prepare for it. Under her breath, she prays as she observes the dark, frozen lake.

"O Hallowed Ones of Our Past...please, give us strength and make our hopes more than a wish…"

The silence is not comforting, as it is the quietude between bursts of violence and mayhem, an in-between break. She observes the dark forest, foggy landscape and shrouded mountains as her lips murmur prayers of hope and rescue, when she sees something stirring underneath the sheet of ice on the frozen lake! Her eyes widen, alert! She pulls the curtain a bit farther…

...something long and gigantic swims beneath the frozen skin of the icy lake…

She presses her hand on the cold glass surface, her breath accidentally fogging the glass surface of the window! She wipes it clean immediately and realizes, as a small legion of demons has slithered across the frozen lake, their nails dragging themselves as they followed the giant creature beneath, that she did not imagine it!

She cannot contain her excitement as she prays fervently under her breath!

"O Nameless and Unfathomable One, O Mother and Watchful Angel, and All Our Hallowed Ancestors! Please give Him strength! Let him rise again to summon the Blood Moon! Let his colourful scales touch the skies and fly once again! He is old and distressed, as are the waves of the many waters he swims, yet he deserves his revival and freedom!"

She clasps her fingers together as she watches the demons giving chase and hacking through the ice; some had drilled inside and had gotten through, their claws and teeth hurting the old, peaceful creature, deepening the colors of the already dark waters of this lake. Tears fall down her cheeks as she continues to pray.

But at this point, she didn't care anymore.

Her helplessness had long weighed down upon her for too long now! It is reckless and foolish for her to suddenly decide this, for those demons will be attracted to her, endangering everyone inside this relic of a castle!

But I must!

Her heart beat faster, louder, like echoing beats of a drum far away. It's staccato rhythm summoning an old familiar tingle of her power awakening…

…so she reaches out, out, out towards Angelavale, her spirit piercing through a powerful Threshold and touching any creature laying dormant or hiding…

...and deep in its woods, a creature stirs awake from his sleep, his tail wagging and his ears perking up!

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Outskirts of Angelavale, Wolfhaven County

Much later

It isn't every day they get to experience a very long day, where they woke to find out that the apocalypse is coming, and that it was going to start at a rural county; coupled by two mad men doing something god-knows-what and an ancient force of angelic proportions coming down to judge them all, both biblically and judgmentally, it's clear it was going to take a while to clear this plate.

Kat's grip on the steering wheel tightened, her eyes peeled on anything that's in front of them, as well as letting the feeling of the powerful Sentience cascade over her. Despite the mist and the dull greyness of the clouds, Kat could make out the shapes of flying birds above, flying west, likely migrating.

After entering that Threshold just a few minutes ago, Kat had been on high alert, near paranoid something would jump out of the fog and hug the sedan with full force. But as the minutes ticked by and nothing out of the ordinary is alerting her senses, or Dante's (although she admits he's not always trying), Kat became a bit relaxed. And she feels guilty for being so. She should know better than to lower her guard; she should be suspicious and trying to figure out the exact location of who or what is making this barrier, and for what purpose. But her head swims at wanting to do menial things before progressing the mission, such as the look of the motel or inn they would be staying or the meals they would be eating, or the things they might buy or learn or discover…

She glances at her right and sees Dante laying his head against the crook of his right arm, staring out the window, watching the swirl of fog as it slightly unveils a peek of forests and sloping landscapes, only to be covered again. He is humming…

He had pushed his seat's backrest at an obtuse angle, while the rest of his long legs go as far as the end corner of the passenger's side, underneath the glove compartment. As the melody continues, it sparks a memory inside Kat. She had heard him with this song back in their apartment; he'd sang the words before, going back and forth from the lyrics to humming the whole way, likely not quite sure what the exact words are.

"Hm." Crinkling her face in thought, Kat glances at her glum friend. "You never told me about that melody. It sounds familiar, though. Did you make it? What's it about?"

"From my mother."

She blanches in her seat, although it's a miracle she didn't lose her focus.

He continues, "She sang it to us."

Kat wordlessly mouths an "Oh…" and silently listens to his humming.

She knew he's not okay, not even after that light-hearted time during lunch before leaving Limbo City; and definitely not so after waking up from his nap, supposedly from the same weird dreams. Oh, the business of his weird dreams, which she had surmised is likely connected to his mysterious heritage. But since he barely remembers a scrap of information from these dreams, she cannot help him nor even try with any a clue to get started.

But it's also possible that, besides the current situation in Wolfhaven, Dante's foul mood may likely come from his solo conversation with Morrison.

Perhaps the ignition to his simmering mood started when they were at Morrison's cargo van, briefed about the latest dire news regarding Rochenmore. They had just gotten the fullest scope from Angelavale's personnel: Rochenmore's evacuation was not as successful as they wanted it to go; although many made it to Angelavale, a large number of vehicles were abducted.

The town of Rochenmore—on the eastern part of Worlfhaven's county—had been the second haven for their local refugees, after the massacre at Edenville, for two days straight. On the third day, however, reports of new sightings and even attacks from an encroaching demon horde had prompted a whole 24-hour evacuation plot, not wanting a repeat of Edenville's. With 30 family-owned vehicles, 70 transit buses, 20 emergency ambulances and 14 utility vehicles expected to arrive, according to the registered population list, the number of 110,239 people of Rochenmore is to be designated to another shelter in the main square of Angelavale.

However, mere minutes before midnight and after the first phase of the evacuation plot, the most dreadful thing had to happen: the horde came!

The militant personnel were successful in defending the remaining 102 vehicles, while a total of 32 buses were taken by the horde; engulfed in dark fog and smoke, with the ominous and dissonant cackling of the demons that had now infested the hapless town, 32 buses worth of school children and staff disappeared to their clutches.

"3,055 missing, most of which are students, are of Rochenmore's only but largest school, the Connor's Primary to Secondary Educational School." Morrison had described, his tone remaining even despite his grim look. "Now we know this is urgent, but with little information on what kind of creatures can take these vehicles away like that, it's imperative that you prioritize making it to Angelavale first. That town's the last demon-free bastion of Wolfhaven. It's highly important you two meet with the group I stationed there and make your base of operations."

Dante's look throughout the whole briefing grew tense, but he remained seated, while Kat actively discussed with Morrison all the details they've gathered and clarified how she'll be able to deduce the creatures soon, once they're in the actual area. Images of what the demons looked like filled the large screen as Morrison projected them with his laptop; despite the horrid implications of the pictures and videos captured by the militant personnel and civilians, it was rather disappointing: the fog blurred what could be giant limbs or their wicked maw or whatever indescribable body part the demons possessed. It was clear, however, how the long school buses had been swiped from the road, and back into the thick swirl of fog, as if they were toys for playtime.

It was here, during descriptions of the abduction, that Dante scoffed, his face contorted in this sickening smirk. Lifting his leg to fold it over the other, Dante snickers, his eyes glossing over the images right before him. "Just our luck. Of course it had to be this bitch…"

The two of them had turned to him, as he stood up from his chair and went towards the screen. It only took one word, one name, for the whole thing to become crueller:

"Lamia."

His face softens as he watches the terror filling Kat's face; her gaze only on him while she reacts both sympathy and dread. It was Morrison who said the right question: "Didn't you kill her? There was even a report of the violent massacre in Lamia's Orphanage and Day Care Center…thirteen years ago…"

Closing his eyes while he shook his head, Dante reopens them as he replies sombrely. "Thought so, too. But that's her natural pattern, or rather, her minions' pattern." He points his index finger at the images before them, his eyes sharp, as if he can see through the fog and is challenging the demons. "When it came to hunting down the most fearful and vulnerable, they're the best. And because of that, I tried to put them out of business while I was under their 'care'. But looking back, I'm not surprised how she's still here. I could've likely just murdered one of her many forms."

It's here that Kat's expression became stern and introspective. "Lamia…she is an empusai after all."

"You mean, a shape shifter." Morrison adds, folding his arms as he looks into her information on his phone. "Dr. Lamia Machlah, a middle-aged woman and the head ward of the center. Lamia's corpse was discovered looking like an 'empty sack' with her head decapitated, her innards removed and almost lacking blood…"

"Empty sack seems about right." Dante chuckled in morbid nostalgia, in which Kat wrinkled her nose at.

"So she escaped her previous body." Kat clarifies, looking like a light bulb lit above her head. "And now…now with Mundus gone, she's free to do whatever she wants, as naturally as she wants…"

"The children are her favorite." Dante added, his tone rather subdued and Kat looks at him with concern. "The way she and her minions will feed on their torment before going for the finale…yeah, nasty."

A stern, gruff groan escaped Morrison, his brows furrowed. "Well with all that made clear, it's now imperative, more than ever, that you make it to Angelavale first. This can't become too personal and you'll need to learn as much as you can about the infestation."

Kat nods, but it was here that Dante disagrees, his voice severe. He voices up about their time running out, especially for the victims, but Morrison is adamant that they have to be patient, take a strategic approach. At this point, she can understand where the two are coming from, but which is the right thing to do, was something that didn't come to her at first.

"You don't get it, do you? It's been more than twelve hours. The only thing stopping Lamia back then was the way the distribution of the 'goods' had to be spread out among Mundus' workers and his top cohorts!" Dante bickers at him, leaning too close for comfort at the older man. "Of course, you wouldn't know the full scope of how they treated their 'goods'. You weren't there when they lured me to their place when I was a kid…"

The older man snarled, though there was a smidgen of weariness in the words he admonishes to Dante, whose sympathetic and passionate look both melted and enraged Morrison. He understands Dante's heart is in the right place, but it is still a big problem nonetheless, going in blindly. "I don't need easy. I need you two to do the best and most rational thing. I understand perfectly well the things that tormented you when you were alone and how a lot of the issues aren't in our control. But now that you're here with us, please, for the love of all things still sane, I need you to realize that you can't gung-ho your way in all these things just because you can! We can't lose you again! And definitely not to that demon!"

"I took her out when I was barely eight years old!" Dante retaliates with a wicked smirk. "You trying to make things 'sane' is going to cost lives, Morrison!"

The argument went back and forth; their voices rising to a point Kat knew someone passing by would hear. She came in between them, trying to find a middle ground, although if she was being honest, she sides with Morrison. Kat's hand rested on Dante's shoulder, her dilated grey-green eyes trained on him. "Stop! You two, we all get it! We do need to get there," she says turning to the older man first, then turning to her best friend sternly, "but not hastily and definitely with our heads still intact."

There was a painful look of anger and tenderness on her face as she reprimands, with him backing down. The way he looked at her was almost apologetic, if not for the angry scowl still written all over his face. Kat chastises, "We all have an idea what you went through and you're very sympathetic towards these kids, we all are. But Lamia is different now and whatever she's done with Rochenmore, it's going to spread. We have to be better than her to finally stop her. That's why it's important we put our ground on Angelavale. Once there, we can scope a better view of what's happening. We need a strategy going against our first major demon."

Kat can see she was getting through and it was the best thing she liked about Dante: he does listen. He knows they're in this together, anyway. She continues her reasoning, gentle this time. "We can do this in less than a day, Dante. Don't be impatient. The apocalypse is just right around the corner after the last 9,000 years or so. It took that long for it to come, so we coming in won't dent a thing in its historic value."

He chuckles glumly, "Yeah, pretty sure they could just do it again in the next 9,000 or so." The two stared at one another as a silent agreement comes between them, before Dante closes his eyes for a while, releasing a long breath and opening them once more. The tension seems to have lifted, although deep in the crevices of his whole being, she was sure Dante remained riled up. But she figured that he's saving that when facing Lamia once more, as well as future encounters with other powerful creatures barring their way.

He grins softly and Kat returns it with the same smile, relaxing her grip on his shoulder. He finally murmured, "We'll do it your way."

Morrison rolls his eyes, despite grinning. "You know what, I'm pretty sure I made all those points earlier, it's just that, you prefer listening to Kat."

Now relaxed and with his best friend satisfied, he turns to Morrison, looking impish. "You said about us being protected, right? So, anything I say and do won't be held against me?"

Kat rolled her eyes; he just had to start annoying someone again. A frustrated groan escaped Morrison's lips, which turns into a chuckle, his brows quirked at Dante, who looks sly. "After the whole case, we'll see about who and what they're going to charge you with if you ever did something wrong. So don't push it, kid."

They wrap things up with details about the officers at the service station at the outskirts of Angelavale and the likely 'social climate' on the area. Being traumatized and still jam-packed with local refugees, plus with interrogative and all-too-nosy journalists that may still be in the area, their best way to interact with most of the locals is to say as little as possible, and not attract too much attention; if they have to, it's best that they find an expert who can show them the information or where to look to get started. With the locals talking about a lot of things within earshot, they can be sure to realize a lot of personal experiences regarding the demon infestations. Despite the circumstances, the townsfolk do have an idea of who they are, especially Dante, formerly being infamously publicized as a deviant, social terrorist and among other unsavoury details. Lastly, most of the population has been moved to the central area of the town, but with evacuation vehicles pouring in too slowly and little numbers, the service station will remain fully-booked.

Morrison continued his lecture. "And if you do really need any kind of assistance, my people are there for your beck and call. Don't hesitate to ask or tell them what you've learned or seen. I need to know as much as I can about your situation. They'll be with you until Wolfhaven is free from this hellhole."

In unison, they replied, "Noted."

Moving on to other matters, Morrison inquired about their apartment lease, their baggage details and any other questions they may have, before finally shutting off the screen and announces for a lunch break; it's here when his phone rang. Fishing it out of his pocket, his eyes widen when he recognizes the unknown number.

"It's Phineas." He murmurs, his eyes blazing with intrigue, as the two hunters stare at one another. He answers it and greets his old friend. They exchange pleasantries, as well as the recent attack on this district and the public's new vitriolic and panic-induced viral news of this new predicament.

As he speaks through his phone, Dante's eyes lingered on the sapphire blue-colored ring on Morrison's finger; before the older man peers at him and caught him staring, he quickly gazes at the floor, languidly sitting with his leg crossed over the other.

"Alright…" Morrison finally says before pulling the phone away and handing it to Dante, who stands up from his seat. The look they shared implied that he was expecting Phineas to talk to him; so Morrison tilts his head, gesturing a knowing look, while Dante stared at his phone, like it was a hazardous material, before finally taking it after four seconds must've passed by.

After putting it on loudspeakers, he sighs at the speaker end of the phone as a response to the old prophet, who chuckles at the sound of the distorted rumble of air against the speaker.

"Oh, Dante! Good to know you're still drawing breath!"

"Haha, nice one…" Dante mocks. "Okay, seriously? What more do we need to know? Mundus still alive? That my mom's side of the family hates me and my twin? They're likely not going to invite me when they hold a funeral for their fellow angels after I'm done with them."

Another amused chuckled from the old demon prophet escapes his lips, in which Dante finds a sort of feeling of ease, knowing of the sacrifices he's making for them. "I apologize. I know that you have a lot of questions, but let's be honest, I telling you your parents' accomplishments and our allies' history and goals won't do it justice."

He makes a face, a mixture of irritation and disappointment, rolling his eyes as he answers. "Yeah, well, leaving me hanging while I read Vergil's horror stories and borderline narcissistic views of his lavish predicament ain't sitting well with me, either."

Another howl of laughter from Phineas did render him to grin. The old prophet cuts his laughter short and clears his throat. "Ah, I see you've perused your brother's property quite well. I think he won't mind at this rate. I do hope you're also reading the ancient tomes I've sent to you and Kat."

"You don't worry my history assignment, Phineas." He replies dryly. "Tell it straight. What's going on? Why can't you help your police ally here or be here when a pair of angels came in to clean up this side of Limbo City? I mean, I know the city's budget disappeared along with its Demon Emperor, but I don't think they'd be enthusiastic checking the pipelines in this place, after they tear this place apart."

"Hell, if they did, they would think the Human Realm a priority to annihilate!" Phineas adds humorously and guffaws at the morbid joke. Although Dante snickers in good humor, his two human companions appear sour-faced at the joke. Kat, in particular, was shaking her head.

"Oh, Dante! Yes, yes, I have disappointed you for not being there and I deeply apologize. However, know my absence is essential: I have returned to Limbo's Veiled World in order to convince the remaining horde to become part of our allegiance. And dare I say, I think them mulling over this new change is a good start!"

All three of them exchanged looks, although Dante was the most horrified. The sharp exhaled breath escaped his mouth as Phineas' words made him feel like he's seeing a large polar ice cap randomly explode, which would cause a massive shockwave, giving way to the second Great Flood!

"You mind running that by me again? Did you just say—?!"

"I spoke clearly, Dante. Pay attention!" The old prophet snaps, his voice avid with energy. "The last of Mundus' Court are scattered and have left most of their underlings to themselves. Surely, running amok on their own, they would still cause damage here in our Realm, but knowing how most of humanity has awoken to the truth and have violently reacted to them, they are a dwindling number. And with the oncoming Sphere of angels, their small group would be easily decimated. So! Here I am, persuading them so that they can still have a place in our Realm, by joining us in our battle in our right to be here—!"

"And they're actually deciding whether or not to consider this new offer? Fucking unbelievable! How can we trust them?" The way he interrupted Phineas is eroded with suspicion, anger and anxiety. He had a long history with their kind, the way they took advantage of anyone who was in the same low-level gutter they were all creeping in: vile, cruel and gluttonous little assholes that did whatever they want, so long as they don't step on their higher-ranking brethren. They fed on the scraps of hope and bones of slaughtered humans that fell off from the high-class tables of their demon masters, and sold out anyone for the equivalent of short-term assurances and illusory 'membership' within prestigious ranks. They preyed upon who are desperate; they swear their loyalty to anyone who so long as provide them what they want, until they backstab or betray them when they can no longer do, left to be pecked upon by other, more feral demons that prowled for the weakened. They do not care at all for one another and will step on each other without remorse and will gleefully do it for their own self-preservation.

And now that the tables have turned, Dante can see it in his mind's eye how they would like nothing else but to cling to the last bits of themselves, desperately begging to be spared in exchange for revealing the other lowly demons hiding in nooks and crannies of hapless children and out-casted individuals—their favorite prey—grovelling to the feet of their new 'masters' as they swear their fealty to them. Or they would be fighting back, happy to be free of the system that belittled and ignored them for so long, and are now likely selling out their previous masters, abandoning the rules of who deserves the biggest reward, and are out to take what they want, devour who they want, without any care for the coming consequences whatsoever.

And Kat can see the blaze of fury in his pale, electric-blue eyes. She understood perfectly well this reaction, and she, too, is unsure of this move. Is Phineas being too idealistic? She thought to herself.

"Calm yourself, Dante, I am not finished—!"

"They're bullshitting you, Phineas!" Dante yells over the phone. "And don't fucking tell me about how your Eye can magically see through their lies, I don't care! We can't trust these monsters! You think they'd want to be saved, in exchange for helping us against the two biggest threats that's come out of this recent system crash? They're in it for themselves! As soon as everything's done and gone, they'll turn against our backs and take over!"

"And you think leaving them to their own devices is any wiser?" Phineas asks scathingly. "How should we treat our former enemies, then, hmm, Dante? They would have likely served Vergil instead, or would have even turned us to the Angels' wrath, in exchange for their promises of redemption from their former sins."

Dante's acidic scoff and tone is understandable, as he says, "Yeah, well, that would have been believable. And easy for us."

The 'harrumph' from Phineas settles it down, though: the old prophet is adamant with his plan. "It was believable and easy for you when we first met! Had I not been any help to you, would you have ignored my plea or had done something worse? You are not thinking again!"

"So I've been told…" He groans and turns to Morrison and Kat, to which Kat is beginning to doubt Phineas' idealism in some way. These demons are being given the chance to help change this world…or rather, this Realm. But would they change it for the better, or worse?

Phineas continues his tirade. "We are the ones in charge now, Dante. This is not simply an optimistic turn for their chance at redemption and changing the tides of this battle, but our ardent stance at how we treat others. If we made this about our wounded past and ego, then we are no better than our enemies." Then Phineas explains soothingly. "I am aware of our very tumultuous and violent history with them, their wrongdoings under Mundus' rule and their maltreatment of you. But if they continue to reign without guidance and carelessly lead their lives in such a detrimental state, then the cycle will never end. We end this now, so we can deal with the other threats that aren't quite easily converted, hopefully with some of their assistance."

He closed his eyes once again, his brows furrowed painfully, trying to even his breath. Kat's gentle voice cuts in, her hand on his shoulder again and he gazes at her. He can see she had decided. "Remember the harpy shooter?"

That poor little demon…well, not really little, as he's actually seven feet tall and a little slow in intelligence. But not in his uncanny kindness in helping out the children gather food from a recently destroyed grocery mall, where Dante first met him and likely being taken advantage of by the children. He fended off the harpies that had gone flying down from Silver Sacks Tower, when there was personnel coming in to inspect the rubble. After that, he and Kat took him in for a time, harpy-shooting out of friendly competition and going out for pizzas.

I wonder how he's doing… Kat had thought after she reminds Dante of that strange friend they have. But because of their situation, they could not know for now.

He swallows and turns to face Morrison, his weathered face stretched in a warm, hopeful expression. "I know trusting a group of very questionable people doesn't sit well with you and it doesn't with me, either, but if we can't even make a civil agreement with them, we ain't setting an example."

He heaves a very severe sigh, his tongue against his cheek before speaking. "I know things are crazy, but this is just nuts! I'm not disagreeing because I don't like 'em. But yeah, I don't! But I disagree because I don't want things going south. I don't know what to make of it if bad things happen, y'know."

A soft chuckle comes from Phineas. "You carry your burden in frustration and disquiet, Dante. I understand your fear, but this isn't just my decision. Some of them have contacted me personally and, with a blessing from one of the Vie De Marli, we have come to meet regarding the details on who will help in the government takeover, as well as the new peace treaty."

"So our allies are in on it, too…" He sounds disappointed. "Busy replacing the president? Or all bodies of government? They're sure they can't come down here to meet me, as some state visit?"

"Oh, and what will they do when they see you? Or rather," Phineas adds sceptically. "What will you do to them when they show themselves to you?"

"Flip them off, I guess." He quips nonchalantly, which does earn him irksome looks from the two. He shrugs his shoulders. "Kidding."

"I think you, no doubt, will do that." Phineas manages to take it light-heartedly.

"Look, to be honest, I've long lost my faith in them." He says with weariness in his voice. Morrison's gaze softens, but remains quiet. "So even if they show up, I really don't care. I…I just don't."

"We shall see. And they will see you, whether or not you remain faithless." The old prophet adds cryptically, despite his kind optimism. "They have been around this Realm much longer, and will be so until the main goal has been met. You may not need to wait long, if they finally show themselves to you and will likely take you away."

He huffs an air of disbelief, but dials his tone to something almost polite. "Thank you, Phineas, for the heads up."

"We're heading to lunch!" Kat enthuses over the phone. Dante sticks out his tongue at her, to which she retaliates by flicking at his ear. She continues blithely, "I hope you have one, too! We appreciate everything, Phineas."

A carefree chuckle escapes the old demon's lips and replies back. "Oh, thank you, Kat! Please, take care of yourselves. But before I go, one last thing. The pouch I have entrusted to Morrison, is it now with you?"

Inside Kat's fanny pack, she pulls the intricately-designed, blue rose-embroidered pouch and shakes it, the noise of its contents clinking prettily. "Right here with me. Why?"

"You have seen its contents, yes?"

The two hunters exchanged looks. They had seen the contents right after the fight with the Seraph; while they were packing their belongings to leave the apartment, they investigated the contents of such a well-made pouch. And they couldn't believe what Phineas has given them: bullion coins—special coins used for trading or exchange, unlike regular financial coins—and a small, sophisticated and archaic-looking key, complete with the emblematic blue rose. There were ancient runes written on the stem of this old-fashioned key; it's only thanks to Kat's rough linguistic knowledge she was able to deduce its meaning…

"Yes." The two echoed, their eyes blazing in intrigue.

Dante insensibly asks, "Does this fancy-ass key open to my family's hidden trove of photo albums and god-made weaponry?"

Ignoring him, Kat adds into the conversation a more important aspect. "I translated the writing on it. I believe it's the locksmith's signature. 'With the approval of the locksmith Surgat'."

An approving hum comes from Phineas. "Very good, Kat. Astutely done!"

She beams at Dante, almost arrogantly, to which he rolls his eyes at. Phineas continues to explain. "The key only opens to a specific place and is invaluable. Wolfhaven townsfolk are not inherently superstitious, but they do have good knowledge of their local tales and history. If I am correct, their historic diner at the edge of Angelavale's town is rife with people with historical knowledge, and they will surely know a thing or two about Surgat. You may need to use it if the situation becomes dire."

"Lemme guess," Dante chides the old prophet. "You don't know where the door is."

"Nope." Phineas answers without a heartbeat.

Dante blanches. "Wait! I was just kidding!"

"Surgat was an old friend, but a very...eccentric one," Phineas explains, his tone grim. "He rarely entrusted anyone regarding his works, but he was so distrustful that he had revealed one of our own to be a traitor, and so punished him by entombing his living body inside one of his co-constructed machinations...or so his last words were before he perished in the Ancient War. He left only that very key, besides the many doors and locks he gleefully hides across this Realm."

"Sound like an inspiration for a metal band's song." Dante remarks.

"I think I have the copy of the Grimoire, regarding Surgat." Kat includes brightly. "I guess verifying data with locals will be useful. We'll go study it—"

"Bleergh…" Dante groans in bored revulsion, in which Kat slaps his arm to chastise him. "Yes, thank you, Phineas, for more informative content."

"We'll go study about it, right, Dante?" Kat glares at him.

"I already said an affirmative!" He defends, quite affronted. He adds, however, in a hushed tone, "No wine cellar in that top-secret place…could just drink my way through demon killing, if it was true…"

Morrison chuckles at the way the two bantered, and to this, Phineas turns to him through his own phone. "The fate of our Realm rests on their hands."

Still affronted, Dante makes a peeved sound, whilst Kat bows her head in embarrassment. Morrison replies with a blasé laugh. "Oh, but we're still here, Phineas! We have to finish this job!"

The old demonic prophet agrees with a resounding voice. "Our relevance is still assured, despite our age!"

And with that, an optimistic glint in the old cop's eyes unexpectedly gives them a small boost of morale. He takes back his phone after they've said their goodbyes, with Dante even saying 'good luck' to the demon prophet, wherever he was.

"Finally," Dante murmurs, sighing a breath of relief. "Lunch."

As they headed out to the marquee where a lunch buffet is held for workers and evacuees waiting for their designated vehicles, Dante had been stopped by Morrison and whispered something to him, to which Dante nods his head at him before joining Kat. She glanced back when she realized Dante didn't immediately answer her query regarding his disgust of olives and had only momentarily seen Morrison stepping off his cargo van, with Dante jogging up to her side.

"What was that about?" She inquires with a cock of an eyebrow.

With an unconvincing smile, he replies, "Nothing. We're just gonna talk. I'll grab and eat with you, then head back to the van."

Realizing this was in confidentiality, Kat tactfully instead tells him. "Well, when the time's right, let me know, okay?"

His eyes glancing at her, he conveys an appreciative grin and nods at her.

Hugh, the veteran officer, greets them when they enter the large pole marquee, his arms wide and his lips beaming warmly at them. Morrison watches the two young hunters with a quiet reverence. As high noon comes and the humidity peaks, the sunlight hits from the corner of one of the business buildings to his cargo van; the warm light glints off his peculiar ring, showing a kaleidoscope of colors as they refract off from the small band encasing a sapphire-blue rose-shaped jewel.

"We're still here…" he murmurs under his breath after peering at his ring.

If she was being honest, she had expected the inside of the tent to be sombre and stiflingly quiet, but Kat was pleasantly surprised to see that some of the workers and evacuees are laughing and making light conversation. Hugh even led them to one of the factors as to why some of the adults are smiling…

"The animal shelter aren't here yet," he tells them as he gestures towards the source of the adorableness. "So we figured we give them a bath ourselves and feed them. We're just glad they can eat cooked meat and not actual live prey…yet, I think."

Surrounded by emergency workers and police, a cardboard box full of meowing kittens and shivering puppies glance all around them in an expression of curiosity and apprehension, reflected back by their round, glossy eyes and small faces. Dante and Kat are immediately giggling and smitten!

They are the infected orphaned animals, the ones the Seraph wanted killed after their parent dogs and cats were fed demonic remains by Mr. Gorgon's questionable hobby with a meat grinder; as descendants, these baby animals are technically cambions, creatures born of demonic and earthly heritage; and for that, the Seraph, and her army of angels that are likely among them in this Realm, have deemed them impure.

Unable to hold back, Dante became particular with a tortoiseshell kitten. "Who's the next predator? Who's the next predator?" Dante cooed at the small kitten, nestled inside his cupped hands, held high and staring its dark blue eyes at Dante's pale, electric blue ones. "Wanna claw an angel's face off? Yeah you do! Yeah you do!"

After that fight with the Seraph, Hugh explains that the baby animals were temporarily held inside one of the police cargo vans. Because of the traffic of evacuating and other utility vehicles, the animal shelter that was supposed to come pick them up had been held back a few blocks from this district.

"Oh, so cute!" Kat cooed as her fingers are playfully nibbled and pawed at by the baby animals. "I wish we could adopt one or two. But we're on assignment."

"You said it." One of the workers replied as he tickled and rubbed the fur of each baby who wanted his attention.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short when one of the workers, speaking on the phone, announces that the animal shelter wouldn't be able to squeeze through the traffic and hoped that someone could instead bring them over. Realizing it was time to part ways, Dante volunteers.

"I'm coming, too." Therese adds, standing up from a little farther from where most of them who were tending to and cooing at the litter of baby animals. Although no one expressed it, the two demon hunters did find this intriguing and amusing, as Therese had made it clear a few minutes ago that her water mixes so well with Dante's oil.

Without a word, however, Kat quirks her brow at him, in which he wiggles his at her, hinting a playful foreshadowing, before joining Therese out to find the group. Taking the kittens and puppies inside the box, Dante delivers the baby cambions to the animal welfare workers, still in traffic and six blocks away from where they were. Bidding goodbye to the tortoiseshell kitten, Dante swears to see the kitten again. Therese shakes her head in outward disbelief but in secretive joy at this, but she assures him that they'll see the babies again. Dante even managed to get their contact details, particularly the contact details of the female and gay workers who avidly spoke to him. She rolled her eyes at the flirtatious spectacle and was inwardly relieved to just leave.

"You can visit them and adopt the kitten," Therese says with a lopsided grin, snickering at him, as they walk back to their area. "Although, I hope not, since that cat's survival under you is questionable."

"Yeah, you're right," he quips, in which Therese's expression becomes glum as she looks at his face, beaming at her. "I already have Kat. And I think she would've loved a dog instead. You like dogs, Ms. Officer?"

"Okay first of all, bad pun! And second, yes, I like the kind of dogs trained to hunt on your ass!" She snaps at his teasing expression.

"Oh, Teresa, I knew you were cruel," he feigns a shocked tone. "But I didn't know you were the dominatrix-kind of cruel. I like it!"

"You—!" She points an accusing finger at him, her expression riled up and her green eyes trying to pierce through his jovial blue ones. Instead, she turns away, grumbling under her breath and briskly walked ahead of him, to his amusement.

He fishes inside his coat pocket and procures the animal welfare's contact details. "Yeah…someday." He murmurs to himself with a smile.

When they've returned, Kat hollers for Dante to where he can take his seat, while he waves back at her as he gets in line.

Meal times are always the time to bond with one another, even if you have disagreements with someone; it's a sociable decorum. Kat had experienced this briefly when she worked for the Order; the underground group had given her an opportunity to practice normalcy and a chance to have friends, despite the circumstances. And now, even though all of her friends from the defunct, Vergil-led group have departed, she was thankful. They have filled her heart with strength, enough to help her find a new chance in befriending the authoritarian force that once abducted her just days ago.

Now, supplanted with a new force of freedom fighters and civil protectors, it feels so elative to brim with hope. It gives her this warm feeling of being surrounded with similar-minded individuals, working together to end this ancient war humanity has not been aware of for thousands of years. They are the lucky few and, to her, this assignment isn't just putting a halt to Vergil's and Arkham's scheme, or bringing back Wolfhaven to the townsfolk; this assignment means she brings with her the hope and proof of what humanity can be. Those who have been in the dark, they will learn of this incident and it would serve an inspirational purpose. She and her new team; her and Dante, on this new journey.

They are indeed lucky…

And speaking of luck, it appears the lunch service isn't an entire cheapskate affair and Dante is both gleeful and grateful at the food fare before him. Although he hasn't made any actual commotion, his loud presence still manages to rouse two reactions: invitation to get a plate, most of which from volunteer chefs, and glances from people who recognize who he is, instinctually huddling their younger ones closer to their arms.

Therese glances at him from across the marquee, sitting with her fellow cops, her eyes blazing with annoyance; Dante, however, is oblivious and remains coolly unaffected. Kat, who sits on the other bench, observes and catches Therese's eye, who quickly changes her expression and hollers a greeting, trying to hide the fact she's blushing and looking at him.

The queue isn't long and some had gone back for seconds. Taking a compartment serving tray, he patiently arrives to the first server of the meal, two soups in fact, for options: Pizza soup and Lentil Sweet Potato soup. He picks both and seems content to be filled with whatever the next server was serving him, which was Vegan Butternut Squash Stew, with quinoa and tomatoes, and the next one as well, a Curry Chicken Salad. The last serving are desserts, called a fruit pizza, while the rest are cooled fruit and yoghurt. He took one pizza and yoghurt, but a staggering amount of one particular fruit.

"So, what'd you grab?" She checks his overflowing tray already and grins in surprise. He sits across her, with Therese and her group just next to theirs. "Seriously, that's a lot of strawberries."

He grins coolly at her, his bowl of strawberries toppled over like a pyramid. "I love these." He peers over at the cops seated next to them and they nodded in greeting as they continue to dine. As he digs in, Kat's mind flashes back to a time she thought she would never remember again; it was trivial, nothing that could be important…

…but—

"Here, have some." He said as he prepared two big bowls of sorbet, topping each off with fruits. He put more strawberries to his, however. "I love these. I think my mother used to have a garden full of these fruits. Did you know they're not berries?"

"Did you know," Kat tells Dante, as she picks at her fork and stabs it mindlessly at a chicken in her salad. "Strawberries aren't berries? They're called drupes."

That memory fades when she observes Dante stuffing his face with a spoonful of pizza soup and a forkful of vegan stew dipped in the curry salad's sauce. She smiles, hissing a repressed laugh. Still chewing, he does his best to speak. "Datz-ssho-rahn-dom-khath…"

An annoyed huff gets his attention. "Don't talk with your mouth full!" Therese snaps.

With an impish smile, Dante grins his mouth full of the lunch he's still chewing, in which the poor cop reacts in revulsion and turns away. Finally swallowing, he smacks his lips and speaks to Kat. "You want some strawberries so you don't need to go back?"

She shakes her head as she cuts down the potatoes and chicken in the curry salad, before bringing it up. "No. Thank you. I didn't know you love the fruit."

With a thoughtful look on his face, he stares at his dessert pile before picking one strawberry from it. "Yeah, I…I think I just like how they smell and look, all red and plump." He pops it into his mouth and chews, relishing the flavour. When he finishes, Kat watches closely, seeing his face contort into a moonstruck expression. "I…I swear, I never had these before, but it feels…I don't know, nostalgic?"

"It's a new favorite, then." Kat, sympathetic, watches his lips widen in a tender smile.

Dante chuckles in agreement and proceeds with his lunch. But he then notices Kat playing with her food and appearing irked, unable to finish her plate. She looks up and makes an apologetic face.

"Can you have some of mine?" She offers sheepishly. "They put too much on my plate. I…know I'm not physically fit and don't have the best appetite, but I know I'll just be wasting some of it if I put them on the fresh waste bin."

"Sure Kat."

She whispers her thanks as she transfers some of the stew and salad to his.

They continue to eat their lunch, with Hugh joining them in the seat, bringing them into a light conversation, which turned into a tentative idea about visiting Kali City with Therese as their unofficial tour guide. With talk about city-hopping, others chime in their dream vacations to other places. Dante, however, maintains his silent enjoyment of his lunch, barely registering the conversation. It was when Commissioner Morrison finally entered the marquee that, while his back is turned, Dante whirls his head the moment the veteran entered the area.

Morrison had combed his hair back in place and had changed his top to a red polo shirt, but there was no denying the haggard look still on his face. He falls in line, without picking up the compartment tray, and left the queue quickly, after only grabbing lentil soup and a spoon, and leaves the marquee.

"Well, I better finish up." Dante says as he scoops up his bowl of Pizza soup and slurps it down. His cheeks full of soup, he swallows the entirety in one gulp and scarfs down on the remaining course.

"You don't need to hurry your meal." Kat explains with concern. But before she could say anymore, Dante stands up from the table, his compartment tray clean and finished, heads to the metal shelves for discarding the lunch trays for a service worker to collect, and saved his bowl of strawberries and his yoghurt for Kat 'to safeguard' for him while he's with Morrison.

"Protect them at all cost. I won't be long." He says to Kat.

"Sure. I'll be here if you suddenly have a tummy ache." She says to Dante. The two nod silently at one another, before he left the marquee.

Approaching the vehicle, Dante could make out a faint sound inside the cargo van. It's unmistakably Morrison humming to a painfully familiar melody. He stopped in his tracks, unable to stop his memories…

He looks up to his beautiful mother, her lips smiling brightly, quite amused. "Mama, I'm not sleepy!" He grumbled.

"Oh, I bet you'll fall asleep to me singing."

He shakes his head in a tantrum."No! I didn't get a tummy ache like Vergil did! How come I have to nap?"

Sympathetic but still smiling, his mother brushes his hair back from his forehead. "So you and Vergil can stay awake a little longer? You said you want to see Papa and our friends come over for a visit!"

"Do we get to play and watch them practice?"

She nods happily. "Absolutely!"

Quickly, he pulls the covers away for him to get in the right position, then pulls them back over his chin. "Fine! Okay! I'm sleeping now!"

Smoothing the whole fabric over, his mother begins to hum the opening melody, listening to the lyrics as he let sleep take over...

He knocks at Morrison's cargo van door and glances at the square window on the top part of it. As Morrison peers through it, he grins at the young man before pulling open the door to greet him. Dante's eyes are immediately on the old man's blue ring and says, "First order of business: tell me where you heard that song before! And second: you can help me get in touch with a jeweller. Maybe I'd like a blue-colored rose-shaped ring on my finger, too."

The old man chuckles and steps aside. "Come in and we'll talk about it."

Inside the van once again, he observes Morrison settle himself back to his swivel chair with a foldable table in front of him, his lentil soup still warm. Dante takes the same chair he sat earlier, now across the veteran cop.

"You want to get in touch with the 'jeweller', you can talk to the leader of the Vie De Marli herself. It's crafted from the same type of gem your necklace is made of, anyway. I'm sure she'll want to give you a new present."

Dante scoffs, his tone cold. "I'm sure she would."

A long exhale escapes the older man but decides to continue with his soup. The thick curry base and herbal taste of the lentil remind him of a past so long ago, but cannot be recreated. He continues to sip on the warm orange-colored soup, dripping from his lips as he takes the contents through his mouth. He puts down the spoon and lifts his head to look at the young man square in the face. "Well, you know why I had to talk to you."

"Yeah, let's get on with it!" Dante utters impatiently, stomping his boot. "You wanna tell me all the things you know about our allies, since Phineas is being his usual showman self, wanting me to wait like a good little boy while he crafts the perfect show for when and why the answers are like this!"

Clearing his throat and taking what little patience he also has, Morrison says, "Alright, first things first: the files and journals you're reading, I'm sure they're of help in giving you some information of who they are and what they've been doing even before you were born."

The minutest of Dante's facial muscles ticked in annoyance. "The Vie De Marli? Yeah, they're good enough to paint a good picture of how they're pretty good at keeping hidden, being secrets to this world. I guess that didn't sit well with my brother too long. He started the Order after all, went viral, instead of doing what the Vie De Marli expects of him." He said those words through gritted teeth, though he was more hurt than outraged.

Morrison leans his face close, sympathy written all over it, folding one arm across the table. "So you've read them, the files the Order collected, as well as coded logs Phineas archived? Read their files and mission logs? Some of my mission logs?"

He understands Dante's frustration. Not only is a straight answer difficult, it would take them days, if not weeks, to divulge the best summation for him. But he had been denied for too long, and Phineas is making it longer, although because he and the group themselves are busy with loose ends; and the fact that they have dwindled in numbers. It's fortunate indeed that their efforts had not been in vain, never, and some are recorded well in these mission logs.

The mission logs, written in a format devoid of any emotion, personal information and searchable profile, and light in detail, along with one or two photos as visual evidence of the mission. The ones Dante has are copies of the recent decades of work, along with scant but concise collections of artifact profiling, some of which are labeled 'demon arms'. Morrison tries to suppress a grin, as he recalled Dante's insensible rhetorical question about 'god-made weaponry', indicating he had definitely read these documents—which should date back in the 1960's, up to only five years ago—and may have finished a week-long or longer task in a span of three or four days.

"Because color me impressed, Dante," he smiles approvingly at the young man. "You know, you can help my research team read thousands of texts, if you're willing."

But his lighthearted tone was not getting through him. "So if I told you their summation," Dante says challengingly. "Would you say I passed my 'history assignment'? And if I do agree, you gotta pay me a hundred grand every month for that."

Morrison chuckles dryly. "I'd give you all the passing grades and a billion dollars for doing a good job, Dante, but truth is, that's all that they can give you, as a reader. History can be scant because of its recorders, its writers. What Phineas has given you and what Vergil has collected isn't the only picture, but they're remnants of what happened. It's not just about showing you the whole truth, it's about what's been left of these people, what they believe in, what they have done…even if it's all in code, written and recorded because they know every step they take will be their last."

Dante shakes his head and lifts his hand in a gesture of weariness, his face contorted in annoyance. "So where do I stand in all of this?"

"Simple: they believe in you." Morrison tells him firmly. "These files, records…these are all for you and Kat, and even Vergil."

"What, I'm supposed to continue what they did? What you're doing?"

"So you can survive long enough to live and remember what they've sacrificed. They don't want you to continue, but they want you to know. They love you, Dante. And they love Vergil, too, but they know, I think, that they can't stop him. Because he already knows too much."

BANG! Dante's open palms slaps the table hard, rocking the soup bowl enough to make the contents splash on the table!

Standing up and his expression livid, he watches Dante blink away his tears. "What does he know?! That I don't?!"

"I don't know, Dante! But that's not why I told you to come, I told you that I have to share with you what I had done!" He levels his tone down as his hands gesture him to sit down. "Honestly, if I knew, I'd be at risk and I wouldn't have been able to function as their undercover agent. It's not my place to know…this information. But I know it's my place to help you with what I know, with my history."

Still with his hands on the table, his posture aggressive, Dante asks, "But how did Vergil know? What did he do? Do you know?"

His questions feel insufficient, as Morrison thinks. How did Vergil know and what did he do? As far as Morrison was allowed and curious enough, his twin was taught too well by the Vie De Marli and had copied terrabytes of information with his technological skills and manipulation…

But Dante could understand that already, right? Those weren't the right questions he was really asking them…

"He...he got under the skin of so many people who wanted to stop the oppression and isolation." The commissioner's tone became bitingly detached as he continues. "Not just from Mundus' systemic dominion, but from the Vie De Marli's underground ways. Many in our group became restless and...hopeless. The older generation, as well as I, valued patience and secrecy. Your brother and some of those who would become members of the Order...left us. And now, he still has those specific information, whatever it is that only you two are supposed to know, being shared with a mad scholar."

Morrison's face becomes a bit sorrowful. "He's biting the hands that took care of him. Don't bite them, Dante."

Taking a long breath, Dante closes his eyes and grins in this reproachful manner, as he gradually sits down. There was a long two-second silence before he says, "So I better ask my brother about it."

Whirling his head in relief, Morrison exhales a long breath before relaxing back to lean on his chair.

Now calmed down, Dante gestures for him to continue, saying, "Alright, I'll listen."

"I'll…do my best."

"It is, Commissioner. Because truth be told, I never wanted to know. When I was young, I drilled it inside my head that I don't deserve to know why I exist, and why I was suffering." An aching look sparked from his light blue eyes. "I guess I was afraid but I also didn't find it any more useful than the small cash I get to survive another day. My background wasn't going to feed me or fend off the demons that other people couldn't see. So trust me, you letting me know...it is useful."

"Alright then." With a clap on his knee, Morrison leans in close again, his voice firm. "It's going to be worth it."

When he came back inside the marquee, she was a bit taken aback at seeing this haunted look on his face, especially since Kat is in a deeply humorous conversation with her tablemates. He walked as usual, but there was an unmistakable aura of emptiness that burdens him. He sat silently and didn't look up at anybody, not even to her.

"I'm gonna need that." He says, reaching for the strawberries and yoghurt, that she held on. Pushing them to his direction, she watches him eat it more thoughtfully, too slowly, savoring the bite on the fruit and lick on the spoon. His eyes stared blankly at anywhere, absentminded.

"Dante…"

He shakes his head, closing his eyes and focusing only on his task. Kat had thought he was too deep into his mind, recalling them. But it seems he's merely distracting himself from recalling them…

And he would seem to continue through this introspective reverie for the next few hours, even until now, in this car ride, having just fallen asleep (lucky bastard, Kat surmised) and woken from a supposedly same dream. It's quite remarkably concerning, but Kat had to be patient. But if push comes to shove, she must make it clear to him that she's going to have to know so she can help. And she knows he'll agree.

She remembers Therese actually asking her why he's too quiet and glum, and Kat felt a bit guilty for being unable to provide her new friend answers. She watches how the policewoman, who remained observant as she watched Dante finished his dessert and went to the other exit of the marquee, leading to the portable toilets that lined up half a block, follow his suit.

"Therese, please." She begged her when she pulled at her arm. "Whatever's upsetting him, he's not gonna speak up about immediately."

But the hotheaded woman was adamant and playfully assured her that she could at least put a smirk on his face. When she left, Kat was left wondering why she didn't try enough. Yet, maybe at the back of her mind, she can hypothetically think that what Therese is up to is probable.

And she was right, albeit something she didn't expect.

It was after she had relieved herself from one of the toilets and decided to look for Hugh again, did her eye manage to see a sliver of familiar silhouettes through the gap between the portable toilets. Looking around the too-public area, Kat went around behind the lineup of portables and into an alley between two blocks of buildings. Curious, she trots to the side of the building and almost tripped over the sensibly-flat ground from what she had become witness to!

Hurriedly hiding by pasting her back against the building's wall, she takes a sneak peek at Dante and Therese wrapped in each other's embrace, their lips locked to one another! She shouldn't be shocked, since Kat did sense Therese's desire for him, despite her easily-affronted facade! But perhaps it is a shock that they would get it on this early!

Taking one last peek, Kat blushes as she can see the lustful desires unfolding between two very contrary people, clinging onto the other with an arduous intensity, before finally she decides to retreat, grinning incredulously. Kat isn't the type to bring it up, but the thought of jabbing a hint the next time they get around the topic of love and dating is an amusing prospect!

To him, however, it was plain as day: Therese did want her feelings known, despite a very obvious understanding they definitely don't match. But she cares enough and wanted to give him something to let him know that she does, indeed, believe in his good nature…

But she also wanted to take something from him. And he obliges.

It had only been a few days since he last had sex or even had a kiss, but those had been the longest short few days, and Therese easily stoked that lovely fire in him that she wants to ignite further. She was beautiful and highly-athletic, curved and firm in all the right places, a face made to beckon desire and she flaunted them in a span of a second.

"You are trouble, Dante." She hissed hotly, an inch separate from his towering stature. "But, for once, maybe I'd like to taste it."

Despite the sadness still swimming in his eyes, he smirks at her. "I'm illegal, Ms. Officer. Can you handle this crime?"

She tugs at his tank top as she wrapped one leg around his hip. His smile widens as her lips part for her tongue to lick her mouth. "It won't be when we can get away with it."

"Ooh, damn." Dante snickers before she pulls him further down for them to kiss. He felt her hands travel all over his torso, pushing back his coat and even the waistband of his pants for her fingers to slide in. He moans in approval at all the things she's doing, even when she lightly bites at his lower lip and she growls when he's pulling back to tease her.

"Touch me…" She purrs at him, her hands grasping his and leading them to her hips.

"You want me to give you a pat down?" He asks deviously and she answers with a sly grin, leading his hands downward. His lips simper as she reaches up to kiss him deeply, her hand warmly massaging him inside his pants.

They didn't do anything else, even with the opportunity. He can give and leave her in pleasure in a span of two minutes, but he knew himself; he would crave for her and her body, she wouldn't be able to keep up and he didn't want things to escalate. Therese respects his decision. She also understood that this wasn't a start of anything at all, but that she does care. And that was all okay for him. When they part ways and he made it to where Hugh, Kat and a few of the cops are loading their belongings in the borrowed sedan, her words echoed inside his mind:

"I think whatever it is that's bothering you, it's not your identity or your only future. So don't die! Okay…"

Despite the gravity of her words, his grin is laid-back, his only defense. "Thank you."

And he thought of that, along with his incomprehensible dreams of animals, silhouettes of people talking to him and a weird 'world' eternally locked in this dusky-pink sunrise; he thought of the sacrifices his allies have made despite their waning numbers and his brother's insurgency, and eventual fall from grace, as well as a madman's scheme followed by his likely vengeful daughter.

He thought of the song Morrison revealed to him, back at the cargo van; the song Dante used to sing to his lonesome self. He had no other recollection of how he even knew such a melody before, despite his so-called meningitis that corrupted his brain; but after the trauma and wrath provoked from a demon massacre, before Limbo's Sentience pulls away to reveal Dante's blood-soaked body and haunted eyes, it didn't matter…

...and he hums it, as he watches the misty swirl creeping across the lush county landscape and thick woodlands.

It's been years since he had done so.

"Hm." Crinkling her face in thought, Kat glances at her glum friend. "You never told me about that melody. It sounds familiar, though. Did you make it? What's it about?"

"From my mother."

She blanches in her seat, although it's a miracle she didn't lose her focus.

He says in a withdrawn tone, "She sang it to us."

Kat wordlessly mouths an "Oh…" and silently listens to his humming. She recalls it now, when she had first heard the tune: from one of Vergil's handmade study scores, when he practices on any available music instrument as a way to pass time. She hasn't heard it ever again from Vergil, as he became more focused on finding his twin...until Dante himself started humming it one time when he was reading, whether they were the archived journals or just on his lonesome crooning, making up tunes with a music sheet in hand.

She continues to focus on the road ahead, nonchalantly humming along to Dante's lullaby; since the stereo fizzled out, she might as well enjoy the simplistic tune. Glancing down at the speed meter, Kat decides to accelerate from around 45 kp/h to 50, getting accustomed to the mist and confident in her ability down the road—

"Look out!"

She had only the second to see a grayish silhouette ahead of them before she stomped both feet on the brakes! The sudden stop had them reeling forward before the whole vehicle went into a full rest, with Kat white as a sheet, her mouth open!

The headlights illuminate a lone, old man, shivering and muttering unintelligible words, his back to them. It seems he's not even aware that a sedan is behind him or that it could have ran him over!

"I saw him shuffling from our right," Dante confirms, undoing his seatbelt.

"Wait!" Grabbing his hands to stop him from taking his seatbelt off, they watch as the old man turns around slowly, his whole body shivering or slouching weirdly, and his eyes rolling to the side to finally look at them as he pushes his glasses up with a very shaky hand (due to old age, not from utter shock), his mouth agape in puzzlement. Shaking her head, Kat rolls down the window, despite it not being a good idea.

"That's not a good idea." Dante says breezily, although not even stopping her. Their eyes follow the way the old man shuffles to the driver's side of the car, his wrinkled eyes peering at them through his glasses with difficulty, even though the window is already rolled down.

Nervously but with concern, Kat greets him. "Hello. We're on our way—"

"You should turn back," the old man croaked, his body shaking, as if it took all his effort to say those words. "Turn back now. It's too late. My journal's gone…"

"I apologize." Kat mutters, unsure of what to make of his missing personal effects. "But sir, we need to get to the service station. There's one nearby and we'll be glad to take you there, instead of out...here. But are we going in the right direction?"

The old man made a frustrated sound, though he kept it low, his left hand becoming a fist around chest level, shuddering like the rest of his body. "Yes. Keep following the road and I'm sure you'll see the station. It's already jam-packed with too many people...I need a big place to think…"

"Thank you." She replies politely. "We can give you a ride back—"

This time, the old man reveals his frustration! His eyes widen and his mouth contorts angrily as he yelled at them, his fists up in the air. "Leave me alone! It's no use! No use! Who cares now, anyway, no one's listening! Not even that crazy young woman with her motorbike…" And from here, he continues to mumble to himself, turning his back to them and trotting off into the misty landscape.

Kat was about to undo her seatbelt, when Dante's hand reaches hers to stop her. She stares at him in utter disbelief as he shakes his head. "What?! Are you serious? That poor old man—!"

"—is gonna be safe." He clarifies right in front of Kat's bewildered face. "Can't you feel it? The minute we're here, the Sentience is completely different from Limbo's. There's not gonna be a demon out here that's gonna kill him."

She throws her hand in disbelief. "Okay, fine, yes, you're right! I can sense it's completely different and devoid of demonic energy, whatever! But are we just gonna ignore other factors, such as accidents and natural causes?"

With her already nonplussed, Kat is further astounded as he merely shrugs his shoulders at her and replies, "He wants an afternoon walk. He'll be fine."

"Okay, you know what—!"

"What?"

He waits for her answer, but all Dante can see is her peering out her window, craning her neck to look for whatever it is. "Kat?"

"Where'd he go?"

Sure enough, as he leans his head forward to peek out through her window, there was nothing there but the misty land and dark woods up ahead. He puts his head back to rest again as Kat is mystified as to where the old man had disappeared to.

"Look, if it makes you feel better," Dante suggests. "We can report him to Morrison's people at the service station. I'm sure they have his profile and they'll look for him. For now, we gotta go. We have a child-devouring, snake demoness to hunt, remember?"

She glances at him with a scowl, to which he simply stares back in his most lackadaisical manner, as she un-brakes the car and accelerates again. As minutes rolled by, Kat's temper simmers down. She glances at him again and sees his glum expression and posture, still weighed by heavy thoughts.

She, too, became immersed in her own thinking, as she judged their action previously. It wasn't because the place lacks anything supernatural; however, because of the difference in nature, it really would've been stupid of us to try to track down a strange old man in an unfamiliar landscape, especially if his trail goes deep into the neck of the woods.

She takes a glimpse at the woods, standing as a dark-green collective as silent observers of the world around them. As she reaches out Empathically, like how one dips a toe in the cold waters, Kat felt oddly being ignored or even shied away from; she can feel the presence of a multitude of beings living among every branch of trees and shrubs native to the land, yet they...flee from her! Suddenly, a cacophony of screeching and cawing sounds deafens her, as a flight of black crows circle around her, until they flew off and above the trees!

She retracts herself and concentrates on driving, unnerved at what she has found.

The mist shrouds what should be a sun-dappled countryside, showing the lush hills and trees that create a foreground against bright blue skies; and cottony-clouds behind towering mountains that frame the north of Wolfhaven, miles away from this main entry road. Instead, the mist and the cold veils the whole place, turning even a mid-afternoon as grey as possible and the outlines of tall trees, speckled by dotted silhouettes of birds flying, and soaring mountains looming on the horizon like foreboding creatures observing them. The road in front of her, once a smooth paved highway, gradually becomes a wide-gravelled path, winding like a gray snake on the dark green surface of the county.

With her energy both on driving and expecting any more surprises, her eyes settle on a curious sight: faint, collective outlines of large vehicles meters ahead, their headlights bright, vainly penetrating the mist. Leaning forward to peer at any road signs, Kat manages to find a bright green sign, as it darts from her view, then down behind her as their vehicle passes it!

It said: 'WELCOME TOURISTS TO ANGELAVALE! SERVICE STATION AND PUBLIC PLAZA 900 METERS AHEAD!'

They have finally arrived and the old man wasn't wrong; although 'jam-packed' felt like a euphemism as they got closer.

Sitting upright from his seat, Dante stares, dumbfounded, at the magnitude of the situation. "You remember what you said about asking locals and not wanting any nosy people on the motel?"

The whole service station and the tourist plaza just a few meters away, between a wooded park and an outdoor parking spot, is packed with utility vehicles—ambulance, fire department, law enforcement and military (certain types of tanks!), transport buses and privately-owned—and all swarmed by the people working from these respective fields and Wolfhaven's remaining two-hundred-thousand-plus townsfolk! And they can see it all despite still being more than 800 meters away!

"Yeah." Kat replies defeatedly. "I did. I jinxed it."

---

RochenmoreLake, Wolfhaven

Around 1500 hours; four days after Mundus' downfall

The lot of them have slept like rocks, yet, after waking up several hours later, the tiredness and fatigue remain in every step they took. The adults, not including her, have once been curious enough to want to investigate the parts of the castle; but she had implanted the fearful thought of running into something into one of those areas, especially the towers and gift shops on the outside parts of the castle; and that was enough for them to decide not to do so. Because despite the fact that spirits do haunt the old halls and stone walls of this place, the demons themselves can unexpectedly find them, despite her efforts and the appearance of two creatures that managed to heed her call. The commercial kitchen of the multi-purpose room yielded itself most useful, other than them scavenging it for supplies, as it does boast a professional layout for them to hygienically prepare their own food. The problem: only two adults can cook.

"Well, no time like the present." She told her fellow adept home-cooker, the bus driver, and some of the volunteering teenagers who do have a very good idea of cooking. It took them more than forty minutes to finally finish all the food they had wanted to cook and finally settle all of them to their plates, bowls and even to large pots and trays. Since a lot of them are children below ten years of age, many would likely be appalled at the idea of vegetables, although they didn't skip on these important ingredients.

The children and the remaining adults are relieved to find a feast was made, and that the aroma of three different meals had been brought out by a measly team of two home-cooking adults and savvy teenagers. And this, coupled with the light-hearted affair among their 95-member group of survivors, brings them hope.

There was a consensus that no one should leave the multi-purpose room without letting anyone know. The children are definitely not allowed, but the teenagers are advised that, if it would come down to it, a group of three may need to scout ahead. After filling their stomachs, the adults and teenagers devised different escape routes. Using the tourist map, they reviewed the emergency pathways that could lead them back to the school bus in the underground parking area for one getaway; they also decided that they could perhaps use the boardroom in the courtyard as another possible hideout.

"There is another passage. It's found in the wine cellar, which can be accessed by employees in the underground parking area." She tells them. "I have a friend who works here and he tells me that it is—was itself a secret tunnel, a part of an elaborate catacomb, that the tenants of this castle used to escape. It had also served as a sort of 'underground bunker' and its exit supposedly lies somewhere in the forest, at the east."

"This whole castle is surrounded by the lake, which by the way is frozen." One of the adults points out. "If we do use this tunnel, and since this was built underneath a fucking lake, that place is going to be freezing! We hardly have any warm clothing on us, it's the middle of summer!"

"I know." She replies darkly. "It's just one of our last options. The thing is, though, the entrance is actually sealed securely. If I could find some sort of key pass or the like, it will open."

There was an exchange of dreadful looks. A teen girl asks, "So...we're going to have to investigate? The whole castle?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Alright, we can keep discussing other options, as well as how we can fend for ourselves. Honestly, I can go on my own to try to locate the key. It's just an option, relax!" She assures them as they complained and gave her looks of horror.

As they continue to discuss their exits, they continued to look into their supplies and gear. But she was partially listening; she looks to one of the thick curtains, where she once stood to look out and observe the frozen world outside.

It had been less than nine or ten hours, but there was snowfall outside, accompanying the mist that veiled the ground and the trunks of tall trees. Their powers have grown and it's only a matter of time before the ones who have been abducted are truly dead. Lamia and her followers need nourishment, and much more so, after years of their empusai queen had to lie among abominable, malformed demons, as she likely had to sluggishly fight her way through the most low-level, squalid beings after her defeat from a barely eight-year-old nephilim. She scoffs at the thought; she finds it comforting that Dante has grown as well.

Her slithering demons have scattered away from the lake, for now, having been graced by the presence of a powerful pterripus, his aura alone too much for them to handle as they escaped fearfully! But what was surprising was that a tiny fragment of her power managed to summon the aralez himself! She had long thought that they had hidden in mountain tops, never to set foot again on human grounds and interfere! But there he is, sleeping comfortably on the southern side of the castle, next to one of its restaurants!

Her mind flew out to Touch the senses of the pterripus and she finds out that the creature, Pegasus, is flying back from its southwestern trip…

And inside, her mind is filled with what Pegasus has seen: black crows surrounding Angelavale, as evacuating ships and vehicles arrive; a dark, thick fog, frothing at Edenville's southern outskirts as a lone motorcycle pierces through it; and black smoke belching from a factory in the north, run by demons, and the screams of—!

"Ms. Clemence?" One of the teenagers exclaims as she—Ms. Clemence—clutches her face and groans in pain, stumbling backward and away from the table of tourist maps, food and gear. One of the adults catches her and makes her sit down on one of the foldable chairs.

"Hana, you okay?" One of them asks as she envelops her a thick blanket while two teenagers fetched them an aspirin and water. "Seriously, I think that's lack of sleep. You've been working too hard since...well, since Edenville."

Hana could only nod her head, still clutching her face, as if it had been burned. Her friend, one of the school teachers, gently pries away her hand and hands her the aspirin. She pops it in, more to comfort her human companions, than it will even work for her. Gulping down the water, her friend accompanies her in the corner as the children came to comfort them (while some tearfully cried out in distress, being shushed by some of the teenagers), while the three adults and some of the teenagers review the plans.

In Hana's mind, she sees one last vision from Pegasus: a lone sedan, making its way to Angelavale from Limbo City; in its passenger's seat, a young man looks out the window glumly.

Hana smiles…