Dec. 2022 update: There was a mistake regarding one character and we edited his occupation. That's it.
Hope you're well reader.
Chapter 5: The Sting of the Past
Vergil denied Dr. Arkham's offer.
Enlivened by the past, the two hunters prepare their plans for the future.
A year prior, Mundus' Dominion
Limbo Metropolitan University , Library
His trail is faint, like the thread precariously spun in this labyrinthine chase. But the ritual he had successfully done all those years ago in Fortuna City, when he baited his own black, ambitious heart for that foolishly proud demon to take and give him a Faustian deal; when he, a mere human, devoured the entity and took its' power..!
It had proved more than useful.
He is able to follow the scent of this particular Nephilim: young, highly-curious, quite delectable…
His shoes clacked against the smooth floor, announcing his presence to the young creature who's busy on the shelves of the library's Historic Archives section. But he ignores him as he nonchalantly rifles through the pages of one book, as Dr. Jonathan Arkham spoke:
"So, you're looking for the Book of Ancient Legends?" He queries the young creature, his footsteps coming closer. "Of two warring factions, of Heaven and Hell, of Eva and Sparda?"
The young man snaps the book shut and decides to put it back in its place, replying, "That's not what I'm looking for. Leave me."
He senses a threatening tone in his otherwise tranquil voice. Dr. Arkham could not help but smirk at the young creature before him: human in appearance, yet the power he exudes to remain Cloaked—to remain unseen and separate, as if another pocket dimension—is a bit amateurish for something that's supposed to be formidable. Still, he had been hidden from the Demon Emperor and his Court for the last thirteen years, so it must have surprised him that a human has broken through his spell and had found him.
He steps closer and closer. Dr. Arkham must admit that he is at awe to be at the presence of one of the most infamous creatures to roam this Realm. He asks, "Then what are you looking for?"
His eyes glance all over the University's library, a surface-level collection of feeble intelligence and gaudy decoration of its primitive 'technology'. If his research is correct, there is another library, the true one, the one hidden by a demon himself, who surprisingly enough was at odds with Mundus; it is hidden, of course, unless unlocked, unless answered. But with what, Dr. Arkham is yet to find out.
He continues to speak to the Nephilim: "Long ago, a powerful demon rose through the ranks and sought to conquer this Realm, to propagate his Court and enjoy the fruits of their violent labours. The angels decided to end his dominion by ending this Realm, deeming it necessary and recognizing its inhabitants irrelevant. A Seraph, however, came to mercifully end the earthly creatures and take their spirits Beyond out of pity. But her scythe clashed against an unknown entity, who saw hope and beauty among the beings who are in the middle of this chaos. Among these beings were the Nephilims, whose heroic feats rivalled that even of the highest demon or angel, or a god…"
The young creature remained stoic and quiet, ignoring him. As he strolls closer, the scholar's lips become a wider grin. "And from these two beings, the Seraph, now a Fallen, bore twin sons, carrying with them a burden, written more than nine thousand years ago…"
The young creature finally acknowledges his presence with a cool glare. His pale, electric-blue eyes stared at Dr. Arkham's heterochromia irises, one a faint blue-green, the other a brown, almost reddish, dully staring back. The scholar muttered, "That's the story, isn't it?"
There was only the song of an unsheathing blade from its scabbard, pointing its sharp tip at Dr. Arkham's face.
"Leave me." The young Nephilim tells him. "I won't tell you a third time."
But the scholar was unperturbed. He, instead, lifts his hand and pricks his thumb and forefinger against the elegant blade, as he spoke, "People inherently fear evil. But to fear continuously, without fortitude…" He steps closer and closer, his two fingers still at the sharp edges of his blade, dripping blood as he continued. "Without faith is itself evil. So, what they truly fear is the unknown, the uncertainty, regardless of consequence. And it's dangerous to be left content with such fear."
Admiring the young creature's face, he sees him relax and quirk a brow at him. With a graceful arc, the young creature takes his blade away from him and returns it sheathed in its scabbard with a snap. "Whatever you're getting at, I'm not interested."
That robbed the scholar of the grin he had on his face. Scowling, he says, "I can share with you what I know. You needn't look for it here. All I ask, you share with me your exploits. I am your servant."
But the creature's disinterest and that superiority in his minute smirk sent Dr. Arkham in a barely-leashed frustration. The young creature turns away to ignore the scholar but does spare him one last glance to tell him, "I already have servants. My success is assured."
As his footsteps go away, disappearing out of this room, the strange, black-hearted scholar fumed with indignation. Curiously, he turns to the book the young creature had been rifling before and sees its spine: 'Ancient Architects: Fortuna's Marvels.'
A realization hits Dr. Arkham. The University is older than anyone can fathom. He smiles contentedly, knowing that time will tell when the young creature realizes his mistake and has fooled himself with his arrogance.
Angelavale Service Station, Wolfhaven County
Around 1500 hours; four days after Mundus' downfall
They're here, they're close. Up ahead is the start of their mission and they couldn't believe it.
Because of the thick, grey mist, the vehicle lights up ahead, along with the streetlights and lights from the station, do their best to illuminate the southern outskirts of the town, creating shadows of human activity passing by. Slowing down to peer at the whole station, a throng of adults peered back at them, bottles of both water and liquor in hand, leaning against what could be their vehicles, their gazes suspicious. Kat did her best to look innocent and curious, and looked away, deciding it best. There were other people, carrying belongings and ordering what could be their family members to gather their supplies and trudge up to the service station; they didn't completely ignore the new sedan coming from the main city, but decided they have more important things on their minds.
As their sedan neared, Kat had to steer carefully, as some of the larger vehicles had been parked haphazardly. Making her way through, they spot three police officers walking by, seemingly coming from their right and now trotting up to the service station to the left of Kat and Dante's view, their dark uniforms a misty silhouette ten or so feet from them. Kat switches the car's LED lights, flicking it brighter momentarily before settling to a normal intensity. And that got the police's attention!
Dante's lips chortles a giggle as a few of the police jumped at seeing their sedan in the middle of the road, during an intensely misty, cold afternoon. Rolling her window down, Kat puts out her arm to wave at them; one officer approaches, as the rest of his group looks apprehensive. He appears to be the veteran, with his greying shadow around his chin and wrinkled, dark face. He looks stern and tired, one hand on his pocketed taser.
Kat spoke, "Officer."
The veteran cop's eyes widen in relief. "Oh! Thank the Eldritch Gods and whomever! Welcome to Angelavale."
He turns to his two younger lackeys and yells to them, "It's the backup! Do the Protocol now!"
And just like that, the two officers went running towards the service station, about to do what was their part of the plan. The veteran cop turns back to Kat. "Yes, Miss, we been waiting for you two. Name's Officer Alpin."
"Kat." She replies. "By the way, before we get to anything, on our way here, we met an old man just walking by the main road. He refused to come with us, to come back here."
"Oh no." Officer Alpin reacts and radios in the situation. He goes back to speak to Kat, "That senior was actually brought in by some of my group and the townsfolk walking by the northeast perimeter fifteen minutes before you arrived. Report says the old man was brought to them by a woman in a motorbike."
The two hunters exchange looks, remembering what the old man had been mumbling about. They've skimmed through her profile while they had been packing and, apparently, Mary Ann Battaglia is a bit of a daredevil when it came to her hobbies: motorbiking and customizing of her own bike, a highly-fit athlete of sports (gymnast as a kid and is currently a mixed martial artist), and—to Dante's eyes rolling after reading it—gun enthusiast and marksmanship.
"Now don't you worry!" The veteran cop tells them. "I don't think the old man is going too far off. That guy's a living fossil, literally! Now, for cozier matters, I'll say it's an honour to meet you two!" He adds with a smile; Dante nods appreciatively. "And just so you know, we'll do our best to do what you need. Don't be afraid to ask the cops around, though they'll be busy. Angelavale is packed, so please pardon the townsfolk if they say something you don't like. I know I heard things I don't like. It's this situation, you see, they're all antsy. Not too afraid, just very bored and eager to go, as you can already see."
As the cop entertained them with small talk, Dante's eyes roamed the area. Misty it may be, with enough focus, his sight can penetrate through the obstruction; he can see that the police and private cars, as well as motor vehicles, are all sandwiched together in the parking spaces, and even on nooks around the buildings and trees. Various townsfolk, mostly adults, are emptying their vehicles of their belongings and are making their way to a group of large tents, behind the whole service station. Varying sizes of utility vehicles seem to have been parked strategically, albeit hurriedly, around this small tourist area, effectively becoming active when needed. Dante wonders, however, how long these people are going to be stuck together like this.
Officer Alpin continues to give small talk, but his tone became somewhat sober. "Now, if y'all haven't been briefed yet, we also got another bad news: a group of survivors in Rochenmore—"
"Wait, how can that be bad news?" Kat exclaims with wide-eyes. "That's good news! Where did they say they're hiding? How many are they?"
The veteran officer's expression remains dark. "That's why I said it was bad news. They holed themselves up somewhere in Mallet Castle, a tourist and historical spot, in the middle of the town's lake. That place had been sighted as one of the heaviest infestations. We had their message early this morning and they haven't reestablished communication for the last ten hours or so."
The forlorn expression in Kat's face made the officer say "I'm sorry," as she slowly turns to Dante, whose dark expression mirrors that of Officer Alpin.
Dante, however, couldn't let this bad feeling be and pipes up. "We'll investigate the castle. Bring anyone or…anything back to their loved ones."
Glancing at Kat, her expression slightly shifts to comfort as she looks back at the officer. "Rochenmore should, at least, become free from those demons."
Somewhat comforted, Officer Alpin nods sombrely. "And that's good. I think that's good."
His radio crackles and a voice announces a free spot, supposedly designated near the motel. "We have number-one pulling out of the spot for the Guest Vehicle to park right outside the motel's main entrance."
"Copy," the veteran cop says. "Alright, you can park this bad boy here to where my buddy is. Just follow Sanders here, he'll be leading you to where it'll be."
"Thank you, Officer Alpin." And she drives up the gravelled path inside, with the same young officer in front of them, directing them towards the spot.
"I can't believe this." She murmurs, as her eyes scanned the vicinity. "There're still too many people."
"Hmph, wonder if the main town is overpacked." He replies. "There are theories that you can fit the entire population in a city as wide as 784 square kilometres."
"I can imagine people not wanting that to happen." She says with a shake of her head.
Because of the air conditioning unit not working, Kat shivers in her seat, puffing visible breaths, despite the thick blanket and jacket around her already. However, it was not only from the cold but from this powerful cadence brushing across her skin, giving her goosebumps.
"We'll get you some warm tea soon." Dante comforts her as he sees her teeth slightly chatter.
"Yeah, that's a good thought." She tells him but changes the subject. "Do you feel that?" She asks, glancing up at Dante. "The Sentience here…"
"Yeah…" He answers, but his sight is on another part of the station: across the gas station and parking area, and into the tourist plaza's buildings framed with trees, a cheerful pub stands brightly-lit. Although the mist hazes the whole place, the pub does stand out like a sore-thumb...or rather, had wrapped the mist around its cozily-pretty 'fingers'. "It's in there."
"It's powerful." Kat mutters. "Ugh...I have to 'switch off'. I don't want to concentrate on it."
Still staring at the cheerful pub, Dante does catch sight of something a bit odd: on the roofs of the tourist plaza buildings are numerous black birds, congregated so contentedly, hopping about or casually staring at the human spectacle below them. Some would fly off, but too many remains…
Okay, weird. He thought, as his brows furrowed.
As the sedan's headlights followed the young officer into the parking space, numerous eyes from the townsfolk follow them. With the windows not tinted, Kat's gaze remained on the officer, while Dante nonchalantly gazed out at the people, his eyes boring into each that gazed back at them—or on him—as some murmured amongst themselves. Kat would've scolded him to stop staring at them, but it was fruitless at this point; they're going to be the talk of the town.
Successful in parking it and sandwiched between two other private vehicles, the two hunters exit their car. On Kat's hand was a spray bottle of unknown liquid; as the two young officers approached them, Kat was spraying the interior with it as Dante looked on without a care nor explanation.
"Um, anti-hexing charm. In case some malevolent creature may be trailing us." Kat explains with a nod and beams at them, hopefully to break the ice. "I mean, obviously, the county is, um, going through with a lot of supernatural things...It's best to be just safe, you know."
Dante merely shrugs and nods along, knowing that Kat was protecting them despite the weirdness. The two officers exchanged looks and let it pass them with a wave of a hand and blasé smile as the four greeted each other: Officer Sanders, a freckled man, and Officer Carter, a woman with a tight bun, who pulled out a cop vehicle from the spot to save it for their arrival. Kat knees Dante for shaking Officer Carter's hand too long.
The policewoman grins at them. "It's a pleasure! We'll be leading you two to your room!" As she speaks to them, Officers Carter and Sanders help them in emptying the sedan of all their belongings. "We'll also brief you some things about the cops here and the, erm, certain people whose jobs require the need for the latest scoop. But we'll do that in the room. It's bug-free and the walls aren't as paper thin, so don't worry about being snooped on."
As they lay the large spinner bags onto the ground, and Dante and Kat have brought with them their carry-ons, the radios on Carter and Sanders crackles as Officer Alpin requests for Sanders' help. As the officer leaves, Carter shrugs her shoulders. "Likely about the old man you reported. Miss Arkham was the one who found him. He was muttering to himself, says something about a stolen journal, poor guy."
"Which direction did she go after dropping him here?" Dante asks.
The officer chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "North, northwest. The mist and her going off-road didn't help matters." Carter answers grimly. "Trust us, we wanted to track her, but just minutes after we got the old man tended, there were gunshots and…other sounds from the estimate direction she went. The sounds got farther along…The best consensus was to not engage, but that didn't mean leaving her to her own devices didn't eat us up."
"I'm sure it was better not chasing her," Kat says sympathetically.
"So they said." Carter chimed with raised brows. "They told us she's packing a rocket launcher. She could've committed friendly fire."
An annoyed flare of breath came from Dante as he muses what kind of person Ms. Battaglia really is and Kat shares the same thought.
Sanders, through her radio, cuts in. "Officers, we've found the old man. Saw him wandering around 200 meters from the nearest military carrier, southwest, over."
The two hunters' eyes meet, their brows furrowed. They had met the senile old man more than 900 meters awhile back!
Sanders reports again, ensuring the situation is under control.
"It's likely the old man slipped while the aid workers attended on someone else," Carter explains, although she herself looks unconvinced. "From what I know, he has seen...those things out there. Anyway, he's in good hands! The aids are mostly local folks and they've easily identified him! He's not gonna do a repeat of that."
As Carter stays with them to help with their luggage, they decided not to bring up another word regarding the odd elderly. Bringing their belongings out and handing the sedan's car keys to her, Officer Carter assures them they had reserved one room for them inside, second floor, of the motel. Although they are neighbours to a possibly large family, most of them will be moved to the main town of Angelavale soon; so there's no need to worry about socializing at all.
"So the town's able to provide that many people?" Kat asks her.
"If you mean room, yes," Carter explains. "However, aid and supplies have become numbered." She rolls her eyes at that. "They said the next has been moved via ship. The other freeway out of here had been congested, the one going to New Kali City. The ship is on Angelavale's port, going to the same city. The next one arriving is likely going to empty the town tomorrow and the lot here will be moving into the main town."
Hauling their belongings, the two hunters followed her into the motel, a typical and modest two-storey, gable-roofed, beige building; blocky and square, with the fire escape stairwells on its western walls and rectangular storm windows for each of its rooms. Dante's brow quirks at the name emblazoned on the front: Red Grave Motel. He didn't know if it was quirky or morbid...or perhaps both, to which he pondered the corporate officer's taste for such a name.
Entering the lobby, the two are bombarded with the reality that not a lot of people have been made to 'check in' to the motel's rooms. Many have pitched their tents outside, with even a giant marquee for medical services; but here, the floor is lined with sleeping bags and makeshift cots, with little room for a hallway or corridor to walk to, except the main path to the left wing, where the first/ground level rooms are located and likely bursting with those who needed the rooms (or had paid special favors, but who knows…). The only two elevators have been closed, with the stairwell the only path up and down. There must be a consensus that the disabled and elderly had been prioritized to remain in the medical marquee or with family on the ground level; that, and the possibility that more than half of them had been sent to the main town already, as most of the guests in the lobby range from teenagers to middle-aged, able-bodied, whispering and frowning at them.
Not oblivious but being tactful, Carter clears her throat loudly, which seems to make most of the townsfolk glance away. "You'll still need to check in to the reception's desk, though." Carter clarifies. "I'll go ahead and get these two bigger ones to your room."
"You sure you don't need assistance?" Dante asks, his hand brushing against the officer's as he picks up the larger and heavier of the spinner bags. Carter doesn't let his covert flirtation slip by. She looks at someone else for assistance on their other belongings, a staff of the motel, it seems.
"I can handle it. You're the guest." She says with a lopsided grin as she and the assisting porter take most of their bigger luggage. She adds in a whisper, "You and your partner need to watch it with these people. They don't know why you're here but they do know you, in particular. Keep your head low." And she goes up the stairs, with the porter taking a quick glance at them before rounding the corner upstairs.
He was already aware of the eyes and their murmuring, but there was little they can do about it. Soon, they'll know of the reasons, but for now, some of the townsfolk are uncomfortable, robbed of an opportunity to even a semblance of accommodation; some of them didn't get the memo and their staring is getting on his nerves. He stares back at them with a scowl. Her elbow on his stomach gets him wincing and looking away, this time to approach the receptionist, as Kat greets the person behind the desk. "Hello."
"Oh, h-hello! Yes, welcome to Red Grave Motel!" His heavy South Asian accent and very enthusiastic, if not stumbling, greeting was a sudden turnaround. He looks at Kat, then rounded on him, and Dante could swear he looked giddier when their eyes met. "We've been informed of your visitation and your room is made free of charge. Since the whole situation falls under the Natural Disasters Continuity Business Plan, any other services and shops will remain open until further notice."
"Oh really?" Dante asks with a quirked brow. "Isn't staff supposed to get evacuated, too?"
"Ooh, sir!" The receptionist's lips quirked into an even bigger smile. And if he wasn't mistaken, the guy actually looks joyful. "Th-that's so kind of you! Rest assured, the whole staff will be evacuated. Some are already with their loved ones in the main town. But you must understand, it is important, sir, that, erm, I and my brother must stay until there is an, er, shall we say an unforeseen event that could arise. We simply refuse to abandon this station."
As they exchanged curious looks, Kat and Dante do find this strange man a bit admirable. He glimpses at the receptionist's name tag: Aggi.
She asks, "It must be difficult, but you and your brother will be among the people, right, when they get moved to the main town?"
A kind smile spreads on his lips at Kat. "Oh, madam, if it worries you, be assured that we will be alright."
And with that, he types into the computer about their check-in and hands them the keycards on its slip-on envelope. "Please do not lose them, as they're still subject to being charged. If you have any questions—"
"Yeah, I have one." Dante chirps as he pockets his other copy of the keycard. "You said business is still open. What about the shopping plaza just across from here?"
The receptionist answers him curtly. "The gift shop remains open, although the dining we have converted it into one of the feeding areas for this refuge. As for the gas station and its convenient store, as well as another grocery store and a bank in the town plaza and, surprisingly, a beauty spa and a clothing store, they are open. The latter two and the grocery store are family-run, and if you have time, you can give them enough funding to help them get through this disaster. Lastly, a pub a little further from the plaza is also open, not shockingly."
"A pub…" Kat echoes with a grin, teasing him of any possible drunken adventures, as well as using that to investigate it.
"Only if they got good stuff." He retorts with a wink.
"Are there any other questions?" The receptionist asks, to which they said they're good. He bows, "Well, don't hesitate later and in the following days to ask! Now please enjoy your stay!"
They trudge up the stairs to leave behind the murmuring and scowls from the people below, only to replace it with new ones from the second level of the building. Most of the people have made themselves comfortable in the hallway, creating their own 'lounge area' out of the foldable and convertible seats, making 'pleasant' talk out of the afternoon. With the hallway narrow enough for at least two people to walk side by side, it was unlikely they aren't going to bump with the townsfolk who have already recognized them as strangers...well, a young, female tourist and her former social terrorist of a friend.
"Excuse me, sorry, coming through," Kat politely murmurs as she makes her way through first, sliding her body between these people, especially a few who are tall, and stepping over legs and feet that clearly aren't moving away. Dante, however, kept his gait long and his pace steady, keeping eye contact on some of the men whose shoulders are clearly obstructing them and sizing themselves against him. But he made neither quip nor a snarl; even as he goes through them, save for a dry grin at three of them that stepped in to block him momentarily.
"Let him through!" Carter barks as she stomps to where Dante is halted by three men. When they glanced at the officer, they reluctantly let him pass, their eyes coming to glare at him again. She gives them a disapproving look as she pulls Dante away from them. "Always something with grumpy men…" She mutters as she escorts him, ignoring the hissing gossip among the women, whispering scathingly at them with their male folk.
When they come upon their room's door, they both realized that theirs is sandwiched between two rooms, with the last one on their right facing southward. This meant that every time they come in and out, they are at the mercy of the townsfolk residing before and after them.
Perfect… Dante mused with annoyance.
The porter from before exits the room to welcome them, but he is accompanied by another man: he looks exactly like Aggi the receptionist..!
Except, he wears a different suit and a polished name tag is pinned on his suit's lapel, revealing his name. This must be Aggi's brother; twin brother, another neat surprise.
He instructs the porter to leave and turns to them, beaming, especially at Dante, and welcomes them all with a flourish. Officer Carter hurriedly beckons them all inside, however, as she is about to brief them.
"Close and lock it, if you have to," Carter tells them with urgency, as Aggi's brother locks the door, as she goes to the windows and pulls on the shutters to close. Kat flips open the light switches, bathing the whole motel room in its incandescent lights. Appreciating the simple decor, Kat muses how the tense mood contrasts so much with the baby blue walls and fluffy beds.
"Alright, what I'll brief you are four things: the snoops—the journalists—you shouldn't entertain, the team, the gear you can use and reports we have to compile." Officer Carter says, ticking each with her fingers.
"So, some of the journalists do have enough integrity to wear their ID's all the time, so you can easily avoid those. But some don't and will blend in, so please, ensure you're not talking within earshot of anybody. We'll sweep inside this room tomorrow again in case they dare bug your room. Moving on, the team is usually stationed inside the large marquee, at the west side of the tourist plaza, you can't miss it, okay? We're on shuffling schedules, so you'll see some of us going around the perimeter doing some work. Now, as for gear, we have a good amount of medical supplies and canned goods for your travels, as well as radios, batteries and power banks. As for going to places, we can escort you to the areas you need to get to."
At this, the hunters exchanged looks, disagreeing. Kat speaks up, "Officer, we apologize, but we can't bring anyone with us. Maybe to a certain point, but...we can't risk any more lives at this."
This time, Officer Carter and Aggi's brother exchanged looks, a gamut of expressions were worn as the policewoman reluctantly nodded. "I see."
"No offence," Dante says. "But you guys are gonna be in our way. We'll handle the demons. If we do need more help, then we'll radio you guys in."
A bit satisfied, Carter nods. "Fair enough. Now, we have a number of off-road vehicles at your disposal. But not for destruction, we hope."
Kat nods vigorously, but Dante chuckles at that. "We'll guarantee only one gets damaged."
The policewoman chuckled. "Cute. Okay! Last thing is you report to us any of your findings. Whether through radio, audio recordings, video footage, anything. These are important, not just for Wolfhaven and Limbo Metropolitan's intelligence. This is a compilation effort to share globally."
"We understand," Kat assures her.
Dante, however, has a mischievous grin on him. "So I get to talk to you? Tell you how it all went with my deep husky voice and my plans after the whole thing?"
He gets elbowed at the chest as Kat tries to divert the inappropriate topic. "We'll get you everything we can find. Although, we're drawing the line regarding Dante's...and Vergil's family issues. But if there's anything noteworthy, the personal ones are omitted."
Officer Carter nods. "I personally won't pry and don't need to know. Thank you, Miss Kat, Dante." She stares at him with this scolding look, which Dante affirms with a somewhat stern nod and grin. Satisfied, she turns to Aggi's brother. "Alright, sir, you can let them know about the accommodations."
The elegantly suited man gladly claps his hand as he gives them the rundown of Room 209. "I see that you're going to have the busiest time in your lives, so we've ensured this room is suitable for you! It's fully stocked with snacks and beverages, with a kitchenette for any meals you may cook. No foul ingredients or recipes please (to which Kat purses her lips uncomfortably, knowing her potion-brewing…), and if you need any dining ware, you may ask staff below for being provided for. The motel has free internet service, so feel free to surf at your leisure. Lastly, the laundry service remains free of charge. However, limit your laundry to a maximum of 10 kilograms. The motel is the only building that provides this, besides the shopping plaza across this service station. Any queries we can certainly answer, even via the phone line."
The man earnestly gestures his tag name with a flourish, pinned on his uniform. "My name is Shiv and you can speak to me of any concerns. Please enjoy your stay."
And with that, Kat gives him her thanks, and bows to her, then to all of them.
Dante chirps, "Pleasure, Mr. Shiv. Tell your brother and the rest of the staff our thanks as well."
He bows curtly again, beaming. "I'm glad we have been gracious hosts."
Dante grins back. He rather liked the twins, in comparison to their highly upset neighbours, especially since Aggi and Shiv are in charge of the motel.
As Shiv and the officer are about to leave, Dante makes one last flirtatious attempt to the officer, who only tells him, "If you behave," to which he nods in agreement, as they exit, with Officer Carter winking at him before closing the door after them.
"Oh, finally." Kat declares out of tiredness before collapsing entirely on her new bed. "I don't care about what the townsfolk are saying. I'm living with this nice bed."
Dante paces around the room, checking out their window (unsurprisingly finding that there are people ogling at them from below, with some snapping with their cameras) then pulling the curtains drawn again; the bathroom, the snacks on the kitchenette's fridge, flipping on the flat-screen TV, before settling on to sit on one of the armchairs and watch what's on.
"So after I'm done being too comfortable with this bed," Kat tells him, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it close. "What say we go out to the bank and get those special coins exchanged for some real money? Then go shopping for those supplies, huh? And maybe check out that weird pub, hm?"
She glances up from where she lies and waits for any complaints or otherwise. But all Dante did before replying "...yeah, sure," was to turn off the TV and slumps a little lower on the armchair. Flipping onto her stomach, Kat observes him, his back to her, as he sighs, weighing his words.
He says as he rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry for my melodrama, Kat. I'm in such a bad mood and I've been trying to shake it off."
She scoffs. "You weren't in a bad mood with Officer Carter…or with Officer Therese."
"Hehe, like I said, trying to shake it off." Dante chuckled dryly as his cheeks turned pink, before gradually standing up from his seat.
"Are you ready to tell me? What you and Morrison talked about?" She asks as he goes to the kitchenette. Peeking inside the kettle and taking some tea bags, Dante prepares two mugs for them.
"Before that, we should make tea."
Kat smiles and jumps up from the bed. "Yep. Agreed."
A few minutes later, they sit comfortably on the two armchairs they've dragged to face one another, with a foldable table in between them. Two mugs of hot tea and an open bag of cookies are set before them.
After Kat takes her sip, she reluctantly goads him to talk. "So…"
Dante sets his mug down after sipping from it, wrinkling his face as he puts his tongue out after scalding it. Smacking his lips to recover, he starts, "So, I learned he's their newest recruit. And youngest, pfft."
Ignoring the fact that Dante had made fun of Morrison's age, she urges him to continue. "Well, okay! Is that really why you asked me if I trust him? You think him being new makes him, I don't know...not as experienced?"
He sighs heavily. "No. Okay, look, I don't trust him because he had kept himself a secret, but I get it. There was a time the Vie De Marli aren't in their glory days anymore. I guess, I said I don't trust him because of my own frustrations…okay, I'll just start from the very beginning."
"It started with a ritual murder case, in Fortuna City, thirty years ago." Morrison had told him. "The locals have dubbed it the Wych Elm Massacre. I was only a constable then, called in to do the work. As months rolled by without any answers, I went back to the place because I was dissatisfied. And that's when I met them. Even before I was inducted, I had helped the Vie De Marli. Quite the newbie I was."
And so, Morrison recounted. From what Kat had known, he works as the Vie De Marli's spy into the police system of Limbo City, and that Vergil had indeed once met him while he was still under their wing. From how Vergil had painted his character, Kat surmised Morrison to be untrustworthy and is slowly being corrupted by the system he works for. However, after delving deep into the archives and Vergil's diaries, it appears he had transformed the narrative for his own gains. Gaiman Morrison, a mere human, who once wanted to reinvestigate a case when he was still a humble constable in Fortuna City, would have his courage tested—and prevail—when the case would lead him to the Vie De Marli.
"I've compiled in a hard drive all of Dr. Arkham's research notes, as well as the evidence we've compiled against him if and when he stands trial." Morrison discussed. "But as a summary of what he did, and how this connects to what I did, this is the theory, the one I want to talk to you about. Do you know of the Sky Tower?"
Dante flinches. Deep in his subconscious, something stirred…an image of an old, fat tower, crumbling, its gaping windows staring eternally—
"I think, in one of Kat's tomes. But I can't recall." Dante replied as he hoped his disquiet didn't surface through.
"That's okay, you've read a lot already." Morrison reassured. "Anyway, the Sky Tower goes by many names, but it had two purposes: at first, it had been a congregation of sorts for all peoples of this world in ancient times, like a convention. Lastly, however, it became the place for a sacrifice, where your father Sparda himself gave his power to create a portal and whisked away thousands upon thousands of innocent people away from the Ancient War, eventually falling into destruction. As the portal closed, his power sealed away the land and its people, away from the encroaching demons and angels as the battle raged on."
A puzzled look washes over Dante's face. "Okay, the part about my dad doing that, I knew, through Verg's diary. But you said Mundus' empire was allowed to rule here, as part of a 'peace' treaty, whatever that is. How's he gonna rule—"
"If he has no subjects?" Morrison finished. "Well, the thing is, not everyone made it. There were some who had been left behind did so of their own accord. They remained as the gatekeepers to this day. The identities of such gatekeepers, I am not made privy of."
His brow furrowing at the imagery of countless people still trapped here to provide for Mundus' empire and his Court, Dante shakes his head and finds another topic. "Gatekeepers...and you think Arkham knows who they are? Or he could just use my brother…? And together, they'd summon the Sky Tower."
"That's part of my theory, yes." The older man answered with a nod. "And I believe Dr. Jonathan Arkham has been researching this for years, maybe his entire life even, and then decided to apply what he learned and committed many types of homicide. I mean, if the collection we had confiscated from his office and apartment weren't a dead giveaway already."
Dante nods, recalling. "I've read about that Wych Elm case, a long time ago, while I ventured to Fortuna. Despite its gruesome nature, it wasn't the most highlighted news, especially with Barbas in charge of journalism." He rolls his eyes at mentioning the demon. "Some ghost hunting folk would even talk about how they likely spoke to the spirits of those who got killed in the Wych Elm Massacre. So, you were a constable in that city, before being moved to Limbo?"
The commissioner nodded and explained. "Yep. I was called in to investigate this property, in a rural part of the suburbia. Found that local authorities were already there, with the loitering teenagers being questioned. They found out about it because of the smell. The victims had been tied up in complicated knots with rope, then stuffed to the wych elm trees surrounding the old property. Another odd thing was that, the trees themselves were analyzed to have been burning during the killings. However, the trees retained there moisture and are considered live trees, meaning they remain in the condition as if they hadn't been burning. But there were dry wood and tips of branches indicated that they did set on fire, and then extinguished itself. Furthermore, the bodies themselves never burned, either, and remain in its usual decomposing state. Lastly, that place was supposedly privately owned, but the person we looked up to turns out to have deceased four months prior and had not indicated to whom the old property was supposed to go. Currently, it had been donated to the government and is turned into a memorial for the victims and their loved ones."
"Convenient." Dante says after chewing his lip thoughtfully. "He knew a place to do it and…then what? What did he achieve by killing these people?"
"A lot of people were wondering the same thing. They thought a cult had done this, trying to find a pattern through the victims; their profiles, their backgrounds, the people the victims are close with…None. And the perpetrator, or perpetrators, as we once thought? No trace whatsoever. It was a clean getaway, save for the mutilating and torture methods. Forty-four victims in total." The commissioner shrugged his shoulders dispiritedly, as if he was there again, a haunted look glazed over his hazel eyes. "Most were vagabonds with blue-collar, part-time jobs, while some were young adults who weren't even locals, and a few older people, identified to have been devoutly religious and congregated at Duomo di Fortuna at scheduled masses."
The grim expression on Dante deepened. "So how long were the police stumped?"
Morrison scratched his neck as he tried to recall. "Eh…a month or two. Evidence was collected and the property was cleaned before they could lift its cordon. No luck. Felt like they just went there to clean the place up and, after autopsy, hand over the bodies out of respect. That got me frustrated and I bet so were the victims' loved ones. Months roll by some more and it was declared a cold case. I volunteered to have it reinvestigated, but it got denied. So, I decided to go back myself. And that's how I met Phineas, in the basement, begging for help."
His eyes round, Dante leaned on his chair. "Excuse me?"
"He was the first one I met. The Vie De Marli were there, too, investigating the place as well." Morrison added. "It wasn't a pleasant first introduction between us. But I helped them, because I wanted to know who was behind all this. According to their investigation, it was a summoning and a Faustian ritual, hence the ritualistic killing. But something went wrong. Phineas being there was the result of him being 'blinded', his eye taken."
Dante swallowed. "So that's how he lost his eye. Because of a human…"
"Yeah, well, Phineas may have remained a convict under Mundus' law, but that didn't mean he can't ignore the more unbreakable Primordial Laws. Plus, the Vie De Marli had been abusing loopholes and circumventing the 'law' just to contact him from time to time."
"Wait, so, what's Arkham's supposed to gain after summoning Phineas?" Dante asks. He feels the whole thing becoming convoluted. "Surely, Phineas would never conspire with him?!"
Morrison shook his head. "No, it wasn't Phineas he summoned, no, no…You see, Phineas was harassed by another demon, someone within Mundus' Court. He took Phineas' eye as part of the deal, in exchange for the forty-four souls. The thing is, after we got Phineas a new eye, through him we found out that Mephistophilus, the demon, was unsuccessful."
Another hard swallow, Dante asks, "What do you mean?"
Sniffing, Morrison brushes his nose before speaking, "Dr. Arkham…lied to the demon, simply put. He, uh…he devoured the demon himself."
A mask of horror washes over Dante's face as Morrison nodded, assuring him that was exactly what the Vie De Marli and Phineas had found out, through his Eye. "…So is Dr. Arkham…What is he now?"
Morrison's gaze remained on Dante as he twiddled with his sapphire-blue rose-shaped ring. "Well, according to the scriptures I read, such an unholy ritual itself would transform the human already, the soul damned to become a property in that demon's domain. But the demon himself was…well, there's no demon to take Dr. Arkham's soul! I guess it's the other way around now and if there ever was such a reversal of roles before, it had never been recorded. Of course, the esteemed professor has managed to get away this long, hiding himself with his knowledge of magic—which is disturbing—now combined with his new demonic ones. So yeah, not even Phineas could track him, specifically, but we managed to trace the last moments of Mephistophilus, hence how we realized he was even devoured in the first place."
A shiver ran across Morrison before continuing. "But with some of the forensics and evidence I've compiled over the years and cross-referencing with the Vie De Marli's archives, me and Alice managed to identify a Dr. Jonathan Arkham as the likely culprit. Since he not only was a Fortuna City resident, his scholarly works and even the schedules he goes with are the likeliest with the profile we thought of. We also came to that theory, about the return of the Sky Tower and the probable plan Arkham has as to why—"
"Hold on a sec!" Cutting him short, Dante's horrified expression gives way to frustration. "Okay, maybe because the police didn't bother to identify Dr. Arkham because you were all under Mundus' system. But really, why didn't the Vie De Marli do anything? You helped compile enough evidence against this thing and yet, he's still free?! And he is now partnered with my brother!" Dante's frustration mounts as high as his own voice when he speaks. "And…wait, for over thirty years he had been killing after the Wych Elm Massacre! Again, why didn't the Vie De Marli stop this guy? You guys focused on a lot of demons, while this guy bided his time doing the most unholy shit! And what about his wife and daughter?! If he's some kind of hybrid because of Mephisto-shit inside him, then his daughter's a—no, NO! No, no, no, no way!"
Too shocked to even voice the possibility, Dante zeroes in on one last thing: "And who's Alice?"
The commissioner's whole demeanor is calm, opposing Dante's frustrated visage, as he clarifies. "If you remember, the Vie De Marli's numbers had been waning and Arkham had been very careful with his activities. They were even reluctant to have me join them, but with my connections and resources, they saw it fit enough. Investigations take time, although I'll admit, the Vie De Marli had underestimated the culprit or had never imagined a human to become this so obsessed." There was an apologetic expression on Morrison's face. "So on behalf of these slip-ups, I'm apologizing in their stead."
There was still dissatisfaction written all over Dante's face, but his temper does simmer down.
With that, Morrison continued. "And on another slipped tangent, Alice was one of the members whom I first met after I saw Phineas. She was very distrusting of me, of course." A grin even comes up on the older man's face; sweet, nostalgic…and Dante realizes, as he gazes at Morrison's ring, still being twiddled by his fingers, the connection and the importance of it. Morrison continues, "But it changed when she saw I wasn't going to let things slide, especially after such an atrocious crime. I guess she found me charming about that."
Dante remained quiet, still gazing at his ring, with its blue rose head winking dully inside the cargo van's lights.
The commissioner continued as his tone became stoic. "Dr. Arkham was quiet for almost a decade after, but of course there was a lot of missing John and Jane Does in Fortuna and Wolfhaven, so you can probably make an assumption. This is probably to, um, satiate his demonic side, but even this is an assumption. We do not know the physiological makeup and the consequences of what Dr. Arkham did to himself. Now, about the rest of the theory regarding the Sky Tower's purpose for its return…
"I have told you about the gatekeepers, those who chose to stand with Sparda to complete the portal and reseal it. However, according to scriptures from the creator of that weird key Phineas gave you, Surgat had taught his pupils a lot of his techniques and enchantments when it came to 'locking' entryways. His pupils ranged from architects to ancient mathematicians, and even puzzle-makers and artisans. The Sky Tower is not going to yield itself its secrets even when it's summoned."
Dante replied, "So me and Kat may be able to catch up. We might find these 'locks' and prevent the Sky Tower from opening."
Clearing his throat, the grimness on Morrison's face shadowed deeper. "That's the thing. What if…what if it's meant to be summoned, Dante? I mean, with all the things Arkham has done and the fact that neither Heaven nor Hell have even summoned this Tower back! Why now?" He lifts a hand to gesture, along with his hazel eyes, his height of intrigue. "What if the Sky Tower could create another portal, or perhaps the two of them are trying to take out all of its secrets for theirs to have?"
"And what would those be?" Dante asks, his tone uneasy.
"That," Morrison answers with a shake of his head, "I believe Vergil knows and for you to find out."
Dante makes an acidic scoff. "Great, back to square one." He gazes at the floor, dejected that Morrison's theory is dependent on him clarifying his own mysterious dreams, dreams he can't even remember quite well.
Oblivious or perhaps deciding to continue out of importance, Morrison discussed. "Alright, well, as for his daughter, we have never really personally met her, but since our suspicions of Arkham, the Vie De Marli did watch over her and remain conclusive about any, if at all, a supernatural occurrence or symptom from her. She's overall a human and had never reacted to Limbo's Sentience. And this is saying much, because she studies at this city's University, at the heart of it even. She would've been as sensitive as Kat if she had any abilities and realized she was being spied on by the Vie De Marli or by a demon."
Nodding, Dante takes a deep breath before saying, with annoyance, "Yeah, well, I can't guarantee if the professor's gonna live long enough for a trial. I'd be happy to help on his autopsy instead!"
Morrison's face crinkles into a chuckle. "Oh, wow, that would be satisfying, knowing how his body is after he had integrated Mephistophilus! But still, having him back here to answer for his crimes is still significant."
Shrugging out of agreeing to disagree, Dante began to summarize the discussion. "Okay, so they're gonna summon a Sky Tower and do God knows what with it," Dante reiterates with a blaze in his eyes. "And either Vergil or Arkham are gonna probably throw the other guy away after he's done using him…Hmph, yep, okay, I think Vergil's gonna throw Arkham to the sharks and that's where I swoop in. Hopefully the professor's just a bit banged up, but well enough for a trial, I guess."
"You need to watch out for his daughter, too." Morrison adds darkly. "She's lost her mother to her own father, who she's finding out is quite unhinged. If you have read her profile, Mary Ann Battaglia is likely on a one-woman army against her father."
"Bring down my brother, save Mary and nab the mad scholar for trial," Dante lists down. "Got it."
"Alright, next, the lullaby." Morrison says, his voice becoming laid-back, to which Dante tried to react indifferently. Deep down, the lullaby is something he was apprehensive about.
"My wife, Alice, she taught me the song. And this ring, it didn't look like this when Alice first forced me to wear it, ensuring I don't betray them." He says as he glances at his ring and managed a jovial chuckle. "Said she can spy on me through it! Haha! Over the years, Alice herself proposed for my induction, their newest one over half a century later! And their youngest, it seemed! I guess that clues you in how old most of the Vie De Marli are! So this ring is symbolic and very personal to me, as is your pendant."
"Where is she, your wife?" Dante asks. Morrison studies his face and realizes that there is still a lot to unpack, a lot for Dante to know.
Taking a deep breath, he recounts inside his head what he had explained already, and then proceeds to expound in a gentle tone. "Remember when I told you that there was a world your father sealed away and that world is teeming with people? You see, the group of people that remained here can communicate with them, as they never lost this 'connection'."
As he said that, Dante's eyes become round, his fingers reflexively reaching for his red pendant. Morrison continues, "These people, as well as the ones from the other side, formed the Vie De Marli centuries ago. Some people from the 'other world' found a way to cross back to this Realm, fought along with Sparda secretly and saved as many of the creatures and beings as they could from Mundus' Court and his subordinates, hence the origins of the Vie De Marli. But the demons weren't their only enemies."
Still clutching his pendant, Dante replied. "The angels."
Nodding, Morrison expounds further. "Your mother's induction came at a later date, actually. And her rebellion was only ever known by her most trusted Plain Ones, lower ranking angels, mostly depicted as the ones who do help the earthly creatures, who are sympathetic. Humans, as well, being earthly creatures…"
Deep in thought, Dante's mind naturally wandered back to that time, when his home was suddenly ravaged…
Plain Ones…
Something stirred inside Dante's mind and it stung! He snarls as images in his mind's eye flashed before him—!
"Dante! What in the world?!" Morrison's panicked voice wakes him from his delirious reverie! With clarity coming back to him, Dante finds himself sprawled on the floor, in a cold sweat but his skin flushed in a fevered heat! His heart rate is going kilometres ahead of his body, thudding against his chest as he tries to calm down!
He muttered, "W-what…the angels…"
Helping him off the floor, Morrison grunts as he wraps the young man's arm around his shoulders to half-drag, half-carry him to another chair. "Oh man, need to work on my weight training. Okay, here you are." He carefully settles Dante on a swivel chair to sit on and observes him. He places his palm on Dante's forehead and, brows furrowing, becomes concerned. "Well, your forehead's really perspiring and you're breathing erratically. Here, let's take that coat off."
As the older man tugs on his collar, Dante's hand reaches on his forearm to stop him. "No…I'm getting fine."
Morrison shook his head. "Kid, you suddenly jolted from your seat and went into some kind of convulsion! That's not 'getting fine'."
But the young man was adamant, shaking his head, huffing a deep breath against his complaining, beating heart and maintaining his grip on Morrison's forearm. "No. Please, Morrison. I—!"
He groans, scrunching his face shut as he grits his teeth, the stinging inside his head coming over him in waves. He didn't dare finish his sentence as he let his mind do the talking!
He remembers it plain as the day they arrived on the mansion. His mother was screaming their father's name as she huddled him and Vergil to that corridor, trying to access a secret passage…
"Eva, you traitor. How could you?"
Dante remembered how his mother defended them against a blindingly-white entity, while another pair of arms scooped him, as Vergil was scooped by another; both of them whisked away from the scene, cradled protectively…
The world had changed before him, shifting in this blood-red atmosphere as the cackling, tall silhouettes inched closer inside the halls of their beautiful mansion home. A soft murmur against his cheek, the one who protectively scooped him away, told him he will be fine and that he will not remember this nightmare at all, before being handed to his father—!
"Sparda, you traitor, but that is expected of you."
The figures and faces of his mother and the Plain Ones are clear, or as clear as his memories can detail, yet his father's, his visage, is always a blinding light and a sting inside his mind!
Groaning and sweating coldly, Dante pushed through the pain as his mind recollected these events…
The angels—Plain Ones, his caretakers—flew him and Vergil out of the mansion, together with his father, as he takes the two of them to a vehicle! There were people—humans—who were going to take them away from the place he had grown up in! He remembered panicking and crying, throwing a tantrum, calling for their mother…
It wasn't fair how the Plain Ones were allowed to go back to the mansion and support Eva, against these monsters that invaded their secret paradise…
But how is it a 'secret'? How did they know?
He had struggled out of the arms of one of the people that whisked him inside the back seat of the vehicle and had run back! Back to the blood-red atmosphere and the strange silhouettes; the clashing sounds of metal, the loud agonized screams, the tearing of something raw and the sound of warm liquid splashing and dripping down to the floor—! He ran back, but this time to a corridor where there was something louder, something that made his skin crawl and his hair stand in terror!
"Because of your sin and your defiance of the Laws, we allow the Emperor of this Realm to see fit your punishment!"
"NOOOO!"
He recalls his father's embrace and a low voice coming from the most monstrous of them all, his forehead sporting a tattooed third eye, his physique imposing…
He recalls terror and wrath mixing so well together…
"The caretakers…the Plain Ones…" He swallowed before Dante continued, ignoring his parched throat. "They were killed by their own. I didn't know it then…I didn't know they were also angels, Seraphs, right next to Mundus' own legion of Hunters. They burned bright, like a fire up close…it makes sense now…but their armor and their faces…you wouldn't be able to know."
Morrison nodded, his expression sympathetic, wiping his forehead with his own handkerchief. There was still a shiver wracking his body and a stinging inside his head as Dante rested.
He had wondered these four days, while he rifled through the mission logs and the bestiary tomes, how Mundus had even found them in the first place. Back at the mansion, after he had recovered a partial strand of his memories, all he was ever grateful for was a reason to take vengeance, the proof that there were people who did care for him, and that he hadn't dreamt up those illusions of a red-haired woman whispering…
"I love you, Dante."
But after realizing Vergil's two-facedness and his attitude towards their victory, the human race and their supposed 'birthright', he was beginning to question the aspects of that fateful day. He had been so enamored with vengeance and his newfound company that he hadn't bothered, until the downfall of hell's most successful conqueror and a former-millionaire-now-rogue nephilim.
Just how? Did the angels, these high-ranking ones, trail his mother to this Realm, becoming suspicious of her activities? But she wouldn't be careless, now, would she? After centuries of secrecy, did she let herself slip, already with twin sons and a prominent member of a centuries-old league?
But what about his father? He had been a secret revolutionary, under Mundus' iron grip, for thousands of years. Was he traced back to their home? But how did he let it slip? Did Mundus' Hunters merely tracked him? Or were they tipped?
And the dead Plain Ones? Where are their bodies?
Why am I reacting like this? So what if a puzzle piece of a memory came back? I shouldn't feel like this at all! Was there something missing…or incomplete—still incomplete…?
His mind's eye seem to unveil a perpetually-sunrise-lit pink-blue skied place, a place with crumbling architecture all around him, surrounded by a vast, glimmering sapphire-colored ocean; and standing proudly and magnificently in the middle of it all is a giant statue, arms outstretched, its old face gazing back at him, his stone-grey eyes blinking bright-white…
His eyes glazed from this cold stinging pain needling through his brain, his eyes slowly staring at the ceiling and at the interior of the cargo van, until his sight rests on Morrison, who remained sympathetic and observant.
But in this tense quietude, Morrison clears his throat, opens his mouth and, despite the off-key start, the familiar melody fills the silence, accompanied by the lyrics Dante had half forgotten:
"Here in your cradle
Dream of a world
World of softness
And loving joy
Here in your cradle
Imagine a world
A world of flowers
And songs of welcome…"
Morrison's voice can never detract him from the crystal-clear memory of his mother singing to him the song, the lullaby, sung so many times since he could form words and tried to imitate her…
As his gravelly, off-tune singing came out of his lips Morrison kept on going, putting aside a hint of embarrassment as he tries to comfort the young man, still pale and unenergetic. But in the middle of the lyrics, he became concerned again when Dante straightens himself up on his seat and opened his mouth to join in on the lullaby. And Morrison couldn't believe the platinum-spun voice that came out of the young man!
"Here in your cradle
Know you are Love
Beauty and Strength
Pride and Soul
Here in your cradle
For now so small
Soon so strong
The world your witness
Here in your cradle
Safe and sound
Storms and seas
Lands and Mountains
Here in your cradle
Fly above and soar
To the clouds or
Dive deep in ocean's blue…"
Coming to the last verses, the melody changes, climbing to the climax of its message. Lowering his voice to let Dante sing, Morrison is in awe at the pretty yet weighted tenor quality of his voice. In all his studies about the supernatural, the Nephalem had been among who were feared and revered equally during their Golden Era, and he wondered (or perhaps, concluded) if their acumen and talent for other non-combative fields had anything to do with the various proliferation of stories about them.
He can also see how Dante's state seems to improve. His pallid color gradually slides back to normal. He also seems determined to finish the song and so, he let him.
"Here in your cradle
For now here by my side
But soon you will
Far from my reach
And soon away
Away from your cradle
Wake to a world
World of Truth
World for you."
He concludes the lullaby in a deep whisper, a different note from the usual higher melody Morrison was accustomed to. He notes the disquiet sadness in Dante's eyes as he remained silent. There were seconds of nothing but their quiet breathing as Morrison reads his expression, gradually finding the right second to speak. In a soothing voice, he replied, "My wife, Alice, she's safe on the 'other world'."
His silence melts into pity. Dante asks, "So why didn't you go with her? Why stay?"
"Heh. She asked the same thing, I think. There was a time the Vie De Marli were deeper in their despair. I can say that Vergil's insurgency had a hand to it. But our leader remains hopeful." Morrison assured with a grin. "It's been years, though. I stayed in her stead. I stayed to see this through, decided to lie low along with the others who stayed, as the Order took on the spotlight. Maybe we were going to be proven wrong, our old secretive ways ineffective. But it was you and Kat who proved us wrong."
Despite his recovering state, Dante manages a grin.
Smiling, Morrison pinches the top of his nose and groans wearily. Then sheepishly looks back at him. "Forgive me if I sung off tune. I was hoping it might make you better…You mind telling me what happened?"
Pursing his lips into a tight line, he tells Morrison of how his mind had been wiped of certain memories by his own father, as a sort of mental and emotional protection from the events. Unfortunately, his rescue had not gone down as planned; the next thing he can recall was being an orphan in Lamia's orphanage center, a front and place where Dante had been a 'favorite' subject. Now that he had been recollecting his memories, a stinging headache had occurred when he remembered the Plain Ones; his strange dreams have also manifested, though he has not figured out their message.
"I see." Morrison replies, half fascinated and concerned. "Vergil's memories came back a little faster, but I supposed that has something to do with being under the Vie De Marli's care. Your father did what he did not only to protect you, but it appears that he has a plan, or rather, a test, regarding a growth of character. That's what Vergil had concluded with his when he summoned Yamato."
"So that's why, when I was little, I got Marked on my upper back," Dante replied. "And Rebellion came for me. The sword was…is a part of my growth. But then, that just feels too convenient. There could be more, I mean that's why I just had that headache and I can't even remember my dreams." Concluding there, his expression becomes grim. "Mom and dad, they've been at this for centuries. How did the demons and angels even storm our place? Did someone betray us—?"
He didn't finish the question as his wrath unexpectedly bubbled over, making his hand curl into a fist. Morrison's face becomes sorrowful. "That, kid, that one I can't even succeed in finding out. After years of weeding out anyone within the group, Alice and I couldn't find any possible traitor. We had dropped the investigation in hiatus, even now. I'm sorry."
Dante shakes his head, disagreeing, and, for some reason, his complexion gradually becomes pallid again. A stinging pain needles through his mind and he scrunches his face. Morrison exclaimed concernedly how he needs to stop moving or jerking any body part of his, but Dante lifts a hand to assure him he's okay. "No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't trust you. I can't trust you in doing everything for us…or for me. And I'm sorry…I'm sorry I was being difficult to the Vie De Marli. But it was too late…"
His eyes widening, Morrison's face softens as he gazes at the young man before him, burdened with the heritage he never asked for; piled with years of isolation, abuse and trauma, confused and alone, surviving and relying only with his self to pull through. And yet, the young man hides beneath his hardened exterior a golden, if not a weeping, heart. "Oh Dante…"
He shakes his head again, groaning, "Don't pity me. I…I'm gonna be fine." As he says this, Dante prepares to stand up. Still a bit ashen and ill, Morrison helps him off his chair, steadying his gait as he stands.
The commissioner claps his hand on his shoulder, nodding in confidence that he trusts Dante enough to be well. He even starts humming the opening of the lullaby again, to which the young man even chuckled at. But at a glance, Dante's color and overall well-being is gradually normal again.
"You have a beautiful voice," Morrison compliments.
The young man's small grin drops into a sombre line, however; not the expression Morrison was expecting. "My mother…did she teach that lullaby to your wife?"
Nodding without an answer, Morrison sighs.
Slowly and carefully, Dante heads to the door to exit the cargo van with Morrison beside him to make sure he doesn't sway and fall down again. Turning to the commissioner one last time, Dante says, "Go see your wife soon. Okay?"
With only a silent nod and, at least, a small smile, Morrison pulls open the door for him to leave…
"The Sky Tower!" Kat's eyes are round in wonder and fear. "We read that passage, about how Sparda sealed the other world, or other Realm, with his powers! So I guess that's why Phineas would describe this world as 'this Realm', as a sort of distinction from this secret paradise. And he said 'creatures' and 'peoples'! That means this world is teeming with more than just humans! Humanity was never alone!"
"Yeah." Dante answers with anxiety in his tone and his eyes. "Vergil was there, on this other world...and if he wins...he'll—no. We won't let whatever it is he wants done to happen, especially with that crazy asshole helping him."
Her eyes remain as round as saucers, she asks, "Do you think...we could go there? After this? Maybe that's what they have wanted for you…"
She felt like she should've never opened her mouth regarding that as she studies his forlorn face. She can see regret swimming in his eyes, but he says, "So all these years, I could've been living there, left this 'Realm' behind and not have to—"
"You didn't know!" Kat cuts in to soothe him, shaking her head fervently. She understood the feeling of missed opportunities, the kind that presented itself so willingly and genuinely, and yet one refused it, either out of suspicion or sacrifice, thinking it all futile. "It's not your fault! Vergil may not have wanted to show you the truth, all of it. What you went through...it's—"
"I know." He replies, his tone dismal, his eyes colder than the color outside and full of an emotion Kat didn't want to identify. She can feel her own tears at the edges of her eyes, and so wiped them quickly and took her mug of tea.
He chuckles humourlessly, but not spitefully; but his dry grin and absentminded look towards the window imply an inward bitterness.
When she settles her mug to the table again, Kat picks up a cookie to nibble on the edge, awkwardly savouring the uneasy repose. She notices he had hardly taken a swig of his tea nor even touched one cookie. She clears her throat before speaking. "We...need to get things going, then. We should also review the evidence notes and Dr. Arkham's files. We have a theory on their intentions, besides the fact we already have a target in Rochenmore."
She observes him taking a deep breath, hitching midway, as if suppressing the luxury of breathing, before slowly glancing at her. "What about you?"
She responds in silence, cookie in hand, actually unsure what his question meant.
"What about your family? I'm sure they're less crazy than mine." He says with a sheepish grin.
And it's here Kat's brow furrows together. "Well...I'm sure you know my stepfather."
"Before that," Dante says, changing his position in the armchair to lean closer. "Your family. I'm sure they were better...I mean, it's a bad assumption. Do you remember them?"
She remains in this ruminative expression, gradually putting the cookie down as she struggles to find the words for her answer. "I...don't remember much. I don't think it was from Vergil's spell, but more from...likely from the 'treatments' they gave us in the child center where we were and what my stepdad continued to give me when I was growing up."
"I'm sorry." Dante quickly says, regretful.
"It's okay." She mumbles, her brows still furrowed. "You know, I've known deep inside, when I was a kid, that I wasn't abandoned there, but since I can't remember their names and there aren't any physical matches in a lot of the genealogical tests I went through...I decided to never think about it again. That maybe my real parents and family are gone, in every conceivable way possible."
His heavy sigh punctures the sombre and tragic topic. "Vergil must have manipulated the information. Or, I don't know, the system must have wiped out so many genealogical information, to erase and manipulate the information people needed!"
But she merely shakes her head at Dante and then smiles at him. And it hurt him.
For the last few days and up till now, it had been all about him, his dysfunctional family and his mission to stop his brother! But unlike him, Kat wanting to save so many people comes from her character, her perspective that she wants to set things right! And it is so unfair…
"Thank you." She says sweetly, to which Dante, highly upset, stands up from his armchair, trots to her and crumples to the floor, resting his head and arms on her legs. She grins at his actions; immature, yet too vulnerably genuine to not pat his head for it.
"I remember…" She begins in a hushed tone. He lifts his head to listen, looking at her, as her hand brushed against his strands of ebony hair.
She continues. "...the last thing I think I saw...was an older boy. He was yelling my name...and that's how I know my name is Kat. Or Kathalina, I think."
Dante's brows furrowed as he listens to her recall, observing the way she struggles to conjure back the details.
"Hmm…" Kat's face crinkles. "I remember...about looking for stones...I was exploring this place with that boy, looking for special stones…in this island. I don't think we found any, though." She manages a laugh but gradually her smile drops, frowning as she lets her memories flow in the details, scant they may be. "But then, that's when it happened…this sudden blur and fatigue."
Her frowning face remains, but Dante could see something had changed in her grey-green eyes. He could tell Kat was recalling how she was taken away…
"There was only this darkness that came...and, well, um…I don't even remember exactly how I ended up being in the care center in Limbo City."
"It's okay." Dante assuages. "It's not your fault. You're here now. You're doing good."
Kat glances down and beams at him. "You, too, Dante. You, too."
He lowers his head to rest on her lap again, with his fingers reaching her left hand, gently playing with her fingers, careful because of the attached splint on her limb. Kat grins down at him, caressing his hair and the back of his neck. She twiddled with the strands of his ebony hair, realizing they had grown longer since the first time they met, and much more so when he first had his Trigger, turning his hair a shock of snow-white and his skin too pale and translucent, the veins beneath would show up. It is a mystery still what a Nephilim is; despite their existence, Vergil and Dante aren't the only 'sort', as many of the books she's read described renowned variations. Their abilities are all different as well and its manifestations, such as Dante's hair, skin and eyes, are numerable. And for one, she had thought his hair would remain as white as his brother's; after all, he had unlocked a part of his demonic powers. But hours after doing so, his hair had immediately tinted ebony again, starting from his crown, spreading until its latest length, just hugging the nape and his eyebrows at the front.
"You need a haircut." She comments cheerily, continuing to comb his hair with her fingers.
Lifting his face to glance at her, Kat chuckles at the jovial grin he has on his lips. "You think so? Or maybe I should get it grown long and frame my face? People seem to like heroes with long hair."
Kat scoffs in disagreement, grinning at this ridiculous thought. "Okay one, you can't even take care of hair like that—"
"I'm not human." He assured mischievously. "It'll be nice and lush—"
"—And two, who needs to follow a fad when you're just trying to save the world?"
Dante clicks his tongue to retort. "Nuh-uh, Kat, it's important to leave some kind of impression."
"On the people?" Kat asks incredulously.
"No, on your enemies." Dante quips, to which she snorts in disagreement, muttering "Oh my god". Becoming sombre again, he adds, "After this, we'll find your family, Kat."
The quiet that envelops them is much warmer than the tense silence regarding their mission and the possible outcome of losing to Vergil, among other details linked to Dante. And he found that comforting, to find purpose besides the one cleaning up after his brother's mess, or fixing what the Vie De Marli were trying to hide under the rug for centuries.
A blaze of confidence sparkles in Kat's eyes. "So let's go. I have a shopping list to finish, so we can finally kill Lamia and rescue the Wolfhaveners!"
Standing up from the armchair and from the floor, the two friends are enlivened, eagerly getting ready to head out and get the tools and ingredients necessary for the plan: it involved a dual Astral Projection for the two of them to scrutinize the situation on Rochenmore for a panoramic perspective. With Kat, she wants to ensure their Projections are safe, effective and, in case they can't buy or craft any, prepared for the next, so she'll be packed with a week's worth of supplies. After the Astral Projection, Kat will utilize Dante's photographic senses, as well as her own ocular and memorizing tools, to create their own live map of Rochenmore; with it, they'll be able to traverse the infected town, while their magical map records where they've been and what else could be found on certain areas.
As Dante finishes his mug of tea, he notices a silhouette of a bird hopping by their window. Pulling back the curtains, he planned to scare away the hapless bird, but—
"…what?!"
Just outside the motel's building was a tree, surrounded by parked vehicles under its branches; perched on its branches however, much to Dante's suspicion and chagrin, are numerous black birds!
The black bird on their windowsill looked up at him with its black, twinkling eye, expectant and quite content on its spot. Another black bird lands on the windowsill, surprising him, and the two seem to bicker for the small space.
"Oh!" Kat finally notices after dressing up inside the bathroom. She approaches the window with curiosity and wonder, the opposite of Dante's scepticism. "Carrion Crows."
"Don't these birds migrate?" He asks, his tone sharp.
"Actually, this type of crow is a resident. They don't migrate at all." Kat explains and glances at Dante, noting his suspicion. She recalls her Empathic experience to him when they were just arriving, the vision of those crows circling around her as they flew away. 'Switched off' she may be, that didn't mean she couldn't stop feeling the Sentience of this place…and the radiating feeling these birds do give off.
As the two bickering crows remained on the windowsill, Kat nudges Dante and gestures for them to leave. "Let's go. They're just birds. We'll investigate the pub later, where the source is likely emanating from. I think I remember Phineas saying a 'historic diner' full of people knowledgeable about their local historical stuff. That must be the place. If not, I'm sure someone will point us the right direction."
With a sardonic grin, Dante answers, "I'm sure someone's going to be thrilled to help us. And I'm sure 'the source' is just going to waltz in and reveal their self to us…"
Opening the door, he lets Kat leave first before him, giving the strange birds one last glance before he closes Room 209's door behind him.