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.

7. Chapter Six: Motifs and Patterns

Dec 2022 updates on small details. But nothing new happened in the 2 chapters...Merry xmas and a safe new year

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Chapter Six: Motifs and Patterns

Getting a 'glow-up' was the last thing he expected, but a body refreshed is a mind more prepared.

A chagrined townsfolk, weird crows, a mysterious gift, poems and the revelation of Angelavale's only protector.

Where they walked, the crows followed. Not all at once, but the strange behaviour of crows getting a bit too comfortable should be enough to rouse further curiosity and oddity to their already bad publicity. And they haven't even done anything. The trip to the bank was less than five minutes of a walk but getting there felt like a procession of criminals, with the public eyeing them with fiery suspicion or outright spewing animosity. But the one thing that came positively well was the fact that the crows, some flocking in groups as they landed near them, naturally created a path for the both of them whilst their presence separated them from the antagonizing townsfolk; a group of crows encircling them, as they made their way to the first part of their very long preparation for the journey ahead, consequently shooing away the loathsome humans.

"Thank you," Dante said to one crow hopping up the steps of the bank and stared back at him inquisitively, before he finally entered to follow Kat.

The bank's interior is spacious enough despite being almost as spacey as a modest apartment room. Although here they can't be protected by the crows, the animosity is a few levels down from the few clients the bank has and clinically absent from the employees. They have described the predicament regarding their Palladium coins and were made to wait while the employee had to check with his manager. It's here that things became a test of patience for Kat.

When it came to demon hunting, arcade games, helping in Kat's collection for ingredients and budding new hobbies he's never made for himself for the last thirteen years, Dante's boundless eagerness is borderline concerning. But when it came to money, or the frugality of it, it turns out to be his Achilles' heel.

"Look, maybe we shouldn't have given all of them," Dante expresses worriedly, to Kat's chagrin, in a low voice. "I mean, what's it cost now to just get a new catalytic converter instead of relying on the Palladium coins we have? And since the economy ain't looking so hot, I don't think that all the Palladium we have would even reach five grand."

The sigh escaping Kat captures her frustration. They sat at the waiting area just a few feet away from the shatter-proof glass desks of the bank employees. Desk 3 is in charge of their issue to have the Palladium coins converted to financial ones for everyday use; and the employee has not returned to his place since he went to the back office to discuss with the manager more than twenty minutes ago. Dante's anxiety about their coins went from level one to borderline paranoia as the minutes ticked by; he had been telling Kat regarding the use of palladium for cars and other mechanical engineering stuff, but she knew he was doing this more to calm his nerves. She understood perfectly well what being an impoverished person is, how neglect and survival pushes people to do drastic things and enact habits that are hard to kill. But her patience with his paranoid scepticism is wearing thin.

"We don't need five grand, even if it's true." She says, tempering her tone as to not snap at him. "And, please, please, Dante, for your sake, they aren't stealing the Palladium coins. The banker is discussing the whole thing with his manager at the back to know what to do with them and setting the converted price to pay to us—"

"They're gonna pay us, alright!" he says in a hissing tone, his expression quite livid. A bubbled scoff escapes Kat's lips and buries her face in defeat. "Hell, who's to say they want a 40% interest rate for service charging, hm? That's how they'll settle the final price! And they can do it to save their branch here in the middle of Catastrophe County! They'll need that money to keep this joint running while a supernatural disaster is happening!"

"Don't let them hear you!" She hisses back, slapping his arm.

"Oh I hope they're eavesdropping!" He quips venomously. "I swear, they're gonna have more than a piece of my mind when—there's that guy!"

"Will you stop shaking my arm?!" Kat retaliates by slamming his hand away from her left arm and hisses him to behave before being called over. "I'm going over there to talk first! You calm down behind me!"

They hissed their arguments as they walked up to the desk, but as soon as Kat is faced with the banker, she replaces her infuriation with a placid smile, all the while holding back Dante, who remains scowling with suspicion. The banker maintains a professional visage as he tells them they must discuss the matters inside the back office. "This way," he says as he opens the door that separates customers and employees and leads them inside, and into another door. Remaining on the lead, Kat is ready to intervene against her paranoid friend so as to avoid any awkward, if not an outrageous, situation.

Forward a short hallway full of other doors, they stop at the Meeting Room, with the banker opening the door for them to enter first. "After you."

"This better be goo—ack!" Dante snarls, but was painfully hit by Kat's elbow to his stomach, shutting him up temporarily.

As he rubs the painful area, wearing a more incensed scowl than an intimidating glare, the two are met by an older lady with a grey tailored suit and a rugged man who must've just thrown in a blazer over his thick, casual clothes. As the same banker closed the door and remained inside, the older lady, the bank manager, speaks first to introduce herself and then begins in a highly-pleasant tone, "Welcome and apologies for making you wait. Our bank here rarely handles bullion coin cases, and truth be told, if it weren't for this man (she turns to the rugged man beside her), we would've made you wait longer. Now I'll let him clarify the matter as we settle the right things."

With that, the manager turns away and attends with her banker to gather from behind them a trolley full of highly-secured boxes that they were unlocking. Leaning against the Meeting Room's long table, the rugged man—tall enough to reach Dante's height, averagely proportioned and with dark features—clears his throat and nods at them.

"Ciao. It's good to be here." He says as his eyes scan over Dante, who scoffs at him. Kat stares up at Dante disapprovingly.

"Wish I can say the same, buddy." He retorts, in which the rugged man's brows raise. Dante can see it, that minute snobbish detail glossing over this man's well-groomed face. He hates it.

"I hope you getting here wasn't troubling!" Kat cuts in and walks forward while extending a hand, to which the rugged man responds more positively. The two were surprised when the man didn't shake her hand but lifted her hand for a quick kiss (to which Dante's eyes squint at him). "Oh! Uhm, I meant to shake your hand…"

"Ah, scusi, a force of habit." He says apologetically and, as proof, even extends his hand to greet Dante from behind her. "And no, it was no trouble. In fact, I think it was meant to be."

Kat's eyes widened and turned to Dante with concern. But his gaze is at this mysterious businessman, gauging his mannerisms and maintaining a sceptical look. He reluctantly takes his hand to shake, but jerks the man's arm towards Dante as their hands connect! The man manages a grin, his hand still within an iron grip, as Dante replies, "Then provide."

He lets go of his hand with an obvious force; it's apparent Dante wants to get skin-deep to ruffle the man's nerves. With this unforeseen twist, Kat closely watches the rugged man straighten up and clears his throat again.

"Yes, of course! To begin, I am Oreste and a businessman under Ferino Co. and work closely with Wolfhaven's local engineers of all sorts. Anyway, the important part is, I was still in Angelavale when I got a call from this bank, telling me of Palladium coins that perchance I am interested in. To be honest, a ride back to this sordid place is not something I was in a mood for, but I decided to help settle matters quickly since two other handlers and specialists are unavailable because of the situation. So! Here I am! I got my and my father's accounts already settled, as he's agreed to make use of some of these special coins for his jewelling business."

As the businessman, Oreste, explained himself, Dante's face grew obviously bored and irate. To respond, he asks, "So the important part is that we're lucky you're here at all?"

Oreste makes a thoughtful face before nodding and answered, "Well, yes. But don't think this affair is one sided, I assure you. Palladium per troy ounce remains valuable, no matter the economic changes."

"Right. Thanks for saving our poor asses," Dante replies offhandedly, content it leaving things irately clear he doesn't like him. However, Oreste, trots closer to Kat and his amicable expression at her was not missed.

"Pardon, but I appreciate your concern earlier. It really was no trouble." He tells her politely, his gaze serenely at her face. Kat was beginning to feel awkward. "I understand things are not looking well. But I must say, if information is right, you and your friend are here to help in fighting against these…demonio. So if there is anything that you and your friend would like, my company will do what they can to get you in touch, or in business with anything and anyone, as a gift. These are dangerous times, after all." With a soft flourish, he reaches inside the blazer's pocket, pulls out his calling card and hands it to her, all while smiling warmly and amicably at her. Not wanting to be impolite, Kat stretches out her fingers—

—only to be met with Dante's hand swiping the calling card from Oreste's hand. Clearing his throat, he turned to stare at Dante and tried mustering the same smile. "You can contact me and I will do my best to provide."

Clapping his shoulder, Dante chuckled at him before looking at the calling card. "Yeah, will do, though we already got cops providing us some gear. You and your daddy's money, though, is what we need for our personal shopping. So yeah, provide you shall!"

Uncomfortable but retaining that placid smile, he nods in agreement. "Yes, well. We should, um, see to it then. I have agreed to pay it all forward in cash."

Although she had backed away and is secretly grateful for Dante saving her neck, Kat finds it unbelievably amusing to observe these two young men, of different statuses and experience, size each other up.

A clearing of his throat, Oreste quips, "I'm sure you'll make use of the money wisely."

Dante's smile widens. "Oh, yes, thank you for sharing your chump change. How generous."

It was Kat's turn to clear her throat to gain their attention, wanting to stop this ridiculous banter. "Mr. Oreste, you mention how you think this was meant to be. Did you have another contact who told you to wait for us, by any chance?"

At this, the business man laughed. "Ah, no, no, no! This was purely coincidental! But there are times, I do believe, the stars align to favor those who know how to read the constellations. But if I may, I suggest that you contact Commissioner Morrison himself regarding my family's and Ferino Co.'s many contributions."

At this, the scowl in Dante's face returned. "You mean how your family agreed to spy and sabotage other businesses, so you can be granted partial immunity and favor from the demons?"

At this, the sound of one of the vaulted boxes, clanging against the trolley, which almost fell to the floor, got the rest of them whirling to look at the bank manager, apologetically recollecting herself as she and her colleague continue to do their activity. Oreste sighs in this disappointed matter as Dante glares at him. Kat snaps her lips open, her tone cool. "I think we should proceed."

Wordlessly, the three of them gathered around and are informed of the generous amount Oreste and Ferino Co. are paying per troy ounce of the bullion coins. Impressed at the staggering amount, Kat excitedly looks at her best friend, expecting him to finally let go of his past financial fears, only to see him coldly look at the stacks of money on the meeting room table.

Oreste smiles at them and at the cold hard cash piling up. "More than eighty-grand!" Then, from behind him, he reaches for an object at the trolley and flourishes the blue rose pouch with a mesmerized look on his face. "Now, to think, such a specific fine piece of art would remain in existence—"

Marching towards him, Dante, again, swipes the object from Oreste's hand with an intensely infuriated expression. But without a word, Dante trots back to Kat's side as he hides the blue rose pouch inside his coat.

A frosty expression casts over Oreste as both the bank manager and her colleague silently stacked the money on a counting machine to ensure the exact amount will be given. Out of professionalism, the manager was clinically polite throughout the entire affair, not looking at them in the eye as she led her colleague out the door quickly to give the three of them privacy. When the door closed, Oreste audibly exhaled a long breath.

"I was right about you, Dante," he says, his tone too smooth and even. "From how my father had described your parents and the way the Vie De Marli handled business, I can only predict that your emotions will also be your downfall. But I do hope that won't be."

Deciding to leave things be as they are, Oreste turns to the door as Dante glowered at him. Kat, however, asks him one last thing: "Your Company may have done dubious things for the sake of surviving against more powerful demons, but now Ferino Co. virtually has no competition or allies from Mundus' Court. Are you still going to run it like it was the same way?"

He didn't immediately turn to face nor answer her. Oreste waltzes towards the door and pushes it open; it's here he stops midway and turns to look at them one last time, an amicable smile on his lips. "Corny, but, we are simply doing business. In line with that, I do believe in this motto: uno e fortunato ad alimentare le bocche dei lupi."

And with that, he leaves the room. Kat clicks her tongue at the last thing he said. "Shows just who he is."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't matter anymore," Dante adds as he opens one of the envelopes. "All that's important is we got platinum dickhead's money and it's going to be used so wisely he's gonna beg us to buy him regret!"

A smile forming across her face, Kat leads them out the door as they exit the bank. The manager and the banker in Desk 3 bid them goodbye politely as they pushed open the door for them to leave. Built as one of the joined establishments at the tourist plaza, one is immediately met with the convenient parking area outside, as well as the main Wolfhaven road leading to a diverging freeway kilometres ahead. And it seems Oreste, on his beautiful and gleaming motorbike, is heading there, to return to the main town of Angelavale.

The two merely watched the young businessman, his back to them, putting on his windbreaker coat and helmet, then revving the bike to life and taking off the parking area, towards the main road and disappearing into the mist. There have been several people—some loitering, others in a midst of deciding whether they would make their own camping site or join the large shelter behind the tourist plaza—who saw Oreste and parted a path for him, like a huge river parting for their messiah, when he went back to his bike. When he left and the two of them stepped off the bank, the eyes of several of the townsfolk trained on them; it couldn't be missed that some of them intentionally bumped against Dante. The whole visage of the two of them being swarmed with hopping, enthusiastic crows didn't help matters at all. They are the pariahs they want to enact their frustrations on. But that wasn't going to stop them…

…especially not on their first stop at the small grocery.

They left appearing amicable, kept up appearances while they walked to the small grocery. They didn't make any eye contact with all the other patrons jam-packing the place and overworked staff that will likely snap if they caused an accident. Kat had a long list of things to buy, evident from the dog-eared notebook she's clutching, and they had hoped, as a strategy, that the number of people coming to buy groceries would dwindle as the sun goes down; reasoning that the charity packages, rations, free food and medical already being distributed to the townsfolk would mean less of them buying and more so gathered somewhere else. But it seems it wasn't the case, as panic-buying is in everyone's minds.

"Remember what Officer Carter said?" Dante points out as they observe the myriad of people fighting over stacked grocery carts and racing towards the entrance of the grocery store of the tourist plaza, their maddened voices carried away by the chilly wind. "There's been a limit of supplies coming. I don't doubt they were assured they're not gonna run out with what they already have, but people will panic in groups if there's even just one becoming anxious over how they won't be over-supplied."

And with that, Kat shortened the list and concentrated on gathering what she knew would spoil in a day or two so she can have them brewed for her potions immediately. He can see she is undeterred and so Dante followed her instructions, pushing the cart beside her as they navigated the medium-sized grocery store; they lacked certain fresh produce and even just one shelf dedicated to selling liquor, but still a sizable market to get fundamental products.

Looking at the long list and navigating the aisles and cold storages, Kat is determined to get at least a few fresh meats, vegetables, fruits, seeds and certain herbs and flowers from a small stall of a flower shop. When she was with the Order, they have supplied themselves for a war and, up to now, technically supplies Kat for six or seven months more! However, her expertise for potion-brewing, spell-casting, etc. is still that of a novice. She's lucky to have supplies that could help her practice at all! And since she is a novice, most of the results may turn out to be useless or less effective. And they had already talked about going to Rochenmore like it was yesterday! She was going to step it up!

"Okay, looks like no one's bothering with the turkey!" Kat tells Dante as she writes a check mark on her list. "We're gonna need a lot. It's okay if it's showing myoglobin, the red stuff. That protein is useful."

Pushing open the frozen storage box, Dante wastes no time hauling turkey after turkey. Some come in chopped packages, whilst others come with the turkey still whole. Scanning the frozen meats aisle, it seems it was good to go for the un-seasonal turkey, as shelves and storage boxes of pork, beef, venison (which keeps selling out as staff keeps replenishing and buyers kept fighting to quickly get them), chicken and fishes are constantly under forceful demand. Although, just next to them, it seemed a few people realized what they were doing and are pushing open another turkey box and filling their grocery cart with it.

"Yeah, that's enough of them," Kat murmurs to Dante, grabbing his arm to halt him hefting another large sack of a full-bodied turkey. "We gotta go!"

He hefts the large sack inside their cart and quickly pushes it behind Kat, who strolls quickly to the vegetable and fruits section. "What I need next are plants, fruits and flowers, and since we're practically beggars, I don't have the luxury to choose exactly. We're just gonna dump what we can reach!"

Like mad children allowed to push grocery carts towards the goal, the two sections of fresh produce are packed with staff bringing in fork-lifts of items—meant to be arranged to their neat, cold shelves—and shrieking customers hounding for the crates themselves! The ones left on the shelves are already being grabbed, fought for and even stolen from other people's shopping carts!

Without a thought spared, Kat is suddenly pushing her way through, against Dante's fearful shriek of her name and against the waves of people pushing and dashing there and everywhere! Her left splinted arm ached dully as bodies slammed and squeezed against hers! But through a miracle and sheer will, Kat makes it to one of the shelves! She manages to grab very distorted-looking carrots, shrivelled greens, apples, oranges, bananas, potatoes and a package of two ready-to-eat salad mixes!

She cradled the items like her soul was going to be taken away, as her body is shoved and squeezed in between so many others that are jumping, dashing and shoving to get in or out; she feels so stuck between inscrutable figures that Kat is becoming dizzy! Dante's screaming voice was the only thing she can make out clearly and, thank god, he had come to take her away from the consumer-driven riot! Shielding her with his tall body, he escorts her out of the area, being flooded like a human-made tidal wave converging maddeningly for low-price stocks and panic-buying mania!

"You okay?" He asks as they make it back to their shopping cart, parked a safe distance just three meters away. He looks her up and down, seeing if she hurt herself or if she dropped anything if she noticed any—if she even noticed at all!—aren't in her arms!

She nods vigorously. "Yeah, I'm…wait…" She looks over their cart and felt that the amount of plump, frozen turkeys had reduced inside it! He follows her line of sight and realizes in horror that those few seconds of leaving their cart was indeed ample time for the biggest turkey he hauled earlier to go missing! She strolls towards it to dump the measly pile of fruits and vegetables, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

She lifts her eyes, however, perhaps the luck of good timing; she sees the huge frozen sack of turkey being buried underneath another family's pile of grocery items, hurrying to go to another section while having the audacity to look back at them with remorseless disdain. Her frustration found its way from her throat and out her mouth! "HEY!"

She chased after them with wide steps, nostrils flaring! Dante followed suit, pushing the cart behind her, but decided to see how it would play out; he was just as angry, but this time, he let Kat play the bad cop role.

"That's ours! How dare you steal stuff—?!"

But the dismissive thieves—a family made up of their middle-aged parents and three teenagers, with the youngest looking at her so vilely—looked her over like she was sporting two heads. The father waved at her like a fly, saying, "Don't bother us, we don't know anything…"

She raised her voice at them, fuming. "Well you know enough that you have to steal!" Several people are turning their heads in their direction, but aren't bothered enough and continued to raid the shelves of everything. "Give that back—!"

"Or else, you'll what, you little bitch?!" Threatened the father, looking livid. Kat doesn't back down and steps closer to the cart being pushed by their oldest son, looking at them pensively, as if he is helpless for being involved in this. Their mother anticipated her next move, watching Kat's hand going inside the cart and grabs the big, frozen sack of turkey!

"DO NOT EVEN THINK—!" The mother's hand shot forward as their father lunges for Kat, their youngest teenager screaming her head off as their twice-stolen turkey is getting away! She wasn't able to move fast enough as the frosted sack is immediately covered by several other hands as Kat fought to take back their best item, even though she knew it was a losing battle!

The frosted sack finally slips from her hands, dropping to the floor in a spongy-damp smack! Unfortunately, neither one of them immediately picked up the fallen turkey! To Kat's defense, she was more worried about the assaulting teenager coming for her head! But it doesn't come!

"Whoa, there squirt!"

The little, teenage girl smacks directly against Dante's torso, his hands coming to push her gently away, looking like a sullen babysitter trying to calm down a teenager on a warpath!

"Get the FUCK OUTTA MY WAY! You giant piece of shit!" Yelled the little girl, who was promptly whisked away by her older brother and similarly coming in between them and his family. Their middle sibling, observing with a sly gleeful look on his face, is the only one who remains uninvolved, snickering at the whole situation.

Amused himself, Dante grins down at the teen girl. "Whoa, dirty talking at your age?! Thanks for taking me back. 'was quite the potty mouth myself your age…"

More expletives came out of the girl's mouth even as her father yanks her behind his taller figure, his eyes glazing at them with disgust. Compared to him, however, his wife is more aggressive and red in rage, likely about to throttle them to the floor!

"You fuckin' uncivilized, pathetic mongrels," started their mother, barely behind her eldest son, pointing an accusing finger at Kat, "should never have set ya foot 'n here! You don't even've the right to have this!" She swats away her son's outstretched arms and grabs from the floor the gradually thawing turkey! Still outraged, she flourishes the thawing, frosted sack with a lifted index finger pointing at the two of them this time! "You don't deserve to have any shit returned t'you!"

Matching the audacity of the middle-aged woman, Kat vexingly snaps back, "So you admit to stealing after all?!"

"The two of you heathens should crawl back to whatever hellhole you were made!"

"You would know, wouldn't you?! Desperate enough to have a bad turkey till next year!"

The middle-aged woman hurled more obscenities at them until—!

"ENOUGH!" The father ragingly cuts between them, pulling both his oldest son and wife back to their side and pushing their cart elsewhere! "We don't need to waste anymore time! Come on! I said come on!"

And just like that, with their snickering middle child following behind them, after turning back to make a triumphant look against Kat and Dante, they hurried to the next side of the grocery. Now made too aware of the maniacal buying attitude of the patrons, it had slightly subsided because of their interests (and perhaps guilt) shifting to their situation; not wanting to bring anymore attention, the two hunters humiliatingly made their way to the flower stall without another word.

Dante wanted to tell an apology because he had unintentionally left the cart when he got to her, but she was too focused on getting there and quickly hoarding some bouquets and potted plants that he decided not speak of it yet. The eyes of patrons and staff followed them, even as they hoarded their carts full and paid for them, and restocked shelves with new discount and promo codes plastered on each aisle; multitasking at having to be entertained with gossip from those who witnessed the whole thing and going about their task in flooding their personal belongings with items that would likely perish or take too much space; or refilling their small, family-run grocery's space to profit off the disaster as much as they could. Putting the final pot of fern flower plant inside the cart, Kat finally tells him it's time for them to pay.

Getting in line for the self check-out is just as ugly, enduring whispers about Kat's rude actions or how the 'social deviant' tried to whisk away the young teenage daughter. As talk surrounded them continuously, Dante took Kat's tightly-fisted hand to his and silently gazed at her barely-leashed tears and anger. They take the opportunity quickly when they get to their turn, scanning all the items and counting the money, with Kat sniffing back tears and snot as she hurriedly counted the bills down.

There was also a staff member stationed to make sure everything smoothly goes during scanning and paying, but usually only one is supposed to be there. When it came to the two of them, however, three more came out to 'assist' them, ensuring what they bought is all there is on the receipt and nothing more. One of them even told Dante that he'll push the cart of their groceries for them, assuring him too coldly that "he's got it" without as much a glance at him. Their gazes at them and at their purchases are hawk-like, a bit too close to their personal spaces for comfort as they are about to exit. The murmuring among other patrons ranged from derisive opinions to scathing smirks, looking them up and down, with some all too happy to passive-aggressively make jeering sounds at their direction as they passed by.

"Miss Kat, Mr. Dante!" came the jovial and poised figure of one of the motel managers, Shiv, or Mr. Shiv, at the very doors of the grocery store, one hand lifted to wave them over. The two shared a surprised look, not only from seeing him here, but being amicably professional despite a group of crows crowding around his feet!

"Thank you, gentlemen! Please ensure their purchased goods are safely delivered to their room in 209!" He says to the grocery staff as they continued to wheel away their cart towards the motel, consequently shooing away the pesky birds.

As the patrons and other townsfolk looked on with furrowed envy and blanched faces, the two hunters couldn't help feeling triumphant! This was a pleasant surprise!

"By the way, I had been further informed by the police that they will guard your room whenever you vacate it. They will be sweeping tomorrow morning of any unwanted 'bugging' implanted there, as routine. But it appears you have not mentioned to them that you left."

Dante makes a face, scoffing at this information. "Wait, they didn't tell us to text or call them when we're about to leave the room!"

Apologetic and sheepish, Kat adds, "Okay, maybe miscommunication about the last part about informing them, so, uh, I can text them now…"

Mr. Shiv waves his hand reassuringly. "Ah, they anticipated you two saying something similar, so there was no need! Perhaps this serves as a reminder for next time."

The two hunters awkwardly nod in agreement, with Mr. Shiv beaming even more in satisfaction. "Alright, then! So, I decided to find you two when Officers Carter and Alpin spotted you two from the bank and going to the grocery store afterwards. With that, is there still anything that you would need that, perhaps, we could provide after making arrangements? It appears the small grocery will run out with certain items soon." And then, he leans closer to whisper, "And not too far behind is the gas station's convenience store, so…"

Looking at his friend, Dante sees that Kat is rechecking her notebook for the list with a quizzical look. She taps at a certain passage with a gleaming expression. "Mr. Shiv, you don't happen to have any unused scraps of paper? Like it doesn't matter what kind, although not glossy, magazine types, but other pulp-based types?"

"Oh, yes, yes we do!" Mr. Shiv replies with enthusiasm. "We still have a stock of last week's newspapers! They're supposed to be delivered to the local recycling program next week however, but I suppose it's alright. Lastly, I must lead you back to the gift shop to show you the reason why I needed to find you."

He begins to lead them back to the motel, leaving behind a shopping plaza full of onlookers and, likely, disguised snoops who aren't missing the two hunters' preferential treatment and protection from the authorities. But, personally, to Dante, the fall to favor them isn't vainly empty and he understood the way to give back to the motel staff and the local Wolfhaven police are to save them from the demon infestation. But yes, personally, being looked out for is a nice change of pace!

Mr. Shiv and Kat get into a conversation, as she inquires for any items she can definitely pay for if the motel, the plaza or even among the voluntary aid and authorities can provide them. Still mindful of what she divulges on her intentions to use them for, Kat enthuses with interest about the gift shop's special items, her grey-green eyes twinkling in excitement. Still leading them ahead, Mr. Shiv pulls out a radio from his belt and spoke to someone on the other line.

As he does so, Kat falls back to speak to Dante, her lips grinning ear to ear. "Their gift shop is so special! They have trinkets locally made here and from mineral and natural resources! They will make the spells especially potent, harnessing the energy from the objects local from this area as a basis for all the spells, enchantments, all of it!"

As Kat continues to explain, Dante merely has this affable look of interest as his friend divulged him of all her necessary ingredients she needs and the nature of such spells. He really has yet to read those tomes about magic application, its history and theories, but it felt nice how Kat speaks to him like he can even keep up with her, when it's further from the truth. He didn't stop her from talking all about the importance of the Viridium spheres as they neared the main entrance of the motel once more, finding her highly-spirited expertise a distraction from the disapproving and even hopeless glances of the townsfolk that passed them by.

Grey and unnaturally quiet as the whole day's colour palette is, it's no wonder when the sudden rumble of the earth and the flash of lightning from miles and miles away took everyone's attention! Turning his head immediately to the source, the two hunters—along with the hundreds of thousands of eye witnesses—watch in terror, somewhere to the east, a darker swirl of clouds begin to form, spoiled by the sudden whip of white lightning cracking down multiple times in spontaneous bursts and the short growl of an earthquake! There had been running and screeching cries of how miraculous they all still are as the quaking halted immediately.

"You okay?" He asks Kat, then turning to Mr. Shiv, who looks shaken. He had clutched her hand to make sure she doesn't trip and fall. Before she could reply, the three of them looked around them as several officers urged a lot of the townsfolk to find to their shelters as calmly as they can.

As the panic subsided to a mild rush hour of sorts to return inside, the cawing and cackling of frenzied crows that once cheerfully tailed behind or observed the two hunters restlessly communicated amongst themselves before flocking in a whirlpool of avian madness above the service station! Hundreds upon hundreds of these birds filled the gradually darkening afternoon with their black silhouettes before flying eastward, to the direction of where the ominous clouds and the strange earthquake had been.

The way Kat turns to him is telling of how well she would've ran as well. But she tightens her grip on his hand. "I guess we need to get moving, forget that shopping and the plan…"

He was about to agree until Mr. Shiv interrupts them, looking panicked. "Wait, please! I cannot pretend that things are safe, but we should not be so hasty! I went to you because it is important. The gift has just arrived."

"Gift?" Dante asks.

Mr. Shiv nods worryingly. "Yes, yes." He looks at the two of them, urgency in his eyes. Seeing as they didn't disagree and turn away, he says, "Follow me."

The two had looked at each other, still determined to get out of here, but realized there are matters that must be as important. And Kat had initiated their Astral Projection plot, so she was still down with that. Ominous and worth looking into the whole dark clouds and supernatural earthquake was, they would be entering that area in the dark, both figuratively and literally; the area on the east, faraway it may be, loomed darker and the drab grey light of afternoon sun unable to penetrate through the darkness. So here they are, inside the motel again and following the once-chirpy motel manager to get to the bottom of this.

Turning to a corner in Red Grave Motel's east side, they are met with a quaint room displaying all its trinkets and accessories, its very apt sign name 'Gift Shop' at the top of it. Going inside, the ringing of a tiny bell announces their arrival and finding a gift shop agent, with a broom and pan in hand, assessing the destruction around her. Despite the earthquake, most of the items are intact despite being sprawled to the floor. There are a few shattered remains on numerous areas of the floor, but so far, no alarming damage. Mr. Shiv speaks with his fellow employee, conversing something urgently, before she goes to the payer's desk and through the Authorized Only room. It's here he turns to them.

"Please excuse us while we sort the mess, Miss Kat, Mr. Dante! I'll reveal the very reason why I went to look for you, later." Mr. Shiv says with a beaming smile, trying to assuage the problem. "For now, come see our new collection of jewellery and bags. All handmade and funds local artisans. I am sure that should help your…um, project. Hopefully, you won't leave behind a huge mess inside the motel room for my brother and his team to clean up afterwards."

"Oh, thank you." Kat replies, doing her best to be optimistic. "And yes, I'll make sure we tidy up after. But you have to tell us, at least, what is so imperative that you went out to help with the groceries and prevented us from booking it out of here?"

The swallowing he did was not missed as Mr. Shiv maintains composure. "And I am glad that you did not go charging through! This reason, this gift, is highly essential! My agent there, she went to the back to see where it is and bring it forth. I will explain everything."

At the mention of that, a crackle of Mr. Shiv's radio reveals his colleague's voice, indicating that she cannot locate the very item he had sent her to look. The panic sets on Mr. Shiv's face. "Alright, I'll look into it. Have you sent some of the cleaners to help with us in this shop? ...Good, okay, I'll be there…Apologies! I'll be assisting my colleague at the back to procure the gift! Please don't step unto the mess! The staff from the motel will arrive shortly to clean this up! Excuse me…"

And from that, he disappears, leaving the two of them, dumbfounded.

Clearing her throat, Kat decides to look into some of the items that she had wanted to buy. "I'm sure we'll be done soon."

"Don't step on those," he warns, pointing the broken shards scattered next to them. She hops over them carefully and goes to one corner of the shop, inspecting stone-made trinkets and beautiful Indian embroidery hanging behind the cashier desk, depicting two warrior-like figures.

Left to his own devices, Dante decides to whip out his smartphone—although not so much for personal use, as it contains more than 4 GB of merely documents upon documents of references for investigative purposes—and skims on those documents filling up the screen; he even chuckles at the personal folder he has created and transferred from among the many hard drives the Order had accumulated: it contains his own 'diary' of sorts, just scribbles of notes from his new smartphone, pictures of the people in the squalid districts of Limbo and his new 'passion' project, a release of boredom and agitation in the form of a hobby, revealing his assumption of a life away from, or after, demon-hunting, supernatural phenomena and saving-the-world-from-maniacs-and-judgmental-angels sort of thing.

He gazes at the images and drafted plans longingly. He had shared this with Kat; but there was no encouragement from her, not because she thought his ideas—now being harnessed unto something creative and non-destructive—are bad, or she was being sceptical of it all. If anything, she loved that he had found artful hobbies and she shared with him her ideas that he recorded here as well…

But the reason she didn't encourage, nor asked, if and when could they even finish it, or even start them properly, was because she was just as ambivalent about their future as he was: deeply, silently, an unspoken truce…

"You drew that?" Kat asked, intrigued and impressed, scanning at the whole stack of bound paper turned to self-made notebook.

He hissed playfully. "You sound like that's a bad thing."

"No, no, no! Lemme see…"

She marvelled at the sketches of the characters, with their guitars and keyboards, a jukebox-tank-hybrid being ridden by another character…

"It's the jukebox-tank." He described.

"How original." She commented, a hint sarcastically.

Dante explained. "It's still incomplete and bad-looking stuff. I haven't had the years to finesse drawing, much less musical instruments…"

Kat gives him a sympathetic look. "True, but you starting something good IS a step! But okay, what's this about?"

He scratches his neck sheepishly. "I'm actually not quite sure…This guy is definitely sort of me."

"Uh-huh…"

"So, he's like my alter-ego or something."

"Can I have an alter-ego, too?"

"Yeah, sure, prolly…"

They talked for hours, Kat forgetting she had her new splint on her left arm at that time, that Dante made sure she doesn't stretch that part of her, as she came up with an outline of what the story of these characters could go through. She even drew up a symbol, supposedly an imitation of an actual alphabet from an ancient rune. He loved it; he thought maybe it's their sigil of freedom and happiness. It was also quite hilarious, seeing Kat's mysterious, symmetrical sigil next to Dante's odd, misshapen doodles of mutant thumbs with their own insect appendages and dopey faces—

There was a scream not far away. Dante blamed himself for letting his focus drift as they realized a Stygian infestation had come, their harpy-shooting friend coming by to assist…

He flicks the folder away and skims on another folder, trying to bury that memory at the back of his mind out of frustration, not wanting to fall for his weakness. It's all a fantasy, to lead a normal, safe life; a luxury.

He couldn't help it, but he was comparing himself, suddenly, to Vergil. He had known what it was like to live normally; in his twin's own written words, on his journals and diaries he had managed to read, he described it to be 'so borderline utopic, an idyllic life that the Vie De Marli provided naturally and artificially, it was painfully ironic! I (Vergil) am living almost as similarly as Mundus' human pets and his comfortable Consorts: under their illusions and luxuriously lavish in doing so! And I hate it'.

They had posed as Vergil's adopted parents and family, gradually letting him know of his heritage while under their tutelage to become stronger. But under their nose, he was not allowed to apply what he was taught, or at least not yet. They had plans for him and they have plans in locating Dante, his long-lost brother for the last thirteen years. And that made him impatient and, sympathetically, Dante understood.

He understood very well that their difference was no obstacle to their possible brotherhood. But it had, indeed, warped them to view the world vastly different. And it made him dwell on the things he thought Vergil might've thoughtlessly ignored: being provided the time he had to hone what he wanted to do; a supportive, albeit overprotective, group of people; and a home, away from the constant isolation of being under target by invisible forces and apathetic passersby. Vergil had thirteen years; Dante had the last six days.

Not wanting to let his emotions and memories well up again, he kept flicking his finger across the screen to load up page after page of information he's skimming over, all the while he paced at the other corner end of the shop. While half-minding the shelves he almost bumped and ensuring he doesn't end up having a shattered piece of the gift shop's item underneath his boot, he suddenly felt this unknown jolt at the crown of his head, taking him by surprise! …the fuck? Something touched me…!

He glanced around him, noting Kat still on the other side of the shop, now accompanied by the other employee; he flicks his gaze above him, hoping he might have just brushed the top of his head against an object. Sure enough, a number of accessories are nowhere near close to him or even at the edge of the shelves to graze against his head! Not even the long trains of shells or beadwork are hanging above him, their ends instead at level with his shoulders!

He was beginning to question himself and even touched the top of his head—

"…over here…"

He swore, he did not imagine that small, mischievous voice calling for his attention! It had been above him, on top of an immaculate glass wardrobe full of sculpted figurines! And he swore he did not imagine one of the little statues—

"What in the—?!"

—blow him a kiss before becoming still, in her pose on her sculpted figurine piece!

Because of curiosity and, perhaps, because of annoyance at being called his attention, Dante steps closer towards the glass wardrobe, as if to dare that voice again. The old, immaculate glass wardrobe shows an impressive array of statuettes for decoration to tiny handcrafted toys. He was quite charmed…but an odd feeling crept inside his stomach when he realized none of the objects appear to have been shaken around inside the wardrobe by the earthquake! Every piece he could see remains intact!

He retrains his eyes on the same figurine again, the one he thought moved, and he studies the details: a dark, metallic figurine depicting a woman dressed in a long, wrap-around mossy-green tunic (the only part that is distinguishingly greenish in color), revealing her sculpted body, kneeling on top of its bowl-shaped base and carrying a giant hourglass behind her; her long hair cascading down past her hips and her facial features, besides the lower-half of her face, are hidden by a lion headset.

He strains to look closer, waiting for it to move or even see her eyes beneath the lion headset…

…and her still lips quirk to a smile, her face tilting downward to glance at him!

The shock subsided as quickly as his body had jumped, when Mr. Shiv and Kat had approached him, completely unaware that they had been coming closer!

"Oh, goodness, are you alright?" Mr. Shiv immediately goes to his side and looks him over. Dante nods and mutters "yeah, fine…" as he glances up the shelf of the wardrobe again, stupefied, to find the lion-wearing figurine had returned to how he had found it!

Kat's eyes followed to where he is staring and, sure enough, a spark of recognition comes across her face. She points to the figurine as she asks Mr. Shiv, "That figurine—?"

But he is unable to answer, looking just as stunned as Dante, their gazes up towards the statuette. He peers to Dante and asks, "Sir, did you find this figurine right here, inside this wardrobe?"

"Psh, yeah," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, I can see the wardrobe's locked…" His nonchalant expression gives way to a confused look, but he seemed to have brushed that aside in favor of appearing unaffected. "I've not touched any of these items." So…if that thing was the one that caught my attention, how did it do that locked up and touching my head?

With an apologetic nod and finally taking back his composure, Mr. Shiv expounds. "These items are antique memorabilia and are not among our regular souvenir and collectible range…" A grim look crosses Mr. Shiv's expression, scanning the items stored inside the glass wardrobe and, internally, he must've realized something. But he swallows before recomposing himself again. "However, that figurine, merely delivered just twenty minutes ago, with specific instructions, is the gift."

The two looked at one another, befuddled and spooked. Kat spoke, "Weren't you just looking for it at the back of the store?"

Mr. Shiv waves his hands to gesture assurance and hoping they're still with him. "I should apologise. I didn't think one of you would even…experience such a thing."

Their spooked visages became even more unnerved! "Wait a sec, what d'you mean?!"

Dante, a nephilim and had killed countless demons, looks petrified. "Are you saying this shop's haunted?!"

He continues after clearing his throat and being embarrassed at the muddled situation. "No, no, no, no! I assure you, please! I believe…that, perhaps, one of the staff had misplaced her—"

"Her?!" Dante cuts in, but luckily Mr. Shiv continues.

"—and, you know, human fallibility and all that! And it's a good thing she remained secure! That is important."

Dante looks unconvinced and murmured. "You just don't want to admit it's haunted…"

Trying to clarify the whole thing, Kat questions the gift shop manager. "Okay, fine, but the question remains: what is it? And who would even gift it to us?"

And it's here, Mr. Shiv's confidence returns to color his gestures. "Ah! You see, it's a gift to you, and that whatever it is will only be uncovered by your diligence! The giver is from the Grandmother of Wolfhaven—"

"La Matier, Angeliq Agilulf?!" Kat suddenly exclaimed, her grey-green eyes as wide as her open mouth! Mr. Shiv's jovial spirit only heightens from Kat's excitement.

Dante is slightly familiar with the figure: Angeliq Agilulf is recognized as among the longest living humans to exist, at the age of 120 years, and is known as the last 'pure' descendant of the ancient tribe native in the county of Wolfhaven, and dubbed overseas as La Matier, for her philanthropic contributions. But he can't help but become suspicious. "And why would she give us an old statuette as a gift? We might just break it and lose a historical artefact."

Kat's excited expression deflates and frowns at Dante.

Nodding understandably, Mr. Shiv clarifies, "No worries. Ms. Agilulf has specified what should be done for the figurine's safety and avoidance of loss, with the staff and the authorities assigned to safeguard the figurine. We can also provide additional paraphernalia to secure the figurine inside your room—"

"Inside? Our room?" This time, Kat becomes just as suspicious, if not puzzled.

"That is," Mr. Shiv continues, looking at both of them. "If you accept the gift, formally."

They didn't need to ask: why do they need to have it? As the uneasy silence fills the three of them, Mr. Shiv clears his throat again and, with a softer gesture of his left hand—as if to have a do-over—speaks again. "I will say, if I were in your shoes, this would make me very puzzled, to say the least, especially from someone who I barely know…well, La Matier is a publicly-known figure, but it's not the same as being personally acquainted. Ah, but to help inform you more, I do have its documents! Yes, apologies and excuse me, I was to inform you that I might take longer because the item was missing at the back…but here we are! Now, will you wait while I take the papers?"

As Mr. Shiv excuses himself to procure the documents, the two hunters are left alone to discuss the consequences of accepting something they have little idea of.

"I've seen a statue of it, huge." Kat begins, a spark of intrigue in her whole posture. "Phineas had one on his Soulscape. Do you think, maybe, La Matier is a member of the Vie De Marli?"

"At this point, we should be surprised if she isn't. The Vie De Marli loves their secrets. And who can blame them?" He dryly tells her, and then jokingly points his finger at himself to answer his rhetoric.

"And their reveals." Kat adds, to their affirmation.

"From the Archives itself," Dante explains, doubt reflective of his stillness. "Many of the Vie De Marli used codenames to hide their identities and there was very little hint as to the profile of who did what. With Morrison, we can guess he's under a new codename from the last three decades they've documented and link him to the Wych Elm Murder case. But if she is a member, how huge of a scope are we going to look into? She's a centenarian—"

"Super-centenarian." Kat corrects.

"—which also means the Archived mission logs isn't gonna cut it. The ones they gave us covered the start of the 1960's! We can only speculate when she started and that probably wasn't that decade."

Ruminative, she crosses her arms. "And why give us something? I mean, Mr. Shiv's going to clarify the whole thing, but it boils down to just being handed over an authentic item that we aren't experts of."

"Hmm. You said that you need items that are naturally-sourced or something." Dante queries. "You think you could find a use for this figurine? It's got historic value."

Kat hadn't thought of that. "I might, but…most of the items I use for recipes to harness energies are from naturally-occurring ones that are easily attainable, if that made sense. Yes, ancient metallurgy and runic-smiths harnessed metals and stone, but I'm none of those."

"Well, a lot of metal nowadays are easy to access and recyclable." Dante points out, to Kat shaking her head.

"If you've noticed, most of my recipes are organic in nature. Very little do I use metals, and I've only started practicing on stone or crystal materials." Then she shrugs her shoulders, admitting a fault. "…which I must say, it would come in handy if I could just widen my knowledge further about utilizing as much as I could, if I have time."

"Sorry, I forgot you're still an amateur." he points out teasingly, in which Kat punches his shoulder.

"Ow! Hey!"

"You won't survive without my Viridium Spheres!"

He chuckles. "Alright, okay, we gotta get to the bottom of this figurine! You said you saw a bigger version of it in Phineas' Soulscape, right?" Whipping out his phone again, Dante puts the camera up to face the strange figurine and snaps a photo of it. Realizing what he's trying to do, Kat goes to his side and observes what he's doing. "Okay, Mr. Shiv's papers is one thing, but we can probably find something in the database regarding this figurine. Might as well put that photo recognition built into the phone to use and bother Phineas with a text message!"

Nodding, Kat watches the phone's screen pop up a loading meter, indicating the vast gigabytes of information they've stored inside each of their phones and the acceleration of the procedure. Okay, if there is information here and it matches, that could be the story behind this figurine. However, it's not going to authenticate if this is even the real thing. It may even just be an imitation…but if so, why imitate it in the first place?

The more she mulled over about the figurine's significance, the more she thought of accessing its powers, if it turns out to be an authentic piece (which already feels it is; it came from La Matier Angeliq herself, because why go through so much trouble?). The only other way for her to know the credibility of the object was to apply Retrocognition, the psychic ability to see the past. But this ability is not natural to her and she would need a whole ritual to apply such an ability, which would take hours, if not days! It would become redundant or worse, a waste of time and effort. It would be incredible, however, to find out the figurine's importance, what it had symbolized in its ancient era. A depiction of worship or as an artistic rendering of an important figure of a bygone society; either way, a potent immaterial ingredient indeed!

Provided I finally become an intermediate with metallurgy.

Glancing up the glass wardrobe, Kat studies the intricate details of the female and its hourglass being depicted. Just looking at the details of her simple, flowing tunic, long hair and lion headpiece obscuring half of her face has Kat questioning what exactly did she see when she first saw its life-sized version of it in Phineas' Soulscape. Had there been time, she would've asked about it; but now, Phineas is in too deep a large task, it's doubtful they'll even get his text message or call from Dante's sent photo of the figurine; and it'll be a while when she can discuss and train under him.

A flutter of the other gift shop employee's uniform has them looking away from the mysterious figurine and to her, just a slight, middle-aged woman with pleasant features and eyes that told anyone she was curious. She seems baffled, holding a gift box full of the items Kat is sure will purchase. "Sorry, excuse me, but I'm afraid we've ran out of the orange aragonite necklace you wanted. We do have blue aragonite pieces, if it's to your fancy."

Nodding, Kat replies, "Oh, yes, sure!"

The employee, Susan, comes to Kat's side and shows her to another shelf to present the blue aragonites and picks the item. Before turning away, Susan tells them, "Mr. Shiv will be with you shortly. But if you don't mind, let's have the first items billed while we wait?"

Finding that they're still waiting for both the database and Mr. Shiv's paperwork, Dante follows Kat to the cash register to pay the first items she wanted. As Susan and Kat are busy with the transactions, he nonchalantly looks at the décor and trinkets that still surround the payer's desk, glancing at the embroidered cloth work of two warriors and then at the shelf sporting modern merchandise next to it. His eyes glance at the door of the gift shop, concluding something; beyond the entrance-exit door, sure enough, there had been several people passing by, peering inside, while others were hesitant to come inside the shop and decided against it after seeing the two of them, hurrying down the hallway.

He scoffs, a wry look crossing his face. "Sorry if no one's come in."

Looking up to him with a sympathetic smile, Susan quips, "Trust me, the gift shop's usual cantankerous patrons are outside, so it's no bother. And the cleaning staff'll be here soon! Plus, Miss Kat's bought enough for a family, literally!"

"That's good!" Kat enthuses, but she tones it down politely. "And we won't be long! I mean, whatever reputation the gift shop might get because of us…we're sorry in advance!"

"Now don't be!" Susan replies with a quick wave of her hand. "You're welcome as long as the gift shop's active hours, provided you don't loiter!"

Susan finishes wrapping up the items in their gift box, a neat cardboard with a foldable handle, emblazoned on it the motel's name.

"Thank you very much!" Kat gratefully tells her, in which Susan simpers a 'you're welcome' as the transactions are made and the purchases given. Knowing they're still waiting, Susan decides to offer them some honeyed milk-tea and bourbons, which Kat declines (and forced Dante not to be gluttonous) and Dante imitates; but Susan was adamant to give them some and adds that they're not charged.

"Here we are!" She procures a tray of three glass cups and small plates, a pitcher of cool honeyed milk-tea and a jar full of dark biscuits sandwiched in pairs. They let her serve them the little sweet things (which was more on each small plate) and poured the creamy beverage on each glass. The entire set, appearing as if from a Rococo fairytale, was placed on the cashier desk, looking at-home with the rest of its intricate brethren.

"We're late for tea break, anyway, so better start. Many like it old-fashioned with hot tea and no other flavours. I'm usually with the other staff…but, oh, sorry, you are good company, so no worries! Go ahead, loves!" Susan clears her throat and is the first to bite on her bourbon, clearing away the awkward slip of her situation amidst this dire event.

Glancing at one another, Kat is tactful in her sympathy. "Well, without anyone here, it'll just be the two of us against those things out there. So, we're glad for anything kind towards us."

A sheepish grin and a wave of her hand, Susan replies, "oh, it's nothing," and they continue to enjoy the bourbon and cool milk tea. Not one for conversation with his mouth full of biscuits he's never had, Kat inquires further about the plaza and the social climate in certain areas.

"I say, you should've called services instead," she tells them. "The grocery, the convenience store and the gas has been doing its best to just sell out all the things and be done with this place, preferably after tomorrow! They'll be closing and won't want to deal with the crowd, especially since there aren't any shortages of charity supplies at all! It was just panic and demand from an overwhelming lot, thinking they won't have any! Serves them for giving in just for money. Reason is, we were informed about some of the supplies being delivered instead to the main town and via ship. But they haven't even run out at all! So save yourselves some time and just call for the motel staff. Mr. Aggi's always on the line, even the wee hours. I'm sure he'll find some arrangements. Not to mention the authorities have been doing their best to inform and safeguard the citizens…"

In that sentence, Kat tightens her lips dubiously and Susan makes a very apologetic and sheepish look. "Well, people will become restless knowing they just left their homes from something they don't know, what we don't know."

Nodding, Kat understands and asks, "Mr. Aggi did say something about a beauty salon and even a clothing store being open?"

"Hm, right. The thing is, they're functioning out of morality, instead of demand. Not a lot people are wanting to have a massage and a treatment when there's the end of the world just outside. But both the salon and clothing store learned from the grocery and convenience stores, so they're on 'self-lockdown'. They only let in a number of customers and will not settle for discounts or bargains. Both of them are family-run and…well, I only know that certain of their people have already lost kin from both the other towns, so…this is their way of distraction, until they can recover…anyone. And that money they're making would surely help them."

His slow chewing of the biscuits inside his mouth became even slower; they taste nothing at all anymore. Kat's head gradually dips, her biscuit remaining still in her hand, having bitten on once.

Waving her hands, Susan clarifies further, "Not that there aren't families lost amongst the others, mind! It's just…things have made people do what they can and what they think is right. So, you know, just be patient and understanding. Ignore most of them when they give you a hard stare or anything. Report them to the cops, they will be reprimanded and they will still treat offences, but be perceptive. We don't need to escalate anything. You won't see them again, anyway."

With those said, the two hunters glance sheepishly at one another. A quiet agreement settling between them regarding the 'social climate' of the situation, they are indeed grateful for the advice and know-how of Susan of The Gift Shop.

As minutes tick by and the bourbons going down in numbers (mostly because Dante had eaten more than half), Kat had gone on perusing a small book she just bought, written by La Matier Angeliq, called 'The Prose and Poems of Watchful Wolves'. She had thought it fitting, after all, to know the creative mind of one of the oldest figures living in their generation. Susan began introducing titbits about the book, as some had been written for school books and had been a staple for three generations already, compiled to form a cohesive theme. She points to one in particular that strikes her to this day:

"Blue is Human"

The skies, the oceans, the mountains

The veins of the living and the carcass of the dead

The pulsing wires and the crack of lightning

The melancholy, the calm, the happiness

Both rarest and familiar

Even as pale eyes

But only when Crowned

By the Winged Judge's Roses

Is it no longer

Human

"Quite…a morbid piece," Kat remarks. "I had thought she'd be a warmer lady."

The gift shop agent laughed, but with a knowing look, Susan adds, "Oh, you'd be right, she is. But she is old, she's lived so long now. But they say Ms. Agilulf left clues of some sort for a hidden treasure amongst her work. So far, no one is able to prove otherwise!"

The reprieve halts as the familiar clacking of Mr. Shiv's shoes comes out, holding the folder containing information. Looking at his smartphone, Dante nudges Kat's elbow before bringing up the screen for Kat to see, a grin on his face. She gasps excitedly at the matching picture of the statuette.

"Alright! Apologies, was on the phone, talking to a supervisor from Ferino Co., but here we have it!" Mr. Shiv cheers, oblivious to the sour face Dante made when he mentioned that company name. He glances at them and at the tea tray and is pleasantly surprised that they liked the bourbons!

"Save some for me…" Mr. Shiv whispered to Susan, who had exchanged how most of the bourbons had disappeared because of Dante, as she takes the tray back behind the shop.

"Right this way, again, please!" With so much energy, he leads them back to the glass wardrobe. Clutching a huge folder, Mr. Shiv opens it and begins reading aloud the details of the figurine:

"Here we are! The figurine is one of many authentic replicas of a lost statue that no longer exists (Dante glances at Kat, passing a knowing look at her), as theorized by many experts specializing in studying texts and artefacts on 'Venus Figures'. This is considered an authentic replica through modern tests. She and her 'sisters' were discovered in ancient sites in various Mediterranean, Eastern European, Central and North Asian territories in the early 20th century. Unfortunately, during that era, there was an obsessive fad for collecting historical and cultural items, and so most had ended up becoming 'decorative pieces' throughout American, European and African nations. This one, in particular, was recently salvaged from a manor somewhere in New Kali City three decades ago and was decided that it can be sold under an antique specialist in Wolfhaven. Her slightly larger 'sister', and the only one so far discovered to be of that size, is in New Kali City's historical art museum. There is a general debate that the figurine depicts either an ancient war goddess or fertility goddess, or both, and the contention whether or not the hourglass was a mere addition by the creators is still ongoing. Her name is also widely debated, as experts are still trying to pinpoint who the creators are even depicting and what she was for, and remains unnamed, although she does have placeholder names for public knowledge: she is known as Ishara, a goddess of unknown origins, possibly Hittite, a goddess of fertility and oath; as Inanna II, as stories revolving her are similar with the Mesopotamian goddess, Ishtar. Lastly, as Sachmis, worshipped by a small Egyptian cult that managed to survive in Grecian territories before the Roman conquerors took over."

Intently listening to Mr. Shiv's summation of the figurine's profile, Kat slowly looks up to Dante, who is scanning the matched profile on the smartphone's database as well. He appears satisfied, finding the information a close match.

"Would you like to hold it for yourself?" Mr. Shiv suggests as he rifles to the next page of the folder.

"Yes, why not?" Kat answered. Susan was then asked to procure for the glass wardrobe. Inserting the key, the two shop owners pull open the wardrobe and carefully pried the mysterious figurine from its shelf. Mr. Shiv hands the figurine to Kat and inspects what's underneath the bowl-shaped base. Surprisingly, she finds two sets of languages crudely marked, indented poorly by a sharp tool, on its metallic surface: one is written in an archaic Proto-linguistic alphabet, the other in ancient runes only used by 'magicians' in a bygone era, mostly unknown by mainstream experts and, because of both secrecy and ostracism, from their other ancient brethren.

She motions for Dante to snap a photo of it, which he saves in a new folder and sends to Phineas (whom they both hope would answer soon). Mr. Shiv continues to describe its physical specifications: a 1:12 scale statuette, with a 10 inch bowl that supports the female character and her hourglass on her back, and weighs 7 pounds.

Kat hands the figurine, finding it hard to lift it for too long, for Dante to study it himself; she had expected him to merely look at it so offhandedly, but she observes how a gamut of emotions surfaces. She can't tell what he is feeling or thinking, only watch in concern as his brows furrowed and his gaze unblinking at the figurine's obscured face.

Then Dante murmurs, "Nishkara…"

The three of them stared at him, confused; although Kat is becoming anxious. Mr. Shiv mutters, "I beg your pardon, sir?"

Glancing up to the people staring at him bafflingly and a hint of concern, Dante clears his throat and gives back the figurine to Mr. Shiv. He nods as he tries to reassure them futilely. "Y-yeah. Sorry. Here."

It was settled. Weird as it was, Kat had her mind set.

"Thank you for purchasing in our gift shop!" Mr. Shiv jovially says as they turn to leave. "We shall deliver the figurine personally into your room tomorrow!"

When they left the shop, the cleaning staff had arrived; they apparently don't have the same views as the twin managers and as Susan regarding the two hunters. But it's not their issue. They have bigger, more mysterious fishes to dissect before frying.

They decided to head back to their room to drop off Kat's purchases. Sure enough, not only were they met by almost the same motel neighbours from earlier, Officer Sanders and another officer are standing guard in front of 209. Taking Susan's advice from earlier to heart, they ignored all the townsfolk's passive-aggressive comments of belonging with the demon infestation and presented the room key card and Kat's shopping.

"Can we go inside?" Officer Sanders asks, almost begging. Without any reluctance, they let in the two officers inside and, locking the door, the two sighed in relief. "Oh man, those folks out there! They're gonna be at this a long while."

"Stay at it," said the other officer, his expression grim. "Just a few more hours and we're good to go. Thanks, by the way."

"It's no big deal." Kat assures as she sets her gift shop items next to her belongings in the right side of the room, closer to the window. She glances at the whole room and is glad that Mr. Shiv had his staff deliver their groceries and five stacks of old newspapers and other papers. Is he really even just a motel manager at this point? She was sure to remember to give something back for him and the rest of the Red Grave Motel staff.

Pulling back the slightly drawn curtains, Kat notes how the afternoon has grown into evening, with the trees and silhouettes of people and faraway animals are mere dark colors against the misty setting. Turning to see the clock at one of the bedside tables, she felt that 4:45 pm in the early evening/late noon should still be a bit sunny, but realized uncannily how her body and mind had been second-naturedly in sync with the true summer season, versus the reality of what has the demonic powers has done to drastically change the season to a winter.

Sighing dejectedly and trying not to sink into reality, she turns to look at Dante and hoped that he didn't see her reacting. At the kitchenette corner with the other officer, Dante is busy speaking with him with his smartphone up, showing him something that has his rapt attention. She smiles; a few hours ago, Dante was more than eager to toy the police like it was nothing. Now, though, the changing tides have shown that she and Dante are too important for anymore of the past grievances (although, Kat believes Dante isn't entirely over that) and making amends is a step towards a better tomorrow despite the uncertain future still hanging over them all. And his willingness for change makes her happy.

"Dante, let's go."

Without any word, he gets up from leaning against the kitchenette counter and finishes what he has to say to the officer, with Officer Sanders nodding along. "…and don't forget about my strawberry bourbons!"

Kat couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Bribing already?"

He defensively shrugs his shoulders at her. "It's the little things, Kat! Besides, sent them some of the info about the figurine and what I know…I think."

Putting her hands on her hips, her expression becomes exasperated. "What do you know? What was that weird word you just said?"

He becomes defensive again, but this time glancing away from her and searching the ceiling for answers. "I…I don't know! It just…it came out of nowhere and internally all at the same time! I said 'Nishkara' and…well, there aren't any in the database on the phone about it! And Phineas hasn't answered back."

Becoming sympathetic and looking at the cops' reactions of concern and confusion, Kat decides to dial it down. "Okay, okay. Listen, we're going to observe the figurine. I'm going to do some tests, maybe, with what I know, see how the figurine reacts and how you would react to it. We'll figure her out eventually, even without Phineas' help."

Nodding his head nonchalantly, he murmurs, "Yeah, sure, that's the plan," and moves on.

Smartly on cue and without any trace of being affected, Officer Sanders informs them of the figurine's secure transport and encasement here. "There'll be more guards stationed around the motel, particularly below the room's window. We're making sure no one comes in or gets away with anything."

"Thank you so much." Kat says appreciatively.

"Yeah, grateful, really am." Dante mutters half-heartedly, likely still bummed about the figurine and the townsfolk outside.

As they left the room, he had asked where they're supposed to go now, which Kat does whisper back to him as an answer, hoping none of the townsfolk and even the snoops (which they have yet to encounter, but they're likely blending in) would overhear, and fully explained them to him. He was half-listening to his friend, however, still a bit ruffled about having agreed to adopt the strange figurine from an old lady they barely know. But he was too curious to be anxious or paranoid about the thing to never know, or end up smashing it to bits with his own fist. He figured that, if he understood it, then he'll be prepared for anything similar in the future. Of course, the risk of releasing the figurine's powers without their knowledge makes him uneasy. Who else can they turn to if it turned out it had activated already?

But that's the thing…neither of them sensed anything malevolent from the figurine! If it's just a historical item then more boon for them and an advantage for Kat's spells' efficacy. But if it's not and they've let their curiosity got the better of them…

"So what do you think?" Kat asked him, turning to see if he would agree, but his only reaction was blinking several times at her, baffled. "Are you okay?"

"Umm," Dante was unsure what to say; he wanted to tell her, but he was unsure how clear it would come out.

"Did you hear what I said?" She asks, her diction slow and murmured. When she placed her hand on his shoulder, he knew he had to act.

He shook his head, his expression glum. "No. You, uh, mind if we go to that area near the police? There're less of these townsfolk there so they don't hear us."

Nodding, Kat leads their walk to the western side of the whole tourist plaza, where the large marquee and a throng of police officers, with varying degrees of uniforms and guns, pacing in and out of the marquee or to stand guard on their perimeter. Surrounding their marquee are trees across the open lowland and their neatly-organized vehicles, ranging from motorcycles to armoured vehicles, which are also guarded closely by officers. As they pass by, a few of the officers close to their figures stand to face them and make a salute. Amicably grinning at them, Dante even tells them, "At ease, soldiers," before strutting away, feeling superior at being greeted as such. Kat turns at him with a disapproving scowl, with him defensively gesturing at her, which she rolls her eyes at and continues on.

Picking a tree close to their parked vehicles by at least three meters away, for privacy and being at close range under their watchful eyes, Dante sits at one of the tree's trunks and Kat following suit next to him. At her estimation, they must've walked ninety meters away from the main pathway going in the gas station of the tourist plaza. At this distance, despite the townsfolk and authorities overcrowding the commercial yet humble design of the service station and tourist plaza, she can appreciate the thought process behind making their architectures appealing to tourists and locals alike: the very über-modern aesthetic of the gas station and tourist plaza, contrasting the older 19th to 20th century architecture of the preserved Red Grave Motel and the pub, as if appearing out of rural postcard pictures and both at end corners of their modern 'little sisters'.

Kat clears her throat, looking up at him expectantly. He sighs, preparing the words inside his head. "So, uh, what did you say?"

Propping up one knee to relax her splint left arm, Kat begins, "I suggested we go check out the salon and clothing store. Get some R and R, but you weren't listening."

Apologetic, Dante licks his lips before divulging her of the whole thing. "Sorry, I…I don't know what came over me. I don't know if that counts as…possessed? I mean, I don't think I've ever been possessed in the last thirteen years of my life. I think the demons would've found that useful and they should've done that to me, take me as their property. Maybe that's what Lamia intended, when she took me. Maybe she wanted to use me, but…" He chuckles humourlessly, shoving Lamia off his head and off the topic.

He continues, "Anyway, so…what happened at the gift shop, when I said that name…"

At that word, Kat's eyes grew round. "So it is a name! Was it…whispered to you?"

"I think so." Actually, it was so! But voicing out the truth meant, to him, giving their uncertain and uncontrolled issue its own power! "Inside my head." I'm sorry, Kat.

She shakes her head. "No, it's not possession. Trust me." Her reassuring tone seems to give him some relief. She explains, "Demons had tried to do that to…me, and to the other children and teenagers, before…when I was at their child center and when…when I was with my stepfather. It's okay." She puts her hands on his shoulders to soothe Dante, seeing his anger rising up again. She knew how screwed up their pasts are and there are details she hasn't filled up yet, not because she refused to open up, but they had been best friends for only the last few days. She's sure, they will have all the time in the world and she'll get to open up to Dante, and he to her…if they will and have the time, whenever that could be.

Shaking off her own feelings of their ambiguous future, she continues to explain. "But, to Possess a body, a demon must Possess the target's soul before taking control as the new host. That's one of the ways those Spotters are made. Since I can Project my soul, they've failed to take me…multiple times."

His electric-blue eyes glimmer with hope and he says, grinning, "Well, that just proves how strong you are."

Smiling back, she tells him, "Well, it also proves just how keen and sensitive you are. Your own spiritual awareness helps you become immune against their psychical assaults and is going to help us narrow down 'Nishkara'."

Pretending, he nods, trying to maintain his smile. "…Yeah."

And with that, she stands up and looks at the service station again. Looking up at her, he admires how she wants to see everything through, wants to prove her ideals aren't fantasies.

Truthfully, he would've still been the same lost soul as he was before if Commissioner Morrison found him without Kat; that old man would be relying on a volatile husk and he would've likely not cared at all for that Harpy-shooter…

Perhaps he was giving his pessimism too much credit and had been denying what Kat, Morrison, Phineas and that mentally-challenged-but-golden-hearted Harpy-shooter had already seen in him. For the last six years and even, sometimes, today, there was that question that still weighs down inside his heart whenever he thought about how worthy he is of living: if one's not a human, is one worthy of anything at all?

He had several answers to that, one of which was ripping his chest open once…it was a dangerous mistake and a sure-fire way of scaring off anyone inside the men's room at that time. Recently, he thought how stupid it is to ask something like that. Angels and demons have been claiming things left and right; his own twin brother and his new ally have the balls to lead a massacre, in order to do what it is they deem is necessary.

Him and Kat?

Well, there have been signs and whispers from powers beyond their understanding; townsfolk glaring and authorities at their wits' end. And the town of Rochenmore, recently infested and likely still harbouring survivors.

He was—is—a volatile cocoon biding his time before bursting out. And Kat's will is like the twinkle of Venus against the blackest, starless night sky.

That question can wait, as well as a number of others. He knows what they ought to do next!

As if sensing his newfound purpose, Kat glances down at him and holds out her left hand, her braced hand, for him to take. Beaming, he takes it and stands up next to her.

She tells him, "You know, we shouldn't be so down in the dumps! We have the groceries! Mr. Shiv, Susan, the authorities, heck even that guy from Ferino Co., they're helping us! We have supplies and they'll give us more if we ask for them! We're not alone in this, Dante! We have to celebrate!"

He smirks. "Too bad the liquor store sold out. Too many adults want to get wasted during the apocalypse."

She groans, to his amusement. "I was more referring to a relaxing sort of celebration!" She points to another façade of the tourist plaza's joined buildings and he looks up over the remaining stores and services open: a beauty salon/spa service shop and a clothing store on the second floor. "As I had suggested!"

Oh, right. "Okay…" Maybe she's getting too idealistic.

"Think about it: hair, massage and skin care!" She enthusiastically tells him. "And new clothes!"

It's ironic; Dante is usually the reckless 'idea-man', except when it comes to spending money. But perhaps his distrust of social situations or public places is a factor to consider. "We already have clothes from back home! I mean, what else should we wear?"

"In case you haven't noticed, the demons have changed the season! We need winter gear! Inner layers, outer layers! Thick clothes—"

"You have two sweaters and a blanket."

"What if those won't be enough? A blizzard will show up! You think they won't do that? And you drag that blanket for your own!"

"I can just hug you."

"No!"

"I'm very warm—"

"No!"

That was punctuated with a punch as he chuckles at her being vexed.

"Okay, okay! Shopping with a boat-load of money to spare?! Let's see if anyone would even let us in."

This time, Kat smirks, placing her hands on her hips. "We can give them the ultimatum: let us in and have our money, or, if they see we misbehave, then they can refuse service."

He cringes at this idea. "That's…not good. Why do we need to go to the salon, anyway? If you feel sorry because they have families to feed, that's not a good mentality. They don't need charity, coz they have some already, probably."

"No! Of course not!" She says, although her defensive tone and pink cheeks says otherwise. "I think we deserve good treatment! Preferably, good hair treatments."

Shrugging his shoulders, he quips, "Maybe you need one. I don't wanna…"

"You should have one! And yes, I'm aware that you've been cutting your own hair because you don't want to risk where people could identify you, like in a barber shop! I get it! But you're not a professional!" Kat points out as she taps his shoulder before gesturing her hand across his head. He pouts, feeling a bit self-conscious, even though he admits—deep inside—his self-taught skills with arts-and-crafts scissors and mirrors in public bathrooms are borderline a joke and a nightmare if a hairstylist would see that.

"Your hair grew longer, like they're-covering-your-eyes long! And yes, I was morbidly joking that you can drag your own blanket across the snow! No! You've been magically-wearing the same clothes for some reason, you're getting new clothes—!"

"Okay, one, I'm a constantly rapid-cell-regenerating-growing boy!"

"Tsk, the hell you and your hair are!"

"And second…"

"What?!"

Her being so highly-vexed is breaking his confidence apart. He needn't admit he's lacking certain necessary clothing. "I'll…I'll buy some underwear. Okay? Happy? There."

"And you'll need a beauty treatment! Like seriously need it!"

"Okay!"

"Good!"

And with that, he was able to bury 'Nishkara' and all his other questions for next time. Maybe this is for the best. Getting R and R isn't important, but it is something many people do and maybe people, like him, deserve something just the same. Just some peace and relaxation. He grinned. He slyly murmurs, "Bet the teens are gonna get hammered with their parents' alcohol and their folks'll be too hungover to do something about it. Jealous."

Kat remains quiet about that, frowning while looking ahead.

That amusingly grim sentiment remained inside his head, keeping him distracted from the constantly disapproving townsfolk that surrounded them or passed them by, even as they walked up the stairs of the tourist plaza building. The number of people dropped instantaneously once they reached the second floor. It looked almost like a ghost town, with a number of restaurants, stores and even a dental office is shuttered down. Only looking below the shatter-proof glass balustrade that reveals the area is still populous.

Looking for the two remaining 'open' services, they realized that the clothing store, 'Fashion Fatigue', and the salon, 'Beauty License', are only one shuttered store separated from one another. 'Beauty License' can be seen from below, as its shop is stationed at the second floor's deck area, while 'Fashion Fatigue' is among the others in the plaza interior. Deciding the beauty salon to go to first, Kat reasons a massage, a facial and hair treatment and some ambient relaxation was beginning to sound like a sure-fire way to melt the whole day's stress away. But Dante can tell she was beginning to have second thoughts about her own idea. Despite the pastel lights and decor, it looks oxymoronic and intimidating as, true to Susan's word, the salon's neon sign says 'open' but their shutters are down. Yet the sounds of low chatter and footsteps can be heard; and the likelihood someone's peering outside from the inside is only a matter of time and giving a damn. Kat was hesitant to knock, so Dante took it upon him to rap against the metal frame of the salon's door.

They waited, even stepping back from the door, as they watched a few figures walk closer to the metal shutters; a few pairs of eyes peered at them before they unlocked the shutters and pushed it up to reveal the people inside.

"Mr. Dante, Miss Kat!"

Pleasantly surprised once again, but this time seeing double, Mr. Shiv and his twin, the concierge member, Mr. Aggi, greets them from behind the glass door, following behind the two owners of the salon, fully opening the shutters and unlocking the door.

"Come inside! Come inside!" The twins, covered in black chair cloths and Mr. Shiv in a facial mask, are jovially gesturing for them to come inside, even though the actual members of the salon remain apathetic, patiently waiting for them to get through the entrance. "They have wonderful nail services and the best nourishing hair products! Mostly from local-grown brands!"

Two other employees are gesturing to the twin motel staff to go back to their seats and continue the services, while the cashier motions for the first two to re-close the doors and shutters as they come inside. Of course, the atmosphere remains…stiff and awkward. There are four others already seated on their chairs being attended, glancing away and pretending to look at their phones or magazine as the stylists quietly did their job. Taking it upon herself, Kat smiles warmly and procures three bills for the cashier to take. The man behind the counter had been looking at them cautiously; but when his eyes dropped at Kat's envelope full of money and producing the bills, there was a slight shift in his behaviour.

"Uh, we'd like to get the, um, full package? If that's what's called, or if there's, like, a section for hair, body—"

As she tried to explain, the cashier slowly accepted the money, placed the bills inside the tray of the register then disappeared below the desk, pulling something out; as he resurfaces, he produces a ringed book binder. He opens it and presents all the services they can do.

"This is a list of services for hair, nails, body and facial treatments and makeover." He starts, flourishing the whole selection for her. "If you want to try out all of our services, then I will suggest getting the regular packages, so we have the Regular Hair Styling Pack: it's for hair cleansing plus hairstyle or cut of choice. Then, the Regular Mani-Pedi Pack: with or without nail color, it includes a quick hand and foot beauty treatments. Then, for the face and body, we offer the Light Polish Pack: cleansing, exfoliation and massage, with half arms and legs hair removal. The facial treatment also has cleansing and with our gentle exfoliation mask and then moisturizer, with a brow hair removal. That Pack however, doesn't include the makeup, so that would be an additional charge if you want."

The cashier remains professionally stoic, patiently waiting for their new controversial customers to get over they're not being kicked out—as noted by the young woman's very wide-eyed hopeful stare and her boy friend's slightly taken aback figure, his eyes shifting at him, then to his friend, and sometimes, looking around the store to see anyone emoting an opposition—and the selection of choices presented for them. And he does admit, deeply, that he would like them to stay…provided there is unfounded danger in harbouring them in their place of business.

"Wow, I—Dante, what do you think?" She looks up to her male companion—undoubtedly blurring the line of roguishness and handsomeness in an unnamed illegal act—who does scrutinize the selection. His girl friend continues, "I'm getting the regular packages! I mean, just look at me! I'm a mess."

"A cute mess." He adds, a mix patronizing but also just to amuse her. Trying to repress a smile, the cashier swallows his amusement down, as well as his internalized gushing about how adorable their bantering is. It's been quiet for two days, ever since he got a call from his friends and family in Edenville on the first day of that incident, and his agonized companionship with his workers, as they wept and hoped for the nightmare to end…

He studies the young woman's face and he can see she might not even be of legal age yet. He rather liked her large, grey-green eyes.

She groans at her friend's words. "Well, if I had my own time. But unfortunately, no. I mean, I'll say I haven't cleaned up my armpit hairs on my own. Sorry," She admits as she looks quite dejected. "I'll take the ones you suggested."

"Ugh, same." He states nonchalantly, though it's likely because he couldn't make up his mind. "If I fall asleep during massage, just wake me up."

The cashier types in the transactions and the salon workers that have been waiting for them get to work.

They apologised being understaffed due to the 'unforeseen' circumstances and that it will take a while for another staff specializing for that particular package or job to circle back to them. With all that said, Dante was led to another room where he'll have his Light Polish Pack first, while Kat stayed at the main room for her hair treatment, cut and nails. As two of the salon workers lead him there, he suddenly declares, "Oh, I hope there's no Secret Naughty Package waiting for me at the massage bed. I'd like to keep a tight budget."

Cringing, Kat glances at the staff member closest to her and murmurs, "You can forget about him when he falls asleep. Just…leave him."

The staff she had told this chuckled. "Oh, we've had worse. I'm sure he's only going for some jokes. I think we've needed some light heartedness for a while."

As she sighs in relief at how no one took Dante's joke at the slightest mind, Kat lets her nervousness finally slide off, as a chair cloth is placed over her shoulders, while another hair specialist gestures for her to have her shampoo and conditioner first. Next to her is Mr. Aggi, his hair soaked gently as the shampoo is washed off. He glances up to her, a relaxed grin on his overall placid figure, and gives her a thumbs-up.

As her hair is finally given its long-deserved and –awaited caring treatment, the gentle wash of the water seems to magically rinse away the stresses of the last previous hours that passed this whole day; the sound of the water rinsing against her hair and being drained down the sink gave her tingles across her head and shoulders. She couldn't believe it; so much has happened in a span of ten or so hours, and of course, there's more to come just after they do this. But she found she can't focus on her worries at all; the ten-minute treatment felt too divine.

As she gets up from the showering section and onto the barber chair, a hairstylist finally moves on to her from a recently finished client as she towels her hair dry. He gives her a book of hairstyles to consider for her short, thin hair while he prepared a new set of tools on a moving table. Considering her face and already short hair and asymmetrical side fringes, she knew a pixie cut was the only way.

"Have you thought of the style you like?" the hairstylist asks, peering over her and at the mirror in front, as he fingers on her still damp hair.

"A pixie cut. But I'm…scared of these ones I keep seeing," Kat explains as she shows a selection of spiky, sweeping, layered and fringed pixie cuts on the hairstyle book.

Ruminative, the hairstylist flips the book to another page then shows more short hairstyles that are more elegant and simple. "How about these ones? Practical, will fit most face shapes and hair types. Maybe this one?"

And she agreed! When he pointed his finger at that picture sample, Kat immediately nodded. "Yes. It's perfect."

"Yeah, let's go," he enthuses, preparing to comb her hair to strategically cut the right strands off. "It's not just practical. It's going to be timeless…unless they grow out, but you know, you can come back here…I mean! Well, you know, get it trimmed. It doesn't have to be here."

Kat grins softly as he sets to work. She understood that they aren't going to be friends, but at least there is a respectable companionship forming. She closed her eyes the entire time; she just listened to the snipping sounds of his precise scissors and the quick sweeps of his comb going through her short tresses, as little by little, her old hair fell away to the floor.

She opened her eyes because there hasn't been movement for a minute or so, and is glad to find Mr. Aggi and Mr. Shiv taking their seats in the lounge after their refreshing beauty treatments…

…and at the final product that is her hair! She turned her head around, looking directly at her reflection as she studies the smooth shape of her hair at the back of her head; then at her asymmetrical fringe, framing the top centimetres of her forehead. The fringes are very short, but delicately cut; no sharp edges, no chunks of layers! The hair near her ears are short, but shaped like inverted triangles at the sides of her face, framing and showing her pretty heart-shaped face so well!

"Sorry, not done yet!" The hairstylist came back after running from the back of the salon. He holds up a dark glass bottle for her, "Got to get this special hair tonic as part of the treatment! Anyway, on with the final touches!"

As he expertly continues, Kat is entranced at the little details of hair he deemed unnecessary as her hair is shaped and trimmed to how he perceives suits the best for her. And she couldn't help but murmur praises.

"You like it?" He asks her as he sets the blow dryer ready.

"I love it." She says beaming, and this infectiously has the hairstylist smiling as well.

Maybe because it has been a while since she had a complete stranger care for her; her former friends at the Order ('may they rest in peace') had been the closest thing as what an idealised family is she had experienced…but there were the missions, the constant threat of being discovered…Then there were those monthly hair trims back at the child center, all those years ago…they were not this good.

But the old years are certainly not coming back.

"And we are done!" He says cheerfully, taking the chair cloth off her and brushing away stray strands of hair out of her hoodie jacket, with a soft brush.

She touches the smooth, coconut-scented pixie cut that frames her face so well! She even shakes her head to see how the trimmed tresses would bounce around her head; she curls her fingers across her scalp to feel how soft and conditioned her scalp is! This has never happened! And definitely not with the dollar-priced toiletries she had to tolerate for years! It must've been the hair tonic!

"Hey, hey, hey! Ma'am!" The hairstylist scolded, stopping her. "I just meticulously got your hair really chic! Please, I know you look great now!"

"Yeah, sorry, I know!" Kat apologises, but even as she flattens her hair down, a wide grin is across her face.

Procuring a hairbrush and the tonic, the hairstylist went back to smoothen her hair again. "You liked that hair from the samples to look like a brunette Mia Farrow. Now look what you did! You look like you went to a punk mosh pit!"

She chuckles, blushing, at being compared to some iconic actress for having the pixie cut and at the words 'punk mosh pit'. "Oh, I've seen some and don't plan to participate!"

"Hm, but your boyfriend looks like mosh pit material." The hairstylist comments casually, to Kat's shock. "No offence, but he looks like he came from one. But I dig! He's cute."

"We're just friends." Kat assures as the hairstylist puts his tools down.

He glances at her, sceptical. But his expression becomes playful. "Oh, okay, sure. But I guess that means more chances for others to snag him."

With a sly grin, she responds, "I'm sure he won't mind…but he does need to trust someone first. He's a softie deep inside."

"Oh? Cuter." The hairstylist adds, gushing. "Okay, I think it's time for the mani-pedi…"

As she's led to another chair with two more staff members waiting for her, the other two who were giving Dante his Light Polish Pack has finally, finally finished it! They weren't sure if they want the whole thing to end or have to do it longer, especially realizing how they enjoyed his semi-nudity the whole time (he's wearing provided swim shorts)! And even learning about his body…but not quite how anyone thinks!

His little joke about how they're probably harbouring a 'secret' sexual service got their eyes rolling and they planned to hyper-tolerate any more crudeness from him. But as the session goes on, they realized that his jokes were more self-deprecating and on puns, just revealing how little of what he knew of a respectable salon is and mocking sex conspiracies associated with salons. And they found themselves laughing at them, becoming comfortable being around him while he became more confused, impressed and eventually sleepy.

"So all these fear-mongering extremists, posting online and even yelling in public about the 'dangers of sexual treatments' in spa services, oooh, scary!" He iterates, earning him chuckles from the massage specialists as they exfoliated his body. "Like, dude, seriously, if you don't want a massage from your local barber anymore because you don't like sex and fear that you'll turn gay from a simple shoulder massage, then by all means, don't come to any of these barbers and salons. We'll be at peace without ya, while we get the best French tips and get wrestled in an ancient deep-tissue Turkish massage! I'll be at the hospital after that!"

"Will you be?" One of them asked, grinning. "I thought you're all badass and strong."

"True, but I've never encountered a deep-tissue masseuse before, so I'll be in a coma." He jokes. "Positive is, best sleep it's gonna be."

They had been having a difficult and hilarious session with him, explaining to him what 'polishing' meant as an aesthetic term, and he counters how he had been doing it all wrong the whole time, "…so my at-home 'polishing sessions' just involves my left hand, tissues and a lotion! Oh boy, I need to exfoliate to get that blood flowing!"

"Do not exfoliate your nether regions!" One of them managed to warn him amidst laughing.

"Really? Okay," he says, mocking a serious nod with a placid grin on his face. "You ladies are the experts so, just the usual 'polishing' next time."

The double entendre didn't escape the two massage specialists! A renewed whoop of laughter escapes their lips as they pointed at him! "Oh, crud, good one! Come on, let's just wax him, before we can't function here anymore!"

Drying his body up in a cubicle where it automatically cools damp skin, the specialists prepare the bed for hair removal. One of them, however, had slinked their gaze at him, both in awe and bafflement; she points out that there's very little, or rather very thin, body hair on him. And very little imagination when it came to his tall, athletic body.

"So, uh, what's next?" He asks as he steps out of the cubicle. The two of them hurriedly went back to fixing the whole bed station, becoming aware they've been ogling at their client.

"I'll be doing hair removal, while Dana goes for the facial treatment." One of them says as they spread out the towels smoothly and the tools needed set on their sides.

"Well, I know, deep down, getting a facial won't change people's opinions, 'specially to me," he begins to share as they set to work, "but I guess I'll look less a wanted man before, after I'll be a wanted man with smooth skin and trimmed hair."

"You'll look great on their profiling pictures." One of them jests, which earns her a chuckle.

"That's right! And in jail, I'll be monikered the 'smooth skin criminal'. I can moonwalk with nothing but my ultra-smooth bare feet."

They shake their heads at the mental image of him barefoot, in orange overalls, moonwalking his way to his prison cell. Dark, yet the amusement was a good distraction away from the fact they decided to have the salon open during these times. Deeply, they do feel grateful and work distances them from the reality outside. But once this guy's sessions are over, he and his female companion—Kat, was it?—would be moving on to fulfil what they came here for…

That question did hang in the air…

"Oh, whoa, what the—?!" The hair removal specialist stopped what she was doing as she ogled at his leg. She had been waxing a section of his skin, and went to renew her wax strips, came back to find that the section she had just waxed had left his skin becoming pink and bumpy! Like how someone is getting goosebumps or tingles across their skin, except the pores where the leg hairs had been are starting to—!

The specialist abruptly halts his facial and stands up to see what's happened, going next to her friend's side, with Dante sitting up to see at the once-waxed section of his lower leg! He can feel it tingle, but it was akin to how he normally felt like a prickling sensation after a sticky strip is taken off his skin. Or, perhaps, when his wounds would heal at a rapid pace—!

"Oh, shit…" He murmured, realizing how futile waxing—or having a hair removal treatment—is against his body. The rectangular patch of skin with his bumpy-looking pores sprouted new baby hairs instantly! And as if they are in fast-forward, his leg hairs grew in centimeters, becoming thinner, longer, until the skin relaxed and smoothened to how it had been before it had been waxed, his thin leg hairs grown to normal!

The two specialists eyed one another and back to Dante, who was, at first, shocked, but he blinks and puts his tongue against his cheek, thinking. Finally, he says, "Well, just facial and massage, then. No more hair removal."

And that was that. Dante was pleasant and enjoyed learning what each product does for his face. One does admit that his face, particularly his bright, electric-blue eyes and his wide smile, does light up their mood. Besides the two motel managers, the last two days has seen a group of dismal customers who wanted to get away from the cold fact that they are displaced. The massage rooms had been very empty, although it's no secret how most of the staff would rather not be at the main hairstyling room, where the stiff, piercing silence reminded them that the money was for…is for the time they can finally go to Edenville…

This is their reprieve, even though for just one or two hours.

Another specialist had come in to massage his legs and commented when they'll do hair removal, to which one of them clarifies that he's cancelled that part and will be billed a different package. As they finish the facial treatment and move on to back massaging him, there is a quiet agreement that they rather liked looking at him: his deltoids, the curve of his back, down to a good well-rounded posterior. His long legs, although quite smooth before the polish, now has a healthy glow across his skin, highlighting the bulge of muscles from his upper thighs and down to his calves. As they did their gentle massage on him, one of the specialists turns on a scent diffuser, filling the room with a calmly scent of sandalwood. And before they knew it, Dante had fallen asleep.

"Sir?" One of them looked down and realized he had slept while they were done. Deciding to let him nap a little longer, they cleaned up their station and presented his folded clothes on a chair for him to wear again. His female companion had just finished her two packages and is in the next room getting ready for hers.

"He's asleep." One of them mentions to Kat. She smirks and says, "Knew it," and asks if she can personally wake him up, and they nod affirmatively.

Creeping into the room, she snickers at his two-third bared body prone across the massage bed and quietly makes her way to his left side. Her fingers shoot out to tickle against his waist and he bursts awake from the bed, yelping and laughing in panic! Kat had stopped tickling him the moment his eyes went wide, but her laughter had her coming down the floor in hysterics! At first clutching his body to defend himself from her tickling, Dante hops off the bed and tries to tickle Kat as vengeance! She guffaws and has her hands up, but Dante is merely poking against her palms, her ears, neck, leg, armpit, wherever she cannot block because of his quickness, but without any real force. The two friends are sprawled across the floor, hysterically laughing their heads off when the manager—the cashier man from earlier—reminds them that they need to get their business finished.

"Sorry, sorry." Kat apologises as she straightens herself up, with Dante not far behind.

"Look, it's okay," said the manager, his voice soft and low. His whole body language told them this was to be done in confidence. "But we still have two more clients and…they have very different opinions about you two. If it weren't for the motel staff—who just left, by the way, but more on them later—we would've never let you in. Really. It's nothing personal. It's business."

"Right." Dante agrees coolly. "So, I guess I should go out there and have my haircut and she can have her massage…And we'll be out of here." Quietly, Kat goes to leave the room while Dante puts on his clothes, not meeting the gazes of the specialists who had worked on them, not wanting to stir anymore emotions.

Sympathetic, the manager clears his throat to get their attention. "You two overpaid us, actually. Normally I'd give you the change, but Mr. Aggi said that he is waiting for you at 'Fashion Fatigue', where the money can be spent. I mean, I think that's just his way of leading you there, in case you two change your mind about not shopping anymore. He might actually be arranging something for you two, so who knows."

After glancing at one another, Kat nods in understanding. "Thank you. We'll be there."

Before they separate, Dante compliments her new hair and nails. "French tips!" She says happily before she disappears into her massage room. Because of her magical splint on her left arm still bracing from her shoulder and down to her wrist, she is careful in taking her clothes off as well as not strain the left side of her too much. Having taken note of her disability, the employees assisted her out of her clothes and assured her they will leave her left extremities. She mutters her thanks as they continued the service.

Going back to the main hairstyling room, Dante could see that there are indeed two more clients—one, a senior lady, having her mani-pedi; the other, a square-shouldered middle-aged man, getting a beard trim and shoulder-massage—stoically grieving how they loathe being in the same room as he is. A specialist leads him to the shampoo station; even the ten-minute treatment being so good can't distract him for long, after seeing the other man's contemptuous look at him.

"Sir, right here," the hairstylist says, gesturing towards a chair at least two chairs away from the middle-aged man and exactly four away from the old lady. Placing a chair cloth before unravelling the hair towel from his head, Dante studies himself in the reflection…

…and smiled. He looks good!

With his raven hair wet and slightly sticking against his face, he has to admit how the facial treatment did so well in exfoliating off some of the dead skin cells that had been…well, probably, protecting him against demons as some sort of old 'skin armour', clinging onto his new skin cells just to bury them underneath his roguishly-crusty self. But that's just his un-scientific opinion.

Okay, Kat was right. I needed that facial. And now, I just got a new hair treatment and the motel boss-twins were right.

He had only smelled coconut in luxurious bars and in cocktail drinks, but always with the aroma of alcohol and the lingering perfumes of other scantily-clad people milling about him, until one would finally pick him out of the crowd in a neon-lit night club.

Now, coconut is just…fresh and simple! New…and he felt new!

The hairstylist asks if he's got an idea for a hairstyle or cut and admits his self-barbering 'skills'. "I kinda did like some sort of crew cut with a mohawk before, but uh…heh! Yeah, it was good enough not to whip against my face. So, maybe something simple?"

"Okay," the hairstylist takes a hairstyle book and flips it open to a certain page. "Here. How about a soft textured fringe, asymmetrical since I can see that the length of your original fringe is going sideways, then smoothly, smoothly taper the whole back and sides, then gradually make it a thick crown on top, right here. So it's going to be a French crop with a twist, and I'm sure you're gonna like this than what you usually do to yourself—"

"Oh man, you're roasting my skills like that?"

"More like lack of hairstyling skills, sir." At that, Dante hisses in embarrassment. The stylist continues, "Anyway, the side part of your hair is on the right side of your head. So the fringe is going to be short here, then it's going to be longer going to the left, but they're still gonna be cut, since this is covering your eye now…when was your last cut, sir?"

Thinking back, Dante answers sheepishly, "I think…well, I met Kat six days ago…uh, ten days ago? Exactly?"

With a highly sceptical look, the hairstylist curls his fingers across his long black hair. "Hm! Well, I…you have a very aggressive hair growth!"

Dante scoffs. "Yeah, 'had to self-style it once a week but I didn't have the time."

"Okay! Moving on," the hairstylist snaps and goes back to observing his hair. "Okay, soft textured asymmetrical fringe, with tapered cut and thick French crop. Punk Crop, I would rename it."

Dante winces at the name. "Maybe not…"

"What? It's appropriate!" The hairstylist defends as he begins his plan. As he prepares his tool, a nail specialist decided to go ahead with Dante's mani-pedi session while he's on the barber's chair.

Watching every detail of the hair cutting process, Dante is both mesmerized and learning every aspect of it. He thinks of the next time he might need to style his own hair again, cut it where it should be, cut it shorter when he feels the stylist didn't even cut an inch of it, everything he can remember.

He had never really thought of his own body image as anything important, to be honest, other than being identified as Dante the Wanted Man of Limbo City; or as 'sex-bait', wherein even without money, he manages to find himself 'lucky' with a bunch of girls for a night or two, which is trouble for him and the women who comes back empty-handed to their pimps, yet some still do it anyway. They become…obsessed for some reason. He had seen it, when he had passed adolescence; overtly-feminine named women in themed costumes and barely-there clothes, from below legal age to veterans, they would insist in knowing his name or his address, come back with a pack of booze, condoms and their admittance that they look for him after their soulless, pleasure-less jobs, wanting to come, wanting to escape…

So he turned into their call boy, their secret slut, whether or not he had money; the thing is, they tip him for his 'services'. He couldn't find himself in getting rid of them; he loved their warmth, their attention…he never had any that wouldn't result to violence. There had been one exceptional person…Maggie…But she had disappeared a long time ago. The Archives in his smartphone don't tell a lot about the Vie De Marli's members' most personal profiles; he can't even find the right way or time to ask about her. So with her gone, he kept his distance, made up names as much as he could. It was to protect himself, used isolation to the point the meaning of loneliness is a joke. If they find out where their working girls are, they'll be in trouble and he'll be in trouble. But he was stupid; or rather specifically, he craved warmth. Even for just a few hours, while hot-drunk in alcohol. And from there, his life turned upside-down when Kat came knocking at his stolen RV's door.

His looks are nothing but some shell that attracts people and trouble. Only time might tell when it could change…or maybe, he's already looking at himself already quite changed. He is still eagerly scrutinizing the way the hairstylist used his tools across the planes of his head, ensuring Dante's new 'Punk Crop' appears how he had envisioned it.

"Here's your new and improved, professionally-done Punk Crop!" The hairstylist claims with a flourish, after taking off the barber's cloth off his shoulders and brushing off stray hair strands on his clothes. He notes Dante's silence and teases him. "Yeah, you love it."

He already does look a thousand times more changed than he thought might result under a few minutes. He had underestimated this hairstylist's power…

"…Hey, ma'am. Check out your friend's Punk Crop." He excitedly calls out to Kat, who had finished her time in the other room.

"The what?"

This is horrible, more than he can imagine a future where he failed to save everyone from Vergil! "Oh fuck…"

Coming out refreshed from the massage, Kat's skin glows so much better, sallowness gone from her fair-olive complexion; glancing around the room, she locks eyes on his figure stuck on a barber's chair getting his mani-pedi with his new hair—!

"Oh! My! GOD!" Kat exclaimed happily, putting her hands on her face in shock.

It's funny how it didn't matter how the two very opinionated clients had melted into nothingness to Dante and Kat's minds. The senior woman and the middle-aged posh man had paid their services and are impatiently waiting to get out of the salon, while being witness to the two people profiled to have been responsible for the system crash squeal and banter at each other about their hair. The two finally exit before they lose their temper, the shutters going down to lock the entrance.

"Dante, you look way better—!" Kat begins to gush as she steps closer, inspecting his hair closely.

Becoming pink, Dante protests, "I don't wanna talk about it—drop it okay! It's just new! It's no big deal!"

"It's so good! What are you moping about?" She asks, looking annoyed.

"I look like a male bitch who's so stuck-up about his…I dunno, his Chanel or Supreme stuff! Like, I look like an online-rich douchebag who takes advantage of his audience by selling used promo codes!"

The hairstylist clicks his tongue. "You look like those hunky fashion supermodels!" Then he claps his hands, an idea coming to him. "Or like AJ Abualrub! But you're a bit more muscular!"

Crossing her arms, Kat says, "I would've thought that you would like being showered with compliments."

"I—I personally don't know what to make of how...how unique it is, I guess!" He explains as best as he can, his neck becoming pink.

The hairstylist clicks his tongue, tired of Dante's melodrama and doubt. Leaning by putting his hands on his knees and staring him down, he scolds him. "Look at it this way: you may look like those guys you've described, which I'm not gonna lie, exist, but you don't behave like them. You are you. Who you are, what you're gonna do and how that's gonna impact other people is important. I mean, just outside, you've been with a bunch of people who don't really have good opinions of you two...especially you—"

"I see that."

"But it's because they don't know the full story. We're all scared." The way he said them became more heartfelt. "We only what's on the surface. But you two would undoubtedly reveal something else that would prove everyone wrong. And you'll look fantastic doing it. People would definitely change their opinions about you. And you would, undoubtedly, change the way you see yourself when your hair is in action!"

Kat beams at the hairstylist and at Dante, saying, "Couldn't have said it better myself." Then squatting down to Dante's level, Kat smiles up to him. He does appear to relax after that pep talk. "You do look great with this fringe-action going on."

He gives her a lopsided grin. "It's called an asymmetrical fringe."

The nail specialist surprised them when she said, "Looks like a Romance era kind of hair. 'Look good."

And with their entire sessions wrapping up, the manager presents his staff and the two hunters with coffee...laced with whiskey, which Kat was shocked to taste and Dante gulping it down without realizing their even was.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I'm not much of a drinker." Kat confesses awkwardly, to which the manager offers to make a normal one, but she insists on finishing it.

Smacking his lips, Dante asks to have another, to which Kat warns him. He defends himself, "I'm not gonna get that drunk immediately! It's got good mocha latte in it!"

"We're out of here after that second glass." She admonishes, then turns to the manager, "Don't put too much whiskey!"

With her still unfinished glass of whiskey-mocha latte, Kat, Dante and the whole salon staff make a toast.

"To all of us. We're here together and we'll be here together. We got each other's backs."

With a clink of their glasses and a cheer for their companionship, they finish drinking knowing that they've made a lasting impression on one another. The two hunters hold up more conversation with the staff, exchanging jokes and banter, even as far as teasing Dante if he'd want to enter the modelling business. He was more than baffled and miffed about it, groaning even as several of the staff compared him against their favorite models. Kat was taking note of each of the models' names, as her 'backup information', whatever she could mean and use them for.

"I could just telepathically extract that information, Kat." Dante forewarns, mocking his 'telepathic skill' by putting his fingers in his temples to gesture his 'powers'.

She smirks at him. "You can try, but I know you're just an amateur."

He shrugs his shoulders, not wanting to give in. "I have my ways."

The bantering among the group continued until a knock on the salon's locked door halts everything. Outside, a teenage girl raps her fist against the metal framing of the door, peering inside. She's wearing a simple shop uniform, a small emblazoning of her shop's name on her shirt's right side and her name tag on the left.

"Oh, right!" The manager exclaimed and motions for his staff to open the door. "Mr. Aggi is waiting in 'Fashion Fatigue'. I'm sorry I almost forgot!"

The two hunters finally drained their drinks down and exited the shutters and the open door of the salon. They realized, stepping out onto the deck area of the plaza that the sunset is at its final stage! Misty darkness envelops the entire area, with the artificial lights from every source merely illuminating the thin wisps that surround the service station and tourist plaza.

"Bye!" Kat waves, with Dante saluting them casually, as the whole staff bids them farewell before they fully shuttered their doors again. And before them is a very antsy teenage girl, waiting for them to follow her.

"C'mon." She tells them as she trots ahead, towards 'Fashion Fatigue'. Glancing at each other as they followed her, they wordlessly make it in front of another shuttered 'open' store, although the front door is tightly locked, with an older staff member leaning against it, waiting for them. When he sees their figures, he quickly goes to unlock the door and pulls it open. He mutters, "Come on in, come on in," then pushes it closed after they're all through and locking it thoroughly.

Like the salon was, the room is awkwardly mute, with only the sound of the staff's movement and hushed words fleeting across hanged clothings and fashionable mannequins. Mr. Aggi breaks the icy silence, his warm smile welcoming them.

"AH! Mr. Dante, Miss Kat! Look at you two!" He claps his hands enthusiastically and goes to clap them on their shoulders. "They did more than wonderfully! You look ready to walk the runway!"

Dante humours him with a grin. "Yep, heard of that joke from the salon, too."

Mr. Aggi guffawed. "Haha, I bet, I bet! Now, apologies to your money, but I know of the current mood of the whole situation, but nevertheless, that should not dampen your spirits or goals in getting the items you need! I went ahead and asked for the whole store to present their best winter and outdoor wear! Difficult, since it's in the middle of summer season, but they have in their reserved stock from last season that they have not put on resale to their smaller kiosks. So go ahead!"

"Thank you, Mr. Aggi." Kat says appreciatively, with Dante muttering, "Ditto," as he glances around the shop. Although it seems the two of them are the only customers, that seems to be enough reason for the staff to give them piercing gazes. Most of them pretend to patiently check at their presented items, while their gazes would flit towards them.

"I have bought my own set! Very durable inner layers right here! And well-made by a local factory as well!" Mr. Aggi, as oblivious or highly tolerant of the social atmosphere, enthuses, leading Kat to his set of purchased thermal wear.

"I guess we should start with inner layers," Kat says, aware of her inept knowledge of specific and likely luxe items. A staff member approaches her for her to be inquired on patiently. "Uh, ma'am, I guess we'll start with the thermal wear you have."

"Right here," she says, leading her to the Ladies' section of the shop. But Kat turns to look at Dante, who is being entertained and informed by Mr. Aggi. His face shadowed in confusion about the terminology of clothes, he merely gawks at Mr. Aggi and claims, "I don't need that," to which the concierge member gawks back at him, dumbfounded at his claim.

Kat goes to the staff leading her to the right section and mentions, "My friend, he needs a lot of help with clothes."

With that, she motions for another staff member to steer Dante to the right section, with Mr. Aggi enthusiastically pointing out recommendations behind him. The teen staff member from earlier had followed Kat behind; and from the body language of the older staff and the teenager, she guesses they're related; especially with the stern gaze from the older staff, telling her teenager that she should call for her assistance if she isn't sure. An impatient expression clouds the teenage girl as the older woman goes behind the shop to procure more items.

Presented with options, Kat discusses with the teen staff the possibilities of their adventures: the rain or snow coming, or the sudden drop of temperatures; the sweat levels of running or even sudden warmth coming, as well as the terrain she and Dante will tackle. The teenager chirps up a wealth of information regarding the climate and topography of Wolfhaven. As she does so, Kat couldn't help but guess that she must only be two years younger than her, and she is very impressed. It reminded her of herself a little, but she shoved those memories back as she concentrated on her words about Rochenmore.

"Wolfhaven is a mostly rural, mountainous county, with Edenville at the northwest, surrounded by most of its mountain ranges and thickest forest. It's 29 km in distance from the base of the highest mountain point by foot from the town of Edenville. It's highly known to have the wettest and coldest seasons. The town of Rochenmore, on the other hand, has Wolfhaven's largest lake, the Roch, which has an ancient castle, renovated and accessible as a tourist destination, called Mallet Castle. It won't open because of heavy rainfalls, which our county is also known for during early spring and even late summer. And here in Angelavale, situated in the county's lowlands, have the mildest temperatures, but windiest times even in summer. The county's overall climate is best described as a temperate, oceanic climate, with moderate to extreme temperature changes. This is due to the fact that the county is between a river in the west and the ocean in the east."

"Um, okay," both impressed and jammed with too much information, Kat could simply nod and grin sheepishly. "Using Wolfhaven's past winters, that should gauge us what we ought to wear and bring."

"Okay, well, thermal layers are a must, but since you guys are doing activities, they'll have to wick sweat and be water resistant," the teen tells her and begins rummaging in another shelf for the right items. She pulls out several neatly folded thermal tops and leggings, scanning the tag for its specifics. "So what's your size? Also, with your left arm braced, I should carry the items."

Appreciative of her concern, Kat assures her that her left arm is healing, but she will count on her if necessary, especially in dressing up. The girl continues to inform her, "If the weather becomes, y'know, difficult, I'd suggest packing extra. Heavy snow here in Wolfhaven is no laughing matter."

"Noted. And I'm a small, usually." Kat replies after the teen assesses her up and down and then pulls several items. Guessing that they are all 'small' in size, the teen staff takes eight tops and bottoms, then asks Kat if they are considering getting underwear, socks and other accessories, as part of their discount when their purchases reach more than one grand. Kat agrees that they might need the underwear anyway. "Thank you, um…"

"Sian," the teen staff says, extending her hand for Kat to shake. "You're welcome."

As she shook her hand, Sian's once indifferent expression breaks into a grin. After collecting the thermal wear, as well as several women's underwear, Sian puts them in a basket and leads Kat to the dressing room. Before she enters into one, the older woman calls her name.

"Ma! Here!"

"Right!" Sian's mother replies back, her gaze, though rimmed with dark circles, is hawk-like.

"We're just going to the dressing room," Sian answers back, a bit bitingly. Moving forward, the two of them quietly get the items ready for Kat to try on. With a smile to Kat, Sian tells her, "You know, people usually cut me mid-sentence. I'm very into geography and weather patterns. Thanks for putting up with the info-dump."

She chuckles amiably. "I can empathize, actually." As Sian pulls the curtain close, Kat begins on trying out the different pairs of thermal wear.

Meanwhile, Dante is being overloaded with too much thermal wear, as well as clothes he knows he surely has no need of, or thinks he has no need of, all thanks to Mr. Aggi's insistence. Following behind the motel concierge guy, Dante is loaded with two baskets full of clothes and accessories, with two other staff members pushing a small cart similarly overflowing, with a few men's footwear in them as well! It would appear that Mr. Aggi is ready to empty half of the shop, until Dante piped up about having to try on the items first before paying.

"Ah, yes, absolutely!" Mr. Aggi exclaims, almost at the cashier desk, but whirls around to lead Dante and the entourage to the dressing room. "Now don't forget the socks! And their popular travel boots! Vegan-made and recycled! Oh, and don't forget to try the local wool scarves! And are you sure about the tunic—!"

His patience was wearing so thin, Dante loudly assured him that he has no choice. Quickly pulling the curtains closed and firmly telling Mr. Aggi he needs privacy, did he finally back off. "PLEASE, please! Leave me alone so I can wear and see it for myself!"

As silence fills the room, Dante breathes out relief as he takes a moment to study...what the hell he just picked out of the hands of the staff that were basically just automatically taking Mr. Aggi's words for it.

Undressing, he picks up a full-body thermal outfit and looks at it through the mirror—

"Wow, I do look good."

That Light Polish pack from the salon helped in giving his skin that clean glow he usually just sees on rich people, or people who finish a long, vigorous beauty session from the upscale districts of Limbo. Admiring himself for a bit longer, he does admit...his new hair does give him a fresh perspective of his own image. He scoffs, the reflection imitating him, looking back at him with a sardonic grin. "You look good, but you're gonna ruin it soon. It's alright while it lasted, though…"

Busy in trying on the first item, Mr. Aggi's voice floats from outside the curtains. "Mr. Dante, m'boy, don't forget the underpants and the boxers. The juniors need to be snug inside, but surely not too fit! Do let us know!"

That's it, he is gonna throttle everything in his path! "Shu-thu-fu-sshhh-ckk-fffuuhh-nnnrrgh!"

"What was that, Mr. Dante? Did you need any—?"

"No! No! Please! Don't! Don't come in! I'm fine! I'm trying them all on right now!"

Sian's snickering got Kat's attention. She knows that Dante is having a wonderful time with Mr. Aggi but she couldn't help but become curious. Poking her head out of the curtains, she whispers to Sian, "So how's my friend doing?"

Leaning at the corner front of the dressing room section, Sian turns to Kat with a gleeful look on her face, still suppressing laughter even after she got close to her. "He's getting the best shopping experience, I can tell! What about you? And did you like the blouses I picked? Not a lot of girls here like the frilly-lacey ones."

Kat nods. She and her mother—the older woman earlier—had picked out a selection of fashionable clothes they had in season in spring and this summer; as Kat had realized that, although she is content with the bargain clothes she has, they are, aesthetically and literally not good anymore. Updating and expressing her inner desire for style can't be so bad; this is just one chance, besides the fact she already chose practical outfits.

"I like it! Thank you. I've never worn anything like it, actually."

Grinning, Kat details the ones she's purchasing, as well as the new clothes she's going to wear. She is, admittedly, a bit sentimental about the blue and orange hoodie, white tank top and denim shorts, as well as her brown boots, and the addition of a black scarf and black sports leggings to help in keeping her warm, but she knew it's time to gear up better and for the better. And, looking at herself in the mirror, she loves the ensemble she had finally put on.

Sian and her mother had put all the items in shopping bags, including Kat's old clothes and boots, replacing the new ones from their packaging. As Sian is busy folding and packaging, she would glance at the men's dressing room as riotous voices float out of it. She grins at Kat's guy friend's panicking, creating a hybrid noise of agitation and fear, complaining against the jovial but too nosy Mr. Aggi for dressing him up 'like a bait for demons to think there's a stand-up comedy'. She would see the young man running in and out like his life depended on it, with Mr. Aggi hot on his heels, arguing that Mr. Dante will need that item as he, Dante, shoves the item back on the shelf.

"Don't, don't even! I don't need a necktie!"

"You will need it to look fresh and well polished with the winter tuxedo!"

"I am not going to a party! The demons don't care shit!"

"You don't understand, you will need it for special occasions! Who said you'd wear it while taking down demons? M'boy! Where is your head?"

They argued while the staff—Sian's older cousin, as well as their friends, hired part-time to get extra income—tried to smooth out the affair as the neutral, rational party, informing Dante what's best for him and tempering down Mr. Aggi's enthusiasm. She was glad, secretly, that their shop, awfully quiet for the last two days, even with the occasional customer, is getting that bounce of life because of these three people.

And of course, she would never admit it, but Sian quite liked Dante running, mostly half-naked, around the shop. There are cute boys and girls in her school, and lots more from the high school level, but, objectively, Dante's chiselled features reminds her very well that she and her schoolmates look like older, awkward children with random growth spurts, or still lacking some. With that, she gives props to his looks and enjoys it, along with a side of shenanigans.

"Sian, are you done?" Her mother's voice gets her back to packing Kat's items. "Where is the list of items Miss Kat wore? We'll type them in for the transaction."

Quickly procuring the slip for her mother, Sian manages to put all the items in their shop's signature cloth bag and, not wanting to be around her mother, tells her she's going to check up on Kat. Her mother muttered an 'alright' and Sian exited the half-door of the cashier desk, passing by one of the staff who is swiftly going to a section full of hiking trousers and immediately going back to the men's dressing room, carrying small and medium sizes. Passing back a glance to her mother, Sian can see…

She turns her gaze away from her mother and briskly walks back to the dressing room, not wanting her mother's remoteness to affect her again. The last two days have been enough already and this moment of life—short this may be—is something Sian is taking advantage of.

Asking if Kat is ready, Sian hears a 'wait a moment' from behind the curtain.

"I can help you. Your left arm might strain." Sian offers, with Kat affirming she does need help, before parting the curtains and going inside to assist.

Seeing Kat in the chosen outfit, Sian sees it both as quite pretty but also a bit out of place from the practical wardrobe Kat had picked. But from the way Kat's face lights up whenever she looks herself in the mirror, Sian can't help but feel just as happy.

"I just wanna...throw this on," Kat says, a bit pink from confessing. "I mean, just looking at the way this looks. It really looks the price tag and the way it's crafted."

"Most of our items are hand-made by local sewing professionals and derived from within the country's cotton and wool factory," Sian recites as she fixes the way it's worn behind her customer. Standing up from behind Kat, the two young women look at the blouse up and down, admiring its design from the mirror's reflection. She has a good guess that Kat is more than enjoying the clothing piece and felt that she deserved something good.

"Oh man, I know most girls don't wear this, but…" Kat starts to explain, a wide smile across her face. "I'm just really into this blouse! It's so romantic."

"Your boyfriend's gonna like it." Sian compliments, but becomes shocked when Kat howls in laughter. "Wait, what?"

"No, no! I guess...do we look the type? I'm sorry! But no! Me and Dante, we're friends!"

"Oh shoot! My bad!" Sian chuckles back. "But why not though? He's cute...but I guess that's the only best thing?"

"Hahaha!" Kat could only laugh back. "Yeah, sorry, you're right! Dante's cute, but nope."

And from there, Kat explains her story (excluding pertinent details of their demon-hunting activity) as she clarifies to Sian her sibling-esque relationship with Dante and explaining her own heartbreak experience. She does her best not to paint any emotional baggage regarding her feelings about Vergil, but she tells Sian that her lack of foresight and the factors of being an abused child led to poor romantic decisions.

"Sorry for the assumption," Sian says, but Kat is assuring that she's fine.

"Besides, Dante has no sense of fashion, yet. He'll just go ahead and say, 'wear whatever you want, I can't even wear those', so I'm good with what I think is cool-looking for me."

"Okay, with that thought, you've got to come back here," Sian begins, wanting to divulge an inventory secret regarding their next clothing line-up, but realizes something. "Oh! I...I mean, when you two come back…"

Kat can see it in the girl's eyes as she blinks tears away, trying to swallow down a painful reality. "What's wrong? Sian?" Softly trying to pry an answer, Kat places her hands on the girl's shoulders. The context slowly forms inside Kat's head, but something else seems to bother her.

"W-when you two come back…" Sian tells her, her voice low and choking down the action to cry. "You can...you can be sure...we're waiting…"

"Yeah, it's okay," Kat tells her, her tone equally low and soothing for the girl's sake. "We will come back. I'll drag Dante on another shopping spree here. He needs to know how to shop for himself."

Sian nods vigorously, pursing her lips together. "Okay…"

"Okay."

Still nodding her head, Sian asks Kat if she's ready to wear the rest and that she'll assist her all the way. Realizing Sian is maintaining her secret, Kat replies, "Sure. Thank you."

Without pressing any more, Kat goes on to finish wearing her ensemble, with Sian instructing and detailing her about the way the items work against winter or from which collection overall. There was a distant look on Sian's face as Kat finishes with her chosen scarf.

"Okay, just the boots left…"

Quicker than her, Sian took the boots from the corner of the dressing cubicle and even began to open the foothole for Kat to slip her foot through! A bit unsettled, Kat does so, watching the girl perfectly fit the boot collars around her ankle and even ties the laces for her!

"Sian," Kat calls for her, hoping her voice is gentle enough. "You can tell me."

Not looking up, Sian shakes her head. "Let's get the other boot on."

Acquiescing, Kat slips her other foot inside the thick hiking boot, patiently observing the way the girl professionally fixes the eyelets of the boot before tying the knot.

"Sian! Are you there?! Sian?! Sian?!"

"What, ma?"

Her mother's voice sounds a bit distressed, followed by her quick footsteps, running to their cubicle. Kat questions internally, although she feels it ridiculous, if her mother even knew her daughter is just here in the dressing room.

"I-I don't know where you are! Sian!"

"For chrissake!" Finally getting up from her kneeling position, Sian runs out of the cubicle and appears right in front of her haggard-looking mother, followed by several people coming to the women's dressing room. "Ma! Will you not? Please! I'm not dad!"

"Okay, okay, shhh, okay, I'm sorry…" Her mother apologised, still appearing unconvinced and aggrieved. Yet the two individuals embraced one another, the tension surrounding them as they tried to soothe the other.

Mr. Aggi clears his throat and gestures Dante to finalize the items he's picked, with several of the staff backing away from the scene. Sian's older cousin walks close to them before Kat pulls her head back inside the curtains, a few things forming inside her head, each one upsetting her.

Decked out in the picked ensemble, Dante looks at himself in the mirror, still not quite sure what to make of it all. But overall, he can't deny the good-looking guy reflecting back. Mr. Aggi, behind him, is nodding his head appreciatively. "Well!"

His lips quirking amusedly, Dante retorts, "Well, well!"

He smoothes his hands down the fabric of the new coat he's wearing, as well as the cloud-like softness of the cream-colored scarf he's wrapping around his neck. Beneath the coat is the most lightweight attire he thought would feel cozy and breathable: a sleeveless red tunic, its length at mid-thigh, supposedly made from a mixture of dried bark fibres and recycled cotton, most of which are red variations to add color vibrancy; sewn onto the expanse of the tunic is a greyish wolf cub with a white full moon behind it. Below the wolf cub are the sewn letters 'Wolfhaven'. His midnight-colored hiking trousers is a loose fit and its ankle-length bottom tucked inside his new pair of terrain-resistant boots.

"You will be the most comfortable demon hunter out there!" Mr. Aggi says, his eyes even misty with joy.

"Hm, yeah," Dante replies as he lifts the back of his coat and inspects his derriere in the mirror. "'Specially going commando in something that's finally spacy!"

Mr. Aggi nods in agreement, not fully digesting what he just said, but only after Dante collects all the items he wants did the poor concierge staff balk at his words. "Wait! What?!"

Getting to the cashier desk and inquiring if all their items are there, the shop attendee—a young man—affirms it so and begins to scan the items. Glancing at the women's dressing room, he finally lays his eyes on Kat and her own new apparel. He would've liked to smile but Kat is comforting the shop's youngest staff member, clutching an older female staff, who must be her mother. The three women are conversing in hushed tones, the teenager soothing her mother's arm, who is in tears and soon puts her head on Kat's shoulder.

Dante looks away; he didn't want to assume cynically, but whatever it is they're speaking of, or perhaps what Kat is promising to do, he hopes it isn't something that would give false hope. His eyes travel across the myriad of items they've just bought from this shop and he glances at the ticking number on the cash register's screen, watching the number ascend to more than one grand. His thoughts strayed to the things they've been doing so far and he thought how self-indulgent they are, how they're wasting their time in garnishing themselves when they should've been in Rochenmore…

He should've convinced Kat instead of doing this! What good does this do, pampering themselves and shopping?

"My uncle, he's not here." The cashier attendee mutters to him while he scanned the items, while another employee begins packaging his articles of clothing. Dante lifts his gaze at the young man before him, who's likely the same age as him. The attendee gives him a quick look before flitting back to his job. "That's his wife. That's my cousin, Sian."

Glancing back at Kat and the family she's still speaking with, Dante gazes down at his tunic, wandering at the letters that form Wolfhaven. "Why? Where did he go?"

"Rochenmore." The teenager says without missing a beat. He doesn't add anymore to it as he places all the items in their signature cloth bag. Overall, their shopping resulted in four cloth bags of new clothes and reaching almost three grand. From that price, the shop rewards them with a gift collection of extra socks and undergarments.

"Wonderful." Dante replies cheerlessly as he hands the payment. He had heard Sian's footsteps approaching him, with her mother muttering a "please, Sian…" but her daughter is adamant in moving closer to him. Merely tilting his head to glance at the short girl next to him, her staredown up at him speaks volumes of her heightened emotions.

"I don't really care who and what you are," Sian responds, her voice low in this unspeakable anger, but familiar to Dante. "But if it's true with what they say...what Kat said about you...Can you bring back my dad and baby brother?"

He knew he had slipped his cool mask off. Dante looks at Kat from behind Sian, who had walked toward with her mother in tow, gently placing a hand on Sian's shoulder. He asks, "Your dad went to Rochenmore. When?"

"Yesterday." Sian replied matter-of-factly, but her composed visage was slowly breaking down. "He was going to pick up my brother from school after it was in lockdown during Edenville's incident. But they...didn't make it."

And he knew immediately what possibly happened. He lets his eyes close, listening to Sian to ground him from letting his emotions take him away. "They haven't made declarations of death due to absentia, unlike in Edenville. The police confirm that several people are deemed 'missing' from Rochenmore...and we all know most of them are from the town's local school."

She pauses, swallowing and wiping away a tear, but remains steadfast in looking Dante in the eyes. "No one wants to say it or admit it, but we do need your help."

Looking at the kid's dark hazel eyes, then at her mother's tearful face and at Kat's compassionate look, gazing deeply at him to speak what they both already agreed on; Dante finally turns to fully face Sian with an affectionate pat on her head. She looks stunned when she watches him grin softly at her.

"You stay strong, kid," he tells her. "Your dad and little bro would want to recover when they're here tomorrow—oof!"

He wasn't expecting a tight hug from the teenager, but he grinned down just the same. He can feel her sniffling and her shoulders shaking as he tries to soothe her from crying. She murmurs a "thank you" and tightens her arms around him.

"Oh, Sian," her older cousin was the one to break her from Dante, despite the cashier desk barring him; although he, too, is in tears and pulls out his own handkerchief to wipe them away. She does separate quickly and hides her face in embarrassment, before running towards her mother and hugs her. Still tearful, her mother is appreciative. "We're aware of public consensus regarding you two, but there are those who don't share the same sentiments. We're very grateful."

"We are, too," Kat replies, bowing her head. "We...we've had a long day. And looking back, a really long week. This was all so sudden, but everything that's happened…"

"We'll fix it." Dante interrupts, his tone stern. Even with their eyes on him, Kat's troubled look speaks a huge amount of how she understands those three words. Looking down at the floor, he adds, "I was made to do this, anyway. We'll be ready soon."

"Yes. We've been purchasing items for us to get ready. And with that, we're very grateful for you letting us in," Kat adds, trying to mix in hopefulness to the coldness in Dante's verbose. She can tell just how dismal the whole atmosphere is, that Mr. Aggi remains silent and even grieving, with his hand on his mouth and poised at the corner near the men's dressing room. Staring up at Dante, she gives him a sympathetic look, to which he responds with a nod

Still embracing her mother, Sian reaches out to clutch Kat's arm and tries to pull her closer. "You'll be okay, right? What do we do to help?"

Smiling, Kat clasps her hand to hers. "All you have to do is wait. We'll even have officers ready to take our response when we've confirmed people are safe in Rochenmore. Okay?"

Nodding, Sian lets her go, but still gazing at her and tightly still with her mother. With that, Dante clears his throat and takes all their shopping bags with him. "We should go. We want to get your plans rolling, right?"

"Right." She answers and bids farewell to Sian and thanks the whole shop one final time. Mr. Aggi takes this cue to shake hands with the employees, ensuring his energy level is tempered respectfully, and leaves first, his purchases in hand.

Following suit, Dante and Kat glance back at Sian and her mother before exiting. He starts, "So, we still good with that Astral Projection plan—?"

But mid-sentence, his stomach growls! It appears that homemade bourbon was not enough to keep his stomach quiet. The employee holding the door open chuckles at him. "Well, looks like it's supper time anyway."

And it was purely instinct as a chorus of laughter surrounded Dante; Kat does her best to suppress her chuckling, but realized her own hunger responding as well. He snickers at her as the shop employee announces supper time before closing.

"Ha! Well, it appears plans need to be stalled for now!" Mr. Aggi exclaims, beaming, as he pulls out a smartphone. "Come! I'll have your shopping bags delivered to your room and direct you to the local pub!"

"Thank you," Kat said, quite embarrassed. Before leaving the entire second floor of the tourist plaza, the two hunters were surprised to find the salon employees, behind their lockdown salon, are waving at them goodbye, their shutters pushed all the way up. Sian had come running to the door and called Kat's name before hugging her tightly. "You two come back."

Embracing her back, she answers she will. But Sian shook her head. "No. I mean...when everything is finally done. When it's over...you have to come back."

And it dawns on her…

The abnormally cold winter air whips against their hair as Sian's mother calls for her to get inside. Sian murmurs, "We'll celebrate, okay?"

Will we?

"Of course."

Running back inside, her mother tells her, "Be careful, alright?" Her fretful look at Kat feels like a punch in her heart. She can only nod back at the older woman before they disappeared inside their shop.

It's over. It was peaceful while this lasted…

"Kat?" Dante's uneasy voice further heightens this grim sense of foreboding. Her new clothes, warm and snug, could not melt the fearful coldness within. She understood the weight of this burden, this mission, this journey. But she can't help but feel sadness and dread mixing so awfully...but she wonders if her hunger is getting in the way. She had been so eager to get through everything done; it was her idea to splurge because she felt they deserved it…

But they have people here, anxious, impatient, worrying, angry, grieving…

She felt something writhing inside her chest, on the left side. She lifts her left hand to soothe it away, but all she's doing is digging at her skin, massaging the area.

"Kat…" He murmurs sweetly. It sounded almost musically, contrasting against the cold dissonant waves of the wintery gusts.

Looking at her still figure, gazing back at him blankly, Dante can understand the thought process behind why she had picked her outfits. The vibrant, pastel colours are just the best giveaway to her wanting something bright and feminine to look at, especially in the mirror.

Kat's prettiness was trapped in old, practical clothes. Her shorts were skimpy, sure, but it was a way of wanting to project girlishness, a hopeful attempt to both woo his twin before and for herself to express something silly and casual, something that could distance herself from her past and from their situation before. She was not meant to fight physically, not with those old clothes…

He chuckled and that got Kat's attention. And in spite of the grim thoughts that swirl inside her mind, her lips smile at him. "What?"

"Real upgrade from those PJ's you wore when you slingshotted that Seraph hours ago." He tells her with a smug look on his face and her smile beams even more.

Looking down, she lifts the side of her dress and twirls it, as she glances up at him, equally satisfied, "Ready to look cute while we bring our own apocalypse at them."

Nodding, he watches how pleased she looks as she peers at herself: underneath a long, light-blue scarf and its matching woolen roll-neck sweater is a navy, frilly blouse, which itself is worn on top of a thermal shirt; worn over the blouse is a long denim pinafore dress, with knitted Wolfhaven wolf cubs and forestry on two large pockets, covering her black leggings underneath fluffy-pink leg warmers. Her new thick boots thud heavily against the floor, which are the only hard-boiled apparel she's wearing, contrasting the overall girly ensemble. She looks like she's going on a winter vacation...highly not the case, but they have other winter gear that she'll undoubtedly wear when it's necessary.

"We will." Dante murmurs as an answer. Gazing at him, there was a sliver of doubt casting over her again. She shakes her head; she knew perfectly how it doesn't do to dwell too long on bleak thoughts. She takes a deep breath and nods, smiling up at him.

The sound of several footsteps from behind them has them seeing the motel's several workers coming to take their shopping bags away, with Mr. Aggi commanding them that they should not be stopped by anyone along the way. "Report them if need be!"

He turns around from where he stood—from among the last steps of the staircase—and claps his hands at both of them, his energy levels soaring at maximum. "Come, come! I will lead you to the local pub and introduce you to their new manager! Lovely, lovely manager! She helped revitalize the business there, 'twas failing this decade, but just five days ago! She turned it around! Haha! Funny how the pub seems to become a safer haven than the triages the government put up! Hahaha! Only joking, now! But the new manager! She will see to it that you two get the best of their traditional, gastronomic feasts!"

Side-eyeing one another, as they followed Mr. Aggi down the stairs, the two hunters are now preparing themselves to see who the source of the Sentience is. Truly dark and misty, further amplified by the supernatural chill and wind, the hopeless and vexed faces of the townsfolk had become passing revenants to them as they made their way to the main foot path towards the pub.

A phone's ringtone musically announces itself inside Mr. Aggi's pocket, prompting him to pull it out immediately to answer the caller. "Hello...Oh! Mr. Ferino! Yes, yes…"

The two exchanged looks again, not liking the forced tone of enthusiasm Mr. Aggi uses to speak to the person from the other line. The fact that they're only a few feet away from the front door of the quaint pub makes the phone call feel like an obstruction. Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, Mr. Aggi faces his two clients and apologetically replies that he will not join them. "I'm sorry, duty calls. Mr. Ferino is a very busy business partner and he wants to ensure things are triple checked."

"What about supper? Can't it wait?" Kat tries to persuade their helpful guide, who shakes his head.

"Duty calls." Mr. Aggi sternly repeats as he stares at both of them. "And soon, you'll heed yours after you've dined. No human can function without a proper meal. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Walking away from them, they watch as his retreating figure returns to one of the paths back to the motel. They take their steps forward the pub, ignoring some of the too-curious crows coming down to hop right next to them; it seemed not all of the crows went with their frenzied friends somewhere east. A chill cascades down both of them, but only Kat shivers, huddling herself further against her woollen scarf, as they stepped closer and closer…

The pub is an Airey House type: big and blocky, made of thick concrete walls painted a dark red, a brown hip roof and rectangular casement and sliding windows on all its two floor levels. It was quaint and old-school looking, modernized by the modern neon signage attached to its old wooden sign post, hanging above the doorway, with its own three-step metal stairs humming with life and soft blue light, to remind patrons to watch their step. It has its own parking area and a gated backyard full of dining benches, full with patrons in full-drunken-swing, adorned with shrubs, three trees and flowering weeds already overgrown, spreading the walls near the backyard. Among the tree branches perched a few crows, unperturbed and highly observant of the humans below.

Kat read the neon sign: "The Sunken Opera House."

Dante winces at the name. "What is up with these morbid names? It ain't even sinking, unlike the other businesses at the plaza."

Her mouth agape at him, Kat shakes her head and scoffs. "Damn, Dante. Look, forget about the name. Probably just a conversation piece, you know. Let's just keep our cool. The source of the Sentience-conjurer is here."

Still a bit affronted by these business owners' naming conventions, he decides to keep his mouth shut and leads the way up the stairs.

When he opens the door to the pub, they are immediately met by the same surge of power from when they entered Wolfhaven, but this time it is ten times more potent, crawling like a hundred padded paws on their skin! The anxious feeling is further weighed down by the fact that they were going to be welcomed by a uniformed woman.

And Kat and Dante could not do a thing; literally they are frozen in place by the sheer shock of seeing a very voluptuous, graceful woman with a warm smile!

She had medium skin tone, tall and all-around a much toned, hourglass physique. A woman around 173 centimetres or 5 ft. and 8 or 9 inches, her head reaches Dante's nose, compared to Kat, whose head reaches his collarbones. She wears an orange uniform, resembling that of diner waitresses from the thirties, the same as the rest of the wait staff and even musical band at the pub's stage do; but hers has a sharper collar and trim, with an exaggeratedly frilly white apron, with its large ribbon tied behind her waist. Her vintage outfit is paired with her raven hair styled in a shoulder-length wave, slightly bouffant at the crown of her head; tied around her sleek, raven locks was a long orange ribbon, its cute knot at the left side of her head. Clipped above her ID tag and on the neck sling of the apron is a black bird accessory, shining against the lights as she moves. On her ID, Dante sees her name and official rank inside this pub.

And no one would've doubted her rank, just looking at this exquisite woman that commands attention when she walked or stood, following behind her gazes of approval and unmistakable admiration.

That powerful, tingling feeling inches deeper inside them and it is unbearably…

...comfortable, irrefutably inviting!

It's like the caress of a warm breeze, stimulating deep into the skin!

They've found the conjurer!

He doesn't know about how Kat feels, or if he could even reach her telepathically; but Dante can sympathize as she's a psychic. Everything he can sense he can tolerate at a hundred times more than a human; but the potency of these sensations are the same level as what Kat—a human—feels, as she lets it all cascade over her, and inside her! He hopes she can snap back to her wits to use countermeasures!

The uniformed woman approaches them, a dazzlingly warm smile on her lips and eyes, presenting them the menu with a flourish. Kat takes it with a mesmerized look on her face.

When their welcoming hostess speaks, it heightens the woman's seductive aura: a golden timbre of a voice, womanly and alluring; it is also heavily-accented. He feels how it fits her exotic and powerful presence, literally in all aspects.

"Welcome, strangers."

Dante fought not to swoon as his eyes raked every inch of her figure. A muscle underneath his left eye twitched as he fights being unaffected. He looks to Kat and realizes she is broken by the magnetic woman's looks and charm! She even blushes when the woman compliments her new haircut and even offers to lead Kat inside.

He needs to do something. "Just get us the two of the best in your house." He says in a clipped tone, snatching it from Kat's hands and handing back the menu. Unfazed, she takes it back and ushers them further into the pub, all the while snapping her fingers to get a wait staff's attention and tells them their orders.

She speaks to them again, her hips swaying, "This must be your first time here."

Gazing around the warmly lit pub, lively music being played by a band and patrons more than at home, Dante notices a few eyes on them, looking them up and down, before drifting back to play at their half-eaten food or barely finished drinks. He made eye contact with several of them, ensuring they get the hint they're not 'tourists' for harassment. They've had that already.

"Why yes, it is." He answers in a measured tone as he continues to survey the whole place. He taps Kat's hand gently and she almost looks up to him, but keeps her eyes trained ahead, gazing at the back of their welcoming hostess.

From the way she walks and held herself, there was an undeniably natural grace in her long, muscled, slender arms and well-toned legs as she welcomes the two new patrons of the night. She led them to the bar table, giving them a full view of the alcohol and the beer taps on display. Many of the staff are whisking in and putting away dishes and steins in the speed needed to feed the crowd, placing them accordingly on the bar, tables and booths, whilst engaged in conversation relevant to them; although none brought up the recent demon attack they had just gone through. And among these placidly warm staff and patrons was the warmest, loveliest of all of them, sashaying in two glasses of water for both Dante and Kat.

"I've put on two orders," she says with the same dazzling smile, placing the warm glasses of water. Neither of them immediately took it, but she continued to entertain them. "Both of you are getting the Buttered Roast Chicken, with vegetables as sides and a choice of beer."

Then she leaned close to them, as if sharing a secret, and effectively showing a bit of cleavage from her very ample breasts. "I suggest the stout beers, best pair for a roast."

Dante leans in as well, lowering his voice with a dry grin. "How kind of you. I hope the rest of the locals will treat us as nicely as you."

A gorgeous chuckle escaped her lips. "Oh, don't you worry, you fit stag. We're quite so nice here, you might never want to leave…"

He can feel Kat's nervousness even as he continues his stare down at the beautiful manager of this establishment, her pattering heart and repressed anxious breath a sound that furthers his vigilance. The enchanting manager gives him a wink before extending her hand for him to shake.

He had already glanced at her ID, and at this close, he can drink in the details of this seductive woman's face: a highly-sculpted, oval face with a sharp, triangular chin and cut jawline; her black brows are neatened to frame her heavily-lidded, deep-set brown eyes; her dazzling smile and teeth, which do have two slightly larger upper-front teeth, giving her a youthful charm, are framed by her long, thin lips, with a deepened philtrum and softly-protruding lower lip. She smells faintly of the musk of old wood in a cellar, with spices and a hint of raw, sharp flora, as if she had walked among the grassy field, when there's none until the next few miles of purely road before reaching the nearest woods.

"Nemain, manager." She says as Dante shakes her smooth, quite willowy hand.

"Pleasure." He replies in a crisp tone, still with the same dry grin.

Nemain the manager extends the same hand to Kat, who takes it as quickly as she could pull it back. Inside his mind, Dante is going to make a full review of the Sunken Opera House, with a three-star rating, warning any future patrons to look out for the alluring and mysterious, hands-on manager.