1 hour earlier

"Seth~ Carry me!"

Seth for the seventh time that day facepalmed. After they had entered the dungeon city, Abel made a swift dash towards the Western main street; in search of the famous café venues, the city had to offer. However, he only made it fifteen paces before he collapsed onto the ground, his body utterly shutting down. Hunger. One of the fundamental shackles of being made of flesh and blood. They hadn't eaten anything since being in the forest. Curses!

"Sethhh~" Abel moaned as he laid flat against the stone street. "Carrrrrry meeeeeeeee."

"..."

"Ughhh. Please carry me?"

"..."

"I can't move a muscle. I used all my energy earlier…"

"..."

"So heartless! Is this the thanks I get for getting us past the gate?"

Five minutes passed, and Abel was still on the ground, still starving, still dying. Every so often he would moan out his brother's name in a plea, much to Seth's discomfort. Finally relinquishing to his brother's wishes, Seth hoisted Abel's arm over his shoulder and began to carry him past the small crowd that had formed around the two. One of the cruel responsibilities of having to babysit Abel was to be embarrassed for him.

Making their way down the street, the two began to look for a place to have a meal. Admittedly, Seth was also starting to feel the fatigue from famine, and supporting his brother's weight certainly didn't help it. As they walked (or dragged in Abel's case), Abel began to mutter aloud the series of shops and stores they passed by.

"Clothing… furniture… cursed trinkets? How is there not a single café anywhere? I swear, the infrastructure of this place is already so dumb..."

Seth let out a single, quiet chuckle as they continued walking.

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"Ah, finally! A place for food!"

Seth stopped as his brother's wheezed words registered to him. A pub. He looked to the left side of the doorway to see a sign. "Hostess of Fertility" it read.

Fertility… Seth looked to Abel, then back at the sign, then back at Abel.

"Seth…" Abel indolently said, knowing full well what the look on his brother's face meant. "It's a pub. They're gonna put food in our stomachs, not babies."

Abel unslung himself from Seth's support and stood on his footing. He tucked his hands in his pocket and smirked. "But I agree, the name is a bit off-putting."

He gently placed his hand on the set of double doors and pushed it open. He entered and took a breath. It smelled of fresh pan-seared meat, the faint aroma of fermented barley, and the unmistakable scent of roses, amniotic fluid, blood, and ash.

A devilish smile sprouted on Abel's face as he entered the Hostess of Fertility. Fertility, what a silly name.

Inside, boisterous laughs of adventurers who were slowly losing their sobriety rang out. They jested and jeered at one another, trading inside jokes tainted with a chaotic sense of morbid humor. My, what a lovely maddened place. Lazily seating himself, he plopped his right cheek upon the counter. The cold mahogany felt soothing against his cheek as he quietly hummed to himself.

"An elf, two—no, three cat girls, and one...Mmm two humans," Abel mused. After a few quiet seconds to himself, he heard Seth find a seat beside him. Abel did not bother turning, nor raising his cheek up. He kept it there until the pub owner approached the pair.

"So, what can I get for you?" she asked. Her tonality made her question become more so of a demand. Tending to hungry customers who needed to satiate their stomachs meant money, after all.

Raising himself off the counter, Abel looked at the brawny woman with a tired, yet calculative eye. "Oh, and a dwarf."

Mustering a weary smile, he replied "A steak, medium rare, and spaghetti for my brother over here."

"Alright, coming right up!"

Mia made her way to the back to make their dishes. When she left, Seth gave a curious look to his brother who once again had his face comfortably planted on the counter. Feeling Seth's gaze, Abel shrugged. "You always ask Cain to make you spaghetti. Doesn't take a sage to safely assume that's your favorite dish."

The wait for their food was quiet (for Seth, that was a given). Abel briefly took a moment off the counter to take off his jacket before resuming his newly found favorite position. After waiting twenty-five minutes, Mia arrived back from the kitchen, a steak dish held high in her right hand, and a spaghetti dish in her left. She placed the dishes on the counter a few feet away from the brothers. She slid the dishes on the counter towards them. Abel raised his head to narrowly miss the edge of the plates smashing his nose. Clapping and rubbing his hands together, he looked at his dish with a newly restored vigor. Abel wiped the hints of drool off his lips as he precariously began cutting into the juicy, tender meat; while Seth took no time with such tableside manners, instead opting in raising his mask, and slurping up the noodles.

How it just seemingly melted in their mouths. It felt like putting pieces of heaven in their stomachs.

They happily ate their respective meals, filling the darkened void of their stomachs. After a substantial portion of their meals, Abel noticed a silver-haired waitress skip into the kitchen, much to the dismay of her fellow compatriots. He looked back at his plate, the steak in his stomach suddenly feeling like a slab of lead. But he gave no gesticulation nor notice to it; instead, he quietly whispered aloud, such that no one else but Seth could hear.

"Eyes forward and keep eating."

That was when the boy walked in.

The two felt his eyes on them as they tried to finish their meals. Seth ate at a slower pace, his body barely visibly stiffened by the boy's arrival. Why? Why now of all times? Even after Seth's conversation with Abel on the carriage, his heart was still ill-prepared. He tried to distract himself with the food, but it felt cold to his tongue's touch. Abel simply kept cutting his steak, his unbandaged eye clouded in thought.

Eat, for now, you'll cross that bridge soon enough, or perhaps, not long enough.

Suddenly, the dwarf began to yell at a few customers. Of what, frankly, Abel didn't care much for. It was only until she raised her fist that Abel's instincts screamed for him to react. But instead of moving himself away from the blow, he looked to Seth.

"No, don't—!"

Seth had caught the dwarf's fist.

"Shit…"

Damn mortal instinct and reflex! Sure, they're fun to toy with every now and again, but this sort of situation was far from within Abel's favor. Silence followed Seth's actions. Trying to play it off, Abel laughed. "Our apologies. My brother and I are kinda hungry, and don't exactly want our food flying about."

Standing up, he reached into his pocket for the pouch of valis. A memento from Jove he managed to swipe off him while he slept. (Of course, he didn't feel guilty stealing from a pedophile and necrophiliac.) He placed the coins on the counter. "This should sufficiently pay for the meal. Thank you, it was delicious," he said with a smile.

Not wanting to linger around any longer than needed, he gathered his coat and made his way to the exit. While walking, he let his eye wander. That was when he and the boy locked eyes. Those eyes, they used to look at Abel with such wonder. They used to be filled with so much hope. But the last time he saw those eyes, they were stained red with the tears they poured out.

"Forget," his soul called out.

Having said all that could have been said without words, he walked out of the pub.

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Abel continued to walk down the street, deeply sifting through his thoughts. The sound of his brother's heavier footsteps growing steadily closer didn't even register to him. It was only until Seth placed a firm hand on his shoulder that Abel stopped and looked back at him. For a moment, he wore a somber frown before it quickly changed to his usual cheery, mischievous smile.

"Well, that was certainly something."

"..."

"No need to apologize, though this does change things up a bit."

"..."

Rumors were sure to spread like wildfire. Too many witnesses and there was no proper way to keep it all hush-hush. As attention-seeking as his childish antics may have been, they were mainly to tease his brother to the fullest; they never revealed anything about his peculiar abilities or skills. Seth catching the blow of the former Freya familia captain was going to get some unfavorable heads turning in their direction.

Sighing deeply, Abel looked to his brother, his face rather unseemly serious.

"I think it's about time we parted ways for a bit."

"—!"

This is what scared Seth the most, why he was so committed to enduring his brother's capers. After all the time they've known one another, Seth never truly knew what Abel did when left alone; what strings he would twist and pull at his own leisure. And that utterly terrified him.

"Don't worry," Abel jested. "I'll be good."

Still wearing a smile on his face, he turned and began walking once again. "I'll be sure to eat my vegetables, brush my teeth, and go to bed on time!" he called out.

Seth stood still as he watched the blackened silhouette grow further away, and dissipate in the distance like a hollow mirage. There he goes, he's leaving once again. His heart irked and called for him to follow, but he did not dare to obey it. He knew better than to do such a thing.

He could see it now. That blackened silhouette smeared in splashes of cold crimson. He could hear men and women screaming till their vocal cords snapped, but they continued to scream, producing a sound that resembled geese honking. But as much as that terrified him, Seth's heart still begged him to follow. He felt his hand slowly reach out towards his brother, and grasp at the air where he once stood.

And so, fighting against his heart, wishing that fate may have been a kinder thing; so sure that when they reunited, the man he called his brother would be gone—he let him go.

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"Now then, off to Babel."

Abel began to make his way to the center of the city, the lid of the dungeon. The gods really outdid themselves when they rebuilt it. It was almost as if they restored it to connect Tenkai and Genkai together. So fitting that such a sprawling structure would reach for the heavens, while below, it housed the living hells of the dungeon.

After a short while, Abel reached Babel's square. There were no buildings, instead, little pockets of adventurers sprinkled about around the foot of Babel. Each one of them belonged to a different familia. Some groups were even composed of members of multiple familia. But all shared one common interest—the dungeon. Whether it be descending into that merciless unknown, or browsing the Hephaestus armor and weapon shops, the dungeon was at the forefront of their minds. But Abel had no such interest. No, he wanted to see someone.

There, returning from her usual excursion from the dungeon was a certain pseudo princess. Her long, luscious blonde hair fluttering about in the wind sent shivers of awe down the spines of nearby adventurers. By her side was a real princess, (or how she would prefer to be seen as), an elven mage. Her posture was high, yet not mighty. She was not tainted with Hippocratic arrogance.

They walked together, the sight reminding Abel of a picturesque role model of a mother and her child. But the elf was not her child, no. That much could be seen from everyone around. But only Abel knew of the true mother.

Standing still at the foot of Babel, he let the elf and the child walk by. Right as they were about to pass him, he spoke, his voice quiet but loud enough for only them to hear.

"Hello Aria junior," his tone was playful and facetious.

Immediately, the girl drew her blade, pointing the tip to his throat. The high elf poised her staff towards him. Abel chuckled nervously at their hostile prejudice towards him. My, how one name changes so much.

"Relax, I mean you no harm," he said as he attempted to brush aside the cold steel pressing against his trachea. The blade did not lower, however. Shrugging, Abel tucked his hands into his pocket.

"Who are you? How do you know that name?" the elf asked, her voice authoritative and stern, befitting of a leader, naturally becoming that who bore her family name.

Abel slyly smiled, "Well, if it's any consultation, I'd prefer not to speak about the wind spirit in such a public place. Oh, and the sword on my throat doesn't help either."

Begrudgingly, the girl lowered her blade from Abel's throat. But she did not lower her glare from him. Abel laughed at that. "Well," he began. "Seeing as I'm new to town I'll let you choose the venue we chat at." He courteously gestured to the many different paths and lanes leading to Babel.

"Oh wait. Can it be a café? I haven't seen a single one all day."