"How's it looking?" Dante asked.
He was in the middle of packing their things, carefully checking to make sure they weren't leaving anything behind. At the table sat Helios, hunched over his microscope, examining a fresh blood sample from one of the rats. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and finally shook his head.
"It was a failure," he said flatly as he packed the microscope away. "A is still dead and B shows no change whatsoever. There's no point in killing B too." He grabbed his case and began staring down the substances inside. Then, he held out his hand to Dante. "Give me your arm."
Dante hesitated. "What are you planning?"
But Helios didn't wait for an answer. With the precision of a surgeon, he grabbed Dante's forearm, pulled a scalpel from his coat pocket, and without hesitation, cut into his skin. Dante hissed in pain as the blade sliced through.
"Damn it, Helios!" he growled, while Helios was already drawing the fresh blood into a pipette. He tossed a cloth at him.
"Press that on it. Unless you want to ruin the carpet."
Dante pressed the cloth against the wound and already felt the familiar tingling sensation as the healing began. "What happened to our agreement that you'd talk to me before experimenting on me?"
"You took too long to decide." Helios walked over to the rat cage and lured B out with a soft clicking sound. He picked the rat up and offered it a small treat. "There you go, little guy. You're just as well-behaved as your brother," Helios said as he gently stroked the rat's head.
"I know I keep asking this, but—what exactly are you going to do with my blood?"
"Feed it to B."
"You are feeding him with my blood?!"
"Am I stuttering?"
"No, but... why?"
Helios glanced up at him, his emerald-green eyes as sharp as a scalpel. "Because he got the serum and it's not working. I'm just curious if anything changes when I give B your blood. Maybe the serum activates, maybe his DNA shifts. Or maybe nothing happens at all. Either way, I want to test it. And we've got a long drive ahead. Plenty of time for things to take effect."
Helios grabbed the pipette and gently pushed it into the rat's throat. Carefully, he let the blood drip in until it was empty. As a reward, he gave the rat another little treat.
"Such a clever little creature," he said, satisfied. He placed the rat back into the cage and wrapped the blanket around it again. He had removed the food and water for now.
Finally, he turned to Dante, his beautiful eyes locking onto him. "We'll need to make a quick stop on the way to burn A. I don't want to leave behind any evidence that could raise uncomfortable questions."
Dante nodded. "I'll put the jar in the bag."
"Then let's check out." Helios grabbed his suitcase and strode to the door. As always, he left the rest to Dante.
___
The drive to Soley was long and boring. The city was far away, and all they saw along the way were villages, small towns that didn't interest them, and endless country roads lined with nothing but fields and trees.
After three hours, they stopped to burn A.
By midday, they finally arrived in Soley. They checked into the hotel, took care of the rats, and after Helios had analyzed B's blood, they set off toward the city library.
Helios had armed himself with several syringes and had cleared almost everything out of the suitcase that had to do with their current research. He had even left the serum behind in the hotel room.
Soley was just as Dante remembered it—and yet completely different. The city was still massive, vibrant, alive. The streets were crowded, the cafés packed, cheerful voices and laughter echoed between the buildings. But no matter where Dante looked, he still saw the ruins, the corpses, the bullet holes in the walls.
He heard them again—the sirens, the screams, the rattle of machine guns. The voices of his comrades, cut off by the roar of grenades. He smelled the burning asphalt, felt the tremor of the explosion, as if it had happened only moments ago.
His hands trembled briefly. Dirt and blood no longer clung to them—but the feeling remained.
It was almost surreal how alive everything seemed, ten years later. Everything felt so... normal. As if a war had never happened here.
"They really rebuilt the city fast," Helios murmured beside him.
"So much was destroyed... How did they manage that?" Dante asked.
"Money. A lot of money. And the right political pressure," Helios replied dryly. He shrugged. "If I remember correctly, the library should be just up ahead. Do you have your card?"
"Yeah. In my pocket."
"Good. We stick to the plan. First, we go to the library, compare the maps, and then I'll try to squeeze the librarian for information. Maybe he knows something. Remember, we're very interested in the history of Soley."
"I know the plan by heart at this point, Helios."
"I hate repeating myself, but better safe than sorry. Once we're done here, we'll do a bit of sightseeing. Maybe it'll jog your memory. Tomorrow, we'll expand the search radius."
"What if we don't find anything?" Dante sighed. The city was massive. It wouldn't surprise him if they left empty-handed.
Helios looked at him with unshakable confidence. "Have you forgotten who you're here with? I'll find out what happened here," he said with a smile. "Come on, we're wasting time!"
"Alright, alright." Dante smiled too. He was right—Helios was with him. If he didn't notice anything, the search really was hopeless. But Dante wasn't ready to accept that yet. They had to exhaust every possible lead first.
The library was surprisingly hard to find—not because it was small, but because it blended perfectly into the newly rebuilt cityscape. Only after asking around did they finally find the impressive building. From the outside, it was imposing, with tall windows and ornate stone reliefs. Inside: endless shelves, narrow aisles, the smell of paper and history. Every inch of space was used.
Even the library had been destroyed ten years ago—yet now it stood again, more beautiful than ever.
While Helios spoke with the librarian—a man about Dante's age, tall, slender, with an elegant demeanor—Dante let his gaze wander over the towering shelves. It was hard to believe this place had once been nothing but rubble and ashes.
A short while later, they were led to a separate archive room where old maps, wartime documents, and newspaper reports were stored. Helios thanked the librarian curtly, waited until the man had left, and quietly closed the door.
"Alright, let's find an old map," he said as he began scanning the nearest shelf.
"Did he say where we should start looking?"
"Somewhere in this section. This whole area is filled with war-time newspaper articles too. Might be worth going through those as well."
They began sifting through the materials in silence. At some point, Helios became completely absorbed in the newspaper reports. He sank into one of the reading chairs and seemed to lose all sense of time, silently scanning article after article.
Dante continued searching for the map—until at last, he found it.
He spread the map out on the table, placed the current one next to it, and finally a third: an overview of the city before it had been destroyed.
He compared the marked locations, reconstructed troop movements, checkpoints, known explosions. And then he found it—the place where he had almost died.
But unfortunately, the map didn't reveal anything special. He could visualize how everything had looked back then, could follow the movements of the troops. But from the moment of the explosion that had nearly killed him, everything became blurry.
There was nothing he hadn't already gone over a hundred times in the past ten years. He stared at the maps as the memories of the war came flooding back.
He had never truly struggled with fighting, or even with losing comrades. Dante had always known he might die in battle someday. Death had simply been part of the job. But you didn't just shake off those experiences. His fallen comrades still haunted his thoughts.
Their voices echoed in his mind—talking about dreams and plans, about families they missed, and women waiting for them at home. He missed them. Deeply.
After the war, he had tried to find them, to make contact with any survivors. But it hadn't taken long to realize they were all dead. Their names were engraved on a memorial he had visited more than once since then.
If he was being honest, it was what happened after the war that had truly terrified him. Not being able to die. Coming back from the dead, again and again. The rapid healing. The fact that he didn't age. And that there was no one—no one—who shared this fate with him.
He hoped they would find that facility. But more than that, he hoped they would find someone who was like him. Someone else who was immortal.
Next to him, Helios let out an annoyed sigh. Dante looked up from his map and gave him a questioning glance.
"What is it?"
Helios rubbed the spot between his eyes as if trying to push back a headache. "Mass graves," he muttered at last. "There were mass graves."
Dante's attention sharpened immediately. "Does it say where they are?!" he asked, a flicker of hope flashing in his eyes.
"Not exactly." Helios flipped through a report. "Two of them were turned into official memorials—here in the city. The others? Only vaguely mentioned, no specific locations. I haven't found a single article that says where they were." He sank back into the armchair, looking tired. "And you? Any new leads?"
Dante shook his head. "Not much, really."
Helios stood up. "It won't hurt to mark the two graves we do know about. Maybe they'll help trigger something."
"It's worth a try," Dante said. He compared the map with the mass grave data and marked their locations on his own map.
"Hmm, those aren't even remotely near the other points you marked," Helios noted thoughtfully. He glanced at his watch. "We've been here for quite a while. I'll go try and squeeze some more information out of the librarian."
"What should I do in the meantime?"
"Make copies of the old maps and take them with you. Also, I haven't gone through these reports yet," Helios said, handing him a stack of old newspaper articles. "Wait here for me."
Without another word, Helios left the room, leaving Dante alone with the material.
Dante got to work. He made copies of the maps, carefully put the originals back, and sat down in the chair Helios had just vacated.
The articles mostly focused on the post-war period—the cleanup efforts, survival, and the slow regrowth from the ashes. He read about neighborhoods clearing rubble together. About relief shipments. About people from other cities who came to help. About hope rising from the ruins.
It was almost like reading a fairy tale. A chaotic, yet oddly beautiful one—ending with the full reconstruction of the city.
He completely lost track of time as he read report after report. Eventually, he came across one that featured Vale himself.
Dante immediately sat upright in the chair.
He read the report carefully, word for word. So that's where the money had come from. Vale had donated billions to help rebuild the city. He was portrayed as a philanthropist—a damn hero.
Damn it... they were so far from Panthea, it was almost laughable. Why would Vale pour so much money into Soley if he had nothing to gain?
Unless... unless the research facility was here. Somewhere in Soley.
Maybe they didn't have to search outside the city at all.
His pulse quickened.
He leaned back in the chair and stared at Vale's face. So charming, so controlled. But Dante knew better.
He had to talk to Helios about all this. Where the hell was he? Dante checked his watch—And froze.
Helios had been gone for over an hour.
Dante jumped to his feet. Helios wasn't the kind of person to waste time. If he was gone this long, it usually meant one of two things: something had gone wrong—or he had found something that completely consumed his focus.
Restlessly, Dante searched through the library. In his pocket were the copied maps and the article in which Vale had been mentioned. But there was no trace of Helios. With determination, he headed back toward the area where they had first met the librarian.
He slowed his steps when he heard a soft laugh. At the front desk, Helios was sitting—completely relaxed, a cup in his hand. His suitcase stood next to him, neatly closed. He was chatting with the librarian, who listened to him intently and let out a quiet laugh now and then.
Dante stopped in his tracks. Relief that Helios was safe mixed instantly with irritation. He had been worried—truly worried.
And Helios? Sat there like he was on a casual date.
On one hand, Dante was glad nothing had happened to him. On the other, he was angry—annoyed that Helios was sitting here, enjoying himself, while they had far more important things to do.
As if sensing his presence, Helios suddenly turned around. He finished his tea in one gulp and stood up.
"The tea was excellent. Thank you for your help," he said in a velvety voice.
The librarian blushed slightly and cleared his throat. "It was my pleasure. If you have more questions, feel free to come by anytime."
"A very tempting offer. Until next time," Helios replied with a charming smile. He grabbed his suitcase and walked toward Dante. "There you are. How about we grab something to eat before we continue? There's quite a bit we need to talk about." His tone was as casual as ever.
Dante walked beside him, throwing him glances every few steps—Helios, unfazed, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
"What was that just now?" Dante asked quietly as they left the library.
"What do you mean? I got us some useful information."
Dante exhaled slowly. "Looked more like you were having a good time with the librarian," he muttered.
Why did that bother him so much?
Helios shot him an amused look. "Oh, that. I was just using a bit of charm. People are more willing to share information when they feel safe and flattered. I gave the guy a little sweet talk to get what I needed. Works just as well on men as it does on women."
His charm, of course.
Dante couldn't help but think of that evening with Lady Evangeline. Helios had played the perfect gentleman—attentive, gracious, reading every desire from her eyes. He had been the complete opposite of his usual self. Not a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Polite. Considerate. And if you didn't know any better, you might have truly believed Helios had been interested in her.
But by now, Dante knew him fairly well. And he knew how much of it was just a facade. Helios was a master at playing roles—always exactly the one that would get him what he wanted.
And yet... the thought that Helios had played that role not just for Evangeline, but now also for the librarian—that gnawed at him. Was it jealousy? Frustration over the manipulation? Or simply the bitter realization that he had never truly seen what lay beneath Helios's mask?
He didn't know. Not yet.
Back in the car, Vale had once asked Helios to do something similar—turn on the charm and show the world what a desirable bachelor he was. Vale had always used Helios as a personal figurehead, a poster boy.
How many times had Helios been forced to play that charming role, even for people he had no desire to impress? Had Vale maybe pushed him even further...?
No! He was overthinking again.
It didn't matter what Helios had been forced to do in the past. Here in Soley, the focus was on him—on his immortality. Nothing else mattered. That was their main goal.
Even if... a part of him still wanted to know what Helios had been through. Later.
"It's getting late. Where do you want to eat?" Dante finally asked, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.
"Anything with meat sounds good. You're in a bad mood, aren't you?" Helios replied with a teasing smile as he looked around. "There's something grilled over there—works for you?"
Dante followed the direction of his pointing hand. A small, inconspicuous place tucked into a side street, from which the rich scent of grilled meat wafted out. The smell alone made his stomach growl. His mouth watered instantly.
Helios chuckled quietly beside him. "So predictable. Come on, let's get inside before your mood turns you into a berserker." He gently pushed Dante forward toward the restaurant.
"Hey—what the hell...!" Dante protested half-heartedly.
He could've easily stopped him. Helios would never have been able to move him if he didn't want to budge. But before he could think more about it, he was already inside—greeted by the warm smells and the voice of the owner.
"Evenin'! Table for one?" the man asked with a grin.
God, it smelled incredible in here.
"No, for two," Helios replied, stepping up behind him. The host gave him a surprised look, though his grin didn't fade.
"Alright then, go on in. There's a table free in the back. You want something to drink?"
"Water for me," said Helios.
"Same for me," Dante added.
They weaved their way through the narrow paths between tables, passing laughing guests and steaming plates of food until they reached their spot. The place was more rustic than refined—more pub than restaurant, but cozy. And honest.
"You could have a beer, you know. We're technically on vacation," Helios remarked. "Your cells should neutralize toxins like alcohol just as easily as poisons."
"Not while I'm on duty."
Helios raised an eyebrow and leaned back. "You're not on duty."
Dante looked at him seriously. "As long as you're unprotected, I am on duty."
Helios patted his coat pocket. "I'm not unprotected. I still have my little friends."
Ah yes, his syringes. Dante sighed. "If things get really bad, I might not be able to protect you."
"Okay, but you have to promise me you'll indulge in some alcohol soon. I'm very curious to see what happens." Helios sounded genuinely interested.
That familiar curiosity was in his eyes again—the same look Dante had seen so many times over the past few weeks. Well, drinking wasn't exactly difficult. And it wouldn't kill him. The real question was how much he'd have to drink to even feel it.
It had been so long since he last had alcohol, he honestly wasn't sure if he was even capable of getting drunk anymore.
"Once we're back," Dante promised.
Helios looked pleased. "I might even take a day off for that."
Dante gave him a disbelieving look. "So? What did you get out of the librarian?"
Helios leaned back in his chair. "Quite a bit. The guy was surprisingly chatty," he said. He gave the pub a quick scan before continuing. "He told me a lot about the war—how the fighting went down, how Nicolai was overthrown, and what happened afterward. It was, all in all, a rather nice history lesson. Lucky for us, he lived through most of it."
"Did he say anything useful?"
Their drinks were placed in front of them. They ordered their food, and only after the waiter had left did they continue the conversation.
"A few local myths," Helios said, idly turning the glass in his hand. "Stories from just after the war. Apparently, someone once saw a blood-soaked scientist running through the alleys. Another time, people claimed to have seen corpses being carted away night after night—weeks after the fighting had ended. But no one ever looked into it. People were in shock. They wanted to forget, not understand."
"Did he say where any of that was seen?" Dante asked, now fully focused.
"Well, that's where things get a bit tricky," Helios said. "Over time, more and more locations were mentioned, and no one can say exactly where any of it was actually seen. But honestly, it doesn't matter. What matters is—it all seems to have happened right here. Did you find anything else?"
"I found something in the newspaper reports," Dante said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the article—possibly accidentally taken from the library—and placed it on the slightly sticky table. "Vale was involved in the reconstruction."
Helios took the report with interest. "So, he donated money, did he?"
"Considering how far apart Soley and Panthea are, it's definitely curious that he chose to pour money into this city."
"In any case, this confirms what we've been suspecting all along—Soley might hold the answers we're looking for," Helios said, holding up the report.
"I'm starting to think we won't have to search outside the city at all," Dante mused.
"At the very least, it's smart to focus inside the city first. We check the grave sites—and then we go ghost hunting," Helios added, his eyes lighting up.
Dante sighed but couldn't help smiling. "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Of course. I'm curious to find out what my dear father has been hiding from me," Helios said with a dark, almost gleeful smile.
When the food arrived, they continued talking in low voices about what they might discover. Most of it was speculation rather than solid leads, but Helios seemed to genuinely enjoy thinking through possible scenarios—mapping out what kind of places could be secret entrances to the research lab.
All in all, it was surprisingly enjoyable to brainstorm with him about what they might be walking into.
___
After dinner, they wandered through the city for a while. Dante still felt that strange sense of familiarity as he looked at the buildings—even though everything was completely different from ten years ago.
"Does anything look familiar?" Helios asked as they walked through the streets.
"Not really," Dante sighed. "Though I could probably still tell you where some of the ruins used to be." He lowered his gaze. "Sorry I'm being so useless."
"Don't worry about it," Helios waved it off. "If you could remember everything, I probably wouldn't need to be here helping you."
Helios scanned their surroundings carefully, examining every entrance like he was expecting something. Meanwhile, Dante's eyes wandered through the alleys and along the silhouettes of distinctive buildings, hoping to recognize something. But his memory continued to betray him.
Maybe they'd find something once they reached the mass graves.
It had gotten quite dark by now. The last traces of red had vanished from the sky, and night had taken over. There were still a few people out and about, the pubs were lively, and the sound of clinking glasses and laughter drifted through the air.
Soley had a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Dante had also enjoyed the smaller towns they passed on the way here. It was a shame Helios had always stayed in the room, busy working with the rats.
"It gets pretty cold once it's dark," Helios said quietly as he buttoned his coat.
Dante rarely felt cold. His jacket hung around his waist, mostly unused. He usually only carried it out of habit.
"Want mine too?" he asked.
Helios shook his head. "If something happens, I won't be able to reach my stuff easily."
"I hope nothing happens. But if you change your mind, just say so."
"Maybe on the way back."
Eventually, they reached the memorial. They walked the entire site, inspecting the large stone slab on which the names of the fallen were engraved. Dante ran his fingers over the cold, rough surface. He read through the names—and recognized some of them. People he had once served with. Comrades and friends.
A deep sadness washed over him as name after name stirred half-faded memories. He was almost jealous of those who had managed to die.
He was the one left behind—cursed with immortality.
He read every single name, conjuring up the corresponding faces, the voices, the shared stories.
Until, finally, he found his own name. Right there where he should belong.
"Dante?" Helios suddenly asked beside him. Dante flinched, as if jolted from a dream. He turned to Helios, who was looking at him curiously. "Did something come back to you?"
"No. Just... recognized a few names."
Helios looked at the stone slab. "So that's why you were staring at it like that. Anyway, I didn't find anything here. This grave won't help us." He glanced around. "And I can barely see anything now. Should we head back to the hotel, or do you want to keep going?"
Dante shook his head. The memorial was barely lit, and it had gotten so dark they could hardly see their own hands.
"Let's head back. We could visit the other mass grave first thing in the morning," he suggested.
"That's a good idea. We'd notice anything unusual much faster that way. And after that, we could go back to the library to go through the rest of the newspaper reports," Helios said. He shivered and rubbed his arms. "Let's go."
"We're still pretty far from the hotel," Dante remarked.
"There's an alley up ahead we could take. Would save us quite a bit of time."
"That alley is completely unlit," Dante said. "We're taking the regular route through the city."
Helios let out an annoyed sigh. "I'm cold, Dante. I really don't feel like wandering around out here anymore."
Dante chuckled softly, then pulled his jacket from around his waist, stepped behind Helios, and draped it over his shoulders. It was far too big for him. "That should solve the problem, right?"
Helios pulled the jacket tighter around himself. He didn't look entirely convinced. "Fine, we'll take the long way."
Was he actually pouting?
They left the memorial and walked back the way they had come. But before they could get far, three figures stepped into their path. They were barely visible in the dark, positioned just outside the reach of the nearest streetlamp.
Two of them had drawn knives, the blades glinting in the dim light.
Assassins? Here?
"Who the hell sent you idiots?" Helios snarled.
The third raised his arm— Click. The sound of a gun being cocked.
The night went deadly silent.
"Shit!" Dante cursed. He grabbed Helios and yanked him aside just in time. The bullet grazed his back but didn't penetrate. That familiar tingling started as the wound began to heal.
"Dante! The alley!" Helios shouted.
"Run ahead of me! I'll try to cover you!" Dante shouted back.
A second shot rang out and slammed into Dante's shoulder. Damn it. Helios would have to dig that one out later—he could already feel the bullet lodged in his shoulder blade.
Helios darted into the alley he'd mentioned earlier. Dante was right behind him. The assassins gave chase, silent and coordinated, as if communicating telepathically in the dark. Another two bullets hit his back, one shot through his side. It hurt like hell but he could still move on. Even those wounds were already healing.
Dante had to slow down to match Helios' pace—he wasn't fast, and he was already gasping for breath.
"Helios! Faster!"
"I'm running as fast as I can, damn it!" he panted.
They exited the alley and turned into another one. Helios seemed to know exactly where he was going—not surprising. He probably had the whole map of the city memorized.
In the next alley, Helios dropped behind a large dumpster, greedily sucking in air. He was completely winded. He slammed his suitcase down and started rummaging through it.
"Keep them busy, Dante! I need a second!" he gasped. "Damn it, I'm not cut out for this...!"
"If anyone comes near you, scream," Dante replied, then turned around to face the three attackers.
This was going to hurt—but it was nothing he couldn't survive.
The assassins paused briefly, exchanged hand signals, then launched their attack.
Come on, then!
Dante blocked the first strike—and a knife aimed at his side from the left. Even the one who had wielded the gun had now switched to a blade. Dante was being pushed back. They were fast—so fast he couldn't get a strike in edgewise.
Whatever Helios was doing, he'd better hurry!
Dante had already taken several cuts. His skin burned and tingled. The attackers were relentless.
"Eyes shut!" Helios suddenly shouted.
Dante closed his eyes instinctively— He heard glass shatter, a scream, and then a sudden wave of heat.
When he opened his eyes again, one of the attackers was engulfed in flames.
"What the—" Dante began.
"Duck!" Helios shouted again.
Dante reacted on instinct again. Whatever Helios had thrown this time slammed against the wall—but the hiss and the stench made it obvious: acid.
"You sick bastard!" one of the assassins shouted in disbelieve—the one the vial had almost hit.
"I've been called worse!" Helios yelled back. "Here catch!" He tossed another vial—this one also missed. But the assassin still tried to catch it in panic.
Dante didn't waste time worrying about it. He used the moment of distraction to go on the offensive. He grabbed the assassin on his right and slammed his face into the nearby wall. The man howled as his skin came into contact with the acid-slicked surface.
The burning attacker had thrown off his cloak and was charging at Dante again—alongside the uninjured one. Their attention was now solely on him.
"Take this!" Helios shouted, hurling yet another vial in a high arc toward them. The assassins glanced up in alarm.
"You really should be paying more attention," Dante growled, and drove his fist straight into the face of the man Helios had set on fire earlier. The man collapsed like a felled tree—and didn't get back up.
The vial shattered harmlessly far behind them.
"Damn it! Do you ever hit anything?!" Dante shouted.
Before the last assassin could react, a sharp, guttural cry rang out—he had been struck.
Helios was standing right behind him, a used syringe in his hand. Then he simply pushed the man over. The body twitched once more. Blood poured from the man's mouth, nose, and ears. His face twisted into a grotesque mask of pain—then went still.
"It's not like I need to be good at throwing things in everyday life!" Helios cursed, panting, his hair disheveled, his forehead shining with sweat. "By the way—you're welcome. Those three had you pretty busy."
"I could've handled it without you," Dante muttered, mostly out of pride. The truth was, without Helios' help, the whole thing would've been way more of a hassle.
Helios snorted. "Sure you could. Now get up—I need a bath," he said, offering Dante a hand. He wrinkled his nose. "You could use one too."
"First, you're going to have to dig a few bullets out of my back," Dante hissed as he let Helios help him up.
"Damn, you're heavy," Helios grumbled as he half-lifted him.
"It's fine. I can stand."
Another gunshot rang out—sharp, sudden, tearing through the night.
Dante barely had time to react. He heard Helios call his name—
And then everything went black.