"Are you ready?" Helios asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.
Dante nodded while pulling the shirt over his head. "Weren't you going to contact Spider?"
A mysterious smile flickered across Helios' face. "You'd better lie down already. Wouldn't want you to stub your little toe or something."
Dante hesitated for a moment, then complied. By now, he had learned that Helios' seemingly trivial advice often carried more weight than it appeared at first glance — even if it was just about not stubbing a toe on the bedframe.
As Dante sank onto the mattress, Helios turned off all the lights in the room — one by one, until only darkness remained. Then he lit a single, long candle. The flame flickered briefly before settling into a steady burn. Dante watched in silence as Helios carefully carried the candle over to the window and placed it in the right corner of the windowsill. It stood there like a silent sentinel in the night.
Helios sat down in his armchair by the window and stared out into the darkness. No sound could be heard except for the soft crackling of the wick.
Dante glanced questioningly at the candle. Since he had started sleeping in Helios' room, Helios had never lit a candle. So why now?
The silence stretched between them, tense and heavy like an invisible thread. Eventually, Dante couldn't take it anymore.
"Weren't you going to contact Spider?" he asked again, this time more quietly.
"That's exactly what I'm doing," Helios replied flatly, without taking his eyes off the window.
Dante frowned. "With the candle?"
"As I told you before, he's always watching me," Helios said. "This is the only way we can communicate without getting caught by the guards. Since I don't contact him regularly, it hasn't raised any suspicion so far."
Dante turned his head toward the windowsill. The flame barely flickered, as if it were listening.
"And he's really always there?" Dante asked again.
He still couldn't believe that Helios was constantly being watched by Spider. Helios' gaze remained fixed outside. His face was partially hidden in shadow. Dante could just barely make out a subtle nod.
"But how do you know he saw your signal? He can't be there all the time."
"Of course, he's not always around — the guy has to sleep sometime," Helios sighed. "But he has a few people who constantly report to him, so somehow, he's always aware of what's going on. Don't ask me how he does it. Anyway, we're waiting for a sort of knock."
"How long have you been doing this? It's amazing no one's ever noticed."
"About six years," Helios replied calmly.
Dante propped himself up a little. "Can I ask why you hired him in the first place?"
Helios finally turned away from the window and studied Dante for a moment before answering.
"Because of all the assassination attempts. As you know, my guards don't tend to live very long. Don't ask me why so many people want me dead, but there have been... quite a few attempts. Eventually, I reached out to the Assassin's Guild, just to have a backup. Since then, I haven't really been able to get rid of Spider," Helios explained.
Dante had the distinct feeling that Helios wasn't telling him the whole story. But before he could ask further, a faint sound broke the silence — no more than a soft tapping at the window, like small pebbles being thrown against the glass.
Helios barely moved. "Two knocks means a meeting the next day at 8 p.m. Three would mean in two days. Since it was two knocks, we'll see him tomorrow evening."
He got up and walked over to the candle, blowing it out in a single breath. Then he put it away, drew the curtains shut, and shortly afterward lay down in bed as well. Their method of communication was simple — but effective.
Dante guessed that if Spider hadn't responded within a certain time, Helios would probably have extinguished the candle anyway.
And really, a candle wasn't suspicious. Just... brilliant. But then again, he hadn't expected anything less from Helios.
"When I blow out the candle, Spider knows I've received his message — and that I'll be there."
"Are you meeting in the same alley again?"
"Yes. Most of the time, that's our meeting spot. Sometimes he just leaves me a package with information at the gate. There are plenty of ways. But tomorrow night, we'll see him in person."
Dante lay down thoughtfully, resting his head on his arms and staring into the darkness of the room.
"How have you kept this a secret all these years?" he asked in amazement. "You're surrounded by guards around the clock. You're rarely ever alone."
"There's always a way," Helios answered with a faint, amused tone. "And besides, Spider has had to pull me out of the fire more than once. Those moments gave us chances to coordinate. I guess we've managed to keep it under wraps this long because we're both very, very careful."
Dante raised an eyebrow, even though Helios couldn't see it in the dark. "Really? What happened?"
Helios rarely talked about himself, and even though this story had to do with Spider, Dante was eager to hear it.
Helios was silent for a moment, as if weighing how much he was willing to reveal.
"There's not much to tell," he said with a slightly irritated tone. "There were several times when all of my guards were killed — without exception. If I hadn't made that deal with Spider, I wouldn't be here today. That much is certain."
"What's he like? I mean, aside from the fact that you clearly can't stand him."
"Annoying," Helios replied immediately. There was no doubt in his voice. It was fairly dark, but Dante could easily imagine the irritated look on his face. "He's hard to read. Always one step ahead, never quite within reach. I don't know what goes on in his head — and that's exactly what makes him so dangerous. You'll meet him soon enough. Then you'll understand."
Helios clearly didn't want to talk about Spider any further. The rustling of the blankets told Dante that Helios had changed his position, so he settled down comfortably as well.
It was a shame that Helios didn't share more about himself. Dante hoped that one day, he would open up a little more. Then again, he had the feeling that Helios had already accepted him — at least to some degree.
"I hope he really helps us," Dante said eventually. "It could make a lot of things easier — especially when it comes to your safety."
"Don't worry about me," Helios murmured, followed by a yawn. "I can take care of myself."
Dante grimaced silently as he recalled all the times Helios had come dangerously close to dying. There was no point arguing about it. He knew Helios always carried a poison syringe and enough tranquilizers to knock out an entire army.
If he caught his enemies off guard, he could use his weapons. If not, Dante had to be close enough to protect him.
"Of course you can," he said gently instead. He closed his eyes. "Good night, Helios."
There was a pause.
He hoped Helios would sleep well — at least tonight. He was still haunted by nightmares, and more than once, he had whispered the names Davis and Penelope in his sleep. On some of those nights, Helios had unconsciously curled up against him — and afterward, he seemed to sleep more peacefully.
Dante cherished those small moments where he could help, even if not intentionally. Sometimes, when Helios was especially restless, Dante would simply pull him into his arms without a word. And it worked.
"Good night, Dante," came the quiet reply. Helios' voice was calm, but not truly sleepy.
Dante, on the other hand, felt sleep wash over him — warm and heavy like a blanket.
Before he could think of another question, he was already drifting into deep sleep.
___
In the evening, they stood before the narrow, shadowy alley where Helios had spoken with Spider just a few weeks ago. The dim glow of the streetlamp barely reached the point where the path dissolved into darkness. Dante stared into the gloom, straining his eyes — but he saw nothing.
Spider wasn't there. Or was he?
"Relax," said Helios in his usual calm tone. He leaned casually against the wall, watching Dante as he peered into the alley.
"I am relaxed," Dante muttered. "I just wanted to see if he was already here."
Helios gave a quiet snort. "If he doesn't want you to notice him, you won't. That guy is quieter than a damn cat. But if he wants you to hear him — then you will."
"Like a cat, huh?" Dante murmured.
Helios glanced at his watch. "An ugly, sluggish, and perpetually late cat," he scoffed.
"That overworked cat puts in quite a bit of effort, considering all the tasks you keep piling on him," came a deep, velvety voice suddenly — from right behind them. "But if we're going with comparisons, I'd say I'm more like a spider. Silent. Invisible. And deadly, when the moment's right."
Helios spun around with a start and let out a half-choked sound. "Damn it, Spider! Stop sneaking up on me like that!"
Spider chuckled softly, stepped closer, and playfully pressed a finger to Helios' lips. "Shhh, Helios. You wouldn't want anyone eavesdropping on our little rendezvous, would you? Or have you developed a thing for being watched?"
It was the first time Dante saw the assassin up close. Spider was about the same height Davis had once been — lean, athletic, with dark skin and jet-black hair styled to effortless perfection. Not too flashy, yet everything seemed exactly as it should be. His clothing hugged his frame, accentuating the defined muscles beneath the fabric.
But what unsettled Dante the most was the man's face: striking, yet oddly forgettable. Sharp eyes filled with intelligence and awareness — set in features that could vanish from memory an hour later.
Perfect for an assassin.
Helios rolled his eyes in irritation and slapped Spider's hand away. "Thanks, but it's already enough that you're constantly watching me."
"You do put on some great shows," Spider replied with a wide grin. "Sometimes I wonder if you secretly enjoy all that attention."
Helios shoved him aside with an annoyed grunt. "And I've told you a hundred times what personal space means. Why can't you just remember that?"
He rubbed the spot between his eyebrows — a clear sign that his patience was wearing thin. Dante knew the gesture well. Helios looked like he was already regretting ever asking Spider for help.
Dante watched the two of them with growing interest — and a hint of discomfort. He knew they'd known each other for six years. But that familiarity, that teasingly physical tone between them... It was hard to tell whether they just knew each other too well — or too well.
Either way, he didn't like how close Spider got to Helios.
"Since when do you bring your toys to our meetings?" Spider asked mockingly, his words aimed at Helios. "Must be something special, considering you didn't even bring your lover last time."
Helios scoffed. "I trust him. That should be enough for you."
Spider stepped toward Dante. Silently, he circled him, his eyes scanning every detail.
Dante hated the way Spider looked at him — like he was something to be tested or broken. He hated being called a toy. But he forced himself to stay calm. He didn't want to ruin anything for Helios, and he had promised himself he'd only interfere with the negotiations if it became absolutely necessary.
Still, the more interest Spider showed in him, the more Dante felt like he was being drawn into the assassin's web.
"You look familiar," Spider muttered thoughtfully. He stopped in front of Dante and studied his face. His eyes widened slightly as if something had clicked — then he grinned.
"Aren't you the one we were supposed to hurt a few weeks back? I was sure Belladonna got you."
"He didn't," Dante said evenly, evading the full truth. "He hit my leg, I fell, hit my head on the asphalt. I got lucky."
"Hmm…" Spider didn't look convinced. He examined Dante closely, as though waiting for a crack in his story. Dante could only hope Spider wouldn't figure out the truth — at least not until they were done in Soley.
Then Spider turned back to Helios. "So that's why you brought him? Because he's tougher than the others?"
"Spider, do me a favor and just shut up," Helios said, clearly annoyed. He sounded exhausted — and Spider hadn't even been there for five minutes. At least Dante could now be sure that Helios really didn't like him.
Which… was oddly reassuring.
Spider chuckled. "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"…" Helios didn't respond. He looked at Spider with clear reluctance before finally sighing. "Let's just get this over with."
"So?" Spider asked, still grinning at him, clearly enjoying the entire situation. "What can I do for you?"
"We need your help. You wouldn't happen to have the coming week free, would you?" Helios' tone had shifted — now all business.
Spider looked at him thoughtfully. "What are you planning?"
"Do you have time or not?"
"I'd have to shuffle a few things, delegate some tasks... but yeah, I could clear my schedule," Spider said, now sounding a little more serious. "So? What do you need me for?"
"Good." Helios tossed him a small pouch. There was a faint metallic clinking sound. Spider caught it effortlessly, opened it, peeked inside — and gave an appreciative whistle. Then he closed the pouch, tucked it into his jacket, and his eyes gleamed in the half-light like those of a predator.
"That's more of a down payment than you've ever given me," Spider continued. "Must be something important. Alright, you have my attention — and my word that I'll take care of whatever it is you need."
"Good," Helios replied coolly. "I want you to help us break into a facility."
Spider looked at Helios in surprise, then let out a low laugh. It sounded genuinely amused — deep and rough in his throat.
"You want to break into a facility? Since when do you take risks like that?"
"Let's just say I want to get back at my father."
"Oh? And what brought on this sudden change of heart?"
Helios shrugged, his piercing gaze fixed on Spider as if trying to cut through him. "He asked one thing too many of me."
Dante remained silent, letting Helios handle the conversation. He clearly didn't want to tell Spider the full story — he was feeding him a carefully crafted lie. And it wasn't Dante's place to interfere or screw it up.
Helios had once said Spider was completely for sale — and the way the assassin had tucked the jingling pouch away almost tenderly left no room for doubt.
"Hmm, I think I can guess what this is about," Spider said in a more serious tone. Then the grin returned. "So, which one of Daddy's pet projects are we tearing down?"
"Ever been to Soley?" Helios asked, unbothered. He responded to almost none of Spider's comments unless they were mission-related.
"Soley? What the hell could be in Soley? Isn't that some quiet little vacation town?"
"There's a secret facility there. That's where we're going in," Helios said flatly.
He proceeded to explain everything they had discovered on-site — how heavily guarded it was, what the entry points looked like, and more. Helios left nothing out from what Dante had reported, skillfully weaving in additional intel he had found in the restricted sections of the library.
It was such a concise, strategic summary of the situation that any military officer would've envied him for it.
Spider listened attentively, leaning against the cold brick wall of the alley without so much as a twitch. Only occasionally did he nod slowly. When Helios finished, a moment of silence passed.
Soon after, Spider had a complete picture of the operation — except for the real reason behind it. Helios hadn't said a single word about Dante's condition or the true purpose of the experiments in Soley.
Instead, he'd floated a vague theory about human experimentation taking place there. That seemed to be enough for Spider.
"So, it's just you, me, and the muscular boy?" Spider asked, as if to confirm.
Helios nodded. "You two clear the way. I'll follow."
"It would be much easier to just kill everyone," Spider remarked.
Helios shook his head and looked at Dante. "No unnecessary casualties."
Spider's cold gaze settled on Dante once more. "Understood." Eventually, Spider just shrugged and gave an arrogant grin. "So, when do we start?"
Dante was beginning to understand why Helios found Spider so exasperating. He himself couldn't warm up to the assassin either. Spider was unpredictable and had a talent for masking his true intentions.
He was dangerous.