With a dull thud, the guard's body sank to the ground—unconscious, sent into the realm of dreams by a well-aimed blow from Dante. The pain in his knuckles was already fading, and only a faint, fleeting tingle reminded him that he'd just been in a fight.
Relieved, he lowered his gaze to his gloved hands. Glad that his opponents' blood clung to them. That way, he didn't have to hide anything or explain why his skin hadn't split open during the brawl. It helped conceal the fact that he hadn't suffered a single injury.
Spider wouldn't grow suspicious, then.
Luckily, they had managed to take out the guards without coming under fire even once. Apparently, the ambush had caught them completely off guard—none of the men had had the nerve to fire into the chaotic skirmish. Whether out of fear of hitting one of their own or sheer confusion, Dante didn't care. The important thing was, they hadn't pulled the trigger.
Because if they had used their weapons, things would've turned out very differently. Dante and Spider would have been injured—or worse. And any injury would have raised uncomfortable questions. Especially if it miraculously disappeared a short time later.
Dante straightened up, stretched, and took a deep breath. His muscles tensed beneath the dark clothing as he looked down at Spider, who stood a full head shorter than him. A childish gesture, he knew—but he couldn't resist this brief moment of dominance. Even if it would hardly impress Spider.
The assassin looked completely relaxed, as if the fight had energized him rather than worn him out. A self-satisfied grin played on his face, as though the whole thing had been just a game. A trace of sweat glistened on his forehead, which he wiped away with exaggerated nonchalance—as if he were posing on a runway and not standing in an illegal research facility where they'd just knocked out a dozen men.
Dante clenched his teeth. He really couldn't stand Spider.
He was loud, cheeky, shameless—and always all over Helios. Always too close, always with a provocative comment on his lips. He made a game out of provoking Dante—and it worked every time. No matter how hard Dante tried to ignore him, he always took the bait. Always. Spider knew exactly which buttons to push, and he did so with a sadistic glee that drove Dante mad.
And still—as much as he hated him, as hard as it was to admit—Spider was good. Damn good.
Not even Dante's jealousy could change that.
He fought with a precision and efficiency Dante had rarely seen. Every movement was calculated, every strike on point. His apparent carelessness was nothing but a mask—beneath it lurked a dangerous professional.
He was slowly beginning to understand why Helios had bitten the bullet and brought him along. Why he had added that unbearable lunatic to their team. Even if it meant putting Dante's secret at risk—or the real reason they had broken into this facility.
Without Spider, a combat situation like the one they'd just faced would have been nearly impossible for Dante to handle alone. He didn't even want to imagine a scenario where it had just been him and Helios.
"Quite a lot of guards. What exactly are they researching here again?" Spider asked casually as he crouched down next to the unconscious men, secured their weapons, and tied them up with practiced ease.
"You'll have to ask Helios. He didn't tell me much," Dante deflected. He had no desire to talk to Spider for too long and risk letting something slip by accident.
"Good idea," Spider grinned.
With the grace of a big cat, he rose and strolled toward the corridor where Helios was supposed to be waiting. Strangely, he still hadn't come over—even though he must have realized the fight was over by now.
"Heliooooos, come to me, darling!" Spider sang out.
Dante's jaw tensed. Instantly, he felt his pulse quicken again, that familiar red flicker flare up behind his eyes. It was astonishing how easily Spider could get under his skin with just a single sentence. He struggled to maintain his composure, hoping Spider wouldn't notice how perfectly his teasing had hit the mark—again. God, that guy was insufferable!
Then, suddenly, Spider fell silent. He continued down the corridor, looking around, opening a few doors.
"Helios? Where aaare you?" he called again—this time with less mockery, more concern.
Alarmed, Dante watched Spider as he continued his search down the hallway. Tension shot through him as he jumped to his feet, ready to follow the assassin and help look for Helios. When had he disappeared? No… the more important question was: Where had he gone?
Surely he couldn't have been kidnapped in the short time Dante and Spider were fighting off the wave of guards. They hadn't been fighting that long. A cold hand of worry gripped his heart.
But… it was possible. Helios was terribly weak. If someone had caught him off guard, he wouldn't have been able to defend himself. How many times had Dante already had to pull him out of situations where he'd nearly died?
This wasn't just a problem. It was a disaster.
Helios's disappearance was bad. Very bad. Especially because they had no idea where he'd been taken. Had someone dragged him back deeper into the facility—or somehow slipped past them with him? Or had he wandered off on his own?
No. He had said he would wait. Why would he just leave?
A fleeting, yet painful thought rose within him: What if he hadn't just been kidnapped? What if he was already…? Dante cut himself off internally. No. He couldn't afford to panic. Not now.
But this wasn't just about any companion. This was about Helios.
If something happened to him… it wouldn't just destroy Dante's only hope of ever living a mortal life again. It would also destroy something else. Something far heavier—though he could barely admit it to himself.
He simply didn't want Helios to die.
He wanted to stay by his side. Especially now, when something was beginning to change between them. When Helios had started to trust him—and Dante had begun to want more than just answers.
Just a few hours ago, Helios had taken his hand of his own accord. Without Dante having to initiate it. He hadn't expected it, hadn't even wished for it. Helios had simply done it—and Dante could still feel the warmth of his hand lingering in his own.
Absent-mindedly, he looked at his hand, as if he could still sense the touch. Then he clenched it tightly into a fist.
No. Nothing could have happened to Helios.
He had to find him. Now.
But just before Dante could follow the corridor Spider had disappeared down, the assassin reappeared. His steps were brisk but controlled, his brow furrowed, his eyebrows drawn together in irritation.
Despite his usual teasing demeanor, there was now a trace of real concern in his eyes—and that made Dante's heart sink even deeper.
"Please tell me he's just in the bathroom," Dante said quietly.
Spider snorted. "If only. He's gone. Who knows where. There's nothing—nothing—that even remotely points to where he might be."
"Shit," Dante cursed. "You think they got him?"
"Who knows? Wherever he is, I just hope he's still alive. Dead, he's no use to me," Spider said with a cold look.
Dante stared at him, stunned. Slowly, the words sank in, and he realized Spider wasn't worried about Helios because he cared about him.
Suddenly, Helios's words echoed in his mind—how Spider loved money more than anything else.
Dante's already frayed patience finally snapped.
Before he could think clearly, Dante grabbed Spider by the collar and yanked him close. Rage flared in his eyes—hot and furious.
"Are you serious?! You only care about the damn money? He could be dead, for god's sake!"
Spider didn't flinch. He looked at Dante calmly, his voice cold as ice. "So what? If he's dead, I'm out of here. Helios has exactly one value—and that's his money. Everything else is irrelevant."
Dante was at a loss for words. Spider had always hovered around Helios, flirting with him whenever he could, acting as if there was something more than just friendship between them—even if it had only ever been one-sided. But he had never expected a reaction like this.
Then, without any warning, Spider laughed. Dry. Mocking. As if this were all some game he controlled.
"Relax, big guy. He's not dead yet, so let's figure out where he is. I want to wrap this up and get paid," he said with an arrogant grin.
Dante growled, let go of him, and shoved him back a little. The anger boiled through his veins like fire.
"Then move," Dante snarled. "The sooner we find him, the better."
Spider adjusted his shirt, then eyed Dante with visible amusement.
"Ah, that look. I like it. Anger suits you."
"Shut the hell up," Dante snapped.
"Are you sure? I could tell you some interesting things on the way," Spider replied in a cheerful tone. He glanced back down the hallway. "At least no one came back this way. I rigged a trap along the exit—it's still untouched. Didn't find any blood either, so he shouldn't be injured."
Dante looked at him in surprise. "When did you set a trap?"
Spider smirked smugly. "There are reasons Helios needs me by his side—and why he pays me a king's ransom."
Ah. There it was again—that teasing tone. Dante rolled his eyes. This time, he definitely wouldn't fall for Spider's games. The guy was damn near impossible to read. His mood shifted so fast, Dante couldn't tell whether he was genuinely worried or just obsessed with the payout.
Still, he did seem a little on edge—though he clearly tried hard to hide it.
Suddenly, a clattering sound echoed behind Spider, followed by a muffled gasp. They both turned to the source of the noise almost simultaneously.
A woman crouched against the wall, nearly hidden in the shadows. Her hands were clamped over her mouth in panic, her eyes wide with fear. Her chest heaved rapidly, pure terror written across her face.
Dante frowned.
Spider, on the other hand, reacted instantly. Smoothly, he approached the woman, crouched in front of her, and put on a smile that was far too charming—a mask of sugar and steel. Gently, almost tenderly, he pried one of her hands away from her face.
"You didn't happen to see where our little friend was taken, did you? You know—small, cute, wears glasses, messy black hair."
The woman flinched. "W-what…?" she barely managed to whisper.
A second later, Spider grabbed her by the blouse, yanked her to her feet, and pressed a gleaming blade to her throat. Dante hadn't even seen him draw the knife. The woman whimpered, her eyes begging for mercy.
"I don't like asking twice," Spider whispered with a smile so cold it could freeze blood in your veins.
"K-kidnapped…?" she stammered, trembling. Her hands clutched at Spider's wrist. Then, hesitantly, she released one hand and pointed with a shaking finger down the corridor to their right.
"H-he wasn't kidnapped! He… he went that way! All by himself!"
Spider jerked her even closer. "Went? You mean to tell me he just walked off on his own?" he asked, his voice sharp enough to cut steel. His eyes locked on hers, unrelenting.
"Spider," Dante said quietly. He couldn't keep watching the sheer terror in the woman's face.
"Yes! Yes! He went on his own! I swear it! P-please… I don't know why… please…"
All at once, Spider let her go with a smile that almost passed as normal.
"There we go! Be grateful, woman—if he weren't here, you'd be dead," he said, nodding toward Dante. Then he turned in the direction she'd pointed. He paused for a moment, glanced over his shoulder, and fixed her with another piercing stare. In a casual tone, he added: "If you lied, I'll find you and kill you."
With that, he vanished down the corridor.
Dante sighed and followed him.
The woman was definitely a researcher, and looking at her made his stomach turn. Yet she was so terrified, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to apologize on Spider's behalf. He bit his lip as he walked past her.
But he would offer no forgiveness—not until he knew whether this facility was the one responsible for turning him into the monster he had become.
What mattered now was finding Helios and putting an end to all of this.
"If it weren't for that damn 'We-don't-kill-people' pact, we'd have found him by now—and whatever you're here for would be dealt with already," Spider complained. "It'd be so much easier to just kill the people in here. We're only making it harder on ourselves."
"We shouldn't just kill everyone in here. There might be innocents among them," Dante muttered.
Spider rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more. For now.
They no longer made much of an effort to stay hidden. They'd been spotted, taken out several guards, and no matter where anyone else was in the facility, by now everyone had to know there'd been a break-in.
But the path ahead was quiet.
Eerily quiet.
They hadn't run into anyone else.
"You think they fled?" Dante asked softly, scanning their surroundings.
"Could be," Spider replied, also glancing around. He opened a door and peeked into the next room. The search was definitely slowing them down.
"We weren't exactly quiet. They should've heard us, especially in this area."
"There's no way those were all the guards," Dante said doubtfully. "I would've expected them to try harder to stop us. I mean, they're with Vale—his guards are usually pretty damn good at what they do."
Spider gave a mocking laugh. "Good? They die too fast for that. There's a lot of them, that's the only thing that makes Vale's guards stand out."
Dante shot him an angry glare.
"What? You've been in this long enough to know I'm right," Spider said with a mock-innocent look. "You're one of the tough ones. Like Davis back then. Guys like you are rare. Congratulations, big guy—you're special."
Dante clenched his fists. Spider wasn't wrong. Guards did die constantly. Just during the time Dante had served under Vale at Helios's side, so many good men had died he'd long since lost count.
Spider opened the next door and stopped. His gaze fixed on something lying on the floor. A low, almost humming sound escaped his throat—like he'd found a particularly interesting toy.
"Well well… looks like someone already had some fun," he said with a grin that promised nothing good.
"What do you mean by that?" Dante asked warily.
Spider didn't answer and walked straight into the room. His usual routine: a cryptic hint, a little mystery, followed by the delayed dramatic reveal. Dante groaned inwardly. He'd had enough. He was done with Spider's games.
He stepped over the threshold—and froze in place.
On the floor lay a guard—or rather, what was left of him. The corpse was twisted in a pool of blood, his face contorted into a grotesque mask of pain and madness. Thick, dark blood had streamed from his eyes, nose, mouth, and even his ears. His eyes were bloodshot, half-open, as if they had been unable to comprehend the last thing they saw.
Next to his head lay an empty syringe.
Dante didn't need to check his pulse to know he was dead.
"What the hell happened here…?" he murmured.
Spider smirked. "Helios did a thorough job."
"Looks like it," Dante replied, though his thoughts were already turning to what lay ahead—and what was missing. Helios was clearly no longer here. It seemed he'd had to defend himself. Or had he even lured the guard into this room on purpose to take him out?
But something about it felt off—the room was far too tidy. No overturned furniture, no blood splatter besides the pool beneath the corpse. No signs of a struggle. If there had been an encounter, it must have been quick. Cold. Precise.
On the one hand, Dante felt relief. On the other, this situation only raised more questions. He could clearly see how the guard had died. Helios must have used his poison to kill him. Dante had seen the effects of Helios's favorite toxin on himself too many times—while wiping his own face clean after being killed over and over by that same poison.
The dead man bore Helios's unmistakable signature.
"We should move on. We're just wasting time staying here," Spider said cheerfully. "Who knows, maybe he left us a few clues to help us find him."
With that, he stepped out of the room and continued on his way. Dante suspected Spider's good mood came from the fact that the corpse was a strong sign Helios was still alive. Though clearly, someone—or something—had pushed him to keep moving. Otherwise, he would've come back.
Dante glanced once more at the dead guard on the floor, then followed Spider. Helios had surely had no choice but to kill him. Given his physical weakness, it was hard to imagine he could win a fight against a trained, battle-hardened man—especially one three times his size.
All he had was the element of surprise.
Without it, there wasn't much he could do. As far as Dante knew, Helios's means of self-defense were very limited.
They descended another flight of stairs and arrived at another level, similar in appearance to the one above. But the smell was different. Metallic, unpleasant. Dirty. Like death.
Spider wrinkled his nose. "I think we've reached the research center."
Dante slowly looked around.
Something suddenly tightened in his skull—a stabbing pain shot through his forehead, as if someone had jammed a needle into his brain. He staggered slightly, instinctively clutching his head. Cold sweat broke out on his brow. The walls blurred. The ceiling spun. An image flashed through his mind, like something from a fever dream—metal tables, needles, voices behind glass, pain.
He knew this place.
He had been here.
"You okay?" Spider called from a few steps ahead.
Dante shook his head and tried to keep his voice steady. "Headache. Nothing more."
"Understandable. Smells worse than a slaughterhouse down here," Spider replied flatly, but kept walking. "Oh!"
He quickened his pace slightly until he reached a doorway. A foot was sticking out of the room, lying across the hallway floor. To Dante's relief, the body was still attached.
He walked over to Spider and looked into the room: another dead man. Another empty syringe beside him.
"Aaaw, he's leaving us so many presents," Spider said cheerfully. "I always wanted a cat!"
With that, he got up and continued down the corridor.
Dante followed, shaking his head. How could Spider be so gleeful while inspecting the bodies Helios had left behind? Dante couldn't wrap his head around how someone could actually be happy about corpses. The whole situation was utterly bizarre.
While Spider wandered ahead like he was on a school field trip searching for the next body—and at this point, Dante was fairly certain there would be more—Dante was filled with worry about how Helios was doing.
He expected to find another corpse around every corner—only this time, it might be Helios.
The thought terrified him. With all the strength he could muster, he tried to push it away. He had to stay positive. No matter how tightly the anxiety gripped his chest.
As expected, they came across another dead man, and two more guards who were unconscious.
None of them were Helios.
That brought Dante a sense of relief—but did little to ease his worry, since they still had no idea where Helios was. They tied up the unconscious guards and continued on their way.
Helios had done an impressive job. He'd gotten quite far—and all on his own.
It was honestly astonishing that he'd managed to take out three people.
Whether he had killed them or merely used his sedatives didn't matter—not when considering his total lack of physical strength. He'd never received proper combat training, or even the basics of self-defense.
Dante remembered vividly all the conversations he used to have with Davis about Helios—and the constant worry Davis had expressed again and again.
He had promised Davis he would always look out for Helios.
And here he was now—having lost the one person he was supposed to protect.
Please be safe. Please be alive…
His thoughts drifted back to all the guards they had tied up so far. Some had come with handcuffs; the rest they'd restrained with whatever they could get their hands on. It wasn't like they were carrying endless supplies with them.
Whether their attempts at restraint would actually hold in the long run was unclear. Spider kept making snide remarks about how pointless it was for Dante to insist on not killing anyone—and that continuing like this was a waste of time. They had no guarantee that the ones they tied up would actually stay tied up. Someone could come along and free them at any moment.
With any bad luck, they might not even make it out of this massive complex without trouble. Maybe it had been a stupid idea—but Dante wasn't ready to admit to a mistake that hadn't even happened yet.
They had found several rooms that clearly showed signs of human experimentation. In some, dried blood still clung to the metal tables. It seemed the place was still very much in use. Despite the mess, there wasn't a trace of dust anywhere.
Just the thought of how many people must have died down here sent a cold shiver down Dante's spine.
Spider had looked through the documents scattered across the rooms. He'd shaken his head and dropped them carelessly without a word. Most of the reports were written messily, barely legible, and it was impossible to figure out what the actual research here was even about.
Here and there were notes about the condition of test subjects—vital signs, wounds hastily scribbled onto sheets of paper, and the effects of various substances.
The choice of chemicals seemed utterly random. Judging by the records alone, one might assume the entire purpose of the experiments was simply to find out the most effective way to kill a human being.
Even Dante had picked up enough pharmacological knowledge by now to recognize that.
Especially since Helios had taught him quite a lot in the time they'd known each other.
Still, even though they were searching for Helios and didn't spend long in any single room, it felt to Dante like they'd been looking for him forever.
He was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the corridor.
Spider and Dante froze. They looked at each other and gave a brief nod—then ran toward the direction the scream had come from.
The scream had been full of agony. Dante prayed with everything in him that it hadn't been Helios. He was fairly certain it wasn't—but he still couldn't shake the awful feeling in his gut that something truly horrific awaited them.
Spider came to a sudden halt, listening toward a closed door.
Dante could hear his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. It took him a moment to notice the faint whimpering coming from the room where Spider had stopped. A quiet, muffled voice was speaking, but they couldn't make out a single clear word through the metal door. It was also unclear who was in there. He couldn't tell who was whimpering—and he didn't care. He wanted nothing more than to rip that door open immediately.
But Spider stopped him. Silently, he placed a finger over his lips and motioned for Dante to wait. Dante bit his lip to keep from yelling at him and shoving him out of the way.
The assassin stood still in front of the door for another moment. Then that familiar grin crept back onto his face.
"He's in there," Spider said at full volume. He reached for the doorknob and flung the door open. "Helios! There you are! I was starting to worry we'd never find you!"
Worried, Dante followed the assassin into the room—only to freeze in the doorway.
The scene that greeted him was brutal. The room was in chaos, a shelving unit had been knocked over, its contents scattered across the floor. Amidst the mess lay a guard, bleeding from every orifice just like the previous corpses. The man was most definitely dead.
In the center of the room stood a metal table, blood dripping from its edges. On the table, a man whimpered quietly.
And in front of the table...
...stood Helios.
He held a scalpel in one hand, wore bloody disposable gloves and a white lab coat soaked in blood.
Dante stood frozen, staring at the scene before him. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. This, too, had been Helios's doing. He hadn't just taken out a guard—he seemed to be in the middle of slowly torturing another person to death.
There was so much blood.
If the man on the metal table hadn't still been whimpering, Dante would've assumed he was already dead.
It all felt unreal. This couldn't really be happening.
Suddenly, Dante's mouth felt bone dry. He wanted to speak, to call out to Helios, but no sound would come out. He swallowed once, trying to moisten his throat. Uncertainly, he took a step closer to him.
"Helios?" Dante asked softly.