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The trembling scientist pulled one last lever, and then he stopped.
An ominous hissing noise started up in the background, but Vergil could see its effects almost immediately on the frozen tube on the other side of the room. The ice began to melt, slowly but surely, freeing its prisoner from its cold sleep.
“I- It’s done.”
Vergil’s sight snapped back to the man underneath his blade, following along with the nervous jitters just enough to not accidentally decapitate him. The other white coated humans in the room weren’t any better off, Vergil’s spectral swords hovering close enough to squash any other foolish attempts. The example of which was still leaking blood over their former workstation, one head shorter.
Not much of a pity. Vergil hadn’t wanted to risk losing the ones who had the access keys and needed knowledge, but when his hand was forced, he had not hesitated. Luckily for him the others had been able to provide too.
With a cold voice he asked, “How long will it take?”
“A-About five minutes, s-sir,” the one under Vergil’s blade managed to stutter out. He was sweating rivulets even in the rather cold room. The threat of death had that effect on those who weren’t used to it.
A female scientist in one of the corners suddenly spoke up, “But you’ll…” She eyed the glowing blue blade next to her nervously. When it didn’t move, she continued, “You’ll need to wait thirty minutes. The— Tissue takes longer to defrost than the cryo-fluid. To avoid complications the wait time is—”
“Unnecessary,” Vergil interrupted. “His flesh will adapt.”
At the sudden dismissal, the female scientist flinched sharply. Vergil ignored it, as well as the sharp scent of fear and urine, which had mixed with the metallic smell of blood. His focus was mostly on his prize.
“Any other procedures you still need to perform?” he asked, carefully watching how more and more of the tube became clear of frost. Condensation instead began to gather and drip down the glass.
A different human spoke up. Marked with grey in his hair and deeper lines of age in his face. His voice was a veneer of calm, but Vergil could hear his raised heartbeat underneath.
“You’ll need the codes to open the glass, as well as different ones to get rid of the shackles.” His eyes flickered to the side before righting. “And we need to do the wake-up procedure to make sure no damage is done, as well as decouple the lines.”
Vergil watched him out of the corner of his eye, and after the hand of the clock on the wall had ticked another quarter by, he spoke again. “Anything else?”
“W-We could help you transport him, sir?”
Vergil gave the man underneath his blade a blank stare at that. He cowered some more.
“You promised we would… we would live if we helped,” the woman from before cried. She seemed to be sole one brave enough to say what she truly thought.
For that, she got an answer.
“I only vowed to let you keep your life for as long as you were of use.” Vergil slowly moved his head to give all the scientists, all these wardens of his prize for so long, a cold look. “Promises, I keep.”
And with that, he finally swung Yamato, her blade not only taking the life of the one underneath her, but with a lunge quicker than a blink, also extinguishing all the other scientists in the room. The spectral swords disappeared, their silent reminder no longer needed, as Vergil flung the blood of many off his blade before sheathing her.
He breathed out. Several dull thumps sounded behind him, as the metallic scent got stronger.
For a second more he held still, listening intently for any noise beyond the steel doors shutting off this cold prison from the rest of the complex. But no armies of footsteps or piercing alarms sounded, his presence still undiscovered and the defenders most likely still kept occupied with the small incursion close to the border of this city.
How Vergil despised having to stoop so low as to rely on stealth, on subterfuge and needing to employ underhanded methods. But for the sake of his other half Vergil had already discovered he would go further than ever before.
Speaking of…
A turn and a quickened step were all it took for him to finally land in front of his prize, the tube already halfway done with the defrosting procedure. Bubbles rose in the bluish clear liquid, bumping against what remained as ice, the melting having started from the feet, though some of the top had also been liquefied again.
It didn’t make too much of a difference, since even the ice was clear enough that he could see the white of the hair they shared, the strong and lithe body stuck in a grey vest and suit, bound in metal and frost, unmoving in forced cold sleep. This was the closest they had been in a decade, and it made something strange lance through Vergil’s chest.
His hand touched the cool glass, as he stared up. Even now, even if kept in a state closer to death than life, there was a tiny flicker of starkly familiar power that greeted him.
It made his frown soften into something rare.
“Hello little brother,” he murmured. His breath fogged the glass, small droplets gliding down through it. “It’s time to wake up.”
All too soon and way too late, the last of the visible ice disappeared, the metallic cords holding the upper body shackled jolting. Warm liquid was pumped through the tubes hidden inside, to reach the veins themselves, helping heat up the still cool body. More bubbles rose, as air was pumped into the mask over that mirrored face, Vergil watching sharply as the ribcage rose and fell. The monitor next to him, showing a green trembling line, stayed still.
Vergil pressed closer. His heartbeat thumping louder and faster in his chest than it had during his entire infiltration.
That tiny flicker was close, so close, in reach and clearly there and it should be enough. The spark of power, of life and soul was still there. It should be enough.
It had to be enough. It had to.
It couldn’t be that—
A beep.
It jolted Vergil out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping over towards the monitor to watch how a second later the next blip on it appeared. And then the next. And next…
Something eased, his shoulders losing an increment of their tension, as he intently watched the spikes in that line, gradually gaining pace, gaining strength. Vergil could both hear and feel it; the dull thumps carried through flesh and bone and liquid to the glass his hand rested on.
The flicker of power grew, languid but steady. Slowly gaining vigour, slowly starting its lazy trudge to build itself back up, to mirror the storm that Vergil held inside. Though it felt more akin to a fireburst than lightning, it was right, it was perfect, the taste of it nothing but familiar to Vergil’s senses. This could never be anything but his twin.
He indulged himself a few moments more, watching his brother float in the fluid, feeling his soul’s call be mirrored. Then the state of things could no longer be tolerated. A sudden punch loudly shattered the glass separating them, warm liquid spilling, dousing him. Vergil grabbed inside, catching the little slack of a body no longer floating, only kept aloft by the metal cords. He ripped those harshly out of their anchors inside the tube next, along with the breathing line, finally tugging the limp body out of the glass prison.
He pulled him close, following the stream down to the ground, half kneeling in the chaos of fluid and glass. Cradling him like this, Vergil's focus shifted immediately to the next irritant. The metal shackles. He grabbed hold and with deliberate force tore. Them. Off!
Hidden needles were pulled out of skin next, as the harness came away, and then it was the masks turn. Luckily it had clips to more carefully remove them, though Vergil did have to tug quite a bit to get out the tube reaching into his brother’s throat connected to it. It fell with a splat to the side along with the clanging mask it was attached to. A few more shredded metal bits followed.
No care given for the mess he made, for that was the point.
And then he’d done all he could.
Vergil's mirror felt chilled and cold. No reaction to anything yet, outside of the almost unnoticeable intakes of staggered breath. It meant that despite the pulse of life him, he shared more resemblance with a corpse still.
Vergil pressed him close to achieve as much contact as he could. Even through the awful grey suit his brother was currently wearing, he could establish a direct connection, pushing some of his own warmth into that slowly waking fire.
And the fire answered.
It made a shiver run through Vergil’s body, made him continue to kneel in the mess of liquid and glass and metal shards. His twin cradled to him tightly, ignoring a quiet alarm that had started in the background. All of his focus on him.
A trivial urge made Vergil stroke the wet hair out of their shared face, rubbing over the already disappearing indentations the mask had pressed into pale skin. And when they were gone, he just held and stared.
His brother. Alive, even slack in unconsciousness. Breathing, heart beating and finally reunited again.
Another small bit of sentiment caused Vergil to lean down, pressing their foreheads together. His eyes closed on their own. Like this he could feel the slow puffs of air on his face, could sense the thrum of that strong heart and core…
It made him feel whole.
“Dante.”
There was no answer, but for the moment, Vergil didn't need one.
What he had wanted most was finally in his grasp, after months of planning and fighting and lying. What he had missed more than even the taste of clear air, was finally his. That flickering bond of power between them, warming the cool but solid body, ascertained that this was no illusion.
And all Vergil could do in the face of that, was hold him close.
He remained like that for uncounted seconds more, just breathing and feeling. A peace he rarely possessed filling him up inside, making him distracted. Dante had warmed almost fully, before he finally managed to regain reason. And with it, his surroundings flooded back into his senses.
His trousers were wet and clinging, even with steam having started to rise off them both. The smell of blood and gore had filled the room fully; the casualties of Vergil’s circumstances having created their own puddles. And that alarm in the background wasn’t as quiet as he had thought, beeping continuously with an inexhaustible voice.
Some guards would soon notice and try to find out what was causing it. If they hadn’t already.
A quiet sigh.
The dark urge to summon the armour, to help protect them both, itched at Vergil. But he deliberately pushed it down, knowing that despite the anonymity it might give him in the face of sapiens, it would be a clear signal to him, about what he was doing.
No, he was not allowed to know. Never. Not if Vergil wanted to—
He shook the thought away. Instead, he got to his feet, easily slinging the slack body of his brother over his shoulder. There wasn't so much of a twitch at the move. Dante apparently needed even more time to wake, which was uncharacteristic of him. The result of drugs, or of the conditions he had been kept in for so long, keeping him subdued.
It made new anger spark, and Vergil's determination harden.
They were getting out of this facility. And the sapiens were going to pay.
Something halfway between a groan and a hum came from over Vergil’s shoulder.
It immediately caught his attention, a spike of anticipation going through him.
One small glance behind, and he stepped around the next corner, momentarily sure they were alone. He shifted the weight off his shoulder, changing the hold so that he could set the loose body somewhat on its feet with a strong arm around the waist. His other hand went to Dante’s chin and neck, to lift and be able to get a better look at his face.
Evidently right on time.
Eyelids twitched, then flickered. Then, they were dragged open, in a manner that made it seem as if they were impossibly heavy. Almost falling shut once or twice, but Dante remained stubborn. Ultimately, he succeeded, and a hazy gaze managed to meet Vergil’s.
Dante stared with not much of a reaction. Then, a flicker of awareness. Another noise escaped him, with this time a confused lilt to it. Cloudy eyes blinked once, brows twitching lower. The new mien made it seem as if Dante was seriously doubting what he was seeing, was even somewhat offended by the sight.
Another grunt, in which Vergil felt the muscles in Dante’s jaw twitch. So, he let go, only for Dante’s head to immediately loll down. The rest of his body was also still slack, with only some small spasms here and there.
Vergil debated returning to his former grip for a better view, but before he could decide, slurred syllables escaped. They formed no words, sounding like the mumblings of a drunk, until suddenly enough cohesion came for one long-drawn thing.
“Veeeeer…gil?”
Hearing his name be called — no matter how wobbly — made a spark of vicious satisfaction go through Vergil. “Correct,” he stated proudly.
Dante’s head, still hanging down to his chest, swayed. From one side, to the other, then back again, until it got enough inertia for him to roll it somewhat upright. White damp strands fell to cover part of his face, but even then, those familiar eyes were visible enough to show their continued hazy quality.
With a bit of a lisp Dante mumbled, “Whaaaa….”
Then he blinked and made no further noise, seemingly forgetting what he had wanted to say. Instead, he stared, mouth still hanging open.
Vergil huffed at the behaviour. It appeared as if his brother hadn’t yet unfrozen his brain fully. But this was already several steps in the right direction, and with enough time, things would correct themselves.
The sound jostled Dante again. His mouth still stayed open, but a big and silly smile tugged the edges up. And the promptly he slurred out a loud, “Mmoo-noorning!”
Vergil twitched at the sudden noise.
“Quiet brother,” he chided, chancing a glance down one of the corridors.
Nothing visible yet, but new footsteps were picked up by his superior hearing. And they were coming closer.
He made his decision. “We need to move swiftly.”
Dante continued smiling, flapping a hand minimally. His speech became a bit clearer, but not much quieter. “Ooooh yay… hide n’ seek….” A moment, then he dimly frowned. “Should—hm… you be hiding?”
Vergil took one more thorough look at his twin and was met once more with that dazed overall countenance. He went back to keeping an ear out for the approaching sapien.
“Just be silent,” he ordered.
Then he got them moving. Pulling Dante along, supporting his useless feet as they swayed about randomly, rather than taking any actual helpful steps. At least he now had some tension in his formerly slack body.
Still, gaining coherence and control seemed to only be slow going. And Dante kept talking.
“O’kie… d.. dokie..!” A full-on giggle escaped. “Mo- mom won’t find us.”
Vergil ground to a sudden halt. His attention forcefully redirected to his little brother, who greeted it with another wobbly grin. The expression echoed those of days long past, where mischievousness and joy were par for the course.
There was no way…
No, this was just another side-effect of the defrost procedure. Those memories would return once Dante had more time to heal. The other option bore no possibility, not with who they were.
A gagging groan.
It tore Vergil out of the thoughts coated deeply with an unwanted feeling. Dante wore a face of suffering, but not of pain, more like… like he had been forced to consume something foul.
He was quick to comment on it.
“Ugh… I… wha’ eat?” Another groan. Then he retched, loudly, so Vergil was forced to cover his mouth. Even with a gloved hand his brother wasn’t dissuaded from talking, and he mentioned muffled something about… almonds? Bitter almonds?
“You need to keep silent,” Vergil hissed. The reminder was apparently not amiss, as he got a belligerent thumbs up.
The footsteps were getting too close. Others had joined and were approaching from the opposite side.
Vergil gritted his teeth. He did not want to fall back, so he released his brother’s mouth to draw the Yamato. He made one cut precisely through the locking bolts in the steel frame and door next to him, sheathing and then entering, dragging his limp brother inside. His attention fully set on the footsteps, who reached the corner they had been hidden behind, just after he closed the door silently.
He only breathed out once he heard them continue their path past the door. And then Vergil became aware of the presence of another person in the room.
His head snapped over, being met with the surprised face of an older woman, blond hair and lab coat, stuck behind a work bench with all kinds of taken apart weapons before her, and then he was already moving. But as his hand went to the Yamato, trying to release Dante at the same time to be able to move swiftly, the arm over his shoulder suddenly tightened and he got his feet tripped out under him.
He and his brother went down like a slain Behemoth, with an undignified grunt on his part and a whoop on Dante’s. Who also was the one to land half on top of Vergil. Vergil tried to shift out from under him immediately, but that revealed how an arm was still gripping his shoulder, and a pair of grey clad legs had clinched around Vergil’s.
Somehow his little brother had managed to attach himself in such a thorough way, that Vergil could hardly move from their prone position.
For one second Vergil stilled at the idiocy of it all. Then he bit out a sharp, "Dante!"
"Vergiiiiiiil!.... You shoul-....” Dante gave another groan. Then he tried again, “No bull-bull-bullying kids. Rules!" The last bit came out surprisingly clear, with quite some childish indignation as well.
If he weren’t actively recovering, Vergil swore he would have punched his brother in the head. "She is not a kid Dante!" he barked out.
He tried to get his brother’s arm off his neck. Dante didn’t budge, if anything, he clung even tighter.
In a petulant tone he called, "No bullying!"
Having had enough of this, Vergil tried simply to force himself up, Dante’s weight be damned. His strength was more than enough to carry his limpet of a brother around and kill a sapien at the same time. But just as he got his free arm underneath him, it was yanked out and he went down in an undignified lurch again.
And as if that wasn’t enough, all of Dante suddenly tightened around Vergil in an octopus of a hug. One hand landing in Vergil’s face, covering his eyes and effectively blinding him while his twin nuzzled into his hair like an overly affectionate pet.
He even sleepily chided, "Baaaaad Verge..."
Vergil was more than incensed at being treated as such. He struggled in the hold, which didn’t give in any way.
Where had all that coordination and strength suddenly come from?!
"Dante! Release me!" he commanded again.
He got an immediate answer. "No. Meanie.”
Vergil finally managed to pull the hand over his eyes down, being met with his goofily grinning brother right next to his face. He felt struck dumb by the situation. The culprit of which was doing nothing but continuing to endanger them both!
“Stop this!”
“No. Mom’s rules.”
Something snapped in him. "That rule was for you! You always threw the first punch! "
Dante’s grin only brightened. He knocked their foreheads together with almost too much force. "Mean," he stated insistent.
“I will rip off your arm if you don’t—”
A loudly cleared throat stopped Vergil in his tirade.
They both looked up at the same time, being met with the very unimpressed stare of the woman of before. She had moved out from behind her workbench and come closer, unarmed and reckless, swayed into a false sense of safety by Dante’s tomfoolery.
Vergil was going to have to kill—
He didn’t get any further. With too sudden of a force, his head was slammed into the floor. It made his ears ring for a second, enough time for Dante to put what seemed to be almost his full weight on Vergil’s head, propping himself halfway up.
Vergil would deny the enraged squawk he let out till his dying day.
“Heyyyyyy, can you play with us?” the ultimate fool asked in his compromised state. Trusting and open and so honestly eager in his request, it was sickening.
A pause, in which Vergil managed to shift his head to the side, to at least be able to see what was happening. Dante adapted, almost seemed to allow the change, but he still clung and weighed Vergil trapped.
The woman raised a brow, now looking almost bemused. "What game are you playing?"
"Uhhh… Hide and seek?"
The other brow went up. "Ah-ha." She seemed to study Vergil's brother, her eyes going over the grey outfit he was wearing. "You wouldn’t happen to be Dante, would you?"
Vergil bristled, but before he could even try and move to disable the danger she presented, Dante draped himself even more effectively over him, keeping him stuck. Cheerfully he proclaimed, "That’s me!"
The woman's eyes went to Vergil. "And you are—"
"If you take one step closer, you’re dead," he hissed, energy sparking along his skin to at least give some feeling of a threat, even while he was squashed under Dante.
She lifted her hands. "The twin brother. Vergil, was it?"
"That’s of no matter to you—"
"Nell. Nell Goldstein," the woman introduced herself. Vergil narrowed his eyes at her, though she continued calmly, "You seem to be stirring quite some trouble.”
Flatly Vergil asked, "What?"
"You’re currently in the middle of a breakout, am I right?" the woman questioned, unfazed.
Vergil bristled even more. "You will die before you can raise any alarm." Again, he tried to move, but Dante just pushed him down with even more force, happily humming to himself.
The hum stopped only when he went to ask, "Are you coming with?"
Vergil couldn’t help but turn his head to stare up at his absolute buffoon of a twin. Of course she couldn’t come with, she had to die! She had seen them and that meant she had to disappear! Otherwise, Vergil’s plans were all moot and they would know no peace until the end of their short stint of freedom.
Mundus certainly had informants in the sapiens ranks, so Dante having seemingly escaped by himself was of the utmost importance. Why else would Vergil have done things so messily up till now!
Nell however was not privy to what went on in the elder’s head. She tilted her head, eyes flickering between them both.
Once more Vergil made an attempt to get up and do what was required. But with simply a giggle, Dante shifted his weight and hold exactly so that all it amounted to, was an embarrassing flop.
Fine. If his little brother was so set on keeping him down, Vergil would allow it. He had other means at his disposal.
Just as he was starting to concentrate his power into one of his summoned swords, set on finishing things so, Nell spoke, “It would be something for sure…” Her gaze finally landed on Dante. “Yes, yes I suppose I am coming with you.”
The fool cheered. “Awesome!”
And Vergil was back to staring at the scene, questioning when he had accidentally left reality behind. This couldn’t be real. Why would a sapien want to— This had to be a trap—
“Does your brother not also get a say?” The woman questioned with a slight smile.
Had Vergil accidentally inhaled something in that lab? It was truly the only explanation.
Still, he tried to keep his composure, sneering, “Why would I want to take you, woman? You are useless to me and—”
“I am the head weapons manufacturer of Darkcom.”
Vergil narrowed his eyes. “You are only giving me more reason to kill you.”
“No killing!” Dante underlined that point by somehow putting even more weight onto Vergil’s ribs. And then he began pleading pitifully, “Please Vergil, please please please, let her come with us! She’s nice!”
“That’s not—"
“Verge, pleeeeeasseee!”
The weapons manufacturer pitched in again, "I can give you a clear shot out."
Vergil stopped in his efforts to push Dante’s teary face away from himself. His attention went back to the woman.
“Why,” he spit out.
She took a moment before she answered. “This was not what I signed up for. Protecting me and mine, that…” With a derisive huff, she cut herself off, looking to the side. A second, two.
Vergil was minusculely testing the tangle Dante had them in, but Dante seemed to take that as a challenge and tightened his grip even more. He even giggled again, as if they were simply playing.
What kind of substances had they put into that cryo-fluid?
With a sigh, the woman drew their attention again. “I am an artisan,” she explained with a little shrug. Her gaze however contained steel. “Not a warmonger. If my job allows them to go this far, I quit. Simple as that.”
… Vergil had not expected this.
Nell seemed to mean her every word as far as he could tell. Her heart while raised a bit, was even. Her actions before as well, not calling for help, not raising the alarm, further supported her supposed intent. As well as watching and allowing this ridiculous charade, even playing along to an extent.
She was cooperative. She could be a fail-safe, should Vergil’s actions be somewhat discovered.
A hostage. Or a target he could say to have eliminated during his time in the human world, were Mundus to grow suspicious and question him.
“Seeee, told ya she’s nice,” Dante pitched in with an inane tone. His hold relaxed, just slightly.
And it would mean that Dante wouldn't pitch a fit for the rest of the extraction. Hopefully he would regain his wits soon…
Vergil narrowed his eyes, decision made. "One wrong move. You die."
Nell nodded.
Dante suddenly let go completely and flopped to the side with all the grace of a beached whale. Another giggle escaped him, his grin loopy and satisfied.
As Vergil got up, he made grabby hands like a toddler demanding to be lifted, and once more Vergil asked himself how long it would take for Dante’s mind to completely thaw. Perhaps he should have heeded the words of those scientists more.
However, they had been foolish enough to keep his brother captive, so Vergil dismissed the thought easily.
Their death had been assured the moment they had agreed to being jailers.
They continued their escape with the new baggage.
At least Nell had learned to keep the minimal distance after Vergil had snarled at her once for daring to get too close. Smart woman. She had also kept her word of ushering them through less used halls.
Vergil kept up his low field of power despite that, scrambling most delicate technology in a half mile radius. No video evidence of them was allowed, even if it meant that Nell’s key card had to be pulled through almost five times occasionally, before working. Mundus’ spies were everywhere.
It was a trick he had carefully practiced during his raids on sapien detention facilities. That all their technology was based on electricity, made it easy in a way. Electricity was only one of several effects he could summon after all.
Dante stayed unhelpful, needing to constantly be supported, continuously leaning most of his weight on Vergil. His inability to walk was only made worse by how he swayed side to side like a drunk, intermittently humming some stupid tune. Nuzzling in close, then tipping to the side, almost faceplanting into a wall, before repeating it all once more. And that over and over. Even bouncing on his toes sometimes, despite that making him trip on almost every turn.
At least his speech had gotten clearer, though what he said remained mostly akin to a child’s ramblings, rather than anything of importance. It was however an indication that he was getting better.
Slowly they made progress. Faster than Vergil could have without Nell’s guidance, but that rankled him in a different way. He was only gradually managing to accept the current circumstance, especially that of the added hostage. He would have to adapt several of his plans for them to work now, and he was just pondering some of those changes, when the next disaster announced itself.
A specific sound snapped him back to full attention.
Another steel door with a keypad blocked their way, Nell already had her card in hand, ready to open it. She froze when Vergil barked, “Stop!”
Dante also lurched to a halt, still swaying, but he’d stopped singing. It made it easier to listen to the footsteps approaching them from the other side. Too close to immediately evade, a harsh and determined staccato of firm boots.
“Stay in front,” he commanded next, quieter.
Nell seemed to have gathered what was going on, as she kept to the front. Her body had stiffened, but without being able to see her face, Vergil wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else doing so.
He himself prepared to strike, his hand on the hilt of the Yamato, energy crackling underneath his skin. While he would never kill someone who was unaware, it did not mean that he would have to give his opponents the time to act. Especially with the precious cargo he was carrying – cargo that he would have to shortly drop to achieve his kill – he would not allow even one shot to be fired.
The footsteps were almost close enough.
“Step to the side. Then open the door,” he instructed Nell intently. Eyes fixated on where the person on the other side would probably appear. Already starting to loosen where Dante's arm was over his shoulder, so he could let go of him quickly to move.
The weapons maker obliged, though somewhat hesitantly. It was almost like she wanted to stay in front of the door, but after one small glance back, decided not to. She moved to stand with her back against the wall, face neutral. A faint beep with a light came from the pad next to her, the mechanisms unlocking and sliding the door to the side on the first try.
Just as the view became clear— armed, uniform, short black hair – the arm on Vergil’s shoulder he had almost fully slipped off, suddenly snatched and tightened around his throat. The abrupt intent and harshness took him by surprise, the hold effectively stopping him before he could even start his lunge. A faint choking sound came from him as the arm squeezed until his neck creaked, sending a fissure of alarm through him despite who it belonged to.
Betrayal stabbed into his heart.
And then his fool of a brother, who was effectively cutting off Vergil’s air supply and holding him captive, who was standing straighter than he had during their entire escape up till now, chirped, “Oh, hi again Lady! Fancy meeting you here.”
The armed uniformed soldier, who Vergil noticed had heterochromia now that he was forced to see her for longer than it would have taken him to cut her down, lowered her weapon a bit with widened eyes.
“Dante—What the fuck?”
Dante grinned and tightened his hold, despite Vergil knocking his elbow into his abdomen. It only made him give a faint huff cough, that then got buried under his cheerful proclamation of, “Look, I found my bro!”
“What are you doing here?!”
Vergil asked himself that at this very moment too, clawing for another breath.
“We’re escaping!” Dante answered brightly. “You in?”
Vergil froze in his attempts to free himself. In the same instance, the hold lessened, enough for him to get a slight breath in. The feeling of betrayal lightened, as Dante seemed only intent on incapacitating Vergil, not actually harming him. Something akin to baffled horror took over instead.
Not this again!
The woman hesitated. Her weapon still somewhat pointed at them.
Finally, the arm clinched around Vergil’s throat relaxed enough for him to breathe freely. In a more level tone Dante continued, “Or you out?”
For a second there was something of a standoff in which Vergil felt like he was more of a bystander than anything else to. The question of, since when had his twin gained full cognizance, ran through him. Followed by why in existence’s name Dante had decided to hide that fact and play the fool for so long. But mostly Vergil was watching things unfold and readying himself to take swift action, should his imbecilic twin be unable to make the right decision here.
Even with the light treachery, Vergil wasn’t going to sway from his intended goal. Not yet anyway.
The lady’s eyes flickered from Dante to Vergil, then to Nell, then back to Dante. There they lingered, before her face hardened. “Screw it.” She clicked the safety back on her weapon and holstered it. “I’m in,” she meant decisively.
Dante went back to smiling. “Nicey-o.”
He suddenly got moving and dragged Vergil along with, who was finally sure he had lost complete control of this rescue attempt of his. They passed the soldier who also looked a bit surprised by all of this, as she joined Nell in their entourage behind them.
“Oh, and no funny business this time, yeah?” Dante called over his shoulder, forcing Vergil to keep to the front.
“Not dreaming of it, asshole,” came the immediate call back. “Also, why are you here, Goldstein?”
“It seemed like a good time to clock out.”
This was why Vergil never did stealth. He should have just torn his way out of the facility in the first place. Or maybe he should have somewhat expected this beforehand.
His little brother always had been too good at derailing his plans.