Soliloquy

Chapter Five: Adrift

Chapter Five: Adrift

Note: Once again, Mallovarwen and Skylarmorgan1899 are my emotional support reviewers, and reading your comments always puts a smile on my face. Thanks a bunch! I'm always happy to read everyone's comments and feedback, so feel free to send them my way. I don't care if it's just a smiley face emoji. Now back to the story!

The overhead fan that hung from the double-height ceiling spun lazily as it wafted barely chilled air throughout the front office. A nearly finished box of pizza sat next to a pile of now negligible utility bills and empty drink bottles on the desk. Despite the fact that the music was still booming loudly throughout the space, Dante had slumped onto the front desk, his arms hanging over the far side facing the front door. The Youngest Son of Sparda had dozed off shortly after his troublemaking older brother and nephew had vacated the premises. It hadn't been until they left that he realized how much he needed a good nap.

At seemingly the precise moment that Dante entered deep sleep, the front double doors slammed open and knocked against their respective sides of the wall. Dante jolted slightly at the sound but didn't make an effort to raise his head and see who had just come into the building. He already knew. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Not by a longshot.

"So you both made it back, hu," Dante inquired, the desk muffling his speech as he laid face down on it," I was starting to think that Nico had finally crashed the van and killed you ya."

Standing in the doorway was none other than Nero and Vergil, the two of them looming over Dante from across the room like gargoyles. Nero crossed the room and leaned over the desk, trying to rouse Dante from his restful state. The older man didn't exactly feel like snapping out of his groggy delirium when Nero probed him, however.

Nero stood back and shook his head. The gravity of the time constraints they were under made him feel uneasy, to say the least. "Come on, get your ass up. We need to get going!"

Dante rolled his head to the side to make blurry eye contact with the younger descendant of Sparda. What was he going on about now? He then glanced over at the clock in another part of the room, exhaling in discontent. "And where the hell are we supposed to be going at almost ten at night?" Dante asked in a mixture of distaste and disinterest. He had been taking a perfectly good nap and now it was ruined.

From his place standing against the far wall of the shop next to the now-closed doors with his arms folded across his chest, Vergil chimed in. "Apparently, to Fortuna. I would have never seen myself going back there, but here we are."

Dante sat up at his brother's statement, now more curious and perplexed than irritated at them both. "And why would we go there?"

By this point, Nero was pacing aimlessly in front of Dante's desk. He was not accustomed to being this out of his depth in a situation, and the time pressure only made things worse. At least when his arm had been cut off, there were more definite variables in the situation. Like the guarantee of pain, suffering, and the risk of bleeding to death. But using some sort of arcane anchor to pull a soul from Purgatorio, or limbo, or hell, or whatever this place was called and risking basically everything? Everything about this situation was supremely stress-inducing. He barely understood the concept of what they were even going to use the book for when they got it. All he knew is that they needed it because it was an item that V clearly cherished and that made it vital to this situation. And somehow it had made even less sense when he had tried to explain things to Nico. Magnolia would have to explain it to her later.

Clearly realizing that his hypertension riddled son wasn't going to answer his brother's question, Vergil interjected again. "We need to recover something important and we have a rather short window of time to accomplish our goal."