TOSKA

Suddenly, air is rushing into your lungs. For a moment, you feel almost as if you're falling, and in your panic you squirm and fuss and fight and-

You feel the push cushions of a familar chair and the feeling of fabric and metal against your clothes.

You breathe, deep ragged breaths that almost hurt. The light of the room stings your eyes, and you realize where you are. When you are. And what you are.

...

A sigh creeps from your throat. And you realize you feel asleep on the chair after crying because...

Because...

...

No. You're not remembering that right now. You're distracting yourself.

Your gaze instead moves to look around the room. Dante's room, which you just so happen to technically share now...

It's... simple. Almost reminds you of a small hotel room, in a way. Bed that's neatly made with the covers tucked in with a professionalism only someone who's done it for years could do. Clean desk with nothing on top. Closed bathroom and closet doors, as well as the door that leads to the rest of the bus being closed. The chair is nestled into a corner of the room, which is... nice.

You think Vergilius might've done this. You... should thank him later.

...

But why would he do this..?

No answers come to your head. You don't know why. You don't think he'd tell you if you did ask.

Oh well.

Your gaze flicks down to the... mementos you chose to keep. Mementos of her.

...

She's dead. You failed to save her.

Tears sting your eyes as you immediately stand up, feeling nauseous. Feeling miserable. You're still stained in blood too. Some of it her's...

...

You shudder, almost crying as you clutch the items to your chest. A whine creeps from your throat. A pathetic, miserable sound you hate.

You just... want to hide. Want to leave. You want to go home. But you don't look human anymore.

Are you even a human anymore?

Then the door slides open, and there stands Dante, arms full of various snacks and a couple bottles of water. The hands of their clock-head tick slightly before returning to their original position, and their non-existent eyes widen upon noticing you awake.

"[Name]!" Dante calls out, completely relieved as they dumped the food on the desk and dart over to you, "You're awake!"

"Uh... yeah..." You mumble back, feeling... numb. It's not a pleasant feeling.

Dante notices your dismay at the events you experienced.

"...are you-?"

"No I am not fine." You snap, "I- I am not feeling good. At all. I- I- I really just..."

You trail off before you can say something that will make them realize you're a fake as your thoughts swirl. Churning with anger and fear and self-loathing.

You wish you never woke up.

You wish you never came here.

You wish you died instead of her.

"...sorry."

"No- no! It's fine, [Name], really." Dante stutters out, "I can't imagine what you're thinking about... everything. It's okay."

No, it's not.

"...mhm."

"..." Dante and you awkwardly stare at each other in a tense silence.

"...I'm sorry, I'm not able to answer your questions with everything I saw today-" "Do you want to shower?"

Both of you pause as you speak at once, staring at eachother in faint embarrassment.

"P- pardon?"

"Shower. I mean, you're kinda..." They trail off, gesturing at your bloodstained form, "...I was wondering if you'd like to clean yourself off. There should be a laundry room too, if I remember what Faust said earlier."

A warm shower actually sounds... really nice.

But...

"I... don't have any other clothes." You mumble, immediately stumbling out a lie, "I- I thought the contract would be- uh- short term, ya know? Like... one day. Not... longer. So... I have nothing else to wear."

Dante thinks. "I have other clothes. Like- other trenchcoats! You could wear that, right?"

"...a trenchcoat with practically nothing underneath?"

At your uncertain query, you swear you see Dante blush.

"I- uh-"

...what other choice do you have?

"...sure, just until my clothes are clean."

"Okay- okay!" Dante nods, clock whirring as they scamper over to grab a trenchcoat and hand it over to you. You shift Yuri's coat into one arm, gently taking the coat. Dante watches you as you hesitantly walk into the bathroom, setting down the clothes and peaking into the shower.

"...Dante! There's no shampoo!"

"...oh- uh-" Dante peeks their head in, "I mean..."

"...I know it's cus ya don't have hair, but..." You trail off, "...I'd like to wash mine."

"Would... normal shampoo even work with your hair?"

"Probably- yes- why?"

"I- who would you even get shampoo from?"

You... didn't think of that.

Your thoughts have mostly been about... what happened. Not thinking about the fact Dante has no reason to have ANY hair products.

"...let me... figure it out." You mumble, mind buzzing.

Who should you ask? Someone who has hair as long as your... new, weirdly long hair. Lets see... there's Ishmael, but... she doesn't like you much from what you can tell...

Maybe Hong Lu? He seems like he'd be fine with it. But... he'd probably ask a lot of questions and drive you near insane. He's a sweet man, but he does appear kinda dense...

...well, there is one person who absolutely likes you and probably will agree.

"...I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"Just going to borrow some shampoo and stuff... probably some conditioner, too. Just 'cause my hair is all smoke-like doesn't mean it can't get tangled, so..." You trail off, wishing you were just... feeling better. You don't know.

You wish you knew exactly what to do and how to get home. And how to be normal again... You hated this.

"Do you want me to come with you? I'm fine with-"

"Oh- oh! Don't worry, I can do this alone." You nod slightly, "Trust me."

"Are you sure?" Dante asks, "I'm seriously fine with-"

"No, no. Trust me. Let me do this alone. Please."

"...okay."

Dante hesitantly steps aside, and you start to go, before realizing those blades are following you.

"...stay." You order them, noticing them drooping slightly, "...I'm just getting shampoo. Stay here and wait."

They tap against eachother, the faint clanging of metal making the wings on your face twitch.

"I'll get the duct tape again."

That makes them relent as they lean themselves against the chair. You sigh, and leave, not noticing the fact Dante's been just... staring at you.

If they had eyelids, they wouldn't be blinking.

Because they're starting to like staring at you the most.

--☆☆☆--

Upon leaving Dante's room, you realize that the bus is structured much differently than your exhausted mind processed the other day. Apparently, the doors just open to whatever room you need them too.

Which was... actually pretty convenient.

And they say this world doesn't have magic... "advanced tech" my ass...

At least that meant the first door you knocked on happened to be Rodya's.

"Mmm? Oh, Squishy~!" Rodya muses, leaning against the door frame with a casual air and a faint grin that almost eases you. "Came here to visit me, hm?"

"Y- yeah. Sorta." You admit, fidgeting as the feathers on your tail ruffle slightly. Rodya notices the haunted look in your eyes, and your bloodstained form, and relaxes.

"Haven't you bathed yet?" She asks you, a hand absent-mindedly tangled in her hair.

"Uhm... no... I was about to, but..." You trail off, unsure of how to word this in the most polite way you can.

Rodya's been nothing but nice to you... isn't it kinda rude to just... ask her for bathing products?

Gah-! Stop second guessing yourself!

"Dante doesn't really got any shampoo in their shower, so-"

"Ooh! You want to use my shower, hm?" Rodya asks, her grin almost brightening as she looks amused, "Well, who am I to say no to someone like you? Come on in~"

Your face flushes (you honestly wonder how your blush looks like since your skin is red) and you stutter. "I- I- I don't-"

"Oh, no need to be nervous~" Rodya coos, pulling you into her room, "Come on, you've been nothing but a sweetheart to me, this is the least I could do~ and think of it as my apology for the little bug incident earlier, hm?"

"I- Rodya! I was just gonna ask to borrow some shampoo and maybe conditioner!" Damn her grip is STRONG! "I- I don't need to use your shower-!"

Rodya pauses, grin faltering. It's back to normal almost immediately, though, and she lets out a disarming giggle. "Oh, really? Should've just started that, hm?"

"Uh... sorry..?" Your voice is uncertain, which is driving you up the wall.

Out of everyone who could've been stuffed into a situation like this... little old you is stuck here. Uncertain. Confused. Alone. And having no idea what you're doing.

Ugh... someone else should've been sent here instead of you... someone who would know what to do.

Someone who could've actually saved Yuri.

Unlike you.

A failure.

"Okay, c'mon then. You can have some of my stuff~ just give it back when you're done, alright?" Rodya asks, tugging you along into the bathroom, grabbing and stuffing some- definitely cheap- hygiene products into your arms. You fumble them, managing to hold onto them on as you nod frantically and yelp out a series of thanks and you scamper out and off into Dante's room again, ignoring Rodya's bemused stare and Dante- flinching as you dart past them and into the bathroom as they step out- and you shut the door behind you.

You press your back to the door, feeling unusually embarrassed.

Was... her tone flirty? Goddammit, you can't recognize when people flirt with you...

You groan, setting down the products Rodya lent you, and look into the mirror weakly.

...

Oh.

You look... different.

Your face isn't human like. You thought it was, but... it clearly isn't. No... its got a smooth, curved, snout rather than a normal face. No nose, but two slit-like nostrils instead. Gold pieces embedded in your skin, specifically between your eyes where your nosebridge would be and under your eyes.

Speaking of your eyes... they're mismatched. One eye has a black scelra and a cat-like pupil, and the other... the one you got shot through... it's a clock. A white clock that's continuously ticking and appears to show the time.

And... your hair is super fucking long, waving out and moving like smoke, especially at the ends. Black in color, almost like it got burnt. It's pulled back with a white string, because you know it'd get in your face if it wasn't and would drive you insane. And four black wings, small and two on each side, are on the sides of your face. Right in front of your ears. And, speaking of your ears, they're pointed and tipped in gold. Clashing against the red skin.

...

This isn't your face. This isn't your skin. This isn't your body. It's a fake you've been stuffed into. Like you're stuck in a skinsuit that isn't yours.

But... now is the best time to familiarize yourself with the body you're trapped in, hm?

You have to shower anyways...

...

You have to shower anyways.

So, you tug off your bloody clothes, dropping them on the ground, and you look over your body.

Skin still red... gold bits embedded in the flesh... those semi-large black wings sticking out from a bit above your tailbone... that giant ass tail... claws on your feet, which also look like a weird mix between talons and normal human feet.

You look over your entirely black claws on your hand. They look slightly like normal fingernails, but long. Pointed. Hell, it almost looks like...

Huh..? Calligraphy pen tips?

Upon closer inspection... yeah. Your claws are shaped to both look like functional claws and calligraphy pens.

...weird. Really, uncomfortably weird. You swore they looked like normal claws earlier...

You sigh, just relieved your... other parts... still look like normal human parts. And your body looks mostly human.

...just shower. Shower and don't think about... it.

...

You need to talk to Gregor when you get the chance.

--☆☆☆--

"So... the laundry detergent is supposedly able to wash blood off on it's own?" You ask, staring skeptically at the little pod you pulled from an ominous metal box.

"So I was told." Hong Lu muses, "Is it not supposed to?"

"I mean, back home, no laundry detergent easily washed out blood." You confess, "I'd have to break out stuff like vinegar and lemon juice on the occasion my cat would meander back in from his breakouts to eviscerate a rodent on my carpet or clothes."

"Really?" He asks, peaking over your shoulder at the mix of your and his laundry. "Now what?"

"Usually I just toss in whatever detergent I use..." You explain, continuing your little impromptu lesson of teaching Hong Lu how to to laundry (he was just contemplating the machine when you came in) as you toss in the detergent. "Then you close the lid, and- based off the size of the load- you adjust the settings and click start... if this washing machine is like any I've dealt with before."

You don't really trust this washing machine... sure, Faust absolutely designed it to be fool-proof, but doesn't mean it may be free from being unnecessarily complicated...

So you just toss in the detergent, shut the lid, double-check the settings look good (they appear to), and silently pray as you press start.

...

You and Hong Lu watch it buzz to life, and you sigh in relief as it appears to be working.

"So... do ya get it?" You ask, looking over at him, "It's mostly just... put in laundry, put in funny pod, make sure settings work for size of laundry, and click start."

"Ah~" Hong Lu smiles, nodding slightly. "Yes, appears rather simple. It's so strange that this is how laundry is done."

Yep... that's the rich boy, alright. Dammit... you wish you researched Canto 8 before you were brought here... all you know is everything up to Canto 3, then bits of information from Canto 4 to Canto 7, and Canto 8... you're in the dark.

Not to mention... you were brought here before they released Canto 9. All you know is that's Ryōshū's Canto.

But after that... absolutely nothing.

So you gotta figure out how to undo 'you being a demon' and figure out how to go home before Canto 8.

"How does a dryer work?"

Hong Lu's question makes you flinch, and you look over.

"Uh... well..." You quickly get your thoughts together. "Well... washer has about an hour to finish. So... how about we let that finish, and then meet back up here, and I show you how the dryer functions?"

"Okay!" Hong Lu says with a bright smile.

He's super whimsical, but... didn't what just happen leave any impact on him?

"...hey... uh... not sure if this is my place to ask but..." You hesitate, before spitting the question out, "Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Hong Lu gives you a confused look, slightly tilting his head.

"I mean..." You advert your eyes, "...don't you feel... regretful? Horrified? Remorseful? Anything like that?"

"...do you?" Hong Lu asks.

You flinch at that, wings poofing up as your head almost snaps back over to stare at him with wide eyes.

Well... you do, but should you reveal to Hong Lu that..?

...

You've done almost nothing but lie since you got here. Some truth would be nice.

"...yeah." You admit, hesitating to elaborate.

"...well," Hong Lu placidly smiles at you. "There's no need for that."

...oh.

You take a deep breath, nodding slightly. "Uhm... okay."

Hong Lu smiles at you (at least it reaches his eyes?). He doesn't move, though.

You silently stare at him. Then, in the corner of your eye, you see a flash of hot pink.

What the..?

Your head snaps to see what it was, but there's nothing.

"What are you looking at?" Hong Lu asks you, peering over your shoulder to see what you're staring at.

"NOTHING-!" You blurt out, "I- I just thought I saw something. Just... my eyes playing tricks on me."

Hong Lu stares at you with a curious look, his mismatched eyes sparkling.

"...I'm gonna go... see the others." You mumble, adjusting Yuri's bag, and quickly leaving before Hong Lu can say to you another word.

You think you hear him thank you, but you pay it no mind.

Because you swear you just got a glimpse of Yuri.

--☆☆☆--

The main passenger cabin of the bus is, thankfully, practically empty. There is Charon and Vergilius, of course, but there's also Faust, Yi Sang, and... Gregor.

...

He didn't get the gas mask, didn't he? No... it's on the bag.

"Uhm... hey." You mumble to him, relieved he's towards the back of the bus. It snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks at you in surprise. Then his gaze relaxes slightly.

"Hey." He calmly replies.

Faust glances up from her tablet, but you ignore her burrowing stare.

"...mind if I sit next to you?" You ask, smiling sheepishly.

"Ah- sure, bud. Sure." He nods at you, and you sit next to him. You notice him move his bug-like arm away, almost... nervous about it.

...

You remember you didn't see that final memory because Yuri never died by the apple.

...

You set the bag in your lap, a tad bit nervous.

"So... how are you doing..?" You ask, looking at him, "After what..."

You trail off. You both know what you're talking about.

"...I'm... fine." He tells you. "...ish."

"Fine-ish." You echo, "Fair enough."

You tap your hands against your thigh idly, being relieved at how long Dante's coats are, because you feel much less self-conscious than if they were short.

Gah- focus...

"...you were... kinda close with her too." You murmur, "Do- do you want something to remember her by..?"

Gregor raises an eyebrow, then recognizes the bag. He tenses, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, and nods slightly. "Sure. Thanks, bud."

You offer him the bag, and he starts trying to take off the gas mask.

Ah, yeah... in-game, that was what he took. Why wouldn't he take it now..? Excluding the fact Aya lived wile Yuri...

...

You help him undo the knot on the gas mask, considering he's only trying to use one hand, and quickly look away once your hands brush against his.

You two silently sit next to one another, the awkward air almost buzzing between you two like flies on rotting meat.

"...I'm sorry." You whisper to him. You can't ignore these feelings. You really can't.

"...for what?" He asks, giving you a look that has a hint of concern.

"For... failing." You admit, "I got her away from that Abnormality, but... I couldn't stop that... that fucking woman..."

You grit your teeth, feeling your snout wrinkle. You half think you're unconsciously bearing your sharp teeth.

"...I just feel like I should've done more."

"Well, you're not alone in that." Gregor tells you, pulling a second cigarette from his pack and offering it to you. "Want one? It'll help you relax."

You hesitate, never really smoking before, but...

"...sure. Though, I will admit, I've never really smoked before, so..." You shrug, taking and awkwardly holding the thing. Sure, lung damage sucks ass, but... eh, this body isn't even yours. What's the harm?

"Eh, don't worry." He tells you, helping you light the thing. "Just let me know if you need any help."

You try taking a drag, slightly choke, and cough as you try to figure out how it works. Gregor pats you on the back as you realize that the cigarette tastes like shit, but maybe the happy chemical takes a moment to kick in, eh?

So you try again, and- while the taste sucks- you don't wheeze and hack out smoke again.

And you two smoke in silence, but it doesn't feel as awkward. It kinda feels... nice to just relax and sit with Gregor in peace.

Of course, by now, your little coughing fit got the attention of everyone else in the front of the bus.

Charon doesn't seem to mind your existence here, as she's focusing on the road again, and Yi Sang seems to be blankly staring at you as if you're an enigma. A weirdly familar enigma, but still...

But Vergilius...

You don't like the look he's giving you. Especially when he stands up and starts approaching you.

You give Gregor a nervous look, and he notices Vergilius approaching with measured steps. His expression mirrors your 'oh shit' look, and he helplessly watches as Vergilius stops next to you.

"Get up." He cooly orders you.

You hesitantly comply, knowing that the Red Gaze is not someone to fuck around with...

You're lucky he hasn't gotten pissed at you enough to torture your ass...

...

Damn you wish you could've met the Red Mist... she's so hot...

"Come." He instructs you, and you nervously follow him, noticing Faust standing up too.

Gregor opens his mouth in protest, but he realizes he can't stop you from leaving and only sighs as he watches you leave.

You wonder why he looks weirdly dismayed, but oh well.

You just trot after Vergilius as he steps out of the main passenger cabin and into the hall, and Faust strides past you and stops next to him. The two stare into you, and you want to shrink into non-existence.

"What- what do ya need..?" You shyly ask, absolutely terrified. Did they figure you out? Are they going to kick you off the bus and leave you to die? Or are you just going to die?

"...Miss Faust." Vergilius prompts, though he's staring at you in disdain. At least his eyes are dim...

"...Faust doesn't know what you are," The silver-haired woman starts, "But she has an offer to extend to you."

"An... offer?" You ask, "I- I can't take it if it breaches my contract..."

"It should not." She replies calmly.

"...what do you... want from me?" You ask, feeling your wings twitch.

"Faust wants you to join Limbus Company."

--☆☆☆--

They don't have a uniform ready for you yet, so they just told you to wear "whatever you have that fits".

That meant, until your laundry was done, little ol' you was still stuck in Dante's spare coat.

Faust mentioned that your assigned uniform would look similar to Dante's, right? Since you were going to officially be the assistant manager of the LCB department...

You can't resist sighing aloud as you stride through the hallway.

Gah... you're like some unfortunate anime protag... in some twisted, fucked up version of isekai. Why couldn't you go to some basic ass fantasy world from the most stereotypical isekai in a still-human body instead of... this?

You literally had to make up a whole ass backstory... now if you fuck any of it up, you're good as dead. Hell, you may be dead if you fuck up. You know how commonplace death is in the City. You saw what happened to...

...why does it only seem like you and Gregor were phased by her death? Did anyone care?

...

You wonder if anyone back home misses you. Has anyone noticed you're gone?

Who was that guy who shot you? What did they want? Was it just a matter of an unfortunate encounter with a serial killer, or was it something more?

You hope your cat's okay.

...

You just wish-

"GAH-!"

A squawk-like sound bursts from your throat as you colide into someone. A flash of blonde fills your vision, and you stumble, tripping over your tail, and fall over backwards.

And, right before you hit the ground, you feel yourself get... caught. A pair of hands under your shoulders, stopping you from slamming into the floor. Though, they aren't there for long, and in a moment you land on the ground.

At least it didn't hurt..? What the heck just happened, though?

You thing you hear what you can best describe as a curse in German, and you look up. Panicking over you is Sinclair, who looks like he's about to cry.

"Sorry- I'm sorry!" He yelps at you, expression contorted in horror like he just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Oh no the sad German boy-!

"Ah-! Don't worry, Sinny! I wasn't payin' attention! It's fine, seriously!" You quickly tell him, trying to stifle your excitement at the chance of having an interaction with one of your favorite characters ever.

You so Limbusrotted you deadass read the source books for extra content when you wanted to read an actual book...

Wish you read more of the actual Limbus Company story, though...

"Sin...ny?"

Oh shit you said your nickname aloud.

"Ack- uh- I- uhm-" A nervous laugh squirms out of your throat, "I think hearing Rodya talk so much may be impacting me... I can call you Sinclair, if you'd rather."

"...no- no-!" Sinclair blurts out, "No- "Sinny" is fine! I just... ah..."

You stand up, shaking your tail to dislodge some of the dust that nestled into your feathers.

"...you went missing for awhile."

...what?

At your confused look, Sinclair flushes.

"Don't you remember? Where we met..?" He asks, "Back when... when we were introduced? I- I never thought I'd see you again, but... I was kind of in shock when I first saw you with Dante... why didn't you-? Where-?"

He stutters, trying to get out whatever he's trying to communicate but wanting to say so much he can't get out what he wants to say.

"...what are you talking about?" You earnestly ask, completely bewildered.

Is there... someone else here like you?

"...don't you... remember?" Sinclair asks, looking strangely heartbroken.

"Remember... what?" You prompt, "I don't understand. What do you mean we met before?"

Never have you seen a German boy look so sad.

"...n- nothing!" He squeaks out, "Nothing at all. Sorry to bother you-!"

"Eh?? Sinny, wait-!" You blurt out, as Sinclair darts away and disappears into his room.

...

You fear you failed social interaction.

...

Though... you have many more questions now.

And yet... no answers.

You sigh, and decide to go check up on your laundry. You can't tell what time it is, considering what you went through with Faust and Vergilius was an uncomfortable mix of interrogation and interview that lasted a relatively long time.

...

...

...

...

...

You flinch at what feels like someone trying to prod into your head. You shake your head frantically, and move a little faster.

Hopefully, you can go home sooner rather than later. Because this absolutely is not your home.

And it never will be.

--☆☆☆--

"So that's the night watch schedules..." You murmur, staring at the little sheet that everyone is crowded around.

"Looks like we're not on there..." Dante tells you. And... yeah, both your names are missing.

If your name isn't on there, that means you're in a room with Dante all night.

Even if Dante is the one you trust the most on the bus... you don't know how to feel about spending a night in a room with them. Alone. Especially when they seem duct-taped to your side.

You couldn't miss how excited they seemed when you met back up with them. And how they haven't stopped standing next to you since.

And... you don't want to feel useless. Because you were useless when you failed to save Yuri.

"Yeah, but..." You shrug, "I managed to get some sleep. I can help keep watch."

Your sudden volunteering gets attention. Surprise, suspicion, and even a bit of flustered panic.

"Do... you really need to?" Dante asks, "If you're officially the assistant manager now, then you need rest."

"And I already got it." You retort. "Anyways, the Sinners need rest too. Especially..."

It may be a good idea to try and lower suspicions about you by being nice...

"Faust."

"Faust sees no need." She responds, though her attention is rapt on you.

"Well, clearly, out of all of us, you clearly know what's going on more than any of us combined. Especially Dante and I. I fear if you're going to continue having to sit us down and explain everything for a long while, you'll want rest. So... please just let me take this shift, even if just this once. I can..." You glance at the sheet again, finding who Faust was partnered with, "Easily do a shift with Gregor, okay? Plus, you mentioned you handle the finances... I'd rather have the person who makes sure we have enough money to eat has proper rest."

Gregor seems to choke slightly on his cigarette upon learning you want to dona shift with him. You pay no mind to it.

"...very well." Faust says with a nod. "Faust will switch places with you."

You nod, feeling relieved. Clearly, you aren't getting anywhere near to Faust's good side, but if she's gone for the night and sleeps, then that guarantees you won't have to interact or deal with her judgemental stare for a night.

And, soon enough, everyone heads off to go back to their rooms as the first two, Don Quixote and Rodya, go off to start the first night shift.

But Dante lingers behind with you.

"Hey... uh..." They hesitate, "Why did you... offer to switch with Faust?"

Because you're a selfish fuck.

"Because I wanted to be nice." The lie flawlessly comes from your mouth, brushing off your tongue with an unfortunate perfection. "Faust may not like me much, but... why not be nicer to her than she is to me? I don't like stooping down to rude people's levels."

"You... didn't need to keep yourself awake to do that, though. You had a long day. You should get some sleep too."

"Look, Dante..." You sigh, "No one else here really trusts me. You may be one of the only one's who doesn't think I'm some... malicious force who's up to something. I want to be kind, yes, because I don't think people here are used to kindness, but I also want to stop being... watched. Eyed as something that people can't have faith in." You sigh, though a half truth feels better than a full lie... "I fear if I don't go out of my way to help, no one will ever treat me as a normal person and not... a threat."

"But..."

You shrug, forcing a smile onto your face. "I don't got the special past that makes someone important like you do, Dante. I gotta fight more than you do, I fear. But it's fine. I can handle it."

"Are you... sure?"

"What other choice do I have?"

--☆☆☆--

You're still in Dante's coat. You'll change into something else when you go to bed. You just... don't want to dirty anything else right now.

Not that you have many clothing options anyways...

The hallway is quiet as you leave Dante's room. You headed out a little before your shift starts. Mostly because Dante kept trying to convince you to sleep. Said they could do the shift for you, if needed.

You left before they did it themselves. They need the sleep more than you do, anyways.

Plus... you fear that if you sleep, all you'll see is her.

Peering out into the main cabin, you see Ishmael and Yi Sang. Neither are talking, just silently staring out into the darkness. Yi Sang seems lost in thought, but Ishmael has a focus in her stare.

One you know most likely stems from her yearning to kill Ahab.

"Any issues?" You ask, causing the two to pause and look back.

"No." Ishmael answers quickly, "No one has approached the bus, so far."

"Great." You murmur, approaching. "You guys wanna head to bed now?"

"Yes." Is all Ishmael says as she stands up, and immediately strides past you as she goes. She brushes against you, but neither of you stumble because of it, so it's not something you focus on.

She leaves, and you and Yi Sang awkwardly exists in one another's vicinity.

"...how have you been faring?" He asks you suddenly. His tone also seems... almost warmer, in a sense.

Isn't he severely depressed before Canto 4? If you really thought about it, he even seems to be smiling.

"I mean... life could be better, but it could be worse too." You admit. Though he doesn't look away, so you figure you should say more. "It's nice to chat with you."

"It has been awhile." He says, and you wonder what he means.

Neither of you really... spoke before...

Then there is silence between you again.

"...your wings are in need of preening." He notes, staring at those wings on your hips.

"Ah- uh- so they are." You reply, a little flustered because you did not notice that. "Haha... I've never been great about tending to my wings."

"..." Yi Sang is quiet, and you remember his thing with wings and birds...

Ah- maybe that's why he's interested in you..?

"Even if they cannot give you flight, you should care for them." He tells you, "If you like, I could assist you with them."

"Uh- sure! Maybe tomorrow though..?" You squawk out, "You oughta sleep. It's healthy for you."

"...very well." He says with a nod, "See you in the morning, my friend."

And he leaves with quiet steps.

Why did he seem much more familiar with you than you were with him..?

You manage to push these thoughts aside as Gregor arrives.

"Hey bud..." He says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his human hand.

"Got some sleep before this?"

"Yep." He admits, and heads over to you to sit before you do. You sit next to him.

He offers you another cigarette. You politely decline, wanting to avoid an addiction.

Sure, the one you had earlier calmed you down... but you're gonna need to set limits. You don't know if an addiction will carry over to your real body. You don't wanna risk it.

He doesn't press you, thankfully. Just shrugs and looks out the window.

There's a bit of small talk between you too, and then...

"...hey, Gregor?"

"Mhm?"

"Is it my fault she's dead?"

Gregor freezes at that, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and he looks at you. You don't hide how much her death shook you.

"Are you talking about Yuri?"

"Y- yeah." You confess, feeling like... everything around you is squirming like the maggots of that damn Abnormality... "I... I did everything I could. When that Abnormality tried to attack us, I managed to get her out of the way. I thought she would be okay. I swore she would be okay. And then... then..."

Then that woman came.

The sound of a gunshot. The pause. Then Yuri's collapse. That weak smile, her final words, and the dimming of her eyes. How her blood staines your red skin. Crimson liquid sinking into your scarlet flesh and disappearing. How her smile doesn't leave.

All you can see are her dead eyes and that fucking smile.

"Hey. Hey. I'm just as at fault for this at you are. Fuck... I'm more at fault." Gregor tenses, "I saw her. I saw her coming and I didn't say anything because I wanted to believe what happened wouldn't be a possibility. And I was wrong. If I just... said something, Yuri would be alive."

..?

"Could we even have moved in time?" You ask.

"I don't know. I want to think you could've, though."

He also thinks he's to blame..?

"...you were close with her too, huh?"

"Yeah." He admits, "She... reminded me of my sister."

...

"...so we both think ourselves are to blame." You mumble, "...how about we just... both take the blame? That way, we can both feel like we're less at fault. Both try and feel less... haunted."

"..." Gregor glances over at you, and you see him smile slightly. "...sure. Might be the best for the both of us."

You nod. And then, the air feels less... tense, in a sense. Sure, you feel like a failure for what happened. Like a useless mistake. A fake. A liar. But... at least there's someone else on this bus who can understand half of what you feel.

There's more idle chatter. And then Gregor falls silent, staring outside with a glazed over look.

You get it. You really do.

"Hey, Gregor?" You tilt your head at his silence. "Gregor?"

You gently nudge him. He jolts, but seems lost in his head.

Right... he never really got to finish his Canto. Even in the main game, he never did. But still... you want to try and help him.

"Gregor?" You reach out again, ruffling his hair this time in an attempt to get him to look over at you.

It makes his breath hitch, and then there's a flash of brown, and a sharp pain in your non-dominant arm.

A choked grunt forces itself out of your throat, and you realize there's a gash in your arm, oozing some almost neon green liquid, with the same substance staining Gregor's claw.

Shit- you startled him-!

You look back at said bug-limbed man, who's violently shaking with a glazed over look. Shallow breaths... focused on something else...

...he's having a mental breakdown. You can recognize that. Probably because of PTSD you didn't think he had.

Maybe you could just... let him calm down on his own? Considering you probably caused this by accident, and don't want to make it worse...

...shit, Carmen.

Okay, you need to fix this. Before a Distortion happens.

"Gregor..?" You quietly tell him, earning no response. "Gregor, look at me."

He doesn't.

"Gregor... look at me. Now."

That gets him to angle his head to stare at you. He's still shaking.

"Wherever you think you are, you aren't. You are on Mephistopheles, with Limbus Company, and far away from anyone who can hurt you. It may not feel like it, but you are safe." You wish you were better at comforting people, fuck... "Whoever hurt you isn't here. And they will never be here. I promise you that."

"Limbus Company..." He quietly echoes.

"Look at me." You gently encourage, "Just... focus on me. And the seat you're on. Wherever you feel like you are, those things wouldn't be there, right? You're okay. Just believe me on this, you are safe."

He seems to be calming down...

Fuck... your arm hurts.

"Sorry..." You tell him, "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel so... afraid. Honestly, I don't know what I even did... but still, I'm at fault. And I'm sorry."

"You..." Gregor starts to say, "You're not..."

He trails off when he notices the wound on your arm.

"...shit." His breath hitches, "Shit! Shit- I didn't- I didn't mean-"

"No- no-!" You quickly dissuade him, "No- it's fine. The cut isn't even that deep. It'll heal. Everything's okay."

"I hurt you." He chokes out, "I hurt you."

"And I accidentally triggered a mental breakdown in you so... I think we're even." You reply, "You didn't mean to, anyways. It was... an accident based on instinct. Not something malicious."

"..." Gregor doesn't respond for a moment. He just stares at his bug-like arm in disgust.

"...I don't hate your arm." You suddenly confess, "And I don't think it meant to hurt me either. It just... panicked and reacted in the only way it could. Like an abused dog."

"..." He glances back over at you. "You're... the first one to ever say that. And I'm not sure you're all there if you are."

"...uhm..." You nod slowly, and you both stare at the arm. "My point is... the arm isn't exactly you, right?"

"No..?"

"It's more like... what... acting based off your instincts?"

"Yeah..?"

"So..." You click your tongue, "If you panic, it panics. And if it only knows violence, that's the only way it's going to react."

Gregor seems hesitant to believe your words.

You need to prove it to him, huh..?

"Can I touch your arm?"

Gregor flinches, immediately pulling his arm as far away from you as he can manage. "No! Are you insane? The thing just stabbed you, and you want to touch it?"

"I'm trying to prove a point..." You reply, "And just trust me on this. Just this once."

He hesitates, but you aren't deterred. And, eventually, he gives in. Very slowly, the bug arm moves closer, but stops before making contact with you. Gregor's expression is apprehensive, and he draws back slightly when you reach out.

You pause at that, glancing up with a silent question.

Hesitance, and then a slight nod from him. A reassurance that you may continue.

So you gently place your hand on the limb. Immediately, you realize it's smooth. There's some hairs, yes, but the limb is covered in a smooth keratin. It's surprisingly warm, though. Much warmer than any bug you've touched.

You see the cockroach resemblance... but there's definitely some other bugs or insect-like creatures mixed in with the creation of the limb. Namely mantis with how sharp the underside of the lower limb is...

Hermann and her weird bug obsession... what's even the context behind it? Why would she want to make a biological weapon bug-like?

Outside of her fucked up personality, that is...

Gregor's breath is a bit shaky, but you can't place if it's out of fear or... something else.

When he notices you're glancing at his expression, he immediately adverts his gaze.

You don't press further about it.

Must be a strange sensation to have someone who isn't judging him for this...

Then you get to the blood that stains it. Your blood.

But why is it green? You swore you vomited up red blood earlier...

Yes... you did, actually. Your blood was red. And it couldn't have been stomach acid. It was too metalic.

Nor is this that black sludge. This blood actually kind of looks like Enkephalin...

But why is your blood green? When did it turn to this color?

What could this even mean..?

"Aren't you... creeped out?" Gregor hesitantly asks.

A little.

"No." The word comes from your mouth with ease. "Not really... it doesn't seem that "creepy" to me, honestly. It's almost... cute, in a way."

The limb twitches, but it doesn't move to attack. In fact, it almost seems... happy?

"Ha... that's a first." Gregor says, relaxing slightly. "You're weird, bud."

"I mean... we're both weird. Both of us got some features that get people to stare." You shrug, but don't pull your hand off the limb. "But it isn't a bad thing, is it? We're not evil. Just... some people with some unfortunate things in the eyes of society."

"..." Gregor doesn't reply, but he smiles. It's faint, but there.

Your arm still hurts. But... you can ignore it. Just for now.

Then, the limb moves. Though... slowly. As if reaching out on its own.

Immediately, Gregor panics a bit and immediately tries to pull his arm away from you.

"Wait- wait-!" You press your hand on the limb, "Wait... don't. It's not attacking. It's okay."

Gregor hesitates, then stops resisting. The limb continues to move, pressing itself against your right wing and entangling itself in your hair.

Both of you stare at the limb in confusion.

"...it's reacting to physical affection well." You note. "That's pretty good, not gonna lie."

Gregor blushes slightly and looks away, and you giggle quietly.

It's kinda cute...

Then you hear the door open, and your head cranes over as the wings on your head twitch. Instinctively, you pull away from Gregor, getting the feeling that someone walking in and seeing you touching his bug-arm as it's pressed against you would be rather damaging to your current authority... or lack thereof.

Both Gregor and you awkwardly stare at Outis and Meursault as they walk in. The two just stare back, but Outis immediately gets a serious look the moment she notices the comically large bleeding gash on your arm.

"What happened?" She almost barks out, her expression contorted into a sort of... disdain, in a sense.

"Uh..." Okay... if Gregor gets caught as having accidentally ripped a small chunk out of your arm, no amount of lying will save his ass... "Accident."

"What kind of accident?"

She has a no-nonsense look...

"..." You silently look at Gregor, who looks like he's about to admit to it.

"I-"

"I fell." You immediately jump in, "Gregor tried to catch me... accidentally scratched me a bit. I'm fine, it's not that deep."

Gregor gives you a surprised look at your lie, and Outis doesn't seem to believe you at all. Meursault doesn't give you any read on his emotions right now. Luckily for you, though, Outis seems more focused on the wound.

"Why haven't you tended to it?" She asks, storming over and grabbing your arm to look over the wound herself. Gregor quickly pulls his bug-like limb away, almost embarrassed.

"Cus it's not that bad..?" You mumble, a little startled by the effort she's putting into this.

"Not that bad?" Outis echoes in disbelief. "This needs immediate tending to! Are you insane, private?! Wounds like this need immediate care. Do you want an infection? You have a job, and that requires you in top-form! You cannot be revived and thus any and all injuries must be treated with care!"

She mutters about you being an idiot, but you're surprised at how... spirited she seems about your physical health... a complete change from her generally snide comments...

"Do we have any medical equipment?" She suddenly asks.

"I saw a medkit up at the front of the bus." You confess, and immediately Outis barks an order at Meursault to go get it. He silently nods and complies.

"Take your arm out of the sleeve." Outis orders you, and you hesitantly comply. You do what you can to make sure the jacket is still covering as much of your body as you can manage.

"Is there anything you need me to do..?" Gregor asks. He clearly still feels at fault for this.

"Stay out of this." Outis orders him, before Meursault returns with the medkit. You awkwardly sit there as Outis disinfects- which hurts- and binds the wound.

"You're lucky it's shallow enough to not require stitches." She angrily tells you. "This better not happen again."

"There's no plans in place for that..." You mumble, a little hesitant and confused. Why does she care so much? Solely because you're the new assistant manager?

"Did any other notable events occur?" Outis asks. Or... more like orders an answer.

"No. Nothing else happened." Gregor answers, "We're in the clear."

Outis nods. "Go to bed. Both of you."

"Got it..." You mumble, pulling your arm back into the sleeve.

Damn... Dante's spare coat's damaged. Hopefully, you get the chance to sew it up soon... may need a patch, though.

Hopefully the damage isn't too bad...

And you and Gregor leave, leaving Outis and Meursault to handle the next shift.

Now that the adrenaline wore off from the accidental attack... fuck, you're exhausted and in pain. Oh well... could be worse. You could be dead.

Like... her.

...

"Hey... bud." Gregor suddenly speaks up, "Why'dya... lie?"

"Oh- uh-" First call out, huh? "...well... I got the feeling Outis would rip you a new one if you admitted to what happened. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't get yelled at and feel like shit before you get some sleep, ya know? I know lying is a shitty thing to do, but... I just wanted to make sure everything was fine. Because every other part of today... wasn't."

Both of you stand there in silence.

"Got it." He eventually says, sighing. "Thanks, bud. See ya in the morning, eh?"

"Sleep well." You reply, and both of you go your separate ways.

Immediately, upon walking into Dante's room, you realize the lights are on. And Dante is sitting on the bed, fidgeting with their hands impatiently.

"[Name]!" They blurt out upon seeing you walking in and closing the door, immediately standing up. "Are you alright? I..."

They trail off upon seeing the bandage and the hole in your jacket. "What happened? What- what happened?!"

"Accident. It's fine." You answer, trying to deter their panic. "I'll be better soon. Trust me."

Dante keeps sputtering, absolutely panicking. You just hold up your hands. "Seriously! If I get some rest, I'll be better. Calm down... please just... take a deep breath and calm down."

They barely relax. "Are... you sure?"

"Certain." You answer. "Look... uhm... why are you still up? I thought I said you ought to sleep..?"

"I- I was worried..." They confess. "But- are- will-"

"Dante, I'm going to be okay. And honestly, I wanna sleep." You confess, "I'm sorry for making you worry, but it'll be fine. Please just... calm down... and I think I'm going to just change into some of my other clothes and clock out, mkay?"

"...there's toiletries for you in the bathroom if you need it." Dante tells you after a moment. They're still worried.

"Thank you." You say, "And... you don't need to be so anxious about my health. My job is to keep you safe, not the other way around."

Dante doesn't respond, but just weakly nods. They watch as you go over and go to grab your original clothes you sort of... spawned with..? You aren't sure. Anyways, you go to grab them and push down the blades as they seem to tweak out.

So many people are worried about you... haven't you known them all for a day..? You're a lot more familiar with them than they are you...

Then you pause upon seeing Yuri's jacket.

...

You grab that instead of your other top. You say nothing as you go to the bathroom and close the door behind you.

You press your back to the door, holding the jacket to your chest as you shake.

If you wear this... you remember her, in a way. Like she's closer to you.

So you change into it, and then just... stare into the mirror for a moment.

This isn't you. This isn't your body. And you don't know how to fix it.

You sigh, and notice the reflection of a golden string sticking out of your head in the mirror.

A string of life you've seen on everyone except Dante... but yours looks... thicker?

Yeah... it's ever so slightly thicker than compared to others. Almost barely noticable.

And... it's branching off..?

You squint, noticing part of the string pointing out from your head. Where it goes is just out of view of the mirror.

And out of curiosity, you look.

...

Oh my god...

All air is gone from your lungs. Your knees are weak. Your wings are tense.

You're in shock. A silent, swirling shock you only had upon realizing your situation when you first woke up like this.

Because, standing in front of you... physically there and smiling...

Is Yuri.

--☆☆☆--

Gregor sighs. "Why is it always the ones in front that go first… I’m sick of taking any sort of lead now. I heard you were gonna be our boss, or… yeah, our manager."

"Manager?"

"Yep, which is why I was real curious to meet you, and… Uhrm… Hmm, tsk. Forming the right sentences is tough work." He thinks for a moment, "Dunno what you did with your old head or how you got that fella following you around, but I guess everyone has their story. I’m Gregor. We’re in this together, Manager Bud."

Rodion, or Rodya scoffs. "Greg! They aren’t just your “bud” or “pal”~ You’re talking to the person who’ll make us filthy rich!"

Gregor gives her an incredulous look. "Greg..?"

"Rich? What's that about?" Dante asks, looking at you for answers. You shrug, playing clueless near perfectly.

"Let’s see, what’s better… Dante! Don’t mind me if I call you by name. You can call me Rodya~" She grins, "I think there’s a… well, good reason you became our manager. I’m sure. You used to be a big deal back in the Nest, right? When your old habits start coming back, we’ll be that much closer to rolling in the dough… Fuhu…"

Dante slowly turns their head to you, silently asking you if you have any clue what she's talking about. You shake your head, not sure yourself. And you know the lore better than he does!

"Oh gosh, look at me keeping on." Rodya looks over at Sinclair, motioning him to speak. "Hey, kid! It’s your turn next!"

"Good day..." He nervously says, looking like a fish out of water.

"Aw, boring~" Rodya hums, "That's it?"

"Oh! I am Sinclair…" You sense Dante's grimace and their uncertainty that Sinclair is here willingly, but Sinclair has no clue as he keeps talking, "…I- Is there anything else I need to say? I’ve never worked for a company before…"

You give Sinclair your best encouraging smile and thumbs up, trying to comfort the poor guy.

"Well, you’ll learn the ropes in the coming days." Rodya says, before turning her attention to the next Sinner, "‘Kay then, how about you next, nerdy pal!"

"I am Yi Sang." Is all he says.

"...That's it?" Dante asks.

"Mhm. No smoke or mirrors."

Dante waits for something else, and you sheepishly grin as you look at the fella. "Hey, at least he's straightforward! That's always helpful, eh?"

Dante nods slowly, and you realize out of everyone here, Dante has the most trust in you. Why? You aren't sure. They just do. And it's definitely only because of your lies...

"Haaa… I can’t believe you people. Aren’t proper introductions the first step to being a member of society?" A certain redhead says (yeah her hair is orange but gingers are called 'redheads' aren't they?), "Call me Ishmael, if you please. I heard you glued our bodies back together from pieces. I look forward to working with you."

She nods her head, and you hope you are able to excuse yourself and leave before Canto 5. God only knows how you'll behave around Ahab... and god only knows how Ishmael will react to that. You do not want to see Ishmael's reactions.

"Sorry to disappoint, ‘cause I don’t care too much for fitting in. Name’s Heathcliff. Used to be a professional wrecker—for property and people alike." The man says, looking rather apathetic in your opinion. "Not under anyone’s orders, mind you. I only did it to buggers that got on my nerves. So you’d better watch it. I’m deathly allergic to cocky gaffers who think they can boss me around."

He is so fucking Bristish...

Dante nods slowly, surprised at Heathcliff's reaction. You pat them gently on the shoulder in a "don't worry he's just crazy" kind of way.

"‘Tis my turn to speak! I am Don Quixote!" The girl- you must admit you thought was a guy since you got lazy and barely skimmed through her intro slide thing- proudly declares, "I am a Fixer who shall sprint for the dream side by side. A pleasure to have thee."

"A Fixer…? That definitely feels like a term I used to know…" Dante murmurs, curious.

"I don't know what it is..." You flawlessly lie, playing the clueless role perfectly.

Don's eyes sparkle as she looks excited to explain what it could be. "Dost thou wish to know what it is? I can answer thy question! Fixers are protectors of the City!"

"Oh, really?" You ask, tilting your head. "That's neat, thanks for telling me!"

She grins at you, clearly excited to have someone receptive to her. "Ah! Perchance thou mayst not know anything about the City! ‘Tis-"

Vergilius- who silently walked over to her- slaps a hand over her face, glowering at the poor girl. "I believe I said this was for brief introductions."

Don groans, grimacing as Vergilius pulls away. "Don’t make me say it twice. Next."

"My name’s Hong Lu. I hope we can get along well." The next Sinner introduces himself with a warm smile, and you brace yourself for all sorts of 'stupid' questions coming from him. "Wow, and look at you! Isn’t that a fascinating head there? A popular model these days, I suppose?"

He looks at you next, his heterochromatic eyes glittering in curiosity. "And you! Is the red skin natural?"

"I- yes-?" You stutter out, as Dante reacts similarly, "No, this isn’t that kind of-"

"It’s not of my interest, though." Hong Lu interrupts casually, calmly resuming ignoring your and Dante's existence from where he sits with a smile.

Welp... you know he means nothing mean by it, but still... ouch...

"…The hell’s wrong with your attitude?" Heathcliff asks, standing up with every intention to go beat the shit out of Hong Lu. You know it's not on anyone's behalf, he's just clearly annoyed by Hong Lu's reactions.

But with your frantic head shakes and Vergilius' glare, Heathcliff grumbles and sits back down, muttering to himself.

"It’s Ryōshū." The next Sinner says calmly, "Shūre’s nice to meet ya."

She pauses to let the pun set in, and you quietly giggle out of a mix of nerves, not wanting to upset Ryōshū, and genuine amusement. You have a taste for bad puns.

Dante in unphased, but you note the glimmer of approval in Ryōshū's eyes directed at you. Welp, if Ryōshū likes you, you are significantly safer.

"Meursault. Please refer to me as such." The next Sinner says, his face stoic.

"You're pretty polite." Dante notes.

He's French, but this is a French person you are NOT making fun of.

"This isn’t anything special. I’m simply behaving normally."

"I’m almost touched. Merci."

Oh yeah, Dante canonically knows French and... can recognize French people on sight and sight alone... Huh.

Outis silently stared at Dante, almost digging into them with just her eyes. She's done the same to you... multiple times... so you immediately understand Dante's immediate nervousness at her scrutinizing them.

"I..." She starts to croak out, clearly trying to figure out what to say as Dante starts to bow their head.

Well... she is awfully imposing...

But she immediately stops Dante with a motion of her hand. "Please, I would never make my manager grovel before me. My name is Outis. I would like to apologize for my rudeness earlier."

That apology is clearly not directed at you...

"Rudeness..?"

"Haha, oh, please. Your generosity is a humbling sight." She says with a vague smile, "I knew at first glance that you have what it takes to lead us."

"…Huh? Sorry?" Dante asks, looking at you for answers. You don't have them.

"While most humans cause noise and friction as a result of confrontation… Some are able to reap mutual benefit from coming head-to-head." She says, "It could be compared to the relationship between a blade and a whetstone. I vow to serve you with unrivaled devotion, Executive Manager. My blade is yours to wield."

You give Outis a deadpan look that reads "kissass..." as Dante nods slowly yet approvingly at her. "Th- That’s reassuring… Thanks."

"I’m amazed at how you can sing such bold-faced high praise not too long after calling them a “miserably writhing wretch”." Ishmael suddenly points out, earning an annoyed look from Outis as Dante visibly winces. You pat them on the shoulder as an attempt of comfort.

"It seems I am the last. Faust is the name." The silver-haired Sinner says calmly, "A genius with whom you’re lucky to cross paths even once in your life."

"Mhm..." Dante says, clearly skeptical.

You rub the back of your head, knowing very well that Faust is... sorta correct..?

"Sounds like you aren’t convinced, Dante, while your demon is." She notes, "Well, it’s fine. You’ll come to learn, all in due time."

"Learn what..?"

"That Faust is indeed a brilliant mind." She casually replies, "When a proverbial tree falls, the fact of its sound cannot become truth when the outside observer fails to recognize it."

"Okay..." Dante says, uncertain of anything Faust says.

Then everyone looks at you.

"M- me?" You ask, surprised.

"Yes. You." Vergilius calmly tells you, and everyone waits for you to speak.

You hesitate, but take a breath. "...very well. My name is [Name]. I'm not from this world, that much is clear... and, Dante, you brought me here. Think of me as your... assistant, per say."

"Assistant?"

"I'm here to protect and serve you. Specifically, I'm here to ensure you do not die until you successfully retrieve your head. Upon your head being gathered, I will depart from this world and to my own." You say, explaining the false story the others got pieces of. "And, with that, my contract with you resulted in certain... benefits. Such as the blades that seem to fly."

"And why are they-?"

"I duct taped them to the window because they tried to stab Vergilius." You calmly explain, since you... did do that earlier with the duct tape you happened to have. "They are in time out because I'm fairly certain they're sentient. They know what they did wrong."

"I-"

"I know it sounds insane, but trust me Dante." You say, "Or- Summoner. Uhm- which do you prefer me to call you..?"

"Dante works fine..." They tell you, staring at the blades taped to the window with a comical amount of duct tape. "So... you're like the Assistant Manager if I'm the Manager?"

"Unoffical, but... the term works, yes." You say, looking at Vergilius. "Happy?"

"Satisfied." He corrects, "That’s enough greetings. Dante, let me explain your new occupation."

"You mean… as the manager?" They ask. You quickly translate for Vergilius before Faust can, wanting to play your made-up 'assistant' role well.

"That’s correct, Executive Manager Dante. You will embark on a trip to the Inferno with the twelve Sinners who’ve just introduced themselves." He glances at you, "And your demon."

"...if you don't call me by my name, I'll call you 'Vergie'." You warn him.

His eyes narrow and the red glow intensifies. It's a silent warning, but you are too annoyed to care.

"Try me, Vergilius. I dare you."

"Okay, okay, calm down..." Dante tells you, trying to ease you from bickering with Vergilius. "But... the Inferno?"

"...they're curious about the Inferno." You translate, trying to relax your tense body.

"Hmm… How about this: Treasure awaits at the end of the road… Would that suffice?" Vergilius explains dismissively.

"I don’t… You mean I used to be a treasure hunter or something?" Dante asks, curious.

"I... don't think so..?" You guess, looking at Vergilius to translate before-

"Neither seems to get you at all." Faust notes calmly.

"I did not ask for your understanding, Dante. Nor was this a question of your willingness." He says, and you have a feeling there is going to be a fist-fight between you two at some point. "You’ll have to listen to me if you want to reclaim your memories and original head."

"I mean… I do want them back, but…" Dante thinks, clearly apprehensive.

In your made-up lore, you're just here for a job... so...

"They’re hesitant." Faust notes.

"Ms. Faust, what will we do if Dante keeps on refusing to cooperate? This was not a scenario we anticipated."

"Preposterous. Faust anticipates every possibility." Faust answers bluntly, "Dante, once you’ve completed all your missions… You’ll be able to engrave the Aspect. I can promise you that."

Immediately, Dante begins nodding with utmost certainty. You just shrug and know that you're always on Dante's side no matter what.

"See there? They’re nodding." Faust points out.

"Good. Then we can continue." Vergilius says, "By the way, Charon, why isn’t the bus moving? Were you dozing off?"

You barely noticed the bus ceased moving.

"A bus driver only snoozes at rest spots, Verg." Charon calmly replies, "Weirdos were hanging around in front of Mephi."

"I told you, Charon. If anything happens with the bus, you’ve got to let me know right away." Vergilius says, pinching his nose out of frustration.

"Mephi? Who’s that?" Dante asks, curious.

"Mephistopheles. The name of this bus and the engine that runs it." Faust explains, "…And Faust’s magnum opus cordis."

"An ideal ferryboat to bear us across the Inferno." Vergilius adds, "Wouldn’t you agree, Dante?"

Dante just looks out the window, and you glance back at the other Sinners.

"Looks like they’re just another pack of dirty Rats living in the Backstreets." Vergilius suddenly says about the people outside, immediately getting your attention, "This is just the right time, Dante. They should make perfect targets for practicing your command."

"Dante, I skipped over many details during our first battle. We were short on time, after all." Faust says, "However, we’ll be slaughtered frequently if no improvements are made to your strategy. And in turn, you’ll have to endure senseless pain over and over again to revive us."

"Pain… Revive? You mean, what happened earlier was…"

"Yes, we were brought back to life because you “turned back the clock”." Faust says with a nod.

"I don’t believe that much is necessary, Ms. Faust." Vergilius interjects, "Save the chatter for later. Sinners, off the bus. You too, de- ...[Name]."

...welp, at least he's actually calling you by your damn name...

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Gregor sighs. "Why is it always the ones in front that go first… I’m sick of taking any sort of lead now. I heard you were gonna be our boss, or… yeah, our manager."

"Manager?"

"Yep, which is why I was real curious to meet you, and… Uhrm… Hmm, tsk. Forming the right sentences is tough work." He thinks for a moment, "Dunno what you did with your old head or how you got that fella following you around, but I guess everyone has their story. I’m Gregor. We’re in this together, Manager Bud."

Rodion, or Rodya scoffs. "Greg! They aren’t just your “bud” or “pal”~ You’re talking to the person who’ll make us filthy rich!"

Gregor gives her an incredulous look. "Greg..?"

"Rich? What's that about?" Dante asks, looking at you for answers. You shrug, playing clueless near perfectly.

"Let’s see, what’s better… Dante! Don’t mind me if I call you by name. You can call me Rodya~" She grins, "I think there’s a… well, good reason you became our manager. I’m sure. You used to be a big deal back in the Nest, right? When your old habits start coming back, we’ll be that much closer to rolling in the dough… Fuhu…"

Dante slowly turns their head to you, silently asking you if you have any clue what she's talking about. You shake your head, not sure yourself. And you know the lore better than he does!

"Oh gosh, look at me keeping on." Rodya looks over at Sinclair, motioning him to speak. "Hey, kid! It’s your turn next!"

"Good day..." He nervously says, looking like a fish out of water.

"Aw, boring~" Rodya hums, "That's it?"

"Oh! I am Sinclair…" You sense Dante's grimace and their uncertainty that Sinclair is here willingly, but Sinclair has no clue as he keeps talking, "…I- Is there anything else I need to say? I’ve never worked for a company before…"

You give Sinclair your best encouraging smile and thumbs up, trying to comfort the poor guy.

"Well, you’ll learn the ropes in the coming days." Rodya says, before turning her attention to the next Sinner, "‘Kay then, how about you next, nerdy pal!"

"I am Yi Sang." Is all he says.

"...That's it?" Dante asks.

"Mhm. No smoke or mirrors."

Dante waits for something else, and you sheepishly grin as you look at the fella. "Hey, at least he's straightforward! That's always helpful, eh?"

Dante nods slowly, and you realize out of everyone here, Dante has the most trust in you. Why? You aren't sure. They just do. And it's definitely only because of your lies...

"Haaa… I can’t believe you people. Aren’t proper introductions the first step to being a member of society?" A certain redhead says (yeah her hair is orange but gingers are called 'redheads' aren't they?), "Call me Ishmael, if you please. I heard you glued our bodies back together from pieces. I look forward to working with you."

She nods her head, and you hope you are able to excuse yourself and leave before Canto 5. God only knows how you'll behave around Ahab... and god only knows how Ishmael will react to that. You do not want to see Ishmael's reactions.

"Sorry to disappoint, ‘cause I don’t care too much for fitting in. Name’s Heathcliff. Used to be a professional wrecker—for property and people alike." The man says, looking rather apathetic in your opinion. "Not under anyone’s orders, mind you. I only did it to buggers that got on my nerves. So you’d better watch it. I’m deathly allergic to cocky gaffers who think they can boss me around."

He is so fucking Bristish...

Dante nods slowly, surprised at Heathcliff's reaction. You pat them gently on the shoulder in a "don't worry he's just crazy" kind of way.

"‘Tis my turn to speak! I am Don Quixote!" The girl- you must admit you thought was a guy since you got lazy and barely skimmed through her intro slide thing- proudly declares, "I am a Fixer who shall sprint for the dream side by side. A pleasure to have thee."

"A Fixer…? That definitely feels like a term I used to know…" Dante murmurs, curious.

"I don't know what it is..." You flawlessly lie, playing the clueless role perfectly.

Don's eyes sparkle as she looks excited to explain what it could be. "Dost thou wish to know what it is? I can answer thy question! Fixers are protectors of the City!"

"Oh, really?" You ask, tilting your head. "That's neat, thanks for telling me!"

She grins at you, clearly excited to have someone receptive to her. "Ah! Perchance thou mayst not know anything about the City! ‘Tis-"

Vergilius- who silently walked over to her- slaps a hand over her face, glowering at the poor girl. "I believe I said this was for brief introductions."

Don groans, grimacing as Vergilius pulls away. "Don’t make me say it twice. Next."

"My name’s Hong Lu. I hope we can get along well." The next Sinner introduces himself with a warm smile, and you brace yourself for all sorts of 'stupid' questions coming from him. "Wow, and look at you! Isn’t that a fascinating head there? A popular model these days, I suppose?"

He looks at you next, his heterochromatic eyes glittering in curiosity. "And you! Is the red skin natural?"

"I- yes-?" You stutter out, as Dante reacts similarly, "No, this isn’t that kind of-"

"It’s not of my interest, though." Hong Lu interrupts casually, calmly resuming ignoring your and Dante's existence from where he sits with a smile.

Welp... you know he means nothing mean by it, but still... ouch...

"…The hell’s wrong with your attitude?" Heathcliff asks, standing up with every intention to go beat the shit out of Hong Lu. You know it's not on anyone's behalf, he's just clearly annoyed by Hong Lu's reactions.

But with your frantic head shakes and Vergilius' glare, Heathcliff grumbles and sits back down, muttering to himself.

"It’s Ryōshū." The next Sinner says calmly, "Shūre’s nice to meet ya."

She pauses to let the pun set in, and you quietly giggle out of a mix of nerves, not wanting to upset Ryōshū, and genuine amusement. You have a taste for bad puns.

Dante in unphased, but you note the glimmer of approval in Ryōshū's eyes directed at you. Welp, if Ryōshū likes you, you are significantly safer.

"Meursault. Please refer to me as such." The next Sinner says, his face stoic.

"You're pretty polite." Dante notes.

He's French, but this is a French person you are NOT making fun of.

"This isn’t anything special. I’m simply behaving normally."

"I’m almost touched. Merci."

Oh yeah, Dante canonically knows French and... can recognize French people on sight and sight alone... Huh.

Outis silently stared at Dante, almost digging into them with just her eyes. She's done the same to you... multiple times... so you immediately understand Dante's immediate nervousness at her scrutinizing them.

"I..." She starts to croak out, clearly trying to figure out what to say as Dante starts to bow their head.

Well... she is awfully imposing...

But she immediately stops Dante with a motion of her hand. "Please, I would never make my manager grovel before me. My name is Outis. I would like to apologize for my rudeness earlier."

That apology is clearly not directed at you...

"Rudeness..?"

"Haha, oh, please. Your generosity is a humbling sight." She says with a vague smile, "I knew at first glance that you have what it takes to lead us."

"…Huh? Sorry?" Dante asks, looking at you for answers. You don't have them.

"While most humans cause noise and friction as a result of confrontation… Some are able to reap mutual benefit from coming head-to-head." She says, "It could be compared to the relationship between a blade and a whetstone. I vow to serve you with unrivaled devotion, Executive Manager. My blade is yours to wield."

You give Outis a deadpan look that reads "kissass..." as Dante nods slowly yet approvingly at her. "Th- That’s reassuring… Thanks."

"I’m amazed at how you can sing such bold-faced high praise not too long after calling them a “miserably writhing wretch”." Ishmael suddenly points out, earning an annoyed look from Outis as Dante visibly winces. You pat them on the shoulder as an attempt of comfort.

"It seems I am the last. Faust is the name." The silver-haired Sinner says calmly, "A genius with whom you’re lucky to cross paths even once in your life."

"Mhm..." Dante says, clearly skeptical.

You rub the back of your head, knowing very well that Faust is... sorta correct..?

"Sounds like you aren’t convinced, Dante, while your demon is." She notes, "Well, it’s fine. You’ll come to learn, all in due time."

"Learn what..?"

"That Faust is indeed a brilliant mind." She casually replies, "When a proverbial tree falls, the fact of its sound cannot become truth when the outside observer fails to recognize it."

"Okay..." Dante says, uncertain of anything Faust says.

Then everyone looks at you.

"M- me?" You ask, surprised.

"Yes. You." Vergilius calmly tells you, and everyone waits for you to speak.

You hesitate, but take a breath. "...very well. My name is [Name]. I'm not from this world, that much is clear... and, Dante, you brought me here. Think of me as your... assistant, per say."

"Assistant?"

"I'm here to protect and serve you. Specifically, I'm here to ensure you do not die until you successfully retrieve your head. Upon your head being gathered, I will depart from this world and to my own." You say, explaining the false story the others got pieces of. "And, with that, my contract with you resulted in certain... benefits. Such as the blades that seem to fly."

"And why are they-?"

"I duct taped them to the window because they tried to stab Vergilius." You calmly explain, since you... did do that earlier with the duct tape you happened to have. "They are in time out because I'm fairly certain they're sentient. They know what they did wrong."

"I-"

"I know it sounds insane, but trust me Dante." You say, "Or- Summoner. Uhm- which do you prefer me to call you..?"

"Dante works fine..." They tell you, staring at the blades taped to the window with a comical amount of duct tape. "So... you're like the Assistant Manager if I'm the Manager?"

"Unoffical, but... the term works, yes." You say, looking at Vergilius. "Happy?"

"Satisfied." He corrects, "That’s enough greetings. Dante, let me explain your new occupation."

"You mean… as the manager?" They ask. You quickly translate for Vergilius before Faust can, wanting to play your made-up 'assistant' role well.

"That’s correct, Executive Manager Dante. You will embark on a trip to the Inferno with the twelve Sinners who’ve just introduced themselves." He glances at you, "And your demon."

"...if you don't call me by my name, I'll call you 'Vergie'." You warn him.

His eyes narrow and the red glow intensifies. It's a silent warning, but you are too annoyed to care.

"Try me, Vergilius. I dare you."

"Okay, okay, calm down..." Dante tells you, trying to ease you from bickering with Vergilius. "But... the Inferno?"

"...they're curious about the Inferno." You translate, trying to relax your tense body.

"Hmm… How about this: Treasure awaits at the end of the road… Would that suffice?" Vergilius explains dismissively.

"I don’t… You mean I used to be a treasure hunter or something?" Dante asks, curious.

"I... don't think so..?" You guess, looking at Vergilius to translate before-

"Neither seems to get you at all." Faust notes calmly.

"I did not ask for your understanding, Dante. Nor was this a question of your willingness." He says, and you have a feeling there is going to be a fist-fight between you two at some point. "You’ll have to listen to me if you want to reclaim your memories and original head."

"I mean… I do want them back, but…" Dante thinks, clearly apprehensive.

In your made-up lore, you're just here for a job... so...

"They’re hesitant." Faust notes.

"Ms. Faust, what will we do if Dante keeps on refusing to cooperate? This was not a scenario we anticipated."

"Preposterous. Faust anticipates every possibility." Faust answers bluntly, "Dante, once you’ve completed all your missions… You’ll be able to engrave the Aspect. I can promise you that."

Immediately, Dante begins nodding with utmost certainty. You just shrug and know that you're always on Dante's side no matter what.

"See there? They’re nodding." Faust points out.

"Good. Then we can continue." Vergilius says, "By the way, Charon, why isn’t the bus moving? Were you dozing off?"

You barely noticed the bus ceased moving.

"A bus driver only snoozes at rest spots, Verg." Charon calmly replies, "Weirdos were hanging around in front of Mephi."

"I told you, Charon. If anything happens with the bus, you’ve got to let me know right away." Vergilius says, pinching his nose out of frustration.

"Mephi? Who’s that?" Dante asks, curious.

"Mephistopheles. The name of this bus and the engine that runs it." Faust explains, "…And Faust’s magnum opus cordis."

"An ideal ferryboat to bear us across the Inferno." Vergilius adds, "Wouldn’t you agree, Dante?"

Dante just looks out the window, and you glance back at the other Sinners.

"Looks like they’re just another pack of dirty Rats living in the Backstreets." Vergilius suddenly says about the people outside, immediately getting your attention, "This is just the right time, Dante. They should make perfect targets for practicing your command."

"Dante, I skipped over many details during our first battle. We were short on time, after all." Faust says, "However, we’ll be slaughtered frequently if no improvements are made to your strategy. And in turn, you’ll have to endure senseless pain over and over again to revive us."

"Pain… Revive? You mean, what happened earlier was…"

"Yes, we were brought back to life because you “turned back the clock”." Faust says with a nod.

"I don’t believe that much is necessary, Ms. Faust." Vergilius interjects, "Save the chatter for later. Sinners, off the bus. You too, de- ...[Name]."

Dante falls asleep fairly quickly, and you idly stare outside the window as you wait for time to pass. You're exhausted, too, and desperately want to sleep, but the anxious thoughts buzzing in your head keep you alert and awake.

You rub your eyes, having overheard that there are apparently rooms in the back for the Sinners and others to sleep in, but you figure with you just... appearing, your sleeping situation is fucked.

Oh well, at least the view outside isn't the worst. The sun is gradually rising in the cloudy sky, bringing natural light into the bus that only grows brighter as time passes.

Dante's sleeping body then presses against you, and their head rests upon your shoulder. Your eyes widen as the flames from their clock lick your skin, but they don't burn. It's a pleasant warmth that tickles your cheeks and wings. It's a soothing feeling you desperately needed.

"Hey~!"

You look up at Rodya, nod a greeting at her as she stands over you, smirking down at you, and resume chilling.

...wait, Rodya..?

You flinch, nearly waking up Dante, and your head almost snaps with how quickly you look at Rodya again. She chuckles at your panic and confusion, and you're confused as to why she's interacting with you. Also, you're scared to find out the reason, because you know better than to trust anyone here.

They are not your friends, and they will not be forgiving once they learn the truth about you.

"You look like I just stepped on your tail," She muses, "What? Am I not allowed to talk to you?"

"Yes- I mean- no- I- I mean- ah-" You wish you had the ability to melt into a puddle so you could escape this undesired social interaction. You're making weak whines of pain. They're going to think you're weak and pathetic, oh god-

Well... better to underestimate you, you guess? If you seem useless, maybe they won't give a fuck about you and you can find an excuse to escape this inevitable shitshow.

"Do... do you need something..?" You nervously ask, feeling like Sinclair. Welp, now you got something to relate to him about when you go home. You guess...

"Just to talk to you," Rodya muses, leaning in too close for your liking, "That gold on you... is it real?"

"Gold?" You echo, before you touch your cheek where Rodya's looking. Oh, there's little patterns of gold stuck into your skin, like artificial scales. "Oh, these old things! Yeah, it's real gold. Just- Just some marks I got in places on my body. They're kinda like... like tattoos or piercings, you know? Just... gold- or other metal- sorta... melded into the skin."

God, you're getting too good at lying... you really don't like having to do this.

"Oooh~" Rodya coos, "Heh, you don't need to be so scared. We don't bite~"

Then she glances back at the other Sinners, and then looks at you with a brighter smile. "I don't bite, at least."

"I... believe you." You cautiously say, "Um... it's very nice to meet you Miss... Rodya, right?"

"Yep." She says with a coy grin. "And you're [Name]."

Her gaze flicks to your tail, and she looks bemused. "Your tail's pretty big, y'know... that's it for?"

"Fat storage," You immediately lie, "Like... like a gecko, y'know?"

"Really now," She muses, "Is it squishy?"

"I- uh-" You hesitate, before lifting your tail up so she could touch it, "How about you find out for yourself..?"

Your attempt at sounding confident failed...

Rodya lets out a laugh, before complying and giving a part of your tail a squeeze with her hand. It makes you tense, and feels like someone just squeezed your thigh... except it's your tail...

It's an electrifying sensation. One you aren't sure how to feel about. It's also borderline painful.

"Well, look at that." Rodya murmurs, before grinning at you. "It's quite squishy... hm, can I call you that?"

"Uh-"

"Great, well now, Squishy," Rodya says, resting on the back of the seat. "I think I like you."

"Oh- so- are we like... friends?" You nervously ask, though you wouldn't mind to have someone like Rodya potentially leaning to be on your side.

"Hm..." She thinks for a moment, "Sure, friends."

"Wow- I-" You nervously mess around in your pockets, noticing there's a particularly large ring of sorts inside, and you pull out a golden bracelet you didn't notice you had.

You hold it, then glance at Rodya, who's staring at the bracelet in surprise. Then you realize it makes no sense to just pull out a bracelet randomly, so...

"Uh- here!" You say, offering her the bracelet, "I got lots of random jewelry. Take this as... a new friendship gift."

Rodya gives you a smile. It's a pitying one, though. One that reads more like 'oh you poor, easily manipulated thing' than anything else. "Thank you, Squishy."

Then, after a few more words you're panicking too much to process, she leaves.

You slowly look out of the window again, shaking slightly as you regret every choice you've made.

--☆☆☆--

Dante's been asleep for about... ten minutes by now. And you're bored out of your mind due to a rare, almost impossible moment of the Sinners not being a bunch of chaotic idiots.

Curse the TikTok algorithm for helping shrink your attention span to that of a rasin...

"Verg," Charon suddenly says, and you glance over as Dante twitches slightly, "Blockage ahead. Permission to vroom-vroom?"

Dante stirs and sits up, and you sense them blearily blinking, which is weird due to the fact their face is a clock.

Vergilius is silent, before nodding. "Alright, let’s proceed."

In person, you honestly dislike this depressed single father of a man. Mostly because it's obvious he'd rather you dead and no longer a problem to him.

Jackass... not like you wanna be here either...

"Ok. Here come bumpity-bumps."

That warning means nothing as the bus lurches upon the contact, wet snaps and thuds weakly drifting through the walls of the bus as your insides churn. Seeing the blood that now coats the front window doesn't help either.

Death is so... casual here. You don't think you'll ever get used to it.

Charon, without her blank expression changing, flicks a switch and the wipers activate, cleaning off the red liquid with little hassle. Just... washing away the remnants of actual, living people who were most likely desperate enough to try to rob a bus to survive another day.

You wonder if the person you killed had a family. Had friends. Had a life they were fighting for.

And you ended it with a snip.

You're a monster... you can't do it again.

"Expensive washer fluid. Verg said he paid a fortune." Charon suddenly says, as if she senses your staring in particular. She looks at you through the rearview mirror (a useless thing, if you think about it, considering that the back of the bus instead apparently leads to rooms for the passangers, or so you've overheard), before returning her attention to the road without so much as blinking.

"Hey..." Dante groggily says, flames dimmed, "[Name]... Do you know where we're going?"

You shake your head in a wordless lie. You know very well where you're going. And you know very well who's going to die...

Your gaze flicks to Gregor, where he sits relatively near you and Dante, knowing full you're entering his Canto.

Dante's gaze follows yours, and they tick. "Bu- I mean, Glasses. Know where we're going right now?"

"..." Gregor is silent for a moment, looking up as he takes a drag of his cigarette. "You almost called me "bug guy", didn't you?"

"Dante, his name is Gregor..." You tell them, though you do remember that- unlike you- Dante has never heard of these people before. You have so much knowledge compared to them, it's borderline unsettling. "I- I think. Sorry if I got that wrong."

"Nah, you're good." Gregor tells you, and you notice his slight smile at you reminding Dante of his name. "Yeah, my name is Gregor. The same way you're called Dante and not clockface."

Dante is silent and just nods, embarrassed.

You don't comment on the fact you sense them blushing because of being called out. It feels... weird, to have a deeper connection with Dante and... for what?

So many mysteries... and no answers. It's driving you mad.

"Say, Bus Girlie. Where are we headed?" Gregor asks, sitting up as you notice his bug arm twitch. It's slight, but if just sitting up can make it react...

His situation is horrible. Poor man...

"Once again, my name is Charon." She says, not looking back and not having you need to remind people of her name. "The same way you're called Gregor and not bug guy."

Gregor is silent, mouth slightly agape, but he's clearly not upset by any means.

"She got you there, Gregor." Dante tells him, amused.

"Haha, she really did." He muses, scratching his bug arm.

Charon is quiet for a moment, before she speaks up. "…Verg said: "The Sinners will go to District 4.”"

She does a very good impression of his voice, not going to lie.

...

Wait... isn't the-?

"Whaaaat ho?! Did District 4 fall upon my ears?!" Don asks, immediately perking up and making her way towards the front end of the bus, "That place is known to be the home of the Grass Maiden! ‘Tis the origin of the heroine’s journey. And ‘twas the-"

"Bloody hell, you’re rattling on and on and on…" Heathcliff snaps, "Can’t you just shut up and let the trip go in peace?"

You forgot how much Heathcliff was a jerk in the beginning... just... keep yourself together. Don Quixote and Sinclair may be some of your favorite Sinners and characters, but no matter how much you want to, getting into a fistfight is a horrible idea.

Especially because if you die, it's forever.

Don's expression of joy turns to one of hurt. "Why, I had remained silent unto mere moments ago!"

"I said to shut up!" Heathcliff practically roars at her, standing up himself.

"Hey-" You say suddenly, tapping Don's hand that rests on the back of the seat. "I'd like to hear more about the Grass Maiden..."

The look of sheer elation Don gives you makes you feel warm inside, and she opens her mouth to speak, before Ishmael cuts in before Heathcliff can make a remark.

"…Sorry, did you happen to realize you’re being louder here?" She tells him, clearly annoyed.

He pauses, before turning to Ishmael while shaking from rage, "…Even if you can’t die, you sure as hell can suffer, no? So say that again."

"I say the right thing and your first response is violence?" She scoffs, "Shows how refined you are."

Oh no-

Dante hesitates, before speaking up in a slightly nervous voice, "Now now, guys, it’s inadvisable to lose your c-"

Then Ryōshū steps in before things get particularly bloody, piercing through human necks like a hot knife through softened butter. Both Heathcliff and Ishmael makes noises of pain, before collapsing dead to the floor in thumps, their heads making duller ones as the disconnected body parts hit the ground first.

"TRANCHES." She says, before explaining at the looks she gets, "To right against noisy crying hogs entails scragging."

Don twitches slightly, and you look over at her with a grimace and knowledge. "Don Quixote, please-"

Then Ryōshū gets her head pierced through with Don's spear.

"Senseless violence shan’t be forgiven! I will bring about justice!" Don says with a cheery smile.

"Didn't... you just commit senseless violence?" You ask, pointing out the obvious.

Don huffs, smiling cheerily. "It twas not "senseless violence", Assistant Manager Esquire! It twas justice, pure and true!"

"...just come over here and tell me about the Grass Maiden, please. No more violence, even if it's for justice..."

"Very well!" She declares, waltzing over to you as she immediately sits down behind you as if she isn't stained in blood and starts excitedly explaining to you everything about the Grass Maiden. She speaks swiftly enough you can barely catch what she's saying as Rodya complains about the blood, and Dante looks like they're slowly losing their mind.

You gently pat them on the shoulder as a form of comfort. They seem to appreciate it.

"Can’t take a small break without anticipating trouble, can I." Vergilius dryly remarks, staring at the scene like a disappointed father at their child who just told them they quit their job to do YouTube full time as a career. "You four. Cleaning duty for the next month."

"Such unfairness! I merely sought the hand of justice!" Don says, looking upset.

You pat her on the hand to calm her down. It seems to work.

"Oh, also! Tell them to do my laundry, too. Blood doesn’t wash off as easily as wine stains. Sheesh, dry cleaning’s costly…" Rodya adds, but Vergilius doesn't reply.

"I can help with that." You offer, "I know how to get blood out of things easily. I- I had a cat who'd apparently found a hole that led outside in my home as a kid... he liked to bring me dead things and open up their bodies... blood got on the carpet that I had to figure out how to clean, heh..."

Rodya grins at you, "Aren't you a useful one? I'll take you up on your offer."

You smile at her, feeling... slowly more comfortable over time. While you absolutely never can completely lower your guard, maybe you can form some decent friendships with the Sinners.

You glance at Faust, who's blankly staring at you.

At least some of them, anyway...

"Dante, I’d like you to turn the clock back." Vergilius says, and Dante flinches.

"Turn... the clock?"

Vergilius waits for a moment, then sighs. "That must mean there’s a puzzled look where your face should be. I’ll keep that in mind."

He glances at you for a moment, before looking to Faust. "Ms. Faust."

You don't pay much attention to the scene, your attention instead shifting to Sinclair, who's unfortunately seated right next to the carnage. He's stained in blood, holding his halberd with a traumatized expression, and shaking.

...

"Hey." You tell him, now that Dante's all tensed, standng, and trying to revive the fallen Sinners. "You... uh... wanna sit away from the corpses?"

Sinclair flinches at your voice, but looks at you. He doesn't speak, but with one glance at the corpses, he nods.

You motion to an empty seat across the aisle from you, and Sinclair moves, cautiously stepping around the now writhing corpses, and you're holding a Dante who's screaming (only to you, apparently, considering the lack of anyone else's reaction to the cries) and doubled over in absolute agony, collapsed into your form for stability. Gloved fists ball your shirt, and they shake as if the pain is coursing through their veins and trying to break free like the vines of a seed.

Sinclair winces at the sight, but takes a seat away from the bodies as he immediately seems much more comforted to not have to be so close to them.

He doesn't speak, but you see how thankful he is in his gaze. A quiet, nervous "thank you" from a man who's experienced little kindness. Who's unsure of how to react to genuine warmth.

...you decide right then and there you're going to try to after the story. At least for this part.

Dante wheezes as the fallen Sinners are fully revived, grumbling in discomfort as the clock-headed being remains leaning on you for support. You just bring them back into the seat, trying to help them calm down.

You're becoming the therapist, oh god-

"Keh… How does it feel to have your head back after it was severed? Was it exciting?" Ryōshū asks, the only one smiling after that.

Heathcliff grits his teeth, mutters some British vulgarities that scare you, and starts towards the black-haired artist.

"Hold on, I just brought you back and you’re going straight into another fight?" Dante asks, dismayed.

"Can we... not?" You ask, considering the ground is already stained in more blood than it should be.

"Isn’t it your job to bring us back?" Heathcliff asks as she whips around to face Dante, pissed off, "If your job’s done, then step aside before I knock your dumb clock off."

"Hey! Can't you see they're weakened by reviving you? Don't just act like you can-" You start, trying to stop Sinclair from getting his skull bashed in by directing Heathcliff's ire at you (you have enough people around you it's going to be hell trying to get through them all to kill you), but he interrupts you.

...oh no.

"P- please wait!" He says, standing up, "Dante looks like they’re in a lot of pain, so we should sh-"

Then, there is an audible crack as Heathcliff caves in the side of Sinclair's head.

...oh fuck your life-

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" You can't stop yourself from blurting out, "All he did was echo what I was saying!"

"Yeah, and that's why you're next." Heathcliff tells you, raising the bat.

You flinch at the threat of death, knowing he very well means it and he clearly isn't going to be stopped.

"You really are as coarse as you look." Ishmael suddenly adds, earning Heathcliff's attention.

"…Was dying once not enough for you?" He asks, seemingly willing to wait on killing you to actually kill Ishmael this time.

Oh god, this is a shitshow...

"Fuck my life..." You mumble to yourself, lying aloud to make your web of falsehoods more plausible, "Out of all the contracts you could've accepted, [Name], it had to be this one..."

Then a simple clearing of Vergilius' throat makes everyone pause.

"It seems this team’s in serious need of discipline." He coldly says, eyes glinting brighter than usual.

Heathcliff and Ishmael fall silent.

"Rule number one." He drawls, "Do not let me hear weapons clashing inside the bus. If any of you break this rule as of now… You’re going to be begging for me to let you die. I’m sure you know I’m capable of that and more, right?"

Everyone is silent at that, only Sinclair's pained wriggles as he dies, making any sound. You can't stop yourself from moving to crouch next to him and hold his hand as a form of comfort, and you wonder if you can even alter the plot...

Vergilius glances down at you, before shifting his attention to Dante. "Dante, I’m sorry about this. I need you to rewind one more time."

"I have to do that again…?" Dante asks, dismayed. They hesitate, then shake their head "no".

Immediately, Vergilius looks annoyed.

"…You’d better open up while I’m still feeling generous enough to ask and offer apologies, Manager Dante." He warns, "Oh, in case you’re refusing simply because you don’t want more pain, I can gladly help you with that. This degree of pain will feel like nothing by the time I’m done. Surely you’ll be a tougher person afterward, right?"

Dante winces, and you sense their grimace.

"Did I hear correctly?" Outis buts in, giving Vergilius a glare, "I’m pretty sure our manager clearly declined your request."

You hold the hand of the now very dead Sinclair, noticing how only one of his eyes- the only one he has right now since half is skull is bashed in- is open, staring directly at you.

It's unnerving, so you gently slide the eyelid shut in an attempt to ease yourself, even if slightly.

You still hold his hand, though. It feels... wrong to let go now, even if you know he'll be back soon.

"You… This is not the time to step in." Vergilius warns Outis, annoyed.

"I was informed when I joined the company that the Executive Manager would be my superior, not you." She retorts, "I would say that the manager has made themself clear with a shake of the head."

"I see, so their aide has decided to step in, is that it?" Vergilius says, glowering at Outis with eyes gradually growing a brighter red. It drags your attention back to the growing tension between the two. "Then it’s my turn to make clear what I mean."

"Woah- woah- WOAH-!" You immediately stand up, barely holding onto Sinclair's hand now as you interrupt the two due to Dante's evident panic at the scene. "Hey- hey! Wait a damn second, will you?"

You- hesitantly- let Sinclair go as you step between the two, getting them slightly apart. "Dante just revived three Sinners. Literally did it a minute ago. I agree we shouldn't leave Sinclair dead, but Dante just went through physical agony. Give them like... a minute to catch their breath, maybe?"

"Don't get involved in this." Vergilius warns you.

"I am getting involved in this." You retort, "I am under contractual obligation to protect Dante. Be it physically, mentally, and emotionally. So, while I'm all for making Sinclair alive as quickly as possible, let the Manager have a moment to steady themselves!"

You and Vergilius glare at each other, but he takes a sharp breath. Perhaps it's due to surprise from your seemingly sudden switch up from nervous to defensive. Perhaps it's due to him noticing your kindness, which you know very well is a rare sight in the City. Perhaps it's something else entirely.

But he nods slightly. "Very well. One minute, and then they're rewinding the clock."

"I believe that works." You respond bluntly, "It does work, right, Dante?"

Dante quickly nods, clearly not wanting to make the situation worse than it already is.

Vergilius merely scoffs, then takes a few steps back. You ignore the indignant look Outis gives you (you don't have to be a genius to sense she isn't happy you took the place she clearly aims to have simply by existing), and stand next to Dante, ensuring no one steps on the body of Sinclair while you're able to.

"Thank you." Dante tells you suddenly.

"For what?" You ask, curious, before it hits you. "Oh- I- I'm just doing my job, Dante! It's the least I could do..."

You sense Dante smiling at you, and you have a strong feeling that they confirmed the idea you're the only one they can truly trust, for now at least.

Oh... only if they knew the truth...

The moment that minute is up, you're back to holding Dante up as they writhe and scream in physical agony, and then Sinclair is standing up on shaking legs and nearly collapses, leaving you to catch him and be left with supporting two people in physical pain at once.

"…Th- thank you very much…" He stutters out once he manages to calm himself enough to stand on his own, and then goes back to his seat. His walk, right now, looks more like waddling than anything else.

Oh god, he's more adorable in person.

All it does is make you hate Kromer more for the things she's done to him.

You hope you can kick her ass at some point. That'd be one of the only good things about being trapped in the world of Project Moon.

Because you have a feeling there isn't much else good here.

--☆☆☆--

Thankfully, you were able to go sit back down on a seat, even with your tail being rather annoying to sit on, with Dante staying rather close to you.

God, you feel exhausted. You have no clue what time it is, but it's been forever since you've slept...

...Canto 1 will be over in a few hours. Then you can take a nap.

That is, if you have a place to sleep... you don't want to take up a seat and have your tail taking up half of the aisle because your horns are stupidly long and it's going to be hell to sleep normally.

"Pardon me! I have a question!" Don speaks up, waving a hand excitedly in the air.

"Shoot." Vergilius said dismissively, seemingly focused on his book.

"Verily, I understood the first rule well!" She says eagerly, "What is the second rule, then?"

"Hah, really… Why are you so eager to learn that?" Gregor asks, curious.

"..." Vergilius is silent, eyes scanning the bus and its passengers as he thinks. Then he focuses on Ryōshū, who just lit a cigarette.

"Rule number two…" He drawls, "Don’t litter the bus floor with cigarettes. They leave burn marks."

Ryōshū smirks, slightly ticked off by him. All she responds with is a curt laugh before she smokes casually.

"Rule number three..." Vergilius says suddenly, gaze flicking to you, "Don't leave feathers all over the bus."

You blink, before letting out an annoyed sigh. He really just hates you, doesn't he?

"I'm not even close to molting season, but alright." You agree begrudgingly, and you feel... unsettled, with how easily these lies keep flying from your mouth. What is wrong with you..?

...it's just desperation. It has to be. Once you go home, you'll never lie again. Especially not this much.

The bus falls silent, and you look out the window again.

Okay... it's about time for Dante to learn how Mephi is fueled, and then... Yuri.

...

You're going to be kind to her. After all, she is going to die soon... unfortunately.

...

Unless...

"Now wait a second, the bus shouldn’t be this quiet." Vergilius mutters, "Where’s the engine’s roar? Charon, why aren’t you speeding up?"

"No food." She casually replies, still in the driver's seat with uptmost casualty. "Mephi is hungry."

"Good. We could use something to lift the mood." Vergilius murmurs, earning a confused look from several Sinners and a deadpan look from you.

Does he seriously think the murder and consumption of people by a bus eating them while they're alive and incapacitated was a 'mood lifter'?

His gaze flicks from Charon to you momentarily, but then he looks back as if he saw nothing at all. You try to blank your expression by force, glancing back at the ever-watching Faust.

"A car needs fuel to run." Vergilius says, earning your attention again, "Charon, try flashing the headlights a bit. Like stage lights."

"Mhm, it’s dance timey." Charon replies, doing just what was ordered of her.

"Wait, if we do that, we’re effectively asking to be attacked." Ishmael suddenly points out, an expression of frustrated concern on her face.

"That appears to be the intent." Meursault says, expression blank.

It earns a flabbergasted look from Ishmael. "…Sorry?"

Then, there is the sound of banging from the outside of the bus, like someone is slamming a weapon to its thick walls.

"Oi! Leave all ya stuff behind and get off!" A hooligan from the group that is now attempting to surround the bus orders, "Y’got 30 seconds! Ten! Nine!"

"Ey, you skipped twenty of ‘em." A different one points out.

"Er… Uhh…" The first one hesitates, "Well, say your prayers for the other 20!"

"Why am I surrounded by dullards left and right?" Ishmael asks, sounding disappointed.

"Because people often hold eachother to certain standards they deem as "reasonable", and get frustrated whenever others don't meet that even if the other person has differing standards..?" You mumble, mostly to yourself, but you wouldn't be surprised if someone overheard you.

"…What’d you just say?" Heathcliff asks Ishmael in a warning tone, clearly not hearing what you said.

"How cowardly of them to ambush us!" Don says, eyes glinting with determination, "They must be villains without a shadow of a doubt!"

"Alright, everyone off." Vergilius orders, "And one more thing: we want them near death, not dead. Got it?"

You swear to yourself the only fighting you're doing is to protect Dante and yourself. Though, you fear no matter what you do, you're going to be partially responsible in killing living people with lives.

...

You're not a good person. Not anymore.

--☆☆☆--

The fight was simple. The Sinners absolutely tore down each hooligan, leaving their battered- but alive- bodies at the front of the bus.

When the bus' front splits open with the sound of screeching metal and wet crunches, you advert your eyes as it begins to devour the still living, although mutilated, people. The ones awake scream in pain, and the ones unconscious simply die or awaken and join in the chorus of agony.

Ryōshū and Sinclair are the closest to you and Dante, and it's impossible for you to miss Ryōshū's satisfied expression and Sinclair's horrified one.

"They… all look like they’re out of their minds." He weakly mutters, "Don’t you think so too?"

"..." Dante is silent for a moment, "Just to make sure… None of you were forced to join, right?"

Oh, right. This scene.

"Ah..." Sinclair's head droops and breath hitches, "That’s right. It was by my choice. I’ll get used to all this… Right?"

"Hey, hey." You chime in, approaching slightly. "It's okay to be uncomfortable by... this. I'm the same exacf way. It's just... you... uh... what I'm trying to say is, don't force yourself to "get used to it". It's okay to look away sometimes. Everyone does it."

Sinclair's yellow gaze flicks to you, and he seems relieved by your words, mouthing you a silent "thank you".

"‘Tis what I would have done even if the company recruited me not!" Don says with her signature cheery smile, "Look, yon horde of evil approaches!"

...great, more people to fight. To mutilate. To feed to a bus.

...

---

"Gee, when was the last time I had a feast?" Rodya remarks as she watches Mephistopheles devour the bodies of living people. "Even a big blocky machine eats better than we do…"

"Do mind that all meals are provided with appropriately determined quantities." Faust tells her calmly.

"It’s not nearly enough to get me going!" Rodya complains, annoyed.

Heathcliff shouts from the distance, "You think I’m doing this on a full stomach?!” but Rodya ignores him.

"Hey, Squishy, you need to eat too, right?" Rodya suddenly asks you, flashing you a grin, "How much do you need to eat..?"

"Uh... a decent amount, and I definitely need to have a healthier diet considering half of my meals consist of instant ramen most of the time, why?" You ask confused, "I mean, I can probably eat anything you give me with little issues..."

"Do you need to eat more than the average human?" She asks you, and you figure out what she's doing.

"..,yes." You say after a moment, before Rodya hums, giving Faust a look.

"Well, you aren't going to deprive Squishy here of food, hm~? Remember to feed her plenty~"

"...I am not a pet..." You tell Rodya, giving her a look for how she's seemingly talking to Faust like you're a dog.

"Faust notices how you certainly act like one around Dante." Faust points out casually, and you just... slowly look at her with a blank expression. You feel your wings bristle, though.

"Does this bus run on stuff like blood or protein?" Dante suddenly asks, keeping you from sucker punching Faust if she says anything else because you're quickly getting tired of taking other people's shit.

"It’s Enkephalin, an energy source Lobotomy Corporation treated." She suddenly explains, casually looking away from you.

"You mean the previous L Corp." Ishmael says, "I heard it produced energy using its Singularity, though all that remains of the company now is rubble."

"That’s right, which is why it’s become a rarity these days." Faust nods, "However, Mephistopheles is capable of forcibly extracting Enkephalin from the body."

"The body..?" Dante echos.

Both of you notice how Outis seems to be directing the Sinners, but you are lacking in leadership skills and Dante is not really equipped to do that stuff right now, so neither of you interfere.

"Correct, Enkephalin can only be extracted from the brain and the spinal nerves. It can be taken from live subjects for greater efficiency."

"Okay, and..."

"If “Why the rest of their body?” is what you’re thinking, there is a point, as their blood and flesh can also be processed into fuel." Faust says, "While Enkephalin is used to generate ignition and thrust, the remaining organic matter is spent on maintaining speed, thus reducing Enkephalin usage."

"A hybrid." Yi Sang remarks.

"Clever." You admit, still thinking it's horrific to use living people as fuel, but not going to be the one to complain about something you're hopefully never have to worry about again. At least, when you reverse whatever happened to you and go home.

Faust smiles faintly in a satisfied way, and then went on a long explanation of how a majority of the fuel is taken from branching facilities, and how it isn't a sufficient source on its own.

While Dante looks incredibly confused, you seem to understand... everything? Weird.

"…Well, that’s complicated. I got that it’s tough work, at least."

"Don't mention it." She replies, "Faust knows no struggle."

"If anyone’s doing the heavy lifting, it’d be us…" Gregor chimes in, before noticing more foes approaching. "Hey! Manager Bud! More incoming!"

--☆☆☆--

"Hey! That’s enough of that." Vergilius orders from where he now stands in th3 doorway of the bus. "We’re expecting a guest any time now."

"A guest? Who?" Dante asks, curious.

Faust shrugs slightly, "I’ve determined that we’ll need a guide as this is our first trip to a dungeon."

Then a certain woman with bright red hair approaches. Her grip on her glowing red blade is tight, and her expression is hesitant. She glances around with her only gray eye, her right eye instead having a large patch over it and bandage on her right cheek.

Her gaze flicks over to you, and her eye widens in surprise.

"Excuse me… Are you the people from Limbus Company?" She calls out, glancing from you to the others, "Looks like it..."

You rub the back of your head, your smokey hair twirling dramatically despite the faint breeze. You glance back at Mephistopheles, who just finished eating, and look back at Yuri.

She's going to die, and you know it.

...but... what if..?

She gives the bus an indifferent look, apathetic to the fact it just ate people, and introduces herself.

"I’m Yuri, a former employee of the previous L Corp. I look forward to working with you."

She keeps glancing at you, unsure of what you are. Probably figures you're an Abnormality of sorts, if you think about it. Wouldn't blame her. You'd be confused if you saw someone that looked like you do now before all this happened to you.

"By L Corp, do you mean..?"

"Has to be Lobotomy Corporation." Gregor says.

Faust nods. "That’s right, we will explore the former branch facilities of Lobotomy Corporation—also called the old L Corp."

"If I were you, I wouldn’t have taken part in this." Ishmael interjects, "Being a fallen Wing and everything, I doubt your employment ended on pleasant terms."

"What’re you on about?" Rodya asks, "Any point in your life can be pleasant as long as you’ve money to spend."

"Hrm, I heard those places are still teeming with monsters to this day…" Gregor adds.

"Not “monsters”, Abnormalities." Faust adds, glancing at you for a moment with that last word, before looking back at the others. "The rumors are true, either way. But there are more important matters. In the deepest reaches of these branches are neoplastic plantlike growths holding the essence of L Corp’s technology."

You tune out Vergilius suddenly talking to Dante about to Golden Boughs, and look around.

"...what happened to "hello, nice to meet you, my name is"?" You ask, looking back at Yuri. "Hi there! It's lovely- gah- lovely to meet you. I'm-"

"Squishy." Rodya interjects.

"A demon." Outis adds.

"Assistant Manager Esquire!" Don Quixote gleefully chimes in.

"...[Name]. I'm [Name]." You finish, giving the three a slightly frustrated look.

"Uh- nice to meet you too." She says, sounding a little less certain than you did (and you did NOT sound certain). Yuri hesitates, before offering you her hand to shake. You do just that, careful not to let your claw-like fingernails scratch her calloused palms.

You really need to cut them when you get the chance... you're not used to having nails this long.

"And if it’s Lobotomy Corp we’re scouring… we might find some Enkephalin, too." Dante says, getting your attention again as you pull your hand away from her because everyone is now boarding the bus.

Sinclair blinks, looking relieved. "Oh, does that mean we won’t have to… feed people into our vehicle?"

"We could also grab some E.G.O if we’re lucky, so that’s three rats with one stone." Ishmael adds, earning a confused look from Dante.

You seem to be the only one even interacting with Yuri to any extent, even as you all get on. That is, until Gregor chimes in.

"So, Miss Yuri, what’ve you been up to since the layoff?" He asks with a well meaning smile, his unfamiliarity with small talk evident.

She opens her mouth to reply, until Don chimes in with an enthusiastic look.

"It appears to me that thou art an honorable Fixer! It is said that all Fixers exude the noble scent of heroes!"

Yuri nods slightly, surprised at Don's words as you awkwardly stand between Yuri and Dante.

Ishmael sighs. "I don’t know who gave you that idea, but Fixers are anything but noble or heroic. The only scent you’ll smell is the miserable stink of wage slaves."

You and Gregor give Ishmael a deadpan look in sync, your frustration at her comment evident.

"…It couldn’t have been easy to find another job so soon." Gregor says, looking back at Yuri. "Good that you’re holding up."

"For now… I’m just a contract worker." Yuri says, looking unphased.

"Aha. That explains why you decided to crawl on back there." Ishmael says with a roll of her eyes, "Did they promise to promote you to team leader or something if you struck gold in your former workplace?"

Yuri takes a sharp breath. "…My contracts might get extended if I return with results."

"R- Right." Gregor nods, "A good result is something to risk your life for if you want to earn a permanent spot."

"Ha, and what a futile life that is." Ishmael says sarcastically.

"...Ignore her," You whisper to Yuri, "I'm fairly certain everyone here is going to be responsible for a fight in some way with the attitudes they have..."

Yuri hums at your response as Gregor questions Ishmael's behavior quietly, her gaze flicking to you. She's still uncertain as to what you are, but you don't miss the glint of appreciation in her gaze.

"...contract work, am I right?" You ask as her gaze falls to the bloodstained interior of the bus.

Her eye widens as she looks at you, surprised you too are here under a contract.

Even if yours is a lie...

"I… can’t seem to get used to being around these people." Dante confesses to you, earning your attention.

"Well, maybe someday you will..?" You reply, uncertain. "Uhm- hey, at least a good bunch of them are rather nice... ish..?"

You just sit down, but Yuri sits next to you before Dante can. It clearly surprises them, but they don't raise a complaint as they sit behind you, Don Quixote quickly jaming her way to sit behind Yuri.

"…Charon, time to go. Our guest has taken her seat." Vergilius orders, and Charon nods.

"Mephi’s tum revived. Charon’s raring to drive."

You sit in silence as the bus roars to life and starts crusing along, Yuri curiously staring at you.

"I'm sorry if this is rude, but..." She starts to say, hesitating, "What are you..?"

"Oh- uh..." You blink, fidgeting with your hands. "I'm a Sectator. I behave near identically to a human, yet I apparently bear a resemblance to demons in your world. It's... complicated, Miss Yuri. I'm happy to answer any questions you have, though-!"

She just stares at you, more confused than she was initially, before nodding slightly. "I- thank you..."

"'Course." You tell her, before you both just look ahead in silence.

Then you notice the paper in her hands.

"...what's that?" You ask her, curious.

"Oh-! It's the... map..." Her voice quiets down as she realizes what's happening, and immediately sits up and looks to Charon. "Umm, sorry to ask… But if I have the map, how do you know what roads to take?"

"We do have something to lead us…" Charon says after a moment, "Intuition. Charon’s intuition."

"Whaaat?!" Yuri asks, stunned, as you flinch, before burying your face in your hands.

"We're dead. We are all so dead." You say to yourself, "I'm on a bus where the driver doesn't even have the map. Oh no..."

Yuri stands up, hesitating, before you join her out of instinct. She stares at you, you stare at her, and you motion to Charon. The woman with hot pink hair blinks, before piecing what you're silently implying and nodding.

It leads to you trying to find a compass literally anywhere on the front of the bus and Yuri trying to get Charon to look at the map. Everyone else just watches the scene, but you pay no mind to their comments.

"Pinky-hair, explain why you keep rubbing that odd paper in Charon’s face." Charon orders in her naturally deadpan tone.

"Because you keep going in weird directions!" Yuri says, grimacing, "Take a look at this map. Our destination is to the southeast of here…"

"I found a compass!" You tell her, holding up and waving the device as you approach. "...oh my god, we're going northwest."

"We're what?" Yuri asks, horrified, as she looks at the compass alongside you.

Charon glances at the map, her disinterest obvious as she looks back on the road. "Follow the heart. That’s where the true path lies."

"Hear, hear! We all must follow as our hearts lead!" Don says jovially.

"…You’re just admitting that you can’t read a map." Yuri points out, dismayed.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Ishmael says, before they both facepalm in sync.

"Charon, we're driving the opposite direction from where we're supposed to go..." You lament, "What's next? We drive through a building?"

...

You don't like the quick look she gives you.

"Ooh! Did our driver and Squishy make a new friend?" Rodya muses, grinning from her seat.

"Pinky and [Name] keep on blabbing." Charon bluntly replies, "I know the way."

"No, I mean, you’re going the wrong direction…" Yuri says, frowning.

"I don't think she's going to go in the right one." You say, as you unfortunately realize the bus appears to be on the wrong side of the road. And there are a group of people in said side of the road.

Good thing there's no other vehicles... you guess...

Charon sees the people too. "Look ahead, more obstacles. Do I vroom-vroom?"

"No, Charon. Wait one second." Vergilius stops her.

"Lookie! Nice bus you got there! Why don’tcha gimme a ride!" A man calls out, and you notice how... freakishly thin the group is.

"…I guess Mephistopheles could use a helping of dessert." Vergilius notes, looking to the Sinners, "Get on down… It needs to be fed just a bit more."

--☆☆☆--

You still aren't used to the casual slaughter of people. Probably desperate people.

But you don't speak up about it. You don't dare.

Because now, you're focused on something else...

"Now Charon, tell me, is this east or west?" Yuri asks, pointing to the map.

"Charon only knows two directions: Mephi’s front and back." The driver replies, voice deadpan but with a tinge of frustration you don't miss.

"How did you come so far with a driver who has zero sense of direction?" Yuri asks, evident concern in her gaze.

"I don't know." You confess, "Sheer luck, maybe?"

"Charon… Like I said, the sun rises from…" Sinclair prompts, having come up to assist you and Yuri in figuring out how to get Charon to use the map.

"Don't care." She replies, annoyed (yet as blank faced as ever). The trio of 'get the bus driver to use a map' audibly groans in response.

"Pft… Chiquita~ Aren’t you gonna join them too?" Rodya muses from where she sits nearby Don, nudging the girl.

Don huffs in response, pouting and puffing out her cheeks in response, waving her fist angrily in the air. "I beg your pardon! I am no child! And most certainly not little!"

You glance at Yuri, who's staring at Rodya and Don with a bitter expression. You place a hand gently on her shoulder, where she flinches but seems to relax, looking back at Charon and the map.

You overhear Gregor and Dante talking, but with the other sounds in the bus and your attention on Charon's concerning driving, the main part you overhear is Gregor's advice.

"Still, ignorance is a gift you should savor while you have it, if you ask me." He says, causing a grimace to form on your face, "Once you’re burdened with knowledge, there’s no going back."

"No, you should’ve turned right at that intersection!" Yuri blurts out, frustrated.

"I- It’s okay, Charon. We can turn around at the next junction." Sinclair stutters out.

"Ahh… The woes of a driver." Charon laments.

"I mean, you're doing pretty good at staying on route, now," You chime in, examining the map, "I'm sure the next turn will be the one you get right on the first try!"

"No." Charon responds, making you feel more dismayed than usual.

"Enough squabbling now." Vergilius suddenly cuts in, glaring at the sight of more people on the road, "More enemies inbound."

"You shoved my pals into that bus, you sick bastards! Are you nuts?" One of them calls out, seemingly in charge. "You’ll pay for this! We were just gonna leave with the bus, but now I’ve gotta see you all bleed!"

You feel... horrible. Like a monster who's killing real people.

"Verg, fuel is making a fuss. Charon will get dizzy if many mouths are being noisy." The driver remarks, looking as disinterested as she usually does.

"Nothing to worry about, Charon. They’ll shut their mouths soon enough." Vergilius responds, "Off the bus."

Just try not to think about it. You'll mourn these lives later. Just as they deserve.

---

"Okay, let’s look at the map again." Yuri says, while the gray skinned girl stays silent. She taps the paper with her fingers, her expression exasperated.

"Charon, can you please focus?" Sinclair asks her, dismayed.

"Just look at the map for a second..." You plead, desperate. "One single second won't kill you, right?"

You vaguely overhear Dante and Faust talking (about the bus, to be exact), but you feel her gaze... bore into you, for a moment.

By the time you glance back for a second, she's looking back at Dante. Probably nothing to worry about. At least for this moment.

"Charon isn't sure of that." She replies to your plead, driving on. "Charon doesn't need the map."

"Yes, you do." You, Sinclair, and Yuri say in sync, varying levels of distress and volume in your voices.

You sigh, feeling your patience being worn thin, though you decide to keep yourself calm. Don't snap at Charon... she's just a kid. Who's... driving age, but still a kid.

"Uh- the next time you get the chance to turn, turn right." Sinclair tells her, reading the map.

Charon doesn't reply, and the group trying to ensure she drives in the right direction anxiously watches over. When you get to the turn, you half expect her to not turn, but she does.

The sheer euphoria that you, Yuri, and Sinclair feel is humiliating when you consider it stems from you three trying to get the driver to go in the right direction.

Oh well...

--☆☆☆--

"Bweh… Greg, you know those pals?" Rodya asks, which warrants the attention from several folks, including you, to peer out and see...

Oh.

"Huh? Gimme a break… There’s no way I’d know someone in this corner of the Backstreets-" Then he falls silent, expression darkening at the sight of the partially insectoid people on the street. Faces mutilated from inhuman parts, antennae and wings and limbs that make you feel unnerved.

"Bug... heads..?" Dante asks, confused.

"Gosh… Dante, thank goodness your head’s shaped like a clock. I would’ve gagged if my manager was a huge bug." Rodya says, shuddering in disgust.

"Isn’t that… the same type of augmentation you have, Gregor?" Ishmael asks.

Heathcliff wrinkles his nose, scoffing. "They stitch disgusting insect heads to their necks on purpose?"

"You’d better stay away." Gregor remarks, his voice having a tinge of a teasing tone. "Wouldn’t want to catch the pest, ‘ne?"

"Eek, is that true?!" Sinclair asks, distressed.

"Just a joke… Does my sense of humor not fly with kids your age?" Gregor asks, scratching the back of his head.

"Is there something wrong with being partially inhuman?" You ask, frowning. "I don't see anything wrong with them. They're still people."

The atmosphere turns awkward at your words as the bus, meanwhile, lets out a wheezing sound as it comes to a halt.

"In the past, G Corp. had procedures on most employees to give them biomimetic weapons like the one Gregor has." Faust casually explains, ignoring your words.

"You used to work for the old G Corp, Gregor?" Ishmael asks, "That company must’ve been…"

She trails off, grimacing at bad memories.

"I wonder, where do people like them sleep at night?" Hong Lu asks, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"For many, the sky is the roof over their head, and the stars are their firelight." Vergilius explains dryly.

"Aha, so they’re the poetic sort!" The heterochromatic-eyed man says with a cheery smile.

"I don’t think that’s what he meant…"

"They're... homeless, Hong Lu." You gently explain, feeling a sinking feeling in your gut.

"Oh." Is the only reply you get, tone still airy and casual as he shrugs.

"And, unless my eyes deceive me, they’re intent on obstructing our journey." Vergilius continues, unbothered by your words. "Aren’t you going to get off, Gregor?"

"Care to explain why you’re calling my name specifically?" Gregor questions, slightly annoyed.

"Who knows. I don’t feel like rambling about someone else’s past with my own tongue." The Red Gaze responds, "Take the lead, Gregor. You know the reason."

Gregor is silent, mouth curved down into a frown. "…you’re one nasty fellow."

And then, practically everyone files off the bus once more.

As you go off, you linger back just enough to quickly flip off Vergilius before getting off before he can respond. Probably didn't see it either.

You really don't like him in person...

"Bah… I’m not too fond of being in the vanguard." Gregor admits, dismayed.

"What are you? Why does your arm look like ours?" One veteran asks, on guard.

"Hold on… I’ve seen that face before." Another says, puzzled.

Gregor takes a drag of his cigarette, sighing. "…Mostly on flyers and magazine covers, I’d bet."

"Gregor? Do you know them from somewhere?" Dante asks, curious and concerned.

"…Not really important right now, Manager." Ishmael says, "Don’t think we have the time for reminiscing."

"That arm bothers me… But, whatever. Point is, I can’t let you through." The veteran tells your group.

"Figured..." You mumble under your breath. You're already tired of fighting and watching these blades that hover around you like guard dogs slice anyone who dares try to harm you into ribbons as you stand close to Dante.

You're already bloodstained... and you detest the feeling.

Dante sags a bit, looking just as tired as you feel. "Is that so? I suppose we can’t talk this out…"

"Why are they showing their buggy sides out in the open, anyway?" Rodya asks, grimacing in disgust, "They’d make kids cry. Really ought to take some concealing lessons from our Greg over here, right?"

The slow head turn you had as you looked into her eyes with nothing but judgement.

You relate to these people on an uncomfortable level. You're no longer human either. Difference being, you probably are still considered "physically attractive" in a sense. Your inhuman features, while unnatural, aren't part of things naturally considered "ugly" by most.

These are living people just like you... and they keep being talked down to.

It leaves you feeling a lot of uncomfortably complicated emotions. Ones you'd rather not feel.

"I’m a special case. The procedure makes those “buggy” parts grow on the head most of the time." Gregor says, seemingly unaware to your reaction to Rodya's look and her slight 'oh shit' look at your stare. "Although… I’m not sure if I’d consider myself lucky."

"Are they after the Golden Bough too?" Rodya asks.

"Maybe so." Vergilius answers, causing you to flinch as he stands right behind you.

From the look he has at you, you think he saw the middle finger you gave him.

...oh shit.

"There ought to be many that are after the essence." He says, gaze flicking from you to Gregor, "…and I’m sure each has their own wishes. Isn’t that true?"

"What’s that look for? I haven’t got a clue, either." Gregor replies, sighing.

--☆☆☆--

If Vergilius is upset with you for you flipping him off, he didn't show it once everyone got on the bus again and resumed traveling.

"We’re here. Charon knew the way all along." Charon says, a hint of triumph in her deadpan voice as the bus stops in front of a crumbling building.

"No, no you didn’t!" Yuri blurts out, frustrated, "[Name], Sinclair, I had to steer you from both sides nonstop."

"I’m glad that at least you learned to tell the difference between southeast and northeast, Charon." Sinclair adds, a little sheepish.

"You got one turn right." You add with a chirpy voice, "Great progress!"

"So this is… the old L Corp?" Dante asks, peering out of the window.

"This is my first time seeing it with my own eyes, too…" Ishmael murmurs with wide eyes, "It can’t have been long since ‘that’ happened."

"My goodness… How can a building be in such a derelict state?" Hong Lu questions, surprised.

"Hah, this is a surprising scene for our rich boy, is it." Heathcliff says with a smirk.

"There's a lot of weird things around it..." You add, curiously squinting through the window, "...is that an armchair..?"

"Cut the chatter. Time to step off." Vergilius orders, and off everyone goes.

---

"Huh, there are people over there…" Dante notes, surprised.

"They’re Fixers from the same Office as Miss Yuri." Faust explains, "They’re experienced explorers who have visited the branches of L Corp. a number of times."

"Give your greetings." Vergilius says, "The person on the left is Hopkins, and the one on the right is Aya."

"Greetings~" Aya muses, giving you all a warm smile.

She's even cuter in person.

"Th… The… The-" Hopkins stutters, flustered and awestruck, "The Red Gaze! It’s- it’s such an honor to meet you…! I’ve heard so many stories of your deeds, and to see you in person…"

This fuck...

"Myeah." He replies, disinterested, "See the shabby warehouse there? That’s where the stairs leading down to the branch facility are. From there, Yuri here will be your guide."

"…Yeah." Yuri says with a curt nod.

"These Fixers have been around a bit. Count on them to handle complications." Vergilius adds, "That should be enough, yeah? This is as far as I can accompany you. I’ll be waiting back at the bus."

"Huh? Wait, what?" Dante asks, but now you're only half paying attention as you notice the armchair again. It's surprisingly close. And clean.

"You’re sorely mistaken if you expect me to babysit you forever, Dante."

You pay little mind to Vergilius' words as you seperate from the group to approach the chair, looking it over intently and internally praising your developed skills in finding good used items.

"So you’ll take a back seat and idle away all alone?" Heathcliff asks, as you look over the chair.

It's really soft and comfortable, even if worn from weather and time. There aren't any bugs in the chair, aren't any weird visible marks, or anything like that.

It's strangely high quality for a chair left outside an abandoned facility.

It also looks weirdly like your old armchair, if more damaged.

"If I get myself involved, the expedition would be a little too free of challenge, wouldn’t it? It’d turn into more of a tour."

"…In other words, you want us to come back red, black, and blue." Gregor notes.

"That’s the kind of line people with ulterior motives say…" Ishmael points out.

"Think whatever you want. I’ve gotten you guides and everything, so do your best down there."

Well, if the chair looks good, may as well see how comfortable it is, right?

...it is really comfortable. And sturdy. You like this chair.

"Yes! I certainly won’t disappoint you, Mister Red Gaze!" Hopkins excitedly says.

"I’ll try my best, I think~" Aya muses.

At this point, Vergilius pulls Dante aside to share a word with them, and the others take notice of what you're doing.

"What'cha find, Squishy?" Rodya asks you, eyes glimmering as she sees you curled up in the chair.

"Armchair." You reply, "Surprisingly nice one too."

"Ooh~ mind if I try it out?" Aya asks you, smiling.

"Sure," You reply, temporarily getting off so she could try it.

"Hm, it's nice." Aya muses, "Good find."

"How did you- why is there-?" Yuri stutters out, confused.

"Don't question the chair." You reply.

"Thou has found a seat in a desolate waste such as this?" Don asks, eyes shining.

"Appears so." Gregor adds, curious. Aya moves aside so you can go back on the chair.

"What is going on over there?" Vergilius' voice cuts through the chatter, and everyone looks over.

"[Name] appears to have found an armchair with minimal damage." Faust responds, "..."

Her silence is... unnerving.

Vergilius walks over, Dante right next to him.

"You... actually found a chair?"

"Yep, look at it." You say, gesturing at the chair made of fabric and metal and such. "I like the thing. It's a nice chair."

"...get off the chair and get going." Vergilius orders, and everyone goes with little verbal complaint.

You swear you see him contemplating the chair as you go into the warehouse, however.

...

Noob

They don't think much of it.

Really, they don't really mind someone else finding fondness for your company.

Though seeing how Taph looks relaxed and seeing how you two interact might give them enough confidence to interact with you.

Though maybe not now, not yet.

Elliot

He thinks Taph's effort to befriend you is useless.

He doesn't care about it though, seeing as he's not interested in engaging with you.

Though tried to tell Taph that you would never change. Taph left mid speech.

Shedletsky

He lets it be as it doesn't affect him much.

Though he's worried you would influence Taph to go against them all.

He tried to tell Taph to be wary, but bro idgaf with sunshine and rainbows.

Builderman

He's.. mixed feelings about it.

He's matured enough to not fuse over it though, can't say he's wary and petty.

Also to Taph.

Already thinking you might still have your hacking power to control Taph.

Bro get off Reader's ahh😭🙏

Dusekkar

He has no saying in it.

Though it gave him an opportunity to try and bond with you.

He's intrigued with you, so definitely a 3rd friend.

Chance

Honestly, he fw you.

They don't mind Taph befriending you, seeing as he too trying to befriend you but still hesitant.

Overall, second survivor friend.

Two time

He thinks you brainwashed Taph.

Hold grudges.

Vouch to sacrifice you in the name of the spawn.

Bro you got no friend, friendship is not that deep🤧

Guest 1337

He doesn't trust Taph anymore.

Though he has no say about it, just let it be as it doesn't affect him.

Other than that, he is glad you at least have someone to talk to, knowing if you didn't.. yeah. Bad things.

007n7

He's glad you have someone to talk to.

He wants to approach you and bond with you, though he's afraid others will hate him more due to it.

Just give him some time, he'll get to it.

Taph

What others think?

👉🗑️

He does not care and he loves you/p🤑

Maybe.

Note: