Dante stepped off of the Albatross and was greeted by Blakovich, “You sly dog! You didn't tell me you had a cute young squeeze!” “I don't.” “Oh come on, Blakovich knows better. Come, let's see her! She's been waiting patiently for so long!” The plump rhino was oddly insistent. “Didn't take you for a romantic.” He shrugged, “Too much violence and not enough romance is no way to live a life my friend. Not to mention that your little plan really sealed the deal for us. Ruined the DMC throroughly, now we don't have to fear them. After your little, ahem, 'meeting' we'd like to talk with you about organizing a few things around here.” The metallic interior speckled with rust was calm for a free port, and the smell of antiseptic and stale paint filled the air, “Rennovations?” “You know it! We're not going to let ourselves become just another target again! First step is to make things nice and pretty. Then the fortifications underneath.” Dante sighed, “If this was a story, I'd be worried about foreshadowing. Fortify all important and necessary motors, engines, and generators immediately. Any information leaks will make this place a target for every mercenary company out there.” “Oh, uh, right, right. By the way, why so many guns? She's just a young lady.” Dante took a moment to look around. A few drunks, but nobody really about. Empty and quiet, especially for the inbound shipping area, “If you're leading me into a trap knowingly, I'll kill you and everyone you know. Just so we're clear.” Blakovich seemed nervous, not in a guilty way though, “Tell Barnabia to investigate all newcomers and this list.” He handed over a tiny scrap of paper. Blakovich saw nothing but gibberish, “Alright, can do Captain Dante. Oh, here she is, in this room. Not sure why she wanted an empty one, but I didn't feel like asking questions.” “I may look to you for your ship soon, but with that sort of idiot attitude I may have to look up a few old contacts instead.” “Why? Got a job for my old shipping unit?” “Maybe. I just need the signal. Shit's going down Blakovich. And it's going down fast.” Dante opened the sliding door, stepped inside, and let it shut, “Finally!” A young girl, fair skinned, long pointed ears, and large eyes. She was wearing what Dante imagined to be an oversized doll dress. Not human, but not far off from a glance, “Who are you?” “I need you for my collection!” “Not creepy at all.” Dante drew his pistol and took aim, “But sorry, I'm not a collectible. Now I'll ask once more, who are you?” “You will sit perfect on my shelf!” She pulled out a metal disc, which expanded in an instant to take the shape of a small cannon. Dante made the mistake of trying to figure out how the weapon did that instead of returning fire. Before he knew it, two needles imbedded themselves into his shoulders, one glowing bright green, the other glowing bright yellow, “Now behave dolly!” Dante was pulled against the back wall with such incredible force that he was sure at least one rib cracked. The air was forced from his body and his shoulders ached like they was about to disconnect, “Gravity...” The girl fired another needle, glowing a very bright red, into his stomach. At this point, the pain of the impaling was nothing compared to the force of being slammed into a wall with an unknown, but obviously excessive, gravitational force, “Smile pretty!” With another pull of her trigger, Dante was slammed into the ground, embedding the needle fully into his body. He was dazed and couldn't entirely focus, but he did notice that after each pull of the trigger the needles ceased to glow, “Limited function. Blood. Lots of blood.” There was pounding in his head, or at the door. He didn't know which, “Still alive? Aw, we can't have that!” Two more needles, one in each hand. Then one into each calf muscle. The glow was dimming, but the pain was more prevalent. Dante was lifted into the air, only a few feet, the dropped to the ground. Normally this wouldn't hurt, but his injuries were becoming too severe. “You bitch...” “So rude! I can't have a rude dolly!” She took aim. She fired another needle, which Dante was able to reflexive knock away. His pistol was in his reach, so he did his best to grab it. The pain was unbearable, but he persisted only to see a needle pierce the pistol and make it go flying somewhere else. Wasted effort to the ignorant, but in reality a plan. The needle that pierced the gun didn't glow as brightly even though it was the only one to fire. The gun's energy source was weakening, but even still Dante's body had a limit, “Listen up.” He coughed out a large amount of blood. “Oh, you wanna say something? Most dollies don't.” He smirked through the pain and fading vision, “You will die by my hand, this I promise. It won't be today, maybe not tomorrow, but I will make you suffer, I will make your family suffer, your friends suffer, your client suffer, and so on. Let's begin.” Dante pulled an angel grenade from his belt and pulled out the regulator wire, a trick he learned on the field, “What's that dolly?” “A going away present, enjoy...” he struggled to maintain consciousness, “Third degree burns.” With the last of his strength, he rolled the sphere forward and watched it detonate at the girl's feet. She screamed like a banshee, a comfort to Dante who now fell into a deep sleep. Time had passed, of this he was sure. A white room, a hospital bed, various beeps from machines, “Doctor! He's awake!” Victoria's voice, her image hidden by a blinding light. “Captain Dante! Can you hear me?!” A male voice, experienced but kind. “... awake...” It was hard to speak, “... drugs?” “You can tell, that's a good sign. More that usual, but your situation is... complicated. No permanent damage expected, so be happy about that. We can't put you in a tube until you're more stable. Can you feel pain?” “... little...” “Alright, if that becomes too much let someone know. We'll up the dosage. You were lucky, your vital signs haven't been too wild, you must have a guardian angel somewhere. I'll take my leave for a moment. Victoria here will inform me of any changes.” “Dante, I apologize. I was not able to enter the room as soon as Blakovich shouted. The door was shut from a remote location, no doubt the assassin made sure of it.” The light dimmed a bit and he could make out some shapes. He took a breath, and though his voice was weak and it hurt to talk, he couldn't hold back, “Black technology base. Tell Angel immediately.” He had done research in his younger days, and the only thing that came to mind was a large scale weapon that used gravity as an attack. It was immediately labeled as black technology as soon as the chance of a black hole forming was determined to be around 43.3%. The weapon was disassembled, each blueprint, photograph, and component destroyed. Only written word exists as its proof, and even then the details were left out. The assassin's weapon used the same principles, but in a much more limited state. Which Dante thought about the weapon, Victoria had relayed the information, “Done. How can I make you more comfortable Dante?” “How do I look?” Her shape was blurry, but the awkward head tilt was still perceived, “Like... a bruise. Internal bleeding all over and 100 shattered bones. Did you get her name? I will track her down.” “That's my job. You go get some food. Or drink. Take a break. Sitting around won't do you much good.” “I failed to protect you, I failed in my vows. Dante, this is penance.” Dante couldn't sigh, but he wanted to, “Then go eat something greasy that'll hurt your insides. I don't like pity.” “Very... very well. I won't be gone long Dante.” She stood up and left the room. Dante enjoyed the brief moment of solitute for a few moments, but he was never one to ignore instinct, “Here to finish the job, elf?” “Not quite.” Compared to the shrill voice of the young girl, this woman's voice was as fine as silk. She lowered a hood, not that it made much difference to Dante, and sat where Victoria had sat, “Oh, I see my cousin did a number on you. Most die to her little toy.” “This cousin have a name? I have a date with her.” “Call her The Doll Collector. I don't approve of her hobbies, but she does enjoy them so.” “And you? I have a date with you once I'm done with her.” She smirked. The red lipstick stood out over her pale complexion, “I don't believe you're in my book dear human. I merely came to see the legend himself, a survivor where no other man survived. This is not your first miracle, and it certainly won't be your last. I never thought you'd be so... manly.” “Why not just finish me off? Not like I can fight back.” “I only finish contracts for which I am paid. Whoever hired my cousin was not willing to pay my price, which from all accounts is higher than for you. I never fail.” “Cocky little bitch, aren't you?” Her face twisted a bit, “Rude, human. You should learn how to talk to a lady sometime. It is a valuable skill. I am known as The Keeper. My specialty is close range. If you plan on attacking me, I feel it is best you know how you will die.” “I'd laugh, but it would hurt too much. You aren't a threat to me, neither is your cousin. This was a tactical maneuver.” “Says the man on the edge of death.” Dante knew what he was doing, he was drawing out the real attacker, the client behind the hit, “Not like you'd understand tactics. Jump in and cut, that's all you do. Leave the thinking to the big players.” “A taunt, in your condition? You are mad, aren't you?” “So I've been told.” Dante's vision was slowly returning, “But it seems that I'm the one that survives.” The details were more clear, and from a blurry glance she appeared to be very attractive, even with a snarl, “Pray that I never get a contract for your life.” She stood up. Dante chuckled in spite of the pain, “Oh, I'm not worried. You're just another notch on my gun and another kill in the records.” The Keeper left the room. A few moments passed, “I'll take pleasure in killing you.” Her footsteps faded down the hallway. “You get that Star?” Miss Star was in the corner, cloaked and listen, “Yup, got all that forwarded to Barnabia and Liasteri. Not very bright of her.” “Assassins are one trick ponies. Only ever see part of the picture. Get Sere on a new rifle too, my main was broken when my spine crushed it. Pistol wouldn't hurt either.” Star nodded, “Got it, she'll be happy to work on something flashy.” Dante grumbled, “Not flashy, useful. Practical. Deadly. Can't run around a battlefield with a sparkler.” “Bayonet? I heard she wanted to utilize the tech she used for Victoria's sword in other projects.” Victoria entered the room, “Well, it would seem that my leaving led to a great deal of information. And yes, Sere has been drooling over the success of my new sword.” A lightweight blade the length of which was equal to her imposing stature, and built in Angel Technology made it deadlier than most guns. “Ugh. More morphine. She's gonna give me some weird gun that shoots five bullets in different directions or something.” “Probably~!” Miss Star turned on her cloak again, “By the way, you turn a lot in your sleep Dante.” “Man like me has his nightmares. Don't worry about it.” Miss Star was frowning as cutely as she could, “Well now I have to worry about it! Tell me!” Dante dreamed of his past often. Mostly of his failures and those that died. Former allies turned enemies, enemies that were shown no mercy, and the innocent that didn't deserve to die because of another's conflict. Very few peaceful nights would visit him, and alcohol did little to dull that pain. Every now and then Ratchet would stop by, his confidant, to comfort him, and a soft, warm body next to him at night was a great relief. Being known as a legendary monster or hero was lonelier than most would imagine. Dante reached up to the IV and increased the drip, “No, I don't want you having nightmares too. You're too innocent Star, stay that way.” She pouted, “I've killed my share of bad guys too, I'm not all innocent.” That was the problem, a reason she couldn't understand. They weren't fighting 'bad guys' or the evil, they were fighting enemies. Enemies that believed they were in the right, and if Dante was asked about some previous missions, he would have agreed, “Star, don't look at things in black and white. See things in gray. Sometimes we're the bad guys.” Victoria nodded, “There is never a good and bad. Only a winner and a loser. While it is ideal to be a winner, that doesn't mean you did anything worth bragging about.” She led a group of bandits to fight a government, she would understand. Star shrugged, “Fine, well, I'll do some surveillance outside of the room, you two play nice.” Dante shut his eye, “At least I'm not one of her dolls. Can't imagine what her home looks like.” “Hmm?” “The assassin's name, The Doll Collector. Guess she uses that gravity gun to pose her prey. Bizarre. Hell, she'd probably fit in on the Albatross.” Victoria shook her head, “I doubt it. Her room would start smelling of corpses before long.” “A joke? From you?” “Jean tells me I'm too uptight and I scare Kiya.” The lamia did frighten easy, “That giant sword you carry around doesn't help.” “Message from Blakovich incoming. It would appear that our help is requested as soon as you are able.” “Victoria, you need to turn down your communicator, I don't need to hear everything Angel says from her mouth.” Victoria fumbled with the earpiece that sat in her lap, “I apologize. From what I can tell, Fallen Sky may try to take the role of the DMC soon. Striking the Black Legion fast would make that all but impossible.” Dante nodded slightly, “Yep, Liasteri figured that out too. Keep your enemies down, even indirectly. Then you can take what you want for yourself.” “Are you... flirting?” Dante didn't think so, “Not sure. Most of the time I'm the one pinned down or trapped in a corner. Don't think I know how to flirt.”