Devilish Fortune

Oscillating loyalty

Vergil stood up and leaned down close, "That's not an option out here Blooke, you think I or your cousin will be there every time someone fancy's a power trip? Don't be so foolish, you can fight, you're nearly as strong as Mettaton... But you hold back." The android began to mumble, too quiet for even Vergil to hear with his enhanced senses.

"I know... But we should not fight... Asgore told us that, don't you remember?" The memory of the crestfallen king was enough to stun Vergil into silence, his fists clenching.

Violence was an option... But never ideal, Blooke knew this yet... Never fought back against his detractors, some would think that he'd never be able to... But he knew differently, Vergil knew that somewhere in his soul... Blooke wanted to let go and face his fear.

"I... I'm sorry, I know you don't like talking about it... I'll try better next time, okay?"

That was enough, for now.

Nodding, Vergil pats him on the shoulder. "Good, now then... We must find anything we can on the Order, that ruffian from before was definitely a lower class member..." If it wasn't obvious by his pedantic rhetoric, as Blooke and Brandon pointed out much to his chagrin.

It was clear nothing would come of Crono, but he was their only lead so far on the inner workings of OTS. The order was an intricate network, an almost state apparatus acting under the guise of a simple religious defense organization, to uproot the weed one must find its roots... And those roots tied deeply into the history of Fortuna.

Blooke only nodded, "But he didn't seem to know me... Just that I was an SDT." Vergil hummed, slightly furrowing his brow.

'It was a blind form of tribalism... Yet it had to have come from somewhere...'

Which meant one thing... Either he was an outlier in the Order, or he represented a much more sinister plot...

The half-devil pulled up an old speech of the current chairman, Sanctus. "The current outlook on SDT's does not match their formerly vehement opposition to USF independence." The video in question displayed a younger Sanctus, the man was short, unbecoming, non-threatening... Yet even from an outdated video, you could see a glimpse of something darker in his eyes.

Especially with how he spoke of demons as expendable and as if their existence was an act against Sparda himself, when the SDT first reemerged at least.

Vergil was keen enough to notice, "And yet now suddenly, his arms are wide open... Foolish Sanctus." For the last week or so, Vergil has been researching day and night, joining up with Mettaton Napstablook on their investigation after repeatedly failing to find a trace of his brother Dante... Mettaton promised that if he helped him, Vergil would get all the Diva's resources in the goal of finding Dante.

At last...

The half-devil even searched his old town of Redgrave, coming across the old family home burned down as it was... And yet not a single trace of Dante, his bones, or his ashes... Only sightings of a white haired devil-hunter spurred Vergil on now, the only trace left...

Suddenly the door to the safehouse bursts open with Vergil standing up to his full height, the expectation to fight growing underneath his skin as a pyre, only to see Brandon standing there huffing and puffing with a terrified gaze etched across his feline features

The feline-devil raises a finger to catch his breath, "Creepy bald guy. outside. He's coming-"

As if an ice-cold wind had flushed through the room, a ghostly presence slipped in unannounced. Almost too quickly for even Vergil to prepare, a rare weariness.

Heavy footfalls foretell the arrival, "Ah... A Son of Sparda, in the flesh..." Quiet, unnerving, raspy, yet clear... A voice devoid of soul, or emotion, a husk of a being slips through the door. His face was scarred and lacking any humanity, slowly revealing himself through the shadows...