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Leaving the underworld suddenly seemed so much more daunting.
The moment Nero had leapt from his balcony to the depths of Tartarus below, an orb holding a... pink heart, of all things, was before him. Nyx had told him he would be receiving help from his many mysterious relatives, but... well, Vergil wouldn't be caught alive with pink fucking hearts in his House. Nero was almost afraid that touching this... 'boon' would render a curse instead.
Well. Nothing for it. Nero stepped forward and placed his hand on the orb. "In the name of Hades!" The underworld seemed to shudder, a gong sounding somewhere just out of reality. "Olympus, I accept this message." The orb's godly glow intensified, and the voice (and unfortunate visage) of a god appeared.
"Hey, kid!" An entirely nude man, save for some golden arm adornments and... was that- more pink hearts? On his fucking-
"Heard you're tryin' to scram from your old man's place. Here, have my blessing. See you soon!" A saucy wink, and then the message was gone. Of course, the first one he encounters is his father's least favorite. Vergil's twin brother, Dante, God of Love. Nero could already feel Vergil seething. A point in Dante's favor. If only he wasn't so... ugh. Pink, of all colors.
Nero looked closer at the offering. The options weren't... bad, by any means, but... ugh. Maybe he could just, y'know, try on his own for a bit? No outside help? Yeah, sure. Sounded better than... Hades, why was his uncle so fucking weird? Nero had never seen anyone so... that.
Well, all of Tartarus laid before him. Not to mention Asphodel, and Elysium... He could worry about his weird, estranged uncle later.
-
"...Are you not equipping that boon?" V gestured to the orb on Nero's waist. Yes, Nero still had it. A couple dozen escape attempts and he still wasn't sure what to do with the damn thing. Dante hadn't offered anything since, and, well, it was kind of a waste to just throw it away...
"No." Nero huffed. "Wanna trade?" He asked, hopefully. If he could just forget about-
"No." Nero felt himself slump and cursed mentally. "What are you doing with it then?"
"I... I'm not sure? It's just... I dunno. He's..." Nero couldn't begin to formulate the words to describe his mix of embarrassment and confusion. Really, what the hell was he supposed to do with this? Love, in Hades? A joke, really. After seeing Orpheus and Kyrie? Death was anathema to Love, and to Nero's chagrin, he was of Death. This boon didn't belong with him at all. And really, pink hearts?
"Sell it to Morrison, then, and be done with it." V drawled. And, yeah, Nero could do that, but... it seemed kind of... mean. Just... sell his uncle's offer of help? Little slights like that were all too common among his relatives, and maybe had driven his father to his current state. Nero wanted to be different, be better. And to do that, he needed to get out. He hadn't even made it to Elysium yet! That fucking bone hydra...
"...Maybe I'll... give it a shot? I guess it was a gift..." Nero scowled at the orb. Credo had taught him manners, damn it all, and by Hades he wouldn't disrespect his mentor. He could just use it, and never see Dante again. He hadn't sent any new boons, after all. He probably wouldn't send any more. And that ability, Heartbreak Strike, sounded useful. "Fuck it." Nero activated the boon. Red Queen hummed, flashing that abominable godly pink before quieting. V vanished, probably to give a status update to Vergil and whatever, maybe visit Chimera. He had always been fond of the left head, Griffon. Nero preferred Phantom, on the right.
Nero shook his head. He was maybe halfway through Asphodel. Maybe he'd visit Kyrie, and then have another crack at the damned hydra Vergil set in the way. Beating Nevan at the end of Tartarus was getting easier every time. Lady, Goddess of War, and Trish, Goddess of Thunder had already granted him power this run. No way would Nero lose.
-
Nero finally beat the Hydra. He was not, however, prepared for the exploding fucking chariots, what the fuck Vergil?! Who does that?
Well, back to the blood pool. Back to snide comments from Vergil about how inept and foolish Nero was (and how did he not see this was why Nero had to leave? He couldn't endure another goddamn minute of this! No wonder mother fucking left). Back to giving Phantom a rub (seeing that single eye crease in delight never got old), quiet support from Nyx, a quick (depressing) conversation with Orpheus about Kyrie. Patty was once again cleaning the halls, and vanished at Nero's approach (was he really that scary?). The House never seemed to change, though Credo was absent, at Vergil's call probably.
Nero could feel himself shriveling here. The weight of the underworld seemed so crushing (or was it Vergil's disapproval, his distaste for his own son that was so much to bear?). He couldn't stay here. He wouldn't.
Another leap from the balcony, cracking the ancient stone, and... really? Fucking for real? Another orb with a pink goddamn heart. Dante had apparently... known he used the boon? And was, what, encouraged? Fuck. Should Nero just walk past it? But that Heartbreak Strike had really come in handy...
Oh, blood and darkness, fine. One more time.
"Kid! You're back!" Dante's... charming visage and gleeful tone were not music to Nero's ears. He was not a kid! "Wondered what you were doing down there. Well, if you're still set on coming topside, here." Of course he was still fucking leaving, not Nero's fault Vergil was a rat fuck bastard with exploding goddamn chariots- oh. An... even better Heartbreak Strike? Holy shit, for a God of Love Dante didn't fuck around. What was Wave of Despair? Well, maybe another time. Nero chose Heartbreak Strike and briefly regretted it, considering the horrific pink glow inflicted on Red Queen. At least it wasn't permanent.
Alright, time for... run 28. Maybe this would be the one.
-
Run 28 was not the one. Neither was Run 29. Or 30. Or...
Nero really hated Baul and Modeus. Well, really just Baul. Modeus was kind of chill actually. But Baul was... Ugh. Such a goddamn prick. Just like Vergil.
Dante, contrary to Nero's expectations (and wishes), continued to show up. In every run, really, since Nero started accepting the boons. Always with some kind of joke, or one-liner, or painfully kind sentiment (thankfully the latter was rare, or Nero would've burst into flames even outside of Asphodel). Nero wasn't... shit, he didn't get this from anyone in Hades. Griffon was the only one with a sense of humor (unless you counted Morrison being amused by making money off of poor bastards like Nero), and it wasn't much of one. Some of Dante's shitty jokes actually made Nero want to laugh, and... when was the last time he had laughed? At anything?
It seemed like every time Nero was discouraged, beaten down for the umpteenth time by some long-dead warrior or monster, and ultimately shit on by his father, Dante would crop up and get his mind off it. It was... nice. Dante was nice. To Nero, of all people.
Weird.
Nero... started to kind of look forward to his uncle's messages. The boons were always surprisingly helpful and/or devastating. What had Orpheus said? The God of Love is the most dangerous of them all? Nero thought he was just pining for Kyrie again, but maybe he was serious. Nero wished he could send a message back. Then, it hit him. Couldn't he send him like, Nectar? Nero had collected tons of 'contraband' (Vergil's strict "no fun of any kind" policy made for a lot of illegal stashes Nero happened upon) and given some to Phantom, Credo, Nyx... why not Dante?
Nero died to Bael (motherfucking son of a bitch) on his next run, but wasn't terribly disappointed. Bael hadn't looked too smug with his armor cleaved in half, after all. And Nero could implement his plan! For the... fifth? time, Dante's boon was the first Nero found. And before Dante's message could even begin, Nero concentrated and held out the bottle of Nectar. "Um... Lord Dante," Fuck, Credo had taught him formality, but it was still hard, "please accept this offering. I... appreciate your help." Fuck, Nero could feel himself blushing. Hades, he was bad at this.
"Well, thanks, kid! I'm flattered." Dante's grin seemed even brighter than usual. "How 'bout this? I've always liked reciprocity. Take it, and my boon." In Nero's hand appeared a beautiful, blooming red rose, thorns and all. The same color as the rose in Dante's hair.
"Thank you... it, um. Red suits you." Fuck, shit. Why did he say that? Thank Hades Dante couldn't hear him.
...Or, Nero thought, as Dante's good-natured laugh echoed in his ears, maybe he could.
Well. Luckily, he could just die here and not have to worry about being embarrassed for a while. Maybe the shades in Tartarus had upped their game?
-
Nero died again, after killing Bael. Modeus was apparently chill up until his brother was beaten, and then it was a no-good-very-bad time. But he still had Dante's... gift? Keepsake? At least something had come out of that trip. Nero pulled himself from the pool, shedding blood effortlessly. He carefully tucked the crimson rose behind his ear. Vergil was out this time, thank Hades for that, Nero wasn't in the mood. Although... Weren't there some decoration options available? Nero had plenty of gems; he hadn't seen the point in decorating a House he had come to hate, but perhaps...
Nero walked to the construction desk. The shades eyed him warily, but accepted his request (and gems, mainly the gems) to renovate the house. Some beautiful roses, a new rug for Phantom and company, and... yeah, better fix the lounge, huh.
Nero was low on gems, but grinned as he watched the changes take place. A little nod to Dante in the House, an expression of appreciation Nero knew would go unseen by the intended audience, but no matter. Nero liked roses more than lilacs anyways, Vergil could eat shit. Nero felt so... what was it, light? Like the weight on his shoulders wasn't so great after all. Or maybe, just maybe, someone else was shouldering it too. Maybe, Nero could tell Dante about the new interior decor next time they met. With the Eternal Rose, Nero could feel their meeting fast approaching, and he had Nectar to spare.
Dante seemed delighted, though whether it was more for the Nectar or the redecorating was unclear. "That's fantastic kid, thanks! Oh, I would pay to see Vergil's face!" Nero felt himself smile against his will.
"Why's he so bent out of shape about you, anyways?" Nero asked quickly. He wasn't sure how long this connection would last, and really, how could Vergil hate Dante so much? But at the question, Dante's smile fell a little. "Eh, long story. I'll tell you later, okay? When you get here."
"...Alright." Nero nodded, Dante's image fading. At least it wasn't a "don't ask", or a finely phrased "shut the fuck up," like Vergil would provide. Nero was more than used to people not telling him anything important. It... hurt, a little, but it was fine. Nero was surprised Dante had even humored him at all. As Vergil's heir, he was meant to be seen and not heard, to silently obey, to devote himself to being anything but himself. Credo, V, Nevan, his closest compatriots, his supposed fucking family- they had all spurned him at one point or another for not falling in line. The only one who hadn't was Nyx. Hades, Dante didn't even know Nero. What if he found out more and decided Vergil was right? Dropped him like satyr shit for being unworthy, unruly...
Fuck. If Nero kept thinking like this, he would throw himself into the Lethe like Patroclus seemed to want to, sometimes. Nero wanted to, sometimes, too. Just... forget how much his father hated him, become the blank slate Vergil wanted so much and die in all the ways that mattered. How much time had he spent, sitting next to Patroclus in silent understanding? To kill the pain, but lose everything. It hurt to even contemplate. Credo would kill him for thinking like this (but Credo couldn't help him, could he). There was a reason even the gods feared the rivers of the underworld. The binding Styx, the searing Phlegethon, the eroding, restful, peaceful Lethe...
Nero shook his head. Time was wasting. If Dante spurned him... when had Dante started to mean so much anyways? What did it matter? Nero would get out of Hades and find his own damn worth; his relatives be damned.
-
"Your incompetent attempts to leave burden everyone! You're a disgrace to this House and you are not worthy of being my son!" Vergil roared, the room flashing a dark blue, rose petals falling from wilting flowers. Nero choked on his rebuttal, even as Nyx yelled back, flexing her own violet-shaded power over the house in fury. Nevan and Credo, standing to the side, recoiled in fear from the argument, looking at Nero as the House shuddered. Accusing, condemning, Nero was- he- he had never-
-unworthy disgrace stupid worthless unworthy unworthyunworthyunworthy-
-
Tartarus was quiet. The eternal trickling of the Styx through grates and across old stone was settling. How many times had Nero fled to the realm of the damned? Slipping through the (painful) passages of nebulous Chaos that Nero did not touch to escape, keeping secret knowledge secret from Vergil's watchful eyes whenever Nero made his gambits to leave Hades entirely. Cowering behind pots, hidden from everything from shades to the very gods. No one expected him to choose the lowest depths of Hades as his hiding place. As a child, Nero had once hidden in Tartarus for years, escaping the supposed all-seeing of both Vergil and Nyx, heedless of the calls of V and Credo when they searched, ducking Nevan's patrols. Pretending that he was just a shade, some sinner with no salvation, was somehow better than being Nero, son of Vergil, a God in his own right (but with no domain, no authority, no value). Only Nyx's eventual, desperate pleas echoing throughout all of Hades had swayed him to reveal himself, but not his hiding places, not the liminal passages he wasn't supposed to be aware of. How many times had he wandered all of Hades in secret, all the way up to the entry gate itself, disguised as one of the countless dead, skipping from plane to plane with Chaos' strange, costly (but welcomed) aid? Anyone would ask why he hadn't simply escaped this way. Nero couldn't fully explain it. If he was going to escape, it felt... right, to go out in fire and blood.
Now, Nero was once again that scared child, hidden from a father that would never, could not possibly love him. No one could love him. He was unworthy. He was- he should, the Lethe-
Nero stood, emerging from gilded urns and pleaded silently for a passage, a shortcut. No hole appeared; Chaos denied him. Okay. Fine. Nero didn't have his sword, or any weapon, besides the spectral arm he could cast, but he had more than enough experience in being a nobody. If a nameless shade wanted to visit the colosseum in Elysium, no one would bat an eyelid as long as there was no paperwork mandating he stay in a lower plane. And dear father always complained about records being incomplete, about dead not being recorded. He had made no attempt at escape, had not leapt from his balcony. They would not be expecting him, Nyx would not have paved his path with any boons sent from above.
Nero wasn't trying to escape. It was over.
A shade's cloak was an easy find, many simply moldered against dull stone walls, unseeing from an eternity of ennui. Suppressing himself, focusing on not-focusing, not being, was old hat. Walking at a slow, hopeless pace was the hardest part, if only because Nero was hopeful that his despair-fueled next action would fix everything. But Nero managed, passing through Tartarus. Asphodel, aflame and in some places adrift, he could walk with slightly more purpose. He avoided Kyrie. There was no point in saying goodbye. He tried calling to Chaos again, and again there was no answer. Nero scoffed and continued, sailing across the Phlegethon on a rocky barge to a... fountain room. A rarity, and especially welcome in fiery Asphodel. Nero felt his face contort into a bitter smile. A test run, for his dip in the Lethe, perhaps? Other shades populated it, mostly along the sides, grateful for the respite. Walking further in, Nero felt the rose tucked against his scalp hum. The back of the room, on a pedestal, held a stray boon from Dante.
Nero wanted to laugh. Him, the unlovable, encountering of all gods, his uncle. Well. Perhaps... perhaps a goodbye after all? Return the rose. Nero wasn't worthy of it, and it would surely wash away when Nero was gone. Nero plucked the rose from his head and touched the orb. The gong-like noise of Dante answering filled the fountain room. "Hey, kid! I-"
"Lord Dante, I'm sorry. Please, here, I can't-" fuck, his voice was cracking, why did it hurt so much- "take it back, I'm not... I'm worthless. I'm... I have to go. You won't have to see me ever again."
"Nero, hey, Nero wait, what's wrong baby boy," Nero sobbed, his fucking heart, why was this so hard? "Just talk to me, I'm here for you, tell me-"
"I can't, it- please. Just let me die." He begged. Let it end, let it all just stop.
The room was dead silent. The orb was still active, the rose still offered in Nero's hand, but it seemed like even the water had stopped flowing. The shades had vanished. That was it, wasn't it, Dante was-
"No."
Nero recoiled. "What? You- you don't understa-"
"Nero." Nero's mouth shut at Dante's tone, dead serious for the first time since they had met. "You aren't worthless, baby boy, okay? Whoever told you that, whatever they said, they were wrong kid. You're beautiful."
He couldn't- he wasn't- that wasn't... true?
"The rose is yours forever, Nero. I gave it to you, because you deserve it. You deserve to get out of there, you deserve to be happy, and you deserve to be loved baby boy. Okay?" Dante's tone, infinitely gentle, infinitely genuine, broke Nero's heart all over again. He sobbed, felt his tears drip onto the stone, and clutched the Eternal Rose to his chest.
"I got you, kid. I've got your back. If you ever feel like that again, find my boons. I'll send so many you'll get sick of me." Nero smiled, wobbly but there.
"As if I could ever get sick of you, old man." Nero croaked, struggling to speak, needing this.
"Hey! I'm not that old!"
"Ancient. Geriatric. Probably made of dust." Nero warbled, swallowing the pain in his throat, breathing through tears. It was worth it, hearing Dante laugh.
"There's the little punk-ass I'm used to. Alright kid, you ready to leave? Vamoose? Skedaddle? Mosey? Amscra-"
"Shut up already," Nero rolled his eyes, scrubbing his face. "I mean, I don't... I'm not exactly... equipped? I didn't plan on... anything, really."
"No sword? No problem! You ever punch people kid?" Dante grinned, eyes sparkling. Nero blinked. "...Yes?" Credo had taught him unarmed combat, but what was that going to do against-
"Perfect. Here, I'll let you take my weapon for a spin!"
"Wait, what-" With a flash of pink, Nero's hands and forearms were covered in gauntlets. Beautiful, spiky silver gauntlets with pink-orange swirls dancing across the surface.
"...Why pink?"
"It's my color! Well, kind of. It's a shade of red, after all. Anyways, you just punch your way out of there, and I'll be waiting on the other side. Easy-peasy!" Dante crowed, looking self-satisfied.
"...You make it sound easier than it is, but, alright," Nero took a deep breath, "I'll... give it a shot."
"You can do it, kid. Aren't I great incentive?" Dante flexed his considerable muscles, grinning.
"Maybe if you had fucking pants on," Nero shot back. A mistake, because Dante immediately leered.
"What, you like what you see, baby boy?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Nero snapped, as red as the rose in his hair. Dante laughed, waved, and vanished.
...Okay. Last call, last run. Once more unto the breach. Etcetera etcetera. Nero flexed his fingers, the gauntlets moving with him seamlessly. He felt... warm. And it wasn't the fucking Phlegethon.
"Alright. I'll see you soon, Dante."