There was no escape, no matter how long he thought about it.
If he took the next step, everything would be lost. But if he followed the other plan, he might just manage it—though only with a great deal of patience. And even that plan, strictly speaking, was doomed to fail.
No matter how much Dante let his thoughts circle, they led nowhere. Even his immortality, which had saved him countless times from certain death on the battlefield, was of no use to him here.
"Dante, you should make your next move," Thomas said politely.
Dante lifted his gaze briefly to the old man, only to immediately stare back at the battlefield before him with growing despair. Damn it. Thomas was going to annihilate him completely.
"I need a moment," he muttered quietly.
The old butler chuckled. "You said that already five minutes ago, if my memory serves me."
Dante tapped his foot nervously.
He was feverishly searching for a new approach. In truth, he hadn't played badly, and just one round earlier, the situation had looked completely different. Damn it, there had to be some way to beat the old man!
Maybe he simply couldn't see the forest for the trees. Chess was just so much more complex than poker, and Thomas was like an impregnable fortress he wouldn't be able to overcome in twenty years.
Damn it, even in his time as a soldier he'd never faced such a difficult task.
"My dear Dante, I truly don't mean to rush you, but time is slowly running out," Thomas said in a calm, friendly voice. He took another sip of his tea; he showed no sign of hurry, and yet Dante felt unbearably stressed.
It was nearly midnight; they had been playing chess together for so long that the time had flown by. Still, he was more than aware that it was very late, and the old butler would normally have been asleep long ago—
if only Dante didn't take so long for his moves.
"No pressure," Dante whispered, more to himself than to Thomas.
He exhaled slowly. He would have to admit defeat—after all, he was going to lose anyway. It didn't matter whether it ended quickly or slowly. He decided to just end it quickly. He reached out for the king, ready to move it one square to the left, where it would be checkmate. But before his fingers could even touch the piece, Thomas made a disapproving sound.
"I'm truly grateful that you're not keeping an old man like me awake unnecessarily. But a victory simply handed to me is not one I enjoy—especially not when you still have plenty of ways to turn the tide."
Dante looked up into the kindly, wrinkled face and immediately felt guilty. Ever since Davis's death, he had played chess with Thomas so many times. Always to the bitter end—meaning, until he had lost. But he had never surrendered.
A smile played across his lips. He was absolutely going to lose, but if the old man still wanted to play, then he should have his fun. So Dante left his king where it was and moved his knight to defend the monarch on the next turn. Just like his queen, both rooks, and one remaining pawn.
Not an ideal position, but not the worst either. He just had to play smart.
"Please, your move," Dante finally said.
The butler's eyes lit up with amusement.
"Wonderful!" Thomas said with delight. He leaned forward slightly, seeming to relish analyzing the new situation.
Dante had to grin. "You really do seem to enjoy utterly destroying me."
Thomas returned the grin. "I love a good challenge. And believe me, you've learned an astonishing amount over the past few weeks."
"Thank you for the compliment, but honestly, I don't feel like I've improved much."
Thomas made his move, and immediately Dante was under pressure again. But he wasn't in checkmate yet. There was room to maneuver—tiny, but there.
"Oh, but you have," Thomas countered kindly. "Your thinking has grown clearer, and you make your decisions with more care. It's a pleasure to play against you."
Dante moved his rook, capturing one of the butler's bishops. A small victory, hardly worth mentioning, but it earned him an approving nod from Thomas.
"A truly good move," he said without the slightest trace of irony. Then came a soft sigh. "It's a pity we haven't managed more games together these past weeks."
Dante nodded. "Helios has been working late to get all the paperwork under control," he said, almost apologetically.
"Well, he always throws his heart and soul into his work, no matter how large or difficult the task," Thomas replied, a note of pride in his voice.
Dante wasn't sure whether Helios had really been working with heart and soul, considering how often he had cursed in recent weeks, so he only nodded. Thomas had often voiced his concern about Helios lately—saying that he worked too much and badly needed some time to rest.
He himself seemed to disapprove of what Vale demanded of Helios, even if he didn't show it openly.
All in all, he behaved more like a worried father than Dante had seen from Vale in recent weeks—except for the time after Helios had suffered the gunshot wound.
In truth, Thomas always acted that way whenever it concerned Helios. Dante wasn't really surprised; Helios had told him that Thomas had cared for him since early childhood.
Thomas's gaze wandered to the ticking wall clock.
"He seems to be very late again today," Dante said.
"He has a lot of work," Thomas replied evasively. "I only hope he'll be here on time tomorrow. After all, the evening gathering is taking place tomorrow."
Right, it was already that time.
"Don't worry, he only wanted to take care of a few things in the lab tomorrow and return early."
"That's reassuring to hear." Thomas nodded, but his expression hardened. Then he gave Dante a serious look. "I just pray it won't end as terribly as last time. I can't even bear the thought that he might not survive the next attack."
Dante noticed the old butler's hands trembling slightly. He reached out and took one of them to steady it.
"You're worrying too much. Even though he was injured, he's always survived so far—and I'd give my own life a thousand times over if it meant protecting him," Dante promised.
Thomas's eyes grew moist, but he forced a weak smile as he patted Dante's hand.
"I don't want to lose either of you," he whispered. "As long as my own short life lasts, I want to know that you're both safe—you and the young master."
Dante felt warmth spread through his chest. He really did like Thomas. At least Helios had someone steadfastly by his side. Even though this old butler ultimately served Vale and Dante therefore didn't blindly trust him—his care was genuine.
Thomas gave Dante's hand another pat, then made his next move.
"No harm will come to anyone. Tomorrow's evening gathering will go on as usual, and nothing bad will happen. The worst thing that will happen is that Helios will be more than bored. I'll make sure of that."
"I know, Dante, you're one of the good ones. Please—your move."
Dante turned his eyes back to the board in front of him, only to be confronted with the next problem. Oh damn, how was he supposed to get out of this one?
"This is unbearable to watch any longer," a tired voice suddenly sounded behind him.
Before Dante could react, a hand slid into his line of sight. The queen was moved two squares diagonally to the left—and in a single move, the game was decided.
"Checkmate," Helios announced calmly.
Thomas chuckled, his eyes lighting up as he looked at Dante.
"What a shame, I almost had you," Thomas said, though he seemed more amused than saddened by his defeat.
Dante stared at the board, frustrated with himself. "I can hardly call that a victory," he grumbled. It infuriated him that he hadn't seen that decisive move.
"You were really close to winning; I don't think you've ever been closer," the old butler said as he stood. "Have you eaten yet, young master?"
Dante stood and regarded Helios, who was exhaustedly standing behind him. It was already past midnight. The past few hours had flown by as if he had jumped through time.
Helios yawned heartily and nodded. "I just saw that there was still light on here. But I didn't expect to find you awake so late, Thomas."
The butler smiled gently. "I can hardly refuse a good game of chess."
"We should play against each other again soon, once I have a bit more time," Helios said, trying a tired smile. Another yawn escaped him.
"I would very much enjoy that," Thomas replied warmly. But when his eyes drifted to the wall clock, they widened. "Good heavens, it's really late. If you don't need anything else, I'll retire for the night."
"Sleep well, Thomas," Helios murmured.
Thomas looked at Helios for a moment, seeming like he wanted to say something, but then apparently decided against it.
"Sleep well, too," the old butler said with a smile. "Please remember to be back here on time tomorrow so you can prepare calmly for the evening gathering."
Helios sighed. "Of course. The evening gathering—how could I have forgotten such an extremely important event?" he said, slightly annoyed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. "Don't worry, I'll be back on time."
The old butler bowed and quietly left the room. Helios's tired gaze met Dante's.
"Let's go," was all he said.
He was silent as they walked back to their room.
"Everything okay?" Dante asked as he closed the door behind them.
Helios snorted. "Spider has reported in," he said in a voice that made Dante perk up. Helios's tone didn't sound particularly reassuring.
"About the Wallace thing?"
Helios nodded. "Most likely. He just sent a brief note saying I should take care of myself."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Nothing else?"
"Nothing else."
"Wait a minute," Dante said, raising the other brow. "How did he even reach you? Does he know where you are?"
A cold spark appeared in Helios's eyes, but he shook his head firmly. "Of course not. When I arrived here, one of his little informants gave a signal. My escort brought me to my room as usual—after that, I went back alone to pick up the message." He reached into his pocket and handed Dante a small, folded slip of paper.
"Take care of yourself tomorrow. – S"
Dante turned the note over, but, as expected, there was nothing else written on it. It shouldn't have surprised him—but it still unsettled him.
"Damn it, so he found something out."
Helios nodded. "However, since I haven't really been doing my normal work these past few days, he had no way of getting the information properly to me."
He stripped down to his underwear, threw on a shirt and sweatpants, and finally collapsed onto his bed. Dante changed as well and sat down beside him.
Helios made a dismissive wave of his hand.
"No matter what happens, it won't go like last time," he said reassuringly. He rolled onto his side and stroked Dante's thigh. "As long as no one sees me healing my wounds, everything should go smoothly. Oh! Provided nobody kills me and I'm not immortal after all."
"Don't say it like you don't care," Dante said softly.
"I do care," Helios assured him. "But there's nothing I can do if it comes to that."
Dante ran his fingers through Helios's hair. "Then we can't let it come to that."
He was worried about Spider's message.
"Do you think something will happen tomorrow?" he voiced his concern.
Helios shrugged wearily. "Who knows?"
Dante sat beside Helios on the bed. "You look tired."
Helios sighed, annoyed. "I'm just surrounded by idiots."
It had been two weeks since Helios had agreed to take over the Sentinel Project. Originally, he had planned to go there a maximum of three times a week, but he ended up going almost every day. He claimed there was too much to do, the people there were completely incompetent, the documentation was once again disastrous, and yet it was still difficult to plant false leads to make the project fail.
Helios was under constant observation and had less freedom than he had previously demanded. Every evening, no matter how tired he was or how exhausting the day had been, he told Dante what he had done there.
"Have you made progress?"
He nodded wearily. "I was able to convince them to sedate the test subjects when trying something. I analyzed two of the formulas and modified them so they wouldn't strain the body too much. Unfortunately, even these compounds will still harm them," he explained, rubbing his face. "I just can't change things so that nothing happens."
"You're doing your best," Dante said gently.
"I promised you that, after all," Helios murmured. A smile crept onto his lips. "I can hardly wait to see Father's expression when he finds out there's no chance of getting this drug."
He said it with such satisfaction that Dante smiled too. Helios really was putting in the effort, and every evening he proved how hard he was trying. Dante knew he gave it his all, and it comforted him to know Helios was safe in his arms at night.
Vale had left Helios largely alone over the past two weeks. At least, Helios hadn't mentioned anything suggesting that his father had pressured him in any particular way or personally monitored him.
While Helios was taken to the secret facility, Vale, as usual, went with Thomas to the company to fulfill his part of the agreement.
Vale wanted this drug at any cost. Damn, he seemed to want it so badly that he even kept Helios's mother waiting for it. Dante could understand why Helios was so diabolically looking forward to the moment when Vale's plans would completely backfire.
He himself could hardly wait.
"Let me be there when you set off the bomb."
"With the greatest pleasure," Helios murmured, smiling.
"Lio?"
"Hm?"
"Wouldn't you rather rest tomorrow before the event?"
"I'd like to spend my time on more enjoyable things than work," he said with a sigh. "But right now, it's important to show absolute perfection. I can't let up if my plan is to succeed. One mistake could sow distrust. Distrust leads to more control from Father and less freedom for me."
"Less freedom would mean less time for us and also unpredictable variables regarding the project. I understand."
"Admirable, as always, how much brain is packed into this muscular body."
Helios's mumbled, amused words made him laugh.
"I should probably prove my intelligence to you more often, since you keep forgetting."
"I never forget anything," Helios snorted. Shortly after, Dante heard his steady breathing.
His thoughts worked tirelessly. He could not fight the nausea that gnawed at his insides. An attack at the evening gathering would be disastrous in many ways—whether Helios was obviously injured or even killed. Both were unacceptable.
Dante would make sure Helios was safe. He would have his hands full keeping an eye on all the guests present.
Gently, he kissed Helios's forehead.
His wounds healed faster than Dante's, but he still felt pain, just as Dante did. He would do everything to protect him.
"I love you, Lio," he whispered. "No one will hurt you."
As the night deepened and the shadows grew longer, Dante swore to himself that he would keep this promise at any cost.
He was Helios's shield, his warrior. Nothing and no one would be able to harm him.