A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: The Deathless Fortress]

Morgan's revelation lingered in the air long after she had departed, settling over Dante and Tamamo. They walked the dim, steel-lined corridor of the fortress in silence—his boots thudded against the dull floor and the sound of Tamamo-no-Mae's nine golden tails swaying filled the air. She perched on his shoulder with her usual casualness, as though the heavy atmosphere had yielded.

The Mortifer had given them time to think. To breathe and consider the offer to join the Retorta Guild.

Tamamo was the first to break the quiet.

"Hm~ Quite the revelation dropped on us," she murmured with a flick of an ear. "I can't decide if I'm impressed, alarmed, or mildly offended that a Keeper's avatar has been strolling around under our noses."

"It is important to gather more information before deciding on a course of action. It would be more efficient." Dante replied.

Tamamo smirked. "And here I thought you didn't care for efficiency unless it involved stabbing something." Tamamo mused. "With your hand of course."

"It tends to solve problems faster."

"Not mine." She tapped his helm with a claw. "I'm immune to your moody brooding."

"That is not something to be proud of."

"It absolutely is," she countered. "I consider myself a professional Dante-handler at this point. I should get a badge or something."

"A concerning title."

"And yet accurate."

Dante didn't dignify that with a response. She continued, undeterred.

"But for an avatar of a Keeper to walk this realm," she repeated more softly, tone shifting. "Makes you wonder what else we've missed. What else is hiding in plain sight."

"Even so," Dante said, "I doubt this individual is the sole reason for the guild's confidence."

"No, fair enough." She sighed dramatically. "But having a Seraphim and a Demi-God on their roster certainly doesn't hurt."

"I recall you being unimpressed earlier."

"That was before I remembered angels on that tier can bisect realities if they feel like it." Tamamo's tails flicked. "I'd rather not get sliced into conceptual ribbons. It's messy."

Dante gave a quiet, dry exhale that could almost be called a laugh. She pounced on it.

"Oh? Did the great Dante just acknowledge humor? I should mark this day."

"That was not laughter."

"It was in the neighborhood," she insisted. "It waved politely."

"Your standards are low."

"For you? Always." She crossed her legs atop his shoulder, still musing aloud. "But don't you think the Retorta Guild is far more dangerous than we imagined?" Dante didn't answer. She took the silence as agreement but kept speaking, now with more energy. "You know, I'm starting to wonder… if we do join them, will they have a room big enough for my tails? Half these corridors feel like they were designed by someone who hates luxury."

"They were. This serves as a prison after all."

"Explains the décor. Everything screams 'I love trauma.'"

"Appropriate, then."

"Is that you admitting the fortress suits your personality?"

"No."

She grinned, victorious anyway.

But eventually, even Tamamo's playful momentum slowed, and her tone drifted into the earlier question she'd been circling.

"But what are you planning to do?" she asked, voice returning to something more earnest. "I still think killing the Keepers of Order is a distant dream… but if anyone had even the faintest chance, it'd be them." A beat. "It's an undeniable fact that the realms will never be free as long as they exist. Not everyone is Untainted like you."

"Untainted," Dante repeated. "That phrase again…"

"Hm? Right. You wouldn't be familiar." She shifted, settling more comfortably on his shoulder. "You probably assumed it referred to anyone simply free of fate." He gave an affirmative grunt. "But it's more specific than that. All beings walk a linear path to their end. Sometimes, that path branches… but rarely. For the Untainted? Their branching paths are many. Countless. Almost without limit." Her voice softened. "But even then, the destination remains the same. Only the journey can change."

"This applies to me because despite being free of fate's hand," Dante said quietly, "I'm still bound by the Divine Principles. Laws that decide what must eventually become of me."

"True," she agreed. "But you have more paths you can take than most. One of those leads to the Retorta Guild." Tamamo's eyes sharpened slightly as she studied him. "But I know you, Dante. You're not the type to be tied down. You'd walk every path—every possibility—even if there were infinite."

Dante slowed, then stopped entirely before a narrow window. Steel rims framed the bleak landscape beyond: imposing and unwelcoming. "Then what will you do," he asked quietly, "when one of those paths leads somewhere you detest?"

Tamamo blinked. "…Honestly. Dante. Do you really think I haven't already decided that?" She waited, but he said nothing. So she continued. "There's a reason I've stayed by your side all this time," she said, voice unusually gentle. "I'm sure you know what it is. Or at least… you've guessed." She gave a small hum, a thoughtful one. "I know how you think, Dante. After everything you've endured… of course you question everything."

"Caution isn't bad," Dante said.

"Not bad," she agreed, "but it can rot you from inside if you let it. Ordinarily it is fine." Tamamo's emerald eyes narrowed slightly. "But your caution can be something else entirely. Something self-destructive."

He didn't interrupt.

"You were willing to kill me in our battle," she said plainly. "Not because I'd done anything. Simply because you suspected I had a hidden motive."

A long silence.

"But the past you… he wouldn't have considered killing a comrade. Not even with suspicion." A faint, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "I know I don't have much right to lecture. I've lied, schemed, manipulated… oh, I'm a hypocrite through and through." Her tails swayed, brushing lightly against his shoulder. "But regardless of everything, you had allies, Dante. Even if you insist otherwise." Her voice softened. "Your fellow knights. A few Gods. That irritating Ancestor. And… me."

He lowered his head slightly, the vibrant violet lenses of his helmet dimming. ("Have I been too cautious? Am I just rationalizing? Am I clinging to old wounds as excuses?")

"Change is beyond me," Dante murmured. "All my paths—no matter how many—are stained in blood."

"I'll prove you wrong," Tamamo said easily.

He exhaled, a faint scoff. "You would walk with me even after I tried to kill you?"

"Of course," she replied instantly. "But you do still owe me an apology."

"Perhaps one day."

She squinted at him. "That is not a comforting timeframe." Then she perked up. "Alright then. For now… how about a peck on the cheek?"

"No."

"A slap on the cheek?"

"No."

"A hug?"

"No."

"A kiss?"

"No."

"Sexy time?"

"You're escalating."

"I didn't hear a no~"

"I didn't say yes."

"Mmh, technicalities," she purred. "Fine, fine—then how about something simple? Hold my tail? Pet my ears? Compliment me? Tell me I'm cute? Tell me I'm irresistible? Tell me I'm—"

"No."

"You are impossible."

"Good."

"Cold."

"Not that much."

She leaned in until her nose tapped his helmet. "One of these days, Dante you'll slip. And when you do?" Her smile stretched. "I'm taking it as consent to everything."

"That sounds concerning."

"It's meant to."

He sighed.

Her expression softened. "But really… I'll walk whatever path you choose, Dante. Even the ones you fear. Even the ones you think you don't deserve." He didn't answer. But again—he didn't push her away. And Tamamo took that as victory.

"But I suppose we should be getting back to our three companions," Tamamo said with a light flick of a tail. "I can practically feel Alexander shaking from here. Honestly, the man's such a coward." She snickered to herself, ears flicking.

"You remind him of that at every turn," Dante murmured, continuing down the long corridor without breaking stride.

"Well, can you blame me?" Tamamo folded her arms and lifted her chin. "He's got strength at his disposal and still acts like a spooked rabbit. I'd wager if not for Ivan holding his hand, he'd never choose to tag along at all."

"He has no obligation to," Dante replied simply.

"Sure—but come now, who wouldn't want a part in saving the realm?" Tamamo shrugged, as if the idea were obvious. "It'd look good on a résumé."

"Hm. Right…" Dante said quietly, voice tapering off into thought.

Tamamo blinked, ears tilting. "…What is it? That tone of yours always means something's stirring in that stoic skull of yours."

Dante hummed in thought, gaze fixed ahead. "Even if we're still lacking information… it would be wise to temporarily join the Retorta Guild. Morgan le Fay claimed they also seek to stop the calamities." He paused, choosing each word with care. "Whether their intentions are genuine, I cannot say. But if she speaks the truth, they possess information we do not."

Tamamo observed him for a moment—eyes narrowing, tails curling thoughtfully behind her. "You're thinking several steps ahead again," she said softly. "You always do that when something unsettles you."

"…A habit," Dante admitted.

"A coping mechanism," she corrected with a tiny smirk. "But a useful one." She hopped slightly on his shoulder, leaning toward his faceplate. "So? If that's the path you want to test, then I'm going with you. I already told you—I'll follow." Dante didn't respond. Tamamo smiled on. "So let's go," she said, voice softer this time. "The others are probably panicking without us. And Alexander… well, he's probably imagining his own funeral by now."

"You enjoy tormenting him," Dante noted.

"I enjoy accuracy," she said proudly. "If he stops acting like a scared chick, I'll stop pointing it out."

A beat passed.

"…No promises," she added under her breath, grinning.

Dante shook his head slightly, but there was no annoyance—only acceptance.

"Very well," he said.

"Good," she replied, settling comfortably. "Let's see where this path leads, hm?"