The interior of the Gremory getaway mansion was just as extravagant as the entrance promised. The polished floors gleamed with a supernatural sheen, perfectly reflecting the ivory walls and the crystalline light cast by a massive chandelier above. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls allowed the surreal colors of Hell's sky to flood inside—an intoxicating swirl of amethyst, crimson, and deep blue that danced like an aurora on acid. A staircase directly ahead rose gracefully to a second floor, branching left and right into the rest of the mansion's opulent depths.
It felt less like a home and more like a luxury seven-star hotel—minus the reception desk. In its place, of course, was a lavishly stocked bar.
If the Gremory couple didn't decide to disembowel Sirzechs and toss Dante out onto the cobbled road, then honestly… Dante could get used to this.
"So you're saying you didn't accidentally knock up a suitor?" Venelana Gremory asked, voice a strange cocktail of hope and skepticism. She had introduced herself almost immediately after her son's mortified groan confirmed her suspicions—or at least fueled them. Her disappointment had been visible when Sirzechs frantically attempted to explain the situation, each flustered word only strengthening her belief she was now a grandmother. Eventually, with Zeoticus' support, they managed to rein in her enthusiasm. But her pride had clearly taken a hit.
Sirzechs sighed, cheeks still glowing a healthy scarlet. "Yes, Mother. I did not have sexual relations with any women."
Dante was mildly amused at how completely Sirzechs' composure had crumbled. If he could be crushed under the weight of parental antics, then truly, no devil was safe.
"Then why does he carry the Gremory name?" Zeoticus asked. His piercing teal eyes were still locked onto Dante with the quiet intensity of a general inspecting a weapon. Dante, well aware he'd sparked this mess by flapping his big mouth, stayed silent. The pointed glare from Sirzechs reminded him not to make it worse.
The second-floor lounge they now sat in bore signs of minimalist elegance. The room had clearly once been richly furnished, but most of the lavish furniture was gone—likely donated to house displaced citizens in the Gremorys' main estate. Now, only a couple of plush lounge chairs, a single long couch, and some half-filled bookshelves remained. The ambiance leaned more toward that of a study than a space meant for relaxation.
Sirzechs drew himself upright. The moment was heavy, but his transformation was near-instant—embarrassed son gone, Red Legion commander fully present.
"To understand the use of his surname, I must brief you both on classified Red Legion activity. I trust your discretion."
Both elder devils nodded, expressions sharpening.
"Six months ago, an anomaly appeared in the skies. A star fell—blazing brighter than even the artificial sun. Rumors exploded. Some whispered of a new savior. Others—the Old Satan Faction—spoke of Lucifer's resurrection."
Venelana nodded, her face tight with remembered tension. Zeoticus folded his arms, but remained focused.
"Weeks ago, my legion discovered the crash site in what used to be the Malpheus territory. A crater spanning miles had obliterated the region. There were no rare metals, no materials of value. Only a core of energy so volatile that proximity corroded skin to ash. Breathing the air? Death in seconds."
Even Dante leaned in. That crater was him. Or, more accurately, the hole his arrival left behind.
"We secured the perimeter, but the zone was too dangerous to study. Around the same time, rumors surfaced—about a boy, held in the heart of Halphes territory. The energy signature matched. We initiated a siege. I personally led the strike on the central fortress. During the assault, my Praetorian Guard found the boy. The resemblance to me was… unsettling."
Zeoticus and Venelana's eyes shifted to Dante in unison.
"You?" Venelana asked.
Dante gave a casual wave. "Me."
"How can you be sure he's from the crash? He could be a survivor from the Malpheus line," Zeoticus proposed, doubt creeping into his tone.
Sirzechs gave Dante a meaningful look. It was his cue.
Dante cracked his neck and smiled. "Ever hear of John Connor? Or Sarah Connor?"
Blank stares.
He chuckled. "Didn't think so. They're characters from a movie back in my time. Plot goes: a killer robot travels through time to erase the future by assassinating the mother of the rebellion's leader."
More confusion.
"The movie came out in 1984. That's… about 1,552 years from now."
That got them. Both Gremory elders stiffened as the implications slammed into them.
"Time travel?" Venelana whispered, aghast.
"Human…" Zeoticus breathed.
Dante gave a theatrical sigh. "Here we go again."
Zeoticus shot up from his chair. Venelana's mouth opened, but no sound came. The tension skyrocketed.
Sirzechs raised a hand. "I was shocked too. But there's more. Much more. His abilities… are unlike anything we've ever documented in the underworld."
Zeoticus narrowed his eyes. "Explain."
Dante did more than simply sit in silence while Sirzechs attempted to placate his parents—he was studying. Specifically, the room around him and the shelves to his right, which held a collection of ancient and likely invaluable tomes. One book in particular caught his eye, bound in a deep oxblood leather with gold lettering that read: "Chronicles of the Great War." Every instinct screamed for him to read it, but the earlier agreement to let Sirzechs do the talking restrained him. Until now.
His curiosity, however, demanded more than a passive glance. This was also the perfect chance to test his abilities.
Dante raised his right arm and reached toward the book—not physically, but with intent. The moment his fingers made the familiar 'come here' gesture, the tome shot from the shelf with surprising speed and smacked softly into his open palm.
There was something intimate about it, like the book had chosen to leap into his grasp. Gestures, he noted, helped refine his telekinetic control.
He opened to the first page and let his eyes scan the ancient script with interest, humming softly. Without a word, he gently placed it on the glass coffee table in front of him, earning startled glances from both Zeoticus and Venelana. Their expressions didn't waver even when he raised the book again, floated it toward Venelana, and passed it gently into her hands.
She took it like one might handle a bomb.
Dante, now calm and composed, lowered his arm and rested it in his lap.
Zeoticus and Venelana began scanning the book for traces of magic—any hint of energy or enchantment. But there was nothing. No visible aura, no power signature. The book had simply obeyed Dante's will like a loyal hound.
"I'm still getting used to it," Dante said at last, voice casual, though his eyes glinted with focus. "Didn't exactly have the best caretakers. Not a lot of time to train. I've only just begun to sharpen what few skills I had."
He glanced to Sirzechs. "They know who Ajuka is, right?"
Sirzechs nodded.
"Ajuka said I could learn a great many more skills in time. As of now, I can form personal barriers, grip and manipulate objects with my mind, and somehow... I've subconsciously halted my aging. My body is tempered—internally optimized beyond normal capacity."
Zeoticus swallowed, clearly overwhelmed. "And your name?"
"Dante Vale. That's my human name. I come from the year 2018—a long time from now," he added with deliberate calm. "But 'Gremory'... that was given to me by your son."
With that, Dante gave Sirzechs a casual pat on the leg.
"He adopted me for both political and strategic reasons."
Sirzechs cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting pink. "Politically, it ensures that if Dante is captured again, he won't be abandoned. The old-Satan faction had him for six months."
Sirzechs glanced at Dante for confirmation.
"Three months," Dante corrected. "They tried to brainwash me. Didn't work out for them. I gave them more headaches than answers."
Sirzechs nodded, relieved. "Strategically... Dante's a powerhouse in the making. If the old-Satanists went to such lengths to twist him to their side, then that makes him invaluable to ours."
Dante leaned back in his chair, exhaling. "Hence why we came here. To train. And for me to meet my new parents."
He flashed both Zeoticus and Venelana a wide, disarming smile.
"Lovely to meet you, by the way."
Sirzechs nearly face-palmed, but to his surprise, neither of his parents exploded.
Venelana was the first to respond, voice soft and eyes glistening. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dante."
She rose gracefully from the sofa, and Dante followed suit.
"You'll have to excuse our initial reaction," she continued, offering her hand. "It's not every day a human joins the Gremory family."
Dante took her hand gently, brushing his lips over her knuckles with noble charm.
"The pleasure is mine, Lady Gremory. Don't trouble yourself over the surprise. My appearance has been... hectic, to say the least."
She giggled into her hand. "Oh no, that won't do, dear. You're a Gremory now. It would be improper for you to call me 'Lady.'" Her eyes sparkled. "From now on, I expect you to call me 'Mother.' Wouldn't you agree that sounds more fitting?"
Sirzechs visibly tensed at the suggestion—clearly cringing—but Dante nodded smoothly.
"Indeed. I will endeavor to do so."
"Fufufufu~ So polite," she purred, clearly delighted. "Were you perhaps raised by nobility in your time?"
Dante shook his head. "Middle class, actually. But my parents believed in discipline, etiquette, and teaching my sister and me proper social conduct."
Zeoticus nodded in approval.
"Fine parents indeed."