It had taken an entire week before Helios even remotely felt like he had his life under control again. As expected, a chaotic mountain of paperwork had piled up on his desk, threatening to bury him. His vacation had barely lasted two weeks—yet in that short time, his beloved lab had sunk into a mess of reports, forms, and unchecked data.
Research or new developments? Out of the question. The endless stream of documents, requests, and evaluations left him barely able to breathe. Frustrated, he found himself questioning why he even had an assistant if that assistant wasn't going to help him manage the bureaucracy.
Theo was giving him a headache. Not only was his handwriting atrocious—he looked like he was on the verge of a complete mental and physical breakdown. Helios felt compelled to step in. If they truly intended to return to Soley, Theo needed a break. A real one. Otherwise, Helios might as well replace him entirely—though even the thought of that made his chest tighten with discomfort.
With a weary sigh, Helios flipped through the next report Theo had submitted. Once again, it was riddled with errors, nearly illegible. Why was this idiot so... incompetent? The work wasn't even that difficult. Helios himself was the one developing the medical compounds, running the calculations, pushing the innovation forward. All Theo had to do was conduct the studies and document everything cleanly. That was it. And even that seemed too much for him right now.
Correction—it had always been too much for Theo. He'd been overwhelmed from the very beginning, and nothing had changed over the years.
Because of Theo, Helios couldn't even begin working on anything new.
He would definitely have to speak with him.
His gaze drifted to the window as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against the edge of the desk. A plan for Soley also needed to be formulated. If they were to return, everything had to be carefully prepared. Spider needed to be informed, and Helios had to clear his desk at least enough to disappear without arousing suspicion.
The big question remained: what excuse could they use this time? Another "vacation" would be far too suspicious. Most importantly, Helios wanted to avoid giving his father any reason to become suspicious—at least not yet. He still didn't know whether his father was involved in any of this, but the possibility alone was enough to warrant caution.
Soley troubled him. Spider was unpredictable. And his father… was a constant enigma.
He didn't even want to think about Belladonna. The mere memory of him was enough to send Helios into a quiet rage.
He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pressing down on him. It had been three days since Penelope's funeral. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't been invited—he hadn't expected to be. But that didn't make it hurt any less.
The last photo they had taken together, he still carried with him. Just like the passport photo of Davis. Small tokens he clung to—as if they could somehow keep him from losing the people he had loved entirely. The rational part of his mind knew they were gone. Forever. And yet... sometimes it felt like they were still there. So close.
His rational mind knew they were gone. Forever. And yet… sometimes, it still felt as though they were close. Right there, just beyond reach.
There were moments when a sudden emptiness washed over him—a gaping, cold silence in his chest. Without them, he was often just a shadow of himself. Alone. Overwhelmed. And yet the world kept spinning—relentless and loud.
Only Dante seemed to be the one and only reason he hadn't completely lost his mind. Helios kept catching himself looking for him, growing restless whenever the walking mountain of muscle wasn't near.
It irritated him—this growing dependency on Dante.
At the same time, he was grateful. Grateful that Dante never left his side, that he was always there. It calmed him. Sometimes, it even felt like he could sleep better because of it. Ever since their journey to Soley, Helios had gotten used to Dante sleeping beside him, and after their return home, he had simply let it continue.
Partly because the big guy didn't really fit on his narrow field bed.
Helios had no idea when he'd started paying so much attention to Dante. He searched for the moment, but couldn't find it. It was as if it had just... happened. Strange, considering how rarely anything in Helios' life occurred without a plan.
He did sleep better when Dante was nearby—though "better" was a generous term. More often than not, he lay awake, watching the steady rise and fall of Dante's chest, the calm pulse in his neck—as if those subtle signs of life were proof that the world hadn't completely fallen apart.
The sleeping pills he had once relied on nightly? He hadn't touched them since they'd returned. Instead, he simply lay there, eyes open in the dark, watching Dante until the weight of exhaustion finally dragged him under.
Once, he had even woken up in Dante's arms—his face tear-streaked, pressed tightly against the warmth of his protector's chest, those strong arms wrapped securely around him.
Helios was far from recovered. Far from having processed his grief in any meaningful way. But Dante helped him maintain the illusion of composure—at least to the outside world. And right now, that was more than he could have asked for.
Maybe, just maybe, Dante's quiet care was beginning to mend the fractures in his heart.
He didn't even mind that Dante had seen so many of his weakest moments.
Dante had already witnessed more of Helios than anyone—except for Davis. They had showered together, shared kisses, Dante had seen him bleeding, had watched him on the verge of death. His tears were just one more drop on an already overflowing surface.
Helios wouldn't go so far as to say he had developed feelings for Dante. But he was starting to trust him. And thanks to Dante, the loneliness didn't feel quite so absolute anymore.
He genuinely wanted to help Dante fulfill his dream of becoming mortal again—even if the thought terrified him. If Dante were mortal, he could die at any time, right before Helios' eyes. And Helios wasn't sure he could handle losing him. Not after the two people he had loved most were already gone.
With a sigh, he pushed the thought aside.
Don't think. Just act. Like you always do, Helios...
He slid his glasses back onto his nose and let his gaze settle on Dante.
So... what could he do?
Dante seemed to notice the look and turned toward him, curiosity in his expression.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"I'm just thinking about how we should move forward," Helios admitted.
"Really?" Dante looked genuinely surprised. "I honestly thought you'd need more time."
"There's no point in dragging things out," Helios replied, exhaling softly. He rubbed his face with both hands, as if trying to chase away his exhaustion. "The real question is: how do we get back there without drawing attention? That last 'vacation' was a one-time excuse. It was the first time in my life I ever officially took time off."
Dante crossed his arms, brow furrowed. "I've been racking my brain about that too. But honestly? I can't think of anything that wouldn't raise suspicion immediately."
Helios rested his chin on his folded hands, eyes fixed on Dante. "I'll contact Spider tonight. Maybe he'll have an idea."
Dante looked at him, questioning. "Do you think he'll come with us?"
Helios grimaced. "Spider is more buyable than a dockside prostitute. As long as the price is right, he'll do whatever you want."
"How are you even going to reach him?"
Helios' lips curled into a thin, knowing smile. "You'll see. The guy's been watching me constantly, anyway."
Dante's expression shifted, eyebrows rising. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. Spider is basically my personal assassin. My backup plan—waiting in the shadows in case everything goes completely to hell."
"And he watches you all the time?"
Helios nodded. "Oh, he's definitely seen more than he should've."
All the cruel things and also the naughty..., Helios thought annoyed.
Dante looked slightly stunned. "Even when we were in Soley?"
"No," Helios replied. "He had other business to deal with then. We were alone on that trip."
Dante exhaled slowly, letting the information sink in.
"I don't feel like talking about Spider," Helios said with a dismissive wave. "That guy's going to get on our nerves soon enough anyway."
He fell silent, his thoughts drifting as he considered how they could make the trip again. Only one possibility came to mind—but he didn't like it. Not really. It wouldn't buy them nearly enough time. Soley was simply too far away.
"Penny…" he murmured.
"What did you say?" Dante asked, glancing over.
Helios ran both hands through his hair, frustration plain in his expression. He hated the thought—but he couldn't shake it. It was too perfect an opportunity. Too convenient to ignore.
"We could... use her death as an excuse," he said slowly, almost reluctantly. "If I start making mistakes on purpose—act distracted, unwell—I could request a few days off. Officially, to visit her grave. An emotional breakdown is hard to question."
Dante stared at him for a long moment, concern etched into his features. "That wouldn't give us much time," he pointed out. "Two, maybe three days. Not more." He paused, then added more softly, "Are you sure about this?"
"We could take the train," Helios said quickly, the idea now fully formed in his mind. "If we don't actually go to Penny's, we can skip the detour. The train would get us to the target faster than a car. We'd have three, maybe four days tops—but it might work!"
Dante considered it. "That… could actually work," he admitted. "The real question is whether your father will believe you suddenly making mistakes."
Helios shrugged. "Why not? I never make mistakes. He expects nothing but perfection from me. If anything, it would make sense for me to slip under the weight of grief. I did just lose Penny—my best friend."
His voice grew quiet, touched with a sadness that felt almost too real. He turned to the window, staring out into a sky filled with nothing but clouds—they were in the second-highest floor of the building, and the world below felt distant. "At least with her, I'm allowed to mourn."
"Can you pull it off?" Dante asked gently, his voice filled with concern.
Helios nodded. "Of course. Nothing easier than that," he replied, his tone steadier than he felt. "You know I did a pretty good job pretending after Davis died. My father didn't suspect a thing."
"That's because he's a self-absorbed asshole," Dante snorted.
"Better not let him hear that," Helios said with a faint smile. "But yes, luckily, he's pretty ignorant. We should use that to our advantage. The big question is: can we actually pull all of this off in time?"
Dante exhaled slowly. "We'd have a window of about four days?"
"Exactly. Let's assume we need one day for the trip there and one for the way back. That leaves us with two days to break in and get what we need."
"That won't be easy," Dante muttered thoughtfully.
"We'd have to take out the guards at the entrance first—and make sure no one finds them or even gets suspicious. Maybe Spider can scout the place beforehand."
"It would help if we at least had a rough schedule—when people come and go."
"And we don't even know how the facility is laid out," Helios added. "Could be one single level, or it could be a damn labyrinth underground."
"Both options have pros and cons," Dante began. "A single level would make the search easier—"
"—but everyone would notice us the moment we stepped inside," Helios finished. He sighed. "And if it's too large and spread out, we probably won't find what we're looking for in time—and we'll get caught."
Helios leaned back in his chair. "This is going to be harder than I expected." His eyes moved to Dante with a critical look. "And let's face it—you're way too conspicuous to blend in with the on-site personnel."
Dante looked at him, clearly caught off guard.
"So we have to find a way to get in without being seen. We need to cut off their internal communication—and external lines too—and get to the documents as fast as possible," Helios continued, voice steady. "If I knew how big the complex was, we could use a gas to knock them out. That would still be the fastest option."
"Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Dante asked cautiously.
"For us? No," Helios said, waving the concern away. "For them… maybe. Depends on the dosage."
"We definitely can't fight our way through."
"Not directly, no," Helios agreed. Then he looked at Dante, his gaze calm—but cold. "But we could take them out."
Dante hesitated, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean by 'take them out'?"
Helios raised an eyebrow and slowly dragged his thumb across his throat—a gesture that left no room for misunderstanding.
"Helios… that would be…" Dante began, visibly shaken.
"Rationally speaking, it's the most effective solution," Helios said calmly, almost emotionless. "Who knows what else they're researching. If we eliminate everyone involved in these experiments, we minimize the risk of it ever being resumed. That means: no more victims like you. No more uncontrollable immortals. No more shattered lives."
"But… we can't just kill them all."
"Okay, let's say we don't kill anyone. We break in, somehow avoid getting caught, only to be discovered right at the end. They'd realize you're immortal and subject you to testing. You'd never get out of there again. I might—if my father is behind it all. But I'd never be able to get you out... And as for Spider—honestly, I don't really care what happens to him."
Dante looked at him for a long time. Frustration was written all over his face.
"No one should have to go through what I did," he said quietly.
"I agree. Immortality isn't something that should be available to the masses. And if I gain full access to their research, I could theoretically mass-produce immortals in no time."
"But I still don't want to kill anyone."
"Then how do you expect us to get in?"
Dante sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He rubbed his forehead as if trying to think through fog. "I don't know," he murmured.
"Exactly. We're running in circles," Helios said, his voice flat. "I can't think of a better option."
"You mean… a more final one."
"I think it would be smart to burn the nest before more hatch."
"I don't like this, Helios. I'm willing to do almost anything to reach my goal, but just randomly slaughtering people without even knowing exactly what's going on there…"
Helios let out a quiet sigh. He stood and walked over to Dante. Once he was standing directly in front of him, he gently lifted Dante's chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
"Look at me, Dante."
Those warm, honest, reddish-brown eyes lifted and locked with his.
"We don't have to go that far," Helios said softly. "But I'd rather be prepared to kill every single one of them than be caught off guard and forced to improvise in the middle of chaos."
Dante took Helios' hand, his grip warm and steady.
"Damn it," Dante murmured. "I know you're right." He looked at Helios with pleading sincerity. "But can we at least try—without bloodshed? I don't want to kill anyone just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Helios felt his gaze soften. Dante just wasn't the ruthless type—and if there was one thing Helios had learned about him over the time they'd known each other, it was that Dante always tried to do right by everyone. He was, without question, one of the good ones.
"We'll try," Helios said gently. "But I'm still going to prepare for the worst—just in case we have to take down anyone who gets in our way."
Dante nodded and closed his eyes briefly, exhaling in quiet relief. "Thank you, Helios."
Helios gave him a small smile in return. "It won't be long now until we finally learn how they made you immortal."
"Finally," Dante whispered. "I really hope we find some answers."
"We will," Helios said with quiet certainty. "And even if we don't—if I find even a single lead, I'll be able to reproduce the formula."
Dante brought Helios' hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against the back of it. "If you can't do it, no one can."
Helios stared at him, startled. But more than anything, he was surprised—not angry. The gesture didn't bother him. After all, they were together every single day, and Dante had already come much closer to him than that.
Still, he gently pulled his hand away. He wasn't quite ready for that.
Instead, he grinned and ruffled his protector's hair in a playful, familiar way.
"Then I guess I should start thinking about what to pack in my shiny new suitcase," Helios said, his tone light and teasing, before turning back to begin assembling an inventory of his supplies.
___
By evening, Helios had at least sketched out a rough plan of what he wanted to bring. The only problem was that he still hadn't figured out how to deploy his tools from a distance. There was no way he'd learn proper aim in just a few days, and suddenly taking up target practice would only raise uncomfortable questions—ones he had no intention of answering.
That left him with only one viable option: using his equipment in close combat—and even then, only if the element of surprise was on his side. Dante was a melee fighter, though capable of ranged combat as well, even if he didn't particularly like it. Spider, on the other hand, was adaptable—fit for just about anything.
Helios began considering alternatives. Perhaps he could develop smoke bombs—small, portable, with a focused effect over a limited radius. A sleeping gas seemed the most logical choice, but it would require all three of them to wear filter masks. It would be beyond foolish to accidentally knock themselves out in the process.
Absentmindedly, he reached for the breathing mask he had originally designed for use in the city hospital—protection against resistant bacteria and unstable chemicals. With a few modifications, it could likely handle gas exposure as well. Maybe he could even design a modular filter system that could adapt to different compounds.
The longer he thought about it, the more the idea of the smoke bombs solidified as a practical solution. Ideally, they'd be small enough to conceal under clothing—discreet and quick to deploy. The large case he usually used for transporting his gear wouldn't be an option this time. Too bulky, too conspicuous.
That meant Helios would have to carry all his gear hidden within his coat.
Maybe he could coat Spider's blades with a toxin—something that paralyzed muscle tissue without being immediately lethal. Subtle, but effective. Perhaps a neurotoxin in a very small dose. Helios closed his eyes for a moment. It was hard to find a solution where no one ended up dead. Sooner or later, they probably wouldn't be able to avoid it.
Even if he wanted to do Dante that favor.
The truth was, part of him wanted to kill every single person in that facility. Preferably with his own hands. The urge was overwhelming, impossible to suppress or ignore. Especially after Penelope's death.
Yes, he'd taken out his frustration, anger, and grief on Dante—but it hadn't been enough. He needed to see someone bleed. Someone who wouldn't get back up. Someone who would stay dead. Permanently.
And the sooner, the better.
Especially now that his government work was on hold. After their return, he had requested a break. They had already secured two highly effective poisons and a painless, fast-acting dose that ensured a swift and clean death for the terminally ill.
If he contacted Spider tonight, they could arrange to meet tomorrow. With a bit of luck, Spider would have time to join them. If Helios wanted to use grief as his excuse, they'd have to act soon—very soon.
But that was something he'd only discuss once Spider was standing in front of them.
Helios turned to Dante.
"If I were to make something for you… what would help you in combat?" he asked.
Dante looked up from the book Helios had given him—a volume on local plants and their effects.
"What would help me in a fight?" he repeated. "You know I usually rely on my fists."
"I've been thinking about developing smoke bombs," Helios explained. "Infused with a sleeping gas."
Dante looked surprised. "That actually sounds good. It would mean we don't have to kill anyone," he said, visibly relieved.
"It does come with risks," Helios admitted. "I don't know how the compound would affect different people. Some might not be affected at all. The effect might not last long enough. And of course… someone could die from it. I can't properly plan medication without knowing who exactly it's supposed to work on."
Dante's expression turned thoughtful. He looked conflicted, caught between instinct and idealism.
"Dante, this is a risk we have to take," Helios said firmly. "We need some kind of plan. I can't prepare anything if we're too scared of the consequences. You're not usually this hesitant. How many people have you killed to protect me?"
"They were killers," Dante said defensively.
Helios raised an eyebrow. "So, it's acceptable to kill people if they want to kill us? If I remember correctly, you assumed they were threats just because they were armed."
Dante sighed. "If they're actually trying to kill us, then yeah—we don't have much of a choice. But we can't just kill the researchers."
"You mean the people who experimented on you?" Helios' tone had grown noticeably colder.
"They're… regular civilians," Dante said quietly, though without much conviction.
"'Regular civilians' who didn't even blink while pushing their research forward. You were nearly dead when they started testing on you. Who knows what they injected into your system? I'm not saying they're all monsters. But I doubt anyone working in a facility like that still has a conscience. The project is off the books. If you hadn't survived, we wouldn't even know that place existed. Do you get what I'm saying?"
Dante looked away. "I know you're right," he murmured. "I'm willing to kill anyone who tries to stop us. But I don't want to charge in there like some kind of berserker the moment we arrive."
"We could take out the first group with sleep bombs and lock them in a room," Helios suggested. "But we don't know how large the place is, and those resources will run out fast. We have to approach this rationally. I'll prep tranquilizers, some acid in case we run into locked doors, and a few toxins—just in case I have to defend myself. You know I'm not exactly skilled in combat, and if you and Spider are busy fighting, I'll be on my own."
A small smile tugged at Dante's lips. "You never stop amazing me with how brilliant you are. There's really nothing you don't think of."
Helios shot him a smug grin. "Fascinating that after all this time, you're still surprised by that."
He glanced at his watch. "Shall we go? It's getting late, and I'd like to contact Spider before the night's over."
Dante closed the book he'd been reading and set it down on the table. Then he stood, and together they left the lab to head home.