01-03-2017, 10:10 PM
Quote:Continued from Dante's return in the Nexus.
Much time passed after Dante's first and only yet visit to the Imperial city. Unlike the present situation, that last appearance happened on a whim; the devil hunter of the past lacked direction and intent, and so came here out of eight choices at random. At that time, he would not have even begun to comprehend the depth and expanse of the extra-dimensional world that currently held him.
That all seemed so silly now. It always did, though- as they say, hindsight is 20/20. Times changed, and like many adventures before, Dante proved himself all the stronger and wiser than he lived yesterday. The Stormtroopers flanking the gate were as cautious as ever to Dante's approach, following the norm. Without skipping a beat, the red-coated, silver-haired mercenary putted his machine to a stop before them and explained himself coolly. All the gears clicked into place as the troopers looked up "Tony Redgrave," to find his profile free of any ill marks. The satisfaction of the acceptation set in soon afterward, like being an honored guest at a club.
The devil hunter, at least abiding to the common law, carefully cruised through the checkpoint and onto the streets respectfully. Perhaps he didn't play quite as careful as he could've best done- the geared-up appearance and the noise pollution from his rough ride made Dante's presence as apparent as a hangnail. In spite of that, the hunter remained without concern. If there existed any significant reason for law enforcement to stop Dante, then the half-man half-devil wouldn't have gotten into this place without every white-suited soldier knowing about it and looking out for his handsome head.
Ultimately, Dante seemed allowed in this city without repercussions. That being said, the devil hunter decided he wouldn't be quite in the clear for a while yet. In the vein of a superstitious fellow on the wrong side of town, he did his part to remain inside the lines and hopefully inconspicuous. The red-coat even cut the engine of his bike as he took a transit elevator down to the second tier, pulling out his Dataverse Device to productively kill the time of the trip. While in this spared moment, Dante made an effort to figure out just how deep a mercenary might have to go in order to host their business.
Only later on would it tick with him just how fortunate he was, that the trip down took as long as it did to figure out the use of the Dataverse. Though the process involved a bit of fumbling through sites and menus, Dante managed to find his way to the information he wanted to see. Not moments later, the dull roar of the elevator's ominous passage slowed, coming to a lurching, muted halt.
"Tier 2," sang the computerized female voice overhead. The mercenary had been hoping to cobble together a vague idea of where one should start looking to set up their certain brand of business, but that would have to pause momentarily. Dante slid out of the opening doors alongside the chatter of others, not paying the most attention over how many pairs of eyes might have been glancing or staring at him. He followed the convenient public signs towards the next elevator, trying not to waste time but avoiding cutting corners.
Dante hadn't been paying much attention before as he merely ghosted through streets, but now that he was actually on a different Tier for once, he spared a glace or two about. Ultimately, it didn't look majorly different than how he recalled the surface, the architecture and atmosphere much the same as the upper level. Only the transit shafts poking into the digital sky gave any indication this place lived truly underneath a greater one.
What was truly notable, however, was the distinct lack of obvious patrol squads and military chokepoints. From what the mercenary had read of the supercity's structure, this would be the beginning of the notable downward trend in terms of military presence. That is to say, the farther down one went, the less solders around to keep the peace. With that in mind, Dante established an important rule for himself- stay out of the bottom-most tiers, except on business. The last thing a devil hunter like himself needed was the harassment of no-good punks and druggies on the daily.
Alas, there might've been a certain irony to that declaration, if Dante bothered to notice any of the judging gazes as he slipped into the next elevator.