Chapter Text
Life began...
In the shadows...
Or more specifically the shadow of an angel.
I don't remember how I came to be what I am now, but I remember the shadows. I remember I was part of them and they were part of me. I watched from the darkness as the Angel, the Trophy, was brought to the cell far below in the dungeons of the castle of Lord Mundus. I watched as she was tortured and beaten. Years of pain. Years of silent tears and horrific screams.
It was delightful.
Her voice was truly magnificent even when filled with pain.
Such strength.
Such determination not to be lost to the Darkness.
She was Light given form and I found myself wanting to touch that light. To bathe in it and hold it as my own. It promised freedom...
Then the man came, the abomination of Sparda...Vergil.
The cold puppet of Lord Mundus, a pathetic being with human blood. She took pity on him. Pity is a useless emotion. It shows weakness, allowing one to be used and tossed aside like trash.
I watched as she slowly broke the mental chains Lord Mundus had placed on him. Just as he knew she would. I saw their love grow in the darkest pits of Hell and scorned them both out of jealousy.
And yet...
I yearned for it.
Despicable... Useless... Emotions...
I watched on as Vergil was chained by her Will to forget her, escaping Hell through the Hell Gate. Lord Mundus watched too, laughing gleefully as his plan came into being. He did not plan on the Nephilim being born. He had thought to be the one to make her truly his, body and soul. He was so angry that Hell shook with his fury and when her belly grew with the grandson of Sparda. When she gave birth to him, Lord Mundus had half a mind to kill him.
He whispered in the darkness of his castle; scheming, planning...
Laughing as he made his way down to the Angel's cell and snatched her young from her without care. He tossed the baby through the Hell Gate into the Human world with no remorse. For only Sparda and his kin could travel between the planes of reality, a secret only Lord Mundus knew until I followed.
I was captured then, pulled from the shadows I was born from. I screamed. I thrashed. I was furious. But it was useless to disobey Lord Mundus. He sealed me into a small piece of Divine metal, fixing my very essence to it like a leach.
I found myself in the cell of the Angel, the pathetic creature still as death and covered in the blood of her newborn. I loathed her even then, her despair was not enough for her Sins. As Lord Mundus carved into her flesh, her screams filling the room most sweetly; he placed the piece of the Divine metal into her heart. Burying it deep inside her chest and away from prying eyes. She passed out from pain soon after as her body started to heal. She’d never remember the incident, which didn’t matter.
My orders were absolute.
If his Trophy failed in her purpose, I was to bring her back with the holy demon sword, Yamato. I would be rewarded with infinite power.
Oh yes...
Power...
As luck would have it, the Angel failed in a way.
She must have regained her memories as I felt the power of Yamato sing as it cut her flesh, felt the fingers of the Nephilim as he pulled loose the metal I was bound too.
I was free...
In the human world...
They casted the metal aside, discarding me like the idiots they were and when the ancient writing flared with power releasing me... I laughed. It bubbled up from my body...
Body?
I never had a body before...
As I felt my new form I realized I had hands and feet. And curvy hips and large breasts...
Bringing my hands to my face, I found that my features were feminine. A nearby puddle of water in a filthy street showed my hair was short and red. My eyes were black and my lips were full.
I looked...good.
Smirking, I ran my hands over my new body, tracing the curves and recognizing their shape. Lord Mundus had given me the form of the Angel. However, with differences that were much more razor sharp than hers.
I grinned at the puddle, my face showing little sharp pointy fangs.
"How delicious..."
My voice sounded like the Angel's too.
A flash of silver around my neck reflected from the puddle and caught my eye. A collar?
A slave...collar...
I growled and smacked the water with my fist. I would not be a slave for long. I'd find the Angel, bring her back in pieces with the sword, Yamato and I would gain power. Such power as to make a name for myself in the deepest parts of Hell.
I would not be a mere Shadow...
I would not be a doppelgänger...
I would choose my own image and be feared...
Because fear was power and power was absolute.
"Let's play."