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Chapter Text

The Unsacred Gate of the Demon Realm. Ivory pillars buried like trees in the ground, river flowing endlessly into oblivion. The Home of The Legendary Dark Knight Sparda and his tribe. A place that linked both the Demonic realm and the Human World, as long as the amulet had been fused. The portal churning and bubbling far in the distance, threatened its instability, the path closing forever.

"Come on get up, you can do better than that!" Dante's voice echoed. Around his neck his mother’s amulet hung.

Groaning in pain, Vergil forced himself to stand up, summoning what strength was left. Around his left hand his father’s amulet was wrapped. "The portal to the Human World is closing Dante... Because the amulets have been separated."

"Let's finish this Vergil. I have to stop you, even if that means killing you."

Dante held The Rebellion out, water flowing over his boots. His leather coat torn and damaged from countless battles. Vergil held The Force-Edge, the Yamato at his side eyes glaring at his brother. The two had fought to this stand still yet again, a sick battle of blood that had started in childhood, now both stood in the way of what the other wanted. Power vs protection, light vs dark, human vs demon.

Dante had come here out of a desire to fight his kin, to take revenge on the demons that had plague his life. Vergil had come for power and to claim his birthright. He had tried to give Dante a taste of that power, to awaken the demon in him. But Dante had changed. What was that stern look in his eye?

Vergil however felt the same rage, the same powerlessness. This blade, his father's blade was heavy in his hand. Vergil felt he hadn’t earned this yet. Slowly he slid the blade on his back and drew up the Yamato, the katana comfortable in his hand.

The two ran at full speed, one last charge with all on the line. Dante gripped the Rebellion, its dark demonic powers masked by the gleam of the light. Vergil clicked the Yamato out of its sheath, darkness flowing.

The cry of the brothers echoed across the Demon Realm. In an instant flash of blades and blood, the amulet fell into the water.

Dante stumbled back; Rebellion flying into the void. He bent down to pick up the chain, but realized his hand, no his arm... was no longer there. Vergil took a step towards him, knowing the Yamato could have split Dante in half. Had Vergil truly missed, or had he spared the only family left to him? He wasn’t sure himself.

"Give that to me..." Vergil demanded coming towards his brother.

Dante scooped up the amulet with his one hand and walked backwards. His pale face was smiling as he watched Vergil.

"It's just a flesh wound... haha.. You never had the heart to do it!" Dante laughed. "This is mine, it belongs to a Son Of Sparda."

"GIVE THAT TO ME!!" Vergil demanded, raising the Yamato high. "I'll cut off every limb if I have to!"

Dante tossed the amulet into the air, stopping the katana with a turquoise blade. Rudra wrapped the twins in a typhoon. Vergil with both hands swung, parting the air itself around them. He missed Dante’s face by inches, white hair splitting on the Yamato’s impossibly sharp blade.

Vergil’s eyes darted from Dante to see the Rebellion before it slammed into him. The blade caught him, carrying him out over the cliff.   

The portal crackled behind them, a glowing mass of clouds and lightning. Vergil twisted in midair to grab the Rebellion with both hands, drawing the blade from his chest. With electricity and bats twisted into a vortex around him, Dante transformed into a glowing red devil. Leaping after Vergil, they both were moving towards the glowing portal.

Vergil steady himself, wind and electricity spiraling all around him. The Force-Edge flew off his back and was sucked into the nothingness. For an instant, he saw the winged figure of Dante slam into him. He lost the Yamato, claws digging into his wrist. Vergil stared face to face with Dante’s demonic image, roaring in anger. Using what strength he had left, Vergil slammed the Rebellion into Dante’s gut, only to be hit square in the face by a glowing white fist.

Trading their final blows, Vergil’s vision went black. For a moment he felt himself being pulled and in another, himself falling. Gravity shifted and the demonic air became easier to breathe. He was in free fall, night air around him.

As Vergil’s vision returned, he saw the giant moon above them and crashed into the hard stone of the Temen-ni-gru.

Vergil lay broken, the Yamato and Force-Edge laying on the cold stone beside him. He breathed heavy; his amulet against his chest. The night air chill blew across him, as his bones mended themselves. He sat up, hair covering his face and slammed his fist into the stone.

"NO; DANTE! IT WAS MINE! IT WAS MINE!!!" Vergil beat his fist into the ground over and over, shattering stone until it was marked with his blood.

"Is it over?" a voice called. "Dante?"

Vergil looked at the woman coming towards him. Arkham's daughter, the one who's blood had mixed with theirs to open a way into the Dark Realm was staring at him. Anger flooding her face with hate.

"Vergil?! Where's Dante!? IS HE..." she shouted, pulling out her handgun.

Above them, the portal let out a horrific moan and sealed. Leaving only the blackness of night and the lights of the city below.

"Dante lives...” Vergil said trembling with rage. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his Father’s blades. Lady took a step back, gun still aimed at him. "Put that away woman... The tower will soon begin to retract.”

“He’s trapped in there! You have to reopen the portal!” Lady yelled at him. “Dante is your brother! SAVE HIM!!!”

Vergil walked to the edge of the tower looking down at his half of the amulet. “I’ll find him. And when I do, I’ll take what’s mine.”

“He hadn’t given up on you!” Lady called after him, but Vergil had already leapt off. Leaving her alone with the night.

Dante sat in a red pool. For some time, he wondered if it was blood and what, if anything here meant. Around him stretched broken ivory pillars, statues, and ruins. Only more red and white endlessly in the blackness that was the Demon Realm.

“Well, isn’t this just a whole lot of nothing?” Dante asked to the void around him. "And I thought my place was a dump."

“Sparda…” a voice boomed in the dark. Three glowing orbs appeared in the sky, crackling with an unknowable power.

“Hey, I don’t know if you could give me a hand? I seem to be missing mine,” Dante called out. He grabbed the Rebellion and pointed it towards the evil emanating out from the sky. “Or not.”  

Chapter Text

Devil May Cry 1

On the dark industrial city many old factories sat looking abandoned. One of these had been chained and boarded. It was impossible to see inside, but if one were to get past the heavy door that showed signs of use, you would find something that contrasted inside. The building was well kept, full of crates and large glass displays. Paintings, artifacts and weapons all displayed or kept safe. Going up the metal stairs to the second floor, once again the outside disguised a modern apartment.

Everything was clean and in place. The walls were covered in books, tomes, and scrolls. The paintings decorating it featured demons and monsters, ancient horrors, or ink strokes of some madman. One picture however sat on a small desk covered in papers. It featured a blonde woman dressed in red, with just the faintest smile.

Vergil stepped out of his bedroom. He was dressed in a blue and black suit, missing the jacket. The ten years hadn't hardly left a mark on him, nor had anything else.
Searching for a new way into the demon world had left Vergil little time for else. He had sometimes hunted down a little demon or two in an alley, demanding answers. But opening a new path, had proven difficult.

The Yamato sat on a pedestal and next to it, the Force-Edge. Vergil had tried everything he could, but while the blade resonated demonic energy, without the other amulet it remained dormant.

The faintest static; the hum of some electrical current. Vergil closed his eyes, stepping away from his father's blades. The quiet of night only broken by the steps of his polished shoes.

He walked into the kitchen and began dinner. He laid out carrots and squash, grabbing a large knife. A spark, and tiniest crackle in the air. Vergil used only the sharpest knives, cutting with no effort through the vegetables. As he reached for a carefully laid out salmon, in the knife was reflected a thin figure. His eyes flicked over his shoulder only for an instant.

In a movement so fast eyes could hardly follow; he threw the knife. The blade grazed the woman's cheek and lodged deep in the wall. Sunglasses clattered to the ground as she stared trying to hide her surprise.

"I don't know who you think are, but you don't have any idea what you are dealing with," Vergil warned. He turned; he knew it was not Arkham's daughter this time. She did not have this demonic feeling. "You aren't human... you..."

Vergil looked at her, pausing. That face, it shook him. He was looking into the visage of his mother. He clenched his fist, a blue flame spreading from it.

"Are you the man who lost his mother and brother to darkness twenty years ago? The Son of The Legendary Dark Knight Sparda?" she asked, her voice also a mockery of that long dead woman.

"Foul she devil..." Vergil sneered and in an instant, had the Yamato in hand wreathed in energy.

The woman raised her hands, lighting cracking from her finger tips and whipping around them. She directed it at Vergil, who held his own hand out and held her merger attempts back. He slowly stepped towards her, cracks and sparks striking everything in range. Metal objects began to float and spinning and with one last surge, she threw everything into the attack.

Vergil however only grimaced. Closing his hand, he dissipated the lightning. The lights in the room burst and everything went dark. The woman flew back into the living room, hitting hard into a gray couch, that toppled over.

Only the moonlight from a window shown on her pale white skin as she lay sprawled out struggling to sit up. She didn’t even hear Vergil behind her, only feeling the cold katana come to rest at her neck.

"Any Last Words?"

She held her hands up, looking into his eyes  “Mundus is coming.”

Vergil twitched, rage burning hot beneath a mask of cold features. She shown no fear of the blade, even as a drop of blood ran down her neck. Not having killed her, she spoke again.

"My name is Trish. I came here to seek your help to put an end to the underworld. Twenty years ago, Mundus the Emperor of The Underworld resurrected from his death like sleep.  He is attempting to take control of the human world once again. The place he’s chosen is Mallet Island, in an old, ruined castle there.”

Mundus was the demon who had ordered the burning off Vergil’s home, killed his mother and taken what little peace he’d ever known.

"Interesting and why should I trust you? You come here uninvited and hostile," he asked, withdrawing the Yamato.

"I had to know you were strong,” Trish explained sitting up. “Mundus has many enemies, demons he banished or crushed under his rule. I believe you may be the only one capable of stopping him."

Vergil walked over to a globe and spun it. With one finger he stopped it, landing on a small island titled ‘Mallet Island’

"I don’t play well with others Leave this place and I will slay Mundus, as Father should have long ago," Vergil told sheathing the Yamato.

“At least let me show you to the Hell-gate!” Trish demanded following cautiously. “The island is full of demons and traps”

“If I find you are here when I return she devil…” Vergil gave her only the slightest glance. “I will not hesitate to end you. Your appearance displeases me.”

Getting to Mallet Island was not as simple as getting on the bus. Vergil lived in a world of old books, scrolls, statues, and swords, but he did have a few modern conveniences. He drove down the highway, speeding on the roads in a blue sportscar. Lights flashing around him, passing humans as he shifted gears. He would have to travel by plane and boat to get to this little island in the middle of nowhere, but he had a destination.

Vergil also knew, he was being followed. He could see the motorcycle staying a safe distance, trying to avoid him seeing. That she-demon wasn’t going to take the hint that easy.

Mallet Island was a rocky landscape with waves crashing against the jagged stones. There was a giant castle built here that felt as old as the air. Vergil climbed off the boat, the owner fearfully watching him. The suitcase of cash however was enough to push him to deliver the silver haired man, even to a cursed island.

"Come back in three days. I will be waiting," Vergil told looking around. In his hands was a large cello case and based on how he held it, it seemed heavy.

"Y... yes sir."

The archway's rune spoke of warnings. Reading the ancient language went 'Those who dare the underworld shall find the flames of hell'. The demonic air moved with purpose, the layers of reality bending to touch the unreal. The cliffside Vergil walked led upward towards the great castle, everything in ruin. Parts of the building had fallen and wiped-out walkways, pieces of the path had been washed away by the ocean.

Ahead of him, an archway stood. It had two great wooden doors with Celtic runes warning to turn back. With a loud creek, they swung open and revealed Trish leaning against the old stones. She had her arms crossed and was looking at the ground.

Vergil ignored her, refusing to look at her. He stepped up to the castle’s great iron doors, old, silence and immobile. He turned back, just a moment to see Trish twirling a key on her finger. He scowled and kicked the door, denting in the metal, hinges flying off and causing it to fall, dust flying everywhere. He thought he heard Trish give a sigh but didn’t look back.

The main hall was lit quite well for an abandoned castle. Chandeliers, candles, and torches fully alight. There was a large staircase and two giant statues. One was of a knight riding a great steed and the other an angel. He glanced around the old ruins, feeling the air was charged. This was definitely a demonic place, and not since the Temen-ni-gru had he felt somewhere as unnatural as this.

There was only one path not collapsed in. This led to an ancient tower filled with broken furniture and books. The sun was setting through the arrow slits, and he began to feel that the tower was just slightly slanted. At its top floor, he found a colorful old marionette. It looked like a French harlequin with knives in its hands. What made it worse, was it was man-sized.

"How quaint," Vergil commented as he turned to leave and froze. A knife came flying by his face and he turned to see the old Puppet stumble forward. It clanked and spun its head, drawing up two more knives.

The Marionette attacked again, wires gleaming as it swung its knives helter skelter. With ease, Vergil splintered the head into pieces with the heavy cello case. More Marionettes charged in from the stairway, some crawling like spiders, others crawling over their kin to get into the room. Tossing the case above, Vergil held his hand out. A burst of blue flames came from his right hand producing the Yamato, as with his left hand he pushed his hair back. Two puppets, before they could bring their knives down split clean in two, the speed of the attack was so great. The cello case above split opened mid-air revealing the Force-Edge.

The large blade fell into Vergil’s other hand. The puppets had filled the room, creating a circle around him. Outside the tower was crawling with brightly colored figures, some pulling at the old stone to make new openings. From a distance Trish stood at the shore, watching the colorful specks.

With both weapons in hand, Vergil cut down rows of puppets. Left and right they attacked, but each were cleaved in two. Down the tower, feet beating on the stairs, he slashed over and over. Wood shattering, splitting and splintering. Knives and blades inches away from him. The puppets seemed endless, blocking the path. As Vergil slashed one, another would push in. As he split another’s head, yet more approached from behind.

Spinning like a top, he pushed them back on all sides. For just a moment the white faces of the jesters laughed their mechanical laugh. Vergil drew the Yamato up over his shoulder and then across the floor, tearing open time and space. Not wasting a moment he leapt down, puppets following as the portal sealed behind him.

Vergil found himself in a long hall, oil paintings and suits of armor decorating it. He could sense something nearby, something electric. He thought he might sense Trish, but as he came around the corner, there was a statue engraved into the wall. It depicted  a woman in agony, a sword embedded in her chest. As Vergil admired the scene, he heard a voice in his head.

"I am Alastor, the weak shall give their heart and swear their eternal loyalty to me."

The blade shot into the air and slammed into Vergil, pinning him to the floor. For a moment, one might think The Son of Sparda was dead. But as he lay there, bolts of lightning firing off of the sword, he rose. Slowly, painfully he slid up the blade, tearing flesh, blood spurting. Flesh clinging to the blade but also mending on him, Vergil slid off the handle and grabbed it. Holding the blade up, electricity flying everywhere. Alastor tried to subjugate him, but with a smile it dematerialized. Vergil could use this demonic power, but for now he did not need another sword.

The statue changed from a woman to the grim reaper. It both seemed to be a door and at the same time, wanted something. Vergil however did not have time for this.

The door split into pieces as he entered a cathedral. The pillars pulsed with life, showing this place's connection to the Underworld. Pews sat in rows, the last light of sunset cast through stain glass and onto an unholy alter. Vergil could once again feel something was near.

With a crash, a flaming demon smashed through the glass above and onto the floor. It looked like a spider, but massive and giant. Lava and fire flickered off its stone like plating, a large tail unwound. It stomped towards him, laughing a deep evil laugh.

"WHAT IS THIS? I sensed something a little bigger. Such a disappointment," It mocked. It was drooling lava from its mandibles, beady blue eyes moving rapidly.

"I thought I sensed something a little bigger too, " Vergil laughed dryly. He drew his hand back, lightning taking the form of the blade Alastor. "Burnt the fire of thine eyes? What the hand, dare seize the fire?"

"Pitiful human, have you lost your senses?" Phantom mocked.

Vergil leapt high into the air and unleashed lightning upon the demon. Its spewed lava at him, but Vergil shot down slamming the electrical blade into its hide. Alastor bounced back, not even denting Phantom's skin. It hissed and its long tail flung magma everywhere. Its stinger shot at him without hesitation. Inches away from Vergil, he flicked the Yamato out of its scabbard and sliced the large tail clean off.

"WHAAAAAT NOOOOO!!!!" Phantom bellowed, as both Alastor and The Force-Edge slammed into his mouth. Lava spewed out, heating the blades. Drawing them up, Phantom's face and head was split into four pieces with a sick crack.

The headless demon began to melt away, its body convulsing wildly. "I'LL BE BACK!! I SHALL CRUSH YOU!!!” Its voice echoed in Vergil's head.

Vergil scoffed, straightening his tie. The Lava and fire phased out of this reality. He knew these demons were still in hell, only using these weak bodies to interact with our world. Like this, they stood no chance.

"And to think I had hoped for a challenge."

Chapter Text

Vergil walked what seemed like an endless number of halls. This place never seemed to want to end and never seemed to run out of odd trinkets littering it. It wasn’t clear if someone had abandoned the castle, or if it had been ransacked. Parts were overgrown with vegetation, others flooded with water. Rarely there would come a room that appeared completely untouched by time, not even graced by a single cobweb.

At the end of one hall, he pulled open a small and rusty metal door. Water flowed out over his shoes, flowing from some metal grate. The room itself was square with a long staircase going upward. Everything was bathed in a blue light, the edges covered in shadows.

As Vergil set foot onto the stairs, the room seem to fade away. The walls of the castle disappeared, the ground vanishing but for the steps he stood on. For a moment only Vergil seemed to exist, when he caught the faintest high-pitched laugh.

Arcing a glowing cut from the Force-Edge, the shadows parted, and the darkness withdrew. The void took shape, tearing into sheets and forming banshee wraiths spiraling around him. They each were wearing an old stone mask and wielding scythes. Only by paying attention to the weapons could Vergil tell how many there were.

"WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER?" One screaked. "Death follows the sons of Sparda!!!" another croaked.

Vergil stepped off the stairs, rolling his eyes as the shadows followed him. He put the sword's tip to the floor, holding it with both hands and closing his eyes. Still water flowed around the tip of the blade. They all struck at once, swinging large demonic blades over each other. The water was thrown back by the impact, as the blades met at the top of the handle of the Force-Edge.

With a gasp, they saw Vergil balancing himself on the hilt of the sword with one hand. Upside down he drew the Yamato from his belt. He smashed the undrawn weapon into a mask, but the shadows pulled away still laughing.

“FOOLISHNESS VERGIL! FOOLISHNESS!!!” The cracked mask mocked.

Vergil landed back on his feet with a flip and pointed upward. The masked figures still jeering, and circling glanced up only to be met with rows of glowing swords above them. Blades rained down upon them, shattering the stone faces, tearing their cloaks and leaving no trace of the wraiths.

The unnatural shadows faded and taking only a moment to dust himself off, Vergil ascended the stairs. This led him to a set of double doors. Inside was a small bedroom covered in cobwebs and crimson curtains. The old bed looked untouched other than the blankets, which were faded.

On one wall there was a large windowed door that led out onto a balcony. Across from it was a giant mirror that was smudged and covered in cobwebs.

Vergil could not have looked more bored, until he caught the reflection of himself. It seemed to move just that little bit off and the room seemed gigantic in the mirror. Strangest to Vergil was the feeling of familiarity.

Mirror Vergil smiled a cocky un-Vergil like smile. Both stepped closer, the desync becoming more obvious. The reflection reached forward and touched the glass, his hand phasing through. Slowly he stepped out of the mirror, leaving no reflection of either. Like a shadow the figure distorted, growing larger, filling out and taking the shape of an armored demonic knight.

He was covered in orange a rust-colored armor, with red and blue power glowing in cracks that covered his face, armor and body. His eyes glowed teal, pupil-less and cold. His right arm was larger than his left, unarmored, black, and demonic. The knight reached back, drawing a long sword from the mirror, and knelt. It’s long purple cape draped the floor and horns twisted upward as its head bowed.

"Well... at least there is someone here who has some dignity," Vergil said watching him. "And here I thought Mundus was going to hide behind weak puppets and shadows."

The Demon Knight laughed, his face showing no emotion. He stood up, hands resting on the handle of the sword.

“I am Nelo Angelo, general of Emperor Mundus,” he told holding inhumanly still. “I have been charged with killing you, Vergil son of Sparda.”

Vergil smirked, giving him the slightest shrug. “Mundus’s peons have already tried. There is no challenge here.”

Nelo-Angelo without any change in expression he snapped his fingers and the balcony doors opened. Moonlight spread through the room, the soft cry of the wind greeting them.

“I assure you; it will be a ‘bash’ son of  Sparda.”

Beckoning, Nelo-Angelo stepped outside and leapt into the night. Vergil followed curiously and stepped out onto the balcony. Below was a stone courtyard, large blue flamed torches blowing in the wind. The night air felt good after being in that stuffy old castle for so long. He looked up to see Nelo-Angelo standing up high upon a tower. He held the large blade in hand and seemed to be doing salute or praise, looking still and statue like against the nights sky.

“FOR MY LORD AND HONOR!!” He cried out, deep red flames covering the blade. “Thy enemy shall fall.”

Both men leapt down into the courtyard. The spiraling patterns of stones and statues of gargoyles creating a ring around them. The Force-Edge glowed in the light of the moon as Vergil took a defensive stance. Nelo-Angelo stood straight and raised his weapon behind his head with both hands.

The weapons met and the Force-Edge shook under the power of that massive sword. They matched blow for blow, speed increasing with violent strength. Vergil countered each move with ease but couldn't find an opening either, the exchange becoming more chaotic.

That giant blade was longer than Vergil’s. If a normal person had stopped it, their bones would have shattered from the shear force. Changing tactics, Vergil held his hand out and a barrage of lightning bolts covered the knight. Vergil’s form changed to that of the blue devil Alastor. Black spikes, horns, and giant teeth on a blue-black form.

Spreading his new wings, Vergil leapt into the air and unleash a of rain pure energy down upon the knight. However, Nelo-Angelo held his blade out before him, letting the lightning crack and spark around him. His eyes glowed intensely, a vortex of electricity and flames burning away his cape.

Nelo-Angelo raised large right arm. The black skin of the palm peeled back to reveal the barrel of a gun. With a crack the vortex dissipated, and the gun let loose a torrent of energy. They tore into Vergil's demon wings and sent him crashing downward.

Laughing Nelo-Angelo slowly moved forward. "Is that all you've got?”

Vergil stood up, letting out a growl from between his demon teeth. He drew the Yamato from a burst of blue flames. His form cracked with power, changing shape from Alastor to his own scaled form. At the center of his chest, a blue V was glowing like a reactor. The sheath was now part of his arm, glowing demonic anger raging from the Yamato within.

“You will respect the power of SPARDA!”

Sprinting forward, the stones under his feet cracked around Vergil. The very air parted as the Yamato came forth in a dark trailed slice. Nelo-Angelo blocked the blow, but the katana chipped deep into the blade. The demons traded attacks, Vergil glancing the hip of his armor and the edge of the broad sword grazing Vergil’s scaled shoulder. Nelo buckled and Vergil saw his opening.

The giant blade crashed into the stone; Vergil felt the air whipping his face from the mass. He struck, cutting into Nelo’s horn. The Yamato would have cleaved The Demon Knight's head in two, but Nelo-Angelo caught the blade with his clawed hand. The black, pulsating arm was cut down to the wrist, but instantly began twisting and reforming into a new hand around it. No bone was met, no cry of pain. Nelo-Angelo just held the Yamato inside his hand and slammed his free fist into Vergil’s face.

Flying back and returning to his human form, Vergil crashed into the wall. Everything went black, only the cold stone against his back. He tried to find a weapon blindly, his fingers clawing at the ground.

Nelo-Angelo cried out in rage and pulled the katana out of his arm. A mixture of blood and black fluid came pouring from the wound, sealing itself with a bright flame. The area around his mouth cracked from the cry, power flowing out between the layer of skin that was breaking away. He went inhumanly still, sound dying as Nelo’s eyes went dim.

Vergil pushed his hair back, feeling his bangs covered in blood. He could see a vague outline of the demonic knight, but he couldn’t focus. Pushing himself, Vergil failed to stand. Sliding further down the wall weakly.

The glowing eyes flamed with life, the suit of armor beginning to move. Nelo-Angelo held his giant sword out and began to spin it like a buzzsaw. Each spin a simple flick of his hand, but as it increased in speed it seemed to create a vacuum.

Vergil slid off the wall. The blade came closer and closer as it drew him in. He felt it shred some of his jacket as he reached for his sword, but The Force-Edge was gone. He summoned the Alastor, swinging semi blind and stopping Nelo’s blade. But even as that immense strength shook him, a cold hand grabbed the top of the Alastor and pulled it away. That ice clawed hand wrapped around Vergil’s neck and slammed him into the wall, sliding him across the stones with a violent delight. Vergil felt himself on the edge of consciousness again, hardly feeling his amulet slip out from his jacket.

Unable to breathe Vergil punched with all his strength, cracking the armor and breaking his own fingers. He grabbed at the face, ready to plunge his fingers into the eyes. But before he could, he gasped, air leaving his lungs. The Yamato had plunged deep into his chest, easily cutting through his ribcage.

“Vergil…” Nelo-Angelo muttered still holding him by the neck. He glared at Vergil whose hair was down in his face. Only that mouth gasping for air was visible above a red gem that reflected Nelo’s own face.

Throwing Vergil aside, the demon cried out. Red energy flared off Nelo-Angelo, engulfing him as he held his head and fell to his knees. He began slamming his face into the ground, his fist beating upon the stone.

“VERGIL!!!!!” Nelo cried out in pain.

Vergil sat up, hand broken, Yamato in his chest and looked at the creature. The air was growing hot as Nelo-Angelo cried out and burst into flames. His face cracked like a ceramic later of skin, his very eyes peeled back a black layer, revealing a blue eye full of anger and pain.

The broadsword made of the same material as Nelo’s armor melted down, revealing a silver sword underneath. The Rebellion’s handle became more and more visible, before Nelo-Angelo grabbed it and the area was covered in heated blackness.

In an instant, the knight was gone, leaving only a scored mark upon the ground. Vergil was alone, under the moon.

“Dante…” Vergil half whispered pulling the Yamato, unable to hold on and letting it clatter to the ground. He had lost.

There was a torrent of emotions. He was broken, his body exhausted. Even as his hands mended themselves with his powerful demon blood, his body spiked with new pain. Defeated by his fallen brother, all that could flame in rage was a lust for the power owed him. But, the cold sadness, all that he had lost and to see Dante in that state. He felt it would have been better if he had killed Dante, than to let him fall so low. Then a chill filled him, colder than the night. Asking if either of them deserved to live. If there was any moment that had been worth living since that night.

Rage, sadness, loneliness, pride and pain, Vergil collapsed onto the stone. 

“This is our legacy,” a weathered voice said. It was full of warmth, yet something painful. “Let them sleep, I will return soon.”

The darkness pulled back, and Vergil could see the painting of his father, the Demon Sparda in human form. Below the painting sat two blades on display and a roaring fireplace bathing it in light. The Rebellion hung from the wall upon a skull plaque, runes and chains adorning the weapon as if it might spring to life. The other sword sat upon the mantle, a small stand displaying it. The Yamato rested with dignity in it’s saya, the tassel draped elegantly upon the oak.

Vergil's little hands grasped the Yamato. This was what his father had left to him, a tool to protect him, his mother, his family. Vergil drew the blade, seeing his eyes reflected in the metal. How many times had he been told he was too young, that this weapon was a big responsibility?

“And I am black, but O! my soul is white. But I am black as if bereaved of light.”

Now Vergil was alone. He’d just fought Dante for taking his poetry book. It was a special gift given to him and he’d not even got a chance to read it before his twin began bothering him. Dante wanted to roughhouse, fight, and wouldn’t say no. The two couldn’t be more different in taste, attitude, and their punishments.

The shaking of a small plastic horse gave a metal creek. It was for a child smaller than he, but Vergil sat here venting. The park’s night air blew his hair softly, stilling his soul. He had run away after being scolded. He knew not only he’d have to go home and weed the garden, but he would also be punished for running away too.

“Vergil, you’re older after all.”

“It’s always my fault because I’m the older one!!!” He moaned and let out a long sigh.

Vergil was just starting to accept he needed to go back, when there was a scream, a cry of pain, but it was not Vergil's. He could hear bones breaking, flesh tearing. Helpless, limp, he could see shapes around him. He was bleeding, pierced by innumerable blades and how they mocked him.

The skeletal demons were roaring in his ears, taunting, and jeering. They had come to take revenge, to make the family of Sparda suffer.

There was an explosion, the sky lighting up red. Vergil knew that the fire was in the direction of home, but he couldn’t turn his head. Vergil just needed strength, to have enough power to save whoever was crying. The Yamato called to him, that power, that strength. He felt the weapon in his hand and through the pain drew both the blade and his true inner self.

For a moment there was two Vergils’ standing across from each other. Bodies of cut and broken demons lay scattered around them. The ghostly Vergil faded, and he knew he must go, must save his family.

"Vergil?" Hearing the voice of Eva, Vergil opened his eyes. There the she-demon Trish stood looking at him, an almost white figure in the moonlight.

"Are you alright?” there was forced concern in her voice. She held out a hand which Vergil refused.

“If you were going to kill me, you missed your chance,” Vergil told grabbing the Yamato and going to one knee. “That’s why he sent you. To try to exploit some long bygone weakness.”

“You have trust issues,” Trish sighed and tossed a small green crystalline star at his feet. She made a point not to look at him now. “You just got your ass kicked and won’t even accept a helping hand.”

Vergil took off his ruined jacket, tossing it aside and ignoring the glowing green crystal. His anger was boiling over and the least thing he wanted was to see her. He slicked his hair back and slid the Force-Edge on his back, pain searing in his chest.

Silently Vergil began to walk away, but Trish followed after him calling, “You don’t even know how to reach the entrance to Hell!”

The castle seemed empty now, there was only the two pairs of footsteps as Vergil walked away from Trish. Outside the castle the waves crashed against the rocks, the old ruins still for the first time since that puppet had come to life. The stone road led to a large wall dividing the island and a large metal portcullis.

With a flick of the Yamato Vergil parted the old iron gate and walked out to a large, raised drawbridge made of stone. Below was a pit of jagged rocks and fog. The path was clearly blocked by those who did not want this bridge lowered. Vergil began to judge the distance when Trish caught up to him.

“What are you going to do? Tear this whole castle apart?!” Trish demanded. “Search under every rock on the shore?!”

“So be it!”  Vergil exploded. “What would a she-bitch of Mundus accomplish leading me there? A trap? To take over in his stead?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said I was once human?” Trish yelled back clearly lying. “You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Vergil sneered.

“You are such an asshole!”

Vergil froze and Trish recoiled, almost as if expecting him to attack her.

“You best be ready,” Vergil warned.

A flaming wicker-man leapt from the chasm, metal bonds holding it together. It had spiked flaming wheels for hands. Before it could attack, the demon was caught in the face from a lightning bolt from over Vergil’s shoulder. Three flaming wheels hurled towards them in response, but Vergil cut them mid air as he and Trish moved back to back.

Now there were at least twenty whicker demons encircling them, while more climbed up the rocks. Vergil took stance and Trish’s hands began to glow as their enemies moved in.

The first two whickers spun their torso like a top. Vergil with two flicks decapitated one and took the legs off the other. Both spun out of control in flames that covered the battlefield. Trish sent bolts left and right, blocking flaming wheels, before putting her hands together and sending a wave of pure electricity causing the puppets to go flying off into the abyss.

Two leapt at Trish with spears, she danced past their thrusts, before grabbing the weapon away. Vergil stabbed the Force-Edge into one and with a long arch, sent his father’s sword spinning. The blade cut down rows as Vergil sheathed the Yamato behind his back. Around him, enemies exploded into pieces.

“Eat it!” Trish called kicking a whicker head off into nothingness. One that was crawling away on all fours she threw the spear into. The creature collapsed and burst into flames.

 Vergil semi ignoring her turned around to leave, but with a crack of lightning she struck the chains on the other side of the drawbridge. With a crash the stone bridge fell into place, shaking the bricks under them.

“The Coliseum is the entrance to limbo, from there you can get to Mundus,” Trish explained. “Now you can keep wasting time killing these peons, or you can follow me.”

Not looking back, Trish crossed the bridge. Vergil paused, listening to her boots a moment. Taking in a breath between his teeth, he followed, into the foggy night.

Chapter Text

The fog was so dense there was no landmarks to be seen anywhere. Lone marionettes could be seen as shapes shambling on some distance path. The only way they could see in this place was Trish, who had created a small electric orb in her hands. In the gray massless world, they walked a straight line over rocky paths.

“You are sure where you are going?” Vergil asked.

Trish paused at this, letting Vergil get ahead of her. He would have lost her if he didn’t hear her footsteps joining his. The rocky path had large drop offs everywhere and he didn’t care to find out how far they went.

“I have a good sense of direction,” Trish said picking up the pace. “Besides look at this.”

They had come to what looked like a large stone wall they couldn’t see the top of. To the left there was a collapsed tree and the right a leaning archway. Either way the stone seemed to go on forever with repeating patterns of warriors engraved on it.

“This is the coliseum,” Trish told with a smile as she ducked under a fallen archway. “Finding the way in is a little difficult. My father once showed me…”

“Why don’t you tell me something true?” Vergil demanded. “If I'm to permit your presence, at least stop lying. You are a creature of Hell; you have no father.”

Without waiting for a response, Vergil began to walk around the building. Trish followed with unseen displeasure. There was silence for a long while before she gathered her words, seeming alien as they echoed around them.

“When I first saw the human world… “ her voice was clearly strained. “I was in a field, countless stars above me. In Hell, there are no stars, only complete darkness, or intense light. When I began looking for you, there was no stars in the city. It made me sad.”

There was silence. No rebuttal, no sneering remark. Vergil just slowed his pace, letting her catch up behind him.

“One late night by the river, I saw the skyscrapers reflected in the water. There I saw man made stars. I cried for the first time.” Trish paused, then added “Now why don’t you tell me something true?”

Vergil was silent for a while, the fog made him an outline. “When I was a child… I don’t suppose you know what childhood is like. I tried to show my brother Dante Orion. I had a book of constellations and would stare into the night’s sky to find them. Meanwhile Dante preferred the morning. He would stare at clouds, saying one looked like a dragon or an angel.”

“Sounds like happier times,” Trish commented.

“Maybe, I don’t remember,” Vergil lied.

“Once Mundus is gone, I would like to travel the world. See more of what mankind has built.”

“Mundus is your master, there is no need to lie. This facade is a trap to kill or capture me.” The coldness was slipping back into Vergil’s voice. “Why else would he give you that face.”

“I didn’t ask to look like this,” Trish semi yelled. This was the first-time anger had entered her voice. She ran her hands angerly through her hair as Vergil gave a small laugh. “I want to be free and as long as Mundus lives, I am his slave.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I shall take my vengeance upon Mundus. Just show me to the Underworld and his fate is sealed.”

“It is a difficult task to enter the Underworld,” Trish told kicking a branch out of the way. “First you must enter Limbo using the Wheel of Destiny. From there, you will find the other castle. The corrupt priest who built this place called it ‘The Twilight Castle’. Inside you will need the staff of Hermes and the Philosopher’s stone. With those you can travel from the chapel into the gate of Hell.”

“Sounds boring,” Vergil commented, leaping over a chasm that ran up to the structure. “Is this how you traveled here?”

“No…” Trish whispered. “The fabric between realms fluctuates. Sometimes something small can slip through, with enough power.”  

The conversation died as the two moved along the stone The sun was starting to come up, lighting the fog an orange hue.

“We have been here before,” Vergil cut in. They had comeback to the fallen tree and fallen archway from the beginning.

“It isn’t that simple,” Trish told him ducking under the archway again. She pushed aside some of the rubble and there were two imprints of what looked like clawed hands in the stone. “You need a key.”

Vergil looked from the imprints to Trish. “You knew about this?”

She smiled at him and rested against the archway. “Maybe, maybe not. I…”

“You are wasting my time!” Vergil yelled and the archway split with a flash of the Yamato. “Did you enjoy the conversation that much?”

Trish froze, shocked by the rage he was displaying, but tried to laugh it off. Vergil however paced around the imprints.

“I’m traveling to the Underworld, going to kill the King of Hell and have to deal with my possessed brother!” Vergil sparked with blue life. “And you want to have a nice chat?!”

“Well, if you are done being an ass, I might be able to help!” Trish’s stubborn look wasn’t something Vergil associated with his mother. Eva had been a very soft housewife, rarely a harsh word came from her mouth.

She moved more of the rubble and uncovered a chest. It was oak blackened by flames and covered in brass imps. Lifting it with ease despite the size she offered it to Vergil. As he opened the lid, he saw two pairs of gauntlets shaped like dragons. Flame tassels hung from one end, the gloves themselves made of metal and glowing hot.

“I am Ifrit, demon of the Fire-Hell!” it roared in a disembodied voice.

Trish smiled, touching the gloves gently. “These would break a lesser man, make slaves of them. I trust it will be no problem for you.”

Vergil had to decide if this was a trap, the gauntlets were clearly forged by a devil’s soul. Taking them from the box, he looked Trish in those eyes so like his own. With a clink, the gloves opened. Instead of being put on, they separated enough to snap onto Vergil’s arms and began spreading flames up and down his body.

“BOW TO ME MORTAL. BE MY VESSLE IN THIS WORLD!!! IFRIT SHALL NOT REMAIN LOCKED AWAY ANY LONGER!!”

Grunting with the pain searing his arms, Vergil struggled to stand up straight. The gloves were heavy, Vergil’s hands not his own. The fire did no damage to flesh or cloth, only spread over his body.

“You struggle, but can you endure such pain?” Ifrit asked mockingly in his ears.

“Pain?” Vergil asked out loud. “Let me share some of mine…”

“What… stop, what are you!!!”

Vergil closed his fist and with horror Ifrit roared in his mind. All those black nights, pain, loss, Dante and his last stand in their father’s home. Human fears, human pain, something a demon had never experienced. The gloves were forced to stay a fist, slamming into the archway and sending stone flying.

“Hey… watch it!” Trish complained.

Ifrit’s flames died, Vergil still untouched by them. The gloves clinked open, and he put them to the imprints. Fitting perfectly, the stone lowered, and a section of the wall parted.

“Let us proceed,” Vergil told taking a step into the Colosseum.

Inside torches lit to greet them, the fog was strangely absence from this place. The circle of walls was covered in faces and above stone benches sat in rows. In the center was a giant pentacle, glowing with an ethereal light. Statues of demons and hooded figures loomed overall, bathed in that same unreal glow.

“Offer the Colosseum a sacrifice and it shall connect the path to the Wheel of Destiny,” Trish read from the old runes. “What a lovely place.”

“A sacrifice?” Vergil asked looking to the sky. “Looks like its provided.”

The sky warm with the rising sun was covered in clouds, bolts of red energy ripping through the sky. Out of the swirling mass, a giant creature descended. A griffin, brown, with an open chest full of glowing red energy. From that, sparks shot here and there, glowing brighter and brighter as if to explode. Its head was comprised of three bird faces fused together, six pieces of beak opened, and six eyes glowed with that same intensity as it’s middle.

“You are the son of Sparda?! The one who killed Phantom and has troubled my master?” It bellowed. The voice was a deep base. “The emperor has bestowed upon me more than ample strength to destroy you!”

“Let’s test that strength of yours,” Vergil smiled. Flames of orange licked up his arm and blue flares greeted the Yamato’s appearance. He slid the weapon into his belt and raised his gauntlets.

“Prepare to die mortal!” Griffon called and flew up into the air.

Each time he beat his wings, a blast of air hit Vergil. Each of these would have shattered a normal person’s bones, but Vergil calmly stepped into the magic circle.

“Go get him Vergil!!” Trish called from the stands. She kicked her feet up on the seat in front of her, relaxing.

Vergil’s brow furled looking at Trish with annoyance and shrugged. He knew he didn’t need her anyway.

Red lightning came crashing down around Vergil, bouncing off the ground and past him. Barely moving, he dodged till there appeared to be multiple of him. The Griffon flew down and opened its mouth. Out of the beak a large ball of energy floated to the ground and opened into a web like string of electrical bolts.

Seemingly trapped on every side, Vergil settled into one spot. He raised his gloved hand; fire began to spin and formed a large orb of molten heat.

“FOOL!” Griffon called, the web crashing in around Vergil. The entire arena was covered in electrical patterns.

The fire ball crashed into the ground, spinning out of control as Vergil was hoisted into the air. His arms and legs wrapped in the web of red. Arms pulled out, legs together, Vergil came face to face with the creature.

“You are strong for a human,” Griffon mocked inching closer. “I have served my master for a millennium and never failed him! What can a half-blood hope to accomplish against the demonic legacy of Mundus?”

"How can the bird that is born for joy, sit in a cage and sing?" Vergil quoted pulling the strings forward. With immense strength he brought the gauntlets together. "How can a child, when fears annoy…"

Griffon lunged as the web shattered. Vergil held the beaks open with his gloves and boots, staring into the mouth of the demon. Fire covered both Vergil and the inside of Griffon’s mouth, as the web of electricity whipped around them.

“But droop his tender wing and forget his youthful spring!” Vergil finished and launched into the air. He slammed a fist into Griffon’s left eye and vanished in a blur.

Griffon shouted in pain, crashing into the ground and spewing blood. The devil cried with its blackened tongue and ruined eye. Fire rained down from the sky upon him, as Griffon rolled to its feet. Cursing in pain he didn’t even see Vergil land beneath him and slam a fist into his stomach. The energy within scattered, leaving a dim blue glow.

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO POWERFUL!!?" Griffon gasped trying to catch his breath. Thunder booming in the sky, he drooled saliva everywhere, chest glowing dimmer and dimmer.

Vergil let the Ifrit vanish with a flash, drawing the Yamato and holding it with both hands. He raised it above his head and froze, watching, waiting.

Stretching both wings wide, Griffon began to glow with power. His chest went from blue to red  and finally white. Glowing like the sun Griffon let loose a bolt of lightning so blinding, the Colosseum disappeared in its glow. At impossible speeds it shot forth and Vergil brought the Yamato down to match it.

The bolt split in two, going left and right. The stands on either side were shredded by the sheer power. The Yamato just touching the ground glowed. Air that had been parted collapsed back in with a vacuum, drawing all the rubble together. Griffon fell sideways, his left wing severing, foot split up to the ankle and face shaved off one side. Blood gushed everywhere; bolts of energy flickered from its center. Burning feathers floated in the air and split into pieces as Vergil sheathed the blade.

Both were within the magic circle, blood somehow filling between the marks but not covering them. The blueish glow of the circle turned red, and the Colosseum began to twist and distort around them.

Griffon looked to the skies and opened its blood-soaked mouth. "MASTER!!! GRANT ME ONE LAST SURGE OF POWER! THE POWER TO FINISH HIM!"

“Your master has no power here,” Vergil told walking towards the demon and drawing the Force-Edge. “Stay still and I’ll grant you death.”

“Griffon…” boomed a voice even more terrifying than the Griffon’s. The stone around them seemed to shake from the words.

Vergil turned around and saw the sky twisting into a cyclone. The red energy of Griffon being absorbed into something massive.  Three large orbs took shape, cracking with enough power that it might bring the sky down upon them. Whatever this was distorted and bent reality in its mass. What they saw now was only a representation of what was trying to enter the human realm.

"You have failed me; you are no longer worthy," boomed the horrible voice.

"Master... MASTER NO!!!" Griffon begged; his body too broken to stand.

Blue bolts of electrical energy shot down, tearing apart Griffin piece by piece, flesh splitting and tearing. The face melted, energy within collapsing and exploding repeatedly. Feathers, ash, and blood filled the arena as the energy whipped about. Slowly the bird demon was reduced to bone and then dust. A horrific laugh rang out, shaking the stadium. Vergil watched the orbs looming above swirl and fade. The very sky seemed to stretch in on itself as that indescribable power vanished.

Frozen, Vergil flinched as Trish touched his shoulder. They both looked pale in the rays of light between the parting clouds.

“Mundus knows no mercy,” she said watching the sky clear. “I’m shaking knowing he is too powerful for any of this to matter.”

“There is one stronger than Mundus,” Vergil said gripping the Yamato tight. “My father defeated him, and I need his power.”

“Vergil… I don’t want to watch you die. Maybe we can run..” Trish began, but Vergil cut her off.

“I do not run; this is my destiny. My father’s path is my own.” Vergil’s eyes burned with hatred. “I swear by my father Sparda… and my mother, I will claim my birthright.”

 Taking a few steps into the magic circle, Vergil drew the Yamato. The runes glowed underneath him, pulsing with an unknown light.

“You don’t even have the Wheel of Destiny. Without it, you can’t reach the Twilight Castle, ” Trish told him looking annoyed. “Lucky for you, I know it’s hidden under this circle.”

Not listening, Vergil waved the Yamato over the pentacle. Then with all his strength he cut into the air, a torrent blasting out as a portal was cut open. The runes were spinning underneath, the Yamato glowing red. Inside the portal was what looked like Mallet Island but bathed in a strange blue light. Flashes of lightning, rain, and the Twilight Castle floating not in the ocean but over a vast black void.

“Trish, you may run away,” Vergil said looking at her from the corner of his eyes to hide his face. “You might find some happiness before Hell destroys this world.”  

Vergil stepped through and vanished, leaving Trish in the middle of the blood covered Colosseum.

For a moment she let her long hair blow in the wind, eyes closed. The human realm’s sun warmed her skin as it climbed into the air. She took a deep breath and then in a bolt of lightning was gone as well.

Chapter Text

The darkness was broken up by a flash of lightning. Here the Twilight Castle’s aura was surreal, Limbo’s twisted reflection of the real world. Standing still you could hear countless whispers, see the shadows moving and feel rooms breath.

Vergil walked to the portcullis, which had been reshaped into a demonic face. It retained the same large cut from before, so Vergil stepped through feeling it breathing down upon him. Now inside of the castle, he could feel the temperature drop.

He stepped into the entrance hall; the giant horseback statue stood with its spear pointing up to broken glass above. The statue of the angel was now strangely absent, no sign that it had ever been there. His breath beginning to show, Vergil saw ice spreading from wall to wall, creatures crawling out of the broken dome and descending.

Lizards covered in ice, towering over Vergil gathered around him. The exits were now covered in a sheet ice as the demons circled. Their clawed hands beginning to drip forming long spikes.

“He is waiting,” one of the frosts whispered.

“The reunion of the sons,” another called.

They didn’t seem to attack, surrounding him and pointing to the only unfrozen door. Vergil stood stone faced, ready to attack.

“Our master awaits.”

Never speaking, Vergil took their leave and pushed the doors open. The long hallway twisted longer than before. As he marched on, physics began to move away from what normal people know. The pillars breathed, floor rippled, everything bowed inward and outward. One moment, Vergil was stepping upon the old carpet, next he was stepping around a chandelier that was floating perpetually upward.

The marionettes lay upon the floor in rows, shadow people with unnaturally long arms standing above them. When Vergil reached them, both the puppet and shadow would perform a haphazard salute.

The windows were now blacked out by the shapes of floating wraiths. Their boney hands scratched the glass calling in, doll like mask eyeless. They called out to Vergil as he passed with their shrill voices.

“The Dark Slayer!!”

“Vergil the Unsealer!!”

 “Sparda's heir!”

At the end of the hall, the next door was wide open, but inside this door was blackness, a void of space. The frost and the marionettes gathered around as Vergil reached it. He could sense something large coming and glanced back. A black liquid was beginning to flow down the hall, consuming the demons in its path. It seemed to be filled with corpses and metal.

Touching the void in front of him, it did not permit Vergil. Having little time before that black goo came crashing into him, he drew Yamato across the blackness. A ripple rang out as though the castle had been made of water. The hallway behind twisted, going downward like a slide. The ceilings rose higher and out of sight, layers of reality snapping and twisting.

Now with only forward to go, the doorway lead to a parlor. Large couches sat on other side of a large stained-glass window. The floor was checkered, and long crimson curtains flowed with an unknown breeze.

Vergil stepped through; this was no trap. A third cushioned chair had been pulled before the window; a knight sprawled out in it. His legs spread; head bowed as he slunk down in the chair. 

Nelo-Angelo had broken away his armor from his chest, left arm and face. His burned skin darkened, deep gashes covering him. Veins of glowing energy flowed up and down, glowing red and purple. A mane of white hair flowed down his back and reaching down to his knees. The face of Dante was visible, scarred with unfeeling dead eyes. His large clawed right hand was playing with a silver amulet that matched Vergil’s. At the shoulder you could see where new demonic flesh and human met.

"Is this what you've become?” Vergil asked stepping into the room. Dante raised his head, eyes unblinking as they looked towards him. “How you have fallen.”

“I am…” Dante began looking confused. “I have been charged with killing the Son of Sparda.”  

“Dante, you cannot kill me,” Vergil frowned coming closer. His brother sat up, almost looking frightened by him. “As far as you have fallen, there are two Sons of Sparda.”

Hair blowing in that same unknown wind as the curtains, Dante stood up and outstretched his human hand. The Rebellion blazed to life in a torrent of shadow. The blade looked as though it had been broken and reforged with the same metal as the armor, twisting rust color patterns covering it.

“Even as twins, I am the oldest,” Vergil said loosening his tie and letting it drop. “You are my responsibility and in the name of our father, I shall put you out of your misery Dante.”

“I shall honor my emperor," Nelo-Dante told pointing the long sword at him. The scarred face smiled as best it could with some faint recognition. “Let’s dance.”

Vergil took stance, flicking the Yamato out slightly and crouching. Nelo-Angelo bent forward and held his sword behind him with both hands. They both were bathed in the light flashing and booming outside. Both weapons glowed in the darkness around them, as the room seemed to close in on the two figures. Iron candlesticks flickered all around them and a blood red moon was glowing outside.

Both vanished faster than eyes can see. Dante’s Rebellion crashed into the ground as he ducked under a flash of the Yamato. The blades met, the glass shattering and floating in the air. Both pushed, not giving an inch, and vanished again.

“You still have your strength,” Vergil told, candlesticks behind him splitting as he sheathed his weapon. “Now let’s see that pride!”

Dante held the broadsword on his shoulder, walking forward. Phantom swords gathered above, all aiming straight down for him. Running, the dark knight spun the blade above like a disk to deflect the projections as his blade glowed with fury.

Larger blades formed behind Vergil, almost spear like in their build. Shooting forward, they cracked the air. Dante slid to a stop and gripped with both hands, unleashing dark flames with each swing. The ghostly blades shattered against the raw power, Vergil fading away as the wall was beat with energy.

“Foolishness Dante,” Vergil mocked, Yamato meeting Rebellion. For a second slashes whipped around the room from unseen attacks. Four shock waves ended with the katana slamming into Dante’s middle. “Foolishness.”

Stepping back, the younger twin held his gut. No blood came forth, the wound sealing. Red energy began glowing around him, cracking with devilish power. With a cry, the armor began cracking trying to contain the aura that overflowed. The Rebellion opened its jaw wide, and darkness wrapped around Dante’s feet.

“I remember,” Dante mused. “I remember that home and our family. Our fights.”

“Stand down and leave this to me,” Vergil said faster than he meant. “Give me the amulet.”

Dante grabbed the chain around his neck. “You have time for one more game… right?” 

His demon arm cracked, skin tearing back to reveal a mixture of gun and flesh again. Dante aimed it, a wicked smile on his face. The cannon sparked to life, firing energy like a minigun and peppering the wall with holes.

Vergil ran up the wall, stone breaking behind him. Leaping off the katana slammed into the ground where Dante had been. Above Dante kicked off the ceiling raining spiraling bullets upon Vergil.

With a burst of light, Vergil transformed and the flaming Ifrit took shape on his arms. Dante landed and Vergil kicked off the ground, becoming a spinning wheel of fire. The two met, Dante blocking the metal gauntlets with his sword and shooting a phantom blade behind him simultaneously.

The Yamato flashing stabbed into Dante’s false arm, pushing it above his head. The blade should have cut it, but the flesh kept reforming and holding on. The two looked at each other just a moment, Vergil seeing a flash of fear.

Pummeling Dante with his left fist, Vergil felt the attacks not landing. The fallen twin protected by some magical barrier, bared his teeth, and slammed his head into Vergil with a crunch.

Returning to human form, Vergil could see his brother in slow motion. The signs of Mundus playing with his body, torturing him, breaking him. With a flick, Vergil pulled the Yamato through the false hand and pieces of the gun Ivory flew everywhere. But Vergil also lost his grip, the katana flying across the room.

The two separated, Vergil’s face had blood running down it, staining his white hair. Dante breathed hard but was not looking at Vergil. His attention seemed to be on the bloodstained moon, shining down on them through the broken window.

“I need our father’s power Dante,” Vergil told drawing the Force-Edge and stabbing it into the stone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have seen what Mundus is capable of and we can’t allow him to enter the human realm.”

“He’s in my mind,” Dante admitted covering his face. “My head is filled with memories of us, of pain and of servitude.

Leaving the sword behind him, Vergil walked forward. “If you hadn’t got in my way all those years ago…” He was straining to speak. The image of Dante fallen so low, so damaged was hard for him to look at. “The things I did to obtain power, they felt like they were for this day. I can use our father’s strength and destroy Mundus.”

“You and your damn power! It’s what damned us to this hell!!” Dante shouted as darkness filling the room.

Vergil closed his eyes, trying to let go, trying to find something to say. A mixture of anger for all these wasted years, the pain and sadness he buried deeper. The need to make Dante understand.

“He killed our mother,” finally came weakly. “I’ve hurt you, but this need… maybe it has a reason now. I don’t care about the humans or their world. But I must avenge her Dante, I must defend our father’s legacy. Both halves of me must stop him and I can only do that with his power.”

Dante calmed again, pain grimacing his face for a moment. His eyes seemed clear, as something seemed to relent inside him. Dante pulled the amulet off, snapping the chain and held it out, smiling a painful smile. “You always got what you wanted. I guess…”

“You forget Dante, you are my pawn,” Mundus’s voice boomed shaking the room. The ceiling cracked and stretched endlessly above. The same three burning orbs blazed, heating the room with dreadful strength.

Dante’s eyes began to glow, and he pulled the amulet back to his chest. The darkness gathered around him, mixing with red energy. It took the shape of armor, a six slit horned helm glowing with light as the Rebellion returned to his outstretched hand.

Vergil picked up the Force-Edge. Gripping with both hands, he drew upon all his will power and soul. Rows of phantom swords appeared behind him, facing down in the shape of wings.

“I shall grant you mercy Dante,” he told his brother.

Nelo-Angelo held his weapon high, as rows of glowing red blades formed behind him. His own conjured blades had formed a aggressively glowing halo

They charged, glowing blades meeting and shattering. Hundreds of attacks clashed around them,  a phantom war protecting both brothers. As the Rebellion and Force-Edge clashed, they slid past each other, both twisting around to face each other. Red and blue blades swung wildly and shot into the ground as they both cried out, putting everything into the next attack.

Vergil felt the Rebellion go across his middle, nearly cutting him in two. The Force-Edge slammed into Nelo-Angelo, pushing past the dark armor and arching collar bone to hip. Both brothers fell, Nelo crashing to the ground, Vergil falling to his knees. The phantom blades vanished around them, blood pooling on the ground.

“Vergil… avenge her,” Dante said his amulet falling in a puddle of their blood. The dark armor vanished, and his face was hidden beneath his mane of long hair. “Kill Mundus, for her… for father, for me.”

“Dante… I’m sorry,” Vergil apologized holding his middle. He tried to stand, his muscles reforming as blood ran through his hands. “I never meant…”

Dante climbed to his feet. Each heavy step was a struggle for him. “Take responsibility! For those who need us… for those you hurt.”

Vergil looked at Dante, the years of torture and torment leaving him more the image of his father than twin.

”For most of my life I didn’t give a damn,” Dante told him walking closer. The wound wasn’t sealing, his flesh still oozing thick blood. He looked down at Vergil, eyes focused and clear, as put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Make things right.”

The ceiling shattered and flew upward, and the brothers were covered in twisting black flames. Vergil struggled up and reached out, his hand phasing through Dante’s shoulder. The two twins stared into each other’s eyes as Dante faded from Limbo and left Vergil alone under the blood red moon.

For a long time of silence Vergil stood still. His wounds had sealed, blood staining his clothes and hair. In his hand, Dante’s amulet gleamed in the moonlight. This moment had been his desire for over twelve years, before the Temen-ni-gru. Haunted by Dante denying him their father’s power, and all his insecurity.

Reaching in his vest, he drew his own golden mate and locked them together. The two joined as one beginning to glow with heat. The Force-Edge began to hum, the darkness of Limbo gathering around it in a torrent. Vergil let the amulet go and it burst into light, unsealing.

His father’s sword twisted and grew larger. The handle grew long, and the blade became a living thing, a hunk of blood, flesh, and bone fused to a large metal blade. In its center the gem sat, glowing like an eye. It was not elegant, but horrific and unholy. A true devil’s weapon.  

Vergil felt the same sense as when Arkham had transformed, but it was much purer. He took the handle and felt himself filled with a new power. The Devil Sword Sparda had been restored and Vergil let out a laugh. A rasping weak laugh from both his victory and exhaustion.

Now nobody would challenge him, nobody could harm him. It flooded him with pure unrelenting strength. Vergil would slay Mundus and use his powers to kill any and all that stood in his way.

But as much excitement that flooded him, fulfillment in his quest, Vergil felt cold and unsatisfied. Alone he stood, greatest of his kin. The true inheritor of his father's legacy, but the hole still remained. There was a sense of being overshadowed, like something so large and bold, Vergil himself was barely noticeable against it.

As Vergil turned to leave the parlor, he cast a large shadow, not his own but that of Sparda. He carried the weight of his and Dante’s legacy through those doors and towards their fate.

Chapter Text

“Failure,” Mundus boomed, his voice echoing. “Trish, come forth and kneel”

She approached; face hidden behind her long golden hair. She bowed went to her knees, never looking forward.

“Trish the son of Sparda draws near. Prove your loyalty to me or face the consequences of disobeying a god.”

“Yes master, I understand,” Trish answered emotionless in every word. She looked at her reflection in the marble, wondering who this face really belonged to.

Limbo’s shadows twisted like fire. The void around the castle was churning like the ocean as Vergil descended further from all that was human.

The path to the Cathedral was open. Vergil walked towards the entrance of Hell with his father’s namesake on his back and the Yamato in hand. The long hallway felt like it was sloping uphill just slightly, as if afraid to let him enter.

The inhabitants of Hell gathered, lizard demons, shadows, wraiths and marionets kneeled before Vergil as he passed. They shook with fear as they whispered and called to him.

“Sparda!”

“He returns!! The legendary dark knight!”

“Our new king!”

The hall seemed to twist, the floor melding with the walls and ceiling. The carpet was now above, and the great doors grown large enough to fit a giant through. While all the demons stood statue like, one floated in the way of the door. A wraith with a goat’s head and scythe in hand.

“I shall stand against you, seed of Sparda!” The Death-Scythe told drawing up its weapon. “Die for your father’s SINS!!”

The weapon slid through a portal and went for Vergil’s back. With only a turn, grasping the handle, Vergil blocked the strike and held the Devil Sword Sparda pointing at the creature. It let out a laugh, drawing the weapon back through the portal and holding it above it’s head.

With a wet snap and a metal grind the Sparda extended. The blade traveled up the bone and muscle, tendon loosening, ligament holding on as it crashed into the skull. The sheer size of the blade smashed it to pieces and the edge cut through the folds of cloth as it snapped back into its normal shape.

Walking past the scythe embedded in the ground, Vergil pushed open the large and curved doors to see the cathedral was upside down, the domed roof dipping. Everything was bathed in an orange light, steam rising as many shapes danced on the floor that was now the ceiling.

At its center was glass, covering a vortex of swirling clouds and a round pedestal. The remains of the normal stain-glass hovered underneath, shattered. It was a nexus that connected the human and demon realms with Limbo.

“You can’t turn back from here,” came Trish’s voice. “Once you enter, you will not be able to escape Mundus’s eyes.”

“That is the point,” Vergil told sounding annoyed. He paced the glass, as it gave just a small bit to his boots. “With my father’s power I will end Mundus at long last.”

Feeling the pedestal, he knew he didn’t have whatever it wanted. It was not hard to guess it was one of those many objects Trish had told him about.

“Will it be enough?” Trish asked, still out of view. “Sparda sealed him away, unable to kill him. His strength is unknowable, his powers vast. He took the fruit of the devil tree and became more than just a demon, beyond any living thing.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vergil whispered. “Besides, didn’t I tell you to run away?” He drew the Yamato and held it above the glass with both hands.

Trish held her right hand out, lightning wrapping around it. The room sparked and glowed around her. “He has ordered me to kill you. Don’t make me do this!”

Vergil paused; the blade suspended above the portal. “I’ll call that bluff.” Then he dipped the Yamato through the glass, and it began to glow a deep red. Reality tore and warped, the glass cracking and distorting before becoming vapor. For a moment one could see themselves endlessly mirrored all around. Vergil felt as though he had been dipped into boiling water, his clothes floating upward as gravity weakened.

Trish’s hand went slack, her shoulders loosening, and eyes closed. “I was created to find you. You were my purpose, my fate. All that has been good, all that has been bad.”

“I have to take responsibility.” Vergil said drawing himself up. He sheathed his weapon and began sinking. “I am the Dark Knight Vergil and I will set this right, for you.”

The doors slammed open, lizard demons surrounding Trish with jaws slack and claws out. She stood there eyes wide staring at Vergil, even as the demons amassed around her.

“Traitor! TRAITOR!!” they called at her, circling and jeering. “KILL RIP TEAR!!”

“It’s time to make your own fate,” Vergil half yelled over the rush of air from the portal, his vision doubled between Trish and a vibrating red room.

From his hand bolts of blue lightning formed the sword Alastor. He threw the weapon at her feet, the blade sticking deep into the stone and standing grim before her.

Descending, leaving behind Limbo and piercing into Hell itself. Vergil saw Trish take up the sword and then nothingness. The smell of blood filled his senses, his boots met flesh and sinew.

This layer of hell was a horror that would drive most to madness. The walls were caverns of wet sticky flesh that tightened and slacked. The floor was covered in fluids, tongue like protrusions waggling around madly. The rooms were held up by bone and tendons that came from whatever horrible body this place was made of.

Turning to an arch way of bone overlayed with skin, Vergil cut his way into a long cavern. Here the floors were stone, hinting at what this place may have been before being overgrown with flesh. Runes and vents of steam peppered it, as the flesh pulsed on the walls and ceiling. There was a strange high pitch laughing echoing down the hall, followed by the sound of rocks smacking against each other.

Vergil scowled as he entered a large cavern filled with black organic flesh inlayed with skulls. Strange creatures crawled on all fours, with a giant arm attached to their back. They looked half formed, extra eyes bulging under exposed ribcages. Their brains were exposed, their face featuring no eyes nor skin, just a gaping mouth with giant teeth. They seemed to dance about as Vergil entered, clapping, falling over, and climbing on the walls. The racket they created matched only by the strange laugher and wails.

“We welcome you Sparda son,” one called.

“Welcome is you!” another laughed.

“And welcome is your father, hail Sparda! Let us taste that power again!”

Ignoring them, Vergil walked towards one of the many tunnels attached to this room. The nobodies crawled up, covering most the exits with their bodies. The five hands digging into the flesh and they beginning to laugh hysterically in unison.

“Play us a game Sparda son, play us a game!!?” they called. Dancing around, the others climbed onto the ceiling and began cartwheeling.

“The more you take, the more you leave behind… what am I?” one screeched.

“I know a word of letters three. Add two and fewer there will be. What word am I?”

“Look at my face and I am somebody, look at my back and I am nobody. What am I?”

Vergil still ignoring them, reached one of the exits. Here one of the monkey demons held on with its gnarled hands, teeth chattering. It looked up at him with it’s skinless face and choked out, “What has no body and no nose?”

“Nobody knows,” Vergil muttered looking disgusted and reached behind him. The Devil Sword came up and took the shape of a scythe. The blade came crashing down, tearing off three of the five arms and leaving the creature cartwheeling.

They all began laughing and choking. Some began slapping each other randomly and moaning strange names. Vergil threw the Devil Sword and it circled like a boomerang, cutting through the spider creatures with ease. As the blade swirled, he drew the Yamato and slammed it back into its sheath. For a moment the room seemed to split, one half stretching away from the rest as air and space separated.

Catching the overlarge sword, Vergil walked away. The Nobodies stood still as statues, till one let out the slightest cough. All of its brethren fell to pieces, cut clean into four pieces each.

“Come,” the demon realm seemed to call. The room began to go downward, holes in the walls dripping with small fountains of blood that ran downhill. “Come o’ son of Sparda and face me.”

At the bottom of Hell, there was a large pit. There in that hollow, a heart the size of a school bus beat with a defaming thump. The center seventh flesh layer of Hell, the very heart of the underworld beat among fountains of blood. Around it, black marble stones floated and above it, a large ivory door stood. This was so alien to the flesh and bone, so ornate and untouched by filth that it seemed an illusion.

Vergil felt as though his skin was on fire. His body was pulsing with a power from the underworld. His father’s sword beat in time with the heart and his vision seemed to grow bright with color. The devil in Vergil called this place home, while the human sank into his gut, detest and revulsion on an instinctual level screaming out.

He leapt stone to stone, the chunks of marble dipping only a little from the new weight. Soon the ivory doors were before him, large enough to let an entire building pass through. The stone opened on its own, light streaming in from the crack, blinding and pure.

The unreal horror of the fleshy underworld gave way. Now everything was bathed in purity. A cathedral bleached white and bathed in light. The floor looked waxed and reflected the ornate ceiling above. In that monochrome, Vergil looked at his hand to see color again, before his eyes were drawn upward.

Pillars and columns rose far into the air ahead of him. On either side was endless white and at the end of it all a shrine. At its center was a statue in the shape of a man sitting in a carved chair. He was angelic and perfect. As if someone had carved the arch angel Gabriel, but with three eyes. Long stone hair lay upon a chiseled body of perfection, draped waist down in robes.

“Again, I must face a Sparda… A strange fate, isn’t it?” the statue echoed. It was as if the room was speaking to Vergil, his very bones shaken by the voice.

Vergil drew the Sparda and pointed it at the statue. “Is it so strange? It’s you who brought me here.”

“Such strength, perhaps you could serve a higher purpose. A unification of human and demon realms, a world reflective of your own existence. Join my cause and see the world reshaped to our vision.”

“And why would I do that? Enemy of my father, murderer of my mother and enslaver of my kin?”

Vergil’s shadow grew, the shape of Sparda gaining strength as its wings spread out. The Devil Sword called to fight it’s enemy, to serve its true purpose.   

“Your father was nothing but a traitor. As for the kin you so dearly care for…” The statue’s eyes glowed with a wicked power.

Trish stepped out from behind one of the many pillars. There was no sign of recognition in those blank eyes. Her skin and hair were paled by the pure light of Mundus.

"You think this will stop me?" Vergil asked the Sparda still in hand. Trish fired electricity at him, only to have it reflected square in her chest. She crashed to the ground, smoking, and wounded, only to rise again.

“Good, show me that inhumanity.” Mundus’s three eyes began to glow, three red points in the distance.

Vergil began to walk forward, taking each step towards his enemy. Behind him, the shadow of Sparda followed and gathered darkness in the chapel.

Three glowing spikes fired from the statue’s eyes, they seemed to phase through Vergil, but as they crashed into the ground, he was a few steps to the right. Three more fired, once again he moved so fast it was as if he never broke stride, just was moved to the left. Both son and father raised the namesake sword and batted the net glowing spikes away, shattering them. It was on the fourth attack, where the first two spikes came hurling and crashed against the blade, the third shot past him.

Vergil swung the blade upward and turned bringing it down upon the missile. The spike had been aimed for Trish; the attack well clear of him. As the energy dissipated, Vergil buckled, a large flaming bolt lodged in his ankle and into the ground.

"Do you know why I made her look this way Vergil? Because I knew you were weak.” Mundus’s laugh echoed through the hall. Trish herself let out a gasp and melted into a black goo that slithered around the floor. “I knew that the human blood in you would be your downfall. Does seeing your dear mother's image bother you so? I ordered her death, I made another. I am beyond your mortal life and death.”

Vergil looked up at the still motionless Mundus, as a black liquid flowed around him. His skin was on fire as it touched him, the bolt seared his leg. The goo wrapped his body with devilish pain, till the cathedral and statue disappeared. A cocoon of sick, bone and slime were dragging him out of existence.

“Such weakness. I have defined your life and fear has made you my slave.”

The house was on fire, Eva was running through calling a name. Vergil figured she must have been calling for Dante, trying to find where he’d run off to. There were explosions, the family home crying out as it’s supports collapsed.

Eva pushed open doors and called out, only to be face to face with a skeleton. It stood giant over her, a crown of ivory thrones and a giant marble sword with three dots adorning it.

“Where were you Vergil?”

“Where was I?” Vergil asked in confusion. For a moment he was drawn to the window, a small child impaled on the iron fence outside.

“You are dead Vergil…”

He tried to look at his hands, but he wasn’t even sure who he was. Vergil was dead, the demons had killed him.

The skeleton charged Eva, throwing her to the ground and tearing at her dress. It lifted the giant sword into the air and an explosion of flame wrapped them both as the blade came down. Everything was eaten by the flames, everything going dark.

The shadow that watched all this was pulled away, into an endless sea of black. From the still water spikes shot into the sky. Above them was impaled was the shape of Vergil, the broken and defenseless boy not moving.

The surface rippled, a mass drew up a shape made of plate and bone. It was an armored slug that skulls clung to. It opened, the plates tearing apart to reveal an orb of light that began feeding on the shadow.

“You failed them,” came a weak voice.

The shape of Sparda split from the slug, a dripping twisting version of the horned demon. He drew closer and closer to the shadow, it’s former son. Every second part of this person’s soul was draining away, feeding the nightmare.

There was a hum, a faint light in that darkness. The shadow reached down and from within himself drew up a familiar red gem. It hummed again, glowing as the only source of light in Vergil’s emaciated fingers.

“You were my heir, my hope. You abandoned everything for power,” Sparda moaned out of a twisted mouth.

Inside the gem, Vergil could see Trish standing on a tower of the castle. He knew she was waiting for someone. He saw Dante broken in a pool water, dragging himself against stone. The gem shifted in different angles, showing Eva and Sparda embracing, Dante and Vergil fighting as children. The hum seemed to grow weak, and Vergil saw himself reflected.

“Return to nothing,” Mundus told.

“Nothing,” Sparda echoed.

Vergil drew himself up, the gem in hand. With all his strength he punched the gem and his fist the image of his father. The shape exploded and Vergil looked at the slug trying to close in on its orb.  

Within Mundus’s Hall the egg of black liquid that held Vergil began to glow. Light shot out from within and there were the moans of countless demons till it finally exploded. There among the remains, a shadow grew large. The image of darkness in the shape of Sparda spread itself out as Vergil straightened to his full height. At his feet was the large glowing orb, engraved with runes. With both the namesake sword and a shadowed twin, the father and son pierced down into the heart of the nightmare, shattering it.

“So be it,” Mundus boomed. The statue cracked and burst into light. The room shattered, falling away into a void. Stars and planets flowed past them, light and dark mixing in a flash of colors.

Vergil transformed into his own demonic image but changed. His wings spread, blue energy firing out of his back, shoulders, and horns like exhausts flamed blue. Behind him, the image of Sparda grew larger and glowed with a mixture of red, purple, and black flames. Both held the same sword, one a glowing physical weapon, the other ethereal and massive.

Mundus took shape from the light, still gigantic and statue like but now animated. He gritted his teeth, staring with three eyes burning with hatred. Instead of the young angelic appearance, this was much more God like. Curled hair and beard, large angel wings and muscle, all ivory and reflective in the void. In the center of his chest, a gaping wound had been carved. Deep inside, space seemed to stretch on forever, three glowing red orbs twisting and glowing.

Moving through space, Mundus flew backward. Symbols, runes and magic circles floated around him, firing lasers and blast of energy. The weaker of these did not reach Vergil, broken by his aura. Dodging the rest, the reptilian demon flew faster and faster towards the false god.

Lifting his hand, Mundus was surrounded by meteors. With a simple motion, they shot past blazing with fire. The phantom Sparda cut each hunk rock, a shockwave blazing with color as Vergil flew past protecting him.

Cosmic storms formed, lightning and cloud parting as the trail of light shot toward the emperor. Mundus held out his hands, grabbing the phantom sword in one and the real weapon in the other. His massive hands held both blades, fingers closed on them.

The two struggled, Mundus stared into the spectral Sparda calling his name in fury. Spinning, moving faster and faster the two broke. Vergil stabbed up into Mundus’s chest, the ghost slamming its blade across their enemies’ chest.

Roaring in pain meteors rained down on Vergil, smashing into him. Each strike he slashed at Mundus he was also struck with a ball of flaming rock, till Mundus with all his strength swung down his fist. Blocking the attack Vergil was flung away, falling towards something. Smoke and steam clouded his vision and he smashed into the ground.

The brimstone he awoke on burned his clothes and skin. Having returned to human form, he stood up alone. Magma shot out and rained upon the ashen stone, the ground shook and wailed. Mundus descended from the sky and crashed into the lava, his wings shadowing everything.

“I will crush you, break you and make you my slave!” Mundus yelled lightning crashing in response. “Then the sons of Sparda will lead my assault into the human realm.”

Vergil with all his might threw the Sparda, a spinning disk of fire that bounced off the emperor of hell’s arm as he batted it away. Mundus smashed his fist where Vergil had stood, leaving a crater that filled with lava. Running to outpace the next attack, Vergil drew the Yamato from the air and leapt up. Landing on Mundus’s arm as it crashed into the ground, he sliced rapidly running towards the stone face.

Crying out in pain, Mundus brought his other arm up with surprising speed. Vergil blocked the fist that was larger than himself, the Yamato chipping as he was sent into the air. Swinging upright Vergil concentrated, drawing all his power into an attack. He moved at blinding speed, the Yamato cutting space and time as he seemed to cut countless slashes at the same time. Mundus stumbled back, stone flying everywhere as blue light filled the area.

Landing in the dirt, Vergil sheathed the sword. He felt his lungs empty as he was caught by a fist. Crushed into the ground, Vergil felt his bones shattering and begin healing. He was bleeding, struggling to mend fast enough to stand.

“FOUL CHILD OF MAN!!” Mundus cried bringing the fist down again. Vergil made no sound, only lay there caked in dirt and blood. “FOUL SEED OF SPARDA!!! “

As the King of Hell raised another fist and the name echoed out, he gasped. The Sparda shot through his back and out his chest. For a moment blood and a miniature galaxy spread from the hole, three red orbs glowing in its center. Vergil held his arm up, hand grasping the hilt as it returned to him.

Empowered and drawing every bit of power that the sword would give, Vergil launched at Mundus. The phantom of his father wrapping around him and the blade, as they pierced Mundus’s chests once more.

There was a cry, and everything shattered. For a moment Vergil felt no gravity and slid upon the waxed floor of the cathedral.

Chapter Text

Body aching, Vergil stood leaning the Sparda. He had mostly healed, but exhaustion was setting in. The light that shown perpetually in the unholy cathedral went out, the ground beginning to stir and crack around him. Soon the marble was sinking, blood flowing down the walls as the ceiling began to collapse.

The Sparda had gone dormant and cold, the demonic aura growing faint. Its enemy had fallen and now it was time for the blade to rest. Filled with a sense of loneliness, Vergil took a few steps forward.

Vergil saw the giant ivory doors had already begun to be covered with the fleshy filth of Hell. Regaining his balance, he threw his strength behind his sword and shattered the door to pieces.

The sounds of demons came rushing in. The halls of meat and bone moaned, demons called out in horror as Mundus’s presence faded. Hell was in a panic; the dark lord had fallen. Now the flesh was falling into further pits of the Underworld.

None of them paid Vergil mind as he retraced his steps. Leaning on his weapon, he felt sweat dripping down his forehead. The living hell seemed to be having a heart attack, the massive booms of its heart thundering. Bones crashing down and piercing the ceiling horrifically.

“Apocalypse!!” shouted a demon.

“Doomsday!! Run!!!”

Vergil reached the vortex of twisting energy that led to the human world. It was out of control, grown large and whipping all over the room.  One lizard devil ran forward leaping into it, only to be spat out in a torrent of blood.

Standing up straight and taking a deep breath, Vergil reached in and pulled himself through. The twisting energy around him tore at his skin and roared in his ears. For a moment he could see the castle hall filled with sunlight, then it twisted into a dark version with shadows fleeing in rows.

His body straining to not be crushed, Vergil pushed on. For a moment he thought he would be flattened with the weight of two planets colliding, Limbo and Earth fighting to claim him. Suddenly feeling his boot meet stone, Vergil felt the pressure lift.

The room was silent and cold now. The large statue of a horseback knight stood tall over him, and the stairs twisted upward behind him. Vergil was back in the entrance hall of the Mallet Castle.

The building shook with the horrific moans of wood bending, stone crashing underneath. Something was shaking the entire island and threatened to bring this place down upon him. Leaning against the stair rail, Vergil looked at the sky above through broken windows. The sun radiated down upon him, strangely alien after having struggled through the darkness for hours.  

“Did you…” Trish’s voice came distantly. Vergil looked up at her coming down the stairs, his eyes dark from exhaustion. “Did you kill him?”

“I disembodied him,” he explained. “Once the portal seals, he will be trapped for another few millenniums again.”

“So, I’m free…,” Trish trailed off. She laughed and gave a weak smile. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s not my problem,” Vergil said weakly as he began to collapse. Trish caught him and helped him stand back up. “But you could come with me.”

Trish almost let him drop, trying to look at him. “Come with you?”

“We could travel. Since you seem so interested in the world,” he muttered tiredly. “But if you want to go your own way…”

“No, no, that sounds nice.” Trish’s voice was soft, almost reserved as Vergil took his weight off her.  

“Now is a bad time for this,” Vergil admitted as one of the stone pillars collapsed. “We should get out of this place.”

Trish laughed as dust fell from the ceiling, only to lock up. The dirt began to rise, a massive aura filling the castle as it shook.

“VERGIL!!” The castle boomed all around. The dark voice of the damned emperor called, and the room seemed to bend in on them.

 The walls glowed with runes, a magic circle flashing on the ground. Vergil stepped backward, feeling pain running through his arm as he drew his father’s namesake. Beside him, Trish gasped in horror.

“The portal to Hell is open and I will not be stopped by another SPARDA!”

Mundus’s ivory hand tore through the portal, bursting out of the stonewall. It crashed into the large staircase and shattered the statue as another arm came out. From the shoulders the stone skin had broken away, revealing red and yellow tendons whipping everywhere.

The ground gave way, crashing into rooms underneath. Vergil twisted midair, both seeing and grabbing Trish’s hand. She held onto a pillar as Vergil kicked against the stone and leapt beside her. The room had crashed into the dungeon and sewers underneath. Pieces of the castle sank into the water below as the ceiling continued to tremble.

Outside there were the booms of the tower collapsing onto the shore. Vergil and Trish fled into the open air, seeing the castle sinking inward. Around them water was splashing on all sides, tearing away at the island violently.

Flesh stretching to hold it together, Mundus’s head and body crawled up the slope of rubble. His broken wings were at odd angles, skinless hands erupting from within his body to grasp rock and stone. He took a swing, shattering what was left of the entrance and dragged himself out using shear force to give chase.

Mundus emerged from the pit, growing larger. Only pieces of the torso and arms were still intact outside of the face. More hands, sinew and eyes ripped out. The mass of meat seemed to keep growing. It was as if Mundus’s stone body was only a shell to keep his immense form constrained.

The waves raged, becoming a torrent around the island. Soon from the outside, people would only be able to see a tsunami. In its center was the glowing portal to Hell.

“This world will be MI…” Mundus began, but Trish fired a lightning bolt from her fingertips into the face. It split and three veined eyes tore out, bulging and pulsing.

“You still got some fight left in you?” Trish asked Vergil glowing with all the power she could generate.

“Hrmp… you never know when to leave, do you?” Vergil laughed and held the Sparda up. “This is not going to end well.”

“Let’s give him hell!”

Trish’s body became pure energy and fired into Mundus’s shoulder. Taking shape again, she drove the sword Alastor into his neck. Roaring in pain the emperor slapped his shoulder, only to have the Sparda rake across his neck.

“Pitiful flies!” Mundus cried and slammed his fist into the ground. The island shook violently, more of ground falling into the growing hole where the castle had stood. “What can a human do against a god?”

“Something other than shout!” Trish called, a bolt striking one of the eyes. Every time Mundus brought his fist down, she discharged and vanished. But as she took shape on the fourth go, a red stake fired from within the devil and into her rib.

“TRISH!” Vergil cried out and sliced countless hands off. With every slash he cut away at Mundus’s flesh, but more seemed to spill out. Eyes twisted within, hands grabbing at him, it never seemed to end.

With all his strength Vergil extended the weapon into the trio of eyes. He stepped back and would have been gone, but the flesh he’d torn away had formed new misshapen fingers that gripped onto his legs.

“TRASH!!” Mundus brought up what had been an arm, now comprised of was countless hands and tentacle like tendons.

The tendril fell, everything went black. Vergil felt himself lose his grip on his weapon. Even though he could feel the sun, there was no light. Mundus roared thousands of laughters from within himself. Both appendages went to the sky and whipped around each other.

As they came down to kill the son of Sparda, Trish darted in the way. She grabbed up the demonic sword and cut straight through. Blood spraying everywhere, Trish collapsed to her knee. Mundus’s arms crashed and withered, himself sprouting another large twisting flesh tendril from his back.

“Daughter… how dare you defy me. Do you think you feel what humans call love? Remember what you are! Just a defective creation!!!”

New erupting eyes began to glow, muscle stretching over to loom down upon them. Trish fell back onto Vergil, flashes of light signaling each laser that pierced her flesh. The Sparda lay among the rocks, Vergil’s body broken as he weakly reached out for the weapon. As the eyes began to glow once more with hate and power, Vergil thought he could see a shadow step in front of them. At first, he couldn’t focus. There was only purest light and the shadow.

“Dante!” Trish called out.

“Dante?” Vergil asked feeling his fingers, but his shoulder was in pieces. Pain was beginning to register as his body mended.

The laser reflected and crashed into the writhing flesh. The Rebellion glowed with a hot hatred and power in Dante’s hand. He clad in what was left of his demon armor, hair blowing in the wind. His body was too thin, scarred, and frail. but somehow, he looked powerful as he stood his ground.

“Get Vergil out of here,” Dante ordered. Trish looked at him, his eyes glowing with intent. “I’ve got a plan and it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Dante, you can’t…” Trish began, but Dante’s eyes met hers. “Right… right…”

Trish grabbed Vergil under the arms and began to drag him. Vergil fought against her and reached out his hand, grasping towards his brother.

“Dante… DANTE!!” he called out. Vergil wanted to kick, to stand and fight, but his body refused.

“Adios,” Dante called, waving with two fingers. The mass that was Mundus roared with fury around him. “Let’s rock.”

Running forward, Dante slid under a fleshy swing and leapt up. Using magic, he kicked off the air and avoided a blast of energy. His long white hair whipped around him, the sun gleaming pale against his skin.

His metal boots crashed into Mundus’s skinless form. Hands shot up and grabbed him, dragging Dante waist deep into the flesh. Laughter and curses echoed out, hands pulling at his hair.

“What kind of plan was this?” Mundus asked. Three glowing eyes twisting out of the mass to stare at Dante from three different angles. “Where are they supposed to go? You are all trapped in here with me!!”

Ripping his hands free and raising the Rebellion into the air, Dante bit his lip. “I’ve had a lot of time to think trapped in that armor. If the Yamato’s power is to split and divide… well then…” he grabbed the sword by the blade and put it to his chest.

“Let’s just see what this can do!”

With a gasp, Dante drove the sword into himself. His body began to glow white, the sword piercing down into Mundus. The eyes of the dark lord widened, and he cried out in horror. The writhing mountain of flesh began to glow and retracted.

“NO, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Mundus’s voice called as he sank back towards the portal. His body seemed to pull in all directions, as if fighting with itself.

“Come on Mundus, let’s go back to Hell… together!” Dante’s voice came from within, the same boom as his former slaver.

“Let us embrace the hate!” their voices cried in unison.

Spiraling inward, the hands grasped at the stones. The portal to the demon realm cracked and sparked as it was fed flesh upon flesh. The light from it grew so intense it was like a second sun, wiping everything out.

“Dante!” Vergil cried out in that nothingness. He dug his hands in the dirt, pulling himself out of Trish’s grasp.

With a final snap, the portal closed. The light faded and Mallet Island had been reduced to a flat surface, no greenery nor rock. In its center was a crater, black and burned from the battle.

“He saved us,” Trish said hands covering her face. “Dante sealed Mundus away.”

Vergil let out a shout, his voice dying as he gasped and yelled out again. He beat his fist on the ground, feeling no pain. The terrible swell of emotion rocked and shook him violently. Dante was gone again; Vergil was too weak again. Even with the power that he’d fought so hard for, that he had traded his blood for, Vergil couldn’t even save his brother. Tears ran down his face, unable to stop the torrent inside himself.

Trish put a hand on his back, time holding still. There was nothing to be said, just silence but for the crashing of the waves around them. 

The next morning a fishing boat came humming towards the island. The fisherman looked nervous as he saw Vergil and Trish sitting by the shore. The two were a strange sight on the now flattened island, no castle, no rocks, just two figures waiting as the boat came closer.

“After that storm I didn’t think there would be anyone out here to retrieve,” he called dropping anchor. The old man looked intimidated as Vergil approached. “You look like hell boy. What is…”

“Don’t ask questions,” Vergil said cutting him off. He climbed into the boat, clothing torn, no wounds but covered in dirt and blood.

What the old man turned pale at wasn’t Vergil’s condition, but the huge fleshy chuck of a sword that Vergil set down. Contrastingly Trish hopped on board gracefully and smiled as if this was completely normal, shaking his hand and thanking him before taking her seat.

Chapter Text

Far away from Mallet Island or Redgrave City, Vergil walked an old bricked street. This place wasn’t the concrete and metal of where he lived, but more old-world and historic. In his hand he carried an old book, emblazed with a V.

He’d traveled a lot in his youth, but always in pursuit of something. Today however, he and Trish were here with no purpose or goal. They just were here for the sake of being here.

“This place is beautiful,” Trish said looking around with surprise. She had on a white laced dress, sunglasses and her hair pulled back. “These little rivers are so pretty!”

Down the manmade canals small boats floated. Men pushed them with long oars, taking tourist here or there.

“We can rent a gondola if you like,” Vergil explained looking up and motioning at the boats.

“You are going to spoil me,” Trish laughed. The sun caught gleaming in her hair, the inhumanly good looks betraying her nature.

Beside her Vergil looked as grim as ever. But he watched her with something other than his normal scowl, before returning to his book.

“We should go see the church, it’s so massive!” Trish said grabbing his hand.

“Religion isn’t really my thing.”

She led him up the road and stone steps until they reached the large wooden doors. Trish peered inside, a few clergy trying to ignore the tourist. She saw clean white marble floors gleaming in the light, large pillars surrounded by stain glass angels.

“Never mind…we can go to the gardens,” she decided looking disturbed and letting Vergil’s hand drop. “I don’t think this is my thing either.”

The awkwardness disappeared after a moment. They went around and through some. Vergil didn’t talk a lot, but Trish made up for it. Since exploring the human world, she had gained an excitement for everything. If that was fast food or flowers, she seemed more than enthused.

Among the roses, Trish had to shoo away a few men with strange accents. This devilishly attractive woman was all the talk wherever she went, and Trish enjoyed the attention. Vergil himself often spent more time in libraries and art, something she wasn’t as enthusiastic about.

“We should buy a house… or as they say ‘villa’,” Trish laughed plucking a rose and sitting down beside him. “There are so many places to see, food to eat, people to talk to.” Trish moved a finger down the rose, the peddles changing from red to blue. “It’s hard to believe my kind want to destroy all of this.”

“Maybe a devil can learn to have a heart,” Vergil told closing the book. “Or maybe you are unique.”

“You think so?” Trish smiled. “Oh, you are just such a gentleman. I bet you stole that from one of your books.”

For a while they sat there, exchanging small talk, and watching boats float by. The sun slipped behind the rows of houses and the water growing dark. After a bit Trish seemed to be stare intently at herself in the water. This went on for so long, Vergil tapped her on the shoulder to break the trance. She jumped a little but smiled as she looked at him.

“Do I look exactly like her?” Trish asked. Her tone had lost all the bubbly sound.

“Yes.”

“Does that upset you?”

“No.”

“You know you don’t have to provide for me. I don’t do anything for you.”

Vergil stood up and leaned on the rail. “I don’t care about a lot of people or things. My place in the world has always been on the outside. You however are the closest thing I have to family. So don’t worry about my money or time.”

 “Family huh...?”

The awkward silence emerged again. Trish seemed to be staring at Vergil, so he turned away and sighed.

 “I also have business to attend to here. I can escort you back to the hotel.”

“You are so protective,” she said looking annoyed. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“That is true.” Vergil agreed. He turned from here and began walking away from her, adding “Arrivederci.”

Wandering down the old roads Vergil pushed past random people. The city would be a great hiding place for a demon, ready to strike from an alleyway or bridge. But nothing attested him besides the traffic.

It was at a small tavern, he stopped. It was completely unremarkable and plain, maybe even a little seedy. Opening the door there was singing and cat calls, a loud buzz of human chatter.

“Hey there white top, how can I help you?” A flamboyant bartender called. In a smooth motion he passed out drinks and twisted to catch a tray that almost fell from the table.

“You don’t,” Vergil grumbled.

The bartender flashed a pointed smile and said, “Oh such pride,” before he returned to serving his patrons.

It was in the back, where people were engaged in a game of poker that Vergil came to loom over. Around the table was men in fancy pinstriped suits and one woman dressed in a red jacket. On it back was emblazed the words ‘Devil’s Never Cry’. Through her sunglasses and under her bob cut hair, the two mismatched eyes glared at Vergil.

“Find another game,” one growled at him.

“Yeah, go fuck off.”

“Hey boys, I think it’s time I cash out,” The woman said dropping her cards. There was countless curses and shouts as she grabbed up the money on the table.

Standing up, Lady walked away from Vergil. There was an air of hostility and Vergil’s eyes wandering to the handgun on her belt. It wasn’t a small weapon for a delicate lady, but something that packed more than enough to blow someone’s head off.

“You have done well for yourself,” Vergil said quietly. They sat at the bar together and he watched her order a drink. “I think it’s time we talk.”

“And what’s there to talk about? You’re a half demon asshole and I should be putting a bullet in your head.”

“We both know that wouldn’t work.”

“That’s why I haven’t done it yet.”

Vergil reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. Placing it on the bar, he slid it towards her.

“This is my contact information. You’ve been doing a lot of good work. Demon kind is well aware of ‘The woman with two colored eyes’.” Vergil’s voice was a little weak, but his face was unreadable.

“I took up your brother’s work,” Lady said taking a shot glass from the bartender and locking eyes with him. She seemed to ignore the paper. ”It's hard to find work in my business, but thankfully I have a sponsor.”

“On the subject of Dante, I have a request.”

“Trying to finish your quest for fratricide? Forget it.” Lady sighed loudly, eyes watching the bartender.

“I want to set things right,” Vergil told elbows on the bar, face hidden. ”Since he was a kid, he’s had a knack for getting in trouble.”

Lady threw a stack of bills on the counter and solemnly asked “You sure he is still alive?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have one question.” Lady paused and grabbed up the paper. As she slid it into her pocket she grabbed her handgun with her freehand. “My sponsor Mr. Blake gave me the tip to come here. That you?”

Vergil nodded curtly. Lady sighed in response and aimed the large gun over the counter. There was a surprised gasp from the other customers, then panicked screams as the gun fired.

The bartender fell back and crashed into the various bottles. His face had been nearly blown completely off before it began to twist into a new shape. His clothes became red skin and white feathers burst out of his collar. His long arms reached out for her, stretching ape like with clawed anger. His head reformed into a clown like skull but inside it the bullet exploded, sending chunks everywhere.

“See you around,” Lady added dully and head for the door.

Vergil rubbed his forehead in annoyance as the tavern erupted into further panic. He chose to slip out the back and leave the scene before authorities could ask questions.

Back at the hotel, Vergil knocked at Trish’s room. No answer, but sometimes she was out late. Tiredly he went to his own room and got changed. He’d planned on getting some reading in tonight, but even as he sat down on the bed, he noticed a letter next to a blue rose waiting.

Going solo for awhile, going to find myself. Don’t wait on me, I’ll find you.  -Trish

Under the letter was an old book titled ‘Don Juan’. It looked like it’d been bought at an antique store, old and leather bound.

Vergil laid his head back and closed his eyes, gently pulling a cord around his neck. At its end was a long silver spike, reflecting a blackened mirror of the room.

This piece of the Rebellion was found embedded in a demon a few weeks ago, now it was his only clue Dante was still alive. This was now his mission, to find his brother.

Chapter Text

Devil May Cry 2

Seven years since the fall of Mundus, the world had been quiet. Rarely a demon would sneak through the realms, but the humans were relatively safe from the forces of the Underworld.

Vergil stood atop the clock tower of Dumary, looking out over the ocean. The sunrise painted the ancient city red and reflected warmly against the ocean. From here, you could see its history written in the battlements and towers. Carved into the rocks, it had been a constant battlefield for generations against the demons. The entire island of Vie de Marli had been a history of blood and pain, only having known peace since Mundus’s fall at the hands of Sparda.

In his youth, Vergil had traveled seeking out his father’s history and this was one of the many stops. The clan known as the Guardians of Marli had been led by Sparda in the time of darkness, serving as his knights and teaching them in the ways of magic. In his stead, they protected mankind as their numbers dwindled.

It was much to Vergil’s surprise when a letter made its way to him. It was old parchment paper and sealed with the Marli crest.

Vergil Son of Sparda, the Guardians of Marli seek your aid in these dark times.

Only myself and my daughter are left to defend against the ancient enemy. The youth face corruption, the old die out and Argosax the original king of Hell seeks to resurrection.

In your possession is a coin, a relic of your father. This is an item of great importance and the fate of mankind may reside in its protection.

I dare not share more in this letter, but I know your father’s valiant blood flows in your veins and will lead you to us. Please do not forsake old allies.

Matier de Marli

Between his finger, the coin turned. A male and female angel joined at the shoulder, both reaching out was engraved upon it. With a quick motion, he slipped it in his coat.

Leaping off the tower, Vergil twisted midair. For a moment he saw sky and ocean, a peach, red and purple spiral of colors. Descending countless stories, his boots met the ground. The bricks cracked, dust flying up around him.

There was only the wind to great him. Vergil straightened and listened, the old building deathly still. Not a peek from a window, no whispers or hustling away. Years ago, there had been crowds and markets here. The youth had flocked to the great modern city to the east, but only the rich could afford such privilege. Now as Vergil walked down a narrow alley, he saw no sign of human life.

Not thrilled at the prospect of searching every building for this Matier, Vergil turned and caught sight of large knife stabbed into a door. Around it’s handle was a blue ribbon that blew in the wind consciously. Vergil stepped up, pulling the weapon out and pushing open the door.

Peering inside, the building was empty. No signs of people, no furniture, nothing. Vergil passed through the back. No blood, no bodies, no sign of a struggle.

Outside the back was a large metal gate. Around one of the iron spikes, there was another blue ribbon. Running his hand down it, Vergil opened the gate and heard the faintest footstep. Timed with the wail of the rusted metal, he was met with dead silence after.

The faintest smile touched his lips, he leapt up onto the wall above and began walking along the ocean. Ahead another ribbon blew against the sunset on a light post. Someone was not only following him but guiding Vergil somewhere. Unphased, he followed the path. No more ribbons in view for now, but he could see large dark hanging shapes ahead.

Soon he could see them as cages hanging heavy from posts. It was a gibbet, human shaped and spiked. In the past, no public torture or executions had marred the city, so this was clearly what he was being led too. The first one he approached creaked evilly. It held the long dead remains that had been reduced to bones. It seemed like this belonged to a more mid-evil time, but the foul air told that this wasn't of this world.

The bones inside looked human, the eyeless skull gazing towards Vergil deadly. He was about to keep moving when with a snap, it moved. The metal fell to the ground with a crash, and it slowly stood back up. The cage was made jointed, blades in place of hands. This was both a device to induce human pain and a weapon for a demon to possess.

Vergil didn't move, even as the metal clattered towards him. It roared from its nonexistent lungs and raised its blades high. The leg bones shattered as the metal joins forced them to move, the loud stomp of its feel rhythmically beating.

With minimal movement, Vergil’s hand raised. Taking the spectral handle as it formed, he stabbed the thin blade past the cage and into the open mouth of the skull. For a moment the demon paused before it tried to look down. With a snap the blade exploded. The Agonofinis fell back, bone and metal pieces clattered to the ground.

Now the sound of more metal was coming from all around him. Caged skeletons were crawling up the wall, digging blade in stone. It was a rusted army of skeleton surrounding him on both sides. Each clattered, skulls opening their jaws with metal hinges. Vergil loosed his collar and rows of summoned swords creating a barrier around him.

“The first attack at once prov'd the divinity. But that I never doubted, nor the Devil”

With one thrust Vergil drew a new sword and stabbed. In an instant, seven blades followed. Each missed the metal and locked the joints in place. Pirouetting, a glowing arch of mirroring blades tore through the enemies.

The blade in hand seemed to become more solid and dense as it tore through metal. The lesser blades surrounding Vergil slicing and broke at the opponents. This main weapon in hand had taken the shape of the Rebellion, while the others remained more abstract.

Dropping to his knee Vergil plunged the blade into the stone beneath him. Underneath stone shattered as elongated blades fired into the air, impaling the skeletons, and dragged them upward.

With a sheathing motion, the mirage blade vanished, and its copies exploded. The creatures fell from the wall, metal shredded. Vergil began to smooth one of his bangs when an iron ball came flying past his head, smashing into stone.

The chain fell limp and retracted with a snap; the metal spheres clanged hard against the stumps of thick iron arms. A giant two headed cage demon stomped forward blocking the path. There was hardly any room for the demon on the wall, its legs spread from edge to edge.

This cage was full of meat, not resembling a human other than its number of limbs. Inhumanly its two metal heads looked at Vergil with no eyes. It was bloated, dripping and in place of hands was the two large iron balls. Plutonian in its great bulk bent back and flung the great iron spheres forward once again.

Vergil barely moved, only turning to let the iron balls and chains flying past him. They shattered against metal remains and left craters. It made groans as the chains retracted back into its flesh. With all its weight it prepared another attack, metal feet leaving smears on the stone. One orb flew into the open air and the other crashed into a nearby building. The creature stood moaning with its arms spread wide before swinging. Vergil flipped over as the balls crashed into each other, he was momentarily pushed back by a shock wave from the impact.

The chains crashed into each other, the metal crashing down. Vergil swinging his arm out midair summoned the phantom Rebellion and threw it spinning at insane speed.

Putonian stood up to its full height, almost as if trying to express confusion. The spectral sword crashed into the stone behind it, glowing violently. The demon twisted its necks to look at Vergil landing atop a building, only for the second of the heads to come sliding off.

"Ahh now I made you asymmetrical. Let me fix that," Vergil smirked. The sword appeared in his hand again, with a flash of light.

It screeched and swung a massive arm, only for twenty glowing daggers to pelt the demon. The creature cried out not even seeing the spinning rocket fly into its chest. Flesh and metal flew everywhere in the explosion. Putonian slumped over blood oozing everywhere.

“Stop there!” came an unknown woman’s voice as Vergil raised his weapon.

Turning he saw the figure who had been following him. She was dark skinned and had flaming red hair tied in a braid. In an instant Vergil could feel an aura of something not quite human from her, noticing how her green eyes flared. She had a white cape draped over one arm, striped top and pants that restricted nothing.

“So, this is the son of Sparda?” she asked in a lightly accented voice.

“That’s him,” replied a more familiar voice.

Loading her giant white rocket launcher onto her back, Lady walked towards them. She was dressed as he'd last seen her, white leather jacket and strapped with weapons from head to foot.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Vergil told Lady as the demon he’d been fighting melted to dust. He then turned to the red headed woman. “Is this how the Guardians welcome an ally? Hiding and leaving clues for me?”

“We can’t trust anyone these days,” the red head told sheathing a dagger on her belt. “The enemy takes many forms.”

“She’s a little stiff,” Lady added breaking the silence that had fallen between stares. “And you are late to the party.”

“Fashionably late,” Vergil told shrugging.

“You show up when you are most needed. Like your father,” croaked yet another voice.

Vergil turned to face the new person with annoyance. It was an old woman, small and wrinkled. She wore a great deal of bracelets, rings and necklaces. Around her head was a knitted cap and she leaned heavy on a staff that featured the bird of Hermes.

“That is no way to treat a guest Lucia,” the old woman said with a smile. “Especially the son of an old friend.”

“I take it your Matier?” Vergil asked with a curt nod.

“Yes of course. And oh how you look like your father!”

“I expected… More black and knightly,” Lucia added darkly.

“You knew my father?” Vergil asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes. I was a young girl when he saved my life. He taught my clan how to survive and fight throughout the years.” Matier told looking out on the ocean and leaning heavy on the staff.

“It’s nice you two having a moment, but it’s dangerous to be here,” Lady told snarky. “Let’s go somewhere private.”

“Have some patience for an old woman,” Matier said walking past them. “Follow me and we’ll talk.”

Vergil mumbled a non-answer.

“Unfortunately, our numbers have grown so small in these times. Me and Lucia are the last two of our clan. I wasn’t sure we’d reach you, so I sent for help from the few allies we have and to the more renown demon hunters. Troubling times… troubling times. Rumors that the son of Sparda still lives are hard to follow up and my sources are as old as me.” Matier laughed a choked laugh.

Her voice was full of accent and warmth, making it hard for Vergil to stay annoyed. The pace they walked was so slow, he had to change his stride to not overtake her.

“I have enemies,” Vergil said keeping his senses ready for another attack. “I cannot make it too easy to find me.”

“I imagine you do.”

“His personality doesn’t help,” Lady mumbled behind them.

The terraces and stairs led to the edge of the city. There a large three-story building stood with a church like spire. Next to it yet another blue ribbon had been tied to a fence post, the end to the trail meant for Vergil.

“Watch your head,” Matier laughed as she slipped through the small door. Lucia and Lady stepped through no problem behind her.

Vergil paused and bent down to avoid the doorway. Everything was very old here, oil lamps, paintings and no modern conveniences. There were more signs of life than the abandoned city, but everything still smelled dusty and old. Swords hung behind shields, a banner with the same design as the staff the old woman leaned on hung predominately.

“Would you like some tea?” Matier asked motioning to a small iron stove.

“No, I’ll pass.”

“Straight to business. Let’s go meet with the others,” Matier said motioning to a small trap door in the floor. Lucia quickly stepped over and opened it to reveal a stair leading down.

“How many others?” Vergil asked unenthused. He paused at the top of the stair, watching Lucia light a candle.

“We are only eight counting us,” The old woman told as she moved down the stair very slow. Her staff clicking on each step, as Lucia followed protectively with the candle.

“Don’t be so antisocial,” Lady added springing down the stairs and disappearing into the darkness. “They are willing to pay a premium for our help.”

Vergil followed reluctantly. He wasn’t afraid of a trap or of an attack, he just didn’t like meeting new people. His life was one of secrecy, aliases and solitude. The stairs went further and further underground, descending at the rate that Matier’s legs could carry her.

At the bottom was a circular stone room. Statues of women and men holding swords lined the wall, along with weapons both ancient and modern. A round table sat in the middle with four people. Behind them, a giant tapestry depicted the same wall they had walked earlier, but with knights and soldiers fighting demons who were trying to scale it. In the center of the frame, holding the Yamato in hand, a white haired Sparda slashed down a devil.

The first three at the table were dressed in white. Vergil’s eyes narrowed recognizing the sigil of The Order of the Sword. Two were dressed in surcoats with hoods, swords on their back and between them was clearly a commander. He looked late twenties, but already had developed a widow’s peak on a mane of chestnut hair that was slicked back. His brown eyes were piercing and his clean-shaven jaw tense.

The man stood up and bypassed the women to hold his hand out to Vergil.

“It is an honor to meet you sir. My name is Credo, Captain of the Holy Knights of Fortuna.”

As Vergil took his hand he could see the admiration in the young man’s eyes, but the rest of his face betrayed little.

“Vergil.”

“The son of Sparda,” Credo added with the faintest smile. “Your holy father, savior of mankind is prayed to daily in Fortuna. If you would consider coming back…”

“Religion isn’t my thing,” Vergil told bluntly. He could see the shock in Credo’s eyes. “My father… I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be worshiped.”

“Don’t break the boy’s heart too bad,” Lady said slamming down her large rocket launcher on the table.

As Vergil looked to her, he noticed the last person sitting there. He had red a frowhawk with a lightning bolt shaven into it. Long leather boots, jeans and jacket made him a dark figure, but those blue eyes froze Vergil instantly.

“Name’s Leon,” he told with a mocking smile. “Top ranked devil hunter.”

Lady raised her hand with only a single finger raised. Vergil gave the faintest laugh and sat down between Lady and Leon, fixing his hair.

“Good good, now that introductions out of the way,” Matier took her seat at the head of the table and the trapdoor slammed down from the stair. “It is time to explain why I called you here in detail."

“It started with the island being divided between the old city of Dumary and the modern city of Marli. A company named Uroboros began the mechanization of the island, creating jobs and in secret tapping into demonic power.”

“Couldn’t tell they were evil with a name like that,” Lady cut in.

“Quiet, let her talk,” Lucia scolded in response.

“Arius the head of Uroboros spends his days playing with sorcery and demons. My son had been monitoring him for years and died in his infiltration of the company,” Matier’s paused just a moment, a little pain passing. “He discovered something much worse. Arius had been contacted by a devil named Argosax.”

“The original ruler of the Underworld,” Credo said putting his hands together and crossing his fingers. “The king before Mundus.”

“Just so. Long ago, Sparda and Mundus fought to overthrow Argosax. Retreating into the fire hell, he only returned when Mundus had fallen and Sparda had taken up arms for the humans. In those bloody battles the Guardians and the Order fought side by side as Sparda sealed away Argosax with the ancient Arcana. He then entrusted them to humans, a staff, a coin, a dagger and a chalice. I hold the Arcana Bastone, the staff as the leader of the Guardians of Marli.”

Everyone stopped to look at the bird staff resting against the table. Vergil removed the coin from his coat and ran it between his fingers.

“I have this Arcana,” he told.

“That leaves the dagger and the chalice,” Credo said nodding.

“Yes indeed,” Matier said smiling. “Arius lives at the top of the Uroboros headquarters, a skyscraper in Marli that is heavily guarded. He has opened a semi portal to hell and is trying to gather the Arcana to resurrect Argosax.”

“Then our first move should be to secure the Arcana,” Credo half yelled standing up. “Do you know where the other two are?”

“The clock tower of the hunter has the dagger, and the chalice is deep in an underground ruin of the ancient people,” Matier told. “Soon Arius will break the seals upon them, and he will come for us.”

“Then there is no time to waste, me and my men will go to the ruins. The rest of you go to the clock tower,” Credo said taking his sword and hooking it to his belt. “The Order will not abandon the Guardians or humanity in it’s time of need.”

“Then how about me and Lucia take the clock tower?” Leon said lazily.

“I can handle it myself,” Lucia shot back annoyed. Leon winked at her in response.

“That leaves me and Lady,” Vergil said crossing his legs. “We shall deal with Arius himself.”

“There is one more thing,” Matier said looking to Vergil with concern. “Arius has capture countless people and is using their souls to power his magic. I would ask that you save them first. As long as we secure the Arcana, he cannot resurrect Argosax.”

“If I kill him, they we can free them easier,” Vergil responded dully, but winced as Lady nudged him.

“Every second we waste, more people die. I implore you to help them Son of Sparda.” The old woman’s face was full of concern and worry. Vergil could see humanity in those eyes.

“I will do as you ask.”

“Good good,” Matier slid off the chair and picked up her staff. “Now we must rest and prepare for tomorrow. I shall share some stories of your father before dinner.”

Chapter Text

Memories of Matier 1

There was smoke, for the first of two times in my life, my home was on fire. I was six and it is still one of the clearest memories of my childhood.

I was under the bed, listening to the flames. If I thought I were somehow safe or I was frozen in fear, I do not remember.

What I do remember, is the flaming skull of a dog entering the room. The hellhound sniffed and growled smelling me out. When its fiery eyes and smoke-filled nostrils came upon me, I let out a scream that I couldn’t hear.

With a flashing long arc across its neck, the hound slumped over. Its fire died and a pair of black boots kicked the beast away.

“Come child,” his voice called, and a white hand was outstretched to me.

The man was dressed in black; his long silver hair fell like waves on his shoulders. He picked me up with no effort and took me outside, only to be surrounded by a pack of those beast.

Still on his shoulder, he drew his sword. It was the Yamato, but its handle and sheath were a simple wooden design covered in leather back then. The first hound charged for us, and he leap aside. The jump and attack were one practiced motion, landing so smooth it was as if he had glided. Its skull split and the others howled backing off, only for their own bodies to come apart in various unseen cuts. Somehow, he’d slain them all.

I felt safe, it radiated from him. But I myself went cold seeing the hellscape around me. There were burnt bodies, and everything smelled of sulfur. He was my only comfort in that horror. He brought me to the edge of town and my mother tried to take me from his arms, only for me to cling for dear life.

“Let go child, go to your mother,” he said softly.

“Poor thing,” My mother cooed.

Soon we were surrounded by others. Men carrying weapons, bloody and wounded. They all looked to my rescuer with wonder.

“Sparda!”

“The legends are true!”

“Sir Dark Knight!”

 Everyone knew this man who had come to save us was the name spoke in legend. The demon who turned on his own kindred. But to me, he couldn’t have seemed like anything less than an angel.

He picked up a purple cloak embroidered in white ivory. Wrapping himself in it, we were all bathed in a fiery glow. One of the buildings exploded and the ground shook.

“SPARDA!!!” and “KINSLAYER!!” cried out two deep voices.

From the flames of the village a two headed hell-beast leapt out. It’s clawed feet dug into the ground and everyone stood frozen in horror. From its two mouths green and yellow fire bellowed. Its body was plated like lava rock and its eyes glowed with hate.

“WE COME TO CRUSH YOU!!” it snarled with an insane fury. “Vengeance from the Fire-Hell!”

“Thou will need more than just two heads to defeat me.” Sparda said sheathing the Yamato and a smile crossing his lips.

“We twins are strong! The power of two demons in one!!”

The creature opened its mouths and the flames spewed forth. A green and yellow typhoon of fire that would engulf all the survivors. My mother cried out, trying to cover me.

With a flick, the Yamato came out. The fire split into green and yellow, directed away from us. The cut seemed to travel up and to the Cerberus's horror, its body was split in two.

The two heads looked at each other separated for the first time and then dissolved into light. In their place to elegantly decorated spears stood, reflecting the fire around them.

“Come the night is yet to be won,” Sparda told and motioned to the new weapons. “The strongest of you take those, we will need them.”

The Clocktower

On the edge of old Dumary was the clock tower. It had been forbidden to enter the building for a long as anyone could remember. Deep down Lucia felt offended that Matier had not trusted her to come retrieve the Arcana sooner.

“Your grandmother seems nice,” Leon called from behind.

“Mother,” she shot back.

Lucia was purposely walking fast to keep away from the stranger. She didn’t need his help for this mission, they didn’t need outsiders. At least the members of the Order of the Sword were better than a hunter.

“She’s sure paying a lot to hire Lady and myself. Your clan do this for a living?”

“It’s not a ‘living’, my clan has been protecting humanity longer than your people have records,” she snapped looking upward at the old clock face and refusing to look anywhere near him.

The old clock tower was stone, barred windows and metal fencing. The building had been boarded up and covered in magic seals to ward away intruders. It dwarfed the abandoned house and buildings around it, lonely in its height.

“People need protecting, if not from demons, then themselves.” There was something too relaxed about Leon and this annoyed Lucia more.

“And what? You think it’s right for you to protect those who can fill your pockets? How does one advertise being a hunter when the people do not even know what is out there?!”

“First I bounty hunted the ones who couldn’t be caught. Didn’t take long to find some of the murderers and scum weren’t human. I have expensive taste, so I need cash.”

“I've been a hunter as long as I could hold a sword!” Lucia shouted turning to glare at him. “I will give everything to live up to their legacy of my people!”

“I can respect that,” Leon told her with the faintest nod. “But I have expensive taste.”

“You should turn back,” Lucia told calming down and glaring at the equally redheaded stranger. “This place was sealed by my people, and I’ll handle this mission myself.”

“So confident.” Leon put his hand on a ‘no trespassing’ sign. “I’ll try not to get in your way.”

With a slight ‘Hmp’ Lucia stepped up and pushed the doors at the doors. It was covered in tassels, the symbols of various ancient writing languages written on it. Runes glowing, the doors didn’t want to budge. She had assumed the barrier was to keep demons out, but it also refused her entrance. She could almost feel the smirk behind her.

Not interested in wasting time, Lucia leapt up and kicked the door breaking the locks and shattering wood. There was the roar of some magical force giving way, and without looking at her companion she entered.

The entrance hall was a round room with gray stone walls, black marble floor with a depiction of the sun and large statues of goat-men. These demons had often been contacted by those seeking demonic power and corrupted them from within. It disturbed Lucia to see them depicted here.

Between these statues a large alter stood with a glowing barrier around it. This was far more advanced than the simple wards outside.

“Already found it?” Leon laughed. He ran his hand down the muscled chest of the goat, looking amused.

“No… I’m not sure what this is.” Lucia felt the magic glowing and calling. Whatever was inside there was speaking to her on some instinctual level.

“Based on these statues, looks like the ‘Protectors’ might have a history contacting demons themselves,” Leon mused. “Sometimes you gotta join emm to beat emm.”

“Shut up, our magic is drawn from spirits and nature. The clan has fought for generations for you people.” Lucia flashed in anger, hand pressing against the warm barrier. She could feel the stone, the strange pulsing object within.

““What happened to make you such a fanatic?” Leon paced the room looking inquisitive. “Everyone has a backstory.”

“Matier took me in when I was a child,” Lucia told feeling the room come alive with magic. She knew something was changing. “Now we are the last Protectors and I will not let Dumary fall to these devils.”

“Prove yourself worthy,” it called within her mind. It echoed in the room and up into the tower.

Leon not hearing leaned on the goat statue. With a crunch, it began to move. Stone and dust fell from it and as its wings spread the demon let out a howl.

“WATCH OUT!” Lucia cried filling the demon with daggers and finding it’s left eye.

Leon rolled and withdrew two large pistols. One was black and the other white, both aimed at Lucia who tensed as the bullets fired. Hearing a splat and exploding flesh, Lucia turned with both her curved blades to carve the goat-man into four pieces.

As Leon unloaded into the semi blind goat, Lucia felt the pull from the barrier. A glowing object flew out and she caught it. Instantly there was a feeling of power flowing up her arm.

Feathers fell around her, her arms dark and claw like. Lucia had taken on a new form, one not unlike a harpy. A mane of white feathers masked her face but for two glowing blue eyes. She was both terrified and excited, a feeling of bliss tingled throughout her body.

“What magic is this?” Lucia asked out loud, trying to sound a rejection in this. She felt the large, beautiful wings itch to be spread. All this radiated from her hand and a green present moon shaped gem.

She looked to Leon, who was studying her appearance. Lucia couldn’t tell what he was thinking, he just seemed to study her with his eyes. Then with a jolt, she transformed back to her human form.

“This is… evil… I…” Lucia raised the stone in the air to throw it, but Leon rushed in front of her holding his hands up.

“Whoa whoa whoa!!! Slow down babe, I’m sure your clan left this here for a reason!!” Leon’s voice had a tone of panic, but his eyes had no trace of it.

He motioned upward and Lucia could see gears, beams and metal pistons moving above. The clock tower had become active with the removal of the stone.

“We are here for the Arcana right? I think you need that to progress.”

Looking into the glowing gem, Lucia considered it. There was no way up into the tower, the gem had come to her and been placed by here. It all felt fated. But what she could separate was if that was what the gem wanted or herself.

“I’ll look for another way in,” Leon sighed. “Maybe I can get bars off a window. See you babe.”

“Don’t call me babe!” Lucia called after him, anger rising.

Now alone, Lucia braced herself. The stone began warming, as did her body. Leaping up and spreading her wings, the demonic power felt amazing.

Past gears and pistons she shot upward. The tower had many moving platforms and was glowing with an unknown energy. A large stone carved with runes pumped up and down upon a round orb that glowed intensely. From the ceiling riveted metal rods came down and steam hissed.

Lucia floated there staring at the power source as it sparked. She thought to touch it when she heard a strange cry. Spinning midair, she saw what looked like a vulture, but with long furry feet and human breast. Its long neck ended in a flesh maw of teeth that was clicking and crying.

The Puia was joined by three others, each fluttering around Lucia snapping its jaws. One drew near and with an unknown anger, Lucia extended her wing and the razor-sharp feathers dug into the demon. It croaked out in pain as the others swarmed, each wailing and moaning.

Reaching for her swords, Lucia found glass like blades take shape in her hands. With one stroke the first Puia was decapitated and with the next, she carved the second in half. More wails came as the windows began to shake, it sounded like hundreds of the demons were outside.

Knowing she needed to be quick, Lucia shot up and slipped between gears. She felt the hiss of steam, but while she could feel the heat, there was no pain. Strange monkey like creatures hung upside down on metal beams, clawing for her. Some she grabbed and crushed in her claws; others fell to their death from the force of her wings. Lucia felt unstoppable, like the strength coursing through her would take her to the stars.

At full speed she crashed through floorboards and floated down to see the backside of the clockface. Gears turned, the hour, minute and second hand strangely all falling slack as the gears came to a halt. There were two doors that led outside, but with a clicking they were sealed off by bars. On the opposing side of the clock a large metal door began to clank open. Inside was a writhing mass of tentacles and slime.

Disgusted, Lucia stepped back avoiding a whipping appendage. At its center a shell pushed itself into the room and revealed a snake like body emerging from the top. There was a face and torso that resembled a human, but it was set in a cobra like hood. The face was a mess of small sharp teeth, set in an overly large mouth and two black eyes.

“FREE!!”

Water began spilling out from the shell and Lucia could see a purple vapor spewing from the back of the demon. She had a bad feeling it was poison and in this restricted area, she would be overwhelmed fast. Spreading her wings and eyes glowing, Lucia flicked, and a flurry of sharp feathers embedded themselves into the demon.

“YOU!! Why does a lowly demon challenge Jokatgulm?” it hissed.

“Demon?” Lucia called returning to its human shape. “I am a human! A Guardian of Marli!!!”

Drawing two glass objects from her pouch, Lucia threw them at the monster. The tentacles raised to protect itself, but soon found the holy water exploding and melting its flesh. Using the shock, Lucia flipped onto the shell and drove her swords into the base of the snake body. It unable to retreat, she drew daggers and began stabbing as many of them as she could, climbing up onto the Jokatglum.

“LOWLY HUMAN!” It cried and snapped at her.

Lucia jabbed another knife deep and landed a boot against it’s face. A few teeth flew into the air and yet more stuck into her boot. Letting out the faintest gasp as it bit her, Lucia leapt off.

Rolling to safety, Lucia felt her nerves light on fire. She’d breathed in just a little of the poison it was spewing out. She was lucky it had not paralyzed her or had some other property, but the pain was blinding. The crescent stone called to her, to transform again but she felt so tired.

“Foolish girl, I shall enjoy feeding upon your flesh!” the demon mocked drawing nearer.

The tentacles were coming from all sides, Lucia stabbed at one with a dagger, only to find another slam her into the wall. The four appendages raised up, the snake woman hissed in pleasure, knowing it had her trapped.

With a crack a long sword cut all four tentacles off. Electricity flew around the room and Leon was next to Lucia. In his hand the dragon like hilt glowed with power, his body sparking with an unknown power.

“That’s… magic? Are you using a Devil-Arm?” Lucia asked struggling up. “That’s not something a normal human should mess with!”

Leon smiled a wicked smile and stepped back. They formed up, back-to-back and held weapons at the ready.

“I really don’t think you are in a place to criticize,” Leon told swinging and making a slimy mass retreat. “Now if I give you an opening, you will kill this thing… right?”

“Of course!” Lucia yelled as she caught a tentacle between two daggers, the blades meeting within the flesh.

“Alright, get ready fly-girl!”

Leon shot forward like a stinger, kicking off and twisting to avoid two wet arms attempting to pen him. He stabbed the sword into the base of the snake woman and lightning fired off in all directions. Lucia not wasting time shot into the air, assuming her bird form and drew the demon blades from nothing. She smashed into the snake woman with full force and drove the swords into her abdomen.

“DAMNED FALSE DEMON!!” Jokatglum cried before with a flash of light, it was carved into two. Its eyes parted, blood spraying everywhere.

“Good shot!” Leon yelled pumping a fist. Around them, the monster began to dissolve into mush and the room began to glow. “I take it that thing was sealed here to protect the Arcana?”

“I don’t know,” Lucia admitted resuming human form, a few feathers floated around her. She looked at the crescent stone in hand and dropped it on the ground.

“Hey, I don’t know if that’s…” Leon started, but Lucia crushed it under her boot.

“Do what you wish, but I won’t let this thing corrupt me.”

With a mechanical clicking an altar raised from the ground. On a red cloth, lay an ornate dagger. Lucia picked it up and took a deep breath.

“That’s what we came for?” Leon asked dully. “I expected something more… dramatic.”

“Sparda left this to my forebears, now I shall protect it with my life. Let’s get some fresh air.”

Lucia stepped out onto the balcony of the clock tower. She could see all Old Dumary from here and as well as the ocean. It seemed so peaceful and still, maybe hinting at the lack of life down there.  Her red hair blew in the ocean breeze, a strange warning burning in her. That power from the moon stone, it hadn’t really faded with its destruction. Lucia felt both dirtied and invigorated.

“You did good in there,” Leon told her. “Ever seen something that big before?”

“No, never. I’ve hunted many demons, but that was different.” Lucia knew without help she’d have not been able to defeat that creature. The anxiety faded to mild annoyance. “Thank you for the help.”

“Hey no sweat babe.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

The Ruins of Dumary

“That man… was he really a Son of Sparda?” Wilhelm asked. His white hood covered most of his face and he held a long broadsword in hand.

“Yes, it appears so,” Credo said distracted. He was standing at the gate of the ruin, focused on the runes and trying to find a way to open it. With a wave of his right hand, it gave a metallic wail and opened.

“Then might he be in possession of the Yamato?” David, the other of Credo’s companions asked. “We have to bring him back to Fortuna.”

“I did not see it, there will be time for us to get more information later. Right now, we focus on the mission,” Credo told them sharply. “I am the Shield of Mankind; your captain and you will follow orders!”

“Yes sir,” they both said together.

They descended into the cavern, pillars holding up old stone. Credo himself could sense the demonic activity buzzing in the air. Uroboros was already here and would soon make a move.

“Sir, somet…” David said, but began screaming. A hooded figure behind them raised a staff and the tunnel was filled with fire.

Unable to save David from inferno, Credo lifted a large glowing shield and held the flames back. It had been forged to resemble an angel’s wing and stood strong as the fire slammed into it.

“Pyromancy!” Wilhelm said and revved his sword.

“Indeed!!” The demon laughed and vanished. Credo and Wilhelm were left alone with David growing still as his flesh smoked.

“Stay with me!” Credo ordered. “Remember! We shall never surrender!!”

Chapter Text

Memories of Matier 2

I stood in the training yard, practicing my strikes. I mirrored my teachers moves, each aimed for vitals on the manikin. I couldn’t have been older than thirteen, but my training had made me lethal.

The problem was with my body. My lungs began to burn, and in an instant, I fell, gasping for air. My asthma had left me unable to practice for long periods. Even as she shouted at first to get back up, then to rest, all I could do is gasp for air.

Sitting down and feeling my cheeks flush, I could see one of my brothers practicing with a staff. His precise feet work moved with ease across raised wooden poles. He was younger than me and I burned with jealousy.

“Your brother?” a soft voice asked. I turned seeing Sparda loom over me.

Sparda had stayed with us after the demon attack. He handpicked those of talent and taught them swordsmanship. It was different from how we fought, our style fast and deadly, his fighting a wall of attacks to crush enemies.

He sat down next to me, setting the Yamato against the wall. His eyes were piercing with some unknown light, so un-devil like. It took everything I had to speak, not just because my lungs, but also faced with my hero.

“I heard he’s going to train with you,” finally came out.

“Yes.”

“If I wasn’t so weak, if I could just breathe! I am his older sister! I… I…” but I was too breathless to express my frustration.

“Don’t worry child, we all have our talents,” he told me, but this hurt deeper than he knew.

“I want to be a hunter like him!! I was always the big sister, watching out for him… now I…” I wheezed. “What do you know of siblings!”

I must admit, it surprised me that my anger could even extend to him, to Sparda. I had so admired him as I grew, he himself never changing. Perhaps it was jealousy.

“I had a brother, a twin,” Sparda admitted. “It runs in my line, my father and grandfathers having a twin as well. He had many abilities that were above mine. So fast, burning with a fire.”

 Trying to picture someone as beautiful as Sparda was hard. It hardly crossed my mind that the twins wouldn’t have appeared human.

“Did you lose him?” I asked.

“One day I’ll tell you about him. Yojimbo is still with me… in my heart.” Sparda leaned back next to his sheathed sword. “You won’t become a hunter the way they are training you. Nor will you if I train you like your brother.”

I cast my eyes down, shame filling me and tearing up. Sparda however put his hands on my thin shoulder.

“But maybe I can teach you another way. Learn to control magic, use runes and bind the elements. You don’t have to be strong to protect those you care about.”

“Were you in love with him?” Vergil asked awkwardly. Only he and Matier were left at the table, a small cup of tea for them both.

“It was a teenage girl’s crush, Matier laughed. “Your father had quite smitten me back then.

Uruboros Power Refinery

The metal building rose out of the water on metal stilts. Platforms off branched and a strange green smoke climbed from the pipes.

Guards stood watch and at a distance might have passed for human, but if you got close, you could see their glowing eyes.

Slipping through unnoticed, Vergil and Lady leap down into a room full of metal crates. Inside the building seemed completely empty, no workers or technicians. There was large wires and pipes transferring glowing energy upward. Hisses and pumping sounds filling the room, a mechanical nightmare.

“This place is creepy,” Lady complained drawing a pistol. She looked tense as she moved towards the nearest doorway. “There appears to be a stair.”

Vergil walked forward without the need to take cover, unarmed and casual. He passed her, looking at the metal grating and the countless steps going downward. In its center and railed off, was a drop all the way to the bottom.

“I’d rather not waste our time,” he told her glancing down. But before she could reply he leap over the rail.

He heard Lady shout something but, the air was rushing past him in his ears. He gracefully bounced on the concrete at the bottom, hardly wasting a second before walking forward. The large basement had a roof of cement and metal beams high enough to fit a small house in. The metal walls were lined with lights and signs. Yellow and red batteries the size of a car lined the walls. While they were set in batches and looked like different models, they each glowed with an energy that gave Vergil an unnatural feel.

With a whip, Lady slid down beside him. Her large rocket launcher disconnected its wire and she looked greatly annoyed.

“What is it with you brothers leaping off high places?” she demanded. “Don’t you have any idea of stealth?”

“Nonsense, I just like to go in with style,” Vergil told and rolled up his sleeve.

“We have friends,” Lady warned aiming her pistol up.

The humanoids that were coming towards them wore long helmets that were just a little too thin for a human head to fit in. Instead of eye holes, there was a star and a crescent moon, revealing a glowing light within. They wore long dark ropes and were carrying staffs that ended in a large hand that was crackling with electricity.

“Trespassers?” One whispered.

“They have strong souls!” another cried.

“All the better to power our city!”

With a crack, a bullet bounced off the helmet of one. It dented in and the creature leaned back twitching. The others began laughing at the attack.

“Suck them dry!” One cried and a large orb of lightning lit up the room.

Vergil side stepped the orb, forming a weapon in hand. Lady however slid under it, pulling up a sawed-off shotgun and touching the barrel to the metal helm of the last speaker.

“Sorry, I don’t let just anyone do me favors,” Lady told, and the gun ripped through the helmet and sending shrapnel into others.

“Amusing,” Vergil commented batting a bolt of lightning away, before a spectral sword slammed through the heart of a Brontmancer.

Pointing his weapon at another, it raised its staff. The room filling with light and crackling. Vergil vanished in a blur, leaving the demon confused. It looked around, seeing Lady duck and fire another round into its brethren. Only to look up a second too late before being carved from head to toe.  

They began dismantling the group. Soon the ten that had attacked became five. Lady spun reloading the shotgun, leaping up and grabbing the creature with her legs. Twisting, its neck snapped, and she launched herself into the air. Vergil stabbed one creature, its robes twisting and covering him in an orb of darkness. The black sphere lasted only a second before countless glowing blades fired out of it, catching a couple others and leaving a shredded mage upon the ground.

Landing on one foot, Lady fired the shotgun. Taking most the chest and shoulder off a demon, she used the kick back to slide away from the group. Vergil lifted his sword in the air and slammed it down, a glowing mass of blades firing out from all sides and skewering both living and dead demons. They were all raised into the air and hung limply, before the illusionary blades shattered.

Some of the large batteries were pierced by the countless blades. Green energy exploded out, before reducing to a strange bluish gas. Inside some, a skeleton slumped out, blackened and breaking down into ash.

“Help me…” came a weak voice.

The sound seemed to echo in the concrete tomb. Vergil glanced ahead, looking for the source of the voice. Whoever called, was in a hallway branching off. Lady clicking the shotgun in a holster ran towards it, clearly the voice had been that of a small child.

As Vergil followed her, he saw a large cage full of children. Most were laying unaware of them and motionless. Some struggled to their feet to look at them, looking frightened.

“My god, we have to help them!” Lady said pulling out her oversized pistol and shooting off the lock. “It’s ok, we are here to save you.”

One child grasped onto Lady’s jacket, crying. She picked up another who was clearly emaciated. Vergil came closer but seemed to freeze outside the bars. His eyes avoided looking at them, pulling at his collar.

“You should take them to safety,” Vergil told raising his hand. With a burst of blue flames, the Yamato took shape. “I’ll handle this.”

“This is both our mission!” Lady argued. “Who knows how many more prisoners there are.”

“First them,” Vergil said firmly and drew the blade across the air. With a low buzz, a dimensional cut ripped space and revealed a spot a few miles from there. “Steal a vehicle or whatever.”

Lady looked from Vergil to the children and then closed her eyes to sigh. “I’ll be back.”

Carrying a few and speaking gently to others, Lady began moving the children through the portal. Vergil however walked away; fist clenched in a masked anger. In his minds eye, Vergil recalled a small child calling for help, one that the Yamato had answered.

With his weapon in hand, he stepped into a room full of mechanical parts. Here there were more cages and people floating in tanks. Those inside the cages cried to him for help, others moaned out in pain. There were some attached to wires and bolts, eyes clearly dead and bodies drying out.

This seemed to be the core of the facility. The place where human souls were converted to power and placed in the batteries. Drawing the old blade, Vergil spun swinging three times. With a crack, the locks were cut clean in two on the cages. It was a mad house as people, naked and afraid bolted out. Some carried their loved ones, others trampled strangers to flee. The machine cracked with an evil power as Vergil walked up to it and holding the Yamato with both hands.

“So, this is the intruder?” a voice echoed all around the room. A large screen turned on and a man with swept back hair, a predominate widows peak and van dyke styled facial hair looked down at Vergil. His skin was sickly yellow, and those sunken eyes spoke of corruption.

 “Arius, I take it?” Vergil asked staring into the screen. He could see a helicopter being prepared against a smoke-filled sky.

“Yes… and who are YOU?” Arius went up a few notes on the ‘you’.

“Vergil… Son of Sparda.”

“And Vergil Son of Sparda, what business is it of yours to destroy my work?” Arius demanded with a frown.

“I make it my business.”

With a downward swing, Vergil sliced the machine. Arius cried out, as the screen went black. From the outside there was a flash, the building losing a few pillars and a large crack spreading from underground. Greenish energy blasted like steam from different points in the facility. Red lights began flashing and machines began overheating. Everywhere electrical cracks began as the power source jolted with an infinitely stronger jolt and then faded away.

Arius himself on top of the building was cursing as his possessed soldiers loaded the helicopter. He screamed when a black and blue rift opened on the other side of the platform. The white-haired stranger named Vergil stepped out. Now face to face and not knowing how this man could be here from miles underground, Arius recoiled in fear.

“YOU! I SHALL CRUSH YOU BOY!!” He cried out shrilly.

“Foolishness, perhaps you should choose better last words?” Vergil mocked pointing the Yamato at him.

“Sparda’s seed…” came a hollow voice.

A creature came marching towards them, spiked and carrying a blue spear. Bolverk, the demonic skeleton warrior was a giant. Glowing with an inner light, the shape both resembled a human skeleton, but also armor. If it was truly, it’s bones or stone, it was impossible to tell.

“Good, I expect this handled immediately,” Arius said turning his nose and getting onto the helicopter.

Vergil raised the Yamato and Bolverk stepped between them, holding his spear ready. As the vehicle raised in the air, twenty floating swords shot forward. The helicopter spun, revealing a pulsing fleshy eye that sprayed energy out. Above him Blades shattered, Vergil leapt up, only to be met midair by Bolverk. Their weapons clashed and Vergil was sent flying back out of sheer force.

Landing on the platform and sliding back, Vergil noted two large flaming wolves circling him. They seemed to glow with the same light at the skeletal warrior.

“Your father was a peerless swordsman,” Bolverk told spinning his spear effortlessly. “I look forward to meeting the Yamato head on again.”

A phantom Vergil split off and flew past the warrior. Vergil himself sheathed the blade and lowered himself to the ground. Bolverk seemed to take the challenge and began spinning his sword into a blur.

Both moved at incredible speeds, the wheeling spear stopping as it met the Yamato. For a moment the air parted, and lightning cracked from the space bending. In that moment of distortion three Vergil figures struck three different blows. The three mirroring Bolverk reacted, one having its face split, one slamming Vergil to the ground with his spear and the last set trading blows with no winner. Reality settling Vergil landed, re-sheathing the blade before Bolverk crashed into the ground.

Above them, the shadow Vergil flew towards the helicopter, twisting to avoid the fiery wolves’ attack. He cleared the beast, only to be met with three faces tearing through reality. Each opened their mouths and the copy dissipated in a torrent of lightning, fire and ice.

“You are strong,” Bolverk said running his claw down a crack in his skull. “Worthy of those wars I fought as a man, under ancient kings. Perhaps you would have even been worthy of when your father, I and Beowulf clashed to prove who was the strongest.”

“Such praise,” Vergil said, sensing what had happened to his copy. Looking up he saw the three faces begin sucking the glowing gas from the air. He knew he needed to end this fast, before they could gain the power of all those souls.

Transforming, Vergil assumed his demon shape and unleashed his aura. Bolverk seemed to glow with excitement holding his spear ready with one hand and clawing the other in front of him.

They both shot forward, an after image of both remaining in place. The metal sheets under them cracked, the two meeting in the middle and the Yamato cutting three spiked ribs off. With a crack, the demon’s spear and arm flew into the air.

“Ahhh!!” Bolverk cried his spear flying past him. He slammed into the ground, light shining from within the wounds.  

@@@

Sensing how powerful the force was above him, Vergil turned from the demon. The three faces gave him a frightening reminder of Mundus looking down upon them. He kicked off the ground, Yamato ready. The three faces combined into one monstrosity and opened their mouth. Slammed back into the platform, Vergil felt himself being crushed under thousands of pounds of plasma. There was a metallic moan, the building gave way and darkness took him. The entire building buckled in, support giving way. Walls crashed into the water, sinking and disappearing.

For a moment Vergil felt weightless. His body couldn’t move, but there was a rippling feeling. Then he was filled with pain. He breathed in dust, gasping as he felt all his bones aching. Vergil himself covered in rock and steel, pushed it aside, his body trying to mend painfully.

“Foolish half-breed,” Bolverk said looking down upon him. Tiny in his remaining hand, was the Yamato. “You rely on your father’s power, and it holds you back. When we next meet, I shall be ready.”

Seeing the blade come down, Vergil grabbed at the katana. Cutting through his palms, the sword came all the way down to the hilt. Feeling ever cell trying to separate Vergil fought to hold himself together. Dark shadows slipped over the metal, in the shape of four huge, clawed wings. The demon walked away leaving him in the wreckage, the darkness retracted, and Vergil let go.

The crater of wreckage and metal circled into the middle where water overtook the sides. The platform had been crushed; pieces of the beams bent outward. The first three stories had collapsed in on itself and the exposed basement was flooding.

“That looks like it hurt,” an unfamiliar voice said.

Vergil had a hard time moving his head, but his eyes moved to Leon and his bright red hair. “You think your clever, don’t you?” he asked painfully.

Leon reached down and drew the Yamato out, setting the weapon down next to Vergil. He helped Vergil sit up and patted him on the shoulder.

“You’ve survived worse,” Leon said softly. “Don’t look like you’re going anywhere, maybe we should catch up.”

“What’s with the disguise?” Vergil asked his voice raspy.

“Don’t like it?” Leon smiled rubbing his chin. “I saw this model in a magazine and thought I’d give it a try.”

“Seems a little much.”

“He’s alive?” Lady’s voice called, climbing over the stone. Vergil for the first time saw something other than mild annoyance or disgust on her face for him “Last I saw there was a bunch of survivors swimming to shore and then boom the place collapses. I shouldn’t have left you alone!”

“The kids are alright?” Vergil managed as he sat up.  

“Oh… yeah they are. Matier is taking care of them,” Lady told him.  

“Good… I think I need a minute.”

Lucia watched from a little way; arms crossed. Wondering how these people were connected.

The Ruins of Dumary

Credo brought his sword down upon a creature of massive bulk. It had no head, but its large torso had a single eye staring out. The wound began sealing, the creature swinging a large claw after him as he rolled back.  The knights had fought their way to the chalice, deep underground and guarded. The stone room was filled with these creatures, carvings of the sun covering the floor and skeletons. There among the demons Credo’s bent and mangled shield lay.

Stepping backwards and slicing off a hand, Credo revved the sword igniting it. In his other hand was the chalice. Wilhelm hacked at a fallen golem, trying to make it stop moving. But as the fiery sword slashed, it also regenerated.

It was with a final cry, that Credo saw his last ally fall. The golem’s blood hardened and formed spikes, filling the man with holes.

Covered in blood, Credo put his back to the wall. He had been forbidden by his Holiness to use this power in front of them, but now that he was alone there was no reason to hold back.  He looked at the chalice in hand, an artifact from Sparda himself.

With a flash he grew larger, his right arm wrapped in a wing and to form a new shield. His skin became bluish grey, white feathers adorning him. This manmade devil had a halo formed onto his head, clawed feet and a single wing spreading from his back.

“I’m sorry Will… David…” Echoed Credo raising his weapon. “I must follow orders.”

With a dash, the demons were cleaved in two. He spun and the room grew hot as the sword, now a giant flaming weapon of judgment revved again. But even as he could see the ancient elevator to escape, he saw yet more of the golems gathering.

‘Kyrie… Nero… I’ll be home soon.’ He promised in his mind before everything went red.

Taking the elevator up, Credo back in human form and was completely covered in blood.  He stepped out into the night air and let out a cry of anguish. He had one Arcana and soon he would gather the others. The Order would use these to further their cause and to bring honor to Sparda, the Savior. That would make the sacrifices mean something.  

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 – The Abandoned City

Memories of Matier 3

He did eventually tell me about Yojimbo. One day after my brother went out on a mission and did not return, Sparda was there to comfort me.

We sat at the ocean side; I remember he was dressed in our style of robes but distinctly black. His white hair was cut shorter, refining him into a more modern man.

“He has a wife, I gave her my word,” Sparda told in a whisper, as he looked out on the waves.”

“I can help you find Geovanni,” I assured. I hoped I could use a location spell to track him. In my youth I was hardly able to contain my need to help, no matter the danger.

“You can go little one. But you will stay behind me.” He was solemn, warning me that he wasn’t sure what we would find.

I stared at my sandals. I was a full-grown woman now, but he still called me ‘little one’. Hohoho maybe it was my height.

“What about your brother? How did he…” I asked, but instantly regretted as Sparda’s face grew tense.

“I killed him.”

My blood running cold, I was shocked into silence. Sparda seemed statue like, shadows covering his face.

“Understand that I did not wish him harm. Demons fought all the time and, in the Hell-forge we both were swordsmen and swordsmiths.”

Sparda gripped the Yamato tightly. I thought to reach out to him, but hesitated.

“We were evenly matched last we dueled. It had been a friendly match of skill for us, but this time was different. I had made my choice to rebel against our emperor. I would kill every general, seal the gateways that the humans made and while Mundus himself is immortal, I would deliver him a blow that would leave him unable to bring harm.”

I couldn’t imagine what Sparda’s life had been like two millenniums ago or what it would be like to turn on my own kind. If there was some comfort to give, I hadn’t the words.

“My home… the Unsacred Gate. We met there, I having just forged a weapon of great power. I poured my need for justice, my will to end this war, and all my anguish to betray my own kin into the weapon. It forged a hell blade that baring my own name.  Yojimbo had forged a long-curved sword for the purpose of stopping me, a weapon that glowed with intensity.”

“Yojimbo trouble me not. I would not see another of my kin fall for Mundus.”

“Thou has forsaken thy kin Sparda. The humans live in rich lands, thriving and prospering. Mundus will give us all and more.”

“Let me pass.”

“Show me thy resolve. If thy have the stomach for this war!”

“On that hill, over our ancestors lands, we hinged everything on one strike. I raised the hell-blade and he drew his own. In that instant, I brought down a dark cut that parted the river. He however, had two attacks, summoning a phantom to strike low, while he went high.”

“And you still won?” I asked, the fascination muted by the pain in his voice.

“My intent was lethal. His two had never meant to kill, only stop me. His blade shattered against a weapon designed to cut down the King of Hell.”

I put my arms around him. Your father was a proud man, he didn’t want to share his pain, but for that moment we shed tears.

That moment seemed to last forever, but fore it was broken by shouting.

“We’ve found him! Geovanni lives!”

I demanded to know how he was, if he was truly still alive. Sparda following behind, a silent shadow.

While my brother lived, he would never stand upon his feet again. A demon had broken his spine, and it was a wonder he hadn’t been eaten. Sparda though still took it as him having failed his student.

The Abandoned City Of Dumary

“Matier, we have returned!” Lucia called as they came down the road.

Together Vergil, Lady and Leon followed. Lucia herself still had the Arcana Dagger on her belt, looking pleased with herself.

With an inhuman wail from within, the old windows began to glow. Vergil shielded his face, Leon grabbed Lucia, pulling her to the ground as Lady dove for cover.

The home of the Guardians went up in red and purple flames. An unnatural explosion dug deep into the cliffs and sent stone flying into the water. As the bluish smoke cleared, nothing was left, but a glowing crater.

“Oh god! Matier, she she…” Lucia cried, Leon putting a hand on her shoulder.

“What a mess,” came the old woman’s voice. The explosion had revealed a tunnel, revealing an underground stairway. Matier came tapping her staff upon the stone steps, looking a little dusty.

“You’re alive!” Lucia cried grabbing her mother.

“There there… Come on...”

“The enemy knows about us, we’ve lost the element of surprise,” Credo grumbled coming out of the cellar covered in bandages.

“Then it’s time to strike,” Vergil stated. He noticed Credo eyes drop to stare at the Yamato. With a wave the weapon dissipated into energy, but he noted the intensity. “You lost your men?”

“They gave their lives for humanity,” Credo replied standing up straight. “I will honor their memory.”

“Come take this chest,” Matier called motioning down into the basement. “We have all the Arcana.”

They left Old Dumary and headed to a small cabin away from the city. It looked very plain, what someone might rent for the night to vacation in, but underneath was an underground base as rich with weapons and artifacts as the one in the city.

Night fell and Matier set to making tea for everyone, while they freshened up. A small spring led down to a lake, near the cabin. Lady and Lucia went to wash as Vergil and Credo looked over a rough map of the city of Marli. Uruboros’s headquarters lay at the heart of the city, having everything built around it. As to what was inside, there were a few pictures and blueprints, but nothing less than ten years old.

“I don’t see any reason for you to go,” Vergil told Credo, making sure not to look at him. “If something goes wrong, you are to take the Arcana to Fortuna and keep them safe.”

Credo opened his mouth to argue, but then seemed to rethink it. Finally, he simply nodded in agreement.

“I had questions, about your father,” Credo told looking up from the table. “As a member of…”

“You will be disappointed,” Vergil warned putting a boot on the table. “When I knew my father, he was a family man. Not a savior, demon or knight, just my father who scolded us when we misbehaved.”

“And your brother Dante?” Credo noticed Vergil flinch. “What became of him?”

“He was lost to darkness.”

“Along with the Rebellion sword?”

Vergil’s eyes hardened, clearly not enjoying these questions. “The weak minded should stay away from Devil-Arms. I would hate for Fortuna’s fountains and spires to fall to demonic influence.”

Lady pulled on a spare shirt as her only piece of clothing. They had set a lamp to see, the moon glinting off the lake peacefully. A little from the water sat a case of weapons emptied onto the ground. Two pistols, a machinegun, shotgun, rocket launcher and enough ammo for each. A special belt of grenades custom made with crystalized demon blood, and yet more weaponry. She dismantled each and began cleaning them. Everything had to be compact. The bayonet, wire, bottle rockets and ammo all were loaded into the Kalina Ann v.2 with care.

“I see this is why you don’t have time for friends,” Lucia said coming over. She was dressed in a bathrobe, her belt of many knives and two blades against a tree.

“On contraire I have many friends,” Lady laughed. “You need many different contacts and drinking buddies to be a hunter.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t know,” Lucia admitted leaning against the tree. “All I ever had was Matier.”

“You need to get out and hit the bar,” Lady told her. Loading bullets into a clip, she smiled but it felt much lonelier. “It’s good you have a parent like her. I miss my mother.”

Lucia smiled back, turning to look at her reflection in the moonlight. Her red hair was down, long and thick. She’d never known anyone who looked like her, never had the chance to look at someone and see a family resemblance.

“Matier found me wandering the streets late at night,” Lucia explained sadly. “I had wondered off from my parents, no idea who or why I was there.”

“Sounds like fate to me.”

“I hope so. I’ve devoted everything to our clan, to Matier. I hardly had a moment to stop and really talk to the people of Dumary. Then when everyone started disappearing, it was like every single person matter. I protected them by night, watching over the old city. Until they were ordered out by Uruboros.”

“Must have been hard,” Lady said reaching in her bag, coming over and offering a can. “Let’s drink to a future where the people don’t need Lucia of the clan Marli protecting them.”

When Vergil came to bathe, he found Lady mumbling about losing a bullet in the bushes and Lucia asleep at a table. Deciding to leave them be, he went to the other side and took off his coat, unbuttoning his shirt.

“I haven’t bathed in the moonlight in a while,” Leon laughed throwing off his shirt and grabbing at his buckle.

“You… I… what?” Vergil’s eyes widened seeing the slender man running into the water nude.

“Come on! The water’s nippy, but you’ll get use to it!”

Now buttoning his shirt, Vergil retreated from whatever asinine nonsense was going on here. It was with a cry of anger that he took a full bucket of icy water over his back.

The night was nearly over when Vergil finally had the privacy he needed. His hair laying flat and still wet, he took some time to read. The tome was filled with Francois Villon book poetry that he’d written small notes in.

Knowing he should sleep, Vergil sighed at the sound of footsteps.

“Vergil, do you have a minute for an old woman?” Matier's old voice called.

His face softened, setting his book aside. Matier sat on a stump near him, laying the staff on the ground. In the moonlight shadows deepened her lined face, making her look even older.

“I suppose I can spare a moment,” Vergil added running his hand through his hair.

“It’s Lucia, my daughter is strong, stronger than she knows. But I am afraid for what is to come, what she will need to face.” Matier took off her small nit cap, revealing short white hair.

“You can leave this mission to the rest of us,” Vergil offered. “I give you my word I can handle this.”

“Do you believe in fate?” she asked meeting his eyes. “That there is some divine plan?”

“Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night, when the Soul Slept in Beams of Light, God Appears & God is Light to those poor Souls who dwell in Night,” Vergil quoted with his eyes closed. “If there is a fate, I would reject it.”

“Such a scholar,” Matier said clapping her hands. “Someday you must read more poetry for me. But sadly, it is not this night. Come my sweet daughter has a role to play and I would tell you the truth.”

The Demon City Of Marli

The city of Marli was full of metal and concrete. Tall skyscrapers and parking garages were lit in a sickly green light. Everything felt off. No modern synthetic maze should have no people, cars or even a street cat.

Vergil, Lucia, Lady and Leon walked in a row into this hellscape of silence and modernity. Above, the sky began to take on that same green haze as the power plant. Adding to the sense of doom was the echo of every little sound they made.

“Creepy,” echoed around them in Leon’s voice. He drew out his twin pistols, looking wide eyed.

“All this for some demon?” Lady asked to no one. “Further proof that some people aren’t worthy of being called human.”

“Let’s end this,” Lucia added and drew out one of her swords. “We should head straight for…”

But Lucia stopped as she saw two large tanks sitting in the road ahead. This hadn’t startled her, till the large pulsing eyes had snapped open to stare at them. The machines roared to life, turning their large barrels towards them.

“OH SHI…” Leon began but was caught off guard by an exploding rocket launcher next to him.

The first tank exploded, Lady clanging another shell into the chamber. The second tank however fired on them. The rocket came flying towards them, only to be caught midair by a phantom sword. The heat blazed upon them, but at a safe distance.

Without pause, Lady fired again, and the second tank went up like the first. There was a roar of fire and then the cries of some feral creatures. Hundreds of black, venom spewing apes began pouring out of a parking garage, all heading for the source of the commotion.

“Ahead! GO!” Vergil shouted and vanished, before reappearing on a balcony.

“Easy for you to say!” Lady complained firing a grappling hook upward.

That left only Lucia and Leon. With a shrug, Leon vanished in a bolt of lightning. Now alone, Lucia not wanting to be attacked by a mob of demons ran at full speed into an alley. With a great effort, she kicked off the walls and climbed a fire escape. Moving at the pinnacle of human speed, she leapt roof tops, climbing up, dropping and finally smashing through glass. It was then that the helicopter lit up the windows, a great eye bulging out of where a pilot should be.

Not in one place long, Vergil gripped the Yamato. He sliced portal, after portal, seeing demons swarming the city. In a church, goat creatures floated against blood seals on the wall, in a convince store there were apes throwing chips and junk food everywhere. It was when it was finally on the roof of one of the tall buildings that he saw the strange source of everything.

There were three skyscrapers standing in a circle at the center of the city. Connecting at the top of them, was a diamond shaped piece of stone. Underneath and between them, there was a pyramid of the same material. It was some kind of manmade conduit, Vergil guessed. This was what Arius was using to summon demons and what would open a hell-gate for Argosax to enter.

“Well that just looks friendly,” Lady said climbing up to him. “That thing works like the Temen-ni-gru, right?”

“Yes.”

“Could we use it to find Dante? If he’s still trapped in there?”

Vergil didn’t look at Lady, the wind catching them. He’d never given up the search, but he also hadn’t shared what had happened at Mallet Island with her.

“I have a plan,” he admitted. “And I will find my brother.”

“Right, then I have your back. This time.”

Another demonic tank roved the street in front of Uruboros’ entrance. It turned it’s top, the cat like eye wildly looking around. The one direction it didn’t look, was above. Lucia landed onto it, boots squishing in the dark flesh.  Its eye rolled to look up at her as she drove her blades down into it. The eye burst, gushing everywhere, as it spun its barrel to try to throw off the attacker. With a clink, a grenade slid into it’s open top and the explosion that came was mixed with gore.  

The helicopter came speeding towards the sound, eye that matched the tank glowing with hate. Lucia felt the adrenaline and power rise in her. She transformed into the bird like shape and thousands of sharp feathers peppered the machine. It lost control only a moment before a lightning bolt struck it, causing it to explode midair.

“A little power feels good, huh?” Leon asked glowing.  

“I just want to be me,” Lucia snapped transforming back. “Now where are…”

Lady came running down machine gun in hand. A horde of the apes were following, as she turned to pepper them.

“We survive this, I get a date… alright?” Leon asked raising his guns. “I’ll even not charge the old lady.”

“So generous… alright,” Lucia smiled. “But you’re paying.”

Raining gunfire and carefully aimed daggers to cover Lady, the apes drew closer and closer. The hoard leapt over the fallen’s bodies, never stopping their crazed stampede.

Lady ran up the concrete stairs and slid near Lucia and Leon. She was covered in sweat and breathing hard but still didn’t waste any time. She turned the rocket launcher to face the ground and propped the backside up.

“Stay behind me!” she ordered and flipped open the back.  The twenty small barrels were glowing with heat, each clicking to life with a flip of the switch.

The load of heat-seeking rockets soared to life. The small explosives went wild, picking targets at random and flying into the crowd. Leaving the tide of demons as a bloody smear, Lady saw the horde pause.

The ape like Msira were chirping and screeching at each other. They seemed to be communicating something to each other.

“I think you scared them,” Leon half whispered.

“There’s more where that came from,” Lady replied dropping to one knee. But she wasn’t smiling as she focused on the horde.

“Let them come!” Lucia added trying to sound like part of the group but feeling odd when it was silent after.

There was a shadow across one of the skyscrapers. It moved from one building to another, the windows bowing out unnaturally. Hands seem to push from within, but not against the glass, more as if something were distorting the building to its shape from within.

The Msira began to flee, leaving the hunters alone with the creature inside the building. The empty streets going from a tide of black to empty gray concrete.

“What is that!?” Lucia asked out loud, seeing shapes in the building across from them.

Lady fired a rocket, smacking into the shadow and shattering glass, but the thing just kept moving. Leon stood like a statue, watching before bracing and yelling “It’s coming!”

The creature tore out of reality. The building gave way as its hand emerged, horrific flesh, stone and bats making up its form. The building seemed to fuse into the creature, even as its misshapen head chewed the glass. Inside there was gnarled teeth and light, a creature dripping with pus and sick. The size of the creature would have been half that of the skyscrapers if it hadn’t been fused to them.

Roaring, beams of light rained down with concrete and shattered glass. Lady slid to cover; the concrete being pocked with holes. Lucia flipped between lasers but felt her shoulder sheer with pain. Every shout, cough or cry the creature made, it rained lasers and shrapnel at them. There was nothing to be done, Lady fired rockets, but the thing didn’t seem to care as metal parted from its face. Lucia couldn’t think of a way to attack it, she could transform and fly around it, but that would do nothing to the creature.

It was Leon who attacked, avoiding a large metallic hand and running up the thing. He drew his devil-arm, the lightning blade slashing across its face. The Nefasvermis cried out, clearly in pain, only to swat the attack away. With a sick crunch, Leon hit the ground, blood staining the sidewalk.

Lucia ran to him, seeing the mangled body. His limps broken, skin taking off and neck at an odd angle. H

“That hurt,” Leon complained straining to raise up. His body seemed to be glowing as it reset itself. “Uhh... I don’t think I can maintain the disguise.”

Leon began thinning, breast swelling and body curving. For a moment, Lucia was shocked to see a woman with the same red frowhawk and leather. He had always been effeminate, but it was still shocking.

This womanly Leon tried to move, body clearly broken. Above them, the hellish demon was roaring and looking at the two women.

“Get out of here Lucia. Get Vergil.”

“It’s my job to protect…” Lucia said glowing white. “Stay right there.”

She drew her energy swords as she transformed again. Preparing to do whatever it took, her wing spead with intense strength. The devilish power felt good, energy coursing through her. But even with this she knew she couldn’t do anything. Lady a little from her was cursing as smoke poured from her weapon. There was nothing that they could do.

“Depart sycophant of Hell!”

Vergil dropped from above and jabbed the Yamato into the creature’s head. For a moment, it bent forward looking angry at the injury, but as Vergil pushed the blade through the flesh it seemed to slide out of the building. Somehow disconnecting from the building itself, the creature became more flesh like.

Pieces of the building falling off, Nefasvermis’ arm was no longer able to hold itself together. From within the creature a cloud of bats came flying out. They circled Vergil, tearing at his clothes and flesh with vengeance.

Lucia kicked off the ground, flying like a missile. Lady aimed up, the Kalina Ann flaring with fire. The white streak of Lucia crashed into its face, carving its head open. It unleashed a bolt of energy, carving a jagged line into the Uruboros building as it detached from its neck.

With a flash, dozens of spectral blades fired out piercing the countless bats. The head of the demon slid crashed onto the street with a sick splat before springing to life again. It used what was left of its jaw to inch towards them, only for Lady to step out, fire blazing out the back of her huge weapon.

The explosion took a chunk out of the street, the Nefasvermis now a blood splatter at the edges of the crater.

“Took you long enough,” Trish complained standing up. She still had terribly torn flesh on her arms and back, but her face had healed.

“Had to wait for an opening,” Vergil shrugged.

“More like risked our asses!” Lady yelled.

Lucia while they argued had wondered to the entrance. It was covered by a ghostly barrier. The demons reached out, defending the glass doors. For whatever reason, as she approached it felt so familiar.

“Great, now there’s a barrier,” Trish complained looking at her arm scabbing over.

“It isn’t a problem,” Lucia told softly. The hands and mouths retracted from the doors, both crawling and swimming to let her enter.

“That’s nice,” Lady said swinging her large weapon onto her back. “I think I am ready to get in and finish this mission. I don’t need any more skyscrapers trying to kill me.”

Lucia stood there hand gently on the door, the barrier glowing around her. Vergil glanced at her walked forward. Lady looked nervous, slipping through, leaving only Trish and Lucia.

“Good job,” Trish smiled and snapped her fingers into a finger-gun sending sparks everywhere.

Chapter Text

Memories of Matier 4

The day Sparda left us was painful. There had been a time of rest, we had driven demons from our lands and brought peace to Vie de Marli. It wasn’t a total peace, a spare demon still attacked, but our efforts had paid off.

We had a small village to ourselves outside of Dumary, others went abroad, or some began to flock to the newly founded city. Maybe it was the peace, but when my father died leaving the clan with no true leadership, we were fractured.

I remember sitting watching the small children playing. The sounds of construction filled the air, and my brothers were shouting from inside about leadership. I don’t know if I smell it on the wind, but I knew something was wrong.

“Children, get inside! I think a storm is coming!” I told, a chill running up my spine.

“But Aunt Matier there isn’t any clouds!”

“Listen to Auntie, ok?”

“Domizio, Chiara with me,” Sparda yelled sliding his sword in his belt. “Matier, you sense it too?”

I started, but Sparda he already knew.  

“It’s coming from the south.”

The four of us ran down the dirt road, hearing the first screams of the attack. The chills became a sinking feeling in my stomach, something overwhelming.

“BRING HIM TO ME!!” I heard echoing in my mind. Buildings shattered and splintered into the air. “Bring me the traitor!!”

Men with spears charged and fell. Covered in blood, the statue like skeleton marched forward shouted for its enemy to come fight it.

“Bolverk,” Sparda whispered. I never forgot that creatures name, even if I only heard it once. It was burned into my mind, along with everyone it killed.

Sparda told us to stay back, and I argued I could help. But the demon was shouting for the ‘traitor’ to come out.

“If Bolverk is here, then Freki and Geri are nearby,” Sparda told us. “I’ll handle him.”

Sparda approached the huge skeleton and Bolverk let out a raddling his. His long spear glowed with an evil edge, his eye sockets glowing with hate.

“There you are, come enemy of enemies! Traitor, coward!” it shouted in a rage. “The spirits of my friends will ravage these humans, these people you choose over your own kind! I will cut off all your limbs and make you watch as we kill every one of them!”

“Leave them alone,” Sparda told drawing his sword. “It’s me you want!”

“Have you no honor?” Bolverk demanded. His face couldn’t change, but the light inside became more intense. “You would face me with that weapon? Not even your own power?”

The Yamato reflected the light of the enemy. Sparda had made it a new handle, a guard and wrappings. Sparda himself seemed to grimace.

“Have you fallen so far you have to rely on the brother you slew? Bring out your real strength, show me the devil that fell Mundus!” That voice beat in my mind, words vibrating my head.

While fear was heavy in my heart, Sparda had never failed us. The two figures traded strikes, for the first time not slaying a foe with his first strike.

“What about Baul and Modeus? Were you so ready to abandon them? Did killing Yojimbo really cut all ties to your kin?”

“Silence!” Sparda shouted anger rising in his voice. Shadows danced around him, darkness moving unnaturally.

I stood there watching, my brother Domizio beside me. The clan was gathering, stunned by the fight of these demons fighting.

“Which of these humans matters so much to you?” Bolverk’s voice called in everyone’s mind. “Tell me and I shall kill them for you.”

Sparda deflected the blade and rolled out of the way. He grazed the stone hip, sending shards flying, but Bolverk was flung himself forward. In my mind, I remember it like a wind. The creature rushed past me, spear crushing bones beside me. He would have killed me as well, but Sparda blocked the next attack.

I don’t remember what happened next. I was awake, but it’s blocked from my mind. My brother had been a victim of its first attack and others dove out of the way, as Sparda tried to stop the onslaught. It was them that Sparda transformed, revealing what was described to me as a black shape of countless wings and horns.

The battle turned and Bolverk couldn’t stand the fury of your father. As the creature fell, he reduced to dust and lost physical form.

The next thing I remember was shouting. The clan were outside arguing, and I don’t remember how much time had passed, but I snapped back hearing the curses directed at Sparda. He simply stood there, a dark shape distanced from everyone.

“He came for Sparda! Who is to say more won’t?”

“The wolves killed twenty people! Our clan isn’t even a clan anymore! We have no choice but to leave and rejoin with others.”

“We have no leader and no hope to fight that kind of devil! What if it comes back? That was a possession! Someone manifested that!”

“Humans and demons don’t mix!”

“There is no choice,” Geovanni’s voice came. I turned to look at him in his chair. My brother had aged since losing his legs, his eyes dark and full of terror. I know the attack affected him greatly, he had been helpless. “Sparda, we appreciate all you’ve done for us. But you will have to leave.”

“I saw it, what he really is,” a woman whispered from the crowd. “It was such a horror.”

“He can’t!” I shouted. My voice wasn’t my own, feeling so alien after my silence. “He is our protector! Sparda is…”

I looked to Sparda, who’s eyes shown pain and something else. I think it was determination.

“It’s ok little one,” he told me. Coming over, the crowd distanced themselves from him. “I think it’s time I moved on.”

Inside Uruboros

Uruboros had a decadent entrance. Stairs going up on either side, a giant welcome counter and gold trimmed walls. The untrained eye wouldn’t have noticed the runes, the shapes making summoning circles in the sparkling tiles. This was a modern building hiding an ancient evil.

The lights flickered, a sense of thick magic filling the room.

“How interesting, I would have never guessed the old clan would use one of my own creations against me.” Arius’ low voice came over the intercoms. “Please by all means ascend, each floor you will find a new piece of Hell. I will be here waiting, enjoying myself and my victory to come.”

“What does he mean?” Lucia asked looking concerned. Trish seemed to hover near her, stone faced.

“You can ask him when we get there,” Vergil murmured. “I don’t want to be late for the festivities.”

They ascended the stairs; the building built on luxury and excess. Two could walk abroad the stairs, its waxed steps alternated patterns. Vergil confidently walked in front, Trish and Lucia behind him and Lady in back. It seemed impossible that they could be ambushed. In such a small space it would be suicide to come at them.

“Lucia, there is something I been meaning to ask,” Trish said gun in hand.

“I have many questions for you,” Lucia snapped back. “Like how is it you were a man, now you are a woman? I don’t know how you went from Leon to Trish.”

“Oh that…” Trish began laughing. “I just thought it would be a fun change of pace. You should have seen the look on Vergil’s face.”

“So, you know each other?” Lucia asked as they came to a long hallway at the top of the steps. The walls, ceiling and floor were all the same pattern, but in different colors of tiles. “Does everyone, but me have history?”

“Those two were on some romantic trip around the world,” Lady called from the back. “And they don’t really know me, we just work together sometimes.”

“Silence,” Vergil warned and held a handout. There was a strange chatter as little stone creatures flew towards them, filling the hallway’s ceiling.

Lucia saw the statue like creatures. They reminded her of a cherub, but angry. Trish and Lady instantly began lighting up the room with flashes, gunfire becoming a constant sound.

Joining them were Blades, the lizard demons. They curled up, spinning down the hall. Vergil drawing a magic sword, thrust and sending it the first flying back. Lucia flipped over the next and with two cuts severed its spine. Her blades met shields next, and she began dancing around the scaled demons. Vergil beside her, moved effortlessly controlling floating blades, as well as the one in hand. It seemed unreal, as he parried multiple attackers at once.

The hall was covered in blood, the intruders uninjured as the floating demons fled in fear. The building seemed to retract in on itself, space twisting and turning.

“It wasn’t romantic,” Trish cutting in and moving next to Lucia.

“What?” Lucia managed perplexed.

“Vergil and me.”

“I think there are more pressing concerns,” Vergil said looking annoyed.

“Yeah, like these doors.” Lady motioned to the countless doors in the hall. At first glance they seemed normal, but on further inspection, they were flat, more like wooden cut outs.

“Please take your time,” Arius’ voice came now higher pitch. “I’m sure one of them is real.”

“I’m going to deck him,” Lady scowled.

Vergil was already walking ahead, ignoring the props. He could feel the skyscraper was moving from the human realm into Limbo. Arius was doing some form of ritual, drawing power from the Hell. This kind of reality warping shouldn’t be possible for a human, but this place generated the same power as that damned tower all those years ago.

“This isn’t right,” he said looking back, only to find a wall in front of him. The long hallway, as well as his allies were now missing, only leaving a straight shot ahead.

“Where did Vergil go?” Lucia demanded turning to look at Trish.

“Or Lady,” Trish shrugged. “I guess this is Arius’ plan. Divide and kill us one by one.”

“Well, I plan to put a dagger in his heart myself,” Lucia said anger overtaking her. “Let’s go.”

Lucia hardly noticed the energy invigorating each step. It was as if she could run miles, harder and faster than ever before. The air somehow smelled sweet, lighter and almost fun.

“I still had a question,” Trish’s voice came a little distant. Unlike Lucia, she was very casual about her pace. “Did you realize your transformation wasn’t from that stone or are you still in denial?”

“What?” Lucia snapped. The air seemed to spark with her, a heat in her chest. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Trish smiled at her, looking as if she knew so much. It made Lucia angrier. “Look babe I know it’s a lot to handle, but we need to accept…” Trish began, but a golden blade burst from her chest.

“TRISH!” Lucia cried rolling past her and cutting into the assailant.

A woman in a maroon suit and high collar slid back, a thin golden blade in hand. She was wearing a bird-like mask adorned with black feathers.

“Chi…” the she-devil hissed, and Lucia leapt at her.

The two crossed blade, Lucia boiling with rage. Her whole body felt like it was burning to kill and when the blades met again, she overpowered the devil with one powerful strike.

Blood splattered on Lucia’s face, her sword carving the enemy nearly in two. With a snap, the mask split and there Lucia saw her own reflection. This doppelganger was her twin in appearance.

“What is this new madness?!” Lucia demanded.

“Oh Chi, poor little failure. Can’t you see, they all have been lying to you,” Arius’ echoed down the hall. “You are my creation, my pet, my daughter.”

“LIES!” Lucia cried the room glowing with her anger. When there was movement behind her, she whipped around sword lunging.

“Careful,” Trish warned her, the blade passing and leaving a small cut on her cheek. “You need to calm down.”

“What… who is that?” Lucia demanded pointing her weapon at the body.  

“We can figure this out later, right now you need to get control of yourself!” Trish warned summoning the Alastor to hand.

Lucia turned to see four more of the same bird masked women walking towards them. Each were built just like her and as they removed their mask, revealed the same face.

Lady looked up; the ceiling had broken away to stretch into a spiraling storm. Far above a demonic face was laughing.

The walls were covered in some strange growth, a few eyes staring out here or there.

“Mary…” a voice hummed. “Oh, sweet Mary.”

Hair raising on the back of her neck, Lady pulled up her machinegun from its strap and looked around. The fake doors began opening, each with a moving flat image of trees or mountains.

Slowly walking forward, she kicked each door closed. Left, right, left and then her blood went cold. There in the doorway was a Jester dressed in black.

“Hello dear!” it called before the painting was riddled with holes.

“Wheeew, you almost made me look like cotton candy!”

“How the fuck are you alive?!” She demanded letting lose a torrent of bullets across the room.

“Oh daughter… or should I say sister? Who can say?”

Jester peaked out from another door. He was a much more twisted and extreme version of the disguise Arkham had worn. The texture was closer to a rough metal, his face more stretched and extreme. One eye was completely black, while the other matched Lady’s red.

“I killed you!” she shouted riddling the door to pieces.

“You did… and didn’t dear Mary. When those twins were blasting daddy to bits, I escaped. A little wormy piece of the inhuman part of Arkham. That part he sacrificed momma to make.”

 Finally reaching the end of the hall, Lady found two double doors shaped like a lion’s head. Barring the way was Jester, giving her a friendly wave.

“Now where was I? Oh yes, I needed to escape the demon realm, but turns out its a HELL of a lot harder to get out for me.”

Lady fired the entire clip, Jester dancing out of harm’s way. She grabbed up het shotgun and took aim.

“So Argosax offered to help. We both want the same thing,” he paused as the slug bounced off his face. “To escape the great calamity, the devil among devils.”

The Kalina Ann roared with fury, a rocket flying at the creature. The Jester however opened his jaw, letting it crack to the floor and swallowed the explosive.

“Spicy,” he commented with a burp. “Now for me to exist in your realm, I need your blood, our blood to restore me. So come give daddy a little kiss for old times’ sake!” Jester’s mouth widened to reveal rows of spiked teeth and filling the air with a low growl.

“My blood?” Lady asked not emoting at all. There was a darkness to her eyes, but the shock had given way. “Here take it.”

Shoving her hand into Jester’s huge mouth, Lady pulled a pin. Jester pushed her back, teeth digging into her arm. As she hit the floor, he swallowed the grenade and began laughing.

“OH, THAT’S GOOD MY GIRL!!! A grenade? Don’t you think it would take a little more than that to kill me?” Jester laughed a sound that bounced between a squeak and a bass.

“Just a grenade?” Lady asked clinching her bloody hand into a fist. “I didn’t lie when I said it was my blood. Demon’s gain power through the blood of humans, so I mixed it with crystalized demon blood.”

“Clever girl…” Jester began reaching his long arm down his throat, eyes going wide before he exploded into a ball of light.

There were the roar countless small explosions collapsing in on themselves. The room went dark, then bright and the room was filled with fire. The compressed power exploded out and the walls shattered. Instead of other rooms or outside the skyscraper, only a vortex of twisting darkness was revealed. From the fire ball, a round creature leapt out. The ivory ball had long spindly spider legs, a twisted face with a glowing red eye and a cruel smile. It hissed at Lady before crawling out into the void, her shouts and bullets following it.

Vergil found the same lion head doors as lady and entered a large, carpeted room. Arius sat on his desk; hand raised with a glass of wine. There was so much smug, decadence to him and this office. A personal bar, gold trims, his fur lined jacket and perfectly groomed mustache.

“I thought you would get here first,” Arius laughed. He faded in and out of reality a moment, revealing he himself was not in limbo.

“I’m impatient,” Vergil responded with a shrug.

The room was covered in a red and gold veil. Behind it, red energy glowed and twisted. He knew this room was the Hell-Gate. Human Realm, Limbo and Demon World were all connected here. Through the red, he could also see three faces circling them.

“It would be so easy if you simply brought me the Arcana,” Arius told setting the glass down. “But I will just have to settle for the Yamato. With that sword I can cut a portal to Hell and Argosax will be free!” On ‘free’ Arius’ voice off key.

“And then what?” Vergil asked the madman with mild curiosity. “He gives you power? Immortality? And you serve him for that eternity?”

“Much simpler, I will be the king of this world. All humans will bow before a new Man-God,” Arius told extending his arms. “Argosax will grant me all of his power and we shall be one!”

“Foolishness, why are all madmen the same.”

“Halfbreed…” echoed around them room. Vergil turned to see Bolverk fade in from a flash of light. He held a long spear in hand and his two wolves slipped from behind the veil. “I shall take your father’s weapon from you and end your abdominal life.”

“Interesting,” Vergil smiled holding his hand out in front of him. “I’ve been thinking on what you said. You rely on your father’s power, and it holds you back… I think it’s time I show you what power a son of Sparda wields.”

A spectral sword formed, at first taking the shape of the Rebellion and then growing longer. It took on a single edge, small crystal-like structures within and floating around it. It most resembled the Sparda Hell-Blade but refined and made of a gem like ore. As it became more solid, it seemed to have weight in Vergil’s hand.

“What to call this… how about the Devil-Sword Vergil?” he announced letting the sword tip touch the ground.

“Good, let’s see if you have more honor than your father!” Bolverk roared and charged towards him.

As they passed the weapons clashed, and multicolored sparks flew everywhere. Arius fell back, his desk flipping from the force echoing between realms. The two wolves only circled, watching as three more strikes rang out. The veil began to blow back, energy cracking around the two warriors.

“This is nothing compared to your father,” Bolverk hissed pushing his blade harder against Vergil’s. “You think a half-breed can really match a real devil’s power?”

“So much bravo in your words,” Vergil murmured between clinched teeth. “You are struggling as much as… ME!”

With all his might, Vergil through back the spear and carved a long trail through Bolverk’s chest. The phantom blade cracked and chipped, but it shredded the thick bones. Hearing the cry of their master, the two wolves Freki and Geri latched onto Vergil’s arms. Blood stained his sleeves, the new devil sword clattering to the ground.

“Perhaps the strength of Sparda endures,” Bolverk admitted standing up. His insides were glowing with light, a white liquid dripping from the bone. “But I cannot allow the blood of a traitor to live.”

“The Yamato!” Arius demanded. “Get it from him!”

“Silence!” Bolverk shouted back, Arius cowering behind his desk. “Don’t think yourself above me human. I shall pull it from his corpse and free our King.”

“Vergil!” Trish called running into the room. She had the same faint static to her, like Arius. Behind Lucia followed, covered in blood and eyes having dark circles under them.

“What’s going on?” Lady demanded coming in last. “I can see you guys, but can’t?”

“We are on different dimensions,” Trish explained. “Arius is manipulating Limbo.”

“Smart,” Arius said clapping. “Another artificial demon, but not one of my own. I never would have expected that. I wanted you each on different levels, but my spell only expected two humans, Chi and the half-demon.”

“Le… Trish?” Lucia asked looking at her, before focusing on Arius. “AND WHO IS CHI?!”

Lucia ran across the room and drew her sword. Holding the weapon high and backhanded she aimed to stab the madman between the eyes. But as she got close, her arm froze in place.

“Now now, you can’t hurt me Chi.” Arius laugh grasping the weapon between his two fingers and lowering it. “I am your master.”

“But I can,” Trish shouted and with a bolt of lightning drew the Alastor through his neck.

“Oh, but I’ve already fixed that,” Arius said unphased by the weapon. “You are no longer a threat.”

Bolverk turned to Trish, his spear in hand. Now they were on the same dimension and Arius a faint static image. Vergil remained held by the wolves, his hair half falling in his face.

“Now, Chi… kill the devil hunter,” Arius told motioning to Lady. Lucia turned; her body surrounded in a white light as her blade went high.

“Hey… don’t make me hurt you,” Lady warned seeing Lucia begin to walk towards her. “You are Lucia of the Guardians, remember?”

“I can’t… I…” Lucia cried out feathers masking her face. “He’s making me…”

Arius making sure to walk as far around from Bolverk as possible got behind Lucia. He drew out a long revolver and walked slowly with her towards Lady, a smug look on his face.

“Chi is my creation. That Marli bitch found her and decided to use my own weapon against me!” Arius’s voice went high with offense. “You see, Chi is a defect. She’s so emotional and must be forced to obey. But that’s easy enough.”

Lady’s hand went to her grenade belt. Lucia’s power was above that of a normal demon and the chance of Lady being able to simply disable her was low. But a grenade like this could kill her.

Bolverk’s spear lunged for Trish, who had just enough time to dodge in a bolt of lightning. The demon warrior however didn’t let up. With each attack, Trish had no chance to strike back. She could dodge faster than the eye could see, but the perfected strikes from millenniums of practice were beyond any measure of skill.

Vergil pulled against the wolves, his body beginning to glow with a demonic aura. In a burst of energy, he transformed, and his claws tore into the wolves. Bolverk turned just in time to catch the son of Sparda crashing into him.

Trish stepped back, seeing Vergil throw Bolverk beyond the veil. The blue demon turned to face her and from his hand a ball of light flew out. Vergil’s fanged mouth hiss and she got the message. With a smile Trish took the light and it took on the shape of a katana in her hand.

Vergil flew out into the void, seeing the skeletal demon regain his footing despite there being no ground. In his hand, Vergil reformed the phantom sword of his namesake. The chipped blade became whole and sharper than ever.

Clashing in the void, blades trading blows faster and faster. The two warriors couldn’t let up for even a second, or else that would decide the battle. Bolverk’s spear was large and meant he had to keep distance to have an advantage. He was incredibly fast for its size, but Vergil was gaining an edge. Bolverk stayed defensive, spinning the spear and focusing on blocking. High, low, high and with a torrent of strikes from all sides nothing struck home.

“How long can you keep up this effort?” Bolverk boomed into the void. “Your human body won’t handle this for long.” The two blades met, and the spear cracked, Bolverk crying out as he began tactically parried with the other side. He’d never seen such a fury.  

With a spinning motion, Vergil slammed his whole body behind the sword. The spear shattered, splitting blade, pole and arm of the skeletal demon.

“WITHOUT ARGOSAX YOU CANNOT SAVE YOUR BROTHER!” Bolverk called, the Devil-Sword Vergil slicing deep into his collar bone.

Vergil hesitated and using that second, Bolverk jabbed a thin bone dagger into Vergil’s chest. Drawing the sword down, Bolverk was split in half and exploded into light.

Trish with Yamato sliced the air, creating a black portal. Arius gasped a high-pitched sound and in an instant was caught by the blade in the neck. Lucia turned and brought her two blades at Trish but was caught off guard by a shotgun blast to the back.

Falling to the ground, Lucia reverted to human form. Her clothes were torn from the impact, revealing a large X tattooed on her back.

Arius himself crashed onto his own bar and began gasping for air, blood spurting from his throat. Trish sheathed the blade mimicking Vergil and as the two wolves of Bolverk tried to escape, they were caught by bolts of lightning.

Chapter Text

Memories of Matier 5

I followed Sparda to the port in Dumary, nothing but the clothing on my back. He had wrapped himself in a dark cloak, a rug-sack slung over his shoulder and the Yamato on his belt. There had been no farewells, only frightened whispers. His true demonic form had embedded a deep fear in all who had seen it and his presence was a threat to the clan.

“Go back little one,” Sparda told me. I remember his eyes; they had grown so dark.

“Take me, let me follow you where ever you go.” It makes me blush to admit it, but my fondness for your father had taken deep root in my heart. That simple girlhood crush didn’t care if I was abandoning my clan. I offered to be his assistant, his servant, his woman. Just not to leave me.

He placed his hands on my shoulder and with pain he told me to stay. “Listen Matier, its time I disappear. Let the world forget about Sparda and let the old demon rest. Your clan needs a leader and I know you have it in you to lead them.”

Of course, I thought this was nonsense and told him so. “My brothers can do it; they would not listen to a girl like me!”

“Then make them,” Sparda ordered. “Human, demon, it all comes down to the heart. You must pass on my will and that of your clan. Be a true guardian.”

I cried a long time after that, but he stayed with me till nightfall. My dark protector and first love.

“Did you ever see him again?” Vergil asked his eyes barely open. He had leaned back to rest against the stone wall.

“No, from that moment the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda was dead to the world. I’m sure he was out there protecting humanity, but no longer did we hear rumor or tale of him.”

“I remember him as a family man,” Vergil laughed dryly. “A dry and formal father to us wild boys.”

His will lives on in me and in you. I moved on, had children and a husband. I don’t regret any of it and I am lucky to have Lucia in my old age.”

The Demonic Veil

Vergil floated in the void, he could sense all the energy moving around him. This had been converted from human life, flowing up the skyscrapers and bridging the realms. He could feel a presence moving, breathing with devilish intent.

His wings spread wide, beginning to drift further and further into the void. A vibration in his ears became a booming bass that shuttered his body. It was nearby.

Three faces, each covered in energy came into focus. They were so aged they might have been carved of stone. Fire, ice and lightning wrapping around them, displaying their power. Worst of all, they each had three eyes like Mundus.

“We have come to judge your sins,” Trismagia called from three separate mouths. “Judgment must be passed.”

“Sins?” Vergil asked his glowing eyes watching the entity. “Judge someone who cares.”

“A half-breed who belongs nowhere,” the white face cried, tears running down it’s face. “Can such a being not be damned? Is it not predestined sin?”

“A slayer of devils,” the red face roared. Flames licked its eyes and mouth as rage burned within. “You slay your own kind for the crimes of desire, the same that burns within you.”

“A slayer of humans,” the blue face laughed. Its joy sparked with life, electrical currents snapping from it’s being. “How many died to grant you the power you wield? From your mother to all those faceless human deaths by raising the unholy tower.”

“You desire me to explain myself?” Vergil demanded sword forming in hand. “Perhaps I shall judge you instead!”

 The three faces laughed in unison, coming together and fusing into one. A golden face comprised of four eyes three noses and three mouths roared out an echoing cry.  From within the demon a beam of light sent Vergil spiraling into the void. His very cells struggled under the power that had been gathered here tonight.

“Truly you struggle against fate,” the three called. It opened its mouths wide, growing larger and larger as space distorted. “To Hell with you Son of Sparda!!”

With the last of his strength, Vergil reached out. He called out, for the strength to stop this devil. And in the next instant the light that was Vergil was gone. The face swallowed him, darkness encompassing all.

The Uruboros Office

“Lucia are you alright?” Lady asked helping the red-headed woman to her feet. The shotgun had torn her clothes and left a nasty mark, but it was incredible that’s all it had done.

“I tried to kill you!” Lucia cried, tears filling her eyes. “He was in control of me.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Lady laughed unamused. “Half my friends tried to kill me once.”

“HE MADE ME!” Lucia fell to her knees. Arius’ body lay in a pool of his own blood near her. “I’M HIS DAMNED CREATURE! He made me.”

“Get ahold of yourself.” Lady’s expression hardened. “Lucia, you have Matier to go back to! Your life doesn’t begin and end with that sick fuck.”

Lady was shaken, clearly dealing with her own issues. Lucia watched her reload and pack up her weapons, hardly noticing Trish put an arm around her.

“It’s not what or who you are Lucia. And it sure as hell doesn’t matter what you were made for, trust me I know.” Lucia looked at Trish, the unearthly beauty both mesmerizing and a little frightening. “Focus on who you want to be, and we’ll make it happen, ok?”

“How do we get out of here?” Lady asked pulling back the slide on her gun. “This place isn’t exactly normal.”

Trish looked around, sighed and slid the Yamato under her belt. Before she could give an answer, there was a gasp and Arius lurched forward.

“I cannot die… not here,” Arius whispered his body raising like a puppet on strings. “Chaos must be manifest.” His body jerked with a crunch; his ribs tearing through the skin. His stomach was becoming a mouth of writhing teeth as his skin began to mummify.

“I thought I killed you,” Trish cried out in annoyance.

Before Trish could attack him, Lady fired a rocket that exploded into flame and smoke. The black cloud tore back, long white tentacles whipping from Arius’ back.

“MY POWER IS GODLIKE!” Arius called, his now warped voice in full falsetto. He fired a laser of plasma across the room. Lucia flipped over it, Trish vanished in a spark and Lady slid under, taking another shot. “I cannot be defeated by the likes of YOU!”

Arius dashed forward catching Trish midair as she reappeared. He pinned her to the floor with his extra appendages, shouting nonsense.  

“I’m really not in the mood!” Lady shouted as explosion went off at the side of Arius’ head. The energy collapsed and exploded out. Arius’ skull and brain was exposed, pieces of his head splattering on the floor.

Lady pulled another pin and Arius smacked the grenade away, only for Trish to get free and slice Arius’ arm off from the shoulder.

“Are you going to do nothing?” Lady demanded looking to Lucia. “Didn’t you say it was your job to defend Vie de Marli? Does the fact you’re a demon change everything you’ve fought for?”

“I… Yes, umm no,” Lucia coming out of her shock.

Arius stood straight, arm socket spurting with tentacles and his face mending unnaturally. It took on new tumor like shapes, further and further from the man he had been. He seemed to stare into nothingness, his eyes going blank.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Trish warned sheathing the Yamato and summoning her long sword. She held out the devil-arm, offering it to Lucia. “I’m relying on you.”

Lucia held the Alastor in her hands and felt it humming. She didn’t know if it was her drawing on its strength, but the giant sword seemed to weigh nothing. Lady a little back from them loaded in rockets, watching Arius screaming and shouting uncontrollably.

“YES, I FEEL HIM!” Arius yelled out snapping back to life. He began to stare at the wall, as if looking through it.

The walls, the veil and roof tore away. Everything twisted into a storm above, almost like someone had pull the stopper and the clouds were draining away. The strange spiraling fog seemed to lift, revealing a cloudy night’s sky and a beam of light going upward.

Trish, Lucia and Lady stood in what was left of Arius’s office, clearly now in the human-realm. The single beam of light blazed between the three buildings that made up Uruboros headquarters. The light traveling up into the sky, twisting the black clouds into the shape of the three faced demon. The connection to Hell was spreading ash into the sky, blocking out the stars and moon.

Arius, skin blackened, hair white and tentacles whipping, leapt off the building and slid down its side, tearing glass and metal till he crashed into the concert bellow. Trish walked to the edge of the building and looked down with a frown.

“This is bad,” she said eyes faintly glowing. “The realms are connected and Arius is drawing power directly from Argosax.”

“We can’t let Arius loose like this!” Lucia said stepping up beside her. “Where is Vergil? He can stop Argosax?”

Trish looked up at the twisting face with a grimace. She could only guess that Vergil had been pulled into Hell and would try killing Argosax himself.

“We need to keep Arius drawing power from Argosax. That will give Vergil a chance to kill that bastard,” Trish decided. “Also someone needs to take out that thing up in the sky, and seal the portal once Vergil is out.”

“Then let’s go,” Lady added shooting her grappling hook into the floor. Without hesitation, she jumped off the edge, the sound of the rope extending following her.

Lucia looked to Trish, who nodded to something behind her. Lucia turned eyes wide at the sight of Matier, walking bent with her staff and face strained.

“I’m sorry dear child,” Maiter’s haggard voice called. “I should have told you the truth years ago.”

Trish looked over the edge of the building and said “I’ll let you two talk,” before vanishing in a bolt of lightning.

Lucia’s mother came closer and sat down on some rubble taking deep breaths. Lucia turned her back, hiding her face from her.

“What are you doing here?!” Lucia yelled a mixture of emotions bubbling up. “It’s so dangerous! How did you even get up here?”

“I still have a few tricks.“ Matier smiled, but it was too force to look real.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“What truth? That you are my daughter or possess power beyond my understanding? That you were made by Arius or are the most precious thing in my life?”

“I’m… nothing is mine,” Lucia told weakly. “My hands, skin, fingernails, blood, he designed it all! I am a puppet!”

“You are my daughter,” the old woman insisted head lowered. “I remember that day I found you, a day that changed my life. You were so beautiful and innocent.”

“A demon…” Lucia dismissed. “How can a demon be innocent?”

Matier closed her eyes taking a deep breath. The memories she called up, seemed to take a toll on her. “Let me explain. My son Damian, he spied on Uruboros for years. His wife and him moved to this damned city for the mission.”

Matier reached into the bag at her side and withdrew an old letter. Her hands shook as she unfolded it and began to read.

“My dear mother, I have wonderful news. You are soon to be a grandmother to a baby girl. Jenna and I have decided on the name Lucia. We shall be moving back to Dumary as soon as possible.”

Matier took another deep breath, her face heavily lined. “He never came back. The only thing he left me, was a secret message. He’d stolen something from the company and hidden it. Some proof that Arius was experimenting with demon magic.”

Lucia heard an explosion in the distance, followed by thunder. She knew she couldn’t stay out of the battle but felt frozen in place.

“The thing he had stolen was you,” Matier told eyes dropping. “Resting in a capsule, you were so innocent and alive. I took you in and raised you, everyday knowing that one day we would have this talk. Please forgive me child, I knew you would face Arius and let you without the truth.”

The nights sky lit up, the battle raging without her. Lucia felt so broken inside, her trust broken in both others and herself. But through it, she still had those faint memories of happiness before.

“I forgive you…” Lucia told her quietly. “But it’s myself I can’t forgive. For… for being this.”

“Lucia, please listen.” Matier came over and took her daughter’s hands. “You have powers, strange and dangerous yes. But you can also protect and use them for good. They need you down there, so go use your power to save this world.”

Lucia nodded, wiping away her tears. There was so much she wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time. The mixture of hate, self-pity and despair, it all mixed into a blackness in her mind. But right now, she needed to help, needed to stop Arius, even if it killed her.

Steeling her resolve, Lucia let go of Matier’s hands and stepped to the edge of the building.

“Thank you for everything,” she said quietly and transformed into the feathered demonic form. The two stared at each other a moment, human and demon. Letting go, Lucia let herself fall off the building and spread her wings.

A tendril of light shot into the demon-realm. Vergil spiraled down it, trying to keep a sense of himself among the souls and energy of countless humans and demons. He crashed into the ground, everything blurring and spinning.

Vergil felt something pulling at him and knew something was dragging him towards its center. Whatever this was, it was feeding something larger, growing. The light that he had traveled with was pouring energy into the chaos and pumping life-force into something horrible.

Human souls and demonic flesh were being twisted into this ritual. Vergil flashed through his life, his childhood home, Fortuna, and then flashes of other people’s memories. It became hard to distinguish himself from the others. At its center of the tempest was a force that felt as dark as the emperor himself.

Opening his eyes, he felt the something pulling at his skin. Vergil’s body was sinking into blackened flesh, a pulsing wet creature of meat. He tore an arm free, reaching for escape into the empty air.

“Would you become a part of me?” a voice echoed in his head. “I can take those memories away, take those nightmares and turn them loose upon an uncaring world. Just give yourself to me.”

Summoning a sword, Vergil drove it down. The charred meat spurted loose, and he shot into the air.

Falling, he saw a mound of creatures fused together in a pit of hellish muscle tissue. Phantom, Griffon and others that he didn’t recognize were in pieces within it. The black lava rock around them was covered in a magic circle and runes. This felt similar to the seal in the Temen-ni-gru or the power of the Devil-Sword Sparda.

Around them, Vergil saw nothing for miles, only the stone, ash and fire. He knew he was in the Fire-Hell, one of the seven circles that the demon’s called home. Once known as the great Inferno, this had been a kingdom ruled by Argosax in time immemorial. But after his fall, it had been reduced to dust, a barren land without rule.

“Welcome Son of Sparda. It is the dawn of a new era with my resurrection at hand.”

“Stop wasting my time,” Vergil demanded blade forming his devil-sword.

A flaming minotaur half absorbed into the creature lunged for Vergil. He stabbed the blade into its face, blue flames spreading up it as the flesh began to absorb it further. Twisting and pulsing, Phantom’s scorpion like tail slammed down, Vergil dodging it a blur of movement. Hundreds of demons moved under the skin and flesh, moaning and trying to break free. Vergil scowled as he hacked a clawed arm off, then a tentacle.

From within there was movement, Vergil hacked at the mass, backing off. Emerging from its center, a glass egg ascended into the air. A flaming creature was moving within, countless arms, wings and tails spiraling in the transparent shell.

Cracking, the egg exploded into flame. The fire demon was shapeless as the blackened flesh below became white ash.

Vergil stood statue like as the flame came closer. At first it mimicked Vergil’s own shape, then flickered into Sparda’s demonic form, before reverting into a manikin like shape with no face. Two large wings stretched upward, forming the shape of a halo as long horns formed on its head.

Argosax’s flaming body breathed in the air, combusting and imploding back into its shape. The faceless head stared at Vergil before its voice echoed out.  “Let us speak Sparda’s son. Mundus’ war need not rage any longer.”

Hundreds of spectral swords shot into Argosax. The blades long enough to pass through its body and slam into the ground.

With his enemy pinned down Vergil fixed his hair and smirked “You stay right there.”

“I must have flesh! I shall have a kingdom! I shall be a god!” Arius cried out to the empty city. He jumped high into the air and crashed into the concrete. “Crush, blood… I need blood… human blood.”

“Quality human blood over here!” a voice called before peppering Arius with bullets. Lady dived into a nearby coffee shop as plasma sprayed the street.

“Come out little girl!” Arius laugh running at inhuman speed and crashing into the building. He continued laughing at his lack of control, like a madman.

“I’m not little,” Lady muttered as she flipped a switch. The shop exploded, glass shattering and fire spewing out.

“Bitch!!!” Arius shouted throwing off debris and standing on legs that were deformed from the explosion.

“Real distracting, aren’t I?” Lady muttered pulling a pin on a grenade.

Trish could hear Arius crying out in frustration. Around the portal going skyward, rubble orbited and was being flung out randomly. The pyramid that sat at the base was glowing with heat and the stone diamond connecting the three skyscrapers spinning wildly.

She drew the Yamato, feeling it’s volatility. It was as if the sword wanted to cut her as much as it parted the air. It felt strange to wield the weapon that never left Vergil’s side.

Crouching down, Trish touched the back of the blade and aimed up. The three faced Trismagia floated above, the beam of light gushing from its mouth. It gave no sign it could see Trish or was aware of anything at all.

Electrical sparks began snapping and sparking off the metal scrap around her. This was going to take every bit of power Trish had, but she didn’t have time for her confidence to wane.

Looking at her reflection in Vergil’s sword Trish whispered “O for a voice like thunder…”

A thunderclap rang out, her bolt of electricity shooting up and zigzagging around the beam. Trish in blinding light crashed into the three faced demon, a flash lightening up the entire city.

The Yamato pierced the forehead of the demon and in a distorted rip, it split into three again. Trish felt herself being pulled into the portal, gravity twisting and grabbing at her.

For a moment there was the city, the beam twisting and bending wildly, then there was fire. The fields of gray and flame that erupted choked her, but she did spot something under her.

Vergil stood glowing a faint blue, a flaming figure across from him. She could only see them for an instant as she spiraled, but with all her strength she threw the Yamato.

Bursting out of the portal Trish froze herself midair, glowing with energy. The three separated heads of the Trismagia floated around her, rage etched on their faces.

The portal had become red, now disconnected from the demon mages. An electrical storm was twisting the dark sky wildly, the raw power in the air causing Trish’s skin to tingle.

“Get some!” Trish cried unleashing all of her power and drawing on the storm.

Flames and ice spewed forth, but the lightning that split the sky vaporized them. Bolts flew out in all directions, striking the skyscrapers and making the city glow in a instant. Only the haggard blue face stared wide eyed. It was unaffected by the attack, electricity bouncing around it.

Trish let go, falling. She could feel the demon drawing on the storm as she had, both creatures of electricity. She knew she should try to fight back, do something, but her nerves were on fire. Electrical burns went up her arms, leaving snaking patterns all over her.

The storm flashed with life again. The burst of lightning and constant thunder signaled the coming attack. Trish felt her breath leave her, the air coming alive.

The thunder came again, and Trish jerked, a black clawed hand took ahold of her with an iron grip. Looking up she saw Lucia, a glowing white figure holding back the attack with a glowing Alastor.

“Trish, I need you to save yourself!” Lucia yelled. “I can’t hold it!”

 The Alastor’s blade deformed, glowing hot as it held the storm back. The ivory white feathers covered the black face, but Trish could see the glowing blue eyes staring at her in desperation. Giving Lucia a smile, a yellow energy flowed up Trish’s arm and to Lucia.

“Go!” Trish shouted and jerked her hand free.

Lucia only hesitated a moment before charging the last Magia in a flash of white. It blasted the storm of lightning at her, a vortex of electricity. Feathers burst into flame, the Alastor glowed white, and she was wrapped in an aura that shown like the sun. The struggle ended and like a shooting star, she slammed the blade into the demon.  

Trish fell through the air, moonlight gleaming off her leather clothes. In the half lucid state, she thought she couldn’t complain about her life. But instead of a crunch or dying in an instant, she felt herself get scooped up and softly land. Not able to move, she looked dazed at the angel like Lucia, feathers burned and out of place.

“You know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” Trish laughed weakly.

The glowing eyes seemed to have a warmth, but Lucia gave no answer. She set Trish down on the rubble gently, taking the Alastor and stabbing it into the ground next to her.

“I think I need a nap, kay?” Trish muttered and closed her eyes.

“Kay,” came her inhuman voice with a smile under the feathers.

Lucia turned to see flashes of light in the sky and a pillar of fire erupting. Arius was cursing and yelling as more explosions went off. This was soon drowned out, when the spiraling portal turned crimson and expanded.

“Oh no Matier!” Lucia cried as the portal expanded further, pulling apart the three skyscrapers and becoming a vortex of spinning glass and metal.

“I’m ok dear,” the old woman’s voice told, and she appeared from behind a ruined car. The small woman hobbled to Trish and felt her forehead.

For a moment Lucia stared at her mother in feathered form. Matier however smiled and waved her to go.

“I’ll handle Trish, get out there and make us proud.”

With only a second glance at Trish and back to her mother, Lucia kicked off and flew toward the final battle.

Chapter Text

Memories of Matier 6

My life ended the day I came to Marli. I had come to check on my son Damian, fear in my heart. I had his letter in hand, the typed words reading two different messages to me. He and his wife were expecting a baby girl Lucia, I was to be a grandmother. But my joy had been replaced with fear as the weeks dragged by with no reply.

I have never been so proud of you son. Lucia will be a lucky child, blessed with a good father and mother. The old blood of our family is renewed in her and will be our future. I look forward to your homecoming and to have you near me again.

With love Matier

My letter like his contained a hidden message for our real mission. Invisible to the unseeing eye, only he would be able to detect the second layer.

Proceed with caution, Arius is not someone to take lightly. We will need discretion to move against him.

This city is terrible.  The cold concrete and metallic maze was alive, even in the dead of night. Cars, streetlights and noise that overwhelmed me. A little old woman however wasn’t threatening and soon I had directions to the tall apartment building of countless floors.

On the sixth floor, I knocked at one of the repeating doors in the hallway. There was no difference, no distinguishing this door from the rest.

I knocked again and there was no answer. It wasn’t hard to unlock, to an outsider the little woman tried the nob, paused and then opened the door. Not that anyone noticed or cared, the city was full of people completely blind to those around them.

Many times, in my life I saw blood, but nothing broke me like this. The apartment was a mess, chairs shattered, table thrown, bookshelf collapsed and blood, so so much blood. I think I screamed, knowing what this meant. There were no bodies, no signs of forced entry, only the walls painted red. My memory was a blur from then. I know neighbors heard me and were screaming to call the police as they saw the ruin. Uruboros controlled everything, so I fled, faster than anyone expected. A lone shadow that slipped into the night and vanished.

On those streets I walked in the rain, carrying a box that I didn’t even remember taking with me. Slipping into an alley, I collapsed unable to bare the pain. How long I lay against the bricks, looking like a lost homeless person, I can’t begin to recall. Only when I looked at the box, the symbols of the Guardian clan and the magic seal does my memory start to clear. Inside was a key and instructions to a storage facility a little outside the city.

What I hoped to find, I don’t know. I didn’t care what I found. I was alone, last of my clan and having lost the only source of happiness left to me, despair was all my heart had to give. If I had just called him back, told him to abandon the old ways. We could have lived a normal life, without demons or fighting. Something I had never had a chance to have.

The storage shed slid open, revealing only one large object. Glowing in the dark, a metal box with a window of bright blue. The writing on it had countless notes.

Test 00590001, skeleton 505, property of Uruboros Labs and a large taped on note reading

Prototype, for disposal and termination. Do not open, do not activate.

Here was the proof, the thing that Damian and Jenna had spent years to obtain. From moving to this cursed city, to working warehouses and computers. All had been done to discover what Arius was.

I pressed the unit’s control panel and the capsule slid open. Liquid poured out on the floor, steam rising from it and a young woman lay motionless inside. So beautiful and innocent, like a sleeping child. When she awoke, I saw those golden eyes look at me with confusion.

That’s how I found you Lucia. Shaking and lost, no words or way to ask who I or even your self was. My life had ended, but I had my Lucia. I regret that I didn’t give you the chance to live a normal life, I made the same mistakes as with Damian. But I know in my heart you’ve done so much for the world and will keep making it a better place, long after I have passed.

The Fire Circle of Hell

Vergil moved his hand across his spectral blade, the sword glowing brighter and more solid. The tip burned brightest as it touched Argosax’s chest, distorting the flames that composed the demon. Argosax was at his mercy, stuck full of summoned blades that locked the creature in place.

 “I acknowledge you Son of Sparda.” When Argosax spoke, it’s voice echoed everywhere despite being pinned to the spot. “I have had two millennium sealed in that flesh by your father and Mundus, watching, listening to my subjects.”

“That’s a long time to fixate on hate,” Vergil smirked blade parting the flames a little deeper.

“Far too long,” Argosax agreed. “Long enough to lose myself over and over. Can any feeling really last that long? Now I would end this war and come to terms.”

Vergil raised an eyebrow, keeping the weapon in place. “Terms? Are you offering peace?”

“I seek a truce with humanity. I cannot promise to pacify all my kind, but I can punish those who disobey. I am the original king of demon kind; my power will be respected.”

“Make peace with humans?” Vergil laughed at the idea.

Argosax had no face to express and held still as a statue other than the flickering of its flames. There was no sense of intent, only a tension and presence. The countless blades piercing his body seemed to give the demon no discomfort or notice.

“And what will this peace cost?” Vergil demanded retracting his sword a little. “I imagine you want something.”

“I do,” the devil agreed. “Allow my subjects to go into the human realm, leave us in peace and allow us to prosper. We shall give up the hunt for human flesh, end this war.”

“Give up flesh?” Vergil raised an eyebrow. “What would inspire a demon to go to such lengths just to leave hell?”

Argosax turned only a moment to the ashen pile that was the fleshy mass it’d been sealed in. “In those years disembodied and listening to my kind… I heard anger, hunger, madness and the rule of Mundus. Years drowned out by thousands of voices. And then, they began to disappear. I heard Mundus’ fall and the cry for my return, the fear of the great calamity.”

“And what calamity threatens Hell itself?”

“Deep in the depths, there is a creature. Something that feeds upon our kind, a glutton with no measure. If I do not save us, all will be consumed, demon, human, light and dark. Help me save our kind,” Argosax held out the only free clawed hand to Vergil, fire cooling to a black mass. 

Vergil smirked turning away. “Intriguing, a deal with the devil. Tell you what, leave now and never return. Abandon the human realm and you can deal kind from whatever it is that hunts your kind.”

Argosax didn’t respond, his hand lowering. Vergil began to walk away. He heard no movement, but the flicker of flames.

“I will not accept this,” Argosax roared. The blades within its body shattered instantly. “If you do not make peace, I will kill you and take the human-realm by force!”

Without surprised, Vergil turned and crashed his sword against two flaming blades that had formed out of the King of Chaos’ arms. With all his strength Vergil pushed the devil back, Argosax blades sending sparks on the lava rock.

Vergil crouched, holding the blade with both hands. Argosax shot towards him like a jet. The rush of air blasted Vergil as he brought the crystallized edge down. Argosax met swords and circled, striking again from behind. The impossible speed that the two fought would have been impossible to follow.

Flipping backward, Vergil’s weapon struck the ground behind him. Argosax not seeing the rain of blade falling upon them, let out an echoing gasp.

Vergil landed and stretched his arm tiredly. “Far too easy.”

It was with some shock; he noticed a bolt of lightning strike the ground a little from him. Vergil looked up, seeing nothing but the twisting void for a sky. For a moment, he sensed a presence.

“I am impressed,” Argosax admitted and the blades holding them down shattered again. The demon stood up and pointed at Vergil with its long-bladed arm. “But your power will not be enough to stop me.”  

The Devil-Sword Vergil began to hum rapidly. Vergil held on tighter but was shocked as the weapon shattered like glass.

“I see,” Vergil muttered taking a single step back as lightning struck the ground again. “Isn’t it convenient then…” Another lightning bolt struck next to him, and he held his hand up. The Yamato came flying down and he caught it, swinging the blade out. “It isn’t just my power you have to deal with.”

“It matters not,” Argosax warned. The flaming shape lifted its blades, arms thinning, body structure shifting into that of a woman’s. With a crack, its swords had become whips. “I shall crush you.”

Dodging the first strike, Vergil closed the distance. Summoned swords blazed forth, light firing from Argosax’s wings to intercept. The battlefield lit up in a blaze of fire and light, Vergil turned and with a large arc, sent a black slash burning through the air. Argosax froze, taking the strike to their middle.

The flaming figure split into two. The two halves formed male and female figures that roared out in pain and rejoined. Shifting between genders, one arm formed a gigantic blade that shot into the ashen sky.

Effortlessly the blade came down, Vergil blocking the attack with one hand on the handle and the other on the blade to push against the fiery mass.

“Your power is finite mortal,” Argosax warned, voice raised to match its now feminine form. “You must draw upon your father’s strength to save you. Weak, insignificant creature!”

Vergil held the Yamato with one hand, transforming into his demon form and swinging out his empty hand. His glowing wings sparked with anger as rows of swords pointed behind him. Summoning the Devil-Sword, it reformed whole in his hand.

“Prepare to die!!!” Vergil cried out a blur as he focused every bit of his might into this strike. The giant blade crashed into the ground, Vergil becoming a spinning drill as he shot forth.

Argosax didn’t move, it just stood there and burst into a torrent of fire. Vergil was wrapped in flame, now as a fiery top. He reverted to human form and fell forward, the devil-sword vanishing and Yamato clashing to the ground.

Falling to his knees, Vergil looked at his human hand. It was with panic he realizing he was not the one controlling it.

The Ruins of Marli

The sound of gunfire echoed through the city. Lady counted the bullets in her head, two guns, five magazines left, with one extended clip each.

She peeked out the alleyway, seeing Arius standing next to a power grid and a statue of a gargoyle. He was scanning the city, those tentacles on his back dripping with some blue acid. His legs had split into four, making him not even walk like a human being anymore.

Popping out, Lady fired a flurry of bullets. Each shot blew a chunk out of him, the explosive tips doing their part. Arius roared in pain, flesh mending as he turned to her.

“Twenty twenty-two…” she counted between clenched teeth before hearing a snap and grind.

One of the guns had jammed. Adapting she threw it aside and ran. Arius charged using his extra appendages to grip the sides of the buildings. Lady kicked open a door, entering a wood shop and running hard to get to the front. She slid, going under a table as the wall shattered.

Arius screaming unintelligibly spewed acid everywhere. Lady holding her breath chucked a grenade, the room going white as the flashbang went off.

“Is that supposed to stop me?” Arius yelled swinging his arms wildly. “I can smell you!”

“Really?” Lady called from behind. Arius turned his head, and she sprayed a black liquid from what looked like a pepper spray can.

Arius moaned in pain covering his face, only for his hands to become stuck in the thick black tar. Lady took a step back, only for a bit of acid to splash on her arm. She let out a small cry, Arius using it to kick her with his back legs.

Flying through the glass at the front of the store, Lady slammed into a metal fence. She choked down the pain, pulling herself up. A piece of bone was sticking out of her leg, but she managed to move behind the gargoyle and into the power grid. She slid down against the machinery and wires exhausted.

“You think that would kill me?” Arius said walking towards her. His face had no skin, from ripping his hands away.

“No…” Lady whispered. “But let’s hope this does.”

 Pulling up the Kalina Ann, several wires were plugged into its back. Aiming the weapon, she fired the grappling hook into Arius’ chest. The lights of the buildings around her blazed to life, sending the entire cities power source through the creature’s body.

Arius made only a peep before shaking and contorting. His skin exploded in places, smoke bellowing out. Sparks flew around them, the streetlights exploding in all directions. Lady began to drag herself a small distance, jerking her head up as she saw Lucia land next to her, glowing white.

“That’s all I got,” Lady warned. “I don’t think he’s dead.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Lucia said drawing two blades of energy from the air. “You should get out of here.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Lady sighed pulling herself up.

Arius began to make sounds, but they were not human. The street split, an earthquake shaking the city. Lady grabbed her rocket launcher, retracting the grappling hook. She gave Lucia a nod, before firing it to pull herself to safety.

Lucia flew into the air, watching as Arius exploded with energy. She couldn’t get near as the power was unleashed in waves. The body of the former human tore open, the mouth in his middle becoming larger and larger. The power of Argosax was too much for Arius, now being warped into a new shape. The ground sank deeper, light and steam rising from within it.

The thing that climbed out of that pit was gigantic. Its skin was blackened and covered in blue tumors, the body being more like a lizard or scorpion. Spikes and talons covered it, threatening anything to touch its body, the head was a giant mouth of teeth, with what looked like Arius’ face stretched across the top. It had a long tail that whipped here and there, as purple acid dripped from pus boils on the creature.

Lucia landed high up, the creature crashing into a building and clawing its way between skyscrapers. She had no idea if this thing was killable, but she had to try. She dove off, feathers flying behind her and firing down as projectiles.

The creature cried out as she drove her blades between spikes, blue blood flying into the air. The energy blades carved away at skin, as she flipped to avoid its arms. Arius climbed up the building, twisting and spinning as its legs crashed into glass. But like a small bird defending from a hawk, Lucia kept up the attack, slicing it’s back, side and bottom.

Every strike would cut deep, but the flesh would instantly start mending. She flew into the air and dove back, driving her weapons into Arius’s stretched out human face. The demon roared with pain, the massive mouth edging on Lucia leg with a fang. Raising her hands, Lucia gathered all the energy within her and fired a great white blast down into the beast, light bursting from it in various places.  

The Son of Sparda with fiery horns on his forehead, walked slowly to the Yamato and took the handle. For a moment he smiled, a look twisted unlike Vergil’s own.

“With this…” he heard himself say. “I will unseal the Qliphoth, merge our worlds AND BE A GOD KING!!!”

“Be gone… ” Vergil strained to say. For a moment he gripped the Yamato shaking, feeling Argosax fighting with him. “I SAID BE GONE YOU RETCH!!!” Turning his father’s sword backward, Vergil slammed it down into his chest, defying the demon king within.

Fire of red and blue flew into the air. A tempest blew out the heart of the flaming Hell, leaving embers.  The white shape of Vergil was surrounded by a black veil. Something massive was spewing forth and distorting everything, but within that the human shape held.

Vergil became aware, unlike opening his eyes or waking up, he just was. Seeing a blank space around him, he thought he could hear Argosax crying out somewhere, but it seemed so distant from where Vergil was now.

His human hands were deathly pale and weightless. Wherever this was, it was easy to summarize that it was within Vergil himself.

“It is just us now.”

Vergil turned, shocked to hear and feel another presence. There before him was a dark creature of thorns and eyes. It sent chills down Vergil’s spine, first mistaking its face for his father's, then realizing it was his own.

“So, I’m talking to myself now?” Vergil asked with mockery in his voice. “Come to tell me my greatest fear? Some secret I keep locked away?”

“Fear? Secrets?” the devil asked his face never changing. “I am power absolute; I am a nameless creature of might. There is nothing else that matters.”

Vergil felt the creature grow larger, or was he growing smaller? Everything was covered in a moving light, casting shadows.

“We have enough strength now,” Vergil said as if admitting it out loud. “I wield my own power, my father’s.”

“The power of Sparda is not enough.” The shadow seemed to grow impatient. “I want my own power. My own absolution.”

“What for?” the human demanded. “So you will never have to feel like that helpless child ever again? What has power given us? It’s taken our family, our hope, leaving only a hole inside! We are alone!”

“Those memories mean nothing. I wish to crush all those who would subjugate me and have total freedom. These human emotions make us weak; those allies make us weak; you make us weak.”

Vergil balled his fist. “We’ve lost so much, forsaken too much. Do they mean nothing to you? I want power to protect not just myself!”

The devil seemed to judge him, the shadows distorting everything. A great eye opened in its chest to stare into Vergil.

“Do not forget,” the demon warned. The two met eye to eye, light and shadow becoming equals. The demon seemed to shrink down, stepping toward Vergil. “For power… we must get more power.”

“Power for ourselves,” he said.

“Power for others,” he agreed.

“And now I am awakened,” it whispered.

Argosax reformed, fire sprouting up all around them. The shock of being rejected had stunned the devil. Vergil drew the Yamato out of his chest, feeling himself stabilize.

“How dare…” Argosax roared splitting into two. The male and female demon came rushing towards Vergil with flaming blades aimed.

Vergil flicked the Yamato, his devil form taking shape behind him. He blocked the blades of the male Argosax, the devil Vergil behind wielding the Devil-Sword and cutting up through the female Argosax and shattering her whip.

Stepping back, the two fire demons seemed shocked. The female looking Argosax shook unstably, fire leaking from the cut. It was strange to Vergil as well; the image of his demon form wasn’t under his control but was acting of its own desire.

The male Argosax shot into the air, firing a rain of light down. At the same time, its female form drew up the two whips and sent them flying forward.

Vergil blocked the first whip, the second stabbing his side. Feeling the hot fire, he brought the Yamato down and cut off the whip that pierced him. The demon-Vergil blocked the bolts of light, its long sword glowing with power. Blood shot out of its side as well, but it didn’t flinch.

The two Argosax circled each other, fire roaring from their forms. Vergil held out his hand, taking both swords and the doppelganger vanished.

Moving together the male Argosax leapt on him, bringing his bladed arms down. Vergil stopped this attack, flipping over the two whips. Landing he threw the devil-sword past them and met blades again. The female Argosax moved to deal a killing strike, when the devil-sword turned back forming the doppelganger again and stabbed her through the back.

Both Argosaxs roared in pain, Vergil using the chance to bring the Yamato through the male version’s body, carving him from belly to neck.

For a moment the two Argosax stood there, flames leaking from their bodies. Then speaking at the same time, they said “And thus you doom our kind.”

With a flash Vergil summoned the Yamato’s sheath and placed the tip of the sword within it. His doppelganger stepped towards him and faded away, without a word. As the katana clicked in place, Argosax blew out. A glowing light surrounding Vergil and lighting Hell for just the briefest moment.

Lucia with all her might drew the demonic power she had, sending light coursing through Arius. For a moment, the creature roared with life and then crashed into the street. It twitched and jerked but didn’t seem to be able to stand.

“Argo… Argosax,” the small face of Arius moaned. “My power… where is my power?”

Lucia climbed up the closed mouth of teeth, her body returned to human form. She had picked up a metal pipe, spiked at one end from the damaged city. The Guardian stared down at the former human, who looked up at her pleadingly.

“Chi… it hurts,” Arius moaned.

“Lucia… my name is Lucia,” she told anger boiling hot.

“It hurts,” Arius repeated.

“You deserve it. How many people died! How many lives did you ruin?!” Lucia’s eyes filled with tears, hands shaking as she held the pointed metal.

“It hur…” Arius began, but Lucia drove the pipe down and Arius was no more.

Lucia climbed down and collapsed to her knees. She’d given it everything and she couldn’t feel her legs anymore. It all raced through her mind, the death, the ruin of her island and her people. The desire to just simply be Lucia, not the creature who was made by and killed Arius. The idea of making a life after this, either a simple human one or that of a hunter, seemed an endless nightmare. She cried, unabashedly and ugly.

“Hey Lucia, it’s alright,” Trish’s voice came. The pale arms wrapped around Lucia’s neck and held her. “I’ll tell you something. Demons, they fight, they kill and go on for a million years of pain. But something human, something rare, is tears. Devil’s never cry, not for themselves and not for others.”

Lucia buried her face in Trish’s shoulder, shaking. The two women alone in this ruined city but for Matier, who sat a little from them.

“You can move on, find a new life,” Trish comforted.  “Come with me and we’ll find something new together. Just give humanity a second chance.”

For a long while, they stayed there. Lucia didn’t speak, just let Trish comfort her. Then when they stood up, Matier gave her a long silent hug. There was nothing to say, no victory when everything was destroyed. But Lucia did have people she cared about, something to protect.

“Where is Lady?” Lucia finally spoke, she was worried about the injured hunter.

“That’s a good question,” Trish said with a shrug. “Let’s see if we can find her.”

Vergil walked to the beam of light. It lit up the fire Hell, the one path back to the human-realm for now. It could be years before he’d find another way to slip back to the normal world. But he had decided, it was time to atone for his sins. He would find Dante, or some sign of his brother and if that meant suffering this hell alone, then it was what he deserved.

He drew the Yamato, the weapon shimmering in the light of the portal. There was hesitation, but Vergil knew he had to do this.

That’s when the eerily silence was broken by the sound of a motorcycle. Out of the portal, Lady came crashing down as if she’d ramped off something. She came to a screeching halt in front of Vergil, looking around at the dull lifeless area around her.

“Well, this looks fun,” Lady said standing up. She had wrapped her leg up and a mechanical brace was supporting it. A couple large bags had been slung over the bike, full of ammo and guns she must have procured from the city. The large rocket launcher resting on the back, with what looked like another bag of military rations. “You look like crap.”

Vergil swept back his hair and took a deep breath. “You are late, I already handled everything here.”

“Guessed that when the giant monster stopped destroying the city,” Lady said rolling her eyes. “I've got business here.”

“This isn’t a place for humans, even skilled hunters. Turn around and I’ll seal the portal.”

Lady didn’t look at him, taking a moment to load one of the military grade rifles. Her mismatched eyes were full of a fury and determination that Vergil wasn’t in the mood for.

“Arkham is here somewhere,” she finally admitted looking down the sights. “If I’m right, you are here on family business too.”

Vergil grimaced, Yamato oddly heavy in his hand. “I can’t protect you here. We will be under constant threat.”

“Don’t need protection,” Lady laughed. “You either are coming with me or I’m riding off on my own.”

“Do as you wish.” Vergil’s brow was heavy as he cut the portal, sealing it.

“Good, you’re starting to learn to listen. Now get on and shut up.”

Chapter Text

It was being called a tragedy. The island of Marli was the center of attention and speculation around the world. Other countries were in a state of panic, as the two cities on the island had been found completely abandoned. The survivors who had escaped told of the company Uruboros rounding up people, in what could only be described as a genocide. Whispers came out of cover ups and monsters, but slowly the rest of the world moved on.

Trish and Lucia knew Vergil was trapped in the demon world, but had no idea where Lady had disappeared to. It was left to the two of them to protect humanity from demons that stalked the night.

Credo had vanished from the Guardians hideout, having stolen the Arcana and returned to Fortuna before they had returned. Leaving little left for the clan to protect besides their history. The lesser artifacts were packed up and moved to safe locations, Matier taking many books and scrolls with her. The old Marli had faded away, leaving the fate of the island to new hands.

Capital City

 The city was at rest, the bars were closing down and only a stray car passing by here or there. In a small building, a small red-faced man was running at full speed. He went upstairs, throwing open the door and stumbling in.

“Is this really necessary?” Sid cried falling over a set of boxes. “I didn’t harm anybody!”

Sid’s thin oily hair and scarred face made him look like a beaten hound. He was currently shaking and curling into a ball, frightened of his pursuer.

“Let’s see,” Trish called pursing her lips. She had a large handgun aimed for his head. “You are collecting artifacts to resurrect some ancient demon king. Blah blah ultimate power.”

Trish had changed her hair to a neon blue, a matching jacket with custom white lightning bolts stitched in. This contrasted Sid, who wore a worn-out white button up and pants held up by straps.

He whimpered trying to escape, but Trish’s boots stamped closer. He crashed into the wall, underneath a window and turned to stare at her. The little demons face changed into a smile as under her, a magic circle began to glow.

“Ultimate power? YES! Everyone looks down on Sid, everyone thinks I am weak. Using your body, I’ll be one step closer to gaining the powers of the demon king Abigail!” Sid raised his hands up celebrating his victory.

“What kind of name is Abigail? Like it’s a guy, right? Agrosax, Lucifer, Beelzebub, but watch out for the great demon Abigail,” Trish mocked stretching out.

“Silence and prepare to die she-demon,” Sid cursed pulling out a small revolver.

The glass shattered behind him, a slender figure rolling onto the floor and beheading the demon with a cut from two separate blades. Red hair flowing behind her, Lucia flung the blood off her weapons.

Sid’s head rolled onto the floor and with his last bit of strength whispered “Abigail…”

As the magic circle faded, Lucia turned to Trish a less than serious smile on her face.

“What kind of name is Abigail for a demon?” She asked to Trish, who burst out laughing.

“That’s what I said!"

 The Fire Circle of Hell

The flames of Hades burned eternally, but as you move away from the molten spires and lakes of bubbling lava, it became an endless ashen wasteland. The only thing that broke it up was dark withered trees and small broken huts of crude make.

Vergil’s coat had become blackened and tattered, his face and hair dusted with ash. Hell was not kind to him, but he had suffered no wounds and his eyes were bright with motivation.

“Welcome back,” came a soft voice.

There was a small campfire with two figures sitting around it. The first was Lady with her knees drawn up to her chin. She looked worse for wear, her face edged in soot, dark circles forming under her eyes. The other was a pale man, devoid of any ash. His black outfit and hair contrasting his pale skin. Despite being a demon, there was something elven like to his deep eyes and pointed ears.

The first month of travel had been easy. The two traveled far on the bike, using a few arcane tricks to fuel it without gasoline. But the tires weren’t so easy to replace. Vergil didn’t mind the walk, not enjoying the closeness and awkward ride. Lady however seemed to only increase in her agitation. They spoke very little despite being the only company to have, it was easy to see that even in a normal setting they both weren’t the most social of people.

Carrying the bag of food, while she carried one of equal size filled with weapons, they avoided fighting as much as possible. The huts sometimes contained more intelligent demons like the lizard folk or skeletal creatures. Once they had come upon a village, choosing to go miles out of their way to avoid detection. As far as Vergil knew, they should soon be coming to the entrance to another layer of Hell.

It had been much to their surprised when they had agreed to light a fire, and dark figure approached them. The stranger opened his arms to show he wasn’t armed, then introduced himself.

“I am Modeus. I had sensed a familiar presence, but I see was mistaken, I expected Sir Sparda.”

This demon who was in human shape explained he was not an enemy. Sparda had been his teacher and swordmaster. Both he and his brother had served as Sparda’s squires during the great war, fighting side by side with him. He had come hoping to see Sparda and ask his help. Lady did not take to the company well, yelling about not wanting to travel with yet another demon.

“There’s nothing nearby,” Vergil told sitting down by the fire. He had done a quick check of the area. Lady didn’t look at him, but Modeus smiled gently. Vergil opened the duffle bag and threw what looked like some snack bar to the demon.

“You are very kind to share with me,” Modeus thanked. “We should reach the Unsacred Gate tomorrow. There is a portal that can be activated with ease.”

“Sharing my food,” Lady mumbled holding a small piece of jerky.

The awkward silence went on a bit, before Modeus broke it. “Vergil would you kindly tell me of your father? Last I saw Sparda was after the fall of Argosax. Many had fallen, Mundus was the new emperor.” Modeus had an unearthliness to him, much like Trish. Lady glared at him from across the fire, unease keeping her still.

“My father spent a long time defending the human realm, teaching humanity to fight for themselves. Then he settled down with my mother and lived a simple life,” Vergil told pulling off his boot and dumping ash out of it.

“Human realm,” Modeus nodded. “I spent awhile there, hoping to see your father again. Once the realms were connected once and we traveled as we liked… Sparda severed that connection.”

“Demons came to feed on us,” Lady snarled. “Sparda knew your kind couldn’t coexist with us.”

“Perhaps not,” Modeus admitted. “But life here is hard. Humans live such an easier existence. I would never have returned if not for my brother.”

“Demon brothers… it’s always the same.” Lady moved away from the fire and moved her weapons bag to use as a pillow.”

“I came here to find my brother Dante,” Vergil admitted. “He was trapped here many years ago. I shall not know peace till I know his fate.”

“Such coincidence that I would find a mirror in the son of Sparda,” Modeus laughed a sad sound. “I seek my own brother as well. I thought he had come to slay Argosax, but I cannot find him.”

“To slay Argosax?”

“Baul and I fought to stop the chaos. Sparda sealed him away and it only seemed right that we who carry on his legacy would stop him.”

“He’s late for that,” Lady muttered grumpily. “Vergil already killed him.”

 Modeus’ eyes went wide. “You truly are your father’s son. Then your brother, do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I was retuning to our father’s home, I had hoped for a clue there.”

“Good, good, that is where I was going as well,” Modeus nodded. “It would please me if you would accompany me to the White Hill.”

“Where is that?” Vergil asked cautiously.

“In the Unsacred Gate. In our homeland there is a great hill, over looking ruins. Me, Baul, Sparda a d his brother Yojimbo swore to find the meaning of our existence and dedicate ourselves to that cause there. Perhaps we will find a clue for Dante along the way.”

“I shall come,” Vergil replied, a sadness in his voice. That place had been where Dante and Vergil had battled for the Force-Edge. “Maybe Dante will have made his way there again.”

What Vergil didn’t mention was the demon named Los. He had a horrible feeling all would be answered when he found that devil and that the violence of Mundus wasn’t finished.

“And you, young lady, why are you here?”

“To find my father,” Lady told anger flashing in her eyes. “And to put a bullet in his damn head.”

There was an awkward silence, the smile slipping from Modeus’ face. Vergil propped himself against a tree and closed his eyes, thinking of Dante, but dreaming of rain.

Capital City

Lucia sat at a round white table decked out with candles, fancy wine glasses and silverware. Her face reddened as she peaked up from her menu at Trish, who’s eyes instantly met hers.

Convincing Matier had been semi difficult. All the artifacts and weapons were locked up, but still unattended. Matier seemed melancholy as they left, worrying she wouldn’t ever return.

They had arrived at Capital City, a place of life and movement. People flooded the streets, cars honked, and lights shown bright. When Lucia had first seen it at night, the tall structures had reminded her of Marli and that had sent a chill up her spine. However, the daylit streets full of people were strangely comforting.

The last Lucia saw her mother, she was sitting in a hot tub chatting with two rather built men. The hotel Trish had paid for was top class and the two people of the old world looked out of place among the suits, dresses and luxury.

“You go ahead, I’m fine dear. I’ve got company ho ho,” Matier told as the jet hit her back. “I think this will do my old bones some good.”

 From there Trish had taken her to fancy stores and had her try on dresses. Lucia was thin but muscled, scarred and tall. So, it was weird to be girly and put on these sleek form fitting dresses. They didn’t have things in her size a lot of time, so Trish had taken her everywhere.

Lucia had ta lacy blouse on and ruffled skirt that was a little too small. Awkwardly she looked at herself in the mirror of the changing room. She sighed and began taking them off, looking over at a pair of long white boots for her to try on.

“You need help in there?” Trish called. “We’ve got three more to try!”

“Stop treating me like a princess!”

 Everything felt odd. Lucia had money, bringing over a few artifacts to sell, but Trish offered to pay every time. Hair, nails, make up. Lucia felt almost intoxicated. She liked the attention, walking the streets and hearing Trish talk fast. There were music performers who she tipped with an ancient coin from her purse. All of this leading to Trish pushing a red dress on her, which Lucia insisted on buying herself. After finally dressing her like a model, Trish moved her hands up and down, her own clothing flashing into a blue dress. Her short hair went long, with a matching blue streak in it, all the while looking completely stylized and made up. Their date had started then, going up to a fancy restaurant atop a building and sitting down together.

“So how does hunting demons pay for this kind of life?” Lucia asked looking at her bubbly glass.

“Not very well,” Trish giggled. “But I take that and after a little bit of gambling, I have more than enough.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Lucia laughed looking at the menu and not knowing the different between a croque madame or monsieur. “You will end up with nothing if your not careful.”

“But I always win,” Trish told with a wicked smile. “Besides I won against some of the richest men in the city, I’m set for a lifetime or two.”

“More like swindled,” Lucia mumbled. There was a pang of something in her mind. Both of them weren’t human, how long would she live? Was she to go on and on through the ages or might she run out of whatever Arius made her with at any moment?

The waiter came around and asked if they were ready. He batted his eyelashes at Lucia, but soon became completely enraptured by Trish. He leaned in close to take her order, watching her mouth. Looking away Lucia glanced at the other tables. At one a man was kissing up his date’s arm, at another was two old women so decorated in stones they seemed to shimmer. Lucia met eyes with one of the old women who seemed to look her over with judgement.

She felt so awkward, noting how low the dress came down in the front, how her dark skin and bright red hair stood out among them all. Lucia knew you could see the scars on her shoulders. But as the anxiety built, that’s when Lucia felt Trish’s cool touch. For just a moment she was stunned to look upon her. There was no blemish or hair out of place, a supernatural aura that made your hair stand on end.

“How are you feeling?” Trish asked. “I know a lot has happened lately.”

Lucia paused, a tear escaping. Her and Matier had a long talk about the truth, both reaffirming their love for each other as family. They had done what they could to move dangerous artifacts, savaging from their former home. Life had found a little normality and having Trish to help push her, coming here had been the only real goal.

There were a lot of unanswered questions on the nature of what Lucia was and what it meant, but the one thing that hadn’t been asked was simply what she felt.

“Oh I… well I think that this…” Lucia wiped her face giving an awkward laugh. She was so aware of her accent, that ‘this’ sounded more like ‘zis’. “I am not used to being dressed up and going to such fancy places. I hope you are having a good time, that this is what you wanted.”

“I wanted to see you dressed up,” Trish agreed with a laugh. “But I also want you to show me what ‘you’ want. It’s a date, I want to get to know you better.”

Lucia somehow turned more red, she had forgotten this was a date. What Matier would think of her dating another woman, flared in her mind. But she dared to look into that perfect face and say “I want to know about you.”

Over the course of the meal Trish told about her journeys, of the people she interacted with. She had seen the old world of castles and cities with rich histories. But she also had learned to enjoy the high class apartments, the rave bars, dancing with strangers who were mesmerized by her.

“But after a few guys and girls, I decided I wanted to be alone again. I thought about what I needed. I don’t know yet, but I know there’s only one person in the world like me. A young woman who isn’t of this world or the other.”

Lucia wished she could talk like Trish, she seemed so intelligent and open, so confident and strong. Lucia didn’t feel worthy to have Trish’s hand on hers.

“I would love to find out what I want,” Lucia admitted. “The food was so great, but I think I’d like something more casual…”

Trish smiled at that. “Let’s get out of here.”

The Unsacred Gate

The water flowed so clearly, and Vergil felt it rushing against his boots. The waterfall flowed from some unknown source far above, a constant feed of clean liquid. The floating islands that dotted this place were all arranged in a circular pattern, free falling water striking most of them. Strange ivory structures littered them, some times connecting the landmasses, other times ruins of what had been. Navigating this had been harder, but there were no demons wondering here. Modeus seemed sadly to look at places they passed with old recognition.

“Our people lived here. Sparda and Yojimbo were the twin sons of the great Ulfberht, who Argosax slew. Myself and Baul helped keep the great bellows going, as the smiths like Sparda wove great weapons.” Modeus told his history walking quietly, the light reflected in the water shimmering on him.

Lagging a little, Lady looked tired. Vergil imagined without a lead, the goal of finding Arkham somewhere in this multi-layered dimension was beginning to weigh on her.

“When the war was over, Mundus rose to power and Sparda returned here... We are almost there.”

They began going up a white slope, climbing to a place where you could look out on a vast number of islands. The bright twisting sky shimmered against the flowing water on each, before dropping into a dark crimson pit.

There at its summit, were five swords, three of them resembled the Rebellion. Two made of the same grey metal, another was a black long sword that Modeus ran his hand along the handle. Then there were the last two. One was a katana, overly long with a rippling purple pattern, leading to a handle wrapped in gold. The other looked more akin to the Force-Edge, but thinner and chipped.

“Here we took a vow,” Modeus told looking sad. “I swore to find what drove me, to never give up and protect those I love.”

“Baul swore to grow strong, to perfect his swordsmanship and to inherit the future. Yojimbo promised to live up to their father’s ideals. To perfect his craft and serve faithfully. And Sparda… he swore to find justice. To find a cause worthy of himself and fight for it with all his being.”

 Vergil looked out on his father’s home, the battle with Dante for the amulet ringing in his ears. The petty desire for power that had cost him his only family left to him.

“Power…” rumbled in the back of his mind. That devil that had no name creeped in his soul. “No one can have our power.”

“I swear to find Dante,” Vergil announced. He drew the Yamato and sliced his wrist. As blood fell upon the Proto-Edge, there was a moment of silence. “I swear it by my Father.”

 Modeus seemed to take strength from this and pulled the long sword from it’s stone. “I will find Baul and protect those I love.”

 Lady watched them, the tired darkness in her eyes deepening.

Chapter Text

The Edge of Oblivion

It had been six months. Six months without another human face, of travel, fighting and avoiding. Vergil spun the Yamato, blood spraying into the air. There were bodies piled around them, the creatures known as Nobodies were laughing and cackling as Lady fired explosive tip rounds.

With a gasp Lady was pulled into the air, a blue squid sinking its tentacles into her back. Crying out she began taking shots at Vergil, who vanished and appeared behind her, slicing the creature in two.

“FUCKING…” She began only to see Vergil pinned under four of the Soul Eaters.

A phantom devil appeared, cutting down the monsters with its long blade and then vanished. With a bang phantom swords shot off in every direction piercing the remaining Nobodies, finishing the long battle. They both collapsed onto the ground. Vergil breathed hard, his hair grown out and face covered in stubble.

Lady had tied her hair back, her sleeves torn away. Downing water, she looked at Vergil and then to her own body. They had both lost weight, both beaten and bruised. Vergil had protected her and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he had taken most the fighting upon himself.

“I think you need a break,” Lady managed.

“I need a break?” Vergil laughed, but it hurt to laugh.

“Pizza sounds nice,” Lady admitted.

“Anything sounds nice.”

“You know, I also want to find Dante. If it wasn’t for him, I’d have died in that tower. He was kind to me in his own dumb way.”

Vergil didn’t answer. There was no limit to where Dante could be, seven hells existed to demon kind. They had traveled in the red watery bottom of the Unsacred Gate, marble ruins scattered and sunk into the ground. From there, they had come to a gray field with white stalks. But where they were making for was the Flesh Hell. Modeus had left them at the hill, choosing to search elsewhere for his brother. He promised to find them if he saw Dante or Jester.  Since then, the battles had intensified. Nobodies were drawn to them in the dead lands.

After resting what could have been days, they moved. There was no night or day, only the same dull darkness. Flesh dotted the land now and they saw unnerving eyes twisting in sockets within the ground. Lady didn’t seem to handle this well, looking pale and rarely speaking.

“Dante has to be here… Mundus ruled the Flesh Hell,” Vergil spoke more to hear a voice.

“You say so,” Lady rasped.

They came to a great pit, down within it was a pile of flesh that smelled vaguely of rot. Vergil however was focused on the shape in the distance. There was a large ivory white figure that lay collapsed in the ruin.

“What is that?” She asked, but Vergil was already sliding down the side of the pit. The ground was purely flesh from here, squishing disgustingly under his feet.

The energy that coursed through him drove Vergil, breathed life into him. The husk looked pure white, hollow and cracked. The bearded face was split down the middle, three carved eyes pushed away from each other.  The ruin of Mundus had collapsed upon the land he fell, a decaying hole that was slowly sinking into the ground. Wrapped in his arms was a ruin, a collapsed building the emperor had held onto during his great fall. The building was the cathedral, collapsed between realities it had fallen into this cesspool.

There was no movement from Mundus, no sign of the living flesh that had writhed within. Only a broken and hollow statue, a Greek god cast upon the flesh and bone. Vergil put his hand upon the stone, feeling nothing. There was no sense of his father’s enemy, no overwhelming aura.

Lady followed silently, looking from the squishy red ground to the gigantic ruin. Her eyes were wide, the stress of the months in this place and mindless horror painting her face. Vergil slammed his fist, shattering more stone and looked to the cathedral. There was the swirling portal, a road between the layers of reality. He wasn’t sure where it went, Mallet Island was a flat rock in the ocean now, but he also knew Lady was at her limit. Vergil only had to question, was he at his?

“It’s time you go home,” Vergil said, his voice a rasp. “Finding Arkham in this place is impossible.”

“He needs my blood to escape!” Lady told trying to yell. “He is here somewhere!!”

“Then damn him to this place!” now his voice had returned. “Go live a life and die a normal death. He’ll be trapped here forever!”

“And let him live? To go on and on? His immortality a reward for killing my mother?”

Vergil scowled and drew the Yamato, he stepped up to the portal and looked into it. He had to decide, and there was no time. Stay here or force her to leave, it all had to happen now before this ruin sunk deeper into the flesh pit and was lost forever.

“Send her away or kill her. She is making you weak,” came the voice within.

“You have a chance at a normal life,” Vergil told quietly. He felt anger rising, not at her but at his other half. “Arkham isn’t your sin.”

“He’s my…” Lady began but drew up her pistol.

 A demon wreathed in fire was walking towards them, the flesh it walked on cracking and blistering with heat. It was at least twelve feet, with twisting horns from its head, back and shoulders. It had no eyes in its face, but in its hands. The rocky stone breathed out fire, an internal inferno cracking within.

“Enemy of mine, son of the traitor…” it’s deep voice echoed. “I have found you at long last. Give me the power of Argosax, of the FLAMING KING!!!”

“And you are?” Vergil asked pointing his weapon at the demon. His eyes narrowed, watching for any sign of an attack.

“I am the new King of Hell Balrog. Former lieutenant of Argosax, possessor of all the power from the fire and the one who will slay you!”

“Stay back,” Vergil warned to Lady and stepped forward. The two circled each other a moment, blood boiling under the foot of Balrog.

The movement was insanely fast. Balrog shot forward and brought his fist down, a mist of blood spraying up. Vergil side stepped it and stabbed his blade into Balrog’s side, the Yamato lighting up red with heat. Reacting to the pain, Balrog spun, his leg coming up nimbly and grazing Vergil’s long hair. The sheath of the Yamato smacked across the demon’s face, flames dancing around them. Balrog roared in fury, more kicks flying through the air. Nothing was able to connect, but the flames were growing hotter and hotter as the demon attacked. Vergil flipped back, his jacket covered in flames, as he tossed it aside.

There should have been rows of summoned swords blistering down upon the devil, but Vergil felt his powers weaken. Something within him was resisting, and as he drew himself up for the first time in so many years he couldn’t draw upon his demonic power.

“Kill the girl, rid us of this weakness!” roared within Vergil’s mind.

Balrog kicked off the ground, a summersault turning into an ax-kick. The Yamato blocked the attack, flames creating a thick barrier to protect the demon’s leg. Sliding to the side, Vergil’s hand was wrapped in a dark fire. The flames extended into a long blade with wing like patterns coming from his hand and elbow. The great sword cut through Balrog’s own fire and carved him in half.

“THE POWER OF… ARGOSAX?” it cried in pain.

Vergil closed his hand and picked up his sheath before returning the Yamato almost completely. “When the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears.” It looked like he hadn’t moved, but the blade reemerged and slid back, now clicking into place. Balrog let out one last cry before bursting into flame.

Central City

Lucia felt the night air blow against her. It was a cool night, almost uncomfortable. Trish was with her, both dressed casually and smiling.

There was still no sign of Vergil. Trish often worried about him, but life had been good to them. Matier was enjoying retirement, the small house her and Lucia shared was a nice quiet place. When she wasn’t out on a mission, Lucia helped her with the records of the clan or the flower garden the old woman had come to love.

“My life was dedicated to protecting humanity. This is nice to swing outside and forget.”

The neighbors had a bunch of kids and Lucia had asked their parents if they could check in on her mother when she was away. The children seemed to bring life to the old woman’s eyes.

Trish mounted a motorbike and Lucia got on behind her. It felt so nice to have herself wrapped around Trish, no hesitating or rejection.

The missions however were fun. Trish was always so elegant but also happy. True maybe busting into an apartment with a bunch of demons crawling on the walls would be traumatizing for most, but the night drives, the random hotels in different cities. Trish lived up their down time, going to restaurants, dancing in gardens, going to concerts and bars. Lucia had felt so overwhelmed by the flashing lights, booming music and people moving.

Covered in glowing bracelets and holding drinks they stepped out to be ambushed by skeletons. It had ended with Trish throwing up from the dance of death, all those drinks in her stomach becoming the new enemy.

After helping Trish sit down, Lucia tried to spray paint a picture of the demon on the wall, only for it to look so childish Lucia couldn’t help but laugh.

“We going back to my place?” Trish asked a wave of her hand cleaning herself up. “I’ve got something I’d like you to try on.”

Lucia got on the bike this time, much to Trish’s drunken disappointment. “Why would you buy clothing if you can magic them?”

Trish hugged her back and leaned in. “Because I want to see you in some lace.”

The Flesh Hell

Balrog was split asunder, fire spewing everywhere. It licked at Vergil’s clothes and lit up Lady’s eyes.

Lowering his guard. Vergil looked to the portal. The moment to decide was now. The flesh they stood on was withering in pain from the fire, who knew if it might move or retract.

“This isn’t a place for mortals,” Vergil told dry and serious. “If we stay here much longer, it will break us.”

“I’m not leaving!” Lady yelled, hand gripping her pistol. “I can’t leave till he pays! Till I find that Jester and snuff out what is left of that damn man’s life!”

“I’m not asking you if you want to stay,” Vergil warned. “This is the end of the line. Where would you go next? The Ice Hell? Into darkness where light is a beacon to attack? How many horrors can you take?”

“It doesn’t matter I…” but Lady couldn’t finish that sentence.

From within Balrog flaming soul, three shapes emerged. First was the demon himself, then a creature with four arms and two heads. It was made of fire and loaded three arrows into two bows. Vergil turned but the third shape took form, a minotaur of flame and brimstone. The first two arrows were blocked effortlessly, but Vergil slammed into the ground, a long broadsword in his chest.

“Die traitor!!” Roared the shape of Berial.

The three demons snapped back together, Balrog glowing with fury and rage.

“Jester? He’s been looking for you,” Balrog told walking closer to Lady. “Perhaps I’ll not eat your flesh and bring you to him with out those slender limbs.”

Lady lay upon the ground, three flaming arrows lodged in her. She’d been struck in the right arm, hip and shoulder. In pain she pulled at the bolts, theb reached back. Balrog’s massive hand came closer, Lady tossing a grenade into the palm.

“Let’s see if there is a hell for people already in it!” she shouted.

The fingers closed and the explosion went off. Chunks of gore shot into the air as Lady felt herself flying past it. Pain was searing her right side, her blood flowing out. There was Vergil, carrying her with one arm. But that was it, he had only one arm.

Balrog roared in pain, the explosion imploding on its body. A blueish demon leapt into the air and slammed down the Devil-Sword into its enemy.

Vergil set Lady down on the stone by the portal. Her eyes were glazed over, blood flowing out of her. With his one hand, the fire of Argosax cauterized the wound. Picking up the Kalina Ann, Vergil opened it and slid a purple star shaped crystal into it.

During their travels Vergil had come upon a crystalized demon magic stone. While known to restore power to those who could wield it, he was going to focus it into this shot.

As the phantom demon fought with Balrog, Vergil took aim and fired. Both figures were caught in a massive explosion that spewed magical energy everywhere.

“We were to save Hell itself!” Balrog cried splitting into three warped shapes. “To combine the power of the Fire Hell into one!”

It dropped a metal spike upon the ground. “We… we… were the last hope against Los…”

Vergil’s missing arm was wrapped in blue tendrils. Even a wound like this could be restored with enough power.

“You failure,” boomed from the fire. The demon form of Vergil wrapped in the flames watched him. “I will no longer share my power with such a wretch.”

 The missing arm had healed, but Vergil had no time. He took the Yamato and sliced open the portal, tearing reality to control where he might end up.

As the portal turned from a wild mess of colors to a deep blue, he sighed and sheathed. From the dimmed fire he picked up a spike, the tool that Balrog had fused those three demons into himself with. There was no doubt, it was a fragment of the Rebellion.

As Vergil returned to Lady she held a hand out to him. At first he thought she meant him to pull her up, but now he could tell she wasn’t fully conscious.

“Dante,” she muttered as he lifted her. “Dante he told me what happened. That you are just like me, they took her from you.”

“Rest now,” Vergil told carrying her to the portal. He knew she needed medical treatment or she still wouldn’t last long.

“We’re the same…”

As they stepped through, Vergil felt hard concrete at his feet. He was back in his home, in the bunker like storage facility he kept all the demonic artifacts.

There was no time to lose, Lady’s life was slipping away. But for just that second he froze, the cases, the shelves and weapons were gone. His eyes moved up to the vault, which had been burned open. The Devil-Sword Sparda was gone.

The Inner Sanctum Of Fortuna

“You have proven yourself steadfast, even in these difficult times Credo. The Order places its full trust in you, its shield to defend our people. Thanks to your efforts we have the holy sword of the savior. These past three years have proven your commitment.”

“Thank you, your Holiness. I will continue to dedicate my mind, body and soul to serving.”

Credo went to one knee, his hair, suit and sword all neatly in order. The glowing lights contrasted the marble and ivory around him, casting a eerie devilish red on the sanctity of the white.

“Your family has gone to join the choir of heaven. But I know they are proud of you and your sister.”

“Now about your adoptive brother...”

“Nero?” Credo’s face lit up with concern, the first break in his composure.

“We are worried about the boy. He is a loner, speaking against his elders with a rebellious attitude permeating him.”

“He has a good heart,” Credo spoke up. “When we took him in, there was a darkness. But I assure you, there is no better demon hunter among my men.”

“He has not always been worthy of your parents.”

“The gossip about his mother and his early life on the street left a chip on his shoulder. My parents were hard on him, but Kyrie brings out his real heart. I promise he will make a fine knight, worthy to serve Sparda.”

“The attack might make him unstable. He killed the demons that attacked your family’s home,  trauma runs deep in him.”

“He will overcome it,” Credo assured. “Kyrie and I won’t let him fall to darkness.”

“You will take responsibility for him?”

“Of course, he is my brother.”

The Depths of the Demon Realm

 Modeus moved like a shadow. Here there was no light, but his inhuman eyes could see. Blind and pale creatures moved paying him no mind. The ground was covered in blue grass and small glowing flowers were the only real source of light.

He had to travel deep into that darkness to find it. There from the endless darkness, above the cravens and stalactites was the top of the Qliphoth. The demon tree had been sealed, preventing it from growing back through the realms and to encompass all.

For a moment it was peaceful, small petals falling upon the ground. Then he spotted it, two blades that matched Modeus’ own weapon.

“Baul!!! Bauuul!!!! Where are you??!” He called into the darkness.

It was here Modeus noticed the smell. Something was rotten, bloated and wretched. He spun and saw the thing in that darkness.

Three glowing red eyes stared at him with an unknown fury. As it came closer Modeus thought he could see the skinless face of Mundus. He drew up his long sword, ready to fight his master’s enemy. But then, there was more to it.

Mundus face wasn’t as he remembered. The shape of the jaw, the horns, there was something akin to Sparda’s likeness. Then stretching away from it a clearer picture came into view. This giant bloated, puss dripped creature with boils all of its body. It had countless eyes and hands reaching out as if behind a thin layer of skin. This was not one creature, but many, if not most of Hell fused into one horrific monstrosity.

The City Of Fortuna

Bandages were no good; it glowed through them and it couldn’t hide the clawed fingers. The small room had little more than a bed, dresser, closet of clothes and a CD player on the nightstand. The young man sitting on the bed seemed bathed in blue glow.

Nero unbandaged his arm, scowling and cursing under his breath. There wasn’t a lot of time and he didn’t want to miss Kyrie’s moment.

The thick leather glove was uncomfortable and awkwardly Nero slung his arm into the brace sling. Tightening his fingers, that voiced haunted him from the dark.

Power… give me more power.

Chapter Text

Devil May Cry 4

Everyone was gathered in Fortune to celebrate the Savior. Long ago God had chosen a champion to defend us, a warrior of darkness that had risen from the very pits of Hell. Against all odds the champion rose to face the devil himself and ascended to the heavenly court.

Kyrie, whom had been blessed with the voice of an angel was in front of everyone, light shining down upon her. It was her moment, the moment she had practiced so hard for.

A white-haired young man was running down the street, his arm in a sling. What he hadn’t noticed yet, was the shadows that lurked around the corner and the faint rustle of insects.

He wore a long blue coat and red vest, the symbol of The Order on his shoulder. The kid was pushing himself to run as fast as he could, to his very limit.

“Listen to my voice, calling you. Calling you out of darkness.”

Ahead of him, strange baggy scarecrow like creatures stumbled into his path, mismatched pegs and blades for limbs. These scarecrows were filled with little demonic insects, all writhing together to puppet their home. As they came to a stop, the bag shook with countless bugs within.

“Hear the Devil's cry of sin, always turn your back on him.”

The youth leapt onto one and off onto another, tearing a bladed leg from it as he went. He had no trouble dispatching each without a sense of worry or real objective other than to get where he was going. He didn’t have time for this, he had to see her.

Nero made no movement that was unnecessary. The young man going from demon to demon as he cut a path. The sharpened blade cut through the creatures with ease, black spraying out and evaporating in the sunlight. When the demons couldn’t hold onto their form they popped like a balloon, covering the walls with blood and insects.

“With the wind you go. Still, I dream of your spirit, leading you back home.”

The Chapel itself was ornate; everyone in their hooded robes or dresses. The seats were all facing the raised podium where Kyrie was singing. Behind her the giant statue of Sparda stood looming over them. A horned man with his hands resting atop of his massive sword.

“I will give my gifts to you. Grow your garden, watch it bloom.”

Credo watched Nero slip in, wondering where and what trouble Nero had gotten up to. He was disappointed that the boy would be late for Kyrie’s song and angry that his guards had just let the boy slip in. He looked at Sanctus, Vicar of Sparda. The old man looked so peaceful as he listened to Kyrie and that filled Credo with pride.

Kyrie finished, looking at Nero who smiled at her in response. She shyly returned it and stepped down to everyone’s applause. Passing by Sanctus, he gave her a kiss on the cheek as he took the podium.

“Two thousand years ago, The Demon Knight Sparda turned against his brethren and took up his sword for mankind.”

Sanctus, the vicar of Sparda was an extremely old man. He was hunched and deeply lined with age, but he insisted on leading the service today. Dressed in white robes, tassels, ornaments and a tall hat. To say his holiness looked the part would be an understatement.

“Though despite his brave efforts in our name, I fear some have forgotten the truth of that great sacrifice.”

Nero stretched out looking impatient. Sanctus’ eyes seemed to move to him as the word ‘some’ echoed. Off to the side, he felt Credo was also watching him. To his relief Kyrie came to sit next to him, though Nero pretended to be into his music now, headphones hiding his ears. She saw a small gift box in her seat and Kyrie face went a little red.

“Let us pray…”

Everyone bowed their heads, except for Nero. He could see the others looking at him from the corner of his eyes, judging him. The organ was playing somewhere, and Nero just wanted to get out, be anywhere but here. That’s when he felt it, an aura of something powerful. His gloved hand began to glow, and he quickly hid it underneath his jacket.

A dark figure walked slowly from behind one of the pillars. Wearing black with white hair much like Nero’s this man was putting off that overwhelming aura. Under the long black coat glimpses of a blue lining could be seen and his hair had been gelled back, the tips reaching his shoulders.  

Instantly the guards turned, not sure how this person had gotten past them. Drawing their swords, they froze as they approached the dark silhouette, some dropping their weapons, all shaking violently. Even from the seats, Nero could feel that intent to kill.

“To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love

All pray in their distress;

And to these virtues of delight

Return their thankfulness.”

The man seemed to be quoting something as he stared into Sanctus’ eyes. Everyone was frozen except for Credo who called out “VERGIL STOP!”

“To be graced with the appearance of the son of Sparda,” Sanctus said quietly and gave a soft smile. “It pleases me to see you again Vergil.”

Though they had not heard those words, the crowd was completely silent as Vergil barely an arm’s length from Credo with his long sword drawn.

Moving blindingly fast, Vergil suddenly was wielding his sword and drew it. Holding the weapon in a reverse grip he stabbed the old man through the heart. Sanctus exhaled sharply and grabbed the blade, looking horrified.

Credo and Kyrie cried out as the crowd went mad in panic. A splatter of blood hit the pews and Vergil swung the Yamato outward and sheathed it. The guards, broken from their spell charged up the platform, weapons raised. Credo took a swing at Vergil but was caught by a transparent sword from above, piercing his shoulder and forcing him to the floor.

“Return what you have stolen!” Vergil shouted to the room, turning his back on the holy man. The stained glass shattered above, phantom swords raining down upon the guards and Credo. Most looked like pin cushions of glowing swords, blood running down their armor.

More guards charged towards Vergil, fighting the crowds to get to him. Drawing his katana everything was engulfed in light, Vergil dropping to one knee and sheathing the Yamato slowly. The knights on all sides were cut into countless pieces as the weapon clicked in place. Long slashes trailed across the marbled floor and painted walls.

“Foolishness…” Vergil muttered and disappeared.

Credo bleeding violently, crawled to Sanctus. He grabbed the old man and cried out; his eyes filled with tears as he held him.

Everyone was running in panic, people pushing violently to escape the one-man massacre. Kyrie fell aside, Nero reaching out for her as his gift sliding under a bench.  She crouched to retrieve it, but Nero grabbed her arm, trying to get her to safety.

But as fast as Nero held her, his grip was broken by a knight falling between them. Kyrie screamed and toppled forward, landing in front of a dark figure.

Vergil glanced at her only a moment before he turned and stabbed the katana through one of the guards. From the stabbed knight a shadow shot out, screaming in pain as it evaporated in the sunlight.

She looked up terrified as the Son of Sparda flicked the blood off his weapon. Vergil cold face unchanging as he dispatched his foes.

Vergil didn’t know what hit him. Nero had thrown himself into the air, drop-kicking Vergil in the face. Righting himself Vergil slammed the Yamato into the ground and flipped back onto the statue of Sparda. His dark figure almost looked like a bat as he landed.

Nero walked towards him, drawing a large revolver with a rose engraved on it. Vergil stared down from atop the image of his father, watched the young man with only the faintest surprise.

“NERO!!” Kyrie cried out.

“Kyrie, go with your brother and get out of here!” Nero ordered, never moving his eyes away from Vergil.

“I will return with help; you stall him till then!!” Credo yelled out grabbing Kyrie’s arm.

Nero flicked off his headphones and commented “I won’t hold my breath.”

Leaping onto the other shoulder, Nero took a few shots at Vergil. The older man spun his sword and expertly laid the bullets out on the statue’s sleeve. Nero wasn’t sure if it was a look of curiosity or amusement, but it only made him angrier. Pulling the trigger as a distraction, Nero threw a kick at him and dodged back as the Yamato came down. The statue of Sparda split asunder with a loud crack, as Nero’s boot slid on the polished marble floor below.

“Such vigor, I commend the effort.” Vergil walked the church like he owned the place, calmly looking back at the statue of his father.

The tone and the fact Nero hadn’t seen him leap off the statue pissed Nero off more.  He looked around, seeing they were alone now and took his gloved hand out of the sling. This was getting serious, and he wasn’t sure he could beat this guy.

“Aren’t you the big shot… I been knocking guys like you down my whole life!” Nero shouted kicking a piece of a broken bench at his enemy. Vergil faded away, now only an image of where he had been.

“And I like punishing loud mouths like you.”

Nero grabbed up a sword from a dead body and slung it around to face Vergil. Planting the swords tip into the floor he revved the handle, flames and exhaust bursting from it as the sword came alive.  

Vergil raised an eyebrow at this, then gave the faintest “Hmp…”

Nero let out a yell and charged wildly, Vergil sliding back from the force of Nero’s attack as the blades met. However, Vergil had only drawn a quarter of the blade from its sheath.

“Are you just going to keep playing or am I going to have to draw it for you!” Nero demanded, his sword cracking with fire.

A tornado of flaming attacks, Nero whipped the blade through the air. Each attack was parried without drawing even half of the blade, Vergil making this look easy.

“My turn,” Vergil said almost as a warning.

He drew and the Yamato cut clean through Nero’s sword, the mechanics exploding as a bright light burst forth from Nero. Blinded Vergil felt the sword catch. Something was holding onto the demonic blade.

As the light dispersed, Vergil could see Nero’s true right hand. It was a red and blue glowing claw of demonic flesh, the fingers holding the Yamato, blood dripping from them. But what was even more shocking was the second, a glowing phantom version coming from just behind Nero’s shoulder. This larger glowing hand, held onto the Yamato as well and prevented Vergil from pulling it back.

“So, they would use another half-breed against me… who are you…” Vergil asked in a growling surprise.

“Fuck you, that’s who!” Nero shouted shoving the weapon’s handle into Vergil’s chest.

Stumbling back, Vergil winced as Nero, used the phantom arm to grab his revolver off the ground. He fired and Vergil snapped his hand up, catching the bullets.

Nero reached back, the phantom grabbing the statue’s giant stone sword. With all his strength, he pulled it away and threw it hard, adding “CATCH THIS!!” as the weapon flew at Vergil.

Flicking the Yamato up and back into it’s saya, Vergil split the stone sword in half. But what he hadn’t seen was Nero. Leaping down, throwing punch after punch with his demonic limb and the ghost of it, the raw violence shook the son of Sparda. Vergil was slammed against a pillar, covering his face as blow after blow slammed him into the marble.

Finally, as the pillar cracked from the force of it, Vergil cried out “Enough!!”

Bursting with power, a glowing figure held Nero’s disembodied arm as Vergil held the real thing. There was something akin to the demonic image of Vergil and the phantom limb. The Yamato went high preparing to slice Nero’s inhuman hand clean off; the white-haired youth unable to pull away. The immense energy whipped around them, cracking violently as both man and devil held Nero.

“You wield the power of Sparda…” the glowing demon said looking surprised.

“He… what?” Vergil asked, looking at his demon half, and hesitating to strike.  

 Nero used this opening to tear himself free as Vergil’s demon vanished in a burst of blue fire. The young man had to hit the floor as Vergil swung the his sword and sent a huge wave of force at him.

A glowing portal had been ripped into space and time, Vergil sheathing the weapon and stepping through it. As it closed, those cold eyes glanced back at Nero with unknown emotion.

Chapter Text

Credo walked the chapel, watching his men remove the bodies and rubble. His expression was intense and his voice bitter as he yelled another order at them. The chapel had been locked down by Credo’s personal guard. No one was to enter except those present now.

A little from them, Sanctus’ body had been covered in a white sheet and raised on a palanquin. The hooded bearers bowed their heads as they carried the corpse away, the air still and sullen.

Nero had slipped his arm back in its sling and pulled down his sleeve as he tried to hide the demonic arm that thankfully had stopped glowing.

Kyrie was dragging a large case into the hall. It was black with the symbol of the order in red. The gigantic case looked like it had to weigh more than her, but Kyrie struggled to Nero.

“You brought this here for me?” Nero asked, perking up and taking it from her.

“Credo requested,” Kyrie nodded. “She yearns for your touch.”

If that was flirting Nero did not notice, he opened it and smiled a large enthusiastic grin, like a child receiving a new toy.

“Thanks! This blade is the best battle companion a swordsman could wish for!” Nero said failing to notice her disappointment.

Nero set to putting together his weapon, pieces fitting just right, tightening, and screwing as the blade’s mechanical engine slid into place. Kyrie walked away from him and noticed the box that had been in her seat still intact under one of the broken pews. She smiled realizing Nero’s gift wasn’t damaged.

More bodies were being carried out as Nero lifted the large sword and gave it a few test swings. He couldn’t help but notice a hand slip out from under a white sheet, revealing a blackened claw.

“So, who is this guy?” Nero asked test revving the Red-Queen. “What’s his name?”

“Vergil,” Credo said pacing. “I’ve met him before on a mission, as an ally. He had been rumored to have disappeared into Hell itself. But clearly, he’s back and something changed.”

“Clearly he’s an asshole,” Nero said and gave a laugh. “I’ll just beat some sense into him.”

“Language Nero, this is a holy place. Show some respect!” Credo scolded. His anger passed quickly, stress lining his face. “He is responsible for the incident with the Temen-ni-gru, so this violence isn’t new. He’s been spotted heading towards Fortuna Castle, he can travel very quickly. Vergil’s dangerous and I need you to bring him in alive.”

“Alive? Nero smiled. “I can work with that.”

Nero turned to Kyrie who was wearing a gold necklace with a red jewel, she was beaming. There was a moment of awkwardness as Nero looked away shyly, glad she liked the gift.

Kyrie reached out, touching his back softly. “Nero your arm isn’t fully healed yet.” Kyrie held onto him, but Nero pulled away. “We still don’t know what’s wrong with it.’

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me,” Nero said, but in his mind, he was thinking ‘I need this, if I’m going to have a chance’.

A few days ago, Nero had been attacked just outside town at their family’s home. He’d been outside with Kyrie when the demons appeared. His adoptive parents were killed first, other nearby families fleeing their homes.

As he fought off the monsters, more just kept coming. Nero was one of the best devil hunters in the Order, but he was only human.

Taking out demon, after demon until he was covered in both their and his own blood, Nero gasped for air. It was then that he had heard Kyrie scream, a horned demon with ashen skin diving for her with a sword of the order in hand.

In an instant Nero leapt in the way, his own sword meeting hardened skin and the demon’s blade piercing through his right hand. They slammed into tree, pinning Nero in place as more grabbed at Kyrie. Nero knew he had to protect the one he loved above all else, one of the few who had treated him like a normal person.

In the present he glanced at Kyrie who was whispering to Credo about ‘Pushing him too hard’.

Nero’s adopted parents treated him like the troubled kid he had been. They were stern and condescending, tough love. He’d been on the streets before, being mocked and told that his mother was a harlet. It had been a kindness he was taken in, clothed, and schooled. All this left Nero with a chip on his shoulder and an attitude.  

Credo treated Nero like a brother but was just another authoritative figure he didn’t want. Kyrie, however, had always been kind, always had compassion.

In that moment when the demon held him, when he lost feeling in his hand and dropped his sword, he heard it.  A voice, deep inside. Like his own, but not. It called for power, demanding it. That was when something snapped inside, something inhuman.

The glowing, redish hand that Nero kept hidden had given him the strength to save Kyrie, to kill the demons. And now it would stop Vergil.

Nero slid the sword across his back, ready for round two.

“I need to report back to headquarters,” Credo said motioning his men outside. Together he, Nero and Kyrie stepped out into the courtyard as the ground began to shake.

Kyrie grabbed onto Nero, the old chapel moaning as the tremor shook it. There was screaming and a crowd beginning to run in every direction. The demon infested scarecrows from earlier flopped and stumbled after the innocents, sometimes catching one and tearing into them. It was horrific as they used the mass of insects inside to push the blade down into their victims.

Credo yelled to his men for help with evacuation; Kyrie gasping as the fountain in the center filled with blood.

“Is this his work?” Nero asked, his anger rising and revving his blade to life.

“I… I’m not sure...” Credo muttered.

“Get Kyrie out of here. I’ll handle this.” Nero swung the flaming blade not only cutting into the bags but igniting the bugs inside. He became like a tornado of blazing strikes, a wall of flame that tore into the demons. They didn’t have the sense to dodge the incoming attacks or the reaction speed.

“Be careful! Vergil might have opened one of the Hell-Gates!” Credo warned somehow still sounding like he was scolding Nero. He put a hand on Kyrie’s shoulder and added “Have faith in him.”

Nero slipped between two blades, having to change his attack to avoid another hooded civilian. “Whoa there,” he called and planted a boot down, crushing untold numbers of little demons inside it.

Kyrie watched Nero go, Credo’s hand still firm on her shoulder. “We can take the tram to safety,” Credo told her. “But we have to go now.”

Fortuna was on fire, demons running wild in the streets. Cars and trucks were piled on the main roads with bodies everywhere. The scarecrows danced as one vehicle exploded, strange voices laughing from within.

Nero himself was moving above, using balconies and roofs to quickly traverse towards Fortuna Castle. Sometimes he would see the Order’s knights protecting a building or catch glimpses of people barricaded inside. Tightening his jaw, Nero slid down a ramp and bashed a demon in the head with a fiery strike.

The creatures piled up to block his path, an old iron fence keeping an even larger number behind it. Nero sighed and looked up, seeing a spire atop a domed ornate building. Leaning back, he leapt up and extended his demonic arm. The phantom arm behind him grabbed the pole and pulled him up, before he slid down and hopped onto a new path.

The docks were coming up and from there Nero knew he could take the tunnel to the castle. There was just one thing bothering him. It was summer, but the air was getting so cold he thought he could see his breath.

Turning back, Nero saw how far he had covered in such a short period of time and hoped his family would be alright. Credo was strong, and just like he had told Kyrie, Nero knew he needed to have faith in them.

Behind the large cathedral where Nero had started, he could see an even larger black slab of marble. He’d been taught it was the Hell-gate that Sparda had used to seal away all portals to Hell. Much like the Temen-ni-gru, it had been used by humans trying to steal the power of devils and unleashed death upon mankind. Not that Nero really was sure Sparda ever really existed.

As he set off, Nero thought of Vergil. He didn’t like how they looked similar, or how Vergil’s own phantom had reacted to him. But Nero’s questions would get answers when he beat it out of him.

Atop a cliff that was covered in snow, everything looked so different from Fortuna. Vergil looked down on an ancient castle, wondering what magic was causing this weather.

The castle’s spires went high into the sky amidst the sunset, a whirlwind of snow blasting it. The dark castle was glowing with artificial light and drawing in it’s large bridges for protection.

Vergil closed his eyes, the cold wind nipping at his face. He was wearing two metal gauntlets now, glowing with red energy, spiked gears, exhaust, and a drill like piston that was retracted to his elbow. On his feet two matching grieves were buried in snow. This devil arm named the Gilgamesh was one artifact that The Order had used for their experiments, now claimed by Vergil.

The multiple feet of snow seemed to be disturbed, a lizard demon with blades of ice leaping out to pounce at Vergil. Side stepping the attack, Vergil landed a rocket powered kick into the Frost’s head and sent it flying.

As the demon regained its senses and stood up, Vergil was on it. He threw a flaming punch that stopped inches in front of the creature’s face. The gloved hand opened, the fingers almost touching it, as the demon let out a cool hiss, almost a question.

Slamming his foot down, Vergil tightened and landed a punch without hardly moving his arm. The strike with just under an inch of space shattered the ice off the demon, the piston shooting forward and sending a steaming spike into the brain of the creature.

“I heard you were back in town,” came a smooth voice. “I didn’t expect to find you practicing karate.”

Vergil turned and his face softened seeing Trish. Her hair was a mixture of blonde and blue, long and strangely wild looking now. She was wearing black, her normal amount of exposed skin unphased by the bitter cold.  

“You look well,” Vergil added and stretched his arm. “I’m flattered you came all the way here to see me.”

Trish gave him a hug and looked Vergil in the eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Hell will do that,” Vergil smirked. “Word travels fast if you found me already.”

“Lucia wasn’t happy when I told her I was leaving for Fortuna, but I had to check on you.”

“I’ll live,” Vergil said looking back at the castle. “I didn’t find him… or any sign of Mundus. Only rumors of a new demon named Los.”

“I see,” Trish took a deep breath, worry clear in her face. “Even you could have been lost in that place. What would the human realm do without you?”

“They have you and the Marli girl,” Vergil told her. “More so, I leave for a short while and I find thieves have been playing with my toys.”

“They stole the Sparda huh?” she asked but sounded like she knew.

“There’s more… they are clearly planning something big.” Trish seemed to think this over, looking at the ancient structure. Vergil’s mouth tightened, now avoiding her gaze. “They have a boy with Sparda’s blood.”

“Sparda?” Trish said in shock. “How? Mundus only knew of the two of you.”

“My father had long enough time to have had multiple wives…” he told, but Vergil seemed to be struggling with something else.

“But what are you not telling me?” Trish asked, coming a few steps closer. “You told me you have been to Fortuna before. You didn’t know of your kin here?”

Vergil scrawled and through his teeth began to explain.

The air was growing colder as Nero climbed out of the old tunnels. He knew ahead was a small mining village that sat on the road between Fortuna and the old castle. As the name slipped his mind, Nero saw fire light ahead.

The wooden buildings had a few scattered embers, and the ground was missing of any plant life. There were scorch marks and the smell of sulfur. Another feature that wasn’t here last time Nero had come by, was what looked like a miniature Hell-Gate. This was not even half the size of the other and by the look of it, someone cut a large gash down its center.

“HE DESTROYED IT?!” cried out a high-pitched voice. It echoed between the old wooden buildings and off the rocks around them.

Nero's arm pulsed as he got closer, snow falling unseasonably here.

“This is fine, this is fine,” came the voice softer this time. “I is safe now.”

The demon was a small Imp, with large ears and a pointed tail. It couldn’t have even been three foot and had red skin with orange flecks.

“Safe?” Nero called relaxing on a roof. “Might not say that yet.”

“YOU!!” It cried out rambling back. “No no… another white-haired human.”

“Another?” Nero said hopping down and smirking. “So, I’m on the right track. Where did he go?”

The little demon leapt at Nero, who without any effort caught it by the foot and held it high.

“I'll poke those eyes out you nasty human you….” it rambled as Nero held it with his glowing arm. He gave it a quick slam on the ground and held it back up.

 “Now behave,” Nero warned.

“It has demon blood,” the Imp cried. Sticking its fingers in its mouth it whistled sharply.

Cursing Nero saw four dog-like creatures running towards them. The pack was ashen, with fire erupting from their eyes and ribs.

“Save daddy!” the small demon moaned.

As the first hellhound bolted, Nero kicked it back into an old building. As the next two went for his legs, Nero swung the imp with one hand and his sword with the other. One flew back and the other was cut in half.

“Bad dog,” Nero cut in as he stabbed into downed beast and revved the Red-Queen. The dog exploded, sending chunks everywhere.

Dropping the now knocked out Imp, Nero turned to the last two hounds who were circling him. Nero stuck his sword in the ground and bent down adding “Here boy.”

Pouncing, Nero grabbed it with his arm and bent it over his shoulder. It let loose a torrent of fire into the face of the other hound. Slamming it into the ground, it only took a quick swipe to dispatch the last of the demons.

It was with a horrible cry the Imp awoke. Its face was steaming, as the water it was dipped headfirst into began to boil.

“Now are you going to talk?” Nero demanded the top of its head.  

“Amon with talk, Amon will talk!” it cried in pain.”

“Good, where did that portal come from and why is it here?” Nero demanded.

“The man who talk funny opened portal. Amon was scared, he captured my hounds, but Amon needed to escape. Everyone is gone, the big monster ate them up. Amon was so scared.”

Nero frowned and dropped the imp. “And Vergil? How did the man talk funny?”

“He stammers. L… l… like this t… t… t...” The imp got to his feet and stared with big brown eyes. “Amon no know Vergil.”

“But you said another white-haired human. Where did he go?” Nero demanded.

The Imp pointed a long finger towards the path going toward Fortuna Castle. Nero sighed and dropped the demon on the ground. “Get out of my sight,” he warned and began to walk away.

“Thank you sir, thank you,” Amon cried bowing down. But as Nero got a few steps away he raised his head and let out a roar.

Bursting into flames, the demon grew ten feet, and its body went from that of a small child to sickeningly muscular.

Not even changing expression, Nero turned holding out his large revolver the Blue Rose. As the barrel of the gun touched the demon’s pointed nose, he blew a hole through Amon’s head.

Chapter Text

Sanctus lay upon an altar, his white robes red with his blood and the wound visible to all. Around him were hooded figures, only the most trusted of followers. The ceremony of ascension was at hand, and was their last hope. Only Sanctus knew what had to be done, could lead them into the next era and his death could not be permitted.

Credo stood with his arms crossed, looking stressed. As it stood, leadership would fall to him, but Sanctus had been a leader, a priest, and a father to him. He couldn’t imagine living up to that. Only a few minutes ago, he had sat at Sanctus’ desk and given orders to the sects in his holiness’ stead.

The room began to fill with light, energy flowing between both runes and wires. Two large and almost robotic knights dragged in a demon who was thrashing to get free. It was humanoid, horned and had six eyes darting around the room  It moaned out in pain, its arms severed and. Its legs broken in several places. There was no way to fight back, but it still tried its best.

A hunched, muscular figure walked from Sanctus to the demon. He had a monocle and thick brown hair pushed to one side. Behind him followed two hooded boys with two large white cases. One was a long and thin suitcase and the other a tiny box sitting upon a crimson pillow.

Bowing to the hunched man, they let him open the long box. In it was an ivory pole  tipped in silver. The ornate piece looked as though something was meant to be attached. The other boy opened the smaller box, revealing a spike of dark metal covered in patterns. The monocled man took the spike and placed it onto the end of the pole, making a spear. He held it up with a crazed smile, light gleaming off it’s dark blade.

The demon looked on with fear as the man came towards him. The spear was glowing and vibrating, almost as if heating up.

“We will feed upon your flesh Agnus…” the demon croaked.

Agnus stopped, just a moment before he drove the spear into the demon’s heart. It cried out in pain, the flesh burning away to ashes. A flash of light, followed by darkness as the room went silent.

The spear was now black, darker than any natural darkness and Agnus turned to hold the spear above Sanctus. It was a gesture for show, almost looking like a prayer. Credo had been watching the ritual, but now looked away, biting his lip. He hated the scientist, but they needed him.

Driving the spear down into Sanctus' heart, the lights burst before they were engulfed in darkness. Energy swirled around the room and the old man’s body beginning to jerk. Agnus slid back, forced by the aura enimating forth.

Sanctus gasped, his lungs filling with air. His eyes glowed red as the demonic power radiated the room and his body.

“THE BOY!” Sanctus choked sitting up. The glow of his eyes was fading, but his aura had completely changed. “Bring me the boy!”

“W… Who?” Agnus asked screwing up his face and wringing his hands.

“Your holiness,” Credo said moving between them and kneeling. “What boy?”

“Credo...” Sanctus said almost looking past him. “Loyal Credo…”

 Supreme General of the Holy Knights Credo’s face softened, lost in reverence for the old man.

“We must not let Vergil find Nero.”

Castle Fortuna was the old stronghold that had held off the armies of Hell during the war. The architecture was gothic, tall spires and battlements looming down. But it also had beauty. Statues, ponds, gardens, and trees, it was summer and the place should be full of life. However, as Nero stared down from the cliffs a blizzard was wrapping the castle and coating the land around it in ice.

Sliding down the rocks and dodging a few he kicked up with ease, Nero’s footprints were erased by the falling snow. His skin was cold, but his devil arm radiated heat. Clenching his fist, Nero prepared for round two with Vergil.

Pillars and statues hadn’t been completely covered by the snow, but if this unnatural blizzard didn’t end soon, they too would be lost in it. Nero thought he could hear more hellhounds howling nearby, but they didn’t approach.

Stepping out onto one of the many bridges, Nero could see Scarecrows dancing about stupidly on the parapets. One turned to look down at him and Nero made a finger gun, mouthing a ‘Bang!’. The Scarecrow jerked as if expecting a real bullet and slipped off the wall.

Giving a half laugh, Nero heard hissing in front of him. He saw an alien looking creature guarding the gate ahead, seemingly waiting for him. It was tall and mechanical, but also lizard like. It seemed to be covered in ice crystals, armoring it, and providing long claws. Watching Nero, it dissolved into ice.

Nero found himself surrounded by these Frost Demons, moving in and out of a self-made snowstorm. He whipped around trying to get a beat on one, eyes adjusting and locking onto its shape.

Reaching out and grabbing it by the face with his phantom arm, he slammed it into another. The ice shattered off them, but they vanished into the storm seemingly unharmed. Another lunged at him, Nero flipping over it with ease. Midair he drove his sword through its body and ice. Revving the Red Queen, fire burst from within the demon.

Keeping the blade aflame, Nero parried the next attack. The orange flames glowed off the snow falling around them. The ground was becoming wet as Nero’s attacks arced around him, to meet their attacks. He had no idea how many of these things there were; an arm flying off as fast as it had come out of the storm. But Nero clearly was handling them with ease.

There was a crack of lightning, and the snowstorm parted. Nero turned devil arm raised defensively as a woman smiled at him. The water on the bridge cracked with energy, the shaggy blonde woman snapping her fingers and electrocuting two frost demons that had been revealed.

“You look like you need a little help there,” she laughed.

“As if. Who are you?” Nero kept his distance from the strange woman. On her back was a sword with a dragon head hilt and his arm was glowing in response.

“I’m Trish,” she said not drawing the sword, but letting the lightning crack around her right hand. “I’m a devil hunter, like you.”

Nero didn’t like how she was watching him, and she seemed to be about to laugh. He didn’t know what was funny and sure as hell didn’t like being laughed at.

“I see... well I have places I need to…” Nero started, but another frozen demon leapt at him. With an angry yell, he grabbed it and slammed it against the wet stone.

“You are kind of cute,” Trish added drawing and throwing the long sword in one motion. The spinning blade met with a demon, slicing it clean in two.

“My mommy told me not to talk to strange women,” Nero snipped throwing the demon aside. He thought it was the last, but it was hard to tell in the storm. He was shocked when in an instant Trish was face to face with him and fluffed Nero's hair. “Hey… back OFF!”

Nero drew his gun backing up, aiming the blue rose at her. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t even flinch when he fired. Behind her a Frost collapsed with a new hole in its head.

“You aren’t with the order… are you?” Nero demanded. “I don’t think they would let someone like you in.”

“Careful you almost gave me a compliment,” Trish said watching him closely. “Tell me, are you a mommy’s boy?”

“Look I don’t know what you want…” Nero moved the gun to more clearly aim for her. “But I know a demon when I see one.”

“Takes one to know one,” Trish said eyes on his glowing arm. “You seem a little lopsided. Maybe you should try switching hands when you…”

Nero took the shot, but she was gone. Around him, the snow seemed to be stopping for the first time since he got here. Echoing off the stone, Trish’s voice called “May the Savior be with you!”

Vergil was wrapped in an ice storm. This was the center of the snow that had covered the land, the courtyard of Fortuna Castle. But right now, through the snow, Vergil could have been anywhere.

He could sense the replica Hell-Gate nearby and that this storm was coming from it. Flashes of the Ice-Hell went through his mind unpleasantly.

He turned his head, hearing the faintest giggle mixed with the whipping of the wind. Vergil thought he could see a shape coming towards him, a blue glowing outline of a woman.

“Lay down your arms mortal,” she said but Vergil wasn’t sure if it was out loud or in his head. “Let me show you pleasure.”

Vergil smirked, her fingers brushing his shoulder. She was nude with flowing hair and elven features. He could feel her press into him, tracing her fingers down his thigh.

“I bet you could make a girl gush…” she trailed off.

“Were I a younger man,” Vergil said and in reached past her. “But with age comes experience.”

 With a deep croak of pain, Vergil tore what looked like an antenna from her back. The Nymph fell like a puppet cut from its strings and the storm cleared enough to reveal a giant frog covered in ice crystals.

“Bastard!!” It roared croaking and booming in pain. “I will crush you!”

“An ice demon… Dagon is it?” Vergil asked putting the nymph down gently.

“Bael!!!” The demon roared and Vergil could see ice creeping up his boots. “The last of my kind… maybe the last of the entire frozen waste…”

“Did you see him? The demon they call Los?”

“Why would I tell you!” It cried and its tongue flew out.

Vergil didn’t move, his demonic image catching the writhing tongue as Vergil’s own shape transformed to match it. Bael whipped and growled but phantom swords rained down upon it, pinning the demon.

Now walking slowly, Vergil drew a crystallized sword out of the air and slowly pierced it through the eye of the demon.

“Tell me and I won’t make you suffer.”

 Crying out, Bael was stabbed several more times before it sobbed a confession.

“I was eaten by it, not like we eat but drawn into its flesh, absorbed.” The demon’s one eye was wildly moving. “When it grew too full, it burst. Demons poured out, running for freedom. I saw many of my kind crush and reabsorbed into it’s skinless body as bloody stains.”

Vergil shook, his breath visible in the cold that he didn’t feel. “And where is it now?”

“At the root… at the Qliphoth. It hates demons, hates humans. All it knows is vengeance.”

“Get out of my sight,” Vergil warned. “I won’t give you another chance.”

Bael shook its head in agreement and turned to leave, only to be caught in a lightning bolt.

“I'm not in the mood for company…” Vergil said clicking the Yamato in place, the Hell-Gate fell to pieces behind him.

Nero ran through the castle, a little annoyed by that strange woman. He couldn’t be sure she was with Vergil, but he had a feeling.

The ancient furniture and antiques were everywhere. A giant painting of Sanctus was the most garish sight of all. Nero would have flipped the geezer off if he hadn’t seem him run through a few hours ago.

Chandeliers, stain glass windows, it was all gothic, decadent and overrun with demons. Nero was getting stronger as he slew each enemy, his inhuman arm slamming a scarecrow with such force it became a mush of insect innards.  

It also was pulsing, pushing and guiding him through the castle. Where ever it wanted to go, it was lower.

Finally, he found an ancient elevator. Hoping this thing wouldn’t break on him, Nero pressed the button.

There was a loud clank and not from the elevator. He turned surprised to see a man in full body armor. It was clear to see it belonged to the order, having angelic engravings and their mark on the chest plate. What was off was how mechanical and heavy the armor had to be, not to mention the giant shield and lance he carried.

“Nice of you to show up,” Nero laughed pressing the down button a few times on the elevator control.

“Nero?” Echoed out of the helm.

“That’s the name, don’t wear it out.” Nero tried to smirk at the Knight.

“I order you to come with me.” There was no feeling, no trace of any emotion. It hardly sounded like a command.

“I don’t take orders from anyone but Credo, sorry.”

“It was not a question. I Bianco Angelo No.665 by order of Angus Chief Engineer, am taking you into custody.”

The knight moved the heavy lance, which Nero had to dodge. “Hey now rusty, don’t make me...” but before he could finish the Angelo revved it.

The large shield that the Angelo was wielding slid back, snapping mechanically onto it’s back and making wings. His feet leaving the ground, the knight shot forward. Nero rolled aside, coat flying back from the force.

Another charge and Nero leapt up, kicking down on the helm as the knight passed. The thud of Nero’s boots echoed oddly as the knight barreled down the hall. The Angelo made a sharp turn back, building speed and power.

There was nowhere to hide. Nero held strong as the lance drew closer and closer. It almost grazed his eye, as both his demonic arm and it’s projection grabbed it. The knight froze midair and jolted into his own hilt. Ripping it away, Nero thrust the lance back into the knight, revving over and over till the lance exploded.

The Bianco Angelo fell to the ground, blood rushing everywhere. The blown away chest piece revealed a man, who wasn’t a man.

His skin was grayish and eyes glowed with an internal power. Even scarier Nero thought he might have seen him at one of Credo’s formal gatherings. The last detail Nero noticed was a glowing scar where the man’s heart was.

“Alright, I want answers,” Nero said softly turning to the elevator gate as it opened. He stepped in and tapped the button with his human hand, glancing back at the suit of armor as it left sight.

The underground complex looked like the inside of a giant pipe. There were passages, openings and vents heading all different directions. Little glowing lights lit the way, seemly endless.

Nero went deeper and deeper, sometimes hearing the sounds of heavily armored footsteps marching nearby. He kicked open a barred room and slipped in, just in time to see a squad of mechanical knights walk by.

Clinching his fists Nero saw demons bound and staked in this room. Scarecrows, Lizard Demons and Hellhounds all being fed into machines. Most looked half dead, one lizard’s eyes fixing on Nero as it moved along on a conveyor belt.

Fallen down below, Nero saw a few demons who had gone off track. Whoever had captured them had inflicted several wounds to their heads, leaving them brain dead. Waving the smell of decay off, Nero moved on.

He had never seen eye to eye with the Order. Don’t curse, show respect, study more, pray for patience. He slipped behind some machinery as more Angelos passed, then ducked into the next room.

But this was horrific. Nero had a hard time accepting someone human was doing this. This room was full of dead men strapped to a table. These were Order knights, who looked like they had passed away from a variety of reasons.

Above all of this was an ornate machine that at a glance had some kind of injector or stake to be lowered into the bodies.  

“Where is the boy?” A White Knight asked marching with two others. He seemed to be a leader here. His armor feature many angelic wings and gold trimmings. In his hand he carried a white sword that matched his armor.

“Reports are that the elevators were…”

“REPORT THIS!!!” Nero shouted leaping out. He kicked the leader and sent him into a machine which began grinding the knight’s sword and arm.

The second Angelo stabbed his lance, but Nero grabbed it and redirected it into the third, before aiming the blue rose and letting loose an explosion of energy.

“Now…” Nero marched over to the lead knight with his arm still trapped and ripped off his helmet. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

The man had gray skin, scales going down his neck and pure white hair. The look of pants shutting panic made Nero smirk.

“I… I… this is the ascension!” he explained. “They use the re… relic to infuse us and purify and ascend to…”

“Bullshit,” Nero growled aiming his gun at him. “Who gave the orders!”

“H… his holiness!” the knight cried.

An alarm went off, the room flashing red. Nero kicked the helmet in frustration and gave the knight a single blue finger.

The lab’s hall led Nero deeper till he came into a circular room that had no other exits. A large glass window was above, revealing a rather tall, hunched man looking down at Nero. The room featured lights shining all around Nero and lots of mechanical pieces letting off steam. The middle of the room came up into a glowing cage.

Nero stopped, looking to his demonic arm. It was glowing extremely bright and bathing the room in blue. He could feel a tingling, as if the air was alive. Something was nearby and he had a hunch it was behind the figure looking down at him, a beam of red light that almost seemed to be calling Nero.

“So… you’ve come.” The unknown man said walking behind the glass and reading a journal. “Just as I had expected.”

“Huh… who the hell are you?” Nero asked patience running thin.

“I am Agnus…” he told and deeply bowed. “Working in secrecy, very few a p-p-p privy to my existence.”

“Funny, to find an Order official out for a stroll in a hellhole like this.”

“HELLHOLE!!! WATCH YOUR WORDS!!!” Agnus’s voice went deep as he yelled. “Just as foul mouthed as I heard… all the rumors prove true. As will the new ones, concerning your d-d-d-d demise.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” Nero mused walking towards the glass. “Killing me because the way I t-t-t-talk?”

Out of the walls, blades shot out. At first, they appeared to be swords, but then breaking apart and flapping around they seemed more bat like. They sliced at Nero, who cartwheeled, flipped and dodged. A nick to his wrist, a few strains of white hair cut loose. Nero scooped up one sword demon, forcing it straight and tossed it hard against the glass. There was an electronic spark and static, but it held strong.

“It will t-t-take more than that!” Agnus mocked. “S… surrender yourself for the sake of science.”

Nero felt a blade nick his shoulder and snatched it. Reaching out with his projected hand, he grabbed a second. Drawing The Red Queen Nero leapt at the glass, all three swords crashing into it. Agnus gasped and cowered, but it held strong, shattering the two mechanical swords. Nero fell back, smiling as he noticed the crack.

“Give up,” Agnus boomed.

From behind Nero a burst of electricity struck him in the back. The room was alive, and an electrical storm cracked from its center. Nero fell, his whole body starting to go numb. He knew he couldn’t take too many of those. With great pain he rolled and avoided a flying sword, the creature squawking at him. More went for him, each pushing Nero harder as he landed on the balls of his feet. Finally, he grabbed another sword demon as it passed and tossed it, widening the crack with the strike. But even as he felt the rush of hope, there was a winding crack. Nero could feel the pain shooting through every cell. His phantom hand smashed against the glass as Nero’s skin began to blister.

Revving the Red Queen up as hard as she could and with every bit of strength he had, Nero crashed into the damaged window. In a torrent of glass, flames and electricity exploding around Agnus, he toppled over and yelped. Nero landed in front of him, breathing hard as his skin began mending on its own. Agnus's mouth a gape, he stared at Nero's glowing blue arm.

“Tha.. tha.. tha… that’s demonic power,” Agnus stammered pointing at Nero’s arm. “How can it be?”

“Look who’s talking jackass!” Nero swung his sword forward and pointed it at the scientist. “Now answer my questions. What the hell is going on here?”

Agnus seemed to go from frightened to dramatically amazed, standing up and motioning to Nero’s arm. “How profound… it’s magnificent!” 

“Ok… did you even hear me?”

Agnus moved on Nero, who backed up and lightly swung the Red Queen. But as the blade got near Agnus, he caught it and held it gently, yet impossibly strong.

“If you want answers…” Agnus’s voice went deep as Nero tried to pull his weapon away, “Then I shall give them to you.” Then his voice going shrill as Agnus released the blade.

“It has only been a few years since I began this research. Could… I isolate and bind demonic power?”

Behind them the machinery hummed. Nero glanced at the red glowing light and saw a broad sword floating, or at least what was left of one. This long sword had been shattered into pieces, the blade floating under the skull cross-guard. The top of the hilt was spiked, but clearly was missing multiple that had been broken off. The Rebellion had seen better days, but it clearly was pulsing with energy.

“It… could enable us to conquer the world… and that… that is the wish of his Holiness.”

“What a crock…” Nero laughed and rolled his eyes. “and you might as well ditch the efforts. His Holiness is dead.”

“Ahhh…” Angus whispered. “But his Holiness has been reborn as an angel.” He took a bow. “And so have I.”

Angus smiled, his eyes staring into Nero’s. There was a hydraulic hiss and Nero spun around. He was pierced by a long spear and thrown into the wall, crashing into machinery. Two more Angelo’s charged in, stabbing into Nero’s shoulders and pinning him to the wall.

“See? See how this Soldier has changed?” Angus asked walking over to the floating knight. He lifted the visor revealing a darkened face. Energy glowed from its mouth and eyes. “He has ascended, became an angel!” His voice shifted to deep and raspy, “You have no idea the hardship!”

Agnus reached his arms out as if reaching to the heavens, a wild look in his eyes. “I had to fuse man and demon, to make angels! I had to summon countless demons and prepare our men to handle demonic power! Summoning them alone was almost an insurmountable task.”

“Summoning?” Nero muttered, blood running down his body. “So, it was you who made the gate?”

“Yes.. yes the Hellgate!” Agnus nodded. “I created it merely as a reference, a substitution for the real gate. But after utilizing an extremely powerful Devils-Arm… it proved sufficient.”

“What the hell are you talking about…” Nero struggled to get free, pain shooting through his body.

“Hmm, you should rest. Soon you will be the next subject of experimentation, so that I can learn a little something about you and that arm.” Agnus came close, nearly caressing Nero’s demonic arm, always just short of touching.

“Never,” Nero managed and spat blood upon the scientist.

Agnus glared and whipped his face. His eyes bulged with some strange rage. “T..t.. t.. take him out.”

He motioned and the Angelos withdrew their spears and rammed into Nero again. The lances pierced his chest, tearing flesh, blood flowing down the metal walls and armor. Everything went black, the white-haired youth slipped out of consciousness, and into darkness. 

A warm feeling, a heat. The words echoed in his mind “I see a devil inside you has awakened as well.”

“Nero!” a voice called. Then it another called, “Dante…”

“Run!! RUN!! Kyrie!!!” he yelled out.

Nero felt something. Was it death? Was it his arm? That need, that want for power.

“Power?” a deeper voice asked. It was inhuman and horrible, a flaming red figure appearing in Nero’s mind. It was as if he were turning away from himself, from that raw need for power.

“Vengeance! For those they take from us!” It offered. “We will make our own power, with the hate in our very soul.”

Nero thought of the parents he never knew, the parents that had been taken from him, taken from Kyrie and Credo. His blood boiled with agony of loss.

“Kill every last demon…” If that was Nero’s voice or someone else’s, he wasn’t sure.

Nero reached out, instinctively. The Rebellion flew towards his hand and as he caught it, felt a surge of strength. He exploded in energy, the knights nearly incinerated and falling crumpled in their twisted armor. His demonic arm flashed and went from blue to red.

Agnus was flung back, his human shape becoming charged with energy and forcing him to transform. He collapsed into a disgusting bug in the guise of an angel. Nero pointed the now reformed blade at his enemy for just a moment, power flowing out of him and taking a shape behind him. A red demon with spiked hair, glowing eyes, and black wings. The Rebellion vanished, energy flowing up Nero’s arm till the apparition drew the blade forth, now gigantic and pulsing with dark power.

“HOW!!?” Agnus demanded. “Not even I could succeed in restoring it!!”

“From that day forth… my arm changed…” Nero said, his voice was echoed by the shape behind him. Darkness enveloped them both, was pulled by them. “I will kill every last demon, make them feel my pain…” he walked forward, almost as if possessed.

“What?” Agnus gasped looking confused, twisting his long insect fingers.

“And if I become a demon… so be it… I’ll endure the exile… anything to protect… HER!!” Nero flung the blade forth, it’s energy cut through glass, metal and wire. Agnus ducked, screaming.

“This is preposterous!!! Preposterous!!!””

As Nero’s cut destroyed the building without real aim, Agnus used it as his chance. He slipped out the ceiling, flying away cowardly crying “Preposterous!!”

Nero closed his eyes, his arm glowing between red and blue. The image of Dante behind him faded and he collapsed to his knees.

Vergil turned, feeling that familiar power. For a moment he flashed between human and demonic forms, eyes widened.

“Like father, like son,” Trish said turning towards the source. “You might want to go to him before he gets out of hand.”

“I will have my answers first,” Vergil said turning away.

“You can’t avoid this Vergil. He’s your son,” Trish told him. “I met him, there is no doubt.”

Vergil held his hand out and a light flew to his outstretched hand from the ruined Hellgate. A large briefcase was formed and for a moment Vergil just stared at it before throwing it towards one of the castle’s many towers. The briefcase transformed into a spinning blade of roaring energy and sliced the tower clean in two. It came back like a boomerang and Vergil sent it flying towards the next spire.

“Throwing a fit won’t help,” Trish added.

Catching the weapon and taking a deep breath, Vergil’s brow darkened his eyes. “I am going to their headquarters.”

Chapter Text

A portal ripped open, lightning crackling forth as space bent around the tear in space. The glow was mirrored in polished white stone underneath, a long bridge of ivory.

Old Fortuna Castle had been the headquarters for centuries of war, but had recently been replaced. The new colorless wonder reflected the straight lines, geometric shapes, and gold ascents that decorated all the newer style buildings of the Order. It was a white fortress, built over the ocean and dominating the landscape around it. To even enter, one had to travel along the giant bridge featuring steps, pillars, archways, and ornate engravings.

The surface of the bridge cracked just faintly as Vergil walked out of the portal, followed by Trish. Behind them it closed, a few snowflakes slipping through. Looking over his shoulder inland, Vergil saw there was a massive tropical jungle overtaking ancient stone ruins.

“They spare no expense,” Trish said looking down off the bridge and at the structure coming out of the water. The bottom of the fortress seemed to be built on some ancient trees. “Qliphoth roots?”

“No… but descendants of it. Unlike the demon tree, they are mostly harmless. The people of Fortuna worshiped them years ago.” Vergil looked at the sun starting to set in the distance. “They called them Sefirot. As they grow, they try to ascend towards heaven and take the wishes of those who pray with them. They were all over Fortuna last I was here,” Vergil explained.

“Your lady friend tell you that?” Trish poked.

“Indeed,” Vergil replied but made it sound like a curse. He began walking up the stairs, the bridge climbing upward.

“And what kind of woman could warm that cold heart of yours?”

“Someone who wanted to save me.”

“So, it wasn’t just a drunken mistake,” Trish said a little timidly and watching him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Tell you what? That for a time I considered a normal life? That my drive for power couldn’t allow me to hold onto anyone?” Vergil was shouting now. “And now I am to claim this ch… young man as my kin? He’s has been corrupted by these hypocrites!”

“There it is,” Trish said softly. “You always hold everything in.”

“What can I offer him? What can I say?” Vergil demanded. “He’s better off without me.”

Going silent, Vergil looked ahead. A stiff figure was coming down the stairs and Vergil was more than happy to direct his mind elsewhere. Credo stepped down the last step and onto the bridge. The two were glaring at each other with an aura of violence that choked the air.”

“There is the thief,” Vergil said with a wicked smile. “Have you no honor?”

“Honor is all I have,” Credo said frowning his overly hard face. “I uphold the honor of my family, the Order, the Savior.”

“Yet…” Vergil added vanishing from beside Trish and appearing closer to Credo, still walking normally. “You use my father’s name, steal his namesake, unleash demons upon man and corrupt my blood!”

The Yamato was drawn, the act un-seeable by the human eye. Yet despite this elevated speed, it crashed into a wing like shield. Trish whistled and sat down with her legs hanging off the bridge, no sign of intervening.

Credo became bathed in light and enveloped in power. His entire body was covered in ivory feathers, a golden halo formed behind his dark face trimmed in the same metal. He bore only one wing that unwrapped from his arm, as he glided into the air. White and gold feathers were caught in the arch each movement.

“Behold the power of an ANGEL!” Credo cried bringing down a giant gold feathered blade.

Vergil's shook from the force, trading six blows in an instant. It was amusing to see that Sparda’s swordsmanship had passed down into this mockery, but it was a well-trained mockery.

“Is that all?” Vergil asked, transforming, and summoning the crystalized Devil-Sword of his name.

Credo raised his weapon, Vergil doing the same. They clashed and the air parted, three attacks colliding so fast they were only heard as they parted. They continued like this, backing off, rushing, and delivering blinding fast attacks before putting distance between each other again.

“I commend you, but this will never be enough…” Vergil began before, but a golden blade shot through his ribcage. Floating all around him and shimmering, countless gold lances pierced Vergil and sent him to the ground.

“Don’t disrespect me. I know that isn’t enough to stop you.” Credo flung his arm out, wing spreading and sending feathers falling as a long spear formed in his hand.

“I didn’t want to ruin the fun yet,” Vergil said blood ceasing to run from his body. “I thought I might take out some of my issues on you.

Around the son of Sparda everything glowed white. The ivory building, the sun glinting off the ocean and Credo’s angelic feathers. The devil shape of Vergil seemed a dark stain upon the purity here.

“I am the shield that defends man,” Credo stated firmly. “We are the protector of innocents.”

“You, the Guardians of Marli and every self-righteous demon involved human…” Vergil said standing up. The golden blades shattered; jets of blue fire shot from the wounds as they sealed. “But how many innocents benefited from those Hell-Gates? How many demons did you fail to wrangle and set upon your people?”

“Casualties to a greater cause!” Credo yelled with a burning rage. It was not hard to tell Vergil had hit a nerve. “The family I lost, the men I lost! I give everything for MANKIND!”

 Credo moved like a flash of light. Crashing down, again and again. Vergil backed up, defending a few strikes as he stepped up the stairs and slid onto a circular platform.

“I shall not falter!” Credo warned coming up after him, blackened bird like feet gripping stone. The white demon kicked off and the clouds parted in his ascension. Against the fiery sky, Credo gripped the spear with both hands and began to fall.

“So be it,” Vergil muttered and turned the crystalized blade to face the ground. It seemed to glow as his demonic form began to shoot energy from different openings in his scales and horns. “Prepare to die… angel…”

Nero was on an adrenaline high, tearing through vines, roots and demon. The voice of the sword beat in his ear, “another down”, “filthy demon kind: as it grabbed a scarecrow and pulled it in two.

The jungle was completely alien to Fortuna, tropical and overgrown. The scarecrows had been infested with strange flowers that whipped their roots with razor sharp blades. Not willing to get near them, Nero kept his distance, the spectral Rebellion shredding demon and foliage like a buzzsaw.

When their path was blocked by large vines, the Rebellion demon lashed out, sending scarecrows flying and slicing several large trees in half. Had its aura been a natural fire, the forest would be aflame.  

“I’m on fire,” Nero laughed and leapt up a tree. In the distance he could see the white of headquarters, glowing in the sunlight.

Sensing there were no more nearby demons, the specter vanished, Nero realizing how fast his heart was beating. The sword had been absorbed into his arm, but he could still feel its power flowing through him.

Sliding down, Nero moved a little sluggishly. He came to a clearing, a broken Hell-Gate covered in thin swords. It almost looked like small explosives had chipped most of the slab away. Among the pieces of the gate and more swords, a single red rose sat almost glowing.

While that might have been a sign Vergil was going this way, Nero had given up the chase. Now he just wanted answers from Credo himself.

He wanted to know why the Order was allowing these experiments and how long had his holiness had all these bat-shit plans. After he punched out whoever was in charge Nero was going to talk to Kyrie and get her out of her. They’d leave, find a quiet place to settle down. He didn’t know how she’d react to what had become of his arm or what the Order had done, but Nero wanted nothing to do with the crazy cult anymore.

Reaching the white steps Nero took them two at a time. There was pressure, something eerie as he stepped onto the bridge. Whatever it was, it made Nero feel small. Barely noticing Trish, who was leaning on an arch, Nero’s attention snapped to the demons far above the upcoming platform. One white and gold falling like a meteor, the other a blue and black winged monster rising to meet it.

“I think you should go play somewhere else Jr,” Trish warned.

Clicking his tongue, Nero drew his gun. His demonic arm cracked with a red glow, energy pulsing as it fired a bolt of energy that traveled through his arm, and out the barrel. Trish with a simple flick redirected the bolt with a glowing rose mid-air, the bolt crashing into the water under them.

Above them, the white and black shapes met violently. There was an explosion, the sky distorting for just a moment as clouds wrapped around them like a storm. Then a crack rang out so loud it left Nero’s ears ringing.

The sky had gone dark, then light as the clouds now parted. The figures fell from the sky, at first impossible to tell who came out on top, until the dark demon grabbed the other by the leg. Slowly they descended, the black wings outstretched around them. It held the fallen angel as if carrying a trash bag.

That’s when Nero saw it. The white feathers flashed out of existence and in its place was Credo, held by one of his boots. The horned devil dropped Credo onto the stone callously. The wings closed around itself and warped back into human shape of Vergil.

Nero let out a cry, echoed by a roaring Rebellion. The violent aura, and intent to kill made it hard to breathe. Trish’s eyes widened as she was shoved back off the bridge, Nero running for Vergil who went pale.

Enemy seemingly frozen, Nero took the advantage. He swung the Red-Queen for Vergil’s head with all his strength. Vergil’s own phantom stopped the sword with one hand and the Rebellion came crashing down on the equally phantom Yamato. The human half of Vergil was still unmoving and mouth slightly a gape.

“DANTE!!!” Vergil’s demon cried out. The human half still, pale and gritting his teeth. It’s eyes looked at Vergil himself even as it held Nero off. “I can taste your fear… you are still no better than that weak child crying for your mother.”

“SHUT UP!”

“FUCK YOU!”

Vergil and Nero’s voice echoed out as the two parted. Vergil had drawn the Yamato, his phantom split in two, but its laughter remained. Nero clawed his hand, the red creature behind him still screaming in rage. It raked its hands across its chest and gnashed its teeth, clearly unstable and out of control.

Shaking off his shock, Vergil held his hand out to Nero. “That’s too big a toy for you, give me the Rebellion.”

“You will have to pry it from my cold dead hand!”

“Nero…” Credo muttered forcing himself up. “Nero get out of here; this guy is too dangerous.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

Credo reached Nero’s side and his eyes dropped to the glowing hand. “Your arm… we need to get you help.”

“I don’t need help,” Nero yelled turning to get in Credo’s face. “AND I’m not letting that scientist anywhere near me.”

“That’s an order soldier!” Credo command.

“And what about you? Don’t think I didn’t see that Credo! What did they do to you!?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Enough,” Vergil called clicking his sword in its sheath. “I don’t intend on standing here while you both bicker!”

Even as the last words left Vergil’s mouth Nero moved. He slid low, on one side the physical sword arching left, while from the right came a glowing Rebellion. Vergil caught both on the blade Yamato, sliding back as Credo came down with a shimmering sword.

This should have been no trouble for him, but as Vergil moved to defend himself a spectral arm held the Yamato’s blade. The Son of Sparda looked up, unable to summon his own specter and bracing himself when everything went white.

Before Credo’s blade could meet its mark, a bolt of lightning struck the ground. Credo twisted mid-air and fell to the ground gasping, his middle spraying blood everywhere as his injury reopened from impact.

Nero called out to his brother, Trish and Vergil now between them. Trish herself looked wet and more than a little annoyed. Beside her Vergil dark and statue like.

“She-devil,” the Rebellion called between its teeth.  

“Maybe we can talk this out,” Trish said looking from Vergil to Nero. “I'm sure you have a lot in common.”

“I somewhat doubt it,” Vergil added not looking at her.

“Credo!” cried out Kyrie’s voice. Nero’s eyes widened as she ran forward and held her arms out, shielding the semi-conscious Credo from Vergil with her body. “Leave him alone!”

“Kyrie?” Nero mouthed losing the phantom in a puff of red flames.

Vergil locked eyes with her, no emotion on his face till he saw a much taller figure slink behind her.

“Such family drama,” Agnus said with a twisted smile.

Around them landed countless metal winged knights. An army of Bianco Angelo clattered into rows of lances held firm. They stood standing eerily still in a circle around them, not even seeming to breathe.

“Two sets of brothers reunited,” Agnus mused barely touching Kyrie’s shoulders. “Dante and Vergil, Credo and Nero. But we can’t forget the innocent sister… or should I say love?” His voice went low on the last word and sneered at Nero.  

Nero began to walk past Vergil, his clawed hand balling into a fist. The mechanical knights kept their places, except for those near Angus who lifted Credo off the ground and dragged him back.

Kyrie looked uncomfortable with Agnus holding onto her. She watched Credo being taken away, then looked to Nero as he came closer.

“Nero you…” she was staring at the glowing arm in plain sight to all. “What is that?”

“Kyrie its ok, I’m ok,” Nero told her, but Agnus began whispering in her ear.

“He's using the powers of a devil. Nero did it to protect you, put his very soul on the line. And now he’s losing control of himself.”

“Leave her ALONE!” Nero yelled, freezing as Agnus wrapped his arm around Kyrie’s neck and drew out a dark spike It glowed faintly, as the skin of her neck beginning to burn.

“CAREFUL,” Agnus warned. “Or we’ll see how pure she remains when I mix a devil’s essence.”

“N… let go!” Kyrie struggled. Agnus, however, only tightened his grip.

“Bastard…” Nero growled.

“Now Nero do as you are told and kill Vergil. You must sacrifice the only true blooded family you have left for the girl you love.”

Nero turned to Vergil, who avoided his gaze. Agnus squeezed harder, Kyrie letting out a faint yelp as the knights took a few steps forward. Trish sighed and stepped between the white-haired men.

“You really going to play ball with him?” she asked Nero. “Vergil isn’t your enemy, he is.”

“Enemy or not… does it really matter?” Nero asked back turned to Kyrie and Agnus. “I have to do everything in my power to protect her.”

Nero raised his sword and brought it down at Trish. In a flash of red, Dante’s shadow lunged behind Nero and shot the long sword into the eye socket of Angus like a stinger. Trish hadn’t moved as the sword stopped inches above her shoulder and smiling faintly.

Agnus cried out; grip loosened a moment. A blue flash took off most of his fingers on his right hand; a spectral sword slamming into the wall behind him. Blood sprayed on Kyrie as Agnus skin became keratin and insect wings spread from him. She gasped as one black hairy hand grabbed Kyrie by the hair, but Nero was on him.

Phantom arm slamming the bug into the wall, Nero grabbed up Kyrie and carried her bridal style. He kicked off one of the Angelo’s and back into the air, leaving Trish and Vergil alone inside the circle of enemies.

“Damn you!!!” Agnus yelled blood pouring everywhere as his flesh mended. He began to retreat, the knights formed a barrier to protect him.

“It’s alright now,” Nero said holding Kyrie. “I was so scared… if he ever…”

Kyrie looked shocked, her eyes going to the glowing arm that held her shoulder. She looked pale but raised a hand to touch Nero’s tear-stained face.

“Nero… I don’t know what’s going on but…  it’s ok.”

“We'll explain everything and leave here as a family,” Nero said glancing over his shoulder at Vergil coldly. “I just have to find Credo first.”

Vergil himself looked at the boy, a strange mixture of feelings only faintly visible. He turned back to Trish, telling himself to let Nero go, that he had a mission to finish.

From the entrance only more Angelo knights marched forward. One of these at the front had a badge on its breastplate and light pouring from within the helm. It was clearly one of the commanders that Nero had encountered earlier.  

“The time of judgment is upon us,” Sanctus’ voice echoed from within headquarters and the knight commander’s helm. “As once a demon rose to an angel, we to ascend.”

“You will only find death here Sanctus.” Vergil’s mouth was tight, brow lowered. “You can’t hide from my wrath.”

“Wrath is a sin Vergil,” Sanctus warned. “Come I shall purify you of these sins promptly.”

Vergil was a blur, enemies bisected and trisected. He would stop, sheath and wait just a moment before the Angelos swung at him, then reappear as limbs were severed. Trish didn’t hold back, a storm of lightning cracking around her. Electrical charges followed her, thriving on the metal armor as she sent bolts from her hands. The knights stabbed and thrust, Vergil dodging with ease and Trish floating weightlessly above them. Some came into the air, using metal wings and jets to come after her, but were struck by lightning that sent them crashing back down. Throwing the Yamato, the blade spun around Vergil as phantom swords appeared in his hands. Sparks flew off the transparent blades as they dug into armor and easily pierced through plate-mail. Releasing these, Vergil caught the katana with his sheath.

Besides the blue of the spectral blades, red stake like swords were flying from Trish. On her back the Devil-Arm Lucifer was open and moving mechanically. Two claw-like quivers seemed to have an endless supply of blades that she could draw from. Almost dancing in the air, she stuck pin after pin in the enemy, never staying in one place. Soon most of the army engaged on the platform had at least one glowing sword of red or blue stuck in them.

The Commander revved his sword, within the voice of Sanctus calling “We are the divine servants of God. You wish to know of the divine plan? I shall show you.”

Vergil stopped, phantom swords spiraling around him and keeping the army of Angelo’s at bay. “I have something to show you too Sanctus.” From nothing, a large glowing suitcase appeared in his hand and Vergil slammed it into the ground. Pandora clicked open and a roar of light emitted out of it, the sounds of thousands of cries, laughter, talking, and moaning coming from within.

The Commander froze, light bathing him. The armor blackened and slowly began to break away into ash. From within an unknown person who had been twisted by the Order’s experiments began to liquify, Sanctus himself nowhere to be seen.

“We are more than one individual Vergil; we are the will of GOD!” came the elderly Vicar’s voice from yet another Angelo whose helm began to glow the same as the previous “I shan’t die till his will is acted upon this earth.”

“How many times do I have to kill you?”

Vergil began to be wrapped in darkness, energy crackling from his body. A visible aura wrapped the area, and Trish twisted further into the air. For a moment it looked like Vergil had drawn the Yamato and gone in multiple directions. The air was filled with blue streaks that crossed repeatedly; each mirror image of Vergil drawing multiple slashes across their enemies and danced back to the same pose. Each went to their knee, slowly sheathed the Yamato as they became one again.

Trish looked down upon the carnage. For a moment everything was still, till the katana clicked in place. The army upon the platform fell, armor splitting into pieces as the ivory marble turned red.

“Why would Sanctus do that?” Kyrie asked as Nero ran with her. “What about Credo? He had to of known something?”

“Kyrie, I don’t know, we just need to get you to safely,” Nero told and held her tighter. “I… I know I’ve never said this, but you saved me. I was just a punk kid on the street who hated the world, but it was you who helped me feel real again, feel loved.”

Kyrie seemed shocked by this confession, leaning into Nero’s chest. “Nero I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“I’ll save Credo, we’ll will get out of this hellhole…” Nero paused as he saw another squad of knights at the base of the stairs. Past them, the wild jungle stood vast and free.

“Be careful,” Kyrie told him.

“When have I…” Nero laughed by was cut off. He turned, feeling a haunting presence behind him.

There stood Sanctus, but he had changed since Nero had seen him. His eyes were red sunken, gaunt with reddening skin and horns growing from his head. He had his own glowing halo behind him and trails of glowing light that swayed in the wind in his hand was what could only be described as a hunk of meat and bone, but along its edge was a silver blade.

Nero twisted, taking the cut along his back to protect Kyrie. The weapon seemed to have a presence, an overwhelming power that brought Nero to the ground. As it slammed down into him, he heard Kyrie calling to him, then he was plunged into darkness. Nero could only feel that sword; so all consuming and powerful, yet somehow familiar.

Chapter Text

Nero felt himself flying, his legs dangling underneath him. His vision looked like clouds; a few random colors interspersed among the blue. He felt himself pushed against what felt like cold glass and tried to reach for his gun to realize it was gone.

“Don’t touch me,” he said weakly and went for his sword, only to be shoved back and feel a strange tingling. “I said DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The Rebellion formed in his hand, only for it to be pulled away. Nero drew himself up, seeing a one-eyed insect looking at him.

“We’ll be taking that,” Agnus told pushing Nero’s head back and gripping his hair.

“Let the girl go with him,” Sanctus ordered. “I shall bless them with that mercy.”

“Nero? Nero!”

He jolted, feeling metal hands digging into his wrist. Nero thought he could make out Kyrie, but she seemed to be fading away into a glowing light. He shouted, fought, his vision began to return, and Nero felt that overwhelming presence. He saw Sanctus glowing with some unknown power, smiling at him.

“Vergil is already dismantling our defenses,” Agnus warned. “We need to leave now that we have the sword.”

“Yes, take it and unseal the gate. We shall use the boy as the Savior’s core and begin our rapture. Good night Nero, rest in heaven with the rest of Fortuna.” Sanctus’s eyes glowed with an evil light, and with only a wave of his hand, Nero was frozen in place.

Sinking deeper, Nero looked up into a gigantic, bleached face before being pulled completely into darkness. Floating he saw Kyrie and reached out for her, his glowing hand lighting her face blue. She seemed to smile at him. As she faded away, Nero called out her name after her.

Lasers flooded the carpeted hall, Vergil running at full speed would fade into a blur as they drew near and without breaking stride keep running. A few Angelos tried to stand in his way, but Vergil knew them far too well now. Even their shields couldn’t hold against more than one cut from his blade.

“Yes, Vergil come, come and face the legacy of your father!” Sanctus’ voice echoed through the building. “We are waiting for you, welcoming you to the rapture.”

The hall was filled with shadows, black shapes emerging from the walls. What looked like black rags also had red bug-like faces. They had bulging blue eyes and long clawed hands. Orange segmented fingers pointed at Vergil, before they extended out.

Flipping over two long spikes that crashed into the checkered floor, Vergil slapped another away with his sheath before striking one across the face with Pandora. The creature hissed, not noticing the suitcase extend out into a longbow. With a twang, a torrent of beams bounced around the room.

This ate away at the black rags till the demons fell to the floor. The Pandora let out a few more mechanical sounds before becoming a large ballista. There were the sounds of clicking and cries of fear as a beam of light fired into the darkness, incinerating all in its path.

Vergil felt like he was close, close to whatever made his skin crawl. Even getting near this place, it was as if he had become very small or like thousands of eyes were watching him.

“Are you ready to see my masterpiece?” Agnus’ voice rang out and echoed down the hall. “It took countless humans, demons, and devil-arms to devise such greatness. His Holiness tasked me with bringing God’s justice and I delivered.”

There was light at the end of the hall but also Agnus. He stood hands outstretched, posing as he smiled. A new addition of a white eyepatch obscured his face. In his undamaged hand he held the Rebellion, tip to the ground.

“I will enjoy killing you a little too much,” Vergil told him. He slowed down, his mouth twitching in annoyance.

Passing through the projection, Vergil heard Agnus take a breath and was cut off.  The power went out, the false image and glowing lamps fading away. The structure shook and the now pitch-black hallway made the light ahead blinding. Vergil assumed Trish had reached the core of whatever powered this place and soon the building’s structure would start coming down next.

Stepping out eyes closed, Vergil slowly opened them to see what looked like gigantic legs. The room was made of a number of platforms, stairs and balconies around what must have been a colossal statue. Looking up there were knees and a waist of white stone. Feathers and wings adorned it, along with golden horns sprouting from various places. The angelic detailed carvings instantly reminded Vergil of Mundus and that made his blood run cold.

He followed the path upward, ankle to knee, thigh to waist and chest to collarbone. Where they got the amount of bleached stone and how many hours it must have taken an army of artists to carve, paint and inlay was unthinkable. Even worse were the giant blue gems that looked more like lapis than sapphires. They glowed with a horrible presence and Vergil thought he could see faces, human and devil twisting within them.

Leaping up onto the final platform, Vergil saw a horned and expressionless face staring down at him. It was like the statue of his father in the church, but even more human besides the feathers on the neck and the large golden horns. He clicked the Yamato with a mind to desecrate this abomination when from its shoulder emerged Sanctus. His body phased out of the stone, he himself corrupted by demonic magic.

“AHHHH The Son of Sparda!!! Does not the image of your father fill you with wonder?” Sanctus asked looking down upon him. “Shall I recount to you the story of your father’s climb from Hades and ascension to Heaven?”

“I’ve already heard it,” Vergil said softly trying to mask his anger. “Perhaps I should tell you the story of how my father burned dinner or when my mother yelled at him for leaving the toilet seat up?”

“How can one aspire to godhood if he has not lived the life of a man?” Sanctus asked. “I could tell you much of the humiliations of old age.”

From Sanctus point of view Vergil didn’t move, he was at rest and then sword drawn. A wave struck the old man and cut into his body, blood spilling everywhere. But even as Sanctus’ body mended itself, he sank into the statue.

“I am above mortal injuries. Now I am a part of Fortuna itself! Countless souls, countless demons, all in the name of ascending!”

The words ran out through the room and in Vergil’s head. He felt the ground shake and had to move as the stone began to collapse. The statue was rising into the air, a golden halo forming behind its head and pieces of the building spinning as they were caught in the statue’s orbit.

“THE SAVIOR WILL NOT BE STOPPED!!! Vergil behold as all of Fortuna, including your son shall bring justice and peace to the world!”

Vergil froze upon the top of the building; the last time he had seen Nero had been outside this building. He knew the boy would be nearly impossible to apprehend, but he couldn’t be sure. The raw amount of power this thing had couldn’t be just any. Vergil closed his eyes, sensing his father radiating from it, but more concerning was how the blade was clearly fully active.

The Savior was moving towards Fortuna, gently gliding over the jungle and landscape. Vergil bit his lip and then regretted it as the stone under him gave way. There was cracking and moaning as stonework began to crash into the water.

“Better find solid ground,” Trish said electricity spreading from her feet as she leapt. “This thing is coming down!”

They met down on the stone ruins; pieces of a cathedral that were scattered among the vegetation. Trish stared at a stained-glass window that had to be some old angel worshipped here. It lacked the Sparda inspiration that adorned Fortuna’s art now.

“So that’s a thing,” Trish said looking through a missing pane at the large statue floating in the distance. “Why is it going towards town?”

“No idea,” Vergil said taking off his jacket and letting some fresh water run through his hair. It was getting messy now that the gel wasn’t keeping it completely down. “They have the kid and my father’s sword. It can be the only way they are powering it.”

“Can you kill it?” Trish asked nothing looking out of place or dirty on her.

“From the outside? Not sure.” Using a knife Vergil quickly shaved off some of the stubble on his chin and felt Trish’s hands touch his long hair. “It has clear weak points in the gems. Shouldn’t be too difficult to break those.”

With a black ribbon Trish tied his hair back. Vergil didn’t seem to mind, relacing his boots afterward. The two took this little breather, Vergil sitting down with his hands resting atop the Yamato. Trish kept glancing at him with a worried look.

“You just got back from the Underworld. Are you up to dealing with your son?” Trish asked plainly. “Feeling aren’t something you are good with.”

“He already has a life,” Vergil sighed. “I wasn’t there for him. Another child with Sparda’s blood whose parents couldn’t protect him from this world.”

“You didn’t know and had all your family trauma to deal with,” Trish said as she sat down next to him. “There is always here and now to be there for him.”

“How has things been with Lucia?”

“Good, she’s really come out of her shell. When she first came out into the world, Lucia was like a doll to me. I dressed her in different styles, took her everywhere with me and I watched her grow into someone a lot happier.”

Vergil nodded and smiled at that. “I’m glad you have someone. Feels like you were meant for each other.”

“And Lady? Did you grow any fonder in that place?”

“She’s in the hospital last I knew. Shouldn’t even be walking, but she slapped me last time I checked in. I suspect she is out there somewhere on a job already.”

Trish nodded and added “If we had time, I would get Lucia and Lady over here to help. Somebody needs to get the civilians out.”

“Go ahead of me,” Vergil told her. “Warn everyone and I’ll see if I can break the old man’s new toy.”

Trish put an arm around Vergil’s back and then stood up. Nodding to each other she waved and said, “See you in a bit” before vanishing in a bolt of lightning.

A little tired and stiff, Vergil dusted his coat off. He cut a portal that flakes of snow came flying through and stepped into the frozen lands outside Fortuna Castle.

“Lend me your ears… and fangs…” Agnus began as he walked through the fire lit alter. It looked nothing like anything in Fortuna today, aged bricks, a pit leading down into darkness and no decoration or decadence. He stepped up to a glowing circle that almost looked like a modern circuit in the form of a pentacle.

Lifting the Rebellion up, the sword’s tip was aimed at a hole meant for a sword to be placed into. The magic circle seemed to be pulsing, connecting to the singular point. However, the large blade of the Rebellion looked too large for it.

“Destroy this world so that the true utopia can be born!!!” Agnus cried stabbing it down. The stone cracked and split, but the magic circle began to glow hotter and brighter. Around him the walls lit up with patterns to reveal that the magic circle was only a small part of the pattern drawn down here. The runes and designs went on endlessly all around, possibly in tunnels that were underneath all of Fortuna.

“Judgement day has arrived!!!” Agnus announced and raised his hands. His one eye moved wildly, and he tightened the only fingers he had on his right hand.

A group of hooded women were walking together gossiping. Trish had no idea why hoods were all the rage here, but as soon as they saw her, they all stopped to stare.

“You need to get out of here, demons are invading the city,” she said, but they still seemed more fixed on her than what she was saying.

“Credo said we are safe. Why should we take the word of some harlot?” One demanded before being backed up by the others.

Trish opened her mouth about to let a string of curses out when there was a horrible metallic moan. The Hell-Gate almost seemed to sway before a black line began to divide it in half. Trish watched as the gate opened. Out of it poured shadows and small demons who all looked desperate. It was as if it had been connected to multiple points in Hell, flashes of ice, forest, and fire flashing by.

“FREEDOM!!!”

“SAFETY!”

A lizard demon ran by and saw one of the many hooded women who cried out at the very sight of it. It lunged at them but was caught by a bullet to the skull.

“Get your family out of here!” Trish yelled at them. “I don’t have time for bitches who think their better than everyone else and I don’t have any more bullets to spare.”

She vanished in another bolt of lightning and dove into a crowd of large ant-like empusa, guns blazing. Their little red eyes stared at Trish before crying out in pain. Firing glowing shots that if they missed seemed to whiz around and find a new target, Trish made her way towards the sound of more screams.

Kicking a feathered lust demon off a man, Trish saw more Angelo soldiers marching into the city. From multiple of them Sanctus’ voice called out “Be at peace, for the Savior has come to protect mankind!!!”

The Savior had arrived, firing countless beams of light from its head and arms. The Hell-Gate had ceased to release anymore demons despite the portal being wide open. Vergil watched this from atop the Cathedral of Sparda, seeing countless knights flying around the statue.

“This mockery won’t stand,” Vergil muttered and leapt through the broken stained-glass dome.

As he drew himself up, he saw someone had pointed spotlights on the stage. Agnus stood there holding a book that he carefully laid on the ground. The scientist put his hand on his chest and spoke out loudly as if to a crowd.

“Yet he seems mightier far than them, nor less. Beauteous, and yet not all as beautiful. As he hath been, and might be sorrow seems. Half of his immortality and is it so? And can aught grieve save humanity? He cometh.”

Vergil smiled weakly and stepped on the stage. In his hand he held the Yamato, but he did not move to draw it. “Mortal!” he called as he held a hand out toward Agnus.

“Spirit, who art thou?” Agnus cried almost dancing a step towards him.

“Master of spirits,” Vergil answered darkness overtaking even the stage light around him.

“And being so, canst thou leave them, and walk with dust?” Agnus asked, turning away. The hunched man seemed to hide his face, in mock fear.

“I know the thoughts of dust and feel for it and with you.” Vergil took a few more steps forward and Agnus retreated as if realizing the real threat.

“You know my thoughts?” Agnus asked, drawing a sword from a portal. The two circled each other, as Vergil drew the Yamato, the tip almost meeting Agnus’ own.

“They are the thoughts of all worthy of thought.” Vergil struck a blow that Agnus met, transforming into his bug-like form. “Tis your immortal part!”

Agnus took a step back, unable to match Vergil’s speed. His shoulder was split open, hip grazed and took a stab to the gut. He fell to the ground, no blood falling. “I live, but live to die; and, living, see no thing” he choked out.

“How long are you going to keep playing?” Vergil demanded. “I am tired of this.”

Agnus slowly melted away, revealing a soldier in the Order’s normal garb. The scientist in his demonic form clapped from one of the unbroken pews.

“Did you really think I would fight you in a fair fight?” he asked, holding up a strange hourglass-like device. I know I can’t beat you that way.”

The room went gray as Vergil withdrew the Yamato. Agnus was moving incredibly quick. Hellhounds charged into the room, leaping on Vergil, and biting into his arms. Dragged to the floor, he dropped the Yamato and let out a curse.

“Now the true Hell-Blade, THE YAMATO!” Agnus said reaching down. He only had enough time to leap back as Vergil’s phantom took a swing for him at nowhere the speed it should have.

“Such a fascinating ability. I shall enjoy experimenting on samples of Sparda’s blood,” Agnus told him smiling and tapping his fingers together.

“We’ll see about that,” Vergil said standing up as the specter sliced into the hounds. “Evil springs from him, do not name it mine…”

Upon his fist Vergil summoned a metal gauntlet and lifted it to the ceiling. Pistons slammed back, combustion igniting from within. The jet fire sprayed upon the floor as Agnus charged at Vergil. The large blade pierced Vergil’s middle and then his chest, Agnus stopping his attack only to block a blow from the phantom.

Vergil’s fist glowing with energy, the gauntlet began to melt a little on his arm. The sleeve of his coat burned off, a glowing molten orb forming around his hand. “Till ye know better its true fount and judge…Not by words, but though of Spirits!”

As Vergil finished quoting, he slammed Gilgamesh into the floor. The cathedral exploded, a pillar of fire shooting into the sky that even the Savior turned to notice.

“Farewell Agnus…” Sanctus said, his voice echoing out over Fortuna. “May you find peace.”

Vergil, however, was very much alive. Crashing down into the ancient structure underneath, he landed on the platform that the Rebellion was stabbed into. He tossed aside his coat, ignoring the rubble coming down all around him and grabbed the Rebellion with a charred hand.

“Dante…” Vergil muttered pulling the blade free.

But as the weapon was freed, the room only sparked and glowed hotter. The broken pedestal began to pour out energy, clearly ruined from the devil-blade. Vergil slung the large blade over his back and followed the path, hearing the room fully collapse behind him.

It led Vergil to another exit, most of the paths upward collapsed from the building above. Pushing the gate open, he looked at the large Hell-Gate in front of him. It was an ancient path to the Underworld, possibly the only one he could enter if he tried. It flashed a portal of fire, ice and then of flesh. Vergil thought of Bael and his story. Los, the most likely connection to Dante and Mundus was at the root of the Qliphoth. This might be the only chance he had to return to Hell.

However, Vergil turned and looked at the floating false god that raised its hands to the sky. Sanctus’ voice was singing some old prayer that annoyed Vergil further. He thought of Nero trapped inside; the son he never knew. Vergil hadn’t been able to protect him from pain earlier in life, but he could put this right. Under his breath he asked Dante for forgiveness.

With a snap the Yamato was free, and the Hell-Gate split in half. Its upper half crashed to the ground, taking a great deal of buildings with it and Vergil braced himself to face his divine enemy.

Chapter Text

“The Rebellion…” cooed Vergil’s Devil half. “One of our birthrights returned at last.”

Vergil stood atop the tallest spire in Fortuna, looking up at the Savior far above. He could hear people praying in the building under him, to God, to the Savior and to Sparda. The lasers that fired from the massive construct were aimed at the army of demons in the city, but they also blew holes in people’s homes and collapsed buildings.

Leaping into the air, Vergil planted his feet on a magic circle and shot even further into the sky. Air whistled around him as he broke the cloud line and landed on one of the many platforms floating in the Savior’s orbit. It shook under him and little bits of stone fell from it, but it held Vergil’s weight. Around him, Angelo’s began to circle, lances at the ready.

“Have you come to reclaim your son?” Sanctus asked, his voice booming from the Savior. “Why don’t you join him? There is much for you to catch up on.”

“That doesn’t deserve a response,” Vergil told, summoning his Devil-Sword. He stabbed it into the stone, as the ivory behemoth turned its full attention on him.

With a spectral flash of light, Vergil split in two. His and the doppelganger’s backs facing each other, they moved to the edges of the platform. In the Devil’s hand was the Yamato and in the Human’s the Rebellion. They both jumped from the platform, landing on floating stones on either side of the statue. A massive hand came crashing down for Vergil himself, who was easily out of the way before the stone shattered.

The Devil was swarmed by Angelos, flying in formations with their lances. Between his bulk, tail and wings there was no way to avoid every attack. The Yamato came whistling through the air, blood spraying from the knights as shield, lance and armor was split asunder. The spiked tail shot into a breast plate and with one clawed hand, it ripped helm and skull from another.

Vergil slammed down the Pandora and pressed a button before moving to the next floating mass. Fire flew his direction, but Vergil moved between increasingly small stones and sometimes even used an Angelo itself to redirect himself through the air. Each he planted a single glowing sword as he passed, marble or foe alike.

The Savior brought both hands together, reducing a chuck of ivory to dust. It looked like a godly being trying to crush a fly, though now the fly was upon his hand. There was a crack as the Rebellion crashed through the blue gem and a flash of light erupted out. Grabbing its hand, as if it could feel pain, a spectral form rammed into his back, driving a blade into yet another gem.

“YOU STRUGGLE IN THE FACE OF GOD! Ohhhh lowly devil!” Sanctus called anger ringing in his voice.

Vergil reappeared on a bit of rock, spectral sword bursting. The backhand of the statue swung for him, but the Son of Sparda appeared elsewhere.

“You cannot have him. Nero is now deep within the heart of the Savior, a rebel turned SAINT!”

“Saint?” Vergil laughed as he stood on a stone depiction of an angel.

The Savior turned, it’s pure face ever expressionless. From between its hands a black hole emerged, filled with stars and light.

The stone around it began to be pulled forward, being compacted into nothingness. The angel flew towards its fate, Vergil gripping the Rebellion with both hands. He swung three times, sending forth giant black slashes that crashed against the Savior’s face. Stone shattered off, revealing flesh, bone and wires underneath that instantly began mending. Spinning the sword, Vergil shot into the air as the angel was reduced to nothing. He kicked off the emptiness, magic circles appearing with each lunge of his legs.

Floating almost to the point it might leave orbit, the Pandora began to make a clicking sound. The suitcase opened and twisted, strange mechanics taking the shape of a woman’s face. She lowered her jaw with the sound of pistons and gears. From its mouth a beam of light fired out into the rib of the Savior, a wailing echo as the air burned.

Stone and blood spilled out into the orbit, the statue falling sideways in the air. Vergil himself landed on it’s shoulder and held a hand up as if gripping something. The platform with his Devil-Sword vanished and appeared above Vergil, who swung the arm down. The chunk of marble slammed into the head of the Savior, sending it spinning as Vergil himself fell through the air.

As Sanctus' voice cried in pain, Vergil could hear the echo of thousands behind it. Demons, humans, all were fused into this abomination. He heard the statue crash into the city underneath it and it took all his strength to transform long enough to spread his wings and land in a garden.

Boots meeting the soft grass, white petals flew up all around him. Vergil saw his glowing Devil-form land next to him. It looked down on him, pulsing as it held the Yamato. The petals seemed to circle the doppelganger and hang in the air.

“Get up and fight. This enemy is nothing compared to the emperor.”

 “They have the Sparda, my attacks do very little.”

“We cannot be stopped here. No surrender, no mercy. Are you admitting defeat?”

“No… catching my breath.”

Vergil stood up, feeling his body ache despite his inhuman stamina. He had no visible wounds, but he knew this situation was difficult.

“They have our power, we must reclaim it,” the devil demanded.

“They have our son,” Vergil corrected.

“He means nothing to me.”

For a moment he considered the phantom, not saying anything. Finally, he swung his arm out and disburse the shape. The white petals fell onto the stone and Vergil left to do battle again.

 “You holding up?” Trish asked as Vergil passed.

“This is going to be a long battle,” he admitted. “I do not require assistance.”

“Right…” Trish sighed and touched his face softly. “I think this is an inside job.”

Vergil exhaled loudly and turned away. Trish put her hands on her hips and called “It’s not always a bad thing to ask for help!”

The Savior had crashed into several buildings when it fell, but slowly it was rising again. Pieces of the street and buildings caught in its orbit, including the top half of a clock tower.

“Brought so low by a mortal, your Savior seems a little underwhelming,” Vergil called from atop a chunk of Fortuna’s road.

“Jest all you want Vergil, we both know you can’t stop me!”

Raising a white hand into the sky, golden horns glittered from the wrist in the sun. In a single chop, the weight came crashing down. The Yamato and Rebellion crossing to block the blow. The hand was as large as a building, crashing all its weight against the tiny figure with his glowing blades. The road split under Vergil, who swung the weapons out and sent the hand back skyward.

Shattering what was left of the brick road, Vergil flew towards the Savior, slamming the Yamato into the chest of the statue. It was like a pin compared to the size of the creation, but the Yamato went deep.

“Wake up!” echoed through the Savior.

Spinning Vergil slammed the Rebellion down, chunks of shining blue crystal flying past him.

“Wake up NERO!”

As Vergil kicked off, fire wrapped around him. Both ivory hands came together and almost crushed him, but he slipped past leaping onto the clock tower.

Within the Savior countless people shook with awareness. One of these was Nero, who shifted in the weightless mass.

“Fuck off, I don’t care anymore.”

Both blades slammed into the crystal within the knee cap.

“You wanted to save your family, right? Are you really going to keep sleeping?”

Nero shifted again. He thought of Kyrie and Credo and it was as if the curtain was pulled back. He knew he was trapped, captured. Nero pulled at the countless hands holding him down, flesh crushing his body.

“You have the blood of Sparda, my blood. They cannot control you.”

“Vergil…” Nero called out anger and frustration filling his mind. “You have a lot of explaining to do, then I’m going to deck you.”

The Yamato flew into the air, knocked away from Vergil who was slammed into a piece of rubble. Standing up, he drew his Devil-Sword and prepared himself.

This time the Savior balled its colossal hand into a fist. Vergil leapt up and caught it against the edge of the blade. A sonic boom rang out and shattered glass throughout Fortuna.

“Save your family before its too late!” The feeling echoed through the stone, traveling up the Savior’s body and shook Nero.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Vergil felt the air rush around him, the fist losing all momentum as the punch met resistance. For a moment Vergil felt strong and in control, but that ended as the crystalline sword shattered.

The devil inside him cried out, pain burning through Vergil as his manifestation vanished. He fell back and with the last of his strength threw the Rebellion straight into the chest of the Savior.

“You miserable piss ant!” Sanctus cried and with incalculable weight behind it, brought the fist of the Savior down on Vergil yet again.

However even as Vergil plummeted to the ground, the Rebellion had found its mark. It had pierced crystal, stone and flesh till it stabbed into the heart of the Savior itself. A glowing red arm shot out to meet it, grabbing the handle before cutting the organ open.

Nero fell to the floor, breathing with his own lungs, feeling free from the countless voices. The Rebellion glowed with a dark fury, demanding for vengeance and Nero was all for it.

 Picking himself up, Nero walked the blue flesh of the Savior. The paths were as if an ancient temple had been overtaken by meat and eyes. Blue, red and purple eyeballs spun wildly as Nero walked the path. A glowing light was ahead and as he drew near, he felt his sense of direction spiraling, warping and stretching till he stepped out onto a gray stone.

A large arena with organs beating above came into view. In its seats were faceless, featureless gray humanoid shapes. Souls had wandered here to see what was going to happen. Across and above the arena was a large glowing organ spewing light. Beneath that was a throne, where Sanctus sat. He had developed large horns like that of Sparda, along with a glowing third eye.

“There you are!” Nero yelled gripping his weapon tighter. “I’m going to f…”

“Silence boy…” Sanctus said without moving his mouth. In a flash of light Kyrie fell from the glowing mass and landed sprawling out before his feet. “You have no power here.”

“Let her GO!”

Another flash of light and a large figure formed in the center of the arena. Nero froze as the one-winged inhuman form of Credo turned to look at him. His dark face had glowing gold eyes and from where his heart is, Nero could see a glowing red stake.

“You still letting them control you?” Nero demanded.

“Enough,” Credo somehow both yelled but didn’t emote. “It’s time to accept fate and surrender to the Savior.”

Credo held a large monstrosity in his hands, wrapped in a dark aura. The sword attached to flesh and bone had an overwhelming sense of violence, of Hell itself.

“I’m here to save you…” Nero said the Rebellion in hand. The blade began to glow as the Specter formed behind him. “Even if it means kicking your ass.”

Credo flew off the ground and brought the blade down. Nero flipped aside, knowing there was no stopping that thing. The stone split, dark flames springing up from where it left its mark.

“Wake up! Kyrie needs you!” Nero called dodging another large swing. With all his strength in mid flip he lunged. The Rebellion met the Sparda and sparks flew across the arena. The crowd gasped, a wave forcing them back into their seats and warping their shapes.

The Sparda made a wet snap and became a scythe. Spinning, Credo whipped the weapon around and made a wide sweep. With that single swing Nero was caught in a whirlwind and thrown backwards across the arena. He had to throw himself to the floor, the weapon sailing over him and parting the air.

The phantom Rebellion though had been cut in half by the attack, its flames dying out. However, before it could fully vanish it landed a right hook square across Credo’s jaw. There was a crack, but Credo only took a single step back.

“Ignorance does not mean innocence,” Sanctus said standing up. He raised his hand and Kyrie floated up as if tied to a cross. “Should I cast her out? Deprive the girl of her chance in heaven? You are cruel young Nero.”

“I’ll deprive you of your head!” Nero yelled starting towards Sanctus only to be blocked by Credo’s arm and blade. Black flames fired across, the gem inside the blade glowing.

“Maybe let me tag in,” Trish asked tossing the Yamato to Vergil.

“If Nero doesn’t stop this soon, then feel free,” Vergil managed breathing a little hard. “I have a few tricks left.”

The Savior turned to them, standing together on one of the few platforms left. They were so small compared to it, yet the statue focused its full attention upon them.

 Vergil drew the Yamato cutting three large slices in the air. The three blue streaks created a triangle, almost invisible in the sunlight. As the monolithic arm came down upon them, the three cuts formed a void of purest black. The long arm slid further and further into the portal before emerging again. From another tear in reality, the Savior was struck in the face by his own fist. Its cheek bone came flying off and cracks spread across the horns.

Snapping the Yamato back into its sheath the portals closed. The white arm fell from the sky, crushing several buildings as blue flesh sprayed blood. The Savior looked expressionless at the missing limb, in mock surprise.

“That is a cool trick,” Trish nodded.

“I see you got your stubbornness from your father,” Sanctus said looking out as if he could see far beyond the walls.

Nero mouthed a string of curses, leaping up and planting foot on the fleshy blade. Flipping back, he did a string of summersaults to buy space. Credo swung out his arms, white and gold feathers floating around him.

“Credo… remember you told me to never make Kyrie cry or you would beat my ass? Even if that was coming home beat up from fighting with the other kids?” Nero asked. “You remember giving me your old cassette player?”

Credo began to float, charging through the air. The Sparda came down with both hands, but Nero’s phantom caught the sword between its palms. The Rebellion let out a yell, it’s arms and shoulders only manifesting. For just a moment the red flames blazed purple, and he redirected the sword to the side. Nero arched his weapon upward, but it slammed into the single wing uselessly.

“Remember when we had that bunk bed? That first night you told me you were going to become a knight and protect everyone?” Nero slid back, hair blowing as an attack barely missed the bridge of his nose. “You are doing a pretty bad job of that right now, damn it!”

“Shut up!!!” Credo yelled taking several large swings. “Stop being such an idiot!!!”

Nero’s back met the wall. Gasping, he tried to move but the Sparda pierced through his glowing arm. The demon blade cut deep both into the rock and Nero himself, half severing the appendage. Blood flowed out, the devil-sword glowing with dark flames.

“Snap out of it!!!” Nero cried and slammed the Rebellion into Credo’s chest. Blood spraying out from behind, Credo coughed up yet more. The weapon flashed red, glowing hot. “WAKE UP!”

Credo stumbled back and Nero’s right arm fell useless to his side. Crying out the white devil pulled the sword out of him, no blood spilling this time. Energy wrapped around him, crackles of electricity and flame coming forth. Flinging the long sword aside, the glowing stake only got brighter.

Shrinking down, Credo’s form changed. The stake erupting with light, beating like his heart. He fell to his knees before Nero and caught himself with his hands. His lower body was still covered in feathers up to his chest and Credo’s upper body completely bare. The gold trim across his jaw remained, leading up to now white hair. The single wing drooped tiredly, and Credo seemed to stare at Nero in recognition.

“Credo…” Sanctus said slowly walking towards them. He drew a silvery white version of the Force-Edge from the air. “Kill the boy or your sister dies. Obey me!”

Looking at Nero there were no words passed between them. Credo lifted the Sparda, and Nero took the handle. The Sparda itself seemed to breathe and filled Nero with its oxygen. Electrical pulses fired down his arm and filled his being with power.

With a single lunge, Nero rushed forward, the weapon snapping out like a spear. It ran Sanctus through, Kyrie falling aside. Hair growing long, teeth fanged as his skin glowed blue and both hands took on demonic shape. Nero felt the weapon snap back and with another strike he split the old man in half from waist to head.

Dropping the Sparda, Nero grabbed Kyrie and lifted her up. She looked into Nero’s glowing eyes and tears began to fall from them both. She weighed nothing to him, as Credo struggled to place a hand on her shoulder.

Outside the Savior was swatting away lightning bolts with one hand. Trish stood concentrating as Vergil watched. Suddenly without any clear reason, the one arm fell limp and the Savior stopped moving, a bolt tearing across the chest.

“Looks like he did it,” Trish smirked, lowering her hands.

“About time,” Vergil complained but looked pleased.

The chest of the statue exploded, stone and meat flying across the city. Nero flew out holding Kyrie as his long hair flowed behind him. He landed in the courtyard, with Credo following.

“Impressive,” Vergil said crossing his arms.

“I don’t need your approval,” Nero said and put his forehead to Kyrie’s. “You’re safe now.”

As Nero set her down, Kyrie took his glowing hands and smiled. “I never was in danger as long as I have you to come save me.”

They stood there a moment in silence before Vergil stood a step forward and held out his hand. “That weapon is too big a toy for you.”

Nero reached back, both the Sparda and Rebellion slung over his back. For a moment he hesitated, but spinning the large swords he placed their tips to the stone instead of handing them over. The two seemed to stare at each other for a moment, before Vergil took the Sparda's hilt. 

“YOU PEST! YOU DAMNED FOOLS!” Sanctus’ voice cried out, the Savior’s face twisting into that of the old man. “I will bring Heaven’s will to this earth and I…”

Whatever Sanctus had left to say was cut off. Nero turned, raising both hands. Two large phantom limbs grabbed the statue by the face and held him a moment.

“I’ve had enough with you and your speeches!” Nero yelled before crushing the head to dust.

The Savior fell back, and Nero’s hair flashed with light as it returned to its normal length. His left arm peeling away to reveal a normal hand once again.

Chapter Text

They had decorated Fortuna’s main square in colors of gold, red and green. Many people were wearing crude masks and costumes of angels, demons, or spirits. The celebration of Samhain brought out the pagan and old beliefs that normally were hidden away by the doctrine of the church.

Vergil stopped in front of a wicker depiction of a demon being wheeled down the street. It had multiple sets of crudely made wings, two long horns and painted red eyes. Rose petals scattered from its base, leaving a trail behind it on the cobblestone.

In the back of his mind, Vergil knew he was being followed. Not by shadows or the unnatural shapes that haunted his existence, but by a lone woman. He put a few coins into a merchant’s hand and picked up a black feathered mask. Never speaking a word, he slipped back into the crowd.

She had started following him not long after he had arrived. Vergil felt a prang of annoyance, but also amusement. He explored the libraries, churches and other historical places looking for information about the life of Sparda, acutely aware of her presence. It was difficult to parse through the myths and legends, to find any real knowledge, so his mind would slip to his stalker.

Vergil moved among the fellow incognito people enjoying the festival. Sometimes you would see a devoted religious person, always wearing their hood and a look of disapproval at the pagans. Some of the Order’s priest stood reading holy text or shouting for them to end their pagan rituals.

The woman who was trying to keep up with Vergil was wearing her own blue mask, red hair flowing behind her. She pushed into the crowd, calling “Excuse me,” as the sea of people only became denser.  

She stumbled forward as if tripped, semi falling into an opening in the crowd. Colors flashed through her eyes as she caught herself. She was in a swarm of dancers, trading partners and spinning. Masked people looked at her questioningly, as she didn’t join in.

Gasping, Vergil took her hand and spun her back into his arms. She locked eyes with him, a smirk on his lips. Vergil placed his hand on her hip, discreetly lifting her off the ground to hide the fact that she wasn’t dancing. Soon, unwillingly she was swept up in the next dance, Vergil placing her feet on the ground.

“You play a dangerous game,” he warned. His lips were right next to her ears as he perfectly mirrored the other dancers. “I am not someone to be trifled with.”

“I know who you are.”

Vergil spun her again and wrapped himself behind her. His hands were inches from her neck, but his grip on her was soft, gentle.

“And who am I?”

“The Son of Sparda.”

There was clapping, Vergil moved away from her and took a bow with the others. She breathed a little heavily, embarrassed as everyone was watching. But her gaze never left him. Through that mask, his eyes glowed like fire reflected in ice.  

“I can help you,” she whispered.

Vergil’s lunch was untouched, and he began stirring the vichyssoise as the sun reflected in the wine glass. He pulled out a small case, removing his reading glasses and sitting back in the seat. It was quiet on the boat, only the faint whispers from nearby tables and the waves. The trip back to Fortuna felt overly long and dull to Vergil, who had rushed back to Redgrave city after the events with the Order.

The Sparda and other Devil-Arms had been placed in a bunker. Secure, but also a place that would need improvement upon his return. There were many tasks for Vergil to attend, checking assets, buying new clothes, and having a suit tailored. He had even made the attempt to check in on Lady, only to find she had gone underground. All of this he did in the two weeks before he’d return, a promise to the son he had recently found.

After ending Sanctus, Nero reached back and absorbed the Rebellion back into his arm. He then checked on Credo and Kyrie, the siblings hugging before he turned back to Vergil.

“Start talking,” was all Nero gave him.

“I didn’t know you existed.”

“So what? Was it a one-night stand? Did you even know her name?”

Vergil looked away, face hardened. “Her name was Beatrice.”

Nero stared Vergil down, waiting for explanations that Vergil did not have. His lips tight and fixing his hair Vergil put his hand over his face.

“I wasn’t there for you. If I could redo it, I would. But the person who left Fortuna all those years ago, was not someone who could have given you a good life either. I was on a dark path, blinded by arrogance and lost everything I could have had.”

Nero seemed to fidget with his jacket, tapping his foot as he held his emotions in check. “Right, dramatic… I don’t need a dad. You can go back to Hell or wherever it is you live.”

“That sword, the Rebellion, it belonged to my brother, your uncle Dante. He was loud, angry and a good man. Take care of it.”

Vergil slid the large weapon of his father’s name onto his back and drew the Yamato. Nero watched him intensely as he cut a portal open.

“Give me two weeks. When I return, we’ll talk again.”

Arriving, Vergil saw the old city of Fortuna full of life again. The damage the Savior and other demons had done was severe, but the roads and important buildings had been cleared. Fortuna had become the talking point of the international world much like Marli had. Their government had collapsed in a matter of days, along with people’s talk of demons and the floating god that had fallen upon their city.

Contrasting the antique look of the cars and buildings, cranes, lifts and bulldozers had been sent as aid from other countries. People were resuming their jobs as best they could, even if the neighboring building was semi-destroyed by one of the Savior’s blasts.

Much to his surprise, Vergil stepped off the boat and saw someone waving at him. Kyrie was among the crowd, a large grocery bag with bread poking out the top.

Her face went from smiling to timid very quickly as he approached. No doubt the memories of his assault on the cathedral were traumatic.

“It is a pleasure,” Vergil told her and taking her hand to kiss it.

“No… No, the pleasure is all mine!” she laughed off key. “I came by the last couple boats hoping to catch you. Nero said it was silly because you probably only travel through portals.

“Only when I have to. How has he been?”

Vergil and Kyrie walked the stone streets together. Workers in hardhats moved chunks of white stone and large holes were being filled in. Everything was busy, except the small pocket here or there of destruction so bad the place stood abandoned.

“I think he’s matured a lot; he’s had to. We started an orphanage to take in all the kids in need and that’s a lot of work. After the Savior there are so many who need us and Credo is trying so hard to just hold Fortuna together. He’s already set us a budget, but he still needs Nero to hunt down stray demons.”

“So, in the end, he’s still following their orders?”

“No, Nero is a free agent now and Credo says there won’t be a new Vicar. He's just the commander till they figure out a new system.”

“I see.”

Vergil saw one knight dressed in the Order’s white uniform. Under the hood, he thought he could see the faint glow of his eyes. The stranger seemed to keep his distance from everyone, bowing his head when he noticed he was being watched. There would be no easy path for those altered by demonic arts.

“We thought about leaving. But we don’t want to abandon Credo. Someone needs to keep his head on straight.”

Kyrie talked freely with Vergil, telling him of the rebuilding and changes. Of how Nero really seems a lot happier and more open. She blushed talking about him, clearly deeply in love with him.

“It makes me happy that Nero has you,” Vergil told her. “You have a good heart and both Nero and Credo need that to help guide them.”

“Th… thank you! It makes sense that Nero’s dad would be so sweet! Don’t tell Nero I said that, he really doesn’t like people knowing what a romantic he is.

They moved from the more open city to a more closed in section. It was mostly apartments, several stories off the ground with the damage all the more real here. Huge chunks were missing from the buildings, sometimes exposing abandoned areas, sometimes tarped over.

One of these buildings had a ring of small children outside it. They seemed to be playing marbles, except for two who were currently mock sword fighting with the mop and broom.

“Ellie! Jacob!” Kyrie shouted and without thought handed the groceries to Vergil.

Thinking of his own childhood, Vergil looked over to see Nero standing in the open garage. He was covered in oil and dirt, a large wrench in one hand. The two locked eyes and with a grimace, Nero motioned him inside. 

“Kyrie talk with you?” Nero asked gruffly and took the bag from Vergil to stuff cans into the cupboard.

“She is a kind woman,” Vergil answered. “Very hopeful.”

“I don’t know how she does it,” Nero said nodding. He wouldn’t really look at Vergil as he talked. “Kyrie always has a smile on her face.”

Nero opened another door and stepped out into the garage he came from. Vergil followed seeing pieces of a large sword on the table, tools on the wall, a large van without wheels and a motorbike that looked like it had a built in sheath for said sword.

“Thinking of opening my own business. Hunting devils and whatnot.”

“I see.”

On the wall was a blueprint for the sword. Crossed out was the names ‘red king’ and ‘purple rook’, leading to a much larger ‘Purple Bishop’..

“Well go ahead and talk, get comfortable.  I don’t have time to just sit around,” Nero told him and tossed his jacket onto the couch.

Vergil froze. He had no idea what to say, where to start.

“I’ve been having bad dreams, fire, a woman calling your name. I’ve heard her speaking to ‘Dante’.” Nero picked up a screwdriver. “I think it’s my arm.”

“Memories from the Rebellion,” Vergil agreed sitting down and crossing his legs. For a moment he fished in his jacket and removed an old book embellished with a large V. “I often dream of that day. Fighting Dante to get my book back, and our home on fire.”

Nero didn’t say anything, he just glanced over his shoulder at him. Vergil turned the page and sighed at the silence. He tried to think of what his father would say.

“The world needs a Dark Knight, someone who walks that line between salvation and damnation. But when the world needed that Knight, they found children.” Vergil looked up at the ceiling.

With Trish, she had known his history and mostly he had acted as support to her. To share himself, that was infinity harder. He owed Nero an explanation. But his own history wasn’t something Vergil enjoyed.

Fighting with Dante, the demons, his loneliness. Vergil confided that at first, he blamed his mother, his father and even Dante for it all. But when it all settled, Vergil knew he was not strong enough to protect them. He had been was just a child.

Traveling out into the world, the Yamato carving a path through demons and stealing what he needed. It wasn’t long before Vergil used his inhuman powers to kill those devils in their lairs and take their money for his own. Being hunted, being the hunter; those made him feel inhuman, but being able to get a proper bath; that restored him. To sleep in a bed and read a book, those brought back the first born son of Sparda.

The humans he met either ignored his existence or pitied him. Vergil grew cold and gave into that need for power. He began to search for evidence of his father, to find the darkness that he might arm himself with.

Nero never commented, just worked. Vergil told of Marli, of Redgrave and then Fortuna. All the places he had gone in his youth in his search for meaning and how life had brought him back to each.

Vergil followed Beatrice into an old building that smelled faintly of mold. She told him she had tucked away old writings that the Order had meant to burn. Writing that didn’t portray Sparda as the savior angel who came soaring from Hell. But as a true creature of Hell who turned to fight a long bloody war on his own kind.

Above an old fireplace Vergil saw himself, or rather a painting with a striking resemblance to himself. A man with white hair atop a horse, a purple cape flying behind him.

“This is what you came for right?” Beatrice asked and held out an ancient tome. “I can help you!”

“So, if she was so great why leave?” Nero demanded, leaping out of the van. He looked emotional and about to yell more.

“Because she wanted to save me.”

“AND HOW IS THAT SO BAD?”

“I didn’t want to be saved.”

Silence fell and Nero kicked a trashcan over, before lifting the hood of the vehicle.  “You need a room for the night? Kyrie probably has one set for you already.”

Vergil didn’t answer, crossing his arms he went through a number of emotions.

“She’ll expect you to at least stay for dinner. Kyrie has to make extra to feed the kids.”

“I’m back!” called a young woman’s voice. They both turned to see a dark skinned girl who was wearing a welding mask. “I fixed the blow torch!”

As she pulled it up the facemask, Vergil noticed she couldn’t have been older than sixteen. Her arms were covered in scars and across her waist was a belt full of tools. There was something faintly familiar, but not.

“Oh shit! This your daddy Nero?” she asked wide eyed.

“Whatever, I’m going to check on Kyrie,” Nero said with a sigh.

“Don’t know what crawled up his butt.” The young woman looked up and smiled at Vergil. “You gotta be better than my dad.”

“Thank you?” Vergil managed.

“My names Nico. I came to town to find my father and Credo sent me here… not that I’m a kid anymore! I am the best damn mechanic, gunsmith and devilarmist in the world. Between my grandmother and ‘his’ notes I can make about anything.”

She seemed to take up what Nero had been working on, sliding under the van. Vergil didn’t feel like telling her she was still a kid or ask how someone so young even knew what a Devil-Arm was.

“Excuse me, I need some air.”

Lady slipped under a velvet curtain and into the backroom. What normally was a pawnshop and gunsmith from the outside got weirder and more morose where the normal patrons didn’t go. In here there were guards with rifles, coffins converted into tables and its center piece, a large ornate suit of armor that looked like it belonged in a science fiction novel.

A few creepy men sat around passing trinkets and scraps of paper before glancing over at Lady with paranoid looks. They ranged from gnarled priest to slick businessmen and everything between. It all smelled of cheap scented candles, covering an undertone of sulfur and sweat. Depending how many drinks she had later, and how much they reminded her of her father, Lady might come back to burn this place down.

Stepping up to the counter, her vision was blocked by wire fencing. A few figures moved, a shifting of boxes and tools coming from the back. She knew everyone here was human, obsessed with the occult or seeking out dark powers, but they were at least human.

They sold rarities, weapons, and information about the occult here. She needed the latter, having been away from this realm for so long Lady was out of the loop.

“We had thought you were dead,” a voice called sweetly. A man in black came up to the desk smiling at her. Around his neck hung an upside down cross and many more demonic imagery was tattooed on his arms. “It’s good you survived Marli.”

“I’m looking for work,” she said bluntly. Lady reached down moving her hand past the handgun strapped to her thigh and tightened the mechanical brace. “Demons to kill, money to be made.”

“If you can bring one in alive we will pay a premium. So rare to see real creatures of Hell lately. The tarot cards and quiji boards even grow silent these days.”

“So where do I find work?”

“Fortuna is the only common place to hunt and that’s if you can avoid the Order. It’s a open secret that they unleashed a portal to the Underworld upon their own people.”

Lady slid a stack of bills through an opening in the fencing. He stared at her for a long while, not saying a word. Finally, she stood up to leave when the old man began talking again.

“There is someone who came by a few weeks ago looking for you. Rumors say he’s been asking about you all over town.”

Lady sighed, this didn’t seem like the place Vergil would come searching. She took another stack of bills and put it beside the others.

“And does he have a name?”

“Tony Redgrave.”

Lady paused, that name slowly coming back to her from the rumors many years ago. An alias for someone she had known such a short time, but left a large impact.

“Tell me where he is,” Lady demanded grabbing up yet more cash.

“Hey hey, save that money, I charge by the hour,” came a voice that Lady recognized instantly. She spun around and despite that voice, didn’t instantly recognize him.

Lady might have mistaken him for Trish at first. He had long blond hair, that was messy and tangled here or there. His body was frail, ribs showing through his ragged red t-shirt. Jeans were worn out and torn, boots untied, and a few spiked bracelets hung loose on his thin arms. Bruises covered his body, and he had a black eye. But despite the emaciated state, that face, and eyes were still vaguely recognizable.

“D…” Lady began.

“Tony… It’s Tony,” he told her waving a thin hand. “It’s still just Lady right?”

“Ye.. yeah,” she said dumbfounded. “You… you are alive.”

“I think so,” Tony laughed. He limped forward weakly before asking “You know any local pizza places? I’m starving.”

“Sure…” Lady said almost reaching out to help hold him up. “What happened to you?”

“What hasn’t happened,” Tony laughed weakly, this time Lady did catch him and help him balance before walking together through security. “I got mugged by a gang a few times, and being homeless isn’t fun with all the rain. A demon tried to drag me into a kitchen to ‘serve me’.”

Lady almost commented about him needing a good bath, but decided to save it. They slowly came to her motorbike, and Tony sat down with a wheeze, before muttering,  “Hate to ask, but you alright to pay?”

“Nothing is free,” Lady said mounting the bike. “You can repay me by telling me everything, then we can take you to Vergil.”

“No,” Tony said raising his voice and making Lady turn wide eyed. “N… not yet. Not like this…”

It was raining outside, as Vergil sat down at the table. Nero still wouldn’t even look at him as he helped Kyrie set the table. The orphans were all staring at Vergil with fascination. He wondered if it was his fancy suit or the resemblance to Nero.

“Your hair is white like Nero’s,” one of the younger kids announced confirming what was on their mind.

“He’s his dad dummy,” another said.

“Be nice,” Kyrie said tapping the large spoon on the table. “Mr. Vergil is our guest.”

There were more mumbles from the kids as Vergil loosened his collar, feeling a nervous sweat.

Kyrie led them in a prayer. “We thank you for this meal, for family and our health. May the sav…” She paused before finishing “Amen.”

The food was good, a stew that had been slowly cooked over the course of the day. Dipping his bread in, Vergil felt this was very warm and homely.

“These children are very lucky to be eating your cooking,” Vergil said with a forced smile.

Kyrie turned a little red and said “Th.. thanks! It’s really nothing special.”

Vergil stood up and began to help gather plates, only for Nero to grab them away from him.

“Sit down, you’re the guest,” Nero barked.

Frowning Vergil pushed his chair in. The children watched him nervously and peeked glances at the clearly angry Nero. Searching for something to say Vergil looked at a half empty bookshelf.

“I could donate books for the children…”

“We don’t need it,” Nero snapped again.

“Nero!” Kyrie called pouting and touching his arm. “That would be lovely Mr. Vergil. We would love books appropriate for children!”

It went on like this, Vergil wandering into the living room. There was a chest full of toys and a rocking horse. Vergil hadn’t realized how old and fancy his home as a child had been till much later. He made a note to donate anonymously to this place later.

Behind an old recliner was a pair of wooden swords, almost as if they had been taken away and hidden. Taking it into his hand, Vergil balanced it for a minute, Nero coming in holding a stack of towels.

“Kyrie thought you might want first go at a shower…” Nero paused to look at him. “Don’t go stabbing anyone now.”

Vergil tossed the toy to Nero, who caught it with his free hand. The second wooden blade felt just as pathetic as Vergil raised his guard.

“You looked like you needed some pointers,” Vergil said raising an eyebrow.

“Shit, do you know how silly you look?” Nero asked before leaping at him.

Vergil parried the attack with ease as Nero leapt up onto the recliner, the chair snapping open as he took another fighting stance atop it. Another smack of the wooden swords led to Vergil taking a few steps back and them trading strikes on the stairway.   

“NOT IN THE HOUSE!! TAKE THAT OUTSIDE!!!” Kyrie shouted, running after them as the kids gathered to watch.

Chapter Text

Twenty-Four Years Prior – The Human Realm

Vergil sat in the window, the sun rising behind him barely lit the room. One leg just under him and the other still outside, he didn’t move for a long while. Inside felt dirty, going in profane, but he might as well. From here he could see the damage to the apartment, door hanging from its frame, wall bowed in, and floorboards displaced. Outside the entire front was nothing but rubble and ruin.

It smelled like old food, sweat and a cheap deodorant. It wasn’t hard to tell this was the home of a bachelor with drums, jukebox, speakers, guitars, and a ruined pool table scattered about.

His boots met glass, that had been cast from shattered windows. Dust and dirt caked the floor, a few lights still on, but flickering with the threat of failure. Bottles were cluttered on top of the fridge, demonic dust upon the floor and old loveseats overturned, this room had been a battlefield not but a few days ago. 

The phone began to ring, an antique that somehow had remained in one piece. Vergil bent down, picking the whole phone up before lifting the receiver.  

“Hello? Is this a Mr. Tony Redgrave? This is the emergency services; can you confirm your name? Are you in need of emergency care?”

Vergil pulled the cord from the wall and tossed the phone onto one of the couches. He paced the room, lost in his thoughts before opening the door to the bedroom. Inside was a mess of old clothes and soda cans. Vergil even thought he saw a mouse slip from the bed and under a pair of boxers.

Stepping carefully, Vergil moved to a bookshelf. Nearly empty it had vulgar magazines and a melted sunday scattered on it. Wondering if Dante’s half demon heritage had kept him alive through the improper nutrition and germs, Vergil reached up and pulled out a large old book that seemed alien to this room as a whole.

The title read ‘The book of Los’,

Upfolding his Fibres together to a Form of impregnable strength,

Los, astonish’d and terrifièd, built furnaces.

He formed an Anvil, A Hammer of adamant, then began

The binding of Urizen day and night.

Vergil closed it, seeing the name ‘Blake’ on the spine. For a moment Vergil felt a little lightheaded and sat down on the dusty bed. His anger over his defeat and more over the sense of loss overwhelmed him, drowning in his own waking nightmare.

Pizza 1, Pizzeria and Deli

It might have been superhuman how much pizza Tony could eat. Lady had expected him to be hungry, but six large pizzas with different combinations was extreme. She herself had settled for the alfredo, much to Tony’s chagrin.

“Who gets pasta at a pizzeria?” he laughed, opening wide for another piece. “So how has it been hanging?”

“Killing demons and on the hunt for my father,” she said a little colder than she meant.

“Arkham…” Tony gasped half choking on food.

“We had a little family time after you threw him out, but part of him is still loose in Hell.” Lady sat back wishing they served anything harder than a soda. She looked at the two other customers, who she was hoping weren’t going to listen about demons and Hell. “What about you? I’m paying for the dough and grease, where have you been since Mallet Island?”

“Vergil told you about that?” Tony asked, freezing in place. It was strange to notice how hollow his eyes had become. “That was bad times. Mundus in my head, serving as his knight.” Tony clinched his fist tight. “He wanted me to feel his anger, his hate for the betrayal. Every moment, every breath was painful and all in the name of revenge on my father. At some point, I stopped thinking, stopped being me and only the dark knight remained.”

“It took Vergil a long time to tell me the truth of it all,” Lady admitted. “For a long time I tried to find you, or some sign that you were alive. Figured I owed you that at least. Then when we traveled into the Demon Realm, we searched for you and ‘him’. But despite our best efforts, we couldn’t find you.”

“We… I… he?” Tony seemed confused. “We didn’t want to be found. After I fused with Mundus a new torment was inflicted on me, but at least I could hurt him. The monster created by us, he was a being of pure hatred, the one thing we shared.”

Sixteen Years Ago – The Demon Realm

The creature expanded and retracted. A vaguely humanoid shape formed, dragging the flesh tendrils and nerves behind it. White hair spiked out of its skinless head and its three glowing eyes in thrust back into its head. With a deformed hand it pulled the Rebellion from its chest, the blade breaking off inside. As the handle hit the ground, it began to slide towards the mixture of blood and sea water that was the collapsing portal.

“The pain…” came multiple voices. “How could this happen, the disgrace, human pain… doesn’t taste so good does it? SPARDA!!! SPARDA!!!!!”

Pieces of Rebellion shot out it’s back. The metal still hot within the creature, it drew a clawed hand across an ivory pillar and breathed a death raddle.

Hatred for humans, for Sparda and his sons, hate for demon kind, for themselves, this burning feeling was all that Dante and Mundus could refine into a common feeling.

“My lord!” came a shrill voice.

It turned to see a skeletal figure swathed in a black robe. It held a glowing staff and its little red eyes were watching.

“Lord Mundus what have they done to you?”

“Mundus…?” it growled. Its arm stretched and pulled the creature closer, metal shifting through its flesh. “I am not Mundus! I AM… I AM!!!” With a crunch the demon’s head collapsed under the pressure and its flesh began to merge with its own.

“Darkness round Los: heat was not; for bound up,” it quoted a moment before it’s head twisted completely around to stare at the portal to the human realm. With a crack it began to close, taking demons and pieces of the Flesh-Hell with it. “Ego te absolve, la plume de ma tante.”

The darkness of Hell took hold, and the creature began to drag itself forward with a lurch. “All that I see, absolute horror. I cannot live, I cannot die…” the creature sang to itself, twisting and losing shape again. “

“And so that creature traveled the ladders of Hell, taking out it’s pain on anything it could. Demon on demon, horror after horror and through Ice, Fire, Blood and Stone, it climbed and absorbed all life into it’s twisted shape. First a bloated demon of flesh, then a mass of gluttony and destruction.”

“The voice of Mundus and The Son of Sparda became muddled as its power grew. Los slowly became Hell incarnated, the sea of demons crying out in pain and no sense of self anymore. But as that fat creature ran out of prey, it’s burning hate was all it had left. And then… he came.”

Six Months Prior

“Oh great blob, oh great lord of fat and waste, ohhhh great master of nothing and eater of Hell!”

A jester in black stepped within sight of the countless eyes. Tendrils and fleshy hands, traveling across the floor. Waving his little staff, the Jester summoned a wall of black flames. It felt like a pathetic attempt to protect himself.

“Now now now now… you don’t want to eat me! It’ll throw off your diet!”

The vast and monstrous shape lurched forward. If it had been in a large city, it could felled skyscrapers in its wretched wet crawl. The Jester was a fly, about to be crush.

“You have eaten almost all of Hell! What happens after that? Nothingness? Hunger? I know what you should do! I know of the greatest feast of all! Do you know of the fruit of the Qliphoth? Power unlimited, enough to fill you up! human and devil realms all ready for you to consume!”

The creature froze, mass moving around the Jester. Some distant memory seemed to stir from within. More of a vibration than a voice boomed “How! Where?”

Hate churned within, hate for anything, for anyone, the only emotion left to the mass of demons. But it wanted this fruit.

“I thought it had been destroyed! But you only need one of Sparda’s blades and you can crack the seal.” Jester nodded happily, seemingly proud of himself. “I know where a rip in the realms is nearby. “Come come, let me show you! Find you a weapon we will!”

The Jester led the slow moving flesh to the top of a bloody hill. There in the middle of the open air was a long shadow, big enough for someone to fit through. In that rift different places and shapes shown through distorted images.

“See, a perfect escape route,” The Jester smiled. “Only, you are far too big to fit through there.”

The many voices within the flesh boomed and it raised itself high above the Jester, a mountain of bloody grime.

“Wait! Just grant me some of your power! Give me a few souls and good Jester will go retrieve you the Sparda blade or the Rebellion… maybe even the Yamato? I cannot leave this realm on my own…”

There was only a moment for Jester to realize it was not ready to compromise. In an instant the flesh closed in, and the pain of Jester was swallowed along with his corpse. The flesh began to hum, heat rising from within. Moans cried out and a primal plan formed.

“He’s… dead…” Lady muttered. “All that time wasted…” She didn’t want him to see the tears, so she pretended to sneeze and grabbed at napkins.

Tony looked from the pizza to her. “He was already dead, that thing was just his ghost. I… you deserve to move on.” His raw emotion that showed might have felt more touching if Tony didn’t have pizza sauce around his mouth. “I couldn’t even bring back your cannon..”

“It’s fine,” Lady played it off waving her hand. “You can pay me back when you get working again.”

“There is so much work to be done,” Tony said darkly. The gaunt face looked off into nothingness. “He is coming.”

“Who?”

“Los… the embodiment of Hell.”

“Aren’t you… him?” Lady asked confused. “I don’t think you are in any condition to be hurting anyone.”

Three Months Prior

The creature began to change, body convulsing and a deep bass tune coming from within. Blood began to boil, leaving a red steam in the air. Blood and souls were concentrated, solidified. In its state there was no way for something made of the very fabric of Hell to leave, so it became a demonic womb for new life emerged from it.

Tony grabbed his face, hair hiding it as his knuckles turned white. “I remember becoming aware, being rejected. You aren’t suppose to remember being born, but as my bare skin slid through the blood and sick, I saw others. My siblings were mostly wraiths, memories of what they were and devoid of real substance, but… among us I sense him…”

The flesh slammed into the tear between realms, pushing flesh and blood through it. The blob shook, convulsed and forced it’s essence through.

“I… and others slipped out through the gap. Under… in the sewers, bodily fluids rushed into the water… rejected for my humanity, naked and alone…” Tony thrashed in his seat digging his nails into his skin. “What have we done? How am I alive?”

Lady stood up and grabbed the thin man. He cried out and began crying into her shoulder. “They are coming… coming…”

As she patted his shoulder Lady looked at the other customers staring at them. She mouthed some curse words at them and helped Tony up.

“Come on, you can crash on my place. A shower and you’ll be yourself in no time.” Lady tried to reassure him, feeling she could carry him at this point.

Five Months Later – Outside Fortuna

“Hell Yeah!” Nero shouted leaping off the van and landing a boot in the face of a lizard demon.

It slid down the dirt road wailing as Nero revved his new sword, a flame hot blade buzzing with life. The Son of Vergil was wearing a purple leather jacket that he kept zipped up, keeping the hood down. From the trees around him, more lizard-folk emerged, some with thick plates on their back and others drawing short swords.

“You there Jet?” Nero called into a his radio, getting into battle stance.

In response distantly there was a crack. The demons were pelted with large caliber rounds meant for taking out tanks.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

As the lizards were shredded, three more men dressed in white and holding flaming weapons came to stand with Nero. Two of them wore hoods, but the last was bald with little horns protruding from his chin.

“You taking all the fun?” the spiked man asked in a distorted voice. “Why does Credo even send us? Not because we are cute.”

“Don’t pout,” Nero said with a smirk. “We can’t all be talented and pretty.”

One of the lizard demons ducked and weaved the shots. Red energy glowed from it, and it began teleporting left and right, crimson blades blazing to life.

The Fury leapt at Nero who blocked the attack, flames spraying as he swung into the empty air.

“Watch out!” one of the hooded men shouted, sparks flying as the creatures weapon met his demonic flesh.

“Take care yourself first!” Nero warned and took another swing. The creature was so fast he only had a moment to realize where it was landing.

With a click the metal sword folded in, flames going blue, Nero brought down the now axe head and sent a wave of dirt and fire towards it.

The Fury stumbled, but still vanished at high speed. Nero planted his foot and twisted around. Just avoiding his allies, the Purple Bishop extended from axe to spear and took off the demon’s right arm.

Freezing in pain, the Fury had no time to recover, as a small flaming sword took its head off and the spiked demon hunter pumped his fist.

“Walt! You kill stealing bitch!” Nero let out.

“You win some you lose some,” Walt told him his eyes flashing yellow as he smiled.

The hunters joked and made a lot of noise as they moved down the bloody road. It felt like they were in a contest of who could string together the most curses. Ahead an old abandon church stood with a faint glow within. It looked like someone had an old lantern and was taking shelter.  

“Spooky,” Walt said quietly.

“This one is mine,” Nero said and pointed at him.

“Got visual Jet?” Walt called into the radio but no response came.

Nero approached the large oak doors and he motioned for everyone to search the parameter before pushing his way in.

A single cloaked figure stood before the stained-glass window. He had massive shoulders and turned to look at Nero, a lantern in hand.

“Church is on Sunday,” Nero said and drew the Blue-Rose, both barrels aimed for the target. “You a demon?”

“The foul blood of Sparda still pollutes this world… disgusting,” a deep voice rumbled the boards around them.

“So that’s a yes,” Nero frowned.

The figure threw back his hood, revealing a head that looked like it was carved out of marble. Three red eyes burned within that face, hate pouring out.

“I shall rip out thy heart!” Mundus cried and drew a long golden blade from nothing. He shot forward and ran the sword through one of the thick oak doors.

“A little over the top” Nero called flipping over the former emperor and blasting a hole through the stone body.

“Coward! Insolent cur!!” Mundus cursed and swung wildly.

Though his cuts shredded pillars, pews and could have toppled a normal human from pure force, Nero just ducked and weaved, firing round after round into him.

“JUST DIE BASTARD!!!”

Grasping with both hands, Mundus bathed the room in white light. Nero drew his sword, stopping the attack inches from his face. Despite the thinness of the golden blade, it still dug into Nero’s own.

Thinking how Nico was going to yell at him for not taking care of his shit, Nero took a step back. The sword shifted into a scythe propelled by flaming thrusters and sent blood, stone and gore flying as Mundus fell. He'd nearly gutted the demon, shifting the scythe to axe form and holding it like a baseball bat.

“So you are Mundus right?” Nero asked cocking a smile. “I thought you'd be taller.”

“I am eternal, I am the Emperor of Hell, I am…” Mundus gasped, his three eyes moving wildly. He slipped back, blood running from his lips.

Nero sighed as rain began to fall outside. Mundus struggled to stand but his knees gave way. The devil king was unable to even pick himself up, unable to fight his foe.  

“Vergil will be mad he didn’t get to kill you himself,” Nero sighed. But before he could deal the blow, the doors opened behind him. “Walt?” Nero began but it clearly wasn’t human as it ducked under the doorway.

Nero felt a chill, wondering how a demon could have got in or that nobody had rushed in to help yet. His eyes trailed up, the huge figure straightening nearly to the ceiling.

Its skin ranged from blackened red to orange, a neon glow revealing glimpses of energy within. Countless mouths were in its chest, arms, shoulders and even knees. Each shifted as the face looked down at Nero. Containing two glowing neon eyes of purple, it smiled to reveal a mouth full of fiery fangs. It had two long horns nearly scraping the ceiling of the church and two that came down around its face.

Nero instantly sensing it’s intention, revved the axe to max power. Without raising its hand, the demon stepped forward into the attack. The sword never made contact, the Purple Bishop’s blade snapping off the hinge and pistons pulled apart as it flew across the room.

The phantom Rebellion flared into life behind Nero, his eyes beginning to glow. But faster than him, the demon shot forward and grabbed Nero’s neck. The spectral fist bounced off it, the red demon choking Nero with one hand and the other grabbing Nero’s demonic right arm.

Lightning flashed outside and Nero felt the terrible claws digging in. Expecting his arm to be pulled out of the socket, he lost all feeling in it. Nero heard a crack and flesh tearing as he screamed. He kicked, slammed his fist and elbow into the hot flesh. Effortlessly Nero was flung through the wall and out onto the wet grass. The world was spinning as Nero slid through mud and dirt, numbness and cold spreading up him.

Los stood statue like holding Nero’s arm. He had ripped it from the shoulder, a demonic arm dripping blood upon the church floor. Mundus looked up at the much taller demon, his body still unable to move.

“That damned sword…” Mundus managed. “The cursed blood of Sparda…”

Another flash and crack of thunder, the arm was now the Rebellion. Small in the hand of Los, the skull in the cross guard let out a cry and the weapon began to be covered in shadows. Holding it like a dagger, Los raised it to Mundus’ chest.

The Emperor’s mane of white hair was matted with blood. “I shall see you in your nightmares!” Mundus told coughing.

Los scrawled and opened a mouth with multiple sets of teeth, letting out a roar matched by Mundus through bloody teeth. Runes formed on the floor, a pentacle encircling the two. Glowing and sparking the air was alive with evil energy.

Nero grabbed at where his shoulder should be, blood spraying out through his hands. He let out a yell of horror as behind him the church exploded. Sprayed with splinters and glass, Nero rolled to grab his radio and went limp against the base of a tree. Caked in mud and rain beating down on him, he called out the first name that came to him.

“CREDO! I NEED HELP!”

Chapter Text

Devil May Cry 5

When the Temen-ni-gru had awakened it had caused untold amounts of damage and death. But after uprooting buildings and unleashing demons upon the citizens, it had sunk back into the earth. Now for miles around the crater the city was sealed from the public. Excavations had been running consistently since and the very top of the devil-tower had been exhumed. The unearthed doors were magically sealed, despite no other sign of demon or human.

 Leaping over the wire fence two thin figures were only visible in the city lights for just an instant. Pulling out a flashlight the first figure lit up the overshadow, revealing Tony. He still had the studded leather jacket but was dressed a little nicer with a red bandana on his neck. He looked healthier than five months ago, but he was still thin and gaunt.

“Nothing like a little trespassing,” Tony said with a sneaky smile.

“I wish I could be as OK with being here as you,” Lady grumbled drawing one of her pistols. She had a white jumpsuit and military vest on, a small machine gun hanging from a strap across her shoulder and more than a few grenades. “This is nothing, but bad memories for me.”

“Family reunion, making new friends and I killed a giant demon whale…” Tony nodded his head as if agreeing with himself. “Still better than how I spent my twenties.”

The top of the tower was the same as before, except for being in the ground, as opposed to the clouds. The bells that had welcomed demon kind, now sat in ruin under tents. Without question, countless researchers were trying to figure out who made these and what they were made of.

 The ancient mechanism that was built into the tower itself had been damaged by the release and resealing. Now useless, the Temen-ni-gru only served to be a relic of the past.

“How many more after this?” Lady asked opening a large bag to reveal C4 charges. “Mallet Island isn’t much more than a few rocks now.”

“Well, there is Marli, Fortuna and Mallet…” Tony walked over to one of the bells and grim skeletal statue. Sloth had been carved into it by some bestial claw. “Not too many places the layer between realms is weak.”

“Tonight, we are getting lo mein,” Lady told pulling out a trigger. Without a care she spun it, threw it into the air and caught it.

Tony let out a disappointed moan placing the charges in a neat little circle. “I thought it was my pick tonight? Remember we got sushi yesterday?”

“It’s my money.”

The explosion set off a few car alarms and sent pieces of stone flying everywhere.

A small hole had blown into a lower chamber, an old smell making its way out and hollow echoing went down within it.

Wasting no time, they leapt down onto a set of stone stairs. Behind them the sealed door was set with runes from long forgotten languages and two crystal skulls. Whoever discovered this next would doubtlessly be finding the archeological find of the century.

“Can we get crab rangoons?” Tony asked as his stomach rumbled.

“Maybe,” Lady muttered lifting her flashlight. There were piles of scythes and black rags at the bottom of the stairs, hinting at previous battles.

From above police sirens began echoing down into the halls. No doubt escape would be an effort too.

“That was fast,” Lady complained.

Pulling open the next door, they were greeted by a wall of dirt and rock. Lady let out a string of curses and ripped open her bag for more explosives.

The ancient text engraved on the walls would have been considered priceless. But without care they blasted into a long chamber, that went down countless stories. Before there were pads that glowed red, ready to propel someone upward, but now the magic had long since died out.

“Even pops magic doesn’t last forever,” Tony said stepping out to look down. He pulled a light stick from his belt, gave it a snap and tossed it, before back flipping off to follow it.

Lady rolled her eyes and looked over. The light and the shape of Tony went down and down, till with a twist he spread his arms. Around him and under, a greenish black shadow twisted into a hand and caught him. Tony safely stepped with a bounce onto the stone floor, and the hand vanished into nothing.

“Show off,” Lady added as she repelled down beside him.

The next set of oak doors led to the library. The circular room contained histories long forgotten and knowledge of the demonic ways of old. However, many of the shelves were in ruin, damage to ceiling and floor speaking of an explosive battle.  

“Remember last time we were here?” Lady asked managing a small laugh.  

“It’s where you fell for me isn’t?”

“Fuck off.”

Shoving Tony aside, Lady turned and moved through yet another set of doors. This time, it was a room full of gears and pistons. Before it had been a big part of the twisting the tower did, the large screw rising through this part. But now it was dark, dusty, and felt like the air was getting heavy.

“How far down you want to look?” Lady asked, turning her flashlight on Tony. He however raised a hand for silence and walked closer to the drop off.

Once again, he tossed the light stick off the edge, only for a dark shape to intercept.

“That’s not good,” Lady said slinging her rifle to her hands.  

“Not good is a way to put it,” Tony nodded.

There was a squeak and clicking as large insects began climbing up the platform. They looked like a pale fleshed ant, with red claws and useless blue wings on its back. However, most disturbing of all was the three faces on its head, human-like faces.

Tony drew out his revolver and fired, at the same time Lady let a torrent of bullets riddle through it. It exploded into gore and crumpled on the ground. The Empusa began to decompose at a rapid rate, sick black blood pouring out.

“That was my kill,” Tony complained.

“I don’t remember those things,” Lady said and let another wave of bullets rip into the darkness. The crack and splatter were enough to say she had hit something.

“There shouldn’t be anything here,” Tony agreed as he spun the revolver. “And there aren’t many demons left in Hell itself. So… these could have been sealed in with the qliph…”

Out of the stone floor large roots burst out.  They whipped wildly, a large hollow barb on their end dripping green liquid.

Lady rolled and fired a straight line cutting the root off. Tony danced back, seeing more wriggling up the platform.

“This what we were looking for?” Lady asked pulling a pin. The room burst into brightly colored flames and the roots twisted in pain.

“Yeah, this is the spot,” Tony said a little breathless as he dodged a vine and fired his gun. “These gotta be it.”

“Great, let’s get the fuck out.”

Retreating into the library, the vines had no issue tearing through rock and stone to get at them. The Empusa stumbled after but weren’t coordinated enough to deal with the floor crumbling.

Not wasting time, they entered the tall heaven-rise chamber and Lady grabbed at her rope. “This isn’t going to be fast enough,” she warned fastening the rope into a metal device on her side.

“Then I’ll buy us some time,” Tony announced, stood up straight and clapped his hands together.

Lady frowned, disapproval in her eyes as she looked at Tony. Red sparks climbing up his body, his long hair blowing in a breeze that she couldn’t feel.

“I knew you would call me…” rasped a voice as the stone floor began to glow and a burst of lava shot out.

A spider the size of a large dog circled around Tony, each step sounding like stone meeting stone. Inside its eyes, mouth and back, a fiery lava glowed.

“Can you distract them my fine spidery friend?” Tony asked, stepping over to let Lady put an arm around him and clicking the motor on.

“I’m a scorpion ya prick,” it shot back as they ascended the rope. “No appreciation, no appreciation.”

Phantom unleashed hot magma on the door, sealing it as it cooled. Vines crashed through the floor, and he leapt up onto the next platform, before breathing fire down onto the tangle of blood sucking barbs.

“It’s getting hot in here!” Tony announced, looking down.

“Keep your clothes on,” Lady grumbled.

Reaching the top, they could see the fiery scorpion losing more ground and climbing further up before leaping to their level.

“That’s all I got,” it told them.

Running back to the hole they had blown into the tower, Lady and Tony paused to see a swat team, guns aimed at them.

“Don’t move!” The one in the lead called to them.

“I thought the police always said ‘freeze’,” Tony asked before a crackle underneath them unleashed the vines on the surface.

It was pure chaos, the Qliphoth roots tore out of the ground and began to suck the blood out of anyone it could find. Their bodies turned deathly pale and then dissolved into a shell of small roots that had traveled down each vein.

“Evacuate!!” and “RUN!!” echoed as the roots began to spread. Screams and cries rang out, as gunfire filled the night.

“This is going to be a warzone!” Lady said firing at nearby growths.

Tony clicked open his revolver and looked at the empty chamber. Slapping it shut, energy covered the gun and he fired a bust of light that cut straight through a vine, then veered to the left and exploded into another.

“You shouldn’t overexert yourself,” Phantom said clomping over. “If you die, I won’t last long.”

“We need to get equipment. Bring in the big guns from home,” Lady said walking past the small demon and kicking some dirt up on him. “We are going to need the big guns.”

“I’m walking here!” Phantom complained, but inside Tony’s head that same voice whispered. “If we are sneaky, we could steal the fruit of the Qliphoth for ourselves. Restore you to full power and then some.”

“I think it’s time to call Vergil,” Tony said and stretched his arms. “The party is about to get crazy.”

Vergil held a bouquet of flowers in the waiting room. His suit was blue, almost black, with a royal purpld vest and sky-blue cravat. His small round sunglasses hid his eyes as he stood awkwardly among the normal people. 

“You’re his father?” the nurse asked looking up at him.

“I am,” Vergil nodded.

“And his mother?”

“Not in the picture.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow at him. “So, you’re single?”

“Yes I am.”

The nurse seemed to be waiting for something, but Vergil didn’t look at her. Stepping to the door he opened it to see Nero doing one armed pull-up.

“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard,” Kyrie managed before seeing Vergil. “Mr. Vergil!”

Vergil looked from the scowling Nero to Kyrie and then his flowers. He had a moment to change course and held them out to Kyrie.

“For you.”

“Thank you! They are so pretty!” Kyrie blushed.

Vergil forced a smile and sat down, all the while looking at Nero’s bandaged chest. The arm had been horrifically torn off, shoulder and all. Nero’s rapid healing saved his life but didn’t restore the appendage.

“The demon that did this to you… describe him to me.”

Nero sat on the bed messing up his hair. He looked like he wanted to hit something but settled on tossing one of the pillows.

“Tall red, lots of mouths. It all started with an investigation into an abandoned church. Then Mundus was there “

“M… Mundus?” Vergil half whispered. The look on his face made Kyrie wince.

“Little taller than me, looked like Santa in a bathrobe?” Nero asked and winced in pain. “Pretty sure the other guy blew him up with the church.”

Vergil stood up again and began pacing.

“Everything smooth, I had it under control,” Nero told. “Then boom this fucker tossed me like a ragdoll.”

“Mundus?” Vergil said as if it were truly sinking in what his son had said. “You saw Mundus… and the other devil wasn’t on his side?”

“No, they didn’t look like buddies to me.” Nero paused and seemed to be thinking. “So, this has to do with Dante. You told me he and Mundus fused… was the red guy Los?”

“That would be safe to assume,” Vergil said still as a statue. “He’s in our world now and needs to be stopped.”

“Good, I am down. Let’s bust this bitch!”

“Nero!” Kyrie called wide-eyed. “You are still healing!”

“Kyrie… it’s family stuff. I can’t not go,” Nero told rubbing his neck. “Besides I’m going with Vergil, he can protect me… right?”

Nero turned only to find Vergil was gone, only the flowers confirming he had really been there to begin with.

Outside the hospital Vergil unbuttoned his jacket and moved towards his car. The door swung upward to the sky and Vergil slipped in. Adrenaline was pumping in his veins, knowing he had to find Dante before this went too far.

The old buildings of Fortuna began to fade in the distance as Vergil sped onto the highway. He was about to check out the ruins of the church when his cellphone went off. Not minding the ‘unknown’ he flipped it open and held it to his ear.

“V speaking,” he said curtly.

“Meet me at your place,” Lady’s voice said quickly. “Before I break in.”

Vergil cut between a few cars and went down the ramp, ignoring the honking. With a few turns he was back in Fortuna and pulling behind the orphanage.

“Whoa cool car,” one of the young boys said coming out.

“Kyrie and Nero aren’t here. I hear he’s missing an arm,” another told.

“H… hey Vergil, how’s it hanging,” Nico asked waving a mechanical arm. “Just a few more hours and I’ll have Nero a new fun time hand. How’s the goof looking?”

As she said the word ‘looking’ Nico trailed off, eyes wide as Vergil stepped out from behind the car holding the Yamato.

“He’s angry, per usual. Please watch my car and don’t let Nero do anything stupid with it.”

Vergil tossed the keys to Nico, who was still wide eyed. Drawing the Yamato, Vergil took two swings before vanishing into the portal.

The was a snap as the portal closed and outside his apartment door was Lady, waiting arms crossed.

“You could have more security,” she commented and yawned.

Vergil took out his key, the entire building revealing glowing blue eyes and runes. Unlocking the door, the magic faded, and he motioned for her to go first.

Vergil said very little as he popped a wine bottle open and poured it. Lady made herself at home, stretching out on the couch.

“I take it this is important?” he asked, offering her the other glass.

“I wouldn’t bother you with anything else,” Lady smiled. Instantly Vergil could tell something was wrong and she was nervous. “I… have a client who gave me a tip. I investigated and well, turn on the news.”

Taking a large drink, Vergil grabbed a remote and turned on the TV. It only took a channel flip to see the vines and carnage taking place. He instantly recognized the city, years prior Vergil himself had unleashed Hell upon it.

“…are trying to seal off the city and get people to safety. The national army has been called in, but nothing seems to be able to stop…”

Vergil muted the TV and turned to Lady. “Who is your client?” There was a cold anger that reminded Lady too much of the first time she had met him.

“No idea, never met him in person. But he wanted me to deliver this to you.” Lady walked over and inserted a disk into a player.

The TV was static for a moment, then a figure behind a red veil sat down.

“Good evening Vergil,” came a distorted voice. “I’ve sent Lady to deliver this message to you.”

Vergil glanced at her and saw her visibly flinch.

“As you should know by now, Los has come to the mortal realm. He has unsealed the devil tree, the Qliphoth. His goal is the consume everything, unleashing his hatred for demons, humans and life as a whole upon innocent people. The Qliphoth will seek human blood until it produces the same fruit that allowed Mundus to rule Hell.”

The shadowy figure shifted and pointed towards the camera.

“I expect you will come; he is your brother after all. Your soul will know what to do.”

The room was dead silent. Vergil didn’t look at Lady, only opened a cabinet and poured himself another drink.

Lady ejected the disk and drained her glass. “This is the big one, the real battle we knew was coming.”

“I’ll ask once,” Vergil said eyes gleaming under a heavy brow. “For the sake of those months we spent together in Hell… are you telling me everything?”

Lady froze in place, her face tense. “No.”

Vergil took a deep breath and swiped his hair back. “I am going to need to make some calls.”

Tony walked quietly down a back alley. There was still panic as people tried to escape the city, roots tearing through the streets in search of blood.

He and Phantom had fought a bundle bulging with blood, as it tried to tear into a bus of citizens. Only thanks to a well-aimed shot and the flaming arachnid carrying them to safety had they avoided yet more death.

Even from here, Tony only had to look over his shoulder to see the bundle of roots rising into the sky.

Stopping, Tony peeked through an open back door. The smell of greasy food and bread filled his lungs, but also metallic blood.

There a creature of electricity stood ripping open an oven. It’s shape fluctuated between a tall man in a long coat and a similarly built demon. The creature grabbed a burning hot pizza out of the oven and began shoving it into its mouth.

“You feel that? It’s like us, part demon, part human… a shadow of ‘him’,” Phantom growled.

Tony didn’t respond, only reached behind him and pulled out a long silver spike.

“You didn’t save me any?” Tony called. The electrical man turned and a single red eye glowed from within. “Dick move.”

With a flash, it became a large bat and flew at Tony. The two became locked, spinning into the air as bolts of red energy fired into the sky.

As his flesh was scorched by the electrical shape wrapped around him, Tony got his arm behind it and jabbed the spike through its back. There was a flash and bolts of lightning fired in every direction.

“Show off is going to get us both killed,” Phantom complained climbing onto the roof. Leaping, he caught Tony between his legs and crash-landed on another building.

Tony sat up and pushed his hair out of his face. The electricity around them disappearing, a black tattoo climbing up his arm.

“Whoa… yea…” Tony managed smoke coming off his clothes. He felt his heart thundering inside his chest and added, “Kickstart my heart.” with a weak laugh.

As he laid back on the familiar, Tony watched a new bolt of lightning travel across the sky. It seemed to travel unnaturally and glow with a golden radiance as it came crashing down nearby.

“And another contender enters the ring,” Tony nodded. “Good… I need you to help me stop me.”

“What was that?” Phantom asked not bothering to get up.

“Shut up me.”

Los’ heavy steps fell upon the throne room of thrones and vines. A fountain of blood gushed behind him, and the glowing roots of the Qliphoth pumped harder and stronger. As the demon reached his throne and sat down, roots began to crawl upon him and pierce his flesh, pumping him full of human blood.

In his hand the Rebellion glowed with untold power. It was a long sword, even for the giant that wielded it. Los tipped the hilt towards himself, the handle ending in a crown of spikes. His glowing orange eyes looked at the missing spikes and raised a thorn covered arm to the ceiling. The roots parted and the large hand was lit by the light of the moon.

Chapter Text

You wouldn’t have known you were underground if not for the lack of windows. The room was filled with old furniture, some looking damaged, others just ancient. On one wall hung a small portrait of Eva and across from it was a family portrait, lovingly repaired. Sparda, Eva and their children, captured in time.

This storage unit was filled with Vergil’s memories. He had brought what could be salvaged of his childhood home, pieces that he liked, and things he would rather forget to rest here. Contrasting most of the furniture was a beat-up old drum set, guitars and cardboard boxes of Dante’s office.

Vergil stopped in front of a dresser and drew out two cufflinks engraved with a S. Pieces he had inherited from their father.

He pushed the pin down on a record player, the sound of a violin filling the room. Next to it was a book, with an illustration of an upside-down tree. Its roots climbed out of the ground, blood dripping from them as the top bloomed underground.

Sliding a card into a reader; there was the sound of pistons releasing. Inside the next room was a complete contrast from the last. Metal and plastics made up the walls, floor, and ceiling. Large glass displays held Devil-Arms, all of which began hissing and whispering upon Vergil’s entrance.

Ifrit, Lucifer, Pandora and more, all muttered unheard words and plots. If a normal person had entered this vault, they would have been overwhelmed and possessed by the aura alone. However, Vergil ignored them, heading for the center piece. Set upon a display of handcrafted wood, the Sparda lay at rest. As his hand took up the handle, the room went silent.

“Please help me through this… father,” Vergil asked lifting the demonic blade and feeling the hum of the power course through him.

Nero sat by the window, in a pair of pajama pants that Kyrie had brought him. She couldn’t be here all the time; Nico wasn’t the best role model for the rest of the children. So alone, Nero had been left with his thoughts.

He felt weak, useless and now… incomplete.  Without his demonic arm, it was like that fire that the devil blood had lit was now just an ember.

“Mr. Nero?” the nurse said halfway opening the door.

“Yeah, come in.”

The nurse looked nervous, glancing at Nero’s abs for only a moment.

“I have someone calling for you. He said he’s your cousin Tony,” she explained trying not to look at him and turning a little red. “You want me to put him through?”

“Sure…” Nero replied stepping towards the phone. He was more than a little confused as he thanked her.

When it finally rang and he picked up he was greeted with a simple “Hello Nero, it’s your cousin Tony.”

“I don’t have any cousins,” Nero said starting to get huffy. “Is this a prank or…”

“Right now, in Central-City the demon who took your arm is killing everyone.”

Nero went silent, his heart beating heavily.

“Vergil is heading to confront him; Credo is sending troops to fight, and they want you to sit this out like a good pup. I know we all hands-on deck and you might be the only hope we have if Vergil fails.”

In a hushed voice Nero managed “And how do I know I can trust you?”

“Don’t,” Tony laughed. “There is a private plane waiting for you outside town. Get your gear and meet me at Tony’s Pizza, there is no time to waste.”

The stranger hung up the phone and Nero let out a string of curses that would have made Kyrie faint.

“Are you alright Mr. Ne…” The Nurse froze as she opened the door.

Nero was naked, pulling on his clothes. Closing the door, it took her a few tries before she could ask what he was doing.

However, before she could look again, Nero had opened the window, leapt down two stories, and landed on the sidewalk outside. For a moment he walked like he was just part of the crowd, even as they stared at him. With a shrug he took off running for home.

Thinking of how he was going to explain this to Kyrie, Nero went past the front door and slipped under the semi open garage door.

“Nero!” Nico yelped in surprise.

He froze looking from her to the blue sports car and then a suit of armor. In an instant he recognized the armor, having fought more than a few inside headquarters.

“What’s that thing doing here?!” Nero demanded pointing at the Alto Angelo.

 “Calm your quarter demon ass down,” Nico told him casually pulling the arm off the suit. “It’s just one of dad’s armored exoskeleton, no demons inside.”

“I don’t like it being around the kids,” Nero complained looking at the large sword next to it.

The normally ornate weapon had been stripped of any unnecessary bits. On the blade itself was a naked woman just covered by a blue cloth that happened to cover any naughty bits.

“Pretty hot huh?” Nico asked with a sneaky edge. “Thought you might need a new sword. Needs some work. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”

“No time,” Nero said reluctantly picking up the sword. “Demons invading Central City.”

“Damn, Kyrie ain’t gonna like that. Can you spare fifteen minutes? We can’t have you going down an arm.”

Nico held up what looked like a metal arm. She pointed from it to the armored exoskeleton, then to Nero and gave a thumbs up.

“I’ve got a plane waiting,” Nero told her with a sigh. “No time.”

“I can get you there in plenty of time,” Nico said, dropping the arm and holding up Vergil’s keys. “Just sit down and let Nico do the work.”

A bunch of spotlights had been set atop the pizza shop. Above the door the sign had been crudely altered to ‘Hot and Ready Tony’s Pizza’ with the name Tony drawn crudely.

Along with the light show, Tony himself was placing very expensive amps that he had borrowed from the now demon free music store. In the distance the Qliphoth was stretching ever higher, pieces of Temen-ni-gru lifted with it.

Tony plugged a red guitar into the amp and began tuning it, even as gunfire filled the air. This was how the past day had gone, crumbling, earthquakes from the roots and then randomly gunfire.

“Follow the electrical woman! She’s protecting us!”

“The road is collapsing!”

Tony strummed, nodding his head and then began taking up a rhythm that thundered out the amps. He began to get faster and more technical, head banging as he played.

“For Marli!! For humanity!” came new cries. A band of hunters charged in, cutting down roots and demonic bugs.

Tony spun and began picking faster than the eye could see, his hair going everywhere as the guitar wailed.

The Marli warriors used several weapons, swords, guns and throwing daggers. Each wore the crest of the Guardians and were fighting at their hardest. The war zone was gathering all its actors to stage, ready for their scene.

“He’ll be here soon,” Phantom said curled up on an ac unit. “We need to be ready for when Vergil makes his move.”

“In a minute,” Tony said still lost in the music, behind him the sun was just setting. “The kid will be here soon.”

The portal blazed to life, Vergil stepping out onto the broken concrete and metal. He looked up at the towering bundle of roots that formed the trunk, a red cloud of darkness and steam gathered around its top where a glowing spire sat. At the base of the tree, you could look down into Hell itself, a tear in reality.

A golden spark crackled around Vergil and then exploded next to him. Fizzing, Trish stretched her arms and gave him a weak smile.

“I see you joined the party. I take it you know how serious… the damned tree and it’s fruit is?” she asked. Vergil nodded, closing his eyes. “We can’t let a new Mundus be created here. When the last fruit bloomed from this tree, it birthed an era of darkness.”

Beside Trish a silver bird like demon landed and flashed into Lucia’s human form. The Marli Guardian hadn’t age at all, wearing a much more modern outfit with jeans and combat boots. Around her a cloak with the symbol of the staff Arcana was draped, the two curved swords behind her.

“It is good you are here Vergil,” Lucia a little hesitantly. When he gave her a curt nod, she pointed upward. “If we all attack together, we can take anything.”

“I can…” Vergil began but another voice called out, announcing a new group joining them.

“Hail Guardians,” came Credo’s voice. Marching towards them was a group of hooded knights dressed in white. At their front was Credo in his knightly uniform, a golden blade at his side. “Fortuna is glad to see Marli already here.”

As Credo stepped up to join them, his brow lowered seeing Vergil and the Sparda. He straightened up and coughed into his closed fist. “The Knights of Fortuna wish to redeem our previous actions. I extend my apologies to you Vergil, for everything.”

“I don’t like crowds,” Vergil mumbled. “If the Guardians and Order would assist the people of the city, I will personally attend to the Qliphoth.”

Trish motioned to the Guardians standing in the distance. “I’ve already evacuated the citizens with Lucia’s help. Now it’s just saving the dumbasses the military sent in. Every drop of blood is feeding it.”

“The tree won’t stop here,” Credo said face frozen in it’s stern state. “Even if we pull everyone out, it will only spread out to look for more blood.

“If you join us,” Lucia said hands on her swords. “Our soldiers can form a circle around the city and try to contain it. Then we strike the tree itself.”

“It’s not that simple,” Trish added. “The Qliphoth’s roots are in our world, but it exist in both realms. To sever the tree we will have to cut it off inside the Devil Realm.”

Vergil began to walk away, disinterested. He stepped up on one giant root that had upturned the concrete and leap high into the air. As if he had flown, Vergil landed atop a rooftop and shot into the air again.

Trish shook her head, walked over to Lucia and gave her a kiss on the cheek “Let me help him, you do your best down here.”

“Don’t get in over your head. You and him might be the strongest devil hunters, but that tree feels… it feels like when Arius was possessed.” Lucia took Trish’s hands, looking into each other’s eyes.

Trish winked and Lucia was wrapping in electricity. It only seemed to ruffle her hair and clothes before it shot after Vergil.

The son of Sparda looked down into the dark void that was Hell. It was possible to see the tree’s white buds blooming below. Joining him at the base of the tree, Trish looked at Vergil and the demonic blade on his back.

“It’s ‘him’, isn’t it?”

“At least part of him. Nero encountered Mundus, so they are separated, but not their original forms. Los killed the part of Mundus that was separated.” Vergil explained.

“Then Mundus has been vanquished,” Trish quietly mused. She stood still, looking up at the demonic tree. It glowed a violent red and then dimmed into a ghostly blue. “I never really believed he could be gone.”

“He isn’t until Los is dead.”

Vergil kept moving, so Trish had to half jog to catch up. “But Dante’s in there, you can’t kill him! The Yamato might be able to separate the different demons inside Los.”

“I feel his aura, there may be no humanity left to it. If so… all there is left is to kill the devil.”

The two leapt from vine, to building and back onto the tree. Roots would spring to life, unwrapping from their stems to lunge for them. It took hours to get to the higher levels; human blood flowing upward, twisting as it was carried away. A few Empusa climbed about, but they seemed to sense that the two were too powerful for them and scurried away.

Only one demon bug dared come close. It was built more like a preying mantis, with long bladed arms and sacks filled with blood that began to glow red. Trish unleashed a torrent of lightning upon it, frying the creature as it charged at them. Before it could even hit the floor, roots shot up sensing the blood and began draining the creature of it’s fluids.

“This is really gross,” Trish exclaimed.

“Someone needs to do some pruning,” Vergil called to her from above.

“Don’t wait for me… damn.”

The next stable ground they reached was what had been the top of the Temen-ni-gru. Vergil froze, turning to look at the city far below them. Memories of Arkham reading his old tone filled his mind, followed by the clangs of the rain-soaked fight.

As the picture of Dante pierced by his own sword came to mind, the piece of the tower was pulled upward. They were moving towards the heart of the roots, a twisted heart made of demonic wood.

“Leave this to me,” Vergil warned Trish. “It’s my duty.”

“I’m coming with you. You need someone to be here for you,” Trish shot back.

Vergil flinched at how much she looked like his mother right now. “Do as you wish.”

The platform reached the heart of the roots and like a heart valve, it opened and closed periodically. The smell of blood was overwhelming, the feeling of demonic power beating around them. Vergil stepped through and thought he might choke on the air it was so filled with a dark sinister force.

There upon a throne of root, bone and flesh sat Los. He was armored in vines that were pumping human blood into him, mixing his demonic toxin into the Qliphoth. His glowing eyes flashed from purple to orange as he twisted the Rebellion in hand in a bored manner. The sword had grown large to match its user, wrapped in vines and root.

Around the sitting demon, light flared from the vines, almost like alien wires. Boiling blood bubbled in a basin behind the throne, sometimes clouting on flesh before it burst with such force it was sent in pieces crashing upon the rooted floor.

“I foresaw you coming here,” Los’ deep voice called. It was full of base and rasp but lacked the unnatural echo of the other Kings of the demonic realm. “And you brought the she-devil.”

Trish waved a couple fingers and propped against the wall. Vergil was staring at Los intensely, examining him with a hard expression. On his back the Sparda began to emanate darkness, as if sensing the threat.

“Pity makes you weak,” Devil-Vergil whispered in his ear. “You must be ready to kill.”

Vergil went to his knees, black jacket stretching behind and bowing his head. “I’m sorry Dante, for all of it. I was blinded by pain, by that darkness in my heart. If I… if we had each other, maybe we wouldn’t have fallen so low.” Tears fell onto the twisting ground. “What you have done, what you have become, I take responsibility for it all.”

Los’ eyes watched Vergil and glowed with some sense of recognition, but he did not rise from his throne. Instead he set aside the giant blade and lifted a clawed hand.

“In my restless dreams I see his childhood,” Los said clenching his fist. The room began to shake, geysers of blood erupting behind him.  “But as to what Dante felt, I do not know, nor care. I feel nothing but anger for your filthy half-blood existence. I hate that she-devil, I hate Sparda, I hate humanity and this world. I wish to see all my kind burn; I wish to see this world burn, only when there is nothing will I rest.”

Vergil slowly stood up, fixed his hair, and drew the Sparda over his shoulder. “There is nothing left to say. Unleash this hatred you feel, take it out on me Dante.”

With a wave of his hand Los let loose orbs of crimson plasma. Vergil deflected the first, then effortlessly split the next in two. Los smiled, bolts of red-light spiraling from above. Vergil dodged these, noticing how they resembled the fiery stakes of Mundus. Charging the throne, he drew a trail of dark fire down upon the devil.

Within a fanged opening in his wrist, a glowing orange blade ripped out of Los. Blocking the blow with minimal effort he called “This is the limit of Sparda’s power?”.

Vergil was sent spiraling back, finding his footing and raising their father’s sword. A dark aura flooded out and around him taking the horned shape of Sparda. Twisting and growing, it became a dragon and smashed into the seated Los.

Even as the room rumbled and shook, Los only raised his second hand to dismiss this attack. The cloud of darkness parted, and he remained still unscathed. However, the demon king gave a low grunt, forcing himself to stand. Roots tore, blood spraying out as the room seemed to moan and cry. Perhaps standing up was an acknowledgement, but he left the Rebellion balanced against the throne. He brought his open hands together and around in a circle, orange blades erupted from Los’ wrist, hissing as they burned the air.

Vergil stabbed the Sparda down into the ground and in his outstretched hand summoned the crystal-like Devil-Sword Vergil. In a flash he split into two, the human taking up Sparda, while at his side the phantom held his own sword.

Trish watched trying to remain calm as the air was thick with dark intentions and purpose. The Qliphoth seemed to lurch, the chamber tilting as tons of blood gushed in behind the throne.

Vergil leapt up spinning into the air, Los swatting the attack away easily. Devil-Vergil appeared behind to strike but the vines attached to Los’ lashed out at him. Vergil kicked off the wall, then the ceiling and drew a fiery strike down as Devil-Vergil spread his wings and lunged through the air.

“Is that it?” Los asked with a mouth full of fangs. He blocked both attacks with his bladed arms, the room distorting as the power of two Vergil’s clashed with him. “Is this the power that defeated Mundus? Argosax? You shall pay for sins of both humanity and demon kind, thus is your fate.”

“I have many sins,” Vergil shot back, his boot sliding in a pool of human blood. “And you are my greatest!”

Flying Devil-Vergil hacked at Los at extreme speeds, but Los now was not trying to block the attacks, a red glow revealing a barrier of runes around him.

“You think you have the power to strike me?” Los whispered. “Be gone PHANTOM!”  

Slapping the blades together the space around him filled with a mixture of plasma and lightning. The Devil-Sword Vergil shattered as his devil half vanished into nothing.

Vergil in response transformed himself, his devil form glowing with the dark aura of Sparda. He spread his wings, thruster like openings coming to life. Causing a sonic boom Vergil was on Los, the Sparda meeting the two arm blades.

Waves fired off them, explosions of force that were deafening. Countless phantom swords formed around Los, striking him from all angles. These met root and flesh but shattered against him as if they were brittle.

As the two met in a match of raw power, Los began to push Vergil down towards the ground. His strength and raw size were too much for Vergil himself to fight off, but from behind him a large phantom in the shape of Sparda formed, the shadow of the Sparda-sword coming down hard upon Los.

Spinning Vergil threw the physical blade, which went sailing past and cut the top of the throne clean off. Reaching out, the flaming blade of Argosax extended and crashed against Los’ body, still not piercing.

Grabbing the flaming blade, Los let out a roar turning to catch the returning Sparda sword. Lurching, the devil didn’t even see Vergil moving like a blur and jabbing a long Katana up into his body.

The Yamato cut through root and vine, till it met flesh. Demonic blood slid down the blade, but it did not go deep. Vergil in an instant felt connected to Los, expecting to sense countless demons and planning to use the Yamato to cut out as many as he could. He searched the void that was Los, all the while trying to sense the human part of him, but there was only this one identity. Whatever had caused the split had also congealed the souls and will of Hell into one mind.

Vergil went pale, faltering as Los leaned into the blade to get face to face with Vergil. “And… now… my soul is saying it won’t rest until everything is DESTROYED!”

The floor of the Qliphoth wrapped around his boots and Los brought the Devil-Sword Sparda up like a knife. Trying to move, Vergil’s shoulders felt barbs dig in as his father’s blade came down into his chest. The tip slammed into the roots at their feet and Los twisted the handle violently till there was a horrible crack.

Los shattered the handle; the sword seeming to screech and cry out. Veins and tendons whipped around violently, wrapping around Vergil’s chest like a spider. Dark flames filled the room and Trish had to shield herself with an orb of lightning.

Vergil felt as if another heart had been thrust into his body, pumping all of his blood with such force his eyes would burst from their sockets. He was only semi aware of the storm of lightning and thunder tearing through the room.

“Miserable she-devil,” Los called swinging a backhand that only just missed. “I shall tear you limb from limb, just for the crime of looking human.”

Trish raised her arms, lightning ringing out into the night’s sky.

“You talk too much,” was all Trish could think of saying.

Watching all this, a thick black liquid crawled its way out of the roots of the Qliphoth, stretching to look down upon the city.   

“He has failed then,” Tony said dropping the guitar. There was a horrible sound as the amps exploded to life. He ran his hand through his hair, looking stressed.

“Vergil?” Lady asked loading rounds in what looked like a replica of the Kalina-Ann. “Is he alive?”

“I think so,” Tony nodded. “I had really hoped he could do it.”

“If you had just talked to him, he wouldn’t have gone off on his own,” Lady sighed. “If Vergil died not even getting to say goodbye to you…”

“We’ll save him,” Tony snapped and then mouthed sorry. “We are going to need everyone if we are going to do this.”

Tony turned seeing two figures walking down the street. First was Nero, his right arm that should have been missing now armored in decorative metal. Second a bouncing lady holding a large wrench and duffel bag over her shoulder.

Chapter Text

Los lifted Trish off the ground, his hand large enough to grasp her by the head. Roaring, he flung her into the pool of blood beneath the throne. She lay broken, arms twisted in unnatural ways and not repositioning herself upon the ground, just uncomfortable stillness.

Heavy footsteps fell, the demon stepping over Vergil who was covered in a tangle of flesh emerging from his wound. The Son of Sparda seemed frozen, his eyes glowing an intense blue as he tried to cry out.

“Perhaps once we were one body… one soul… foolish half-blood. At the end of all things, I shall savor our reunion.”

With one hand, Los silently commanded the Qliphoth to open. Vines and roots parted to send Vergil plummeting downward, a fall straight towards the base of the tree and into the depths of Hell itself. Dropping with increasing speed into moonlit sky and unable to do anything to help himself, Vergil felt the veins of the Sparda invade his nervous system.

“Do something,” Vergil’s demonic half called. “Awaken!” A flood of dark energy flowing through him.

With a jolt of pain and a snap of his arm, Vergil summoned a single blue spectral sword. It fired into the night’s sky, sparkling and gleaming in the moonlight. That was all he could manage before letting darkness take him.

“Now for you she-devil,” Los called lifting the Rebellion. He seemed to consider her as he dragged the blade along the floor. “Emotions that I shouldn’t have… seem to stir, a splash upon my well of hatred. Perhaps I should honor you as such.”

The tip of the Rebellion touched her stomach, bolts of lightning reactively firing to protect her, but Los was insurmountable. Trish soon couldn’t distinguish her own voice from the countless others.

“So, you Tony?” Nero asked motioning Nicco to stay behind him.

“Yo, whats up?” Tony asked with a cocked smile. He was sitting on the counter pressing random buttons on the cash register. “You hungry? I got a few pizzas in the oven.”

“Oh hell yes!” Nicco said shoving Nero out of the way.  

Tony peeked in the oven one more time and walked over to Nero, motioning him to sit in a booth.

“So cousin?” Nero asked, putting his boots on the table. “You look like Vergil and Trish.”

“It’s complicated,” Tony said sitting back. “I’m a ghost, an outcast and I’m likely the only one truly able to kill Los.”

“And why’s that? I mean to give that bastard a piece of my mind after taking my arm.” Nero frowned patting the pauldron on his new arm.

“Because he was made by the Rebellion and can only be unmade by it,” Tony explained pulling a spike out of his jacket. “And I am the only one with a piece of it.”

Nero tapped his fingers on the table. He debated taking the stake away from him but decided against it.

“And what about Vergil? He is probably up there kicking Los’ ass six different ways. You are going to be lucky to get the leftovers.”

Tony paused, sliding the stake into his jacket. A shadow moved over his face, mood going dark.

“Vergil has already fallen.”

Nero stood up and picked Tony up by the shirt. He bared his teeth and balled his metallic hand into a fist.

“He what!?”

“Calm down kid,” Tony struggled. “I ain’t going to let papa die.”

“Put him down,” came Lady walking into the shop. She lowered her sunglasses to look at Nero. “He owes me too much money to die.”

“Oh shit is that Lady? THE Lady? The walking artillery herself?” Nico asked joining them, a piece of pizza in hand.

“That’s me.”

Nero dropped Tony who shrugged and fixed his jacket. The tension lessened but Nero was now pacing, a scowl across his face that would have made Vergil proud.

“We have time,” Tony said poking at a jukebox. “What’s important is we strike with everything we have and everyone.”

“Ohhh a classic,” Nico called picking up an old sawed-off shotgun from behind the counter.

“Hey careful with that,” Nero warned and getting a nasty look from her.

Tony picked up a box of condiments, putting a pepper shaker in the center of the table before beginning to place parmesan around it.

“Me, Lady, Nero,” he began placing each shaker. “Marli, Fortuna, Vergil… Trish… only then can I… can we stop Los.”

“Fine,” Nero grumbled. “I’ll get Credo.”

The young devil hunter stood up and headed for the door. “Nico stay here.”

“He tries to talk like he’s my dad,” Nico told rolling her eyes. “I think it’s a small penis thing.”

It had been a stressful night. Lucia sat atop a skyscraper with one leg hanging off gazing out at nothing. In the distance the Qliphoth rumbled, the sun rising directly behind it. The upside down tree's roots reached ever higher, towards some unknowable goal.

Trish still wasn’t back and Luica had spent the night watching the damned tree trying to secure the city.

The past few years her and Trish had hunted demons here or there, but Trish was happy to spend her time gambling, drinking, partying or racing. Lucia at first had followed her everywhere before realizing some of it wasn’t for her. True she liked the more modern qualities, the air conditioning and traveling by car, but not so much the busy streets and people. Sometimes their relationship had been strained, like when Matier had not only returned to train new guardians but sent for Lucia’s help.

“I can only yell at them so much, my old bones can’t show them.”

Lucia had found purpose in training and recruiting for the Guardians, even if it meant less time with her girlfriend. Trish could travel like lightning, so date nights were easy, but the time dedication was the hard part.

Lucia’s Guardians had been training religiously and doing everything their mortal bodies could. They were a selection of men and women who had seen too much thanks to Uroboros, or other demonic attacks.

With a rumble, fresh roots began snaking through the streets, dirt, and buildings to hunt for blood. Lucia stood up, feeling the sun upon her skin. She’d had enough waiting. With an arc of light, she leapt off and flashed, sending white feathers reflecting a multitude of colors in the sun flying behind her.

“Lady Lucia!” and “Help!” called out from the city. Her supernatural senses locking onto them as she glided down.

She landed before a crowd of Guardians before returning to human form in a flash of light. There was an awkward silence to the rare glimpse of her true nature, before one stepped forward and saluted.

“We joined up with a local swat team inside the library when a demon attacked. It was too strong for gunfire or our magic,” he explained as others gave similar accounts.

Lucia put a hand on his shoulder and called out “Those who can setup a parameter use the subway as a safe point and send for medics.”

While most called out various forms of ‘Yes Mamm!’ the lead asked “What about the swat team inside?”

“I’ll handle it.”

The library had been split in two, roots having come up right down the middle of the building and leaving only a few halls still intact. Lucia calmly walked through a lopsided arch to find a room covered in blood. Guardians had been torn to pieces, their swords and guns scattered about. Little vines and roots were slipping up through cracks and holes, a larger pulsating root having crawled out of a heater vent to suck at one of the bodies.

Down the hall there were whisperings, a deep voice speaking in a hushed tone.

“It’s alright now my brother, I will be with you soon… my brother… my brother.”

Lucia stepped down a ruined staircase into a circular room full of bookshelves. Stone arches on either side went up and up, a large hole in the domed roof allowing roots to climb higher and higher.

Among the bookcases that had been smashed, knocked over or cut in half was a qliphoth root, covered in blisters and spewing blood up into the air in a thick gratuitous fountain. Kneeling there was a demonic knight cupping a hand of blood and softly letting the contents flow down a blue-teal blade.

“We have a guest!” it announced and stood up. “Welcome m’lady!”

Its armor looked organic, a mixture of qliphoth root and demonic metal twisting into a horned helm. A white plume of hair spiked out the top and you could see a red and black body underneath that had teal lights glowing from within.

“I don’t think I want a welcome from you…” Lucia said walking forward and raising her sword. “You killed my men!”

The knight stood still, the room covered in bodies that had been sliced apart in various ways.  

“We apologize if we have offended you. I am Rudra and this is my brother Agni.” The knight raised his hilt, dragging the blade on the ground to reveal a horrifically shrunken and mummified face upon its pommel. It’s mouth was ajar and it's eyes stared blankly.

“We are aspects of Los, sent out to collect blood and protect the great tree. It is good to speak to another of our kind.”

“I am not of your kind!” Lucia cried out and transformed. Her six wings unfolded in a rainbow of colors shimmering through the room. Two large glowing blades of energy were held by the middle arm like wings and gleamed threateningly. “I’m more than you could ever be.”

The Knight stood up, turning the blade in his hands to look at him. “Come brother, it would seem our guest is not friendly.”

Thousands of feathers fired, gliding like shimmering lights. Most bounced off the target with just a few lodging deep enough to draw blood.

Roaring Rudra slashed the air, fire incinerating feathers as his sword cut cleanly through a bookcase. Lucia floating, her talons only grazing the ground as she began a flurry of strikes. Rudra could only block some of the attacks, but somehow they were always the ones that could have done real damage.

“I think you are venting your abstract anger on us,” Rudra commented before sending a wave of fire forth. “Perhaps there is some root cause for this aggression?”

“You killed my men!” Lucia yelled. Her dark skin could not be seen for the feathers but her eyes glowed with an icy wrath.

Rudra began spinning like a top, a cyclone of fire growing in size. Lucia felt herself pulled in, feathers bursting into flame as she dug her talons into the stone, all the while they still traded blows.

Leaping through the fire, Rudra brought his weight down upon her. He was at least twice her height and the armor had to weigh inhuman amounts of weight. The stonework cracked, the giant sword setting aflame Lucia’s wings.

“Perhaps if you were able to find more positive ways to release that pent up emoti…”

“Fuck you!” Lucia shouted and dug the tips of her wings into the eye holes in the helmet.

As Rudra cried out, she slammed her blades into his chest. Wind and fire began whipping all around her.

“Brother help me!” Rudra called.

He raised the gray zombie-like head to look at Lucia. With a kick, she sent the giant blade flying onto the stonework. She struck the tendons in Rudra’s ankles and cut deep into his wrist, disabling and forcing the demon to it’s knees.

“Brother! BROTHER!!!” Rudra cried root and metal covered in blood.

Lucia turned her blade backwards and lifted to deliver the final blow, when a horrific cry nearly knocked her off her feet. Turning Lucia saw the massive sword was spinning in midair and the mummified head was crying out in one long scream of despair. She heard the glass shatter above, then everything was drowned in this booming drone. Lucia shook, bones cracking, wave after wave of sonic pressure slamming into her. Her bottom wings couldn’t reach the sword but launched up, gutting Rudra. The demon opened his mouth to cry out, but was drowned out by his brother.

Though no other sound was heard, the head of the sword exploded into pieces. Metal and smoke spread out as the booming cry was cut off, the crackle of fire and burning flesh replacing it.

“Somebody’s gotta shut you up,” Lady called from across the room. She ejected the anti-tank round from her rifle and took aim again. “GET DOWN!”

Lucia dove down, flattening her wings and feeling the heat as the Knight exploded from his chest. Roaring became a strange rasping, then finally a whistling. Rudra toppled back, organs whipping around as horrifically large eyes began to emerge from his center. They twisted, locking eyes with Lucia as the ground vanished and she was sent spiraling down into darkness. The eyes became glowing red orbs in the distance, gravity intensifying as stars in the distance exploded in multiple super novae.

“Little man-made demon… such a mockery…” boomed in Lucia’s ears. “I can sense your insecurity… your fear. You aren’t human… you aren’t a demon… you are a puppet made for…”

“Silence!”

Lucia was floating in the void, her body frozen in the darkness. There were only those three lights in the distance, unchanging and unfeeling.

“Arius’ puppet… hahaha… Do you think Argosax was terrible? Feel my glorious splendor.”

The red dots grew large as planets, crushing Lucia under their massive weight. Any moment she knew she would be no more, not even a trace of her remaining. Lucia called out for Matier, for Trish, for anyone that could help her.

“Trish…” it whispered and began laughing, mocking Lucia. “The filth clings to each other.”

Feeling her heart race, Lucia’s whole body jolted as if electrified. From within her a lightning bolt crackled and snapped, firing into the air. Lucia was filled with a familiar presence, as the darkness split apart. For a moment the electrical storm took the shape of Trish, who gave her a sassy wave before following the storm into the sky. Above the crumbling dome shown light upon her and around Lucia the illusion had parted to reveal those three fleshy eyes.

With all her strength Lucia sliced her two crescent blades above her head and severed two of the three. Blood sprayed into the air, as Lucia grabbed the stem of the last eye. Her nails digging in as she tore it apart.

“NOOOOO!” boomed before a boot came down and smashed the eye like a watermelon.

“HOT DAMN!” A voice called excitedly. A dark-skinned girl who was smiling broadly bounced over, Lady following behind her.

“You alright?” Lady asked.

“YOU BUSTED THOSE EYES LIKE STOMPING NUTS! The other cried pumping her fist. “I’m Nicco by the way. Nice to meet you and do you have a girlfriend?”

Lucia shook Nicco’s hand looking confused and managing a “Yes?”

“That’s a-o-k,” Nicco said and motioned to Lady who was looking at the Knight’s carcass. She made several motions of fanning herself.

“We think Vergil and Trish are in danger,” Lady explained satisfied that it was dead.

Lucia’s eyes went wide and she turned to run, panic burning like fire. Lady grabbed her wrist, only for it to be jerked away with great force.

“If it’s true… we need everyone,” Lady told flexing her fingers.

“TRISH NEEDS ME!” Lucia screamed. “She just saved me and now it’s my turn!”

“I know where they both are,” came Tony’s voice as he stopped to rest against the wall. The Blonde looked like he had been running for hours. “And without everyone… you are no use to them.”

Nero moved at a fast pace down the ruined street. Looking up at that ugly tree he could tell it had grown since he had arrived, and he guessed it wasn’t anywhere near done. The buildings and roads were twisted, broken and pulled up by the roots that had glowing red sacks. Nero had a feeling they were filled with human blood, an ungodly amount of it. Despite the modern style of the city, it still reminded Nero of Fortuna after the Savior, a modern ruin. The damage demons wrought in this world was fuel enough for Nero to move faster, hunting for any sign of life.

Thankfully he didn’t have to go far before a group of knights dressed in Fortuna garb came into sight. Some of these called out “NERO!”, all looking relieved to see him. He might not be popular, but it was clear they knew he was someone to have on their side.

One stepped out from the rest, a woman all dressed up in the white hood and badges reflecting status. She saluted, before saying “Welcome to the battlefield Nero.”

“Oh hi… you…” Nero began not quite looking at her. “Maria…?”

“Lieutenant Prisca,” she corrected frowning and crossing her arms. “We took sword lessons together.”

“Right… you seen grumpy?”

“If you mean Commander Credo,” she began rolling her eyes. “Our scouts reported some demonic activity just south of the encampment. He led the primary force to investigate.”

Nero nodded a few times before cocking a smile and asking, “So where is camp?”

“He was heading for the baseball stadium,” she barked growing agitated.

As Prisca’s yell echoed through the empty streets, there came a rumble. As if in response to the sound the ground gave way underneath the lieutenant. Roots came wriggling and whipping upward, breaking apart concrete and splitting the road in two. The knights cried out; Nero stepping forward and kicking off the ground. One twist, the Purple Bishop’s motor cranked to life. Its blast was so strong it propelled Nero forward and slammed him into a root that had grabbed one of the knights. Freeing him with a skilled cut, Nero twisted into a flaming arc midair. The second twist of the handle he sliced two needle tipped vines apart and purposely bumped into a man in white, saving him from being skewered. Third blast and Nero slid back next to Prisca pulling her up by her collar.

"By Sparda,” she gasped, drawing herself up but Nero was already running down the ruined street.

“Thanks for the help Priscilla!” he called not breaking from his stride.

Chapter Text

Beating, warmth and pressure surrounded him. The descent into Hell felt slowed, as if gravity had lessened as the human realm slipped away. It almost felt like a giant hand held Vergil in a blanket of darkness.

“My mother groand! my father wept,” his inner dialogue began. “Into the dangerous world I leapt.” His fingers felt at the hilt buried in his chest, the flesh of his father’s sword bound in his own. “Struggling in my father’s hands Striving against my swaddling bands. Bound and weary…” Yes, he was weary of this world, of his own pain.

Vison blurred, he was set down gently upon the ground. The dark liquid around him seemed to unravel and begin to re-ascend by a nearby root. Now left there upon the cold stone Vergil couldn’t help but notice the presence. Not that of a living thing, something dead. Struggling to focus Vergil peered at the enormous pile of flesh that lay decaying in the demon world, reeking of preternatural and rot. Here within this filth was the base of the tree, growing out of the very flesh of Hell.

“Perfect in’t it?” Nicco asked beaming.

Tony turned the shotgun in his hand, the newly crafted barrels attached to the sawed off gleaming with two different metals. Red and green divided down the middle, engraved with both orange flames and blue swirls. Snapping it open to reveal perfect rifling, and feeling the balance, Tony clicked it closed with a smile.

“Magnifico!”

“And how you gonna pay for that?”

Tony gazed up looking like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Free pizza?”

“My work is worth a lot more than a few damned pizzas!”

“You didn’t say it would cost!”

The bickering and squabbling got louder as Lady placed grenades, clips, handguns and other weapons out on the table. She picked up her white jacket, a combo of leather showiness and tactical straps to allow her to carry as much as possible. Her bike was pulled into the back, weapons strapped to it as well as what looked like a giant battery pack.

She’d set up a radio on an old workbench, waiting for any kind of emergency broadcast or call for help. It wasn’t hard to tell Lady was on edge, this being the fourth world ending disaster didn’t really help her get used to it.

“I’m good for it, don’t worry. Besides ask Lady, she’s got the money!”

“WHAT ARE YOU, HER HOUSE HUSBAND?!”

“Quiet down!” Lady yelled banging on the wall with her hand. “And maybe he is…”

“This is unit zero zero six seven five! We encountered an unidentified demon ahead of us. It’s not like those bug thing, it’s tall armored and firing electricity everywhere! We need help! The Fortuna reinforcements pulled back and now we are by ourselves. We… the subway… Fifth street… help…”

More sounds, static and roars took over as Tony came softly into the room, Nicco pulling on his arm. “That sounds like a call for me.”

“Don’t take any risk,” Lady said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Last thing we need is you getting hurt.”

“This is all kind of sorta maybe a teeny bit my fault,” Tony said strapping the shotgun to his hip, then shrugging. “I can take some armored-up demon. Besides if the different survivors start gathering here, they need someone to watch this place. I’ll send for you if it gets too big for me.”

Lady grabbed him by the jacket, pulling Tony away from Nicco. “This isn’t like the tower. If something runs you through, you aren’t going to dance it off.”

“Then I won’t get stabbed babe,” Tony laughed weakly pulling away and shrugging dramatically. “Don’t worry I’ll put my big boy pants on!”

“Aannd we can have some girl time!” Nicco insisted, popping fully into the room.

Tony spin kicked the door open, blew Lady a kiss and shot Nicco a finger gun. Vanishing into the night, he left the two women with an awkward silence and a pizza starting to burn in the oven.

Taking out his walkman and cassette Tony bobbed his head side to side. “Don’t look don’t look the shadows breathe…  whispering me away from you.”

He picked up a long metal pipe by the door before leaving the alley, almost instantly having a large Empusa leap out. Smacking the pipe into its center face, the demon didn’t even see as a flaming scorpion dove down upon it.

Screaming and hissing in pain it melted away, Tony tossing the bent pipe aside. Phantom stamped over to him, pointing a claw at a small green-black slug crawling towards them. Tony allowed it to climb up his leg and onto his shoulder, a real smile appearing on his face.

“Alright big bro is safe.”

“That guy just refuses to die,” Phantom croaked.

Stamping his foot on the ground, Tony raised his fist in the air and shouted, “Let’s get this SHOW ON THE ROAD!”

Phantom stepped back as whispers filled the air. From cracks in the road, sewer grates or any small crevice it could squeeze out of, black liquid similar to the slug began to gather and take shape. Forming a car-sized creature it lifted Tony up upon bone white plates, screams and moans calling out of it as the Nightmare began to crawl forward.

At first it moved slowly, leaving a trail of sludge down the street as Tony posed like a surfer atop it. But it didn’t take long for it to pick up speed, shoving aside barricades and light poles before eventually it could simply fling vehicles into the air in its wake. Demonic bugs crawling on the roots or on the road screeched in fear, as a tsunami of black destruction swept them away.

Skyscrapers and buildings flew by, Tony holding his headphones on with one hand as he rearranged the streets. Curving and twisting around the buildings he heard the first sounds of gunfire in the distance, frowning at the barricades of swat vans and police cars.

The blood sucking Empusa had formed a circle around them. Queens with sacks of glowing blood, green shimmering young broods flapping in the air and drones crawling over metal to get at the swat team.

“WHAT IS THAT THING!” a soldier cried out as he turned to fire at the new target. With horror they saw the Nightmare rushing towards them and began unloading everything into it.

The slug rose up, creating a shield to protect its master, but in turn flinging Tony backward and smack into a road sign. Normally he would have landed gracefully, but his reaction just wasn’t there, only recovering after his right side had collided at full force.

The Nightmare roared some unintelligible language, sliding back into cracks, sewer grates and whatever cavity would accept it, fading from all their views.

“Can’t get any respect,” Tony moaned. For a moment he flinched, realizing his arm was out of socket before muttering “One… two…”  and with a pop, fixing it.

“Who are you and… what was that thing?” the officer demanded, looking around wildly. All around Tony they circled with guns aimed at him.

“Now now… I’m the guy who’s here to solve your demon problems,” Tony said holding his hands up and wincing.

“You?” one laughed. “He’s gotta be on something,” another commented.

“Our demon problem is an eight-foot tall, armored woman!” the nearest yelled and poked Tony in the chest. “It’s got a whole host of humans that worship the thing and if you fight back, it screeches and sends lightning at you. And that’s not counting that big robot that’s marching around downtown!”

“Robot?” Tony asked screwing up his lips.

“It’s building sized, long legs and just came crawling out of that tree. Damned thing has grabbers that tear men apart!”

“I see… that might be difficult. Can I borrow a radio?”

“Why would we…” one began, but Tony snatched it out of his hand faster than any of them could see.

“Ten Four, we got a big robot demon downtown. Sounds like that thing will need an anti-tank rifle and I think I saw some chick with one back at the pizza shop. Over and out.”

Tossing the radio into the air Tony turned away, the officer fumbling and catching it several times before securing it. They all must have thought he was crazy, because all he got was a look of shock and wonder as Tony walked past the machine-guns and rifles aimed at his head.

Nero stepped past the ticket taker stained with blood, the walls covered in evil ivy. There were strange iridescent flowers glimmering in the dark, black roots and red crystals slowly overtaking the baseball stadium. Those who had been unfortunate enough to be here had been caught by the growth, creepy veins like roots in the shape of humans. Based on the look of them, they had crawled up man, woman and child’s blood vessels before dissolving them. The underline horror of this damn tree made Nero tense, angry and on edge.

“Secure the perimeter,” came a familiar voice. Credo was barking orders ahead, standing stiffly on the field.

“Hey Credo!” Nero shouted slowing to a strut.

Credo looked out of place as he turned rigidly. His uniform was white, red and gold, his hair now buzzed. He no longer wore any weapon, a radiant commander in the middle of a baseball field. As He and Nero approached there was a moment when they might have hugged or even shook hands, but both awkwardly stood till one finally spoke.

“I sent for you when I realized how bad it was here,” Credo told formally. “Then I heard from Kyrie you weren’t home.”

“Yeah I got the call early. The bastard who took my arm is here and I’m looking to take both of his.”

Credo looked at the mechanical arm, brow tight as he considered the suit of armor it had come from.

“You fit to be out here?” Credo asked quietly.

“Kyrie didn’t like it,” Nero grumbled pulling the mechanical arm open and looking inside. “But duty calls.”

“Indeed,” Credo agreed pointing into the distance.

On the other side of the stadium a huge gray and red nest had been built. Empusa crawled atop and along it, drooling and rubbing drool to enhance the cocoon. It’s hexagonal structure covering stands, roots and spiraling up into the air.

“Our scouts reported extreme activity here. The city is infested, but within the last four hours they constructed that. Using radar from the Order we measured demonic energies off the chart.”

Not looking at Credo Nero pulled at a piston within the arm, one finger semi bending forward. He sighed reaching in and cursed in annoyance before asking “So what’s the plan bro?”.

Credo turned to the nest, an ornate golden sword forming in his hand. “The two of us are more than enough.”

“A little brotherly bonding? Alright,” Nero laughed snapping the arm closed. “Let’s kick some ass.”

The soldiers watched as they passed, Credo shouting “Hold this location!” occasionally. Nero couldn’t shake the presence ahead of them. Unlike Los or Mundus. It was almost inviting, familiar.

The demonic bugs stood at full height looking at the two, clicking, buzzing and screeching at each other. Twenty crawled out from within it, all attention on the threat incoming.

Nero slammed his sword down into a one, splattering it across fake grass. “So I ran into Prisca.”

Credo quickly jabbed his sword through an eye, twisting it. “I see. She is a good soldier.”

Boot against head, Nero twisted midair grabbing a hold of another Empusa with his robotic limb, his wrist spun 360 and broke its neck.

“Didn’t you and her have a thing?”

Credo spun a golden spear carving through enemies. Every attack wasted no movement, minimal effort and yet deadly. “No. I’m not a romantic type.”

“Have you ever…” Nero kicked one of Credo’s summoned spears, redirecting into a bloody sack. “You know…”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

Credo dashed forward slicing into the organic wall. As it tore open, they were hit by a wave of heavy energy. Credo flashed white feathers and Nero’s skin went blue for just an instant, the power clearly not of this world

“That’s intense,” Nero added stepping beside him, then smirked. “You should think about having kids Credo.”

“Are you?” Credo asked with a side glance at him.

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

Static and buzzing filled the air as they pressed in. Glistening snot covered walls formed a dome, roots tearing through its shell, wiggling and squirming till they collected in a giant pile in the middle. Every so often a glimpse of light would peek out from between them, Empusa crawling along to seal it with bile.

“What are you looking at!?” cried a wet cracking voice above. “Get out of here UGLY!”

Nero and Credo stood back to back, looking upward at the ceiling of the hive. The roots were most active here, a twisting roof of vines. A large mirror was barely hanging by wires, once part of the stadium. Staring into it was a red pulsing humanoid attached to a thick bloody root.

“It’s my gift! It fell here! GO AWAY!”

Instead of arms, the worm lifted a barb and smashed the mirror. Glass came raining down, the bug like demons crying out and taking cover.

“HEY! IT’S CALLED A MIRROR DUMBASS!” Nero called cupping his mouth.

“DUMBASS? Me? Ass?” the Nidhogg croaked out sliding down and pulsating. “WHO ARE YOU DUMB DUMB?”

“I’m the…” Nero began but a golden spear flew past his head.

The worm slammed back, blood and slime pouring out of it. The demon seemed to empty like a stabbed water-balloon, deflating and withering.

“What the hell Credo? I was going to have fun with that one!”

“Come my children mother will take care of you. Join with us in flesh, soon all will be one in both Heaven and Hell.”

Hidden away in a small park was a dais surrounded by trees. Laying upon a bench shaped grave was a blue skinned woman, only kept decent by a long black cape draped over her. She had long red and white peppered hair, metal armor plates barely covering her breast, legs and waist. Three glowing yellow eyes gleamed with some wicked thought.

She watched as various people began tearing off their clothes around her, moaning in some mixture of pleasure and pain. The supernatural beauty and aura was thick, bewitching and evil. Beyond the foliage you returned to the metal and concrete of the city, unaware of the crazed ritual being performed.

“You make getting absorbed into a flesh blob sound sexy,” Tony said hands stuck in his belt as he strutted in. His long blonde hair blew behind him lit by the moonlight, almost seeming white. “Didn’t we have like a one-night stand or are all demons so pretty?”

Sitting up Nevan snapped her fingers and those who had been worshipping her began tearing out their own throats. They made sickening wet cries, then there was silence as crimson spilled upon the grass. Nevan’s eyes narrowed, baring her teeth to reveal sharp canines.  

“I remember you pretty boy,” she said sitting up. “You are the one who turned me into a guitar?!”

Seeing the offended look in her eyes Tony gave a dumb smile. “Come on it was good times and you said you wanted to help me. How did you escape the whole absorbed by the dark lord thing?”

Nevan had risen to her feet, slowly pacing around him. Her hands clinched into fist, blood dripping from her fingernails digging in.

“Our lord chose me among the millions of souls to go out and see that the humans give their blood to the Quliphoth. I am free of him, free of that tower, free of Hell! I shall not go back to being a toy for a mere child!!!”

Raising her hands lightning crashed around them, black birds blocking out the night sky. Nevan in a cloud of her darkness cracked with energy, slashing her arms and flinging bolts of red-purple lightning at Tony. Each snap filled the night above with a violent flash and echoing boom.

“I forgot how scary you are when you’re mad,” Tony laughed rolling behind a tree as lightning cracked around him. "This is going to be a wild ride!”

Stepping out, Tony aimed his revolver and fired, landing a clean headshot. Crying out in pain Nevan only increased the storm. It looked rehearsed it was so perfect, Tony dancing as electricity crashed down where he had just been, always just missing being fried. Enraged, a black bird flew down screaming with its three faces, only for Tony to axe kick it to the ground. All of this made Nevan scream in unbridled rage, moving with increasing desperation to catch her prey.

“Ugly little boogers aren’t cha?” Tony mocked crushing the bird under foot and twisting to avoid being electrocuted. Ducking, he brought his revolver up, whipping his jacket behind him as he fired a shot directly off of Nevan’s breast.

“Unworthy CHILD!!” Nevan screamed leaping inches from him.

Swarms of dark griffons whipped about as Tony reached back and snapped up the custom shotgun.

“Ashes to ASHES!”

A wave of fire burst out of the first barrel with bright orange flames. The avian fiends ignited as Nevan whipped her hands to clear the fire. Her fingernails just grazing his face, Tony aimed the gun straight down. Pulling down the second trigger sent a greenish gust shooting forth, lacking the explosion and flare of a normal gun and sending Tony flying into the air.

“Bust to BUST!” Tony laughed twisting in the air to aim. This time he pulled both triggers and unleashed a tornado of fire upon her.

Crying out, Nevan’s voice dropped into a bass. Her head fell back in pieces as three black beaked heads ripped out of her neck. Tony caught himself on a branch and landed with a pirouette, mouthing the words ‘ugly’.

“You think you are so strong? I AM MORE POWERFUL THAN A THOUSAND DEMONS!!!” the three heads croaked out of sync.

“Stick around and find out,” Tony mocked stepping behind the tree. “Ready for round two?”

“DIEE!!” they screamed. “DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS CHILD!”

“You know, I really remember you being more fun.” Tony shrugged, lowering his defenses only an instant and being struck in the chest with a crimson bolt.

“Feel your heart explode with a million volts SUGAR!” the demon laughed, but instead of a bloody explosion, Tony’s body lost shape.

In an outline of the man, the electricity turned a deep blue and a single red eye formed in it’s face. Cracks and pops sent her own lightning back at Nevan. She raised her hands to unleash more and more powerful arcs, filling the small park with light. Red, blue, purple, white, trees were shredded and set aflame as the two figures squared off, flashes coming in rapid succession in the night sky. Through this torrent Nevan got closer and closer to the electrical shape of Tony, her middle head forming back into her own face.

“You can’t escape,” she moaned grabbing him. “Here’s to my love…thus with a kiss.”

Nevan bit down upon his throat, all electrical energy wrapping around her and absorbed. Tony’s shape was held tightly as she drained him of power, both growing dim. Finally, he fell to the ground and the shape went from Tony’s to a small blue-gray bat with one large eye looking wearily up at her.

“Thy lips are warm!” Tony announced from behind. Nevan turned, only for her entire upper body to be blasted away in chunks.

Wrapped in black shapes and blood, three large orbs emerged to glare at Tony. Shedding back a film of flesh they revealed the glowing eyes of hatred, the presence of a demon lord.

“SON OF SPARDA!” Mundus cried.

Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out a nail, a small spike from the rebellion. “Just the dark lord I have been looking for!”

With a snap Tony jabbed it into an eye and with a snap of demonic energy pulled it back. Turning it upside down he thrust it down into his own thigh. For a moment the two were glowing shapes merging and splitting, bending and twisting. Radiant light that out shown even the lightning from before domed around them.

Alone from that Tony emerged breathing hard. A single white streak went down his long flowing hair, as his eyes glowed with a scarlet power.

“You made that look smooth. Lucky Mary wasn’t here to see the finale,” Phantom said crawling out from a downed tree trunk. Beside him a small electrical bat landed and stretched its wings, looking tired.

“This is just the beginning,” Tony sighed. “I’m going to need every bit of strength if I’m going to kick my own ass. Also don’t call her that.”

Chapter Text

A bunch of roots in the shape of a man. It was as if someone had drawn a map of every vein in the human body, then recreated it in these branching tangles. If not for the jeans, shirt and jacket that still clung to it, maybe Tony could have pretended this wasn’t once a person. Or maybe the guilt would have been so palpable.

Reaching into the jacket he grabbed a set of keys, then turned to the motorbike. It was a larger bike, gray with flame decals. Attached to it was a sidecar, just big enough that Phantom climbed his arachnid body into it and settled comfortably.

“I know who you are,” came Lucia’s voice. Tony had no idea how long she’d been there, stifling anger with crossed arms. “Trish told me enough for me to guess you are Dante.”

“I’m mostly Dante. He’s broken and in many little pieces, so it’s just Tony for now.” His voice became a little weak as he avoided looking at her.

“This is Mundus’s doing. He hated Trish,” Lucia told, voice shaking with anger. “You have as much reason to hate him as anyone.”

“Los isn’t Mundus. He’s purified demonic power, from Mundus, Dante and all the hosts of Hell. But Dante’s anger, Mundus rage, those emotions were lost in the mass of demons and catalyzed into Los.”

The bike ignited, roaring to life in the dead silence of the streets. Tony mounted it, eyes glancing at Lucia.

“Why did you let them go alone? Why didn’t you show yourself to Vergil?” Lucia demanded, losing control of her temper as she spoke. “Trish… Trish is still up there!”

“Honestly… I had hoped Vergil really could do it. Then I wouldn’t have to face him,” Tony admitted. He looked at the keys of the bike, a keychain featuring some pink cartoon rabbit on it. Running his hand through his hair, Tony gave Lucia a fake smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get the kid and Vergil. Then we can all go save your girlfriend.”

Lucia’s judgmental glare burned into Tony’s back, offering no comfort as he revved the motorcycle a few times and took off into the night.

 “Admit it, there’s more to it than that!” Phantom croaked as they sped down the street. “Self-sacrifice isn’t in demon or human nature!”

Tony didn’t respond, speeding up. The city oddly still, the roots of the Quliphoth having hunted down most survivors. He turned sharply and with a bang caught the sidecar on a pole, disconnecting it from the motorcycle and sending the scorpion tumbling away, cursing and sputtering.

“Pit stop to get Pizza and bother that chick. Get the kid. Get Vergil…” Tony hissed through closed teeth. “Then kick my own ass.”

In the distance there was a metallic moan, explosions suddenly filling the air. Lady’s trap for the Gilgamesh had been sprung. Tony thought he saw Luca’s glowing shape flying towards that battle, giving him a little less to worry about.

They had no issue carving through the bundle of roots. Credo and Nero’s blade not only cutting through the serpentine wood, but once they found a bundle of red pulsating blood and burst it, the roots seemed to dissolve into ash.

An underground path led downward into a chamber that might have once been part of an older city or the sewer. Nero slid down the rocks; Credo behind him, seeing a long glowing crystal at the center of this underground pocket. It glowed with an inner blue light, crimson structures exploding out to form its shell. Little roots and pieces of the Quliphoth were still trying to get at it, but being burned away, a pile of dead Empusa all around.

“So, what’s this,” Nero said casually walking towards it. He was struck by a feeling, immense, powerful and threatening. But despite the intensity, there was a sense of being called.

“It must be the source of the activity,” Credo noted and reached out to touch the crystal, only to be shoved back by an invisible force.

Screeching and cracking, it swirled around them, massively powerful and full of demonic rage. A blue horned face formed out of that mass, roaring at them as intense fire ripped out from it.

“BE GONE!!!” it boomed shaking Nero and Credo to their core. “Unworthy mortals shall be crushed under my power!”

Credo collapsed to one knee, breathing hard. A red energy crackled from him, resonating with whatever insane pressure came from it. Nero on the other hand felt empowered, his body energized as if he was in sync with it.

“Is that you dead beat?” Nero called taking a single step forward. “You got that child support you still owe me?”

“Nero careful!” Credo hissed as he fell forward.

“FOOL! What do I owe such a pathetic and small human such as you?” The mass cried, losing shape and becoming a spiral of blue flame. The crystal was spinning, light shining from within.

Credo gagged, the hole filled with deafening wailing around them. Everything was bathed in a blue glow as the light around the crystal took shape. A humanoid shape formed, horned and holding a long-curved blade. It pointed at Nero, clawed hands glowing intensely. Nero stood his ground, jacket whipping behind him as his body felt heat coursing through his blood.

“Is that all?” Nero asked, drawing his own sword.

With a swipe, the figure struck out and cut the Purple Bishop into three different pieces. Nero let out a gasp but didn’t back down as the spectral blade passed inches from his face.

“You who squander your inheritance dare approach me?” the demon roared as Nero another step.

“Talk big all you like,” Nero countered, yet another footfall putting him within range of being grabbed. “All you are is a child throwing a fit because life sucks!”

“HOW DARE!”

“GROW UP!” Nero slammed his fist into the jaw of Vergil’s phantom. “You aren’t as badass as you think!”

The demon took a step back, vague spikes and scales of its distinctly inhuman face impossible to read. It seemed to tilt its head, considering Nero.

“Perhaps I have underestimated you. My other side desired you to come, yet I hadn’t considered you worthy. It may be that some pride of human origin taints me in sight of my progeny. Take thine legacy.”

Reaching out his non mechanical hand, the crystal shattered. Like catching a metal baseball, Nero’s palm lit with pain, fire burning through his whole body and yet swinging back he gripped the weapon with ease. The long katana took form, a typhoon of energy spiraling with Nero at its center. With a single swing, darkness shook, sound vanished and only the Yamato remained glowing in that blackness.

“N… Nero?” Credo called forcing himself up. “Is that Vergil’s sword?”

“Find him. He is waiting in Hell for you,” a shadowed figure whispered from behind Nero.

“Looks like it,” Nero managed feeling the weight of the sword. “Let’s get out of this hole.”

Effortlessly leaping out of the pit, Knights of the Order swarmed around them. There were questions but they all died as Credo raised a hand for silence. He jerked his head for Nero to follow, walking over first base and towards the exit.

“Phase one is complete. It is unlikely that there are any remaining survivors," Credo began, folding his arms behind his back. "I am deeply concerned about the current situation. With that tree serving as a conduit between realms, we may be facing a full-scale invasion of the human world."

“I don’t think you gotta worry about an invasion,” Nero said with a sigh. “A big ass demon named Los has absorbed most the Underworld and is up in that tree. No idea what he wants, but it ain’t good.”

“Absorbed all of…?” Credo choked. “Then eliminating him and that tree must be top priority. With the Yamato it might be possible to cut it down at it’s base, sealing the two realms… but trapping the wielder in the demon realm.”

“Vergil awaits you there,” hissed in Nero’s ear. “If you are strong enough go to him.”

“Too many assholes in my ear,” Nero half whispered. “We need Vergil. He’s down somewhere in Hell and I think I’m the one for the job.”

“I can go,” Credo said without hesitation. “You needn’t go alone.”

“These men need you,” Nero said pointing his metal arm back at the people on the field. “Marli’s Guardians are here and are gathering everyone at a safe point. Leave the Hell diving to me.”  

Credo looked at Nero in the eyes. In this moment he saw Nero not as that punk kid, but something glinted in his eyes hinting at a strength of will. They both took a moment, Credo resting against the wall, while Nero sat down on a bench. Nero explained about Tony, Lady, Nicco, the Pizza place and where to go. Credo didn’t have any objections and only spoke once Nero got up to leave.

“Keep yourself safe… for Kyrie’s sake,” Credo warned.

“Right…” Nero muttered. “Well let’s see what this baby can do!”

Turning away Nero held the long katana out from himself. Credo took a few steps back, light shining from the Yamato.  As if possessed, Nero’s upper body was forced into a long arching swing. A sizzling pop and deep buzzing rang out, a portal tearing open in space. With only the faintest hesitation, Nero stepped into it and felt himself bending and distorting with the very light around him.

It was as if walking in two places at once, each step filled with a separate pressure and sensation. Colors swirled around him, shifting and blending in impossible ways. The air seemed thicker, almost syrupy, and he could feel it resisting his movement. For just a second, Nero stumbled, the ground beneath him feeling both solid and fluid, as if he were walking on the surface of a lake frozen in mid-wave.

As he rolled to save himself, Nero exited the portal, his vision blurred and then sharpened with a snap. Around him was the broken city with pieces of the street at all different elevations, roots leading up and down. In some areas buildings were raised so high up, the only way one could have reached them was to scale the roots. Nero looked up realizing he was miles closer to the Quliphoth, the tree giant and dominate.

“Forward!” the distorted voice echoed from nothingness.

“I got it, I got it!” Nero complained. “Not like you ever did anything for me.”

There wasn’t any clear way forward. Nero would follow a piece of asphalt as far as he could, then leap or slide down a system of insidious growth. Broken buildings were barely held together by the systems of wooden blood suckers inside. The closer the trunk got, the less earthly the terrain became. Nero saw rivers of blood, systems of organic muscle pumping sanguine liquid upward. Black and gold crystals formed, white flowers covering manmade concrete and bursting into ash under his foot. At one point he came across a brass statue of some important human, now hung upside down in the flow of twisted gray wood.

It didn’t help there was no sign of life, human or demon. Only Nero making his way through the chaotic and random landscape. But all the quiet was broken by a sudden “WOO YEAH!!”

Tony was moving full speed on the motorcycle, ramping from one crooked street onto a building and then down a twisting root. Coming to a screeching stop he crashed down in front of Nero, tires smoking, pieces falling off the bike as it sputtered and died.

“Hey kid,” Tony said nonchalantly as the bike fell over. “I see you are heading for the tree.”

Nero frowned holding up the Yamato. “I’m going to get Vergil. He’s…”

“Trapped down in Hell. I know,” Tony nodded. “I was just going there myself. Better to partner up.”

“Look I don’t trust you… cousin. Why don’t you tell me who you really are, or I might just cut that long hair of yours!” Nero warned, getting hot under the collar.

“You really wanna know?” Tony asked, stepping forward. He let the Yamato get right next to his neck and twisted away, his blonde hair blowing away as he did so. “I suppose I can tell you my story. You are family after all.”

Tony took a moment to start, then began telling of the demon absorbing Hell. The bloated terrible being that had died to purify itself into a new being, Los. Nero grumbled about his arm and wanting to punch that guy in the face, Tony not commenting on this.  

The two slipped through ruins, older stone buildings collapsed on top of each other. It took a moment of climbing before Tony went on.

“Pieces of other demons escaped during that. Some so powerful they might still exist after being stripped bare. And of those many were pieces of Mundus that fled into the darkness, leaving only the last born of Hell.”

“And that’s you?” Nero asked trust wavering as he followed the skinny man.

“I was the remains of Dante’s humanity. At first rejected and spit out, my fetal body pulled itself together using what power I could salvage. This piece of the Rebellion… saved me. Through the dayless nights of Hell, I crawled naked and newborn till I found where Los had torn his way into the human realm. I remember forcing my way into a convenience store, grabbing at cold fried chicken and stale donuts. In that moment… I might have felt a little like the old Dante.”

“So that’s the truth of it. You’re Dante… his brother ?”

“I… am part of Dante. Not wholly him. Much that was Dante is missing, replaced with stretched out nothingness. Umm…” Tony seemed to think it over a moment as they walked. “You ever heard ‘Down in a Hole?’”

“No.”

“See my heart, I decorate it like a grave! ♪ Oh, you don't understand who they thought I was supposed to be! ♪ ”

Nero looked at Tony who didn’t even bat an eye and continued singing for a bit. Inside Nero understood, having had Dante’s past explained to him by Vergil. Before there had only been Credo and Kyrie, now this was the second member of his family to emerge. Was he to completely trust him? Nero didn’t really have a sense of how he should react to any of this.

“I get it, just don’t sing anymore,” Nero said a little annoyed. “How are we going to get Vergil back?”

Tony stepped through an archway blackened with old blood, as Nero followed he saw the base of the tree. Spreading out upon the ground was a portal, rippling like water inside this lake was a drop down into Hell. A rotten, sulfur smell came from it as Tony put his hands on his hips.

“You ready? It’s going to be a climb down!”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it,” Nero groaned.

Nero had sensed intense demonic aura before. The Savior’s insides had been claustrophobic and felt like you were in the presence of something infinitely more powerful and corporeal than you yourself. But now entering Hell, he was faced with a sense of endless demonic od. It was as if he were a ghost, not part of this reality, forcing his very existence into being as he slid, climbed and fell downward. By him Tony huffed, breathing a little hard and having to take a few breathers.

“Man… this place doesn’t get any easier…” Tony complained.

Underneath them the tree’s branches and white leaves spread for miles. The inverted canopy hung over the lands of the Underworld, sending its root system into the other realm in search of nourishment. This made it a little easier to climb down, but it never seemed to end. Worst of all, the lower they climbed the stronger the smell of rot got.

“What are we looking…” Nero began only to be cut off by a booming voice.

“WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!!”

Nero motioned Tony to hide, slipping from one branch to another. He peered down and saw a platform of twisting branches, a place where demons had gathered. Around them light reflected not only from the leaves, but from small crystal-like seeds that hung from it. Nero counted five figures of different sizes, each gathered in a circle. One large snake creature, another golden and horned, two Abyss Goat clan and a gigantic green creature with the face of a squid, human body and bat like wings.

“Los is unstoppable. Heir to Mundus, we must beg for our pathetic lives,” A snake headed humanoid said waving her overly long fingers.

Slamming a golden hand into the snake-woman a giant horned demon marched to the center. Large shimmering red wings beat upon its back. “I shall not kneel to that filth! I Abigail shall steal the fruit for myself!!”

“You couldn’t overthrow me, what makes you think you are any match for Los?” came Mundus’ familiar voice.

Nero clenched his teeth, still hidden in the leaves. Mundus’ statue like form walked up a spiraling path of branches. This version was younger, clean shaven and missing the hole in his chest. Even worse behind him in a dark hood limped another Mundus, bearded, missing his right arm and eyes glowing red.

“We must steal the fruit from that false king,” the younger of the two said raising a fist. “Else human realm, demon realm, it doesn’t matter… Los will destroy it all!”

“What of the Son of Sparda? The human realm is under his protection!” one of the Goat Clan demanded.

“Would you rely on the spawn of Sparda to save us?” the second Mundus asked, a much raspier and strained voice. “I SHALL RECLAIM MY THRONE!”

“You make it sound easy. Might we escape into the human realm and gather strength?” echoed the silky voice of Cthulhu.

“By then Los will be unstoppable!” the Mundus twins boomed together.  

“Let’s not interrupt them,” Tony whispered slipping next to Nero. “As much as I’d love to put a bullet in his head, I have bigger fish to fry.”

“Right,” Nero agreed disengaging from the demon council’s argument and descending yet further into the Quliphoth’s branches.

“You have been broken into pieces Mundus! Los has hunted most of you down!” Abigail shouted.

“Do you still challenge me lowly devil?”

Nero slid past the leaves not finding another branch, only free air underneath his feet. Hanging down a bit lower, he found the source of the smell. A fleshy corpse was spread out mile after mile, rotting and putrid. He gagged, the smell sinking in along with the decayed vision.

“Don’t stop now,” Tony said dropping down and past Nero. For a moment he was in free fall, then electrical blue wings spread from his back.

“Fucking show off…” Nero complained, then shut his mouth, tasting that foul smell. He grabbed hold of one of the branches with his mechanical hand and with a click it separated from wrist, lowering him down on a razor wire rope.

Getting as low as the wire would allow, Nero’s hand let go. He fell, cracking the red demonic stone and leaving a small crater where he’d landed, yet walking it off like it was nothing. Tony stood a little from him, an electrical bat on his shoulder as he looked at the remains spread over these lands. There was as much rotten flesh as there was stone, large, twisted bones standing gigantic around them.

Nero had this burning in his skin, eyes and even bones from the activity in this place. It was hard to breathe, yet he felt so energetic, like he was being pumped full of adrenaline.

“That’s it,” Tony said pointing a finger gun around them. “The big ugly thing that gave birth to me.”

“You don’t got to play it cool,” Nero told him bluntly. “You look like shit.”

“Ha… don’t call me out,” Tony muttered turning away, the plasma bat upon his shoulder shooting up and vanished in a bolt of lightning.

“So, if you’re the human part of Dante, how do you have familiars?” Nero asked looking for anything other than blood and bone in the distance.

“Never said I was completely pure,” Tony shrugged. “Sometimes a few demon souls just slip out. Anyway… we just got to find Vergil in here and…”

“YOU THINK I DIDN’T SEE YOU?” cried a high-pitched voice leaping down from above. Blood and stone flew into the air as a golden devil spread its wings and glared down upon them. “I shall enjoy feasting upon your FLESH!”

“We’re a little busy buddy,” Tony said walking over. The demon swung its large hand, but Tony ducked under it elbowing it softly in the rib. “What’s your name big gold and ugly?”

“I AM THE DARK LORD ABIGAIL! ONCE A CHALLENGER FOR THE CROWN OF HELL!!” it cried slamming both hands down where Tony had been.

Tony reemerged just behind Nero, spinning his revolver playfully. However, Nero held his metal arm out and signaled him to back off.

“Abigail?” Nero repeated looking a little smug. “That’s your great demon lord name? Abigail? I mean no judgement and all… its just a girl’s name like that isn’t…”

The golden demon shouted, rows of red crystals erupting out of the ground and sending pieces of meat everywhere. Nero twirled over them, landed and planted his feet. Feeling the weight of the Yamato he griped it with both hands, assuming a upright and straight pose.

“Alright… samurai time,” Nero smirked.

“Need help with this one?” Tony asked hand brushing his shotgun, still spinning his gun.

“Nah, don’t try to cockblock me! She’s MINE!”

“I AM A DEMON LORD!” Abigail shouted leaping into the air and diving at them.

Nero took in a breath, the Yamato coming up with the intake and then smoothly, effortlessly coming down. Exhaling, Nero felt a snap as the air parted and pressed back together. Abigail soundlessly looked at his right arm as it slid off, not spilling a drop of blood.

“What’s?” it cried and finally the torrent of blood burst forth.

“I was hoping for the whole, you don’t fall apart till I say something trick,” Nero said disappointedly.

“I… you… “

Despite the human side of him pulling to run, to get out of this horrible place, Nero felt so powerful here. Yamato glowing with violence, he was shocked as he threw a powerful wave of energy, spun and unleashed a second even more powerful strike.

Abigail froze, the first wave passing through him and the second exploding him into fire. The demon vanished almost instantly into dust.

“A fatality,” Nero quipped holding the Yamato up above him and spinning it, ending with it resting over his shoulders.

“Well, that was fun,” Tony started. “Let’s split up to look for your da…”

The Yamato began to pulse, a phantom devil appearing. It was no mistake for Vergil’s own demonic form, no legible emotion upon its face.

“I’ll just follow him,” Nero added.

“Sure, follow the scary doppelganger… don’t ask good old uncle Tony for advice.” Tony shook his head and began to follow after them.

“His body has been invaded by the flesh of the Devil-Sword Sparda,” the phantom Vergil told claws digging into the ground as it walked. “It may be impossible to extract him whole from the weapon. You may have to choose between the power of your grandfather and Vergil’s life.”

“That’s not a choice really is it?” Nero asked. “I mean you don’t really want to die right?”

“I am an Illusion,” it told monotoned. “I embodied the demonic heritage of Vergil and even then, I am but a ghost of that inside the Yamato. I have no essence or sense of life.”

“Great… well I would prefer not to kill my newfound pops.”

The Phantom stopped, a head taller than Nero and Tony. Looming over them, it’s firey eyes gave nothing away.

“Nero… without power you cannot protect anything, let alone yourself.”

“Whoa whoa,” Tony said walking between them. “Let’s not go over this whole speech again huh? Don’t need anyone getting stabbed.

Now considering Tony, the specter didn’t speak, taking a moment before turning to continue.

Vergil couldn’t feel, yet he became aware of those getting closer. His messenger had delivered the Yamato and Nero must be nearby. Trying to move his limbs, Vergil became aware of the pain and then went back to nothingness.

“Come Nero… I must entrust everything to you. And… who is that?”

Pain seared in his head, Vergil trying to pull himself to consciousness. A familiar presence was near, faintly but there.

Nero froze at the sight of it. A cross made of fleshy sinew and jagged bone, a macabre monument with Vergil a ghostly white statue within it. Blades jutted out like cruel spikes, catching the faintest glimmer of light, while bones intertwined into his chest. The monstrosity seemed to pulse and beat like a heart, a twisted artistry to the power of Sparda.

“What the hell…” Nero managed gripping the sword tightly.

The phantom reached his master and vanished in a poof of blue flame. Leaving Nero and Tony alone with the unmoving Vergil.

“Alright kid here’s the deal. You are going to stab that thing into your old man’s chest. When you do, you will be able to feel the different aspects that build Vergil. If you can extract the right part… he’ll be fine. If you don’t… well he could start falling apart, or we could end up with big bad demon Vergil.” Tony explained all this like one might a cooking recipe.

“No pressure,” Nero mumbled.

“No pressure,” Tony copied giving him a thumbs up.

Stepping up, Nero took the sword with both hands. It didn’t feel right to stab family, even if it was to save him.

“Don’t worry so much. Old Vergil stabbed me when I was younger than you,” Tony added sitting down on a fleshless patch.

Nero sighed and then pushed the blade forward. It had no issue pushing through the flesh of the Sparda or Vergil, given no resistance at all. That’s when darkness wrapped around them, Vergil beginning to shake violently. Suddenly Nero felt connected to a whole world within the both of them, a swirling mass of different concepts, feelings and memories.

“Don’t worry. Take it all.”

Nero felt the weapon vibrate within his hand, trying to hold on as the aura flowed out. There was so much to control, senses and emotions flowing through him. His own fear rippled, beginning to draw the weapon back.

“NERO!” Vergil shouted hand ripping out of the tangle of flesh to grab Nero’s. “ We are led to believe a lie, when we see not thro the eye. ”

Drawn into the swirling abyss, Nero almost feared he might lose himself within it. The Yamato drew in, resisting not flesh, but the microscopic divide of man and devil.

Vergil breathed hard, pale ivory face no different from his hair. He opened his eyes, blue gazing into Nero’s own. “ Which was born in a night to perish in a night, when the soul slept in beams of light… ”

Nero was only there to ground them, now Vergil took control. Nero didn’t understand, feeling the power of Sparda and Vergil, a mix of rapturous light and dark.

“ God Appears & God is Light ,” Vergil began and “To those poor souls who dwell in night,” Nero ended.

The Yamato’s hilt buried itself in Vergil’s chest, who burst into glowing purity. Nero was flung back, being caught by Tony. Purple, red and blue energy flowed around the white core; the very darkness of Hell made bright for just that moment.

And then around them, glowing blue ashes drifted, the Yamato clattering to the ground. Two figures stood before them, one a dark shape that brought night to the Underworld and the other a shrunken figure in loose clothes.

Chapter Text

The Yamato clattered to the floor, no blood or dirt upon the unholy blade. Nero’s face was whipped by the light and dark pulses around him, a pressure deeper than even Hell’s radiating out. Everything was violent, chaotic, active and then without warning dead still, silent. There was a smaller white shape within a much darker form fighting for dominance, two contrasting points of bright light and pitch-black dimming and coalescing until the smaller of the two cooled into the shape of a man.

He was a little shorter than Nero, thin but not sickly. The jacket and vest draped loosely on his shoulders, tattered and torn. A glowing mark where the Yamato had pierced settled into a deep scar and black bruise in the middle of his chest. The man clenched his fist, diminished and lacking the aura of strength that he had always possessed.

Behind the shadow grew more solid, jagged and sporadic as its size increased. Like caught on a fell gale of wind it flowed over the demonic stone and glided away. A dark shroud cast upon a nonexistent wind and billowing away.

“V… Vergil?” Nero managed and shattered the silence.

Turning slowly, his cold grey blue eyes seemed to see Nero for the first time. The man took a deep intake as if it were his first.

“Yes… Vergil…” he whispered as if considering the words. “It feels like an eternity since I heard that name.”

“Yeah well, it’s not been an eternity. I came to save you and all… family… you know?” Nero said shifting from one foot to another. “Did it work? You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Vergil said turning away. There was a sharpness to those words, soon replaced with a vulnerability. “The Devil-Sword Sparda is gone, along with most of my power. I am afraid I will be dead weight to you like this.”

“Dead weight?” Nero demanded grabbing his shoulder and forcing Vergil to look at him. “You listen to me. I pulled an Orpheus and came here to save your dumbass. I don’t need your self-pity or depression!”

“He’s always been a crybaby,” Tony added. He was not directly facing them as if to obscure himself.

Vergil slipped from Nero’s grasp, eyes widening. The two were undeniably kin, Tony’s slight muscle and blonde hair didn’t hide the identical facial features. Both changed, broken and put back together; Vergil took a few steps forward almost desperately.

“Dante?” he choked out, vision blurring and colors smearing damply. Suddenly his throat seized, his feet heavy and all he could do was raise a numb hand out towards him.

“Yeah… it’s me,” Dante admitted turning a face that was both youthful yet hollowed by some long passed horror. “Imagine meeting you here.”

Another heavy step, Vergil stumbling on his jacket that had been made for someone taller. Pulling it off as though the piece of clothing denied his reunion, Vergil took those seemingly impossibly long steps till he was face to face with his twin.

“You had a kid huh? He’s a bit of a spit fire.” Dante smiled and shrugged not knowing what else to say.

“I’m sorry,” Vergil forced out. “Dante I’ve done so much wrong… I hurt you. This is all my fault. I knew it was wrong, the quest for power demanded so much and I…”

“Vergil let it go,” Dante said softly embracing him. “We were stupid kids. Let it go.”

Calling Dante’s name into his shoulder, tears flowed upon their pale skin. Vergil shook violently, unable to control himself anymore and collapsing. Dante held tight, going to his knees but not letting go. It was a strange scene, two humans embraced in an emotional reunion against the backdrop of the underworld.  

Nero turned away and distracted himself by grabbing the Yamato. Inspecting the weapon he gave them their moment, unsure how to handle the emotional reunion.

“After Mallet Island I searched and searched looking for any signs of you. I never gave up that you were still alive, wrapped in horror but still there.” Vergil weakly broke the embrace.

“I heard from Lady,” Dante assured. “She caught me up on the years I was gone and helped me recover.”

“Why didn’t you come to me? I would have protected you.” Vergil froze thinking of the last encounters they had, bloody violent and resentful. He felt deeply undeserving of trust.

Dante sat back, crossing his legs and staring up at the glowing branches of the Hell-Tree above them. Very rarely a white leave would float down onto the flesh hellscape and turn black.  

“Sometimes it’s the ones you love that hurt the most to face. I knew you had spent years and years of your life not living but hunting for me. I thought of many crazy plans, avoided putting most of them into action, always knowing he’d come for us. Knowing my mess would come for us.”

Vergil didn’t answer and Dante looked away frowning. “I’m not me, I feel alien in my own body. I can be sitting eating a meat lovers and still there is something un-Dante about it. I spent months recovering, weak and fumbling. How was I supposed to face you like that? I hid in her apartment taking what little happiness I found.”

Dante held his hands up, his fingers shaking as he felt his own face. However, Vergil put his hands to his own chest, choking on the endless apologies, arguments or justification to make this feel right.

“I’m glad you are alright.” That was all he could bring himself to say. Embarrassed at the inadequateness of those words.

“Yeah, even if it’s another world ending drama… I’m glad to see you Vergil.”

Nero looked up wondering if he or Dante was going to give Vergil the ride back up. Avoiding looking at the tearful reunion he felt the weight of the Yamato, unsure how to direct a portal up to the platform above.

“Thank you Nero,” Vergil said noticing him again. “I wasn’t sure what would happen or if the Yamato would find you.”

“It’s fine, don’t go fighting any more demon lords without me,” Nero replied distractedly firing his mechanical fist into the air and just missing a low hanging branch.

“Vergil’s demon fighting days are over,” Dante said standing up and stretching. “It’s going to take everything we got and more, but I think we can give that asshole upstairs a run for his money!”

“I shall not stand idly by while my kin face Los,” Vergil countered sounding more like himself. Standing up he dramatically turned his back to them and straightened up.

Nero walked around to get in Vergil’s face, now by far the strongest looking of the three. “Listen here, I didn’t waltz down into the underworld just so you could do whatever the hell you want!”

“You haven’t felt his true power, the depth of his hate.”

“And I don’t give two shits. Listen up dad, you are going to sit this one out or I’m going to knock a few teeth out.”

Dante stepped between them smiling and waving his hands about. “Hey guys let’s be reasonable. Right Vergil? Let’s get out of here…”

“I’m not a child Dante,” Vergil snapped. “I will have time to cry for our humanity later. I’m going to face my own demons, then we can take care of yours.”

Vergil’s confidence was betrayed by the faintest limp as he made to walk away.  

“VERGIL!!” Nero shouted stomping after him. 

“Listen kid pops isn’t going by himself,” Dante assured pushing Nero back lightly. “I’ll go with and make sure he comes back in one piece… alright?”

Nero clenched his teeth hard and hissed multiple curses. He pushed his finger into Dante’s chest and warned him to “Come back in one piece or I’ll drag both your asses back with me!” then swung the Yamato into the empty air.

A weak portal cracked open before semi closing, so Nero brought another angrier slice down. With a proper portal cracking and popping Nero stepped through, his human hand lingering just a moment to flip them off.

“Alright… junior is gone… now let’s get senior.” Dante began a jog to catch up. “Hey Vergil wait up!”

Credo marched towards the pizza-shop. He doubted this place had ever seen half of the people gathered here today. It was a mixture of the forces of humanity. Fortuna men and women dressed in white, Marli Guardians drawing magic runes around the building, crescent blades upon their hips, and then what was left of the police and swat, bandaged and beaten but still moving supplies of guns and ammo.

P oint ing out six of ­his own, Credo ordered them to check the perimeter. At once they saluted and all together exclaimed “For Humanity!”

“Out of the way! Coming through! Watch your step!” Nicco shouted rolling a wheelbarrow through the crowds. It was filled with strange roots and metal scrap, some which was still moving. “Hey don’t touch that! It’ll take ya’ eye out!”

Credo watched her with mild agitation, but trusted Nero wouldn’t bring someone who didn’t know what they were doing. He followed her through the back into the makeshift HQ.

The kitchen now had a large map of the city in its center, laptops and wires going everywhere. The generator hummed and sputtered, the yellow light flickering just a moment, before returning them to dimness. Lucia stood against the wall, arms crossed and Lady rubbed her temples in frustration. Several well-dressed men were arguing over the maps, clearly high-ranking cops and officials.

“Is that stuff safe to play with?” Lady asked reaching under a table to produce a beer.

“If tall dark and pretty’s wizards know what they are doing, we should be fine!” Nicco shot back grabbing a blow torch and returning to the pieces of the Gilgamesh. “Nothing I can’t handle! Big bitch demon is dead but the metal itself is alive. Normally demons fuse it with their flesh to make armor, but sometimes a fella into the occult will get a piece and make semi Devil-Arms. It’s how my daddy got started! ”

Credo glanced from the corner of his eyes, making a note to investigate her parentage. “Can it be used to make us weapons?”

“Of course you would want to use it,” Lucia muttered as she walked over. “Didn’t think I’d see you again thief.”

“What happened in Marli was unfortunate,” Credo began going stiff. “I apologize for what the Order did in the past. “

“I know what you are,” Lucia warned. “How many of you have they experimented on?”

“My men are loyal!”

“We have the same enemy,” Lady warned putting herself between them.

“Let emm’ fight,” Nicco laughed. “My money is on the red-haired babe.”

Lady opened her mouth and closed it, mouthing a few curse words. “We are waiting for Tony and Vergil to get back, then need to get moving asap. The Quliphoth’s purpose is to grow the fruit and it’s been very still the past few hours.”

“Thermals show the blood is culminating in one location,” Credo explained. “If it has enough blood, we need to assume its almost ready.”

“Then don’t wait for them.” Nero pushed open the back doors, radiating frustration . “They’ll catch up with us.”

Everyone looked to Nero, Yamato hooked to his back. Bathed in the low light of the room he was the image of Vergil or was it Sparda? Not missing a beat Nero pulled off the robotic arm and offered it to Nico.

“Can you fix this for me? It’s sticking.”

“Sure, you crank your lil’ sword too hard?” Nico asked shaking the hand suggestively.

“I’m going to call Kyrie,” Nero added ignoring her and heading for the front door.

“It draws near…” Los said aloud. There was no one to hear his voice, outside of the well of souls within himself. Perhaps it was an act of dominance over the chain of cries and curses desperate to have some control over flesh again, or perhaps he just wanted to hear his own voice.

Agony within, Los impatiently waited upon that throne, vines and roots digging into his flesh to pump human blood into his veins. This would then be dissolved, burned as fuel for the demonic fire within himself. He could sense through the Quliphoth, the bugs crawling among the roots, the human resistance, but the kin of Sparda were hidden from his senses. At first this might have disturbed him, but Vergil was no match, why should those of Sparda’s blood present any challenge? Suddenly Los was pulled back, the presence of someone before him.

Opening his eyes Los saw two ivory figures before him, both reeking of dark aura. In front the clean-shaven Mundus raised an ebony rapier, three eyes glowing red-purple and his expression serious. Behind him the bearded copy raised his one arm, stakes of fiery energy bursting into life above him.

“How many of you must I kill?” Los asked. Blood rushed from the fountain behind his throne, red steam hissing as superheated fluid filled the air .

“I am infinite! Suffer thy cur!” came in stereo; the crimson mist parting as countless bolts of energy fired through it.

Lightning and plasma bouncing off him , Los drew himself up once again. He found this cleaning up to be tedious and boring. With one step forward and closing his held aloft hand , a void formed. Both white figures dashed to opposing sides, milliseconds from being compressed into nothing.

“FOUL BLOODED BASTARD!” Yet another copy cired. This time a winged Mundus came from above, launching crystalline spears down upon Los. This Mundus was cracked, fleshy eyes and hands clinging to anything that got too close.

The spearheads cut through the Quliphoth’s roots, sending blood spraying upon the floor. The ebony blade flashed up, slicing open Los’ mouth from cheek to cheek. However the red devil gave no reaction, flesh bubbling and sizzling. Even as the bladed Mundus jabbed his weapon into Los’ chest, it only bought time for the crimson hand to grab hold of the attacker and tear his head off.

“You dare challenge me again! YOU who’s hate burns inside me? WHOM I HATE WITH UNEARTHLY PASSION?! Los boomed crushing the marble head like it was nothing. Three flesh orbs hurled forth into the air and become comets of fire.

The Quliphoth shook, roots upending outside and smashing down into the city in the wake of its master’s anger. But even as one Mundus fell, three more came forth. Some only had one eye, others missing pieces of their body. A few blobs of inhuman flesh rolled out, beams of light firing from the multiple orbs emerging from them. All these pieces of the emperor united against Los, a fallen king’s vengeance.

“The souls within call for blood. Human, demon. That which is me… my soul says it wants vengeance!” Los raised his arms , the room becoming dark. The light around them seemed to bend, colors distorting and bleeding in a blur. “BEGONE!”

A spectrum of colors burst forth before collapsing into nothing, the darkness eating everything. Black became white, then green-yellow hues, followed by red and orange flashes, the room tearing itself apart. Blood gushed from the Quliphoth in geysers as only Los remained, skinless as his eyelids began to reform.

“It is time,” he said through a lipless mouth and began to walk towards the chamber of the fruit.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Nero said leaning against the booth. He’d traveled a few streets down to find power still available. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine Nero. I have tried to keep the kids away from the television, but I can’t help but watch. What’s happening there?” Kyrie’s concerned voice contrasted heavily with Nero’s own nonchalant tone.

“I won’t lie… it’s pretty bad. There’s a lot of people getting hurt and if I can’t do this…” Nero took a deep breath looking at anything but the ruins around him before settling on his own boots. “I have to do this.”

“Nero you are the strongest man I know. If anyone can handle it its you, I believe in you.”

“Thank s Kyrie.”

Nero found his words sticking at first. Then he told her an abridged version of what had happened, leaving out the fact he went into Hell. “Now Vergil’s run off with Dante and I don’t know if I’m ever going to see them again. He’s always running, never letting me handle it.”

“Sounds like you got your stubbornness from him. He’ll come back Nero, just have faith. He’s just being a man and trying to do everything himself.”

Nero laughed slightly at faith. What should he have faith in? Sparda? His grandfather? “This situation is connected to my family… to Sparda, his children and enemies. I wish for once things could be normal… I could be normal.”

“Nero you are anything but normal and it’s why I love you ,” Kyrie scolded. “You are soft when you want to be, tough when you need to be, and I didn’t fall for you because you were normal. Have faith in yourself, I know I do.”

Leaning against the glass Nero smiled a little. “I love you. I’m going to cut this tree down and get home so I can beat my record. We’ll go all night you here?”

“Nero… now’s not the time for…” her voice suddenly shift ing with embarrassment. “You need to focus on the mission.”

“Right… I know,” Nero laughed going to rub his neck only to realize he didn’t have that arm. “I better go."

“Take care of Credo ok?” Kyrie shot back.

“Right, right, see you later.”

Nero hung up the receiver and took one more deep breath. He had his reminder, why he fought, what he had to protect. Opening the sliding door everything was bathed in light for just a moment. A section of the Quliphoth exploded sending chunks falling all throughout the city.

They followed the aura to a large cavern. There was little way to avoid the smell of the putrid flesh dotting the landscape, but it at least looked friendlier. The entrance was covered in crystals, starting black glossy at the roof and slowly shifting to sparkling white as it got closer to the ground. Small glowing geometric shapes floated within the dim opening, along with a dark blue mist.

“You find your better half?” Dante asked, joining his brother at the edge of the cave.

“Yes, I can feel him.”

They had only made small talk the whole way, a few do you remembers, or I wish I hads. Tony went off on an extended recollection of their mom’s spaghetti to which Vergil had at least smiled .

“Hey big bad Vergil!! Want to give your brother a hug?” Dante shouted, his voice echoing back to them. “I’m right here.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Vergil sighed. “He can be very disagreeable.”

Dante twisted his mouth and raised an eyebrow, giving a “Mmmhmm?”

“I forgot your lack of wit and seriousness.”

Vergil stumbled, catching himself before Dante could close the gap. Straightening himself Vergil clinched his fist and forced himself on. He had some strength, human strength and faint remnants of demonic magic, but control over this body felt alien.

“Turn back humans,” the voice warned, contrary to them pressing forward. “Leave me be !”

Breathing that aura was hard, Vergil clenched his teeth as Dante jokingly added “Hey now don’t be shy!”

The floating lights took on different shapes, hexagons, spirals and triangles bouncing coldly off whatever they encountered. Around them the ground became flat and smooth, the walls starting to form simple carvings, abstract human shapes and horned creatures adorning the walls.

“I no longer want your weakness.”

“You don’t have my strength either,” Vergil told the darkness around him. “Dante is here. We found him.”

“Dante is at the top of that tree. He prepares to destroy everything, and I am no longer sure I wish to stop him.” The low voice felt both close and far, the fog hiding any sign of life.

“I think you’ll find I’m the fun Dante! Unlike that one!”

Vergil reached out and rested his hand upon a carving of his own father for balance. “Nero is out there; he’ll get himself killed without our help!”

There was a pause, the in take and retraction simulating breathing within the fog. The reflective walls now had formed into the shape of frozen flames, tombstones and skeletons, the lights breaking into small orbs that glimmered faintly.

“Perhaps you should have kept the child here. Not sent him to die for others.” The voice was close, or at least it sounded like he was. Dante flinched, looking to his left, even as “I wish to wait for my brother here. Begone,” came to Vergil’s right.

“This guy is a joke,” Dante said all mirth drained from him. “Guts and honor! That’s the Vergil I know!”

“You know little.”

The cavern expanded into a crystalline recreation of the Unsacred Gate, the final battleground that had separated the Sons of Sparda. White pillars of glass shot up , water flowing underneath a frozen layer at their feet . Here a tall dark blue demon sat upon the ground, almost as in meditation.  

He was much like Los, covered in spikes and horns that almost formed a crown. Deep blue-black skin covered fangs both within and atop his mouth, two green catlike eyes joining five fiery others. Scales, claws and more horrific eyes covered the flesh, thick muscle building a creature that surpassed at least fifteen feet.

“My father is gone, Mundus is broken, and my brother has abandoned our homeland, that makes me the new Emperor of Hell,” the demon mused rubbing his long-clawed finger over his thumb.

“Emperor Vergil doesn’t have a ring to it,” Dante said stepping forward. “I guess I get the chance to bitch slap you twice as much now!”

“I have no name, I am but two days old,” the demon told with a smile and asked himself “What shall I call myself then ?” For a long time the demon seemed to freeze upon these words before announcing , “If there is to be a Los, then I am Urizen.”

“Well as far as I know you were born the same day as me and I don’t have time to quote little rhymes or verses with you. Maybe we should decide this the way we did as kids?” Dante shouted and aimed his shotgun at Urizen.

“I could crush you. I could bring you both to kneel before me and reduce your bones to ASH!” thundered around them , the lips of the demon hardly moving .

Vergil stepped forward, oversized boots dragging on the floor. He took several weary steps silently passed Dante and towards the dark shape.

“I am but a man,” Vergil admitted. “I beg you, help me save my son and those I care about. Don’t let the human realm that our father loved fall to ruin.”

Dante lowered his weapon, making a disappointed face as Vergil down to one knee.

“I hate you,” Urizen said standing up to tower over them. He reached forward to grab Vergil by the vest and lifted him from the ground as Dante let out a gasp. “Weak flesh, unable to hold anything. Always weeping for what it lost, always powerless. The friendless nights, fighting just to survive, starving and all the while drawing on that black blood to get through another fight. I hate… I loath .”

“Will you sit idle… when it’s you the world needs? The loneliness you feel is fed by your own selfish ness! Do you need absolution?” Vergil struggled against him, fingernails digging into flesh as he spoke. “Face Los with us! Or at least die with honor!!”

Dante cartwheeled backward, a wall of flame erupting between him and the two. Urizen swung Vergil like a ragdoll , slamming him into the stones. The crunch of bones and muffled cry hinting at the damage.

“Beg me to live! Give me a reason we deserve anything more than destruction!!!”

“Destroy this flesh…” Vergil managed through a mouth of blood. “Save them…”

“Dammit VERGIL!” Dante cried one shot sending a burst of wind to clear a path forward. Sliding through he kicked off the wall and fired a torrent of flames on Urizen’s back uselessly.

“I have one condition…” Urizen said as an orb of magic formed around Dante.

From Dante’s perspective everything moved hundreds of times slower. Even with his slightly inhuman reaction speed, the movement of Urizen’s mouth was so slow he could watch his tongue move up and the teeth come down on it. Droplets of blood f ell from Vergil in slow motion , his arms limp . Dante had his revolver; his hand was just touching it but at this rate it would be an eternity before he could pull it out.

“So be it.”

Falling to the ground Dante raised his weapon , only to see a black cloud forming around the two figures. Light pierced that darkness and crystals fell sparkling all around them like broken glass. Only Vergil remained, body covered in a blue-black set of flesh armor.

Looking at his hand and arm, Vergil noted the glowing eye on the back of it , the glowing light within the forearm much like the one stolen from Nero. Flexing the exo-skeleton he slammed his fist into a pillar, shattering it.