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Nelo Angelo stood in front of the rigid statue. It was a large, commanding figure with muscles carved into the stone. Wings were carved into the statue’s back, and the shadow they created blocked out the light from above Nelo. The glowing eyes bore down on him, looking through him and breaking him down piece by piece. The power behind the stare made the air in the immediate vicinity turn solid. The distant sound of the destruction humans were causing became nothing more than background noise as Nelo was completely focused on the demon king.
“My angel, the knight has failed to return,” Mundus said. His voice was deep, rumbling. The vibrations made the dirt and dust move in the air and along the ground. Nelo stayed quiet, not giving away his thoughts. It wouldn’t have mattered; Mundus could just rip into his head to see the most private thoughts.
“The humans and your brother have seen to it, personally. I want you to track down your brother and give me the portal. If the humans want a war, Sparda isn’t here to save them now.”
“And what of the captives?” Nelo asked, hiding the trembling in his voice. He knew that questioning the king was dangerous, a transgression that could get him killed. The demon king simply chuckled in response.
“Offer them …liberation,” Mundus answered smoothly. He stressed the last word out; the harsh “B” sound snapped out like a whip.
“And of Cavaliere?”
“Look for the knight, or don’t. Your toys do not concern me. Get the necklace. Get Dante. Those are your priorities. You are to search the headquarters. They seem to lack the foresight to hide what truly matters.”
“Understood, King Mundus,” Nelo responded.
Nelo learned very quickly that it was easier to traverse the world once he shed his armor. The form of Vergil was lighter, true, but there were other advantages. He looked like a human, a relic given to him from his fallen mother. The only thing making him stand out was the shock of white hair, a trait that his brother shared, a gift from their father. People stared, but nobody made much of a fuss. The same people who had run screaming from demons were eyeing him up.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth. To Vergil, it bordered on hypocrisy. Or, at the very least, a double standard.
All it would take for people’s opinion to switch was a burst of power.
Vergil was almost tempted to do it, to show the humans what true power was, but that could easily mess up the mission that he was given. All he needed was to enter the building. Then he could unleash everything. Those humans never stood a chance.
The morgue was still, quiet. The human officials, they weren't even using actual doctors or morticians, were lying in red puddles on the floor. The sound of blood dripping echoed through the steel and concrete walls. The body bags were piled into the corner, not even giving the fallen the same treatment between the humans and the not. Demon blood pooled underneath the piles. Vergil walked by the body shelves, opening one. The vacant look of a dead soldier stared back at him. The cold of the freezer blew out from the open door. Vergil glared back at the dead eyes before slamming the shelf back into its cubby, causing a loud boom.
Vergil tilted his head as something about the body bags called to him. Maybe Dante would be in there, in the pile.
Vergil stepped toward it; the congealed blood stuck to the bottom of his boots. The wet footsteps were loud, but the sound fell on deaf ears.
The body bags had tears in them. They weren't built for horns and claws, and with the jostling and the weight of others on top of them, the cloth was torn through like it wasn't even there.
Vergil saw the wings first. The top of them had been sheared off, just like the top of the head. That had answered the question of where Cavaliere had gone. There weren't eyes for Vergil to meet.
“Do you think things will be better?” Vergil asked. The wasteland was blistering around him and the person he was speaking to.
The person he was talking to was a humanoid girl. Her eyes were large, solid black. The facial proportions were that of a porcelain doll, meaning her nose and mouth were small. Her blond hair was thick and long, flowing behind her like a yellow fire. Her skin bore the same color of porcelain plates and was just as smooth. The only proof of life was a slight pink blush on her cheeks. She wore a simple dark dress and dark scarf wrapped over her mouth and nose. Once upon a time, the dress had been black, but time made the color fade and the edges burn and fray.
The girl was quiet for a moment. She tried to sigh in thought, only to cough harshly through her facial cloth. “You mean do I think you will make it out of here?” Her voice was strained from the coughing.
“Alice,” Vergil grumbled at the way she had singled him out. She huffed and gave a bitter smile, her prolonged fangs poking out from behind her lips. It made her mouth cover ripple and steam from her venom.
“Let me answer the question, V,” She responded. She looked away in thought. “I want to hope that we both can get out of here, see the human world for all of its beauty, mourn it for all its faults, but I don’t have the power to survive here. What are my odds of making it to the other side? You could probably make the jump for fun. I’d die in the crossing.”
“I’ve been abandoned by enough people that I wouldn’t let that happen,” Vergil grumbled.
“You can’t control everything. There are powers at play nobody can predict. None of us, anyway.” Alice gestured her head to somewhere over the horizon, where a demonic castle poked out from the distance.
“We’ll make it over,” Vergil promised. “We aren’t going to die here.”
The entire form was limp, showing its true nature: living armor. The hulking form was nothing more than a weapon that lived on a smaller and weaker being placed in the heart, allowing the poisons of the air around it to be harmless to them, at the price of tying the forms together, the only way to keep killing one from killing both is to separate them before dealing the final blow.
The chest plates folded back in the process of going still. Not enough to open them and reveal the heart within, but enough for them to be manually opened.
Vergil was not surprised by what he had seen. The demon, as the humans had called their kind, was cold and pale. The eyes were a touch too big, the skin the white of porcelain, fangs two long, hanging down from the roof of her mouth, dripping steaming venom. Vergil cupped the back of her head, pulling her head up to face him. The force of gravity let her jaw fall open.
Her eyes were closed, looking almost asleep. The only thing that signaled something was wrong was the coolness and the green venom dripping down the corner of her mouth. Her black clothes were the same as they always were. There was a moment when Vergil wondered if the contrast between her complexion and the dress made the dress look darker or her skin look paler. It didn’t matter.
Long blond hair hid most of her face from view, but Vergil couldn’t stand to look at her any longer. The death was confirmed. He could leave. Once upon a time, the loss of a friend would have made him scream, cry, grow angry- but there was nothing. The armor that labeled him the Nelo Angelo protected him from such human afflictions. His eyes narrowed. It was going to be difficult to find someone to power such a weapon again, and it would still be used after such a major design flaw had taken it down.
Vergil dropped her back into the armor and turned on his heels.
There was a gun pointed at him with eyes of two different colors staring up at him.
Nelo Angelo stood against the walls of the grand demonic palace. Other demons bowed at him or looked away. There was an air of respect that wasn’t there before. It was nice.
“Angelo.” A deep voice greeted him. Nelo’s head snapped up, and he was face to face with new armor. And it was armor. Nelo could see the face of the armor and how it moved with a pulse, but any deeper look showed the familiar face. The companion he had been traveling with was nestled into the armor, living through the connection and powering the weapon and the electricity therein. The armor knelt in a pledge. There was no name to connect to it, denying power to the demon.
“Cavaliere, my knight.” Nelo declared, naming the demon and giving a purpose.
“You think that little toy of yours will hurt me?” Vergil asked. The Nelo Angelo armor buzzed under his skin. He wanted to cut down anything in his way, but there was a medal on her armor- she was a higher-up. She could be useful.
“It worked well enough on your buddy there.” The female spat out. It was a bluff, there was no firearm damage in the armor, the only lasting damage on it was the killing blow.
Something flared from his heart, a strange phantom sensation existing despite the demon king cutting it out. He had called it a gift, an act of mercy. Pain was a weakness, and so was any bond. Removing it was to become stronger.
A growl left his throat, and his grip on his sword tightened. “You couldn’t hurt me. The damage of those that abandon their post is of no concern. I am just here because of family matters.”
“Like the girl in the armor?”
“Like my brother, who you have locked away.” Vergil’s voice was short but still radiated the power the son of Sparda should.
The woman blinked in surprise. “Oh. Dante. No.”
Vergil’s eyes flashed with power. “Release him, It’s only a matter of time before he frees himself.”
“I’ll deal with him then. I can deal with you now.” The woman glared, firing a shot.
Vergil expected the bullet to hit him. He had his sword ready to slice it in half, but it flew right by him, toward the bodies in the corner.
Vergil didn’t think. Didn’t have time to. He was able to stop it, like he always did. The delay forced him to aim it at the ceiling, hitting a sprinkler and setting off the fire alarm.
The slimy, thickened water rained down, leaving a residue everywhere. Vergil’s hair lost its spikes as it compressed against his head.
The woman would have acknowledged it and the visual similarity to his brother had she not taken the distraction to bolt, ordering every door to be locked behind her.
The doors were locking just as fast as Vergil was cutting through them. The security was making every door stronger or, at the very least, thicker. It didn’t matter; ultimately, Vergil was barely paying attention, but he saw the shreds that he had left the doors in were slightly bigger as he made his way up and toward the center of the building.
The guards were becoming scarce. There were a few that stayed to shoot at him, a laughable attempt to slow him down. Of course, Vergil had already moved on before the fools had even hit the ground.
His heightened senses led him down a set of hallways that folded in on themselves; the woman hunter was forgotten in his mind, with him running to where Dante’s demonic power radiated from, holding him for any amount of time.
The horde of Mundus’ army had cornered the duo. The skeletons of ancient creatures lay around them, trapping the two in a bony cage. Laughter rang out. Vergil gripped the hilt of the sword, cutting away at anyone who got close. Alice, gripping a small dagger that was taken from a fallen demon, hissed at her captors. Her chest burned from the toxic air around them. Her mask had been ripped off, making her skin burn and bubble. They had not slept in a couple of days and hadn’t eaten for even longer. They were tired, hungry, and weakened.
“Poor, foolish, little children. Lacking the power to protect each other, let alone themselves.” The form of the largest one of the monsters hunting them leered over them. Vergil ran forward, swinging his sword with practiced, if untrained ease. Demon blood sprayed everywhere. Vergil’s legs shook under the force of him using his strength.
A smaller demon cried out as Alice got close, biting down. Blood smeared over her face, sparking into flames as it mixed with her venom. The demon burst into flames as a tail came from the side and slammed her away from the ashes. Alice slammed into a rib, the bone not giving way. Alice let out a soft noise of pain, blood dripping from her mouth.
Vergil ran back to her, allowing himself to take a couple of hits, slicing through his clothes.
“Oh, the little changeling has some spirit. The king may have a use for such a malleable menace.” The demon that had taken the cut from Vergil had said.
Vergil stood in front of her, sword bared, glaring daggers at those in front of him.
He missed the ones slipping through the bones in the trap behind them. The stress had dulled his senses, allowing him to grow sloppy. He didn’t miss the blades slashing at his back, causing him to collapse.
Vergil looked up at the empty canister the younger son of Sparda had been sitting in. There was no trace of where he had gone, just that he was not there anymore.
Vergil felt himself smile. Of course, Dante would escape from the mere humans. It just meant that the hunt was on.
Lady glared over where the amulet and sword should have been. The empty canisters were mocking her. The guards stood around blinking, dumbfounded. The systems were picking up traces of the demonic power left behind, as if contact with echoes of Sparda left a charge behind, hanging it to the core.
“That motherfucker.” Lady finally growled out. “I’ll find you.”
The idea of the two worlds merging was tempting for Nelo Angelo. It would weaken the hold on hell that the Demon King had on hell, as a result, and that would bring the Angel’s loyalty into question.
Nelo stared down the White rabbit. It was familiar. He was aware of the story. But Nelo could smell the human blood in the rabbit.
“I do not ask for much.” The Rabbit droned on. The sound reminded Nelo of crickets. The rabbit was just as easy to crush, but that could be later. “Just a little bit of blood from the eldest son of Sparda and his amulet.”
A solid beat passed in silence.
“Find the younger and the other half first and I may consider helping you. My knight will watch and make sure you will follow through. “
“Oh. I can deliver.” The Rabbit bowed, ignoring Cavaliere forming in the shadows. Nelo just responded with a glare- before sharing a look with the knight.
“I will see to that. Bring me results.” Nelo nodded, still facing Cavalier. Before the next thing could be said, Nelo walked away, leaving the two to stand in silence.