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skvaderarts · 4 years

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Soliloquy Prologue:

If you’d Like to you can read it on A03 Here, FF.N Here or Wattpad Here! Oh, and my Website Here! Almost forgot

Otherwise, you can read it below! Enjoy the Megafic! Info can be found here

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"Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair." -William Blake

Prologue:

And as soon as the battle had started, it stopped. All the demons that had been foolish enough to think that they stood a chance against the sons of Sparda now laid dead at their feet. Well, for now, at least. The base of the Qliphoth seemed to be an epicenter for demon activity, and it was never very long before they decided to return in mass quantities. And as entertaining as defeating the first hundred or so waves of hell beasts had been, it was long past time to leave this place.

Dante pulled his blade out of what remained of a Chaos carcass and flicked it clean before returning it to its proper place on his back. The devil hunter did a full 360 turn, taking in the perimeter of destruction they had wrought. The average demon didn’t stand a chance against him, but both of them together? The word “futile” came to mind. Dante shook his head and scoffed to himself. “They just don’t stop, do they?”

Behind him, Vergil twirled Yamato and dragged it along its scabbard to remove the residual blood before returning it to its proper place. He then spared a glance over his shoulder at Dante. “What made you think that they would in the first place, brother? This is the underworld. They’re not going to let up anytime soon, I can assure you of that.”

Dante sighed tiredly. Yea, there was no way he could have guessed that one with his brother’s assistance. But regardless of how obvious the statement was, the point he made was still valid. During their extended stay down here, Dante hadn’t really taken the time to consider the situation in full until now. The fighting was never going to end, and they had no safe area to call home. And then there was the conversation that they both knew they needed to have, but neither of them seemed to want to initiate.

The matter of how long they were going to stay down here.

“So, Vergil, I’ve gotta ask,” Dante said as he walked towards his twin brother. Vergil was standing with his back to him, looking at something far off in the distance that his younger brother couldn’t quite pinpoint. He seemed lost in thought; focused. He tilted his head ever so slightly in Dante’s general direction but was still clearly more focused on his prior observations. “How the hell did you get out of this place without Yamato?”

Vergil looked almost amused by the question. Of all the things his younger twin brother could’ve asked, that was his question? It was almost ironic. “...That is…” Vergil paused for a moment as if searching for the correct word”... It’s convoluted, to say the least. I would demonstrate but…”. Vergil didn’t need to say that it was an awful idea. Dante had deduced that one for himself from his brother’s tone alone.

“Got it. Let’s just hope we don’t need to do it again.” Dante shrugged. He didn’t think Vergil was going to try to explain that one, and part of him honestly didn’t want to know. It was probably something awful, considering Vergil’s track record. Their father Sparda had made it nearly impossible for more powerful demons to leave the underworld. Too bad he hadn’t left an instruction manual to go with his magic wards. It could have solved more than a few problems…

Vergil stepped forward and used Yamato to gesture towards whatever he had been looking at in the distance before. “We may have more luck over there.”

Dante looked towards what his brother was indicating. If he strained his eyes, he could just make out something red and jagged in the distance. A row of red thorn-like structures extended out across the horizon in what looked like a wall of some sort. Or that was what he thought it was from where they currently were. If distance worked the same way in the Underworld that it did in the human world, that had to be a few miles away. But, it wasn't like they had anywhere better to go, and they couldn't be any more exposed to attack than they were now.

The younger Son of Sparda opted to accept the offer and waved Vergil on, indicating that he was willing to follow him. After all, Vergil had spent a long time down here. A very long time. If anyone knew their way around this place, then it was going to be him. Vergil started down the well-worn path that led away from what was left of the Qliphoth. It would be good to leave this place behind them. It might now lay dead at their feet, cut to the ground by their blades, but it still served as a powerful reminder of Vergil's destructive and frankly tragically misguided desire for power at all costs. There would be a time and a place for that conversation, but that time hadn't come yet and it wasn't something either of them relished. For now, they would go to whatever the mysterious structure was in the distance and regroup. Perhaps they could take a break and collect their thoughts for a moment when they arrived.

-~-

The first leg of their long walk was surprisingly uneventful. Only a small handful of lesser Empusa bothered to stand in their path, most likely displaced from their home and purpose after the destruction of the Qliphoth and the sealing of the Hellgate the monstrous houseplant had housed. It was official: Vergil was never, under any circumstances, allowed to garden again. Anyone who could conger up the demonic equivalent of the magic beanstalk from Jack and the Beanstalk couldn't be trusted with plants to any capacity. If only Vergil could find a hobby that didn't end in people dying...

As they had continued onward, however, things had become a bit more hazardous. And as they neared their destination, things took a radical turn towards danger. The first dozen or two Empusa Queens hadn't been too hard to deal with. They were nothing new. But then the Behemoths decided to team up with the Chaos and Riot demons, and the Lusachia started showing up in droves. It was all a bit much to deal with at once, but when the Pyrobats showed up, they decided that they were done casually dealing with this. Dante's twin pistols Ebony and Ivory made quick work of the flying menaces, while Vergil took out the Behemoth's with concerning speed and efficiency. As soon as the last Pyrobat had died, Dante turned his attention to the Chaos. It had seemingly been sizing him up from across the battleground for a while now, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Dante bent over and placed his hands on his knees, gesturing between himself and the demon playfully. "What's wrong little guy, all bark and no bite?"

The demon, seemingly understanding Dante's little jab at him, snarled in rage before coiling up into a tight blade-lined disk and rocketing towards him at blistering speed. Dante smirked to himself and drew Cavaliere, readying it for a charge attack. Just a the demon was about to collide with him, Dante effortlessly swung the hulking bike blade into the hapless creature, shattering its razor-sharp bladed scales in an explosion of fuel fueled flames and exploding sparks. With just one well-placed strike, he had immobilized and disoriented the creature, effectively killing it. With one last powerful over the shoulder downward strike, he finished off the creature. The confused beast cried out in a mixture of pain and shock before flopping down onto the ground and dying.

Dante put Cavaliere away and stood back up just in time to come face to face with a Riot. He leaped backward several feet the very instant that the creature's long needle-like claws would have connected with his throat, reaching back to retrieve his blade from its resting place on his back as he landed. Just as he stepped forward to imbed his blade into the screeching demon's brain, a blindingly fast downward strike from Yamato's blade took the creature by surprise in much the same way that it had attempted to do with Dante. The demon howled in pain one last time as Vergil slowly sheathed his blade with a ringing click that sent the creature careening to the floor in two halves. Yamato's blade had split it down the middle effortlessly.

The area was once again silent with only the ambient sounds of the underworld to provide any indications of life. The twins were left facing each other surrounded yet again by the corpses of their enemies. Dante shook his head and let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a loud exhale as Vergil looked down at the dead monstrosity at his feet. If the younger twin hadn't known his older brother better, he would have sworn that he had just come to his rescue. Not that he particularly needed it, but it did seem that way.

Vergil stepped over the fallen demon and walked past Dante, heading in the direction they had been going in before. It was much easier to discern now that they were so close. It was a wall of demonic thorn-covered trees with dead-looking semi translucent black leaves sparsely covering them. The ground looked much like a hardened pyroclastic flow, white glowing vines snaking across the ground as they pulsated with a faint luminescence. Through the treeline, what seemed to be a river snaked through the underbrush against the bottom of a cliff face before flowing over the edge of the plateau the surrounding area was perched on. The deep azure liquid had an almost silver sheen to it that meant that it was almost certainly not water but was mystifying nonetheless.

"I get the idea that you've killed a lot of those." Dante kidded as he caught up with him, noting the way that his brother had effortlessly finished off the Chaos.

Vergil glanced back at him as he approached, slowing slightly as if to allow his brother a chance to catch up. "I lost count or care long before today of how many of those useless pests I've exterminated. They are innumerable and seemingly unending." Vergil spoke in a way that indicated to Dante that he was more than over dealing with these creatures. It was almost funny how sick of them he seemed to be. But considering how long he'd spent dealing with them, it made sense.

After a few minutes of nearly silent walking, they reached the treeline. As Dante stepped forward, Vergil held out his arm, stopping just shy of touching his twin brother. Dante raised an eyebrow at him, but took the hint and halted his movement. Had Vergil changed his mind? Was this the wrong place? Did he hear something? "Change your mind, Vergil?" Dante inquired passively. Whatever the issue was, he hadn't clued into it.

Vergil lowered his arm and tilted his head in the direction of the treeline. They were standing close to one of the red and black thorn-covered trees. "... I'd advise against touching one of these barbed trees."

Dante looked back and forth between Vergil and the trees. Yes, they looked like oversized thorn bushes, but they weren't exactly walking through this place naked. Vergil closed his eyes and exhaled, clueing into his brother's lack of concern. "These are Daturademonica, a relative of the Qliphoth. Only instead of feeding on human blood, they have an unquenchable thirst for the souls of the living. And unlike the Qliphoth, they are sentient."

Sentient demon trees that sucked the souls out of their victims. Just what they needed. "So if these things suck your soul out if you touch them or whatever, what are we doing here?" Dante inquired, totally at a loss for what could possibly be worth going into this deathtrap over.

Vergil took a step towards said deathtrap, assessing the best place to enter. Most of the sharp branches pointed upward, but the trees were still covered in long needle-like thorns. "Because most beings, living or dead, are not unintelligent enough to set foot in this place. We will encounter no meaningful resistance here, aside from the trees themselves." Vergil stepped under a branch, standing slightly to the side to allow Dante to pass him. "Mind the gap," Vergil said almost sarcastically," I believe I've failed to mention that these thorns are razor-sharp and coated with a sedative."

Dante shook his head in amused disbelief and stepped under the branches, following Vergil into the forest of death. Vergil always did have an askew sense of humor. Well, they both did, but that was neither here nor there.

They navigated the underbrush and vines with care. The same vines that snaked across the ground also hung from the tree branches, bringing the deadly spiked appendages closer than comfortable to them in a few instances. Despite their careful navigation, Vergil seemed intent to pass through this area as quickly as possible. Dante ducked around another branch, doing an unintentional double-take when the branch moved back around and placed itself in his path again. That was odd, he hadn't moved that to start with...

"Is there a problem?" Vergil asked, stopping for a moment to turn and make sure that Dante was still following him as closely as he had been before. When he noticed the almost puzzled look on his brother's face, a note of -was that concern?- passed over his face. "Tell me you didn't touch it..." The words were spoken in an almost breathless whisper.

Dante didn't show it outwardly, but he was actually more surprised by Vergil's concern for him than he was thrown off by the tree's unexplained movement. "No, I didn't... do these damn trees move?" Dante looked back and forth between his brother and the tree as he closed the distance between them.

Vergil stealthily exhaled the breath he hadn't noticed that he was holding and waited for him. That could have ended decidedly worse. "Did I not say moments ago that they were sentient?"

Dante shrugged as they resumed walking. "I didn't think you meant that they could move Vergil! I thought they could tell we were here or something."

After a few hurried moments of walking, Vergil stopped and ducked under one of the branches. "This entire forest functions as a sort of venus flytrap. The Daturademonica can discern our location, based off of where we walk. If given an opportunity, they will attempt to strike. But no matter. We've reached the clearing."

Dante followed his brother under the branch and into the clearing, making sure to stand clear of the trees. Keeping his soul inside of his body wasn't exactly low on his list of priorities. He looked out across the clearing and took in their surroundings. The once distant cliff was now only a few yards away, a small indent in it forming an enclosure just shy of a cave. There was a substance covering the ground that was reminiscent of grass, except it was grey and possessed a texture somewhat similar to moss. The water seemed to have an audible hum to it now that they were close enough to hear it, which was more than a little strange considering that it was a liquid, but it still maintained the same intense shine that it had when Dante had seen it from the entrance before.

It was all very beautiful in a haunting sort of way.

While the youngest Son of Sparda had been taking in his surroundings, the eldest of the two had repositioned himself at the edge of the river with his back to his twin. After an uncomfortably long moment of intense silence, things were starting to become uncomfortable. Vergil was staring quietly at the "water", seemingly lost in thought and it was clear that he had something to say that he wasn't saying. Dante sighed and approached him. What was the worst thing that could happen?

Well... best not find out the answer to that one...

"Should I even ask if this water is drinkable," Dante inquired as he kneeled over his twin. Vergil's eyes glanced up briefly to acknowledge his presence, but he didn't budge from his position.

"... I don't want you to be trapped down here with me."

Dante scoffed at the suddenness of his brother's statement. It was inevitable that they would have this "conversation" at some point, but right now? "You probably don't, but you need me to be." Dante knew that his statement was painfully true. There's was a complicated relationship indeed, and neither of them really comprehended the unending toxic nature of it. And at this point, they had stopped trying to. They were about ready to just accept it as a fact.

Vergil sighed in what seemed to be mild annoyance. "You have other more important things that should be occupying your time. I can find my way around down here just fine."

Dante almost laughed at the statement. Oh, really? "That doesn't change the fact that the last time I left you down here you ended up a slave to your mortal enemy and then I had to kill you," Dante felt a wave of revulsion wash over him at the very thought," Oh, and you took up the most deadly gardening hobby I've ever seen! How could I forget?"

Vergil let out a low growl of annoyance at the statement and stood up to face his younger twin, his rapid response giving off a level of hostility that he didn't intend. "You don't need to remind me, Dante. I haven't forgotten."

Dante held up his hands as if to stop his brother. "I know that. But I'm not going anywhere your not going, Vergil. I've done that for decades and it's a worse hell than this cursed forest we're standing in!"

Vergil shifted in discomfort and let a long bothered sigh. "I don't belong in the human world, and you know it. Let's not lie."

Dante fanned his arms at his sides, flexing in irritation. "You don't belong down here, either. Nothing good has happened to you since you fell down here when we were kids. And besides, you have plenty waiting for you up there, too." Dante gestured up towards the sky for emphasis. On that note, was the underworld even technically below the human world if they were in two different planes of existence? Nevermind, that was beside the point.

"I'd ask you to give me one good reason I should return to the human realm, Dante, but I don't think you have one" Vergil was clearly incensed by. It was a rare moment of pure emotion, though Dante could tell it was borne of something other than just anger. To say that Vergil was emotionally complicated was an understatement, but Dante wasn't going to just drop this and leave him down here alone again. It would be the ruin of them both.

"Give you a reason," Dante grumbled through almost clenched teeth," I could give you two reasons, Vergil, but I don't know if it would do any good."

Vergil stared at him in silence for a long moment before looking away. His posture slowly migrated into an almost defeated slump before he spoke again. "What then, brother? What then?" There was no anger in the words as he spoke them under his breath. Vergil would never admit it, but he was tired. He had been fighting everything and anything nearly his entire life. But as of late, he was losing the tolerance to argue with his brother. In their time apart, Dante had grown and become difficult to argue down; more sure in his resolve than he had seemingly once been. It was impressive but troublesome how difficult it now was to push his once eager to fight twin past the breaking point.

Dante exhaled slowly and, in an action that took Vergil slightly off guard, he extended his arm and placed his hand on his older twin's shoulder, shaking him gently. Vergil looked up at him and they locked gazes. After a moment of shared silence, Dante's unspoken point seemed to sink in. There were no words adequate to express what the youngest of Sparda's sons wanted to convey. "... Look, Vergil... If you won't do it for me or yourself, I get that." Dante sighed almost dejectedly," But if you won't do it for our sake... then do it for Nero's. He doesn't know you can do better, and he's not going to if you stay down here and run from your mistakes for the rest of your life."

Vergil stared at his brother blandly and visibly swallowed, chewing on the inside of his jaw as he closed his eyes and pulling away from him. He stood with his back to his brother in silence with his arms folded, looking out across the haunting expanses of the underworld. For the first time in a long time, Vergil was visibly shaken and upset. Dante had managed to strike a never he didn't even realize he possessed until now. Dante stared at his back, waiting for him to respond. He had to eventually.

A minute passed like this. The two. Then three. The discomfort only grew more volatile the longer the silence lingered. Finally, after what had to be a solid ten minutes, Vergil unfolded his arms and lowered them to his sides. He gripped Yamato's scabbard tightly in his hand but didn't move to draw it. This wasn't something he could fight with a blade, and that was perhaps the thing that unnerved him the most. The eldest Son of Sparda inhaled and then, after a long moment, exhaled in one long slow breath.

"... Do you think Nero would even talk to me? After everything I've done?"

Dante could practically feel the pain and despair in his twin brother's question. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Vergil had let his carefully cultivated shell crack, and the repressed feelings that he had been holding onto for so long were starting to slip through. Dante was taken aback, but he stepped forward and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder again. "You have to ask him that. I've got some things to answer for as far as he's concerned, too."

Vergil waited a moment before he spoke." He has no idea of the depths of my depravity, does he, Dante?"

Dante shook his head. "I conveniently left that part out when I told him about you being his old man after what happened with V." Dante paused when Vergil visually recoiled at the mention of that name. That entire situation was a bit unclear to him, but it seemed to deeply upset his twin. "Speaking of that, should I even ask who V really is and what the hell really happened to him. I mean, he was literally falling apart. Did you have something to do with that?"

Vergil looked like he wanted to avoid this topic even more than he wanted to face Nero again. "... Everything unfortunate that has ever happened to that child is probably my fault," Vergil snickered morbidly. "It is unfortunate that we ever crossed paths. Much like Nero, he was better off without me involved in his life..."

Dante shook his head. "You've got some prior with him, hu? How'd that happen?"

Vergil stared at him with a facial expression somewhere between discomfort and trepidation. Dante stared at him in confusion before transitioning to shocked disbelief. "...Vergil... you didn't... is he..."

Vergil stepped back and turned away from him, shifting Yamato into his dominant hand. His lack of an answer said everything it needed to. Dante sighed in disbelief. His brother wasn't normally so reckless. Or so he thought. Vergil unsheathed the demonic katana and cut a cross in the air in front of him, sheathing the blade as a portal opened before them. "... That is... a matter for another time. For now, we should leave before I change my mind."

Dante shook out of his disbelief and allowed elation to overwhelm him. Did he just hear his brother wrong, or was he insinuating that he was willing to return? "You're coming back with me after all then?

Vergil nodded once. "Hurry up before I come to my senses."

Dante wasted no time. His questions could wait until they were home and then he could get the answers to his pressing questions. He crossed the distance between them in an instance, waiting for Vergil to step through the portal before him. The Youngest Son of Sparda was many things, but he wasn't stupid enough to let Vergil come through the portal last. After all, the last time he went through a portal, Vergil had chosen to stay behind. But this time would be different. After all, there wasn't too much room to go lower from here, was there?

Vergil took a tentative breath, before stepping towards the portal. But before he could have second thoughts, the wind was promptly knocked out of him as he was firmly kicked in the back through the portal. He flew through the portal to whatever place was on the other side, disappearing behind the reflective black surface of the mirror-like portal.

"That's for breaking my damn sword, Vergil," Dante said with a slight laugh. And with that, he walked through the portal and into the unknown to join his brother. For the first time in a long time, they were in this together.

-~-

Thanks for reading the Prologue! The next chapter will be available very soon, and you can read it here and in the links in my bio. Have a wonderful day and stay safe! Also, thanks to this angel for helping me figure out why this post was coming out as one giant paragraph!

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skvaderarts · 5 years

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Nightmares and "Nightmare"

Nightmares play an amazing roll in the Devil May Cry narrative.

I find it in interesting that in the original Devil May Cry, Dante had a hell of a time against Nightmare. Not to mention the fact that when he was consumed by that creepy pile of bones and slime that he would have to fight Nelo Angelo. I feel like this is some kind of internal fear that is mostly overlooked, especially considering the circumstances of the fight, Dante's history of nightmares and flashbacks to his youth, and how the events on Mallet Island went on there structured Dante's life after that.

And then when V fights "Nightmare" it's an even greater ordeal than it was the second time around. Dante went in with weapons and the physical powers needed to stand a chance against Nightmare, and he managed to defeat it after several grueling battles. V was the complete opposite. He went in unarmed, taken off guard, and tired with only a vague idea of what he was going up against in that wrecked church. And he didn't just defeat Nightmare... He conquered him.

I feel like this difference 1) cannot be stressed enough in the context of these two fights 2) have much more to do with the willpower, mindset, and strength of V and Dante as individuals. They are both incredibly strong people, but V's true strength comes in the form of his resolve and problem loving skills where Dante's comes in his combat and willingness to make very hard choices for the betterment of the world around him regardless of the negative impact that it has on him personally.

It's a difference of selflessness vs acceptance between Dante and V respectively.

Let me explain.

By the point in Visions of V's story that V encounters Nightmare, he already has Griffon and Shadow. Although powerful, they do not stand a chance against Nightmare and it is stated that although Mundus is Nightmare's creator, he himself could never bend the immensely powerful creature to his will. When V encounters Nightmare, he looks his greatest fears and criticisms in the face and acknowledges them, using this moment to take his opponent's core. But instead of destroying it, he gives it back to Nightmare and at the cost of great physical damage to himself, he forces Nightmare to bend to his will. He could have killed Nightmare, but he chose to command him. In his own words he says he did not gift the demon back its power, he "bestowed it" to show that he was in control.

When Dante fights Nightmare, he does so with the hope of destroying it like any other demon he encounters. But Nightmare's mind games are worse than any of its physical attacks. What better hell than the one we create for ourselves inside of our own minds? Why break down an enemy if they can do it to themselves. There is no wrong approach to dealing with Nightmare, only the simple understanding that much like their own issues, they must overcome him. Nightmare is a physical manifestation of everything that eats away at them. He preys on their self-image, vulnerability, and relationships with those close to them because that's more important and harmful to them than anything else.

The roll nightmare plays is as symbolic as it is interesting. Both Dante and V are literally fighting their worst fears in many respects and being forced to deal with them. V has to deal with the duality of not wanting to experience his nightmares any longer, but having to physically make them a part of himself in order to become strong enough to overcome greater challenges. Dante fights Nightmare on Mallet Island before and after defeating Vergil, and he is the last fight before facing Mundus. He does this after receiving Vergil's half of the amulet and unlocking the Sparda's true power. There is some interesting symbolism there.

Their differences do not make one of them objectively better than the other, but they highlight the fact that much like their coping methods and fighting styles, they handle things differently due to different viewpoints and experiences. Regardless of the situation they find themselves in, they are willing to make hard decisions and sacrifices in order to achieve their goals. Even though they are totally different as individuals, they have a lot in common. The major differences come down to personality and approach. They just have different ways of dealing with their demons. No pun intended.

I need to stop replaying DMC1 on the Switch at 3am.

But I have nothing better to do since my laptop hates me atm and I've been trying to fix it for almost a week so and I can't effectively work on my 150 prompts so...

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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I just opened up Google Docs and realized that I've been working on an outline for literally one day shy of a year, and I have neve started the story. Like, I can't even write an outline! Screw it, I'm just gonna write it already!

Also, I have a cool anouncement to make sometime soon. Just have to finish a few things first. It has to do with that questionare I asked everyone to do last year, so thanks for your help!

#devil may cry #v devil may cry v #v devil may cry 5 #v devil may cry #skvaderthoughts #skvaderarts #SkvaderStories #SkvaderWrites

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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Soliloquy Chapter 1: Advent

You can check out the Masterlist here for more links to places to read!

Otherwise, you can read the new chapter below!

Chapter One: Advent

Stepping through the portal that Vergil had cut through the fabric of time and space was perhaps the most disorienting thing that Dante had experienced in his entire life. Well, maybe that was an understatement. Everything about being on Malet Island had been a massive trip into a new dimension of confusion and headaches. But this was a very close second. Everything seemed to go faster than it normally did but, at the same time, things were slow enough to take in and try to comprehend. It was a blur of bright light that fluctuated from blisteringly bright to suffocatingly dark that seemed to transcend time and space itself. And that was probably because it did transcend time and space itself.

Oh, and it was probably the most nauseating experience Dante had gone through in a long time.

As quickly as it had started, it ended. Although experience had taken less than a few seconds, it had felt more like a minute. Dante landed feet first on the cobblestone pavement, his head swaying slightly before he shook it to regain his senses. He stretched before looking around to gain a bearing on his location. Vergil was in the process of standing up and brushing himself off, as he hadn’t landed quite as gracefully as he normally did. Being kicked in the back spartan style through a tear in reality tended to do that to a person.

“Dang it,” Dante scoffed, trying and failing to repress a playful snicker,” I was hoping you’d land on your sword. You know, see what it feels like for yourself for once.”

Vergil straightened his coat and turned around to face Dante. He couldn’t have looked more unamused if he tried to. “Oh, I am very aware of what it feels like, brother.”

Dante shook his head and let out a short laugh. “How’d that happen? You stab yourself with your own sword?!”

Vergil didn’t answer his brother’s rhetorical question. Instead, he opted to just stare at him blankly, his silence saying everything that it needed to given the context of the situation. After a moment Dante slowly stopped laughing and stared back at him, a look somewhere disbelief and confusion crossing his face. “... Wow… um, yea... You need professional help, Vergil. That’s… that’s pretty messed up. You okay?”

In an unflinching display of unamused irritation, Vergil shook his head once. “Absolutely not.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. The alley they stood in was a veritable audio sink. Barely any ambient noise from the nearby road traveled far enough down this dead-end inlet to pierce the uncomfortable silence. Though neither of the twins would ever admit it, they were starting to notice how bad they were at basic conversation with one another. It was actually astounding how quickly almost every conversation they had turned to an unpleasant experience that dwelled on topics neither of them wanted to relive. Dante shifted in discomfort, switching his center of gravity back and forth between his left and right feet. He shook his head and sighed, looking down at the pavement for a moment before looking back up at this troubled brother again. What on earth went through his twin’s mind sometimes. “Seriously Vergil, you okay?”

The eldest Son of Sparda gave his brother a thoughtful look before turning to walk towards the end of the alley. Dante opted to follow him, coming to the conclusion that he had reached his tolerance for genuine progress with his brother today. Vergil didn’t seem to be equipped to deal with continuous emotional conversation, and Dante wasn’t going to try and force him. He’d made it a decent amount of time without finding Yamato embedded in his sternum, and his older twin had shown an unusually high amount of restraint in not putting it there.

The twins stepped out onto the main sidewalk and were greeted by the blinding light of the early morning sun peeking over the rooftops of the adjacent street. A stray car or two passed on either side of the road, contributing to what little noise there was to be heard. Rows of attached business lined the street, some with apartments above them. A few quaint townhouses were squeezed in between the shops; a few planters with thin birch trees sprouting from them lined the sidewalks providing a comfortable amount of shade to pedestrians. The smell of salty water permeated the air as a light breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. It was almost picturesque.

They both stood there quietly for a moment, silently taking in the calm. It was the first time in a long time that they had experienced this kind of quiet serenity. The first time in an immeasurably long time that they had just enjoyed silence the presence of each other’s company. Vergil glanced around the street, taking in the area. Just as he did, the vintage brass streets lights flickered off, their automated timer taking note of the ambient light level. Something seemed to occur to him, causing him to stop and turn to his younger twin. “Where are we then?” He spoke plainly, seemingly trying to change the subject from their previous conversation. Dante decided to chalk it up as a loss for now and simply move on. There would be another time. They had plenty of time.

He glanced up and down the street, taking in their surroundings. This area seemed vaguely familiar to him. He could almost sware that he had been here before, but wasn’t sure how recently or for what purpose. This wasn’t a part of town he spent much time in, but at least he knew what town they were in. “Capulet. Pretty sure this is Capulet.”

Vergil nodded slowly, seeming considering this for a moment. “Which way then?” Dante shrugged obtusely. “Can’t say for sure. I don’t spend much time down by the waterfront. I live further inland from here. You know, where all the crime is.”

Vergil scoffed at the comment, shaking his head. His twin brother really was something else, wasn’t he? Before he could enquire as to possible context clues or landmarks they could use to regain their bearings, Dante stepped forward and looked down the long street towards the right, nodding in confirmation to himself as if he’d figured something out. He casually started to walk in the direction he was facing, gesturing over his shoulder for Vergil to follow him as he headed away from where they had just been. “It’s this way. Now I recognize this place. Had a run-in with an interesting demon on a foggy morning a while back around here. Tried to take my head off with two blades,” He kept a steady pace up the street as Vergil caught up with him in the blink of an eye,�� There’s a park up this way. It’s basically the center of town. Once we get there, I can tell where we are.”

With that, the pair walked briskly towards the end of the block, crossing the oversized roundabout that surrounded the square into the park. The lush greenery of the hedges that surrounded the park was bordered by a tall wrought iron fence. Each of the four crosswalks that connected to this central park area was aligned with entry gates for ease of foot traffic flow, so they didn’t have any issues finding a way in. The twins entered the park and followed the path into the central plaza where they both came to a stop for a moment to figure out their current position.

“We need to go this way, Vergil. Vergil?”

Just as Dante was going to question his brother’s silence and explain that they should go north from here towards the upper part of the hillside to reach his office, he stopped. Something had seemingly drawn Vergil’s attention, as he was standing slightly off to the side, only half facing him. Dante allowed his gaze to follow his older brother’s and then stopped once his eyes landed at the object of Vergil’s fascination.

Fuck… How on earth had he forgotten about the statue?

Capulet City was well known in the region for a few unfortunate happenings over the years, a status that had now been totally dwarfed by the calamitous Redgrave City Disaster. While being the resting place of the once again slumbering Temen-ni-gru was nothing to scoff at, and Abigale’s fires had raged for several days after the gargantuan demon had lit the town ablaze during his attack, being a mecca for demonic activity was, while an unattractive trait for a city to possess, a totally different thing entirely from having an entire city literally turned inside out from the tectonic plates up. But, one of the few good things the city was known for was this park and its towering onyx statue of the Dark Knight Sparda astride his dark steed, a horse that, in retrospect, was almost certainly a Geryon. People came from far and wide to take pictures of the monument the city had erected to the dark knight over the now filled in hole where Temen-ni-gru had once emerged from the earth. And in the process of trying to find their way home, Dante had completely forgotten that the stature was here as he had grown so accustomed to seeing it over the years that he didn’t even register it as he passed by it today. To be succinct, there were several things about this park that he had put out of his day to day thoughts, this fine piece of craftsmanship included.

Vergil seemed to be taking a moment to consider it, having not set foot here during or since it’s construction over a decade ago. The art installation’s significance was not lost on the eldest Son of Sparda, nor was it’s geographic location. They could both sense the demonic tower below them, a powerful reminder of the underworld’s never-ending connection to the human world. But then again, nothing about their father was lost on him. Not his legend, not his legacy, and most certainly his bottomless grief at his sudden and unexplained disappearance. They were all things he still carried with him and would never shed; a forthright burdon anchoring him firmly in all things that he did. Vergil shifted his gaze downward and then away from the monolith, quietly dispelling the profound internal battle that he would never win for now.

It was a simple, immutable fact that he still mourned their father’s loss and always would. He just hadn’t dwelled on it in a long while now.

Dante didn’t need to say anything. Interrupting his brother’s train of thought to garner the answer to a question that he already knew the answer too would be utterly pointless and unkind, and this was one silence he was willing to wait out for the sake of its importance. After what felt like a decade, Vergil finally turned back to his brother and joined him at his side, eager to leave this place and his unbridled feelings of grief behind him. He drifted past Dante as he approached, not making eye contact. “... Which way is it then? Or are we still lost?”

The younger twin pointed towards the northwest, taking a mental note of Vergil’s understandably unaccommodating mood. “It’s up there, probably about a mile or so. If we’re lucky, we might make it before one of the girls burns it down in a fit of rage or something.”

Vergil didn’t speak. He simply nodded in silence and followed Dante in the correct direction. Despite the fact that they were just traversing normal human streets, he couldn’t have felt more out of his element if he’s tried. It was the first time in a long time that he’d simply walked somewhere and something hadn’t jumped out and tried to kill him. And he didn’t have the emotion reserves left to contemplate how that made him feel right now.

-~-

The front of the office was surprisingly just as Dante had left it. The doors were still attached for once and the front windows were still intact. The only notable difference was the lack of light coming from the sign out front. It was only then that something occurred to the younger twin: how long had they been gone? It had only felt like a day or two, but unless the sign had shorted out (again) then they had been gone a little longer than he’s originally thought.

“So um Vergil,” Dante started as they approached the front steps,” About how long do you think we were gone?”

Vergil stopped as if to consider the question for a moment. He’d been quiet for about fifteen minutes now, more than likely still lingering on his internal baggage. “That could be rather hard to tell. Much like the human world, time works in zones in the underworld. The time discrepancies are just a bit more… pronounced in some places than they are here. Some parts of the underworld are stagnant and don’t have time at all. Some don’t even have a day and night cycle. And they are all prone to shift under certain circumstances.”

Dante sighed. “So we could have been gone ten minutes or ten years for all we know. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

Vergil shook his head. “Let me clarify. At best, we’ve been gone a few days, at most a few weeks. Volatile as the underworld’s perception of time maybe, I can’t think of a region where time distorts quite that far in the timespan of fewer than three days.”

Dante shrugged as they started up the front steps. “Nothing I can do about it now. But I guess that explains why you kinda look younger than me now, at least.”

Before Vergil could retort, a faint male voice on the other side of the door could be heard. It was unfamiliar to him. The voice was accompanied by the sounds of two other female voices from what his keen sense of hearing could pick up, but he couldn’t discern any of the owners. From what he could make out, the man was saying something about the rent not being free and him having the deed to something.

Dante smirked and shook his head, snickering under his breath. This was no mystery to him. “Good to see that they are still hanging around.”

Just as Vergil was going to ask what Dante was going on about, the doors to the front of the office burst open, and out came one of three people came out. Vergil was correct in his assumptions of their genders from what he could tell, but the man he didn’t recognize at all. The man stopped dead in his tracks and let out a loud, clearly overjoyed laugh. “Well, I’ll be damn! Where the hell have you been for so long, Dante!”

At the mention of Dante’s name, the two women who were just stepping through the doorway (presumably walking a short distance behind him) raced ahead and stopped dead in their tracks. In unison, both of them shouted Dante’s name, shock, concern, and disbelief heavy in their tone. The trio stepped forward and immediately set upon the youngest Son of Sparda, greeting him happily. The one with the black hair that Vergil now recognized as Arkham’s daughter (though he couldn’t remember her name) Immediately batted at him in frustration. “You crazy bastard! I was starting to think you weren’t coming back!” The well-dressed man in the hat reached up and removed it, clasping it in his hand as he laughed a the scene unfolding in front of him. Dante seemed to be about three seconds shy of catching a bullet from his younger friend. She was clearly less than amused with his leave of absence.

“You’ve been gone for six weeks, Dante,” A familiar voice spoke,” I was just starting to wonder I you were coming back myself...”

Vergil felt a barely contained barrage of complex emotions hit him at the sight of the blond devil. Her presence truly took him off guard in the worst way possible. He wasn’t sure if he was showing his seething rage, and he’s wasn’t entirely sure if he cared at this moment in time either. Though no one had seemingly noticed his presence quite yet as he was standing at the bottom of the stairs and slightly behind his brother. But he recognized her anywhere. How could he forget such an instrumental person from his time on Malet Island?

“What the girls are trying to say is that you have perfect timing because we were just having a little conversation about this,” The older gentleman produced a white envelope from his pocket and returned it to Dante in one elegant movement, still laughing to himself as he did so.

Dante shook his head and allowed a smirk to cross his face. “You guys are just the worst, ya know that. I mean, I take a vacation for a few weeks and you figure I’m not coming back?” There was a tone of humor to his jest that was immediately lost when he glanced back over his shoulder and recalled the fact that Vergil was still with him. And that he looked undeniably pissed. It wasn’t something that anyone else but him would probably pick up on, but it didn’t slip past him for a second. “Um, Vergil?” Three additional sets of eyes followed Dante to his brother as he said his name, just noticing him for the first time in their excitement. Lady looked shocked, to say the least, Morrison was looking back and forth between the twins in obvious bewilderment and Trish… well, Trish and Vergil were making what was perhaps the most uncomfortable eye contact of their respective lives. Vergil seemed to be looking into her more than he was at her, obviously thinking rather intensely and Trish was returning his stare, albeit with a look of caution akin to the sort that you would give a big cat that looked ready to attack if you approached it in the wild.

It took Dante all of about three milliseconds to figure out what the issue was here and, although he didn’t understand the history behind it, he wasn’t stupid enough to be ignorant of the notion that Trish and Vergil had prior. And he also wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that Vergil was very clearly considering entering devil trigger and ripping her throat out with his bare hands. Dante carefully placed himself just close enough between them that it made further action on either of their ends unfeasible and he shot Vergil a look, clearly asking him what was going on. Trish took the opportunity to step towards the others and give the twins a parting look, silent trepidation evident in her gaze. “... We were just leaving. Let’s have this conversation later.”

Dante wasn’t sure which of them she was actually addressing, but he didn’t get much time to think about it as, as if from nowhere, a loud screech split through the air. Everyone stopped and turned their head in the direction of the van that had just pulled up, missing the stairs and the side of the building by mere centimeters. Dante would’ve laughed at the awful timing if it might not have been the spark that could set everything alight. He heard a car door open and then slam shut on the opposite side of the car and then a familiar face stepped around the front of the car. The white-haired young man stopped dead in his tracks as if he had just been slammed face-first into an invisible brick wall. He stared in evident shock, wide-eyed at the sight before him before taking a decided far left into instantaneous, unbridled rage, his casual demeanor shattering like glass. At that, Dante let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and chuckled to himself under his breath. Nero really was Vergil’s son, wasn’t he? “Hey, Nero…”

The younger white-haired man shot him a look of white-hot seething rage mixed with other emotions he couldn’t quite place, but he knew they were probably bad nonetheless. Oh shit.

“Dante,” Nero shouted at the top of his lungs,” What the fuck is this bullshit?!”

And then he triggered.

… Oh shit...

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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50K Words 12 chapters. I can’t thank you enough. Truly.

I just wanted to say thank you for all the people who have been reading Soliloquy. I wrote a full statement on my website at the link below, but it’s important that I take the time to say I appreciate every single one of you.

THANK YOU A BUNCH!

https://skvaderarts.wixsite.com/skvaderarts/post/a-quick-thank-you-for-50k-words-and-twelve-chapters-of-support-your-all-amazing

#Thank You #thank you for following me #thanks Tumblr #Thank you all #thank you anon #A03 #a03 fanfic #SkvaderArts #SkvaderStories #SkvaderFics #DMC #DMC5 #DMCV #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry 5 #Devil May Cry V

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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Chapter Twelve: Dauntless

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Chapter Twelve: Dauntless

Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the last chapter! I was pretty tired when I edited it, so I’m sorry for any errors. I’ll be more careful and try to go back soon and correct anything I see. In the meantime, I want to thank Random Reader Nothing Special, BeansWithBones, and HunterJamie for their continued support. I always love talking to you guys! Now, back to the chapter! This one is going to be very... interesting. Haha!

-~-

There was nothing visible within the inky blackness. No light pierced the veil, seemingly holding back all time and rendering distance irrelevant and imperceivable. Regardless of how far he reached in either direction, he never touched anything and the sensation of weightlessness he felt was disputed by the lack of air friction but felt nonetheless. Yet somehow he seemed to travel rapidly downward, the sensation of his stomach dropping being the only concrete indicator of any movement at all. After all, it was so dark in here that he could simply have gone blind. He would have no way of telling. Being this deprived of his senses wasn’t reassuring, but until he figured out what was going on, there was no way of knowing.

As V stood (or floated or fell downward... there wasn’t really a way of knowing for sure) within the dimensional equivalent of a sensory deprivation tank, he internally acknowledged that although he should feel threatened or concerned, he didn’t. There was something strangely familiar about this place that he couldn’t quite place. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that he had been here before. But that wasn’t possible... was it? After all, he should remember that. Or maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe the part of him that swore up and down that it had been here before was the only part of his subconscious that recalled a prior visit to this hellscape. How could he possibly say for sure?

In the blink of an eye, V suddenly felt every muscle in his body tense as he was hit with a powerful gust of air. As it grew in intensity, it dropped in temperature, the once oven-like heat taking on an otherworldly chill that sent him sliding back towards some unknown destination. Or it could have been forward for all he knew. It was literally impossible for him to tell at this point, especially with his arms folded around himself to protect his body from the unearthly force that pressed against him. It didn’t take long for him to lose his center of balance and topple to the side, launching forwards on what he could only assume was the floor. However, when he made physical contact with it, he found that it was soft and pliable, almost buoyant. The liquid clung to him but didn’t stick, possessing a quality similar to that of oil in water. Every bead of the abyssal substance ran off of his skin like it was coated in a hydrophobic substance. Every part of his body that made contact with it tingled slightly in response, and he was unsure if this was a good or a bad thing. Regardless, it was strange how much colder it was than the already freezing air. While not cold enough to remove any skin, it was more than a little bit uncomfortable.

V launched himself to his feet, pushing himself upward with a quick press against the ground. To his shock, he kept tumbling backward instead of landing on his feet. It was as if the floor had rotated to keep him from gaining the upper hand. As he cartwheeled backward headfirst, he gained speed, flipping more times than he could even try to count. As he did so, his breathing became slightly frantic. Where was he going to land? Was he going to land at all? What if he was trapped here forever and this was how he would spend the rest of his natural (or unnatural) life? Did time even pass in this place? Had the entire day before this been nothing but a fever dream as he passed into eternal damnation? The idea of being stuck here quite literally spiraling out of control forever sure made it seem plausible.

“I need to regain my control over this situation,” He thought to himself with finality,” However I came to be in this place is irrelevant. I refuse to stay here any longer. If I could just stop-”

The very instant that the world “stop” passed through his mind, his body hit the ground with a heavy smack, knocking the wind out of him. The once soft material that he had touched merely a few moments before now felt like asphalt, a substance that he was all too familiar with falling onto. Every part of his body ached, although he somehow knew that he hadn’t broken anything. It was more like a toothache, a dull throb that traveled through every inch of his body leaving him immobile and uncomfortable. Thankfully, his pain threshold was legendarily high, so the instant his breath returned to him, he blinked and carefully clambered to his feet.

“I can only assume that you brought me here for a reason?” V asked cautiously. He had no idea the limits of the power that his place possessed.

The darkness did not respond. Instead, it remained woefully silent, unwilling, or perhaps unable to answer his question. He inhaled, unwilling to take silence for an answer. He hadn’t come here of his own volition, at least to his knowledge. He required answers. He was owed answers. And he was going to receive them.

“So you’re going to tell me that you are capable of manipulating this entire place,” V said gesturing casually to the vast nothingness that encompassed him,” but you are not capable of communicating? How disappointing.”

The air (if that was what he was in. Presumably. After all, he was breathing) became statically charged, causing his thin, lightweight white hair to float upward slightly, spreading out around his head. His arms tingled as the static wrapped around him, making every hair on his body regardless of how thin, stand at attention. He exhaled, lifting his arms to look at them. He almost expected there to be something physically present, but there was nothing. This reminded him of something all too familiar, but he dare not speak his thoughts into existence. There was no way that this could have anything to do with them.

…

“If you have some sort of wisdom to impart upon me, I’d appreciate it if you would do so. I do not desire to be here any longer than I already have been.”

Again, the vast emptiness did not reply. At least not verbally. The inky ground bubbled and churned as if it were about to produce something from within it. Several back abyssal spikes broke free from the ground and encircled him, growing closer to him as they closed him in completely. V stood his ground, now thoroughly fed up with whatever the hell was going on. No, this was going to stop. Now.

“Either make your demands or release me,” he said, completely unamused by this situation,” I’m done entertaining your games.”

Before he could say anything further, the wind returned. Only this time it hit him with the force of a freight train. The spikes encapsulating him from behind dropped into the ground and he went flying backward, tumbling weightlessly, except this time much harder and faster than he had before. Every molecule of air left his lungs and he gasped as he crashed with devastating force into the now almost completely solid surface that surrounded him. He never got the chance to figure out if it was the wall, floor, or ceiling because he was rendered unconscious upon impact. It was lights out the instant he made contact with whatever he had landed on.

The young white-haired man gasped and jolted into an upright position in his bed, gasping for breath. His hair flopped down onto his face, sticking to the sweat that he seemed to be soaked in. As he panted breathlessly in an attempt to grasp as much precious air as his lungs could contain, he moved his arms and jolted in shock. In the places where the black substance had gripped him, were the faint but now fading remnants of his former familiar’s tattoos. Specifically Griffon’s. The marking glowed brightly, emitting white light as it outlined the corresponding markings. After a moment, the light faded, allowing V a better look. His arms and part of his chest were covered in faint grey markings that were barely perceivable to the naked eye. But they were most certainly his former tattoos. Of that, there was no doubt. The only difference was they were completely depleted of their power, the vibrant black luster now absent in its entirety.

After a moment, the marking disappeared entirely, leaving his arms and chest bare again and his mind swirling with a plethora of thoughts and anxieties. Had his resurrection unleashed something within him? After all, the place that he had just been in seemed to be metaphysical in nature. He had woken up in his room again after his visit, and his body was still just as sore as it had been a few moments ago. And to top it all off, his head throbbed from the supposed impact he had made with the ground just moments ago. Some aspect of that had to be real, didn’t it?

It almost felt like he had brought something back with him when he had returned and he couldn’t even pretend that that wouldn’t have consequences later down the line. For now, he would take a shower. Perhaps the soothing water would calm his nerves and give him a much-needed reprieve to focus his thoughts and form a hypothesis as to how this had come about.

Things had made so much sense before all of this had happened.

He didn’t like his old life, but at least he didn’t visit other dimensions in his downtime.

-~-

V’s hair was still stuck to his face, only this time it was from water instead of midnight precipitation. He had changed into the alternate set of clothing that Kyrie had left him the day before and sat down on his bed, noticing for the first time that daylight shined in from outside. It was later in the day than he originally thought. There wasn’t much due to the storm that still raged beyond the safe confines of the house, but at least things had calmed down somewhat since last night. Before there was no light at all, as if the clouds themselves had absorbed it with their arrival.

He sat there for a moment, his wet hair dripping down onto his shirt. He didn’t really notice it, and if he had, he wouldn’t have minded. Something more was going on, and the longer he stayed here, the more pronounced the feeling of ever approaching danger became. He needed answers. Urgently. For perhaps the first time in his life, he didn’t know much of anything about what was going on, and that unnerved him greatly. As his mind tried to piece together a coherent string of thoughts, V stood up and walked over to the window. After pulling the curtains shut, he leaned his head against them, noting how cold the glass was even through the thick cloth.

During his shower, he had time to think. And during that time, something had occurred to him. For the first time in his entire life, he needed to make a decision that pertained to his family. V scoffed to himself at the thought of it. How preposterous, the idea that he was now part of something like this. Until yesterday, he had no idea what it was like to be loved; to be wanted and accepted unconditionally by others. For the majority of his life up until this point, he had been an outsider everywhere he went. His distinct white hair was quite the head-turner in public spaces, and his stature made it nearly impossible to blend in even though all he wanted was to assimilate and be overlooked. And now he had exactly what he wanted, but in a way he would have never fathomed possible.

More often than V would be willing to admit, he had sat and pondered the possibility of having a family somewhere out there, so much of his idle time and energy spent on possibilities and contingencies. But he didn’t have a plan of action for being loved and wanting to preserve the lives of those closest to him. Despite the fact that he barely knew Kyrie and the children, even Nero for that matter, it was undeniable that he felt… comfort when he was with them. That was something that he treasured. But what was that worth to him truly? Could he equate a worth to that?

It had been no coincidence that he should return and then have such a surreal out of body experience. And then there was this storm. It was anyone’s guess where his familiars had disappeared to when he had died, but he was willing to guess that simply returning to hell or fading into oblivion were off the table as possibilities. That was too simple, and they were not regular demons. Nightmares probably didn’t work the same way as your run of the mill lesser demon. After all, did a nightmare really ever die? Perhaps if they were forgotten, but even then the person who experienced them could still recall vague details about their dreams later down the line.

And then that presented another important question. Did V want his familiars back in the first place? While there was no question as to their loyalty and the strength of his relationship with them, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to devote himself to that path so fully. At the time that he had made his allegiances, he was presented with no other alternative. Literally backed into a corner, it was either fight or die, and he possessed no fighting experience or knowledge of how to control any abilities that he might possess. Was he ready to give up any possibility of a normal life and commit such a substantial part of being to this world that he had born so far from? When he had been raised away from the chaos that seemed to plague his family, he had been given a chance at a somewhat normal, if not arduous and miserable life. Somehow, even though he had never met the woman, he had the feeling that this wasn’t what his mother would have wanted for him. And a part of him respected and agreed with that sentiment. But another part of him resented the idea that he needed to be protected from his own existence. After all, if he truly was a descendant of Sparda, he couldn’t be that helpless. Maybe he just needed a teacher. From what little he had come into naturally, he knew he possessed abilities. Royal Fork was born purely from his will, no instruction required. And this nagging feeling of uncertainty that he felt now was almost assuredly supernatural in its insistence.

Did the need to repel danger at any cost constitute a choice at all?

By that notion, did anyone in his family truly have a choice in all this?

V gripped the curtains tightly, allowing his eyes to close before exhaling. He would always find the strength to embody the ideals that he stood for. The only issue here was that he had no idea what part he played in any of this. However, coincidences were something he was against on principle and he rejected them as a policy. If he actually thought that whatever was going on with this storm and his experience during the night were not somehow connected, then he was truly stupid. And although V was many things, stupid was not one of them. Before he could decide anything, he needed to be more informed. Going into things blindly had ended badly for him the last time.

Although he was the first to admit that he didn’t know very much about the island of Fortuna, he knew that this place had a history with demons. Word of the disaster here a few short years ago had reached the mainland in bits and pieces not long after it had occurred, and talk of magic and supernatural activity had shrouded the entire place in an air of mystery. Maybe he could ask Nero if he knew something about what had happened here. It was hard for him to believe that there could be a cataclysmic demonic invasion here and Nero hadn’t been involved somehow.

After taking a final breath to clear his overcrowded mind, he turned and headed to the bedroom door. He was tired already, and he hadn’t even been awake an hour yet. As he opened the door, the children ran past, more than likely headed in the direction of the stairs. Nero was standing just off to the side of the door talking on the phone with someone, although he hadn’t a clue who since he wasn’t talking loud enough to be heard clearly. Kyrie and Nico were nowhere to be seen, but he assumed they were somewhere nearby. A distant crash from inside of the garage followed by the sound of Nico cursing confirmed his suspicions. Some things never changed.

He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind himself just in time to hear Nero read off an address to someone and say something about seeing them soon before hanging up the phone. Nero turned, catching sight of V out the corner of his eye. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood from what V could decipher, his posture more relaxed than he was accustomed. Despite the three children playing not far from them, this was still a much less hostile environment than they were normally accustomed to being in. Wonderful. He could start his morning by totally killing the mood between them for the rest of the day. Just what he was going for.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Nero actually sounded somewhat surprised as he spoke,” I was wondering if you were getting up today.”

V glanced over on the small wall clock that hung over a mudroom rack near the entrance, noting that it was just shy of noon. He scoffed at the comment, seeming somewhat amused.

“Ironic. This is actually rather early for me, all things considered,” He replied nonchalantly as he leaned against his bedroom door,” I actually have a question for you, if you can spare a moment.”

Nero spared a glance in the direction of the children playing down the hall. They had parked themselves in the living room, not going upstairs as V had assumed. If V was willing to guess, they normally played outside, but the storm had forced them to hang out inside and they were making the best of an unideal situation. Understandable.

“Shoot. What is it?” Nero asked casually.

V crossed his arms, capitalizing on his position against the wall to provide him the balance he required. “I need in-depth information on demons, specifically pertaining to alchemy or binding. Is there anywhere in town that houses that sort of information?”

Nero gave him a sideways look, clearly wondering what he could want with that kind of information. He seemed to ponder the question deeply for a moment as if he were debating something. After a moment, he sighed. “... No. Not in town. But…” Nere glanced up and down the hallway as if he was checking to see if anyone was within earshot,”... There was this one bastard that worked for the Order, a huge asshole named Agnus. He has a lab outside of town in some giant castle that Sparda supposedly lived in forever ago. That place is loaded with books. It was abandoned after the Order fell apart after the attack.”

V took in the response, nodded to himself as he considered the validity of finding anything useful there. It seemed likely. “How do I get there?”

The look on Nero’s face spoke volumes. While he was curious about what V could possibly want with that wretched place, he decided to just go with it. But the last thing he was going to do was let him go there alone. That was just asking for trouble. There were traps everywhere, and just because the Hellgate had been destroyed didn’t mean that the place wasn’t still crawling with demons.

Nero took a step towards the door and grabbed his sword, reaching for his coat with the other. This was going to be a long day.

“Don’t worry about it. I can get you inside,” his mind was distant. Going back to the place where he had the first glimpse of his power was going to be very surreal,” I just hope whatever you want there is worth it. That place is nothing but trouble”

-~-

PHEW! I am so sleepy right now. But I made sure to check the grammar on this chapter better than the last one. I’m sure something slipped past me, but it has to be better than last time. Thanks for checking out this chapter! It was really fun to write, especially the voice section at the start. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on that one. I’d love to see if any of you can guess what’s up with that place. In the meantime, stay safe out there and I’ll see you on Wednesday, June 10th with another chapter! Take care!

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