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Desperate frustration flamed the devil sword to life.
Dante’s anger drove it under the hard scales of a Chaos demon and blood sprayed across his face. It did nothing to calm him down.
He jumped off the demon, guns replacing the sword. Bullets sunk in the fresh wound. A pained cry echoed around the large cavern.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the gleam of a blade. His body contorted, deflecting. He jumped back, landing firmly on his feet.
A Proto Angelo stalked towards him, green armoured and horned. A mockery of a nightmare Dante had dreamt on repeat for years.
“At least face me!” He yelled, spreading his hands wide in a clear invitation. The devil sword reappeared in his hand and he rushed the demon.
If they were going to rehash old memories the least Vergil could do was show his ugly mug. Dante snarled. "That the face of a king?"
His blade dragged against the ground, and the Angelo went flying on the upward swing. Balrog’s hot flames enveloped Dante's fists. He punched the demon, pouring all of his frustration in the attack.
His blood was alight. It pulsed and resonated harshly in his veins, making it impossible to stand still. He had to keep moving. He could sense the blue assed bastard from all the way up here, and it stirred him to his very core.
Dante jumped to the side, teleporting out of the way of an oncoming Chaos. His girls reappeared in his hands, and he shot at the spinning blades, sending the demon to the ground. Cavaliero was underneath him in a second and he ran over the creature with a satisfying crack of bones.
His heart pounded faster in his ribcage, making it hard to breathe. The poor organ was working overtime to make up for the hollow emptiness in his ribcage, courtesy of his brother.
“Not how I imagined this reunion, Verge.”
He slotted the two Kalina Anns together and held the trigger. It took everything in him not to release it immediately, but he didn’t have time to waste with the small fry.
The demons kindly lined up for him and he released the trigger. A burst of heat and light swept through the cavern, leaving him the only one standing.
The weapon fell heavy to the ground, and Dante followed it, breath coming out ragged.
He closed his eyes.
Not how he had imagined this, damn it.
Not how he had imagined it all.
His eyes traced the weeds blocking his way.
Not that he had any right to hope for anything. He’d killed his brother a long time ago, taken Vergil’s life instead of breaking the chains that held him prisoner.
Balrog enveloped his fists.
He'd been so stupidly sure that his brother in his perfect quest for power had forgotten all about him. He’d spent years torturing himself with the image. Vergil, lounging on a throne of darkness in some remote, unreachable corner of the demon world. A tacky crown sitting on his head, as he played conqueror and commander with whatever idiot came his way.
Dante's fists punched the blood sack that stood in his way. It burst under the force and showered him in its precious cargo. His lips twisted in disgust.
The thought that his brother would be stupid enough to challenge Mundus never crossed his mind. It should have. It really fucking should have. Dante probably would have done the same after all, but he was not the one with all the crafty little plans that led exactly nowhere. What he could have never imagined was that Vergil would become one of Mundus’ puppets, drenched in black magic and broken beyond recognition.
It was on him.
Dante kicked the remaining blood sack and didn't even feel the warm liquid drench him.
He'd been so blinded and emptied out by grief that he'd ignored that muffled stirring in his blood. The sparks that had zapped him when he'd seen his reflection move on Mallet Island had been weak, barely a whisper above the ugly darkness that had been gripping his heart.
It was pure self-preservation that made him ignore the call of his other half. He’d been too weak for hope, too blinded by pain to recognise the person standing in front of him.
Then he killed his brother with his own two hands.
Thorns dried out, revealing his way to the lower level.
Dante's fists clenched and Balrog lit like a firecracker.
His blood stirred and his demon howled, latching onto his brother's presence like a true North. Like his fucking guiding star.
But that hollow ache still gnawed at his heart with rusty teeth. Whatever Vergil had done to himself had cut Dante off, leaving him alone and floundering.
Well, Dante would just have to find whatever was left of his brother under that hunger for power and kick his ass back to sanity.
A faint tremor shook him, and his head whipped to his left. The sensation made his hands tremble and his stomach clench tight. He’d chalk it off as adrenaline, but the way his pulse sped up was unpleasant, painful.
This was fear, and not his either.
Dante frowned and cocked his head to the side, concentrating on the sensation stirring inside him. It was faint and barely there. He would have missed it if he hadn't been so focused on that connection that dangled, ripped somewhere between him and the top of the Qliphoth.
A trap? Honed instincts screamed at him in high alarm. He ignored them. There was nothing in this world or the one below that could imitate that primal stirring at his very core.
Dante took a left turn instead of jumping to the lower level.
He'd made this mistake once. He’d paid for it in heartbreak, loneliness, and copious amounts of alcohol that never seemed to numb any of it.
“I dare you to mess with me.” Dante shouted, unable to look away from the lower levels.
Darkness slowly enveloped him as he made his way down the cavernous corridor. Would it kill Vergil to put a lamp up?
A sudden burst of light illuminated the darkness around him.
“Do you want me to follow?” He asked the empty air around him. The response was immediate. A second light, pointing the way.
Dante didn’t need to be told twice. He ran ahead, heart pounding out of his ribcage. Eerie light illuminated his path, and that fear that stirred his blood reverberated stronger the further he went.
Demonic power flared around him and dug greedy fingers into his flesh. Dante jumped back just in time, avoiding the trap’s clutches.
“Come on! You gotta do better than that!” He shouted, inviting every sorry creature dumb enough to answer to a fight. No one did.
Go figure. It was the theme of the day and wasn’t that a fucking joke? Only no punchline followed.
A soft groan reverberated around him, caught and amplified by the high walls.
Dante scanned the darkness and his eyes landed on a limp figure. Clothing faded into the deep shadows and white hair shone eerily, illuminated by the purple glow of the stones around them.
That foreign fear that had been vibrating through his chest dug deep, finding nothing but relief. It welled up as the realisation clicked in his head, and not even the sting of betrayal could dampen it. An outburst of laughter escaped him, and he collapsed on the warm ground in a heap.
“Damn it!” He cursed at the form that lay dead to the world. “Just this once you could have used your big fucking words, V--!”
Dante clamped his mouth as his voice came out too loud, pitch too high from emotions that were bubbling too close to the surface. Any louder and he was going to attract every demon within earshot. Whoever had set the trap was probably nearby, and for the first time in his life he wanted to avoid a fight.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. He was catching the other’s fear, and it wasn’t for himself.
A soft wince caught his attention, and Dante watched mesmerised as black markings spread across pale skin and dampened the pull he felt in his blood. Inky black dimmed the brilliance of a few strands of hair, and he found himself itching to reach out and tuck them away. To hide them until only the white ones were visible again.
A short bitter laugh escaped him, as the pieces fell into a neat little picture that should have been blindingly obvious from the start. Only, it turned out, he was still that same person that had stalked Mallet Island, emptied of all reason to hope. He hadn’t even looked twice at the piece of work that had slinked into his office and spoken in verses. His blood had remained silent, and he didn’t care beyond that. He’d trudge on.
Only his blood could be fooled, it seemed. The connection silenced by a couple of pesky demons. Their presence strong enough to drown out the fainter one underneath. What little was left, anyway.
Dante shook his head. Now was not the time to chew his own ass over his inability to read his brother’s mind.
He reached into the trap.
----
V grimaced, slowly walking out of the gate. The evaporating body of Miraggio Angelo behind him was a poor consolation for his bruised pride and aching heart. He knew better than to be fooled by a mere trick of magic. That woman wasn’t his mother, but the sting of not being able to save her remained.
Shadow bumped her head against his hip, purring deep in her throat.
“I know. The road to eternity waits for no one.” He scratched behind her ears. “We shall march on.”
But the words died on his lips as soon as he reached the main gallery of the pocket dimension. A fourth gate had appeared, uninvited and imposing. He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d thought this to be a mere test of power. Waste time, regain his familiars and be gone like the hands of the clock. A test of ego stretched his patience beyond what was polite.
Then again, short as his life had been, it had been one endless trial of the soul.
“That one’s mine.” A voice came from behind him and V felt his back stiffen. “But you'd enjoy the irony of fighting him.”
Dante’s demonic power flared up around them and hung to his skin. Hot tendrils probed along V’s flesh, dipping inside the cracks left wide open by his crumbling shell. The drop of demonic energy left in his blood hummed in response, reaching back.
“I don’t have an appetite to fight other people’s battles.” V said resolutely, ruthlessly suppressing his own blood’s act of betrayal. Human as he was, he should have been immune to that call. But there were things that seemed to escape the laws of even the most ancient magic.
He turned around, coming face to face with the source of all of his struggles. Danger stared back at him. Unflinching aquamarine eyes took in his appearance. The question in them, answered by his colouring. A mark of his origin that he had never had any designs to hide. It was only necessity that had forced his hand.
“I didn’t expect you to get caught in such a simple trap, legendary devil hunter.” V said, trying to regain control over the situation. Be as it may be, it was a bit too early for certain truths to come to light. As a matter of fact, he would prefer they remain hidden until his plans came to fruition. “Perhaps I miscalculated when I hired you.”
“But not simple enough for you to get caught?” Dante asked, looking him up and down. V shivered as those eyes took his measure and weighed him.
“Let’s say my current strength leaves something to be desired.” He responded lightly, trying to brush off the way that appraising look made goosebumps rise along his skin. “A situation that can easily be corrected.”
With an inhale V took a step back, needing that second to gather himself before he could turn his back on Dante and start walking towards one of the gates. It didn’t matter which one, Nightmare was next. He was in no condition to fight, let alone win, but perhaps surprise could be his ally.
“That’s enough with the bullshit, isn’t it?” Dante’s voice stopped him in his tracks, all pretences of niceties gone. He’d never been a patient one. “We have a score to settle.”
V’s head fell to the side, a smile tugging at his lips. This was bad. The worst possible outcome of a horrible situation.
“I wasn’t aware we’re keeping score.” The words slipped from his lips and the line between where he ended and Vergil began blurred. He wasn’t surprised to find that he shared the man’s reckless inclinations where Dante was concerned.
“When haven’t we?” Dante replied, grin audible for anyone who cared to hear it.
Fear and exhilaration pounded through V’s heart as Dante’s demonic power burned through the pocket dimension. The first was all his, the latter a remnant from a previous life that was threatening to grab a hold of him.
Shadow dived into the darkness under his feet and carried him off just in time to evade a sharp blade. V lost his balance and had to lean on the cold floor, as the world danced around him.
“Surprising you was never going to work, was it?” Dante asked, rising to his full height, and turning towards him. His teeth gleamed in the gloom around them, stark, white, and hungry.
“I’m afraid not.” V replied, closing his eyes. This was it then. End of the line for him. It was irrelevant whether Dante’s sword or his own failing body was the cause. This dimension might have been kinder to him, but ultimately, he wasn’t going to make it out.
This sharp truth brought merciful serenity with it and that much he was grateful for. This was a fate better than he had imagined even in his most delirious dreams.
“Slice him!”
Shadow threw herself forward, body submerging into the hard rock, sharp tendrils splitting the very air apart.
Dante was faster, evading each and every strike.
“You can do better than that!”
A split second was all V was afforded as bullets flew towards him. Shadow yanked him to the side.
V’s eyes narrowed, meeting confident aquamarine ones. Ill footed as he was, he loathed retreating. Amusement tugged at his lips, despite his imminent meeting with Lady Death. They really were wretched creatures, weren’t they? Doomed to repeat cursed loops of their own making that could only deliver them to the same tragic end. But V supposed that he could only ever be himself, no matter how much he struggled against the confines that defined him.
“You thought your little goose chase had me distracted, didn’t you?” Dante asked. That infuriating grin that dripped with excess self-confidence firmly in place. Like a hound that had scented blood. “Don’t worry, I’ve been paying attention to your pets.”
“Good for you.” V said, straightening up. “Do you want a cookie?”
The miserable truth of the matter was that the stars were never aligned in his favour. A three-minute delay was all it had taken for Dante to be born under Fortuna’s protection and for Vergil to be denied her gifts. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“More like a kiss.” Dante’s lips tugged into something feral. “Better yet, I can give you a kiss from this.”
Shadow slipped under V’s feet, and he danced to the tune of the bullets that strummed his swan song.
“Surprised you didn’t go for the headless chicken. The yapping too much for you?”
V came to a halt behind Dante. Yet, despite the fear that was churning his insides so lovingly, he couldn’t deny the stirring in his blood. Pure exhilaration worked his heart, leaving him breathless. Without fail Dante’s very presence had managed to spark joy inside him. It shone stubborn and irrational in a way that only his brother could make him feel.
Shadow threw herself forward at his silent command, body contorting. Sharp jaws closed around the empty space Dante had occupied a mere second prior.
“You’re not one to talk.” V chided lightly, trying to fight off the answering grin about to bloom on his lips.
“I guess not.” Dante agreed easily, landing on his feet. “But you never minded before.”
“Ohh, I’ve always minded.” V corrected. His mind thumbed through old memories and found dried forget-me-nots, and faded pink carnations that still held their lustre. Childhood memories of scratched knees and impish pranks. His heart swelled with an emotion entirely unlike fear. “I just never found a way to shut you up. Except maybe-- pierce him!”
Shadow’s head gleamed dangerously, sharp spike meeting steel.
“This isn’t fun.” Dante whined in a voice so petulant, that V expected him to stomp his foot. As a matter of fact, V remembered his brother doing exactly that on more than one occasion when he was denied Vergil’s attention. Instead, Dante swirled in one graceful arc, propelling his kick. It landed on Shadow with a sick crack and sunk in. “Come here!”
“I'm afraid, I can't play with you right now.” V said, the words lilting, the shape of them well-worn and familiar. He’d uttered them on more than one occasion after all. Maybe not with this mouth and not under these circumstances, but it was only his unfortunate choices that had led them to this moment.
Shadow’s flesh quivered. Magic crackled around her form, as she prepared for the closing notes.
An outburst of demonic energy sent the familiar skidding backwards, interrupting the attack. V grimaced. He was weaker than he thought it seemed. Shadow should have been able to handle this much resistance.
“Can’t catch me with this one.” Dante grinned, demon retreating under his skin. “A very pretty lady once taught me what to do when someone got too close and personal.”
V chuckled. This was such a hopeless distraction. He’d never win in his current state. He was just foolishly throwing what little power he had left to the wind. He collapsed on the ground, silently yielding victory. One thing was clear, whatever had driven Dante to seek him it wasn't the intention to end him. Not just yet at least.
“You giving up?”
“I am strategically retreating.” V answered with a mirthless smile. His brother always did require things to be spelled out for him. Some things never changed, he supposed.
His breath then hitched in relief, as Shadow’s warm body curled around his back. There was a tender kind of irony to be found in being comforted by one’s worst nightmares, but he could scarcely appreciate it. His fingers twitched, grasping for the last shreds of his demonic power. Not much left now. Just enough to keep this form together for a few fleeting moments more.
“Hey, you're not going to keel over, are you?” Dante approached, devil sword evaporating into the ether.
“I am not done fighting.” V answered with more bravado than he could back up. It seemed that reckless foolishness was a quality he shared with his brother. Even if life had knocked him down a few pegs for the audacity of it. “But I need to choose my battles. Urizen must be stopped.”
Dante exhaled pure exasperation as he slumped next to him. In the silence that followed, V felt the warm touch of his brother’s demonic power. It slipped past his defences and warmed him to his very core. V closed his eyes on the inhale, head lolling back. Vergil would never admit to this weakness, but he wasn’t him and he didn’t have the strength to pretend he wasn’t soaking up his brother’s warm tenderness. It seeped inside him, finding his heart’s broken shards and gently willed them back together.
“There you go again.” Dante said slowly, carefully. “Running ahead without stopping to--”
V frowned, as his mind grappled to guess his brother’s choked off words. Dante didn’t add anything else and maybe that was for the best.
“Time is not on my side.” He replied. Perhaps ultimately it didn’t matter. He needed to reach Urizen, otherwise these tentative emotions blooming in his chest would be for naught.
“This single mindedness of yours is exactly why we’re in this mess.” Dante said, soft reproach clear in his voice.
V started to answer, but his attention snagged. Dante’s hand lay inconspicuously between them, palm up, fingers splayed open. A tentative offer that tilted V’s world dangerously. “You’re one to speak.” He said and tried to swallow the emotions clawing out of his throat. “You’ve been chasing him since the day I walked into your office.”
“What can I say? After fourteen years I thought the family reunion was going to be a banger.”
V snorted despite himself. Trust his brother to disarm him with casual sincerity. “Shredding each other to pieces really does create unforgettable memories.”
“Well, my blood is all you ever seemed to want.” Dante agreed with a shrug. “I would have given it all to you, you know? If I knew that would be enough.”
The truth sliced through him, sharper than Yamato ever could. V’s breath hitched as he felt his heart spill between his ribs, an unsightly mess of raw flesh and bright red blood. He’d catch it but what good would it do him? It was a wilted old thing that he’d carelessly discarded, and Mundus had so helpfully put away in a box for him. He was at a complete loss for why it was suddenly clamouring for his attention.
“Look at who hasn’t been paying attention.” Dante laughed after a moment, and it didn’t quite move the air between them. “I’d rhyme it for you but then you’d complain about a tortured metaphor, so I will give it to you straight. I was on my way to beat some sense into that blue asshole downstairs because that's all I thought was left of you.”
Hope. That’s what his thrashing heart was tying itself up in knots over. Bewildering hope that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel even once. Instead, he had ruthlessly manhandled it into the deep recesses of his guts, where it wouldn’t be able to penetrate through his fear and break his resolve. Yet, his brother’s words had summoned it with a vengeance.
“Why would you do that?” V had to wrestle the words out of his throat or else he’d never voice them.
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Dante said and raised his hand, making that offer unmissable. “Here I thought you were supposed to be some sort of smart.”
V grimaced, not quite done chewing over hope’s sharp edges. “Smarter than you in any case.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that one. I’m not the dumbass who cleaved himself in two.”
Just like that the acknowledgement was spoken out loud, fluttering its wings between them. It left Dante’s mouth on a grin, bright enough to illuminate their gloomy little world. The emotion that shone in his brother’s eyes was unmistakable, contagious. It soothed V’s floundering heart with warm reassurance that maybe his sins could be forgiven.
“Touché.” He conceded after a moment, the conversation almost slipping from his grip under the force of his spinning world.
Dante’s smile tugged even more brilliant, and he wiggled his fingers. The invitation demanding an answer.
V almost looked away. This was that same hand that Vergil had once rejected to keep his pride intact and his brother safe. A decision made final with a slash of the Yamato. Despite his intentions all he could remember was the desperation on his brother’s face as he reached for him.
Yet here he was, that same choice offered to him without hesitation. A warm outstretched hand that was waiting for him. He ached to take it. That’s all it would take. Just his fingers, sliding against the warm palm of his brother’s hand and their cursed little loop would be broken. They’d turn a new page, change the record, and start a new melody of their own making.
V’s lips quirked. It would have sounded impossibly simple, if he hadn’t had to cleave himself in two, as his brother so eloquently put it, for them to get here.
His hand slid home.
Warm fingers enveloped him and a bright crinkle of a smile greeted him, and he realised that this decision had been taken a long time ago. It had inconspicuously taken root in a man whose fractured soul had been dimmed by a god. It had persevered through the years he drifted along the precipices of his own death, and it had been clattering at the back of his mind as he had headed for his brother seeking help.
The hug he was pulled into was bruising and scorchingly tight. The dregs of demonic power inside him, stirred and vibrated with warmth at his brother’s embrace. Or was it his feeble heart? V wasn’t quite sure it mattered one way or another.
“Admitting a defeat and a mistake?” Dante said, voice rough. “You must have really missed me.”
“Some of us are capable of learning.” V croaked in response and found his pride quiet for once. After all there was no pride to be found in persevering in one’s foolishness.
In response Dante only squeezed tighter, pulled him closer, and buried his face in V’s neck. Fingers clutched at his clothing with silent desperation, that V couldn’t quite decipher, but he lifted his hand and slowly petted his brother’s head. Broad shoulders shook slightly against him.
“I owe you an ass kicking just so we are clear.” Dante’s voice came muffled against his neck. “For everything.”
V closed his eyes with a rueful smile. “Only for everything? If that's all, I’ll take a rain check.”
Dante laughed and squeezed him punishingly tight, an outburst of joy caught between them. V groaned and coughed, his body shooting pain along his nerves in alarm.
“This body doesn't have much left. I need to get to Urizen.” He said, slowly disengaging from the warm arms that held him together. “It's the only way. If I don't return to him, I might just get blown away by the wind.”
Dante pulled back, eyes searching his face. Fear and hope burned bright in those aquamarine eyes. The emotions there one second, and gone the next, tucked away behind an easy grin.
“Okay, Mr Poetry.” Dante pulled away from him and got on his feet. “I have something I need back. We'll then get your chicken and knock some sense into your idiot demon.”
Dante didn’t wait for a response, instead he turned on his heels and strolled carelessly towards the last gate. As if they had all the time in the world, instead of mere minutes. Maybe they did. V had to wonder. Perhaps with his brother by his side, his final moments could be stretched into eternity.
“Hey, Verge.” A voice too light and curious interrupted his thoughts. “What's behind door number three?”
Only a collection of my most disgraceful moments.
The thought flashed through his mind, and for the first time V realised that his past held no sway over him. It could hunt him all it wanted, but it couldn’t define him anymore. A path forward had opened for him, and staring back at loveless memories would only stall him.
“I thought you've been paying attention, brother.” V replied and the word tasted good on his tongue.
“Let's keep it a surprise.” Dante laughed, his voice catching slightly.
V closed his eyes and curled around Shadow’s warm body, grasping for the last embers of his strength. Perhaps this much would be enough after all.
Perhaps strength could be found outside himself.
In threads of fate that ran through his heart and mended it to another’s.
Brother.