The Crystal Sarcophagus
Author's Note: This story is about Vergil, but Dante, Nero and Kyrie make an appearance later. I have finished it already and will post a new chapter weekly.
Disclaimer: Listen carefully, I will say this only once: I do not own Vergil, Dante, Nero, Kyrie or any other character from the DMC franchise. All others are mine.
PART 1
Nelo Angelo, faithful servant of Mundus Emperor of the Demon World, had been sent by his master to kill an intruder, the son of a traitor. He did not ask questions. He never did. His master gave an order and he obeyed without asking, even without thinking. He went out to meet the enemy to destroy him.
This enemy was different though. As usual Nelo Angelo had invited the man to a duel, an honest fight of man to man. He abhorred the backstabbing and trickery of other demons. It was no more than base cowardice.
"This stinking hole is the last place I thought I'd find anyone with some guts," the enemy said.
Obviously the man had no style, but at least he fought with courage and honour. Pity he had to be killed. Just as Nelo Angelo was squeezing the life out of the enemy something caught his eyes. The pain that coursed through his whole being, that nearly burnt the life out of him, made him throw the man aside. He fled; he had to in order to regain his strength.
Nelo Angelo returned. He had a duty to fulfil. The second encounter went no better than the first one, and again he had to go because his strength had failed him.
He knew he would have to face the enemy again. His order had been to defeat and kill this man, and as long as his task had not been fulfilled he would continue.
For the third time Nelo Angelo faced the enemy, his enemy as well. And the enemy had something to say.
"A man with guts and honour, I like that, but it's a shame you serve Mundus."
They fought again, really man to man this time and not man to monster. Nelo Angelo was sure he was the stronger, but instead of winning the final victory for his master he was defeated and the body he was wearing exploded.
Nelo Angelo had to face Mundus as a ghostly being without body or armour. He knew the punishment for failure was death, but Mundus had a worse punishment for him. Life. Eternal life in darkness without memory of who he was or had been, but with enough awareness of the emptiness and darkness that surrounded him. Enough awareness so that it would slowly drive him crazy, and would ultimately destroy him anyway. Slowly he became a part of the darkness without thought or consciousness, until one day.
ooOOoo
There was darkness so deep it seemed to have taken on substance. He was caught in the pitch-black mass that was trying to crush him to nothingness. Him! He was not a lifeless thing! He was a thinking entity!
It was like a light, faint, easy to extinguish in the blackness that held him. Think! He … yes, he … male, not female. What else? Names! Vergil, Nelo Angelo, Mundus, Dante, Sparda, Eva. What did they mean? Where they people? Places? Friends? Foes? Was one of them his name?
Another flash of light in the darkness. A memory.
"Nelo Angelo, my faithful warrior, the son of the traitor has entered the fort. Kill him for me."
Did he speak those words? No, he heard them. Was that his name? Nelo Angelo? It didn't sound right. Was he the traitor's son then? No, the words had been spoken to him. His name was Nelo Angelo. It still did not sound right.
Had he killed the traitor's son as instructed?
This stinking hole is the last place I thought I'd find anyone with some guts.
The words in his mind were accompanied by the image of a white-haired man in red leather. He remembered holding the man by the throat. He had defeated the enemy. The red leather coat had opened. Something had fallen out of it. He had grabbed his head. Agony! His head had been ready to burst. He felt the pain all over again and let himself fall into soothing darkness.
He had been unconscious. How long? Moments? Hours? Days? There was no way of telling.
Who was the man in red? What was the thing that had caused him such pain?
Another memory flashed across his mind. Another fight with the same man. Another flash of light coming from the man's chest. He was ready for the memory of the red jewel dangling from the chain. Again the pain pierced his brain. This time he was only out for moments.
His memory took him to another fight. He was facing the same foe yet again. No doubt this was the son of the traitor he had been instructed to kill.
A man with guts and honour, I like that, but it's a shame you serve Mundus.
They had fought again. He had … he had changed the way he looked. Why had he done that? The answer came in an instant. Because he had wanted to face this man as himself, not as Mundus' puppet. He had changed the features of the body he had been wearing. Yes … wearing. He had been trapped inside … inside what? Some sort of artificial body? Something pliable, changeable?
He had faced the man as himself, or as much as himself as he could make the thing he had been trapped in. He was not sure the man had recognised him. They had fought, long, hard, relentlessly. They might have killed each other if there had not been the amulet. He had been defeated. Agony had burst into his brain like an exploding star, an explosion that had rent the fake body asunder.
As he relived that moment memories came flooding into his mind. A brother, someone to share with, a closeness, as close as … twins. A twin brother!
How about a kiss from your little brother?
He was born first. He was the strongest, the better fighter, the more powerful. And yet, he had been defeated by his little brother Dante. Again. Again? Yes. He remembered Temen-ni-gru, the tower where he would find his father's power but for that he had needed his brother's amulet.
He remembered Dante turning up, cocky and disgustingly human, as always refusing to share the power of their father, Sparda.
Might controls everything. And without strength, you cannot protect anything. Let alone yourself.
Those had been his words. And where had might gotten him? He had stabbed his brother, had awakened the devil within Dante and thus had created his own downfall. But first there had been their fight against their common enemy, Arkham, who had used both of them and had taken Sparda's power.
I'll try it your way for once.
Remember what we used to say?
Jackpot!
They had said the word in unison, they had shot in unison, in that short moment they had been the sons of Sparda united, not Dante and Vergil, twins grown so far apart they had become strangers to each other.
Vergil! That was his name, his true name. Nelo Angelo was just the name he had born as slave to Mundus. But how had that moment of victory shared with his brother turned to defeat and submission to Mundus?
The sword! The amulets! They had separated. He had dived after them, as had his brother. They each had found their amulet, but one was not enough. He needed both to get Sparda's power.
Give that to me!
No way, you've got your own.
Well, I want yours too.
What are you going to do with all that power, huh? No matter how hard you try, you're never gonna be like Father.
You are wasting time.
We are the sons of Sparda. Within each of us flows his blood. But more importantly, his soul! And now my soul is saying it wants to stop you!
Unfortunately, our souls are at odds, brother. I need more power!
And we're supposed to be twins.
Twins ... Right
They had fought and somehow Dante had bested him. Even at the risk of being stuck there his brother had stayed to stop him. They had charged at each other with all they had and somehow Dante, who did not want power, had been the stronger.
No one can have this, Dante, it is mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda! Leave me and go, if you don't want to be trapped in the Demon World. I am staying. This place was our father's home.
He had let himself fall into the Demon World, cutting the hand of his brother who had tried to stop him, even then. And next? A triangle of bright red vortexes had appeared. Mundus!
It will be fun to fight with the Prince of Darkness. If my father did it, I should be able to do it too!
Had he really been that foolish? If he had bided his time, if he had hidden until he had recovered from the fighting and the injuries he had sustained, then he might have beaten Mundus. But he had been an idiotic, childish, overconfident teen, and he had paid dearly for his foolishness.
Mundus had captured him and given him to his generals to be turned into a useful tool. One had looked just like his mother, but he had not bought that lie. His mother would not hurt him, or worse, try to seduce him. She stopped coming in the end because she could not destroy the picture of his mother that was imprinted on his mind.
How many days and nights had they tortured him? They had taken turns, coming at him with fresh vigour and leaving him to a new man when that freshness had barely started to wear off. They had not given him a moment's respite until he was no more than a bleeding wreck of a man. Then somehow they had taken … his soul? … his mind? … his personality? … whatever it was that made him Vergil. They had twisted it into Nelo Angelo and buried it in a tin can, an armour fitted out to fight in Mundus' service.
And Dante had defeated him yet again. Now he was bodiless, trapped in Mundus' darkness.
All his memories had come back, as clear as if it had all only just happened. A home, parents that loved him and a brother as close as only a twin can be. They had fought, yes, had not held back, both of them always wanting to be the best. And always he, Vergil, had been the one who had won the fight. Sparda had been proud of his sons, though Eva had thought it was wrong for them to fight each other so bitterly.
Eva, his mother. That memory too had come back, and with it the worst memory of his life: the attack on their home, the killing of his mother, being dragged into hell, and the birth of his devil in a place of death, pinned to a gravestone that bore his name.
He felt more alive, more like Vergil than he had in a long time. And yet, all that he was, all that he had just remembered would disappear again and he would be nothing, not even a blip in the dark world he was in.
ooOOoo