I effin' love this game series.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. I'd be rich if I did and I would be making this into an actual videogame, not just a story :D
Kyrie had counted nearly fifty different kinds of demon skulls adorning the wall of the dimly lit office. She could only imagine the kind of battle experience that must have gone with each one -- although, it was safe to say that whenever one faced a demon, battle experience was about as far off from what one expected to get, as say, a strawberry sundae.
"Kyrie, was it?"
She suppressed the involuntary shudder going through her body and failed miserably. Her eyes continued to wander across the room, this time focusing on the neon tube decorated jukebox playing, what was it called, jazz music.
This one took quite a bit of concentration; the musical device was, after all, only a few feet past his shoulder.
"You've been avoiding looking at me all this time."
Her breath hitched in her throat as she struggled not to let out a whimper.
"I'm sorry." She replied, dropping her gaze on her hands folded in her lap.
"What for? It's completely understandable." he drawled languidly, and for a moment , she nearly broke down.
It was the very same voice that said sweet things to her as she fell asleep, that firmly assured her of her safety in the face of danger and that constantly declared undying love for her.
"Are you alright?" he asked again, the clinking of the cup of chocolate she had made for him stopping momentarily.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her voice shaking in barely restrained fury. "What has Nero done to you to deserve this?"
In a moment of courage, she bravely met his eyes -- the same frost-like blue as her Nero's, but lacked the distinct warmth she had always seen.
"Dante didn't tell you." he said calmly, resting the cup of chocolate on the saucer and placing it on the small coffee table in front of them.
The songstress looked torn between demanding a straight answer and screaming at him. She instead focused her hatred laden gaze on the cup of chocolate resting on the table.
He drank it with two shots of strawberry syrup, nearly boiling hot.
How dare he.
"I know what happened." Kyrie said again, bravely keeping her voice even. "Dante -- he went to Fortuna because Nero had been hearing voices and speaking different languages. He said the Yamato was acting strange and he was having visions of fighting someone on top a giant tower!"
"And I fail to see how you've made the connection to this being my fault." he replied again, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice.
Kyrie glared hard at him. This man had styled her Nero's hair to his own liking, swept back from his face and pointed in harsh spikes. When Dante had carried his unconscious form back to Devil May Cry, he was still dressed in Nero's old clothes but as soon as he awoke, he demanded a change of clothing from the red clad hunter, who surprisingly obliged.
Dressed in the blue leather coat, high boots and brown fencing gloves, he looked every part the long lost Other Son of Sparda.
"Why are you possessing him?" she asked again, glaring at him once more but her gaze had lost most of it power. Despair had begun to creep in and it was taking over fast.
"Kyrie." He said, a surprising hint of warmth in his voice. "I am not possessing him."
His words, while holding an almost reassuring air, did anything but calm her already frayed nerves.
Liar, she wanted to yell but kept calm. "What do you mean?"
"Kyrie, it's me."
Her heart began hammering in her chest, sorrow, confusion, anger all blending cruelly.
"I'm sorry that Dante hasn't told you yet – he likely thought it was for your own good. Think about it. Nero has always been a unique child, hasn't he?"
She nodded hesitantly.
"Always healed from every injury? Immune to poison, sickness and possession?"
"Yes, I remember. He's always been like that, ever since I knew him."
"Have you ever been told as to why the name Nero was chosen for him?"
"Yes, because of the black cloth wrappings they found around him when he was found as a child by the Order."
To her utter bewilderment, the white-haired man actually smirked.
"What they found around him was black, but I can assure you that it was much more than cloth wrappings. You know of the Order's attempts to create vessels for demonic spirits to reside in?"
Kyrie nodded again, deciding to listen to what the man was getting at.
"You know that they used pieces of a demon they dubbed 'Black Angel', correct?"
Feeling sick to her stomach, she didn't nod this time as the man's story continued.
"They used pieces of the demon's armor that was littered around a field where they detected a strong demonic presence. You know what else they found? A broken sword."
Tears welling up in her eyes, Kyrie glanced at the ornate katana the man held, sheathed in its scabbard.
"Yamato." he whispered, glancing at the weapon in his hand. "Besides the sword and the bits of shattered armor, the last thing they found is the answer to all of this, Kyrie."
She began to weep silently as he continued to speak.
"A baby, lying amidst the debris, wrapped in the darkest, blackest demonic energy they had ever felt or seen."
Kyrie's vision began to blur as the tears began flowing freely from her eyes. The man had risen from his seat and knelt down in front of her.
"That baby was me, Kyrie."
"Nero?"
A/N: So yeah, a decidedly different take on the relationship between Vergil and Nero. I know that they've released a novel that has more details on Nero's actual nature (I won't spoil it, let's just say I'm not too fond of it) but I haven't had time to read it all yet. Stay tuned for further explanations regarding Nero/Vergil's current situation, as well as the Devil Bringer.