It was, without a doubt, the most terrifying thing Kat had ever seen in her life. Over the past few days she had almost literally been through hell and back, had come face to face with monsters that even her wildest fever dreams wouldn't have been able to conjure, and had stared down death on every conceivable level time after time after time. All of that seemed so insignificant, so harmless, in the face of what she was witnessing now. The two people she valued and cared for most in the world, the nephilim twins Dante and Vergil, were battling each other to what had to be to the death. It was heartbreaking. It was awful beyond words. The brothers had been working so well with each other ever since reuniting, but after the fall of Mundus Vergil had suddenly declared his intention to rule humanity in the demon's stead. Dante was having none of that. Unable to settle their differences peacefully, they had been forced into combat with each other. Kat wasn't sure if she felt more like screaming or crying. She was unable to do either. All she could do was cower behind a trashcan, hoping beyond hope that they would see reason and stop this.
The battle swung wildly back and forth between the almost evenly matched siblings. Sparks flew as the evil clang of sword blade dragging across sword blade rang out over and over again. They knew each other's tactics and strategy; they knew each other's way of thinking. It was a stalemate; it had to be. It was a stalemate of power. It was a stalemate of ideals. Kat was just about to give up hope entirely, certain that the nephilim brothers would annihilate each other, when she realized that slowly, dreadfully slowly, the tide of battle was turning in Dante's favor. Or was it? Yes. Yes, Vergil was definitely taking the brunt of it, now. Of course, it made sense. Vergil was the brains behind the operations, Dante was the brawn. Pitted one-on-one like this, while evenly matched at the outset, Vergil was definitely going to tire before his brother had even broken a real sweat. The realization that Vergil was going to lose twisted its way down her spine like a crackling bolt of electricity. This was a good thing, right? After all, Vergil was the one who wanted to enslave mankind again. Vergil was the one they were trying to stop. His defeat was the end goal. Right? Right? But if that was right, why did her insides feel so sick?
Dante crashed against Vergil again and again, unrelenting, unstopping, unmercifully. Vergil had put up good resistance, but against the fury that was his devil triggered brother he had no hope of holding up. Kat couldn't stop a cry of horror as Dante pushed past Vergil's last defense and with brutal efficiency rammed Rebellion deep into Vergil's chest. Kat covered her mouth with her hands as Vergil cried out in pain and defeat, grabbing at the blade sticking right through him. Slowly, agonizingly, Dante forced Vergil to his knees and then further, all the way to the ground. This was it. Dante was going to kill him. Humanity was finally going to fully, wholly free. But watching this scene play out in front of her, hearing Vergil's groans, she couldn't bring herself to see the hero of mankind removing humanity's scourge. No. What she saw were the two men she loved, one about to kill the other, both in pain. She could not see Vergil as the villain. She could only think of the man who had saved her from a life of nightmares, the man who had helped her escape and overcome her past, the man who had given her safety, sanity, a new start, a real family. Even though he had to be in such awful pain, he remained stoic, only revealing his suffering through deep gasps and quiet cries. He couldn't die. He couldn't…die…she staggered to her feet, her bandaged arm protesting, and surged forward towards them.
"Dante!" she said, her good hand curling in her hoodie, "Dante, don't kill him. Please." Slowly, slowly, she knelt beside them. "I am begging you. Please stop." Dante glanced sharply over at her, his eyes flashing bright and burning. He looked almost feral. "For me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. There was a long moment where nothing moved. Then, with a sudden jerk, Dante rose from his position kneeling above his brother and withdrew his sword. Vergil gasped, his voice thick with pain, his hand straying towards the horrible consuming pulse in his chest. There was a moment of tense silence before Dante slowly reached out a hand, a silent plea. Just as slowly, with a hint of hesitation, Vergil grasped it and let Dante help him to his feet. Kat was amazed that the sound of her heart breaking wasn't clearly audible. The brothers' gazes held each other fast as they slowly, slowly, let go of each other's arm.
"The world is under my protection now," Dante said, his voice and eyes hard.
"You've chosen the wrong side," Vergil murmured. "You're not human, Dante, and you never will be." Dante didn't reply. Perhaps he couldn't. Vergil cast a glance back at Kat before staggering back and bending to pick up his fallen sword. With a grunt of effort, he slashed open a portal in the air behind him. Kat moved slowly behind Dante, trying to convince the maelstrom that was her mind to calm down. It was over. Wasn't it? It was over. It was good now. This was good. Surely this nausea would pass. Surely this ache that ate all the way to her bones would leave in time. Surely. Vergil, on the verge of disappearing, suddenly stopped. He turned back to Dante, his eyes raw and full of betrayal. "I loved you, brother," he gasped out, past the pain. Dante's eyes widened just slightly. As Vergil turned to leave for the last time, Dante spoke.
"Yeah, well, I still love you, you bastard."