Chapter 1

Duel of the Demon Children

Vergil took a long, deep breath, inhaling through his nose and out his mouth, the cool, damp air filling his lungs. It was a good night. The moon sat high in the sky, an ever watchful eye to the events that were happening. Thin wisps of smoke-like clouds hovered near it, remnants of the deeper ones that lay high above. A storm was coming.

Already, he could here the first patters of rain as they fell to the top of Temen-ni-gru. First sparsely, then more and more, until the sound was almost a uniform roar. The downpour quickly filled the top of the circular tower with a thin covering of water. The grim statues on top twisted around like dark trees in a swamp. The large droplets of water sifted through his slicked back, silky white hair, hammered the shoulders of his long blue coat, and beaded along the silk shirt beneath it.

It would be a small storm. The gales that blew were hardly enough to flutter the tail of his coat. It paled in comparison to the storm that would occur before the night was over, when he got what was rightfully his. The rain was heavy, but pleasant to the skin as it washed down the contours of his face and across his lips.

Then he heard the footsteps; heavy falls amidst puddles of water. Unkempt, without caution or grace. Vergil allowed himself a small smile that shifted the path of water down his face. His left hand tightened around the black mirror sheath of Yamato just below it's long gold tassel. Soon, he assured the serpentine katana...soon.

"You showed up..." he remarked casually, slowly turning to face him.

It was Dante, of course. He had been expecting him for some time. Vergil had to force his lip not to curl in disgust for Dante's sheer lack of etiquette. He was the son of a great warrior, and here he dressed like a drifter: a red trench coat, ripped leather pants, muddy boots, and without even so much as a shirt on. He wore a pair of holsters that held his guns, as well as his large sword, Rebellion, over that. His silvery hair was ragged, long, and dirty.

Vergil was infuriated that he had to call such a person his twin brother.

Dante chuckled, then wagged the barrel of one of his guns at him. "You sure know how to throw a party," he said sarcastically as he paced back and forth in the rain. "No food, no drinks, and the only babe just left!"

"My sincerest apology, brother," Vergil said tightly, not moving from his spot on the edge of the tower. "I was...so eager to see you that I couldn't concentrate on preparations for the bash..."

Dante actually turned his back on him when he next paced. Vergil briefly wondered how quickly it would take him to strike him down in that instant. But there was no honor in attacking while his back was turned. He would fight his brother fair and square, even if Dante didn't, and he would win.

"Whatever," Dante shrugged. "At any rate, it's been a whole year since we last met. How 'bout a kiss from your little brother...Better yet, how 'bout a kiss from this?" He raised the gun after a spin, holding it sloppily sideways.

The first bolt of lightening streaked across the sky, shortly followed by a resounding crash of thunder. The small smile returned to Vergil's lips. The storm was fully matured. Slowly, his hand crept higher on Yamato's sheath, until it reached the hilt.

"So, this is what they call a heartwarming family reunion, eh?" Dante asked.

"You got that right," Vergil replied, then with a flick of his thumb, pushed up on Yamato's hilt, revealing a sliver of shining blade.

Dante acted as predicted: he went for those despicable guns. He reached back quickly and pulled the other one free, then began to fire. Even quicker, Vergil took a single step back and unsheathed Yamato, revealing the long, curved blade in all of its glory. His wrist a blur, he spun the blade round and round, instantly creating a seemingly solid wall that sang sweetly as the rain struck it. The bullets from Dante's gun struck the metal shield with a much harsher sound as they were deflected into the air.

After a few seconds of useless firing, Dante ceased his attack. Quick as a blur, Vergil sheathed his sword again, coiling it for the next strike. He lunged forward, but instead of running, he directed the flow of energy through his body, then skipped the space between them. Instead of physically crossing the gap, he merely appeared in front of his brother almost instantly and struck.

Vergil was impressed that his brother dodged the swipe of Yamato's sheath, then the follow up swing. But he miscalculated when he leaned forward and drew the blade in a wide arc, slicing through the the very rain itself. Dante tried to block the blow with his own sword, which he had drawn a second ago, but only caught it at a glance. Yamato's tip glanced his shoulder, cutting through his red coat and into his flesh.

In a blink, Yamato was once again coiled and ready to strike in its sheath. Vergil's smile broadened ever so slightly. It was not even a minute into the fight, and he'd already scored a blow on his brother.

But the strike was small, and Dante had barely been phased by it. He lunged forward, aiming the point of his sword at Vergil's chest. Coolly, he raised Yamato, and deflected the blade with the sheath. The clap of the impact dwarfed the sound of thunder from the bolt of lightening that arced across the sky. Both of them stuttered, but Vergil recovered far quicker, then tricked to Dante's side.

They crossed swords again and again. Both blades cut through the rain around them, creating streaks of air that followed their strikes. Rebellion was a large, heavy blade, and Dante swung it easily with great power, but Yamato was far more deadly in Vergil's hands, striking like a snake, always keeping his brother on the defensive.

In the midst of the battle, Dante shoved hard when their blades locked, then spun and slashed. Vergil whipped his head back to avoid losing it, but felt the stinging line across his cheek as the blade drew close, then the trickle of blood. His brother had gotten better since they last fought... But the wound had already closed with no trace of a scar, and the rain had washed the blood away.

"This may be fun," Vergil grinned, then lunged.

Vergil spied an opening in his careless brother's defense, then drew Yamato up, then down viciously, cutting him twice along his bare chest, then elegantly cast the blood off the blade and sheathed it. As Dante fell back, holding his wounds, he tricked again, though this time backwards, putting more distance between them.

He tucked Yamato low at his hip, the tip of the sheath tucked behind him like a scorpions tail. He cracked the sword out, then focused his energy into the sword and released a Judgment Cut. A wave of pressure emanated from his blade, more than evident as it shimmered through the rain and distorted it. The wave coned, then folded itself into a sphere, which spun violently and formed a set of summoned blades within it.

It all happened within a fraction of a second, and the sphere released a low, pulsating sound, like some kind of hellish bass guitar. It caught Dante in half it's radius, the blades slicing into his flesh with a spray of blood. Vergil struck again and again, sending more and more waves of demonic pressure, sending his wounded brother dancing for his life between them.

He tricked again, appearing behind Dante andgrabbing him by the scruff of the coat. "Where's your motivation?" he sneered, then jerked him forward, setting him off balance. As Dante stumbled, Vergil surged forward, flowing past him in one fluid movement and slashing half a dozen times with Yamato.

Dante fell back, cut deeply across the chest more than once. As Vergil turned to face him, he rose and charged forward in a burst of speed, dragging Rebellion along the ground in a trail of sparks. Vergil was ready for the strike that followed when they met. Though the heavy sword knocked his katana askew, and Dante demonstrated an admirable display of swordsmanship, Vergil easily blocked the stab that was intended for his chest. After he parried, he flipped his grip, and drove Yamato's hilt into Dante's gut.

The blow knocked him back into one of the statues with a dull thud, a crack forming up the base of it. Haphazardly, he drew a gun and fired. Vergil was ready for the bullets once again, blocking and catching them with a twirl of Yamato. Their forward velocity halted, he splayed them in a perfect line with the tip of his sword, then struck them back. Dante was just fast enough to cleave them out of the way with a single swipe.

"Why do you refuse to gain power?" Vergil questioned as Dante shakily hauled himself to his feet. "The power of our father, Sparda?" He barely realized that he was staring through his sopping bangs. Sometime during the fight, his hair had fallen down, and with an irritating thought, he realized that he and Dante now looked even more similar.

"Father?" Dante chuckled to himself. "I don't have a father." He laughed again. "I just don't like you, that's all."

He stepped forward and brought Rebellion down. Vergil met it with Yamato. The blades clashed harshly as both put their weight behind them. Both of their eyes burned with hatred for the other as they grunted for the upper hand. Between them, the touching swords slowly sparked and heated, until they glowed red hot.

Then, Vergil pushed. Rebellion flung high into the air, out of Dante's hands. As its point fell into the stone beside them, he thrust Yamato forward, into his brother's chest. Dante jerked forward, clasping his hands around the razor that penetrated his body.

"Foolishness Dante..." Vergil hissed, then shoved it in deeper. "Foolishness...Might controls everything. And without strength, you cannot protect anything...let alone yourself." It was the final lesson he would teach him. Of course, it was the one that he never bothered to learn. Vergil twisted Yamato and jerked it out, the same way he finished that worthless Vanguard hours ago.

As Dante fell back, Vergil saw his prize: the amulet suspended by a silver chain around his neck. He reached out and snatched it, breaking the chain. As whatever life inside of Dante tried to stop him, Vergil simply turned and swatted away the protesting hand with a slice of his blade.

His brother collapsed to the top of Temen-ni-gru, lifeless in a growing pool of crimson. He felt cold satisfaction wash over him as he looked at the amulet in his gloved hand. It was a large red jewel, embedded in silver, and an identical match to his own, though his was gold. He pressed it gently to his forehead and closed his eyes.

Forgive me, mother...

Vergil flipped his bangs back into their proper position, then looked down on his motionless brother with contempt, his lip curling once again as he fought the urge to spit. He walked off, and on the way, he plucked Rebellion from it's resting spot. It truly was a mighty blade, and an excellent gift from father. The father that Dante so casually rejected. He had no use for such a blade; better that it stayed with its owner. He spun and thrust it into Dante's sternum, who apparently was still alive, though fell back again as he was pierced by his own blade.

Vergil granted him one last glare of his hatred as a voice spoke quietly.

"Do you finally have it?"

It was Arkham. The sinister man had appeared on the rim of the tower suddenly. For a human, he certainly could be quiet. Vergil didn't trust him for anything, but as luck would have it, he needed him to accomplish his goals. So that meant, for the time being, they would work together.

"Yes," he replied briskly. "Now the spell that Sparda cast will be broken."

He kept moving to the edge of the tower. He couldn't explain the sudden surge of energy behind him, nor why he couldn't detect a trace of it earlier. All that Vergil knew was that he reacted, spinning and half drawing Yamato, raising it to block. The next thing he realized was Dante's eyes staring back at him a mere foot away. Yamato was lodged halfway into his hand, lodged in the network of bones from when Dante tried to strike him with his bare hands.

"I see...a devil inside you has awakened as well!" Vergil remarked, surprised slightly.

Dante seemed to have turned feral, his face a distorted mask of anger. He payed no heed to the pain of having his hand nearly cut in two. Instead, he pushed harder, worming his hand around until his fingers could grip the blade, then pulled, flinging Vergil into the air with surprising strength.

Vergil easily landed on his feet and grabbed Yamato's handle, ready to-

"-Wait!" Arkham said suddenly. "We should leave. For the moment, we have all that we need."

Vergil paused, contemplating the logic. Dante staggered towards him, pulsing in a strange glow. He very much wanted to put him down right where he stood...but where would be the fun in that? No, Arkham was right. They had the amulets, and that was what mattered. He would claim his power, then with it, finish his brother once and for all once he'd regained his mind.

Without a word, Vergil simply turned on his heel and stepped off of the edge of the tower. Arkham was right. They had everything. Why waste the time? His power was waiting for him.

A quick note. I'm having loads of trouble with my original DMC fic, so I thought I'd keep myself busy with some other stuff. This will just be something quick, three chaps for the three fights from DMC 3. I hope you enjoy!