The Furious Five are characters owned by DreamWorks Animation SKG, Inc.
Vergil is a character owned by Capcom
Author's notes:
So I finally gathered the will to write my first serious attempt on a multi-chapter fic. Curiously enough, it's a crossover, of all things.
A few things I'd like the readers to bear in mind:
First and most, I'd like to let you know that I'll try really hard to write this fic in such a way that it even those who are unfamiliar with one of the two stories involved in this crossover (Kung Fu Panda and Devil May Cry) are able to read it and get it without having any prior knowledge of one of them. In other words, if you're not familiar with Kung Fu Panda, I'll attempt to write this fic in such way that you can still enjoy it even knowing any of it. Likewise, if you have no knowledge on Devil May Cry, I'll try to write the story so you can still be entertained without knowing a single word of it. Of course, I'm afraid I can't say the same about those who have no knowledge on either (but I assume will be none), yet if you happen to know about both franchises, well, cheers!
That said, the story will still include winks of continuity regarding both franchises, so those who are fans of either (or both) will be able to spot and even fill out the (intentional) vague blanks. Just as a reference for the readers: the fic takes place before Devil May Cry 3 and (WAY) after Kung Fu Panda 2.
I don't plan this story to be really long (about three or four chapters, including this one, and of the same length as this one).
However, I do warn you that the story might get really violent. I will try not to turn it into an M-rated, but if during my writing I find myself pushing the envelope, well, I might just have to do that. Extreme violence and Kung Fu Panda don't personally mix with me, so again, I'll do my best to keep the story within the T-rating parameters.
And finally, though it should be obvious, if you happen to dislike or straight up hate any of the stories involved in the crossover, then I'd kindly suggest you not to read, but if you nonetheless desire to do so, you're on your freedom to go on.
Okay, that has to be the longest author's note I've written, so enough of that. On with the story.
The Heartless
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Prelude
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"The blood of the hunter is not above the laws of the yin and yang; it exists as two opposites, one righteous, one nefarious."
Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 14 – Clause 2
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Power. It was all he desired. It was all he wanted; all he craved for; all he needed in his existence. His body and mind demanded it like nourishment. It was an impulse he couldn't control, yet one he willingly gave into, for power was his biggest desire. The day he became aware of the innate power that laid in him he marveled at it. But that would not be enough for him. As time passed, he desired to be stronger. And stronger he turned. But not even then his desire would be fulfilled. He wanted to be even stronger. He had to be. It was an obsession he did not want to abandon. The feeling of might and strength filled his wicked soul with an indescribable pleasure.
But he knew there was something that would hold him back: his humanity. Those puny feelings and ideologies of morale and selflessness were an obstacle on his way to achieve ultimate power. He cursed his humanity and gradually sought to lose it. He relinquished himself from nuisances such as emotions, empathy, humor and regret. In turn, he embraced his disregard for everything and everyone. Becoming stronger was all it mattered. Whoever had to perish on his quest was of little concern to him.
Eventually, he discovered that the more power he obtained, the harder it became to get more of it, ironically. The means to obtain it grew limited and soon enough all viable options which long ago seemed attractive were now meaningless. He had to find the real source of true power. The one thing that would grant him his definite goal: become mighty and powerful beyond everything.
But where would he find it?
His obsession for power was of no hindrance for his intellect, however. Ergo, such question was of little obstacle for him. Where would he find it? Well, before he could find it he had to know how he could find it. And how could he?
Human lore. It was the most complete database and source of information on power; through its entire history, mankind had strived to become almighty and overrule the nature that created it. Foolish they were, however, at thinking that such power would be rightfully theirs. Ultimate power was not for puny life forms such as humans. Only a superior being like himself was worthy of such possession. And now, all he needed to do was to research on their failed attempts to obtain power. Where humans had failed he knew well he would succeed.
For Vergil, this was all truth. The way things had to be. The way he wanted them to be.
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Naturally, a library was the ideal place to start. This one in particular, a rustic library located at the street corner of an old European villa, had something that drew him in over the others. It wasn't some public library where most of its contents would concern on academic subjects, classic literature, modern topics or the likes of. He had the intuition that within this library he could find things that would be of little relevance to the average human, but of complete interest for him.
At midnight, he silently broke in. The middle sized building housing the library had as only means of security a simple lock. Yet another display of a human foolishness, he thought. He turned on a few lamps on the hallways, just enough to allow him read, but without being bright enough to draw the attention of anyone who might wander outside and see the through the windows.
It didn't take him long enough to find the section he was looking for, which was ancient lore. Tomes about mythologies, folklore, old legends and even fantastic tales of long past filled the bookshelves of this short section. A common human would usually find this kind of texts as a mere pastime or as a creative muse for an artwork or fictional story.
For Vergil, it was like a goldmine. All he had to do was to dig through the useless rubble until he could find the gold he was searching for. But he had to discriminate; he could not just pick up any miserable little pebble of gold. He had to look for the largest, brightest and most valuable piece of gold he could possibly find.
Gold: precious, valuable, shiny and rare. Perhaps he could use it as a keyword to start looking.
He took the best looking tome of the collection and skipped towards the glossary. Where 'Gold' would lead him to, he'd start from there and each result would take him to another. Eventually, he'd find what he was longing for.
The philosopher's stone; the ultimate goal in alchemy[…] He paraphrased the information in his mind.[…] a stone that would grant its wearer immortality and allow him to turn any matter into gold.
He immediately concluded that immortality was of little concern for him at the moment (eternal life did not equal ultimate might after all) and turning matter into other matter did not seem particularly attractive. He passed.
King Midas; granted with the power to turn everything he touched into gold. This blessing, however, became his curse, when all his beloved beings became lifeless statues at his mere touch. He went insane and as means to stop his suffering, touched himself to become a statue as well.
Same idea of turning things into others. Not attractive to him. He passed.
The golden fleece; impenetrable and indestructible. It could deflect any attack aimed towards it.
He passed. He did not want to rely on an artifact to attain immunity whose power remained in itself at all times.
Greek Gods; their pantheon would occasionally grant their divine powers to mighty heroes to aid them in their quests.
He passed as well. Greek Gods had all been slain long ago, precisely by the one being they wrongly lent too much power to. Besides, what point was there in getting power from a being that would never let him be stronger than them?
The fountain of youth. Again, immortality. He passed. Genies and djinns; wish granters. He passed. He doesn't want power granted by a stronger being. The ark of covenant. He wasn't a fool. That was no power, only a deathtrap.
He continued searching, but no matter where he looked he'd always end up with something he'd reject. Some were of meaningless power, others of power that did not interest him (and didn't even seem to reach the kind of power he wanted) and others were nothing but lies (some proved out by himself). All in all, things were pointing out his search to be fruitless.
Or perhaps he was looking for the wrong word. Gold? What was gold in the eyes of humans? Humans, after all, were all vain and naïve beings. They would mistake useless trash for something rare and valuable. It was no surprise many of the things they held precious were all insignificant to him. He needed to look out for something else instead, to look at other places that mankind has turned its eyes on to find power in this universe.
Universe. He thought suddenly. Universe was everything. Control the universe and you control everything. You have power beyond cosmos and time space bends at your will. That would be true power.
He then searched with Universe as the key word. Only a handle of books seemed to contain any interesting results, but, finally, one of them ended up relevant.
'The key to have the power of the universe itself has been the goal of many old wisdom-seekers as well as many legendary figures, making it the central subject of their tales. Some regarded it as a material power granted by an artifact or great being, while others saw it as an abstract knowledge that, upon learning and grasping it, the key to be one with the universe would be attained. Examples of the former…'
He skimmed that part. The later, the concept of power through knowledge, had just gained his attention.
'…while examples of the later include the ancient Chinese legend of the Dragon Scroll, an ancient text that could only be granted to the warrior chosen to be the legendary Dragon Warrior."
The Dragon Scroll. That's something he had never heard of. In fact, he didn't think he had ever heard of it from anyone or from anywhere in this world. It had to be one of those obscure legends that had never reached enough ears to be turned into enough printed words.
He felt hypocrite for allowing himself to succumb to his curiosity (he considered it an inherently human trait) and searched further for more information on the Dragon Scroll. He was partly doubtful that what he'd find would lead him to what he was looking for, but a hunch on his subconscious requested him to proceed and find out.
Not surprisingly, none of the material so far had been of use. Books about legends from the Far East made no further mention of the Dragon Scroll. Legends spoke of daunting heroes, wicked evildoers, wise masters, demonic creatures, mighty weapons and magical artifacts, but no such thing as the Dragon Scroll.
Perhaps it's just a lie. He assumed. Perhaps there's no such thing as the Dragon Scroll, only a fabricated story to deceive the fool.
Then again, the same could be said about the legend of Sparda. He thought then. As he drew that comparison, he started to think that this Dragon Scroll tale may have some truth behind it. Very few mortals would ever get to hear the name of Sparda in their lives. It was such an obscure story to the human world. A story that only exists today printed in very rare and old tomes across the world. Those humans who had come across the story always disregarded it as unbelievable and unreal tale.
Yet, the story was real. He knew that so well. He was, after all, the very son of Sparda himself.
He had come to two assumptions now then: one, the legend of the Dragon Scroll didn't survive through history and ended up nearly lost; or two, that someone has, across the years, attempted to erase all traces of the Dragon Scroll so to make sure no one ever finds it.
Whatever scenario might be real, it was obvious that the legend still had remnants to this day. And as he continued reading through the tomes, he discovered more of them. Very few of them, but enough for him to continue his search.
Already now, a few names had been attached to the legend of the Dragon Scroll: the Dragon Warrior, the Furious Five, the Jade Palace, the Valley of Peace… It didn't seem like much, but with this, he now had a wider field to search with. He opened once again one of the books he had read earlier and browsed quickly towards a page where he remembered the name of Furious Five to be written so clearly.
The Furious Five. Regarded as five of the mightiest warriors to have ever existed in the history of China. The descriptive passages were paraphrased by him into those simple sentences. Protectors of the Valley of Peace, they resided in the Jade Palace, which is said was their home until the day of their death.
He skimmed further into the lecture until he found another passage that earlier seemed irrelevant, but now had drawn all his attention.
[…]the Dragon Warrior title would be granted to one of them, and whoever did would become the mightiest kung fu warrior in the history of China. However, none of them were chosen, as legend tells that a different warrior fell from the sky engulfed in a ball of fire, a warrior like no one had ever seen before. That warrior would end up being chosen as the Dragon Warrior. He achieved perfection over nature and became one with the universe.
And after that…nothing. Only more and more mentions of different legendary figures that Vergil cared very little for.
But what he had found proved to be good enough for him. He began to process the newly learned information and began to hypothesize.
It seemed obvious to him now that the Dragon Scroll and the Dragon Warrior were linked together very closely. However, there seemed to be little to no information of the former in comparison to the later. In fact, there seemed to be little information on both altogether, Yet, by contrast, the tales of the Furious Five were all there in the tome, explained briefly, but with enough detail and length.
This was all the information he had now, yet all that he needed. There was nothing else he could use here anymore. Deeming the data on the Five valuable enough, he took the book with him and left the library in silence, turning off all lights along the way and shutting the front door with loose lock. He didn't bother re-arranging all the other tomes, however. That mattered little.
The next morning, the library keeper opened the doors of his library innocently enough, only to receive the unsettling surprise that last night someone had broken into his property and, to add insult to the injury, had stolen some of his material. By the time that occurred, however, Vergil was already far away from that place. He was on his way toward his next destination.
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Blending in among the humans proved to be useful very often. After he had left the villa, he headed towards the nearest airport. The idea of money was ridiculous to him, but if he wanted to be discrete in public, he had to play by their rules sometimes. He spent the cash he had stolen from a clumsy passerby moments ago (the consequence of his crime mattered naught to him) and with it, purchased a ticket for the next flight towards China.
He was traveling lightly and unsuspicious enough. On his small luggage he carried what any average human else would deem as a collectible antique katana (how convenient for Vergil that none of them had any knowledge on the almighty Yamato) along with two books: 'Legendary Warriors from the Far East', the book he had stolen from the library, and another book that he had been carrying since far before that.
It was written in seemingly illegible scribbles. For the ignorant eyes, it would merely be thought of as a book written in a foreign language, but Vergil, who carried knowledge far older than any of theirs, knew by heart what each and every character written in the book translated into.
'Advanced Necromancy: Summoning the Long Deceased' was the title of that book.
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"A meeting of power shall end in conflict."
Guidepost for the Hunter, Chapter 7 - Clause 1
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