They had been through this too many times for any of it to be taken seriously. Day by day, the same thing happened over and over again, and the creatures involved would endure all they needed to ensure that justice prevailed. The term justice was used loosely within the fiery confines of Hell's walls, but the new person in charge managed to change the overarching perception of punishment and consequence in the small duration of his rule. He had adopted a different angle in his approach improving from his father in every way; the souls he ruled over no longer feared him as a leader but respected him for his calm demeanour and just attitude toward the myriad of convoluted affairs he dealt with on a daily basis.

Although most of his undertakings had been taken care of, one such exception was his brother; the epitome of suiting their surroundings better than the current monarch. Cold, ruthless evil standing at six foot two, snow-white glistening hair effortlessly slicked back, humanly-unattainable broad shoulders, aerodynamically muscled build and usually a bright glowing turquoise from the amount of demon blood he was drenched in, he stood tall to await his pending trail. No being could do much to wipe the smug look on his face and it was evident that most had already given up: he had left all these years to the chance that his brother would take pity on him and lessen all the routine punishments dealt to those in the wrong, but even those proved no match to the cockiness and wit of the man in blue, searching for methods to make them more brutal than their intended purpose. He had to do something. Something bad; something that would scare him into never wanting to return to the mindset he presently had. Everyone knew it too, and the sole idea was the step their leader would take to eradicate – or at least hinder – the actions by the demon standing in front of him. The enormous room was silent; he needed to think outside of the box for something to rupture his brother's core so devastatingly vile that he himself might be ashamed at making his own flesh and blood endure it.

He watched him cautiously a few steps away, trying to gauge any form of reaction from his elder but knowing he would be disappointed with the icy look of death in the pair of eyes he had been forced to look at since he sat on the throne; he had assumed things would be much easier having his best friend by his side or going in knowing one damned soul similar to his, but the degree to which his destructive influence had hovered over the infernal community was astonishing.

Dante was heartbroken. He was too trusting in thinking he could change.

He stood, exhausted from overthinking, and lazily dragged his feet across the room to meet his brother. "When is this going to end, Vergil?"

He stared at him blankly, his face devoid of acknowledging Dante; the heavy titanium chains that bound him owned more character and feeling. "I don't think I know what you're talking about-"

"I've asked you a simple question, and now I want an answer." They were inches from one another, testing their patience. Vergil despised anything invading his personal space – a fact Dante knew and would use to his advantage as much as possible. Being in this proximity shut down his normal thinking process and switched his mind to attack mode, something that couldn't easily be done given where he was and who he was dealing with; harming Dante was a suicide note he wasn't ready to sign yet. It wouldn't stop him, but he knew that was the dumbest thing he could do.

Evil incarnate smiled back. Intimidation was lost on Vergil, even from the person who currently ruled over the domain he was destroying. "There won't be one, brother."

"Is that so?" They were evenly matched, identical in every way, and yet their personalities couldn't be more different. Being the only pure hybrids in existence, there was an exact ratio of human and demon between them and it was obvious which side they each took a particular liking to. The corner of Dante's mouth lifted a notch, making him look obscenely harmless. Demented almost, like a character out of a sick, twisted fantasy novel.

Vergil closed the gap between them as his smile faded, glaring into the same intense eyes as his own. "And while you're refining your tough guy façade, make it more believable – I can practically taste the fear radiating from you."

Something sinister gleamed in the younger brother's eyes that made Vergil proud. Deep in his stomach, he felt a very familiar and unwelcomed tingling, one whose sensations brought with it an untold feeling that he had only ever felt once before. Without prior warning, Dante eyes burned a pitiful shade of red as he leaned in and whispered into his ear, solidifying the feel of delightful trepidation inside him. "I've never been afraid of you, Vergil, and I never will be." A scorching hand moved up Vergil's arm and rested on his shoulder, burning a hole through three layers of clothing. The older demon winced under the pain of Dante's touch, not because of the action but because of the golden blood trail left as a result of his direct defiance. "Please know this, and never forget it." He moved to the other side of the room and focused on something other than the current inconvenience.

He removed his hand and the blood seeped back into Vergil's temporary wound, healing instantly and regaining its feeling. He squared his jaw and rolled his shoulder for good measure, his eyes darting more anger in his brother's direction than he thought could manifest inside his frame. Vergil wasn't keen on following orders in any domain especially since his current residence held a NO RULES policy; having no limit to handing out excruciating pain to those who didn't deserve it was right up his alley, and there was no better place suited for him and his overbearing urges to make innocent souls suffer. Of course most of the guilt dissolved under the circumstance that these souls were in the Underworld and damned for an eternity of agony and suffering anyway, so what harm was there in prematurely ending their torment and sending them one step closer to a possible permanent death?

Apparently quite a bit.

Vergil arrived in the Underworld by improper means. Much like every other soul that had tolerated the imbalanced scales of Limbo and finding their escape in Hell, he had bypassed the rite of passage and came straight for the corrupted honeypot filled to the brim with killers and criminals of the worst nature with one mission in mind – a mission that would prove to be a monumental task not worth risking his life over; so many times had he escaped hanging by a thread that he ultimately, with a heavy heart, turned his back on the single destiny he assumed was his. When it came to light that the Underworld was under new management – and by his younger brother, no less – he inadvertently lost the last marble holding his sanities together and underwent a rampage that had not stopped until now. The only breaks in between were the complaints and trials held much like the one he was in now, indirectly inconveniencing Dante's intentions of bringing order to the sordid environment.

And he had absolutely no inclination to stop, regardless of his standing with Dante. All he had to do was make it through his punishments alive as he always did and the cycle would reset. His reign of terror was far from over; breaking the news to Dante took away half the fun.

"So, in essence of what you're saying, you wish for me to banish my birth right as a ruthless, irrational killing machine and replace it with an abandoned lost little piggy just trying to make its way home?" Dante, who was focused on a painting turned slightly at his brother's words. Vergil's face was void of all emotion with a look so spine-chilling it could undoubtedly freeze Hell over. Twice. His deep voice added unnecessary tension, hanging heavy inside the huge room.

The ruler of the Underworld couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm asking you to pipe down-"

"And I'm saying no." Yamato sensed the hostility in the room and materialised out of thin air. It would be pointless to attack Dante point blank in enemy territory, but the appearance of the pale blue sheath caused Dante to take a few rational steps back as he was cautiously reminded of the power Vergil possessed and acquired during his time there.

The amulet around his neck was glowing, alerting him of a supernatural energy within the vicinity possessing semi-harmful intent. He dropped his head to watch the magical stone as it reacted violently to Vergil's energy emitting from his own half, hidden under the collar of his coat. Dante found solace in the trinket, always coping with the obstacles of the day by drawing a resolving sense of tranquillity from its shiny core. He turned to it for advice in times of despair, letting his mother guide him through the never-ending maze of doubt and misperception to find an exit worthy of the leader that he was. Regretfully, he would have to face Vergil and his ways on his own, and his maze grew at such a rate that no end was in sight. "You think mom would be proud of what you're doing?"

Vergil had one lone weakness. Very few knew of it, and Dante was the one to exploit it most. "Don't you dare bring our mother into this-"

"You don't have to worry, Verge. She's dead – the dead have no conscience."

The reaction of the amulet intensified with Vergil's rising temper. Both halves vibrated against their chests, performing in invisible combat before their owners slit each other's throats. "I will not say it again, Dante."

And in that moment the light bulb finally clicked and a beautifully vulgar smile found its way to the surface while he trod softly to his throne. "I still have to reprimand you."

To the right of his throne sat The Watcher, a bulbous orb the size of a bowling ball. Within it swirled thousands upon thousands of blinking lights of different colours. Each light represented a life form's soul and the colour determined its race: when a light died out, the soul within the inebriated body rose and became one with the atmosphere – if strong enough, another body could be inhabited and the colours would mingle to create a new race of sorts. If not, it would wander with the dust until its strength ran out and dissipate from existence. The Watcher also carried the responsibility of keeping the obedience of Dante's subjects: similar to signing a contract, he would place his hands on the glass sphere and audibly state the reprimand to which an automatic, imperceptible link between The Watcher and the punished is established. This link detailed the journey on and off course, whereas the latter would begin the cycle of torture again as each reprimand rose exponentially in difficulty, making it damn near impossible to complete it unscathed.

Dante ushered Vergil to it – the ball itself could do no harm as he only carried out orders from his master. The blue clad hybrid walked without purpose to the artefact, humouring the demon hovering over in fascination. "Now isn't exactly the time to-"

"What do you see Vergil?" Dante asked, keeping his eyes on the round purple glass.

He was unbelievable. With a heavy sigh, Vergil leaned forward and tried to see what his brother did, straining his eyes against the fluorescent coloured ball of activity. He peeled his eyes for anything out of the ordinary; granted, he had never seen it before, but many beings in the deeper part of the Underworld spoke ill of the bead of terror which he guessed he was looking at right now. Vergil tilted his head in different positions and finally noticed something peculiar. Two things in fact, and now he was intrigued. "What are those?"

He was careful not to touch the sphere with his bare hands and managed to point out two golden blots in close proximity to each other. Their surface area was bigger than the rest of the multi-coloured dots and their cores had a gel-like swirl that made it distinctive from the other species. The anxious look in his eyes made Dante giggle, like the answer should be right in front of him. "That's us, Verge," he said, "and before you ask, our bloodline makes it gold. Although we are half and half, we are a pure demon and pure human mix-"

"Can we please just get to the p-" Deep in the centre of the orb – give or take a few inches – sat a tiny translucent light blinking happily by itself. It was almost invisible to the naked eye, and if you didn't know what you were looking for you'd probably miss it. The light moved abnormally, morphing in and out of shape, not a static circle like every other indicator inside the orb.

Vergil hadn't realised he fell silent and Dante stepped back while his brother stayed transfixed. "I take it you see him."

Vergil watched the blob move around as it mutated into unrecognisable shapes; he noticed that it stayed far away from the other blinking lights, assuming it was in some sort of haven away from anyone or anything that could potentially burst its bubble. "Him?"

"A human."

He wrenched his eyes away from the sphere, glaring at his brother. If looks could kill, Dante would have been on the ground in an instant. Vergil wasn't easily shaken, yet those two words burned a hole in the sane part of his psyche.

Humans never held a viable track record when it came to surviving any realm other than their own; unlike most of the creatures that took residence in Hell, they weren't built for survival. They were born, achieved their purpose and died off. According to him they were a waste of space and energy, created solely for the overpopulation of the planet they were given and to mess with and annoy superior beings such as himself. Vergil never liked them; he hated everything, but nothing came close to the hate he set aside for the human race. "Why are you telling me this?"

Dante watched the anger exude through clenched teeth as he stood upright and placed his hand on The Watcher, the purple turning to a blood red as his fingers sank into the mass and the object caught fire, claiming a sliver of Dante's soul as he relayed the verdict of Vergil's punishment. The fragment transformed into a pellet the size of a ball bearing and darted through his clothes, burning a hole in his skin.

"Because, as of right now and the next thirty days, he is under your care."