Spoilers/Warning: This fiction contains spoilers about the game and its ending so consider yourself warned.

Dedication: To all my reviewers (If anyone ever does that is  )

Disclaimer: Devil may cry isn't mine, neither is Dante, Vergil or Lady. I don't own any of them.

A/N: Am I focusing on Lady too much?

I stare at the devil as he calmly enters the room, full of himself as always. I try to harden my face in an "I don't give a damn that you're here" expression, but my facial muscles could not pull it off. My face twitches with pain when I try to stand up straight.

He walks up to me with a smug grin across his face, and says laconically, "What's wrong, you tired? Then stand back. I'll take care of this."

He says that as if he owns me. Who does he think he is?

Any thoughts of him being generous vanish from my head, and I look at him with the same hatred I show towards all the other demons.

I was hurt, I was bleeding, my legs were in so much pain that I wanted to just collapse on the floor, and I sure was not in the mood to be ordered around by a devil.

I will not let him make me feel that I'm weak. I need to finish what my father started. I'll be the one to kill him. No one else has that right.

I point my Desert Eagle at his forehead and say with clenched teeth, "No, YOU stand back."

He pauses for a moment, giving me the false expression that he is going to grant my wish.

Then the next moment, he turns around, and before I know it, is holding the barrel of my gun in his hand. I hearthe sound of a shot going off, and realized I had shot him.

Again.

Not intentionally, but I had done it.

Still holding the barrel of my gun, he looks straight into my eyes. His icy blue eyes were fixed on my face. The mischievous glint that always resided in those blue orbs were gone, was replaced with a cold, glaring stare.

A thin line of smoke was still coming out of the tip of the barrel of my gun.

He speaks, and the coldness of his voice chill my senses, "I told you, you can't do it. Don't you get it? This is not a human's job."

He didn't understand. Was I expecting him to?

The fact made me even more frustrated than before and I shot back, "You're the one who doesn't get it."

I shake my head as I try one last time to make him see from my point. "It's not something you can reason with. It has nothing to do with me being a human and you being a demon."

He stares intently at me with a misty, glazed over look on his face that makes my frustrations reach their limits.

I shove my gun in his bare chest and advance towards him, making him retreat a few steps, "I'm driven by the inability to forgive him. My soul is screaming, demanding me to kill him."

He stops moving back and with one swift motion of his hand, makes my gun fall from my hand. I take a deep breath and continue, "That's enough motivation to keep me going."

I collect my Kalina Ann which was rested against a bookshelf. I hang it from my shoulder and gave him a scornful look, "Besides, this is my family matter. You should stay out of it."

I turned around to exit the library, but was a bit offended when I heard him frowning from behind. I turn to face him again.

His face was annoyed, and his voice clearly showed how irritated he was.

"Okay Lady, I get the picture now. But I can't just sit back and watch either. I'm pretty pissed at him too, ya know." My father was never recognized for his affability.

Within one second, he pulls out his dual handguns and points them at me as he says in an ordering tone, "Now, get out of my way or there'll be some consequences."

That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. Enough with this monkey business! It is time I stopped being nice to menacing devils.

In one fluid movement, I brought my beloved weapon, Kalina Ann, to my hands from my shoulders, and hissed, "Fair enough. I wasn't planning to let any demons live anyway."

I emphasize on every syllable as I declare, "Not even one!"

I fire a missile at the arrogant bastard, but he, of course, with his unparallel speed and power, jumps high into the air and landed just after the missile reduced the nearest bookshelf into a trash pile.

"Showtime." Were the last words I heard from him before another barrage of my missiles flied at his direction…