God. Chapter 7 is finally here…to everyone, I am SO sorry it took this amazingly long to get up. It's been lying in my notebook for the longest time, I just haven't had the time to type it up and revise it…this is actually pretty brief, and I leave it off at a pretty cruel cliffhanger. But I SWEAR TO GOD the next Chapter is coming within 2-3 days, and it will be packed with fighting/plot advancement galore. I have to really get things going, characterization aside for actual story advancement. So yes, quality and speed picking up in Chapter 8…guaranteed to come very soon. Thanks for everyone's reviews, especially the constructive criticism! Without them I don't think I would have even been past Chapter 1.

Enjoy!


She couldn't be human.

She couldn't. If she was, he would have killed her instantly.

His mouth burned, scarlet weal across his face. IT was a brand of disgust, a contaminated limb that should have been amputated; festering and destructive.

It didn't help that he had enjoyed it.

It didn't help that his insides begged him to pin the girl to a wall and ravage her.

She couldn't be human, because no human would have dared to get so close to him; Vergil, the half-devil, the Son of Sparda, the monster. No weak little human would have survived the countless injuries, have risked such self-sacrifice in kissing him-

But she did.

Lady, with her constant, pathetic mask of roughness, stoicism; a kitten struggling to sharpen her claws. She was so frail, so flawed and utterly innocent, even in the wanton way she had approached him, with her sultry eyes, the burning desire; even in seduction, he couldn't help but see her as Mary. Mary, a girl who would name her rocket after her deceased mother. A girl who wanted vengeance simply for justice, for virtue; not for power, satisfaction, the beautiful bloodshed. She was a demon hunter who willingly made a pact with a devil, to open up a demonic world. To her bi-toned eyes, the ends were justifiable for any means…

So what did she wish to accomplish with such a kiss?

She was the most human of all humans; so utterly mortal in her naiveties, her girlish standards and justices, propelled to act by nothing but sheer emotions and fiery resolve to make things better, the kind of person who still believed the world could be fixed someday, that what she was doing had meaning, and yet she was prejudiced, hateful, spiting the demonic race as a scapegoat to her father's tyranny. She was still simply a little pup in human terms, defenseless and silly and too ethical for her own good. Didn't she see that the world revolved around bloodshed?

And she was, apparently, brash and suicidal. Vergil had no doubt Lady would gladly die for her goals, she had told him herself she was planning to. But wouldn't he, if it was inevitable?

Strange, how he could share such fire with a girl of such worthless blood. Arkham's blood, the exact counterpart. He wondered if she could really make the bastard bleed. She wouldn't make Vergil. He wouldn't be human, no matter how she tried-

"Whore."

The word left Vergil's lips before he could control it. Lady's head rose slightly; she was descending the stone steps ahead, her mother's namesake cradled with tenderness in her arms.

He wanted her recognition. Vergil would not be shunned, especially not by this wench. He stroked the blade of Yamato at his side, remembered his coat hanging dormant on her shoulders. Was that what had possessed her to destroy the modesty he had so scoffed at before?

But Lady didn't reply, further than pausing for a moment, continuing her descent.

"Lust is a human handicap. What did you mean, by trying to infect me? What of our pact-what of your talks of love?"

She stiffened then, her voice slow, rippling with aggravation,

"I decided that since I'm going to die in this tower…why not try?"

Blue eyes froze in rigid reluctance; what was this girl saying?

"Do you really plan on dying here? Is that what your ultimate goal is?"

His voice was a forceful sneer; he could feel his body grow hot and uncomfortable at her words. Was it anger he was feeling? She was, after all, simply human-had he expected her strength and knowledge to be that of his mother's? Vergil stood a statue of ice, his gaze unnerved as he steeled himself, expectant, for a response. But the ebony-haired girl merely hung her head, her eyes refusing to meet his own, feet shifting upon the stone steps. The Son of Sparda found himself growling.

"Pathetic."

"But I'm only a human, remember?" Her voice trembled as she spoke; a violin whose strings had been pulled viciously from its serenade, frantic to continue, "I can kill my father, but I can't live with myself."

She truly was a child, then-Vergil watched her fingertips tremble as they held Kalina Ann, her eyes struggling to find the fire that had been ablaze moments before. Mary needed fire to keep her burning; retribution. His mind leapt to Mundus.

"You want vengeance," He said, pacing in a circle before her, his eyes never leaving hers, "You want justice. You pay the price of defeating Arkham-couldn't that be enough, girl?"

But Lady could only smile. With one fluid flick of her gloved wrist, her smile became bittersweet as she pulled Arkham's former tome from her side, the ruffled pages emblazoned with the figure of a standing woman with lines across her flesh, the rectangular outline of an altar beneath.

"Does the tower know I've shed enough blood?"

Her voice became a whisper, eyes appearing glazed and strangely stoic, "No wonder you wanted to keep me alive. A 'Human Priestess,' isn't that what you'd call me?"

Vergil's mind went numb. Yamato seemed to his at his side, the image of Jester's laughing face in his mind…

The solution to passing the area beyond. One step closer to unlocking pure power. The blood of a Human Priestess…so much blood, she would have been better off dead.

"So, then," Lady continued speaking, her voice parched and cracking in her throat, her eyes hurt, "My life, in exchange for ending Arkham's? I see, now. This was all a plan, a fucking trap to deceive me! You used me for my blood, nothing else!" She was screaming, now, cries of grief, the way her eyes stared up towards the sky, as if begging, praying, her skin whiter than any living human, limbs convulsing-

"Mary," Vergil whispered, wanting to tell her he had no idea what was in Arkham's damned book, he used her simply to use her on his journey-

"Don't fucking call me that!" Kalina Ann was pointed towards him, its sharp blade glinting against the abysmal darkness; but it was shaking, her face pink, eyes glistening-

"I'm going to die here eventually, juts like you wanted, and you have to destroy Arkham, just like our pact says!"

The silver-haired devil could say nothing. What could he say to her frantic state that would fix this predicament, that could possibly sedate her? If she did this sacrifice eventually, he would be able to progress further, attain true power. If she did this, he could destroy Mundus, once and for all.

But death?

Did this girl really want to die?

Why did he care?

"Lady."

Vergil didn't know what to say. What could he say? Lady-…Mary hung her head, her weapon shaking so wildly in her grip it became an ebony blur. Slowly, she stepped backwards, a snarl on her pale features, aching to distance herself as far away from the devil as possible.

"Never trust a devil," She whispered in quiet defeat, the sudden dark depths of her eyes causing his body to shudder, "Not even a Son of Sparda."

Her gaze was a void; a realization of her mortality. At that moment, Vergil recognized her fury; it was the fury of a girl realizing her life would have to break, her dreams shattered, her body destroyed. It was the realization that her dreams were simply worthless naiveties, that in the midst of war she must face reality and die like another human sacrifice.

"Mary…"

And as he found himself walking towards her, unsheathing Yamato in a flash of silver, Vergil did not know whether he was about to attack her or embrace her. Lady watched, suddenly; her composure faltering, her breath abated, eyes wide…

"MOVE!"

The sound of gunshots filled the room-in an instant his senses exploded into bursts of adrenaline, and he was pushing her behind him in a blur of silver, his arms flung before her trembling frame, barrages of bullets flying towards him-

Yamato surged forward in a wide arc, cutting away at the blasts as easily as paper; they fell in slivers upon the ground, metallic rain that clattered with empty promises of death. Behind him, Lady was gasping for breath; he could smell the sweat upon her flesh, the confusion in her mind, the raucous pumping of the blood beneath.

Yet Vergil was suddenly preoccupied with another smell.

It was a stench; a sickly, disgusting stench that filled his nostrils and caused him to want to vomit. It was the smell of inadequacy; the smell of half-bred mortality…the smell of original sin. It was the smell of his own blood that caused his senses to grow sharp as knives, a growl emanating from deep within the bowels of his throat, his most cannibalistic instincts. It took all of his strength to keep the demon within at bay, to keep his steady composure as the word fell from his lips like a curse,

"Welcome, brother."

A shocked cry from Lady's mouth was all it took for Vergil to disappear in a flash of blue light, reappearing only feet away from where he had once stood. What lay impaled within the ground was none other than his father's blade, Rebellion, so deeply it seemed to cut the marble clean in half, rubble lying victimized around its long body. He turned in an instant to see Lady slumped against the wall, her eyes wide in shock at the proximity of the blade situated almost neatly between her outstretched legs; with a soft shudder, she pulled herself to her feet and gasped again.

Vergil knew almost instantly what he would find when he turned.

"Well, looks like I found the party!"

A cheerful voice shouted the words so loudly it echoed across the hollow halls, the resonant screams of two pistols following shortly in its wake. Shirking away from the rain of bullets, Vergil quickly pulled Yamato to his side and simply deflected them in another wide arc of his blade; swinging his sword forward in the direction they had come to volley them back in the attacker's direction. Hysterical laughter rippled through the air as a scarlet blur emerged from the darkness, and before the blink of a human eye the exact replica of Vergil stood, grinning with amiable hatred before him, grabbing hold of Rebellion with a flourish as he twirled it with one hand around his body, pointing its tip straight at the blue demon's face.

"I didn't expect you to resort to kidnapping all the babes, but I guess you've been pretty desperate lately, am I right, brother? I mean…all of your guests weren't exactly the warmest welcome, but I made sure to entertain them!"

As if to accentuate his words, he twirled the blade between his fingertips, flashing a cocky grin upon his alabaster features. Dante stole a curious look towards Lady, who stood dormant in a corner of the room, her face expressionless save for her pursed lips. With a quick wink in her direction, he turned towards Vergil again, who stood as stone still as if his brother's sudden appearance had not fazed him whatsoever.

"My sincerest apologies, brother. I was so eager for your arrival, I couldn't afford a more exciting bash," The older devil hissed towards his brother, his fists clenched so hard against the hilt of his sword he could feel the cool blood trickling from his palms.

Dante never faltered in Rebellion's aim; it pointed resolutely at Vergil's face, and within an instant, Yamato mirrored his actions without hesitation. They circled each other in the confines of the hall, blurs of blue and red in their speed; Vergil could not see Lady nearby, yet he could smell her trepidation; her confusion. He wondered if she knew Dante, if she knew their encounter was inevitable.

Yet there were more important things to attend to.

"I guess we've been overdue for a family reunion, huh?" Dante retorted smoothly, his sapphire eyes glinting with wicked mirth, "How would you like a kiss from your little brother? It's been so long…"

"Lady, I order you to leave," Vergil found himself suddenly shouting towards the girl he knew still lingered in the room-and both she and Dante froze in surprise.

"So this babe here is your little fuck buddy, is that it?" With a fluidity quick enough to rival that of his brother's, Dante turned again towards Lady, interest renewed in his gaze, "And I've always wondered why so many men have found fucking to be so powerful. Well, now I know! Is this how you go about destroying the world, brother?"

His amused tone caused a burst of fire to erupt in Vergil's veins. In an instant, he was walking towards him, eyes narrowed, determined to discard his brother's carcass, retrieve his mother's amulet, and be finished with him-

Power, no matter the costs.

"Let me show you what true power means, brother."

"That's more like it!"

With a burst of laughter, Dante rushed from Lady's side and, hurling himself towards his brother, dove his blade straight downwards to strike at his face. Immediately Vergil's sword clashed with his own, and they began their struggle, neither willing to stop until the other dropped infinitely and irrevocably dead.

It was bloodlust at its finest.