AN: Enjoy and reviews are much appreciated so drop a line.

:Nine:

…take her...the…il preparations are completed

…and of…of…nte?

…leave that to me…me

…

Instead of remaining shrouded and disguised, the new mural was situated in a most apparent location.

The circular lobby was lavishly decorated with chandeliers, busts of great figures and paintings of beautiful, ghostly forms. No sign of demonic activity was present on the floor. Everything was still, save for the purposeful strides Vergil took as he walked through the arched stone bridge and into the lobby, carrying the small figure of an unconscious woman; one arm supporting the shoulders and the other supporting the legs. He moved swiftly, passing the life-sized statues at the side, noticing how their gaze seemed to shadow his movement but he paid them no mind, focusing on his destination. Walking to the far right side of the circular lobby, he set the woman down roughly; the sweet scent she exuded crept into his nasal cavities, provoking perilous thoughts as the demon within reared its head and bared its fangs with a savage grin. Watching her expression as she slumbered on, her eyebrows furrowed and twitched slightly on her otherwise serene, innocent face. His eyes trailed over her heart-shaped face, her dainty nose marred by a line running along bridge, the full lips that seemed lusciously soft…

Vermin. She's vermin

He closed his eyes to compose himself. He needed to get this over with quickly. Then he could get rid of her.

Taking out his brother's gleaming amulet set in silver, he turned his gaze to the mural he now stood in front of. Instead of a battle, it depicted a prominent figure in the centre amongst a variety of humanoid figures and creatures.

It was the Judgement Day for those who walked the earth, the oppression of the malicious entities that had enveloped the world.

Staring at the details of the painting, it was something far more different than what he had thought the mural would have depicted. In contrast to the previous portrayal and to the contradiction to the multiple sources he'd studied, the prominent figure was not of Sparda - nor was it a human.

It was like an angel; the ones from fairytale books, imaginary things, but so much more magnificent.

A female standing tall, proudly over the top of various inhuman creatures. Dressed in a flowing white sleeveless gown with metallic and brown leather armour strapped to her shoulders and chest, her great majestic wings spanned from the centre of her back with luscious swirling masses of long, midnight black hair flowing freely behind her in an unseen draught of wind, tamed by a crown of crystalline jewels set in gold entwined into the locks. Her heavily lashed eyes were glowering down upon her subjects in a queenly gaze as she pointed her golden sceptre down to the creatures littering her feet.

She was the Priestess. The female who sacrificed her blood for the continuance of humanity. The human who gave her pure blood to the world and banished the sins to an alternate realm. She was far more ethereal than the accounts had recorded. The one who had divided the inhabitants of the Earth to give new life. A Light and Dark. With Sparda at her side, the world was split, providing the humans with renewed hope of continued survival.

Trailing his eyes further down, at the centre of the Priestess' chest armour, was a shallow impression much like the previous. Prepared for the effects, he held the heated amulet between his fingers and slotted the jewel into the impression. Like the last time, a ripple undulated from the amulet as though the mural was water. Releasing the amulet, he pulled his hand back, watching the surface of the painting cling to his fingers as he pulled away and snap back to reform a smooth, undisturbed surface, leaving the amulet suspended in top.

Turning around, he bent down to effortlessly lift the unconscious woman up again, stepping up to the painting with the hand supporting her legs outstretched to grasp the glowing amulet from its suspension and glided through the liquefied wall.

It was like the other hidden chamber; confined and claustrophobic. There was only just enough room for Vergil to set Mary down on the ground while he pocketed Dante's amulet. Unlike the first chamber, this stone room was generously decorated with illuminated gems embedded into the walls, a pulsating glow from thin, spidery, lines that branched out like vines across the walls, illuminated the chamber with a blue hue. In the centre of the opposite wall stood the same stone pedestal, carved into the wall with a recess filled with the same quicksilver liquid. No cogs or wheels were turning this time; it was just a pedestal, filled with liquid that swirled churned in its basin like misty clouds.

How was he going to get her blood in there now? Turning to gaze at her limp form, Vergil walked forward, leaning down on a knee and pulled his sword from its sheath. Taking a wrist, he carefully made a small methodical incision; enough to give blood and prevent extensive blood loss; a feat in itself with a long blade. A twitch of her eyebrows and a quirk of her lips made her frown slightly, as though she could feel the pain, but he didn't dwell on her possible awakening; he had removed her blasphemous weapons beforehand should she wake up anytime. He held her up by the waist like a doll, her head flopping back onto his shoulder while he took the scored wrist, holding it over the swirling liquid and squeezed hard. Drops of scarlet fell in a steady, slow drip towards the watery surface and sizzling upon contact. Each drop intensified the now violently churning liquid, sputtering and hissing as the crimson droplets were engulfed.

The warm, soft mass in his arms shifted, awakening, but he kept her arm outstretched, ignoring her slight stirrings, continually dripping red liquid as the bubbling fluid boiled below.

Survival, endurance, existence. Everything hung in the balance now.

…

With a turn of the head, Mary opened her eyes, blinking the sleep away only to focus on her arm outstretched, held by another hand, clutching her wrist she was – was she bleeding?

Fully aware of the pain that itched along her wrist, she yanked her arm back, only to find that the steel grip was not going to yield. Pushing backwards didn't help either as she was currently suspended above the ground, the tips of her toes only just grazing the stone floor. Panic coursed through her body like a trapped animal and she frantically grunted and wriggled, jerking her arms and legs. Judging from the blue sleeve that was holding her, she had a pretty good idea on who was holding her captive.

"Let me go! Let me go, you bastard! Let – me – go!" she kicked back at the legs behind her. Aiming a swift kick in the precise position, which was harder to do due to her height, she pushed with all her strength. Although her aim was a fraction too high, she connected with the pelvis, hitting what she thought to be tender flesh and earning a strained grunt. The hand that held her wrist loosened and she immediately grabbed onto the side of the recess to hold her balance, her fingers brushing the surface of the churning, boiling liquid. With a gasp, she snatched her coated hand away, grasping at the fingers around her waist in an attempt to pry them off.

Touching that creep was probably her second mistake.

First was entering this godforsaken tower. She thought to herself as she felt the strong arm around her waist loosen a fraction and they both tumbled to the hard ground, heads connecting harshly to the cold stone.

…

It was dark. Where he was at that moment, he didn't know, but Arkham's girl wasn't around anymore. And the pain was gone; both the burning sensation on his hand and from when that wench lashed out at him. He decided he didn't like her at all, not that there was a doubt but her senseless actions were going to get her killed sooner than she thought. Stupid, foolish girl. When he got out of this dream world again, he'd definitely be the one that bit back.

Turning around, he saw nothing but bottomless black. Where the hell was he? Taking a few steps forward, a light began to glimmer in the distance; feebly shining to a sea of empty space like a lighthouse beacon, intensifying each second until his retinas burned from the glare. Shielding his sensitive eyes, he was wary of what lay ahead. His left hand instinctively went to his side but felt nothing except air. Looking down only confirmed that he was unequipped and he cursed. Feeling vulnerable without any weapons, he'd have to go without, although he knew his combat skills were still exceptional.

Stepping towards the light source, he clenched then unclenched his fists. It was a habit that was becoming a nuisance; ever since he first unravelled the seal to the gateway, he'd been on edge, wary and cautious of the planning, the timing. He needed complete control and this was definitely one variable he hadn't taken into account. Which brought him back to the question: where in the world was he?

He was still walking forwards, walking towards nothing it seemed. The more he progressed, the further the light seemed to be. Until he saw it. At first it seemed like the silhouette of an angel, great wings spread out majestically, fluttering in the wind, just like the image of the Priestess. The ones that were golden-haired and fair; supreme creatures that floated down from Heaven to guide the poor innocent people.

Too bad there's no such thing.

Steeling himself, he clenched his fists tightly, the slight creak of leather echoing in the still, silent void. Squinting through the harsh rays of light, his frown deepened and his face hardened. He continued to stride forward.

…

Where am I?

It was somewhere he wasn't familiar with, somewhere dark and cold. Where only the swollen, blood-red moon shone light on his surroundings and the sky itself was pitch black sprinkled with glittering stars. Huh…stars. Now that was a rare sight; he hadn't seen stars in a long time, what with all the pollution and smog that constantly covered the night sky.

It was actually quite relaxing; soothing to see the vastness of the speckled sky. Cranking his neck further back, he frowned when he caught sight of three burning, ruby red points that insidiously festered high above, crackling with an ominous energy.

Glancing back around him, Dante started forward, not really sure where to go. Treading on the cushiony grass, he walked down the hill, towards the fringes of the city below but something was off. Gazing back towards the hill he had stood on before, he caught sight of a slender figure. Narrowing his eyes, he made out the short dark hair, the long sleeve shirt and the red boots. It was the lady.

Swiftly walking back up, he made his way to her, stopping a foot away as she gazed at him.

"It's so beautiful, the sky. I've never seen it so clear before." she stared up with her swirling mismatched eyes.

"Yeah it is...but where are we?" he glanced up and back to her again.

"Hey, snap out of it!" he clicked his fingers in front of her, startling her from her daze.

"I…don't know…but this place, it seems so peaceful, so quiet. Like it used to be before…." she gave a small shudder and Dante realised just how young she really looked; delicate like a blossoming flower and yet, when she got riled up, she turned into a complete fireball, ready to combust with the slightest provocation.

"Hey." he said gently as he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her small frame. An explosion of feelings flooded his mind instantly as he did so. Hurt…hatred…humiliation…loneliness. He felt it all so vividly, deep gashes that formed scars along her soul, etching deeper as the time flew forward, permanently establishing a wall around her heart. What happened to create this? How did it get so extreme? Flashes of the girl in his arms at a young age flew by him; her as a twelve year old with her mother; a sixteen year old on the streets, stalking the nights with a fiery gaze; a nineteen year old taking on cloaked figures, nimbly weaving in and out and slicing left, right with a slim sword. Just as the flashes came, they were gone. Replaced by a blank emptiness that seemed to extend infinitely.

She stood in his warm embrace awkwardly, unaware of the scenes that played out in his mind and frozen on the spot at the close contact, but after a few moments, she relaxed, her arms remaining at her sides. He didn't seem to notice. Only pondering on the images that he'd witnessed, thinking about how she'd grown up so lonely and full of hurt. Just like him…? Don't go there, he thought to himself. The last thing he wanted was to drag up old memories of his own past. This was now, and he didn't want to think about anything anymore.

Seconds, minutes even, passed on in the silence, only the steady beat of her heart could be heard.

The only thoughts drifting in and out of his mind was that it just felt so right, holding something that was so real, something that wasn't trying to kill him or get into his pants. He closed his eyes. No battles, no screaming and no constantly moving about. He felt the tranquillity for once, the soft breeze blowing his tussled hair about, the warmth of the girl in his arms; it really was peaceful.

The sound of rustling broke the calm and he opened his eyes, staring at the city below. A shift in the shadows, followed by writhing silhouettes, he could just make out the glowing red eyes, stalking their prey with a burning hunger. As he lifted his head, he released the lady from the safe circle of his arms, watching as the city landscape began to melt, swirling and engulfing the ruby red glowing points. The sky was falling onto the city as they watched on from the hill; a dark blanket draped itself over the buildings, encompassing all the light that was emitted by streetlights and buildings, snuffing out the life of the city while the wind was blowing more violently, the chilling ambience creeping up her spine. Everything was black now, the only light coming from above, from the three scarlet red points, watching them steadily.

…

Red. That was all she saw really. Everywhere she turned, there were so many different shades but the main colour that she could see was burning red. Red like wine. Ruby red, like blood.

Stepping forward, the crusted dry dirt crackled under her boot. It was dry as a desert and that's what it really felt like. Searing hot and dry with no moisture; the sky was a bloody orange as well with no cloud or shade in sight.

This was just too weird. At one point, she was standing on a hill, watching the stars with Dante, who decided to share body heat and while that did feel good, she wasn't going to lie, it was a bit unnecessary. Her cheeks flushed as her mind raced back to the hill; it had been a long while since anybody had held her so tenderly and gently, but she needed to think. She needed to keep her focus.

Now where was she? No wonder she had flushed, the air was stifling hot, the wind that swept over her was boiling.

Everywhere she turned, the buildings were torn: bricks, glass, everything was gone save for the bent, twisted metal frames, a ghostly shadow of what used to stand in place of the desolate area. Some buildings were still standing, however, with large portions bitten out of the side like an apple. She walked on, down the street; walking, trying to find something, anything that would give her some clue as to what she was doing here. What kind of a hell hole was this?

And that was the problem. This was hell. It felt like hell, not like the one before. No, that one felt like fairies and garden parties compared to this one. What unnerved her here was the fact that there were no screams, no cries for help, just nobody. It was quiet and dead like an empty vacuum of air. Trucks tipped over onto their sides, cars and buses swerved onto an angle and piled into a heap were left charred, their windows shattered. A skeleton in the drivers seat, charred black with crisp papery garments clinging to the frame. The remains of the bus driver too, was left in his - or could it have been a her? - seat, hunched over the wheel. She didn't dare look inside, knowing that it was a school bus from the peeling, yellow paint.

Burning fires were still flaring in some of the cars, some burning in the buildings but she didn't care. She wanted to get out. The smell of burnt flesh and bubbled human fat caught her nostrils and she tried to breathe through her mouth though only scalding her lungs with the heat. It was impossible to get away from the stench.

So she ran. Ran forwards, not caring which way, just forward and away from all of it. Dodging the debris that littered the ground, and the bones that were scattered everywhere, she sprinted, until she came to an intersection. Wide, with cars and trucks and vans all piled into the middle, forming a caravan of vehicles. The intersection traffic lights, bent and twisted on their poles, were glowing, flashing indistinct colours at random intervals, but what caught her eye was the figure standing amongst the wreckage.

Cool, composed and completely detached. Vergil. What was he doing? Why did he pull her into this place? He seemed oblivious to her presence. Not surprising but upon closer inspection as she neared him, he seemed to have a slight frown on his sharp, sculpted features, studying his surroundings with a detached air.

As she approached him, she followed his crystal gaze to a nearby car where a skeletal figure lay stooped over the half melted, deformed steering wheel.

"Where…is this?" she asked. Her own voice sounded a bit dreamy, slow, as if she were floating on clouds.

"This is your world," he said equally slowly, but a hard tone underlying the words, "don't you recognise it? This is Hell. It's the real world."

What the heck was he previously smoking? She looked into his frosty eyes, illuminating an electric blue amongst all the burning heat surrounding them. This was Hell? She half expected a devil with red horns and a three pronged fork to jump from the cars, but she knew that real devils were far more intimidating than that. The real world, huh? No, he just wasn't thinking straight.

"No, this is your world, you brought me here! You cut my hand and you - you did something to me-"

"This, is your fault," he interrupted sharply, "if you hadn't touched the liquid, this wouldn't have happened. This is Hell, if you hadn't realised, human, it just hasn't happened yet."

"What…? The future?" If what he was saying was true, and she could hardly take his word for it, then what could have caused so much destruction? From the rotting billboard, barely legible, 'Industrie' was printed over a faded image of two half-naked models about to devour each other; the Coca-cola poster opposite the building was falling off its hinges, creaking as the breeze lightly swayed the metal sign. The signs all around her indicated a present day city. So what really happened?

He didn't answer her as he continued studying the surroundings. His indifference was beginning to get intolerable, she needed some response, something to fill the empty voids with the answers she was yearning for rather than vague interpretations of the reality of the issue.

The sound of rock grinding on rock resonated between the dishevelled buildings of the intersection. They swivelled their gaze to the source of the sound, watching as a demon climbed out of a window as if it were a spider, its eyes intently stalking them with beady eyes. Moving her hands to her hips, she realised her weapons were missing.

"It won't attack. We're not completely substantial in this world." he demonstrated with a wave of his hand through the nearby car hood. Her eyes widened as she swiped her hand down on the hood as well, passing straight through. Without a word, Vergil turned to leave.

"Wait!"

…

He honestly did not know why he felt compelled to converse with this woman; this wide-eyed girl who seemed denser than he previously thought. He saw her walking up, an innocent, confused expression as she walked, her diminutive figure a contrast to the wide street and tall broken down buildings.

He could sense her hesitancy and see her guarded eyes darting from one side of the street to the other, scanning for anything. Her skills seemed fairly refined, but not enough to survive a place like this, were it for real. He saw several of the demons lurking around the destroyed constructions, stalking her movements.

Something had drawn her to him and him to her, but he couldn't move, rooted to the spot, so he waited for her to catch up to him. Even then, the feeling only grew stronger and he couldn't stand it. It was a pulling sensation, drawing him to her but he maintained his hold and composure, wishing she would step further back. Distance, that's what he needed. He needed to get away from her suffocating presence before he decided to kill her prematurely and destroy his only chance.

After mustering the strength to turn away, she called out to him.

"Wait!" Dammit. Couldn't she just leave?

Turning around, Vergil stared down at her expectantly with cold frost set in his eyes.

"I'm not going to help you. I suggest you find your own way out." he said briskly and began to head off.

A pause as she studied his face. "Why are you doing this?" he heard her quiet voice over the blowing hot wind. Why was he doing what? If she was referring to leaving her by herself then that should have been obvious.

"Why are you helping him?" Daddy's little girl, afterall. It seemed she had the wrong end of it all.

"What makes you think I'm helping him, Mary?" he walked on, passing the ring of piled cars and into the melting swirl of orange and red as she looked on, watching his blue silhouette meld with the surroundings. He didn't bother to linger in her presence and he knew that she was bristling at the use of the name she detested.

She was left with nothing again. Nothing but cryptic questions to answer more questions.

…

She slowly awoke to the glowing fluoro blue flickering along the walls. Sitting up steadily, she glanced at her surroundings, her eyes focusing onto the pedestal set into the wall while she rubbed the back of her neck.

Twisting around to fully take in the expanse of the room, which wasn't very vast at all, her fingers grazed fabric and she looked down to find herself half leaning on Vergil's torso. Snapping his own eyes open, he moved in a blur from lying horizontally to standing up vertically in the blink of an eye. Left on the ground, she was still trying to focus her brain on the surrounding walls while he stared down at her figure.

"Get up." The confined room seemed to make his voice colder, more inclined to bite her head off. As soon as he spoke, he grasped her shirt at the front and dragged her upwards, pushing her against the wall and pinning her there.

"I didn't appreciate the treatment you were giving me before our little nap time, human, so if I were you, you'll do exactly as I say." his voice was definitely colder, laced with controlled spite. It was suffocating, his body pressed flush against hers, generating warmth between the two, but this wasn't tender or gentle; it was nothing like the embrace Dante had given her.

He leaned forward as she turned her head away, painfully aware of how close they were. Inhaling her feminine scent, feeling it send chills down his spine; he had spoke with a smirk on his lips but it didn't reach glacial eyes as they bored straight into hers. She felt uncomfortably bare at that second; his gaze seemed to strip away her defences with such speed, exposing her inadequacies, her insecurities to the surface.

What the hell are you thinking? They're both demons It was bad enough that they were both maddeningly frustrating and one was even psychotic, but to feel something invoked by a demon? She was definitely going insane if it was anything other than hatred.

Recalling what he said, he'd accentuated the 'human' like a stain on his pristine flowing garments. The contemptuous tone invoked a twinge of revulsion for this arrogant and insufferable demon. It was one thing to be derided by her own kind but she had to stamp her foot and draw the line at a demon such as this.

"Let…Go...Of…Me!" she ground out between gritted teeth; indignant anger was welling up inside, waiting to erupt and she clenched her fists, knowing her hands were shaking with a fine tremor of rage. Humiliation and shame for feeling even a hint of any kind of emotion towards the jerk earned a barrage of self criticism.

"Now, demon!" Jerking her head forward suddenly, her forehead connected with his chin, jolting him backwards only a fraction but it was all the space she needed to lever her legs forward and push away by kicking his chest with all the strength she could muster.

With reasonable distance between the two, Mary spun her body around, a roundhouse almost catching him at the jaw. Almost. The confined space was hard to work around and with the height difference, her execution was partly hindered, leaving her vulnerable as Vergil gripped her boot covered ankle and swung her forcefully around to the adjacent wall. Her head was spinning from the hard impact but she held her ground, swiping hard with her free foot towards the side of his face to him knock back slightly. Landing in a crouch to compensate her balance, she was immediately lifted by the shoulders and slammed into the wall, her nose almost breaking if it weren't for her hands bracing against wall.

The pain that throbbed as her temple hit the stone was overwhelming, a small gasp escaping her lips. Eyes closed, she tried to regain her breath as he leaned over her ear and maintained the steely grip on her shoulders.

"I don't think you really know who you're dealing with."

And with that, he turned away, melting through the liquid wall.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? She knew what he was, a sadistic demon that needed to get his ass kicked, that's what. Snapping her eyes open, she reached behind her back for her Desert Eagle, thinking why she didn't just pull one on him earlier, only to find nothing but air. He must have taken them off! Her most prized weapon! Where would he have put it? If there was nothing else, she'd have her valuable bazooka with her but even that was gone! Why hadn't she notice this earlier?

Growling in fury, she clenched her fists; her wrist was stinging still, beginning to itch from the cut as the blood swelling at the wound slowly began to clot. She'd make him pay!

Taking a run up, she leaped through the wall, closing her eyes and holding her breath.

It felt incredibly awkward, like she was leaping into water or something. Her ears were filled with the liquid substance and she could hear the gurgling of bubbles, realising it was bubbles of her own breath being let out in bursts. Opening her eyes slightly, it was clear blue, submerged in a floating serenity of swirling mists. As soon as she fully opened her eyes, she was jerked forward and through the other side, gravity pulling her back down and straight onto the hard floor.

…

"…wake up sleepin' beauty!"

"Mmrrm…" Turning his head to the side, Dante wished the masculine voice away.

"Hey, come on, man!"

Still eyes closed, an unbearably strong, acrid odour wafted to his sensitive nostrils, flaring then constricting at the sudden insult to his senses. His eyes snapped open wide and he sat up immediately, narrowly head butting the figure leaning over him.

"Whoa! Calm down…" The man said, who tossed what had to be smelling salts to his companion who pocketed the small container. Dante took the second to take in the two newcomers. The guy had brown, spiky hair, compact build and a wide infectious smile that softened intense emerald green eyes - maybe 24 - 25 years old? The chick was a pretty sight, on the other hand. Slight, petite figure, but those silent grey eyes and the two daggers at her hips told him she was no pushover. From the look of them, it was the two mercs that did a runner with the giant kitty-cat.

Getting to his feet in a fluid get up, he passed his gaze over the two once more. They seemed to be relaxed, not at all concerned with his presence or the fact that he was covered in his own drying blood. He slackened the tension in his muscles a fraction, slipping on a lopsided smirk as he focused on the girl, but inside he was wary of any sudden movements and sounds.

"Who's the pretty lady and how much is it gonna cost me?" he appreciated her lethal scowl aimed directly for him with a nod.

The guy had an equally lethal glare that flickered in his eyes, but it faded to amusement as a smile was spreading across his features.

"My sister and you remember that. Montoya." he introduced himself with a nod and a chuckle.

"That's Selest." a small jerk of the head towards the shorter sibling. The scowl turned in a dark glower as she maintained her silence, not in the least amused by the comments or the way her brash brother was freely giving their names.

"Pleasure to meet and greet." Dante said with the raise of an eyebrow as he kept his eyes on the determinedly silent new pretty girl.

Girl…Vergil…the fight...gone. She was gone. As in she could be lying injured somewhere in this crappy pile of rocks. Could be dead at the hands of his brother.

Confusion and uncertainty blossomed as he recounted the events of his dream wave. He distinctly remembered being on a hill, with the warmth of her body radiating into his skin, the comfort that he had felt…and now she was gone. He was feeling as though the world was about to collapse right at that moment. Something about that girl, some sort of connection was sparked during that moment. Something that made him want to protect her innocence, shield her from the raw emotions that were so real - so human. It was the fear and unease that had scarred her soul, the torrent of emotions that wildly ran amuck within, that made him want to smooth it away.

All he wanted at that moment was to go back, when all that existed was that blanket of security, enveloped into that embrace.

Keeping his voice steady, he didn't want to let on that his insides were swirling in a mass of colours as a result of some domineering instinct. Staring at the newcomers with glacial eyes, he spoke evenly, "Where'd the girl go?"

…

Suspicion fell on her face as she regarded the new stranger. She could tell that her brother was thinking the same things even if he smoothly covered it over with a mask of amusement.

Could he be trusted? What was he in relation to her?

Certainly Mary wasn't in the habit of making friends with guys like this. They were witness to his abilities though previously and while, yes, he was outstandingly efficient, even towards the point where she could admit that he was really good. But he seemed too good. Too unnaturally fluid, too inhuman. His silvery mop of hair screamed unusual for goodness sake! His unique features had set him apart from the very start when their eyes fell upon him. The speed at which he moved, the paranormal abilities to instantly heal and unique strength; he was most definitely not human. And the face. He was definitely one of them. Best to be safe than sorry.

We're not too natural ourselves, sweetpea. A cool voice cut into her thoughts with a drawl. She hated when Montoya would speak into her mind. It felt slimy and invasive, but it was the secret to their success. Being able to speak over distance had its advantages in terms of efficient mission execution.

Disregarding his comment, she finally spoke up, "We were thinking you would know. What happened?"

The stranger looked off to a wall, seemingly lost in thought. He snapped his eyes back up at them.

"They're going up. Up the tower." the guy answered, not really to her question but more as a realisation dawned on him.

But the realisation was lost on her and her brother. "Who's 'they'?" Montoya asked, not satisfied with the vague answer.

"Vergil. Somehow he needs her." Shaking his head, he kept his steely gaze on Montoya for a second longer before he looked back to the distant wall, obviously preoccupied with his train of thought. Then he simply turned away and walked to the entrance of the courtyard, swooping down to hoist the bloodied sword onto his back.

Vergil. The other one then. This one has to be Dante. Montoya confirmed her suspicions, but there was a wariness intertwined with his voice, one that she understood.

If she was fighting alongside him before, then she would have been able to trust him, however minutely. We will have to trust what he says for now, she conveyed to Montoya.

They were definitely going to have to keep an eye on him.

AN: No, I wasn't abducted by aliens, just really unmotivated to update...for a really…really long time. O.o

Thanks to the reviewers for taking the time to give me feedback, and thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed.

Bettany – That's right, I'm the boss! ;D Hmmm...I don't like writing action very much but I try my best to make it sound more believable – I know that paragraphs of plain action or thoughts are boring though, hence why I chopped it to bits and pieces. Glad to hear that they don't suck that badly!

Tyrant Hamster - ..I've already replied to you!

sasha –Hopefully the romancing will happen within the next century! ;D Thanks for reviewing.

Laryna6 - Yup, a 'what if' sort of story as you already know. Hopefully I'll be able to get more in depth into what Lady experienced beyond the game. Thanks for reading.;)

ChaosLegionFreak – Thanks for the praise and support! I'm really flattered!