Chapter 24 - Mission 11: Night Of Red And Blue

The stairs ended with the elegant archway opening up to the ballroom. Together, Dante and Vergil entered in the room side by side. And there, standing before them in the center of the room was Deumos. She wore nothing but a skin tight red dress, a slit in the hem coming up to her thigh, matched by the low cut that showed every inch of boob that was possible without making it into a porno. He cracked his neck as he walked in, straightening his coat. Vergil was motionless beside him, his face in the same, unreadable, but hard and cold glare.

"So good of you to join me this evening," Deumos purred from where she stood, her arms held up in a very, very sexually inviting gesture, "Dante and Vergil, sons of Sparda and Eva. At last I can finish that which started thirty years ago."

Dante smiled. And for once in a hundred times, it was not shared inside. The fuel of his sarcasm and light-heartedness snuffed out as soon as the vision of that night crept back into his head. The joking and cockiness went all away, leaving him as only himself. Maybe it was his own façade that he put up to hide his true self. Maybe he did it to feel safe. Maybe it had been like that since he had been the one to destroy the vessel that had been in the shape of his mother when Deumos had possessed Eva all those years ago.

For the first time since he had faced Mundus in his island castle, the smile faded and he felt the steady bite of his anger replacing the flow of sarcasm in him, fueling his power.

"Enough playing around, Deumos! It's time you answered for killing our mother!" Dante said in a seething voice, a stark contrast to his normal tone.

Deumos' eyebrows raised at his words.

"And you, Vergil?" she asked, turning to his brother and giving him a questioning stare.

Vergil's answer was much simpler than his own. Stepping back with his left foot, pivoting himself to be in perfect position to charge, he inched Yamato free of the scabbard with his thumb, his right hand hanging in the air, waiting. And he knew, through their blood connection, that Vergil's own mind was on that day again. The day of fire and death, when their mother's blood had been spilt.

"Then what do you say about facing your dear old friend, Trish?" Deumos asked coyly, disappearing just as a lone figure in black leap from behind them.

Vergil and Dante both spun away as the gunshots went off, bullets whizzing past their forms as they dodged to the side. His brother went to retaliate, his right hand already sliding Yamato free of its scabbard to slice her into pieces. Dante held out a hand, and somehow, from across the room, his twin noticed. Vergil eyed him grimly, only nodding. Deumos gave a triumphant laugh as she rose into the air, her body swiftly turning to mist and was absorbed by Trish's own body. She twisted in place for a moment, her feet hovering over the ground, shuddering with either great delight or great pain. Either way, when she was again on the floor, her feet firmly planted, she turned to face them. Red eyes and black pupils stared out at them from his friend's face. Dante's mouth became a thin line.

It was just like that day. Too much like it. And he refused to let it end the same way. Clenching his fist, he felt his vision sharpen, his sight taking on a red tint. His eyes were glowing. Deumos/Trish beckoned them forward with a finger, laughing all the while. The foreign gleam in her eyes flashed brighter for just a second as one of her pistols flew to her hand like a really good imitation of using the Force. Bullets started flying before either of them could say another word. It was with the same silence that the brothers bounced from location to location, appearing as little more than blurs in human vision, Vergil not even that. Dante drew Ivory from his coat as he went into a flip, the automatic gun falling right out of its holster and into his grip. His own bullets slammed into those coming right for him, sending white hot shell casings everywhere. It was then that Vergil leapt up behind him. As they met eyes, Dante smiled. And though he was only for split second, he knew his twin was also.

With his other hand, Dante pushed Vergil on by the bottoms of his boots, their coordination and timing perfectly synced. Before Deumos/Trish knew what was happening, Yamato had already slashed right through the black pistol in her hand, leaving behind a melting grip. With a frustrated yell, she tossed it aside, choosing instead to work with a more supernatural form of firepower; lightning.

Bolts of golden energy flew at them with blinding speed. Still, there was enough time for both of them to escape unscathed. Dante made a quick rebound off of the staircase, as he landed, Vergil ghosting into place at his back. Okay, time for round two! Replacing Ivory and drawing Rebellion from his back, both of them charged forward at the same time. Deumos/Trish shrieked, now pressed to keep her own attacks up as the twins closed on her without error. The first slice went right by her without so much as a whisper of wind, just enough to cut her cheek. The message behind it was enough to get the point across; get out. Maybe the demon knew they were only toying with her, putting her close enough to real danger in hopes of scaring her out of Trish's body. Either way, they both knew it was working. A single drop of sweat went down Deumos/Trish's face, her darkened eyes widening in momentary panic.

He hadn't even told Vergil his idea. His brother just knew. And as Yamato made another strike at their enemy, one that could have easily parted Deumos/Trish's torso from her legs and instead missed, there was no doubting it. Vergil understood. Trish was Dante's friend. And she also looked like their mother. Maybe it was his way of asking for forgiveness. And it was. And Vergil knew it too.

Damn. Vergil knows me too well.

"Come, come, sons of Sparda!" Deumos/Trish called out in a mock challenge, bent on keeping her confident façade up, "I thought you had more than this!"

"Don't get so cocky," Dante said as he whisked by, making a slash close enough just to tear a few strands of hair away.

"Do you really think we're even trying?" Vergil asked as he momentarily stopped.

His next movement was lost to time. Even Dante thought that his brother had forgotten that Trish's body wasn't to be harmed. It took his mind a second longer to realize that no blood was flowing through the air as his twin sheathed his sword again and simply stood as Deumos/Trish lay stunned in place. The clean cut on the opposite wall, dust raining from it like lifeblood as concrete and wood and metal were parted, was enough of a hint. That single attack was probably enough to call the nearest general contractor for remodeling. And though that wall was feet away from them, the cut lay merely a centimeter or less from the tip of Deumos/Trish's nose. It was a warning.

"Fools!" she cried, blasting lightning from her palms once more, "Don't think you can hold back against me!"

She charged. Dante and Vergil shared a look of mixed relief and criticizing disbelief. Finally. Just as her foot touched the ground before them, both of her hands raised for a final attack, a single blast that she felt sure would end their very existence, a triumphant look on her face…

Two auras of red and blue burst forth from the twins, demonic energy filling the room and every hallway and room thereafter, flooding the entire mansion and the grounds surrounding. Deumos/Trish rocked back from the pressure in the air, clenching her teeth as her feet struggled to stay on the floor and failed, sending her into the far wall with a thundering crash. Splits formed in the drywall behind her, as she groaned, the spiritual energies still pressing against her body, crushing the life from her. She was gasping for breath, the light in her eyes dimming. And just when they returned to normal…

It stopped. A stillness filled the mansion for a mile around. The whole world seemed to have lost sound. Deumos lay on her knees, in her own form as Trish fell to the floor, crumbling, heaving for air. But even from here, both of them could see she was herself again.

Deumos stared up at the two in fear.

"No…impossible!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, pointing at the two of them, "You can't have that much power! Not even Sparda…had that kind of strength! How…"

"It's no great mystery," Dante said in a darkened voice, strangely twisted as his gripped Rebellion with scaled hands, "Except to demons."

Vergil stood next to him, great plates of armor covering his body, his white slicked back. Nelo Angelo returns. Only this time, he held his own sword, along with another, a great sword with a glowing crystal at the pommel, a ring held inside it. Vaguely, he remembered the cane. But…hadn't it been broken earlier?

He didn't even get to ask.

"Helena," Vergil stated simply, nodding down to his second blade, "My lost wife."

Dante didn't even nod. So that's Nero's mother. Or rather, what was left of her. How weird that he had never asked about Vergil's wife. Maybe he never envisioned him with a woman.

Maybe he didn't want to. It was the equivalent of seeing his brother in a Playboy bunny outfit. It was….really, really, really disturbing. And wrong. Definitely that.

"You…you were holding back the entire time?" Deumos asked in a thin voice.

Neither of them answered. They didn't have to. That much was clear.

"We were," Dante admitted, shrugging as they both took their first, thundering steps forward, their demonic auras causing the room to shake, dust falling everywhere about them, "We were…"