Ok, so since you convinced me to do a little sequel, here we go:

They rescued Vesta, Dante found a charming deviless, they all got drunk and staggered back from hell to earth, and lived happily ever after…

- The End –

Well… That could have happened, but here is what actually happened: I give you, I Follow Hell, the short continuation to Hell Follows Me.

I follow hell...

How absurd. How completely and utterly absurd. How could anyone have thought in their wildest dreams that she would want to even set one foot in a place like this? That she would actually want to come here, not to mention proudly step up to be the head monster and lead a place of nothing but emptiness, filled with emotionless puppets, with no hope, no love, nothing…

Hadn't she tried to get away from all that was evil in her life, from all those pretentious bastards that hid their monstrosity under the veil of false grace and interest, and then imposed their audacities on her as if it was the best thing she could have ever wished for? And now, she was in their very world, and the sheer uniformity of evil seemed to have been making her nauseous as if it had left a pungent smell in the air…

Yes, how absurd, that her own father, her own blood and flesh, could have thought that she could even survive here, not to mention rule this uninspiring, dead world. Despite the presence of evil in the human world, was there even any diversity here? Vesta shivered from head to toe, nearly jumping out of her skin, as her movement caused the slightest noise. She inched her head forward a little, peering into the darkness. It was completely quiet, unnaturally quiet.

It only dawned on her now what she had done, and it made her draw her body into her own arms for vain attempt at comfort. Yes, how laughable, only she didn't feel like laughing. All that had so recently started to glitter in her life, was now gone. It was cold, so bitterly cold, how could that be in hell? Wasn't it supposed to burn? How long would she have to stay here? How long could one live in hell? Please tell me it is not forever?

Why had she done this? Did her sacrifice even have a purpose? Did he even see her now like she wanted? Had he become encompassed by the power that ruled this sad and desolate world and instantly forgotten that she had ever existed? Was she condemned for all eternity to meander in hiding in a place where nothing would try to notice or understand her, or even pause a fleeting moment to consider sparing her naïve, wishful life?

Vesta drew herself further into the shadows in sudden petrifaction, jerkily backing away from the prowling party of demons that her wide eyes spotted snooping around. They had their heads lowered, beady eyes focused on catching a shadow of a movement, hollow nostrils taking in air that could carry even the smallest scent of her cold-sweat covered skin…or even her own blood that still soaked her clothes.

She didn't dare to breathe. Would they notice she was there, hiding in the shadows? Like a leaf on an autumn tree; hanging by the last thread, shaking, but afraid to let go, to plunge so far below… Would he leave her here like a mere withering leaf on a very thin branch? Would he even know, it was her who had jumped into the 'dark lake' for him this time…

She hadn't known how it would all happen, or where she would end up. All she had known was that she had wished to do for him what he had done for her in that terrible lake. Vergil had rescued her and returned her to life, while he himself had remained trapped in the hostile waters to die. Now, she had done the same in return; she had rescued him and brought his life to him, in exchange for remaining trapped in this hostile land; a land of her worst nightmares…

Could he have not noticed that? Should she have rather died right next to him, in the knowledge that there was a slight chance that he loved her despite her shortcomings and dishonourable way of life? Would it not have been better than dying all alone, in this empty, endless darkness, but with the slight possibility that he had seen something more in her than a mere pitiful case?

No…

Vesta clutched the dagger in her shaking hands, she would have thought she shouldn't be afraid. Back in the human world, she had plunged herself fearlessly, or was it recklessly, into an adventure that she had never imagined would end up this way. She had battled the beasts of anyone's nightmares with a wooden bocken, with mere hands in needed be, like a warrior unafraid of anything; but it was all in the shadow of his strong, mystifying presence…

Like an angel made out of pure marble, commanding, soul defining, one deep undeserving gaze changing her from inside out. She had been like an eager schoolgirl that wanted to change her inadequate ways to find her image reflected back in those deep blue eyes. And she did… He had been her saviour and at the same time, her destructor. He had been strong and unwavering, even in the face of death…

…and she couldn't be. As now, when he was so far away…was it why she felt so scared and powerless? How ironic, that now when she had been given all this strange power…she was feeling at her lowest? But what use was her power when she didn't know how to use it? The only gift that she could clearly see was her night vision, something that had only provided her with a view of what kind of a big trouble she really got herself into!

Despite the murky darkness, she could so clearly follow the silhouettes of monsters far more terrifying than those creatures that had killed Vengeance and had brought even Vergil to his knees. Despite the pitch black, she could see clearly the desolation and hostility of this land, or deformity even, as she watched the beasts saunter in frozen, monotonous movements, some distance down, through a narrow gap of some sort of upside down stalactites, with round platforms on top, on one of which she crouched in fear. Despite the dark colours swallowing her clothes, she could clearly see the bloody stains soaked into the fabric. Staines caused by her own blood that had gushed out when her own brother had skewered her with his own sword… How good was her power, if it only provided her with terror she had not known before?

Clenching her healed chest absentmindedly, Vesta looked down, the gray slabs of stone below seeming so cold and hard, yet trodden with countless demons' claws as if they all had carved their path for thousands of years, like fossilized ghosts. Was that going to be her fate, to end up a lifeless drone like all the others here and would her unlikely human-looking imprint be seen on one dusty path for someone else to ponder about thousands of years from now? She shuddered.

She had to get out of here, or at least try even if it was to be her death. If there was a way in, there had to be one out. If only she could stop shaking, and stop being so afraid, and had the strength to move on. But how was she even going to get down? Perched high atop a cluster of tall pinnacles, so far from the ground below it seemed. Only a day ago, she hadn't even found the courage to jump out of the window of Vergil's mansion when it had been swallowed by the flames from her brother. How could she jump down now, when she didn't have the comfort of Vergil's presence to guide her on…?

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"Jump down already, you clunky lumberjack!" The grumpily baritone voice swept all the remaining dust from the narrow, whirring dirt-hole.

"Clunky? Lumberjack?" came back a stupefied response.

"Well, are not lumberjacks clunky?" Vergil raised an eyebrow in an elegantly calm way, contradicting his earlier short out-patience which he managed to contain by a hidden grind of his teeth.

"And who says I am a lumberjack?" Dante protested from below.

"You do carry a grotesquely oversized sword on you, do you not? One that outweighs you by more than ten times your body fat and hence, is now pulling us both down, is it not?"

"Hey, if you are going to complain, do me a favour and remember one thing, well two actually; one - we would be just fine if you didn't carry with you a flimsy toothpick of a knife, and two - whose idea was this again?" Dante presented to Vergil who in return pretended to consider Dante's point with an elongated face and a pondering look.

They had decided to head straight for a portal that hadn't been the best choice for reasons to be seen later, but since it had been the closest one, it simply had to do. Vergil had descended that fateful mountain to mount his horse in haste, while Dante had resorted to flying as he didn't trust Mercy since that day she had tried to bite his ass with a grin wider than his own. He had never seen anything grin more than he could muster and that truly scared the pants of him more than anything else. That horse couldn't have been human! Or was it equine? Well, so instead he had steered well clear of Vergil's nasty beast, and had provided his own transport.

If only that blasted horse hadn't arrived there first and hence provided Vergil with the winner's opportunity to get to open the portal before Dante had the chance to talk him through a few little rules. Well, Vergil had always been the one with the means to open portals, at least once again now, since he had recovered the real Yamato, but still, he shouldn't have been plunging headlong into any dark holes and such. That was Dante's job after all, no, it was his birthright!

Now, by some lingering subconscious distrust when a portal and Vergil was in the same equation, at the same time that was, Dante had found it therefore prudent to leap in first, without having that chat first and therefore not really finding anything potentially significant about the barely used portal. That was when Vergil had had to jump right after his hasty brother and only hope that Dante would do what Vergil predicted Dante would do.

Fortunately the prediction hit the mark when Vergil had felt Dante's desperately grabbing hand grip his leg, as his younger brother had spotted the deep dark oblivion gaping right under him just as he came out of the dusty cloud set off from the cobweb covered portal. Upon realising his repeated mistake, by a scary survival instinct, Dante swept for anything he could secure a hold on and it happened to be Vergil's silken trousers, conveniently available right above him.

Only Vergil quickly forgot the saving Dante part, and rapidly began to enter the irritated part, since his dear heavy brother was now dangling from his trousers, doing nothing to get off of him. Vergil had no problem holding onto Yamato's hilt, the rest of the sword embedded deeply into the portal's fortunately still solid walls, but he did have a big problem with Dante hanging on as if waiting for the thin yet strong piece of clothing to give way and slide down at any moment.

"Please, spare me from using you inability to stop and think before leaping into just about any dark hole as an excuse to insult my weapon. One – this, 'toothpick' as you so inadeptly put it, is keeping you alive right now, and two - no one forced you to either come, nor jump in first without thinking." Vergil enlightened Dante in an annoyingly I-have-an-answer-for-everything way, with only a hint of miffed 'whatever' dancing across his otherwise stony face, as he didn't appreciate Yamato being called a toothpick, of course omitting calling Dante's sword grotesquely oversized; because it was, in his not so humble opinion.

"Well you've been there, she's just gone there, I might as well join the club. And I thought, as a gesture of good will, I would check the coast first, you know…try before you die?" Dante shrugged, tugging Vergil's trousers down a notch in the process.

Not buying Dante's excuse for a second, Vergil frowned and stared impassively into his brother's not so convincing eyes. "If you didn't trust me, you could have simply told me. And then, I would have explained to you very politely, that I would not want your help unless you would overcome your encrusted prejudice held in your suspicious mind."

"Wha-? Well you know bro, I can't just easily switch off the past, or strangely enough, ignore what you have made me grow up with, and that was to trust no one. I can't help but doubt even myself sometimes, thanks to you, so if you don't want my sometimes distrusting hand, I will climb right back up, up your trousers…," he made a move, his biceps hardening as he started to pull himself up.

"Don't be a fool. Did I not make it clear that you can lend your hand?" Vergil interposed hastily, his stare so heavy it could have pushed Dante off in seconds.

"Yeah, that is why I am making sure, you know, since you don't normally change your mind," Dante straightened his arms again, lowering himself back down, a small triumphant smile dancing on his wide lips and reflecting in his eyes.

"And I do not offer lightly either, so do me a favour, and jump over there on that ledge already!" Uncomfortably discontented, Vergil nudged with his chin to a place obscured by a deep fog, where nothing could be seen.

"I see no ledge there," Dante returned his gaze to Vergil doubtingly, after probing the said place with his eagle sight. "You are not trying to get rid of me, are you?"

"I never taught you to distrust me, did I?" Vergil's eyebrow shot up high, questioning Dante's hesitance. He quickly continued though, not wanting to hear an answer he set himself up for. "Besides, if I wanted you dead, would I not have simply let you plunge into the hole the first time around? It would have been far simpler, do you not agree?" His second eyebrow joined the first, both hovering high up on his forehead expectantly. No answer met his challenge but a deep, pensive look from below, thankfully. "Yes, I thought so, in that case, get your derriere moving, and I will swing you over."

"Hey, hey, if you see something I don't, why don't I swing you over while you hang down from my trousers!" Dante fired off one last protest, the prospect of falling off from Vergil's reach into a deep oblivion of hell somehow clouding his normally fearless mind. This really was one of the times, when he wished, he had been born without a conscience as his memories had brought it excruciatingly to the surface way too often…

Vergil allowed his eyes to roll royally at Dante's inexplicable unease. Was Dante not the one without any inhibitions whatsoever, at least when it came to recklessness? "Because, then I would have to leave you dangling from the portal, which will soon vanish and hence would send you plunging down that very deep dark hole, and then, what use would you be to me dead?" Vergil would have raised a third eyebrow, if he had one.

"Leave me dangling? And how do you plan on getting to the ledge yourself, after swinging me over? You saying you can jump further than I can? And I still doubt that ledge is even there!" Dante insisted, holding on, not realising they have been slightly inching down all this time, Vergil's katana now nearing the end of the funnel of the swirling vortex.

"No. I cannot jump further, but I can do something even better," Vergil's pale lip curled up ever so slightly in devilish delight before reforming into a stern unreadable line. He stole a glance at his blade, feeling the wall of the portal thinning around the strong, folded steel of his sword.

"Oh and what is that…ballet dance on air?" Dante joked, trying to clear his mind from the invading images of Vergil falling deep down from his outstretched hand…

"Teleport! I will teleport over, now jump already!" Vergil said curtly, already starting to swing his leg, whether Dante liked it or not, as he felt the sword slip out from the slackening walls.

"Oh, sure, then why didn't you just saaaaay…," Dante was flung high in the air in a perfect arch, whizzing right through the patchy fog that turned out to be no fog at all.

"…so-aw," he landed against something hard, his hand slipping from a surface covered in fine sand that didn't provide any grip at all. At the same time, Vergil's hand slipped off the portal together with Yamato, and he flickered away just before the vortex vanished completely, reassembling himself right above Dante with a readymade outstretched hand.

"Because I needed you to start trusting me, without questioning my every single move," Vergil secured a vice lock on Dante's wrist and with one smooth movement pulled him up onto the top of the cliff.

"Well, sorry. I guess I am just going to have to start from the beginning again then," Dante brushed off the specs of sand from his hands and lightly patted Vergil on his triceps, brushing past him to get away from the sheer drop that still managed to send cold shivers down his spine.

"Fine with me," Vergil affirmed with feigned indifference, not letting his hurt pride come to the surface. He did not need Dante's doubts right now, he needed his undying support and confidence the most. Now that they have arrived, this place made him troubled inside, as he knew nothing good would come to any of them if they overstayed their unwelcome.

"Right then, so where are we headed?" Dante stopped with his knuckles on his hips, looking out to the vast desert before him, watching the occasional gusts of wind whisk an endless supply of dust and sand into the warm but dry, hard to breathe air.

"I would guess the girl would have been most likely taken to the place where Yamato has been sealed away, since she was traded for its return to me," Vergil said, his voice emotionless despite the increasing discomfort he started to feel against his burning heart. As if coming back to this forbidding wasteland wasn't enough, on top of Dante's hesitance, he had to start doubting himself again. Or could it have been something else?

"Oh great, well apart from not even wanting to find out how you came to that conclusion, sounds like a good plan. So, where was your sword then?" Dante rubbed his hands together, looking around for a suitable direction.

"I have not a clue," came a stoic, even answer from behind him, causing Dante to whip round on his heel.

"You are kidding me right?" Dante gave his brother a wry look. Vergil was so full of usefulness sometimes, it still managed to surprise him.

"Although I seem to possess a sense of humour from our mother's side, I am yet to kid anyone," Vergil's face retained its stony tension as he spoke, eyes slightly narrowed as he searched the plains of sand for any kind of a familiar landmark.

"So, what is the plan then? Ask the first demon we kill?" Dante's corners of his lips turned upwards, as he let Rebellion's hilt dance in the palm of his hand. Hell really wasn't that bad, if it was just heaps of sand and a few dust devils dancing around?

"Wherever we go, I suggest we exercise stealth," Vergil's darkly delivered caution quickly removed Dante's enthusiastic smirk from his face. "We do not want to draw an unnecessary attention to the fact that both of us have had the insensible and outrageous idea of venturing back to the netherworld, since I am still technically on the most wanted list."

"Oh please, please tell me there is at least a nice reward? A strawberry sundae, an olive-less pizza, extra stringy cheese, although I could easily settle for a simple signpost…"

Vergil's deathly glare caused Dante to put up his hands defensively as he hurried to extinguish the threatening ice-age. "Kidding, just kidding!" he protested.

"As I said, I am yet to come across any practical use for this kind of humour. But I may yet surprise myself," Vergil said with slight contempt, finishing tentatively as he couldn't bring himself to ignore his receding unease. Did he just feel the practical use for 'kidding'? A dissolver of tension?

"You are a lot more tolerant these hours," Dante established, rubbing his chin with suspicion. "You are surprising me in some very strange ways," he concluded, setting his forehead into a disbelieving scowl.

"I am simply opening my mind to the remotest possibility that my ways may not always be the best. Something… inside me…has been telling me that life filled with single-mindedness and fears of venturing past its thresholds, is not worth living…," Vergil admitted, trailing off in thoughts as he stared at the empty desert.

"Yeah…right. That makes…perfect sense. How about, whilst you sort out your thresholds in there," Dante pointed his finger to Vergil's head, "I will just choose where we are going to go…in complete stealth of course…," Dante swapped weight from one hip to another, deciding where to go.

"We must go that way," Vergil interrupted, his gaze set hard on a spot filled with nothing but a heavy cloud of swirling grains of sand. His thumb flipped out Yamato in the said direction as if the sword had told him where to go.

"No, I think we should head this way, there is less sand in the way," Dante contradicted, turning his head in the opposite direction just for the sake of it, though it was not hard to see that there was just as much sand as anywhere else.

"Think what you want, but this is the correct way," Vergil insisted, yet hesitant to actually set off, neither of them having any idea as to where to go and not wanting to set off in the wrong direction.

"Yeah, that's really open minded," Dante hid his own hesitation under his reprimanding observation, snapping his head back to his brother.

Vergil gave him the look in return. "I never said I would open my mind to everything," he drawled in a cool, slightly satirical tone, turning fully to Dante while his eyes slipped past his younger brother to narrow over his shoulder. "However, we may have just found our signpost," he added quietly, his voice dipping low and frosty.

Sensing the rapid change in temperature around Vergil, Dante whisked his head behind him, his sharpening eyes taking in the silent procession of hunched figures that began to emerge from the sandy clouds.

"I believe we have been spotted," came stolidly from behind Dante, along with a slight shift of his brother's boots in the sand, which Dante knew was Vergil taking an inconspicuous battle stance. They were spotted all right, a big time!

"Now, that's what I call kidding! I mean, are you frigging kidding me?" Dante hissed quietly at Vergil, reaching behind for the hilt of his gun as he spun his body to face the same direction as his head.

"Open minded, remember?" Vergil responded in a low dip of his voice, ice-burning eyes never leaving the convoy of the sworn keepers, the relentless seekers of all that did not bow at the power of evil, administrators of hell's bad will and most of all, pursuers of all that would feed the greed and corruption of this barren land. They would stop at nothing to return chaos to order, to reinstate injustice and cruelty to any sign of a good will, to recapture those who dared to escape the depravity of the ways the demon world represented.

They had been the ones who had brought the hunter demon upon him at his mansion, the silent and deadly hunter beast that usually followed once the seekers had sought out its normally doomed prey. The last thing they needed right now…

"Halt trespassers! State your designation," a seven feet tall, dark hooded figure at the front of the convoy made a hollow sound, its black hole for a face gliding downward to peer at the two strangers before it. Its skeletal hands were clasped lightly in front of its worn out black robes as if praying yet nothing but silence fell around them like a heavy golden cage. A few drifts of sand slid down its rough tattered cloth at a short blast of wind, the rest of the unholy army coming to a halt in a surrounding formation around its leader and the two brothers.

"Umm…we are…the brothers…," Dante took it upon himself to start answering hesitantly, as Vergil only kept oozing his arctic aura, remaining completely silent, somewhat tensely unperturbed. He sensed something was very wrong, not just with Vergil but also with those stoic, silence shrouded demons. He didn't need Vergil to tell him that it would be quite rude, and dangerous, if they didn't say anything, but strangely found himself cautious as to what to say, for once…

"…the brothers Grimm…," a deep, sure voice intervened, causing Dante to raise an eyebrow, a tad higher with every word that came out of Vergil's grimly set mouth, "…and we have come to tell the great tales of a mystical world of even greater lustings and misfortunes. You will find our offerings worthy for we are no strangers to the ways of your land."

The lead demon tapped the long bones of its fingers together, the clinking sound filling the tension that was building up inside Vergil's tightening stomach. If they fell into a battle now…he didn't want to think of the consequences…for her, for his brother, for his own damned old soul that was in such a desperate need for a repair. The only thought that filled his mind at that very moment was of her and her selfless naivety… They mustn't fight until they found her, or else…Vesta would be lost to him forever…and he would fall dead inside once again. Unexpectedly to him, Vergil shivered coldly at the thought of that outcome. No solace in solitude anymore, bitterness a companion to desolation, emptiness his worst enemy instead of hell…

The clinking stopped and Vergil's mind snapped back out of the black void of his grim thoughts to the equally black void of the face before him. The demon glided a little closer, the hem of its dust draped robes rustling in the rough-grained sand.

"We do find you somewhat familiar," the hollow voice drawled, as the hooded face leaned forth to inspect the peculiar individual in front of it, a stench of molten brimstone wafting unpleasantly into Vergil's nose. The dark slayer managed to refrain from recoiling, allowing the creature to take in his rather unique demonic scent, as anything else would rouse too much suspicion. To his inward relief, the seeker failed to recognise his identity, instead leaning back calmly, satisfied with Vergil's lack of alarm.

"What are your names and what is this rich mystical world that you speak of?" the demon asked coolly, hiding its inbred greed driven curiosity under its equally inbred haughty demeanour. The seekers were creatures spawned by the wretched land itself, from its need to constantly feed on the sins of the damned, the soulless demons feeling its hunger like their own famine; hell's perpetual calling sustaining their dull existence, causing their duty to remain endlessly self-driven, the underworld's own satiation their most intoxicating reward. They would never stop, never rest, they were illusive and connected to hell itself like a hive of bees to its queen.

One wrong move, one hesitation, one doubt or a hint of fear, and Vergil knew, it was guaranteed the whole hell would be upon them before they could sneeze out all the sand from their nostrils…

"I am Jacob, and this here is Wilhelm, we have just returned from a new mysterious and diverse world called Europe and, as usual, we seek only one small favour in return for all the rich pickings held within this highly sinful realm," Vergil said in a business like tone, not a sliver of eagerness or hesitation soiling his magnetic, monotonous voice.

"We have not heard of a realm called Europe," the shrouded skeleton posed like an equal statue to Vergil, its bony knuckles snapping as it ground them absently together.

Dante brought his finger up to hold his lower lip from trembling, stopping himself from laughing out loud. The ice-like sculpture Vergil set himself into didn't help the situation one bit, making Dante vibrate from inside out. Too bad that he sensed from Vergil any kind of mockery would not do any of them any good with these one-way-street farts. They wouldn't know humour if Vergil carved it into their unoccupied foreheads with Yamato as the eleventh commandment and then froze it for eternity as a souvenir.

"Pardon my presumption, but that is exactly why we are here. Your kingdom will be enriched and replenished far beyond your expectations," Vergil assured the seekers, adding a pinch more assertiveness into his voice.

"Yeah, they sin in ways you never ever even heard of pal," Dante could not help but contribute to Vergil's curious play, reverting back to holding his lip upon Vergil's warning side-glanced glare.

"Do you wish to refuse us and explain to your superiors why your land's reserves have not been maintained this season as expected, right under your command?" the older twin hissed roundly, hoping this should have the right effect of finally getting somewhere.

Letting the tension filled silence pass through its unmoving bony fingers, the air finally moved out of its gaping hole for a mouth together with a close train of elated sounds, "what is this favour you seek?"

Vergil nodded inwardly, so far so good. Now they just had to somehow get where they needed… "Certain tales were told of a forgotten demonic seal, one that guarded the devil-arm called the Yamato. Do you know of it," he asked cautiously yet more so casually, not wanting to bring forth any suspicions.

"Your wish is most peculiar…," the robed darkness replied in thought, measuring Vergil with what could be described as an increased curiosity or interest, somewhat tensing in its ghostly pose. Vergil's stomach tied into a solid knot, his abs working hard to subdue the flood of dread that threatened to consume and thrill him. He noted with growing knowledge that he had rarely felt this significantly about anything before.

The beast of hell relaxed after a short pause, continuing with a barely noticeable note of shame and dishonour, "…yet to our regret, the said arm has been stolen from its imprisonment, by none other than the one who is to be ascended to the throne of our mighty kingdom."

At this, Vergil's eyebrow shot up in an anxious surprise. Fending off the lack of blood that suddenly flowed from his heart, he instantly reorganized his face back into cold indifference, teeth finding something to viciously grind against. In his blind focus to simply locate Vesta, he had completely forgotten about the close connection between the realm of the demon spirit and hell. When Vesta had opened her heart to the ancient sorceress, her sacrifice would have been advertised to the living core of the Demonworld, hence all the seekers would have been alerted and sent to find her. And these ancients would want to claim her as the rightful heir…despite the futile efforts of the current ruler to eliminate her as an unwanted rival. She would have been chained to the throne if need be, to restore the broken tradition that started to bring unbalance to this highly and harshly hierarchical world…

"Then…this ascendant is in the possession of the ancient sword?" Vergil shifted his weight to shake off the increasing apprehension out of his voice. He felt a small drop of sweat form on his temple, knowing it wasn't from the warmth in the surrounding atmosphere.

"We do not know. We are yet to capture the one who is to be ascended as their presence has been masked by some unknown, mysterious power. We do know however that the one is still hiding in the former vicinity of this…insignificant power you speak of…"

"Insignifi-can't…," Dante coughed out into his hand, his eyes turning red from suppressing the tears of hilarity that were unwillingly pushing so hard to get out, one eye dancing to stare at Vergil from behind his spread out hand. They couldn't find her, blaming it on some unknown power! Who were they fooling? In his own way to try and cut out the tension of uncertainty mixed with ridiculousness from his own guts, he watched with satisfaction as Vergil nearly imprinted his fingers into Yamato's saya by his ever so hardening grip. Dante knew how his brother was itching to show them just how insignificant his power was, and lunge at the clueless airheads.

"Then, you will take us there. To see for ourselves…," Vergil's tone was indisputable as he absently crushed Yamato's hilt into his whitening skin.

"You will follow us," the demon uttered, turning to glide away in the direction Vergil had originally insisted on going. The convoy followed wordlessly, paying no further attention to the Sparda twins who shifted closer to each other out of the seekers' view.

"Bro, I never knew you could be so full of bullshit," Dante whispered to Vergil as he leaned to him, his eye gleaming with a sense of pride.

"You must be mistaken, I am not full of anything, I have not eaten since yesterday," Vergil replied in a dipped voice with an innocently lifted eyebrow, a ghost of a tentative smile tugging at his pale thin lips.

"So we are good to go?" Dante rubbed his hands enthusiastically, ready to plunge headlong into yet another life threatening adventure.

"Yes, good…for now…," Vergil uttered in grumble, casting one more glance around the empty desert before letting his boots crunch the sand in the fresh footsteps of the seekers' convoy.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

God, I am so hungry, Vesta put her hand against her stomach as a violent growl tore through her empty organ. She looked up to the pitch black starless sky, one that reminded her she was not in the human world anymore, before using her hand to search through her rucksack. It was empty. Her hand retracted from her bag shakily, before resuming stroking her equally empty stomach.

She knew she had to leave, right now, before her own hunger would betray her already precarious hideaway, before they would find her. She had to get out of this place, as far as possible, and find a way out, possibly moving under the cover of darkness. Or was this a bad idea?

Vesta shifted her shaking arm slightly, enough to lean out of the rocks to scan the dark stone path below. It was empty. Everything just seemed empty in this darn place. Well at least she could make her move while no one was in sight. Slowly, stiffly, she made her muscles move on the surface of the pinnacle, and closing her eyes she readied for the jump down below…


So, Vergil is discovering his long discarded humanity, but will it help him to rescue the woman that helped him find it? Leave a note to find out!

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