A special thanks to Tora-Katana who actively helped me put this in some semblance of order and sense. I hope I did her proud because after all that massive amount of writing to sift through, I ended up cutting too much and the poor thing had to then tell me where things were a bit unclear in a too short IMO chapter. *laugh* Honestly, given the circumstances, I'm not sure what to say about this chapter. I know I liked it, but you can never tell about someone else. Please let me know how I did. Thanks so much for your patience and understanding! I greatly appreciate it.
Somebody Help Me Breathe
Broadsided by Marcus' viperous spite, Nero couldn't stop his stumble into what he was certain was a tumultuous milling blackout, only to find himself straining to see through a muted, stifling whiteout. Within the limitless black holding the utterly silent, blinding white, he vaguely thought maybe he wasn't really in a soundless blizzard but a visible, static noise masking the darkness.
Immersed in this starkly hollow page made of self-doubt, he could faintly make out remembered phrases transformed into electric silvery eels undulating as they circled hungrily directly beneath him. Teeth whetted to a sharp point, they watched and waited with empty lifeless eyes to eat him alive.
Unable to ignore quick flips swimming in inky waters, Nero desperately wanted to shut out the insidious bone chilling hissing: YOU were the backup plan... Unfortunately, you did not anticipate another descendant of Sparda, and because of this boy, you have been outwitted... Kyrie, I have failed to save you...Some nobody off the streets... Credo needed you to be on the safe side... You turned your back on your comrades... You ruined everything - EVERYTHING... Selfish bastard... and worst of all ...Back stabbing traitor who betrayed your oath... echoing on and on.
Fighting to shake off the insecurity balancing him on a razor's edge, he honed in on Marcus' sullied uniform until it encompassed and became his sole vision. Absently thinking it should be pristine and pressed, he thought this sight must be the reason for the deafening muteness where he stood completely alone. Needing to stay lucid in the here and now, he forced his eyes to move - landing on the Order's red insignia.
Once a bold statement he was a Knight honor bound to protect life, he felt sickened by the thought it was actually sewn with threads made from streams of fresh blood robbed from the innocent dead. And Nero had shed his own blood for the privilege of wearing that badge - risking his life willingly to protect the defenseless and decimate encroaching, infesting evil. He hadn't betrayed his oath. This was one thing at least he could be certain of and take solace in.
He reminded himself he had stayed true (and still did) to the real, original purpose of the elite force he had been proud to serve. Still, no matter how much blood he gave, he was always asked to give more. If Dante had known what Nero was thinking, he could have told him this came with the territory.
Most people he saved who fervently thanked him, saying they were in his debt, had short memories and would quickly go from gratitude to expecting him to bleed for them. No, it wasn't fair, but that was human nature and as far as he knew, it wasn't going to change - or hadn't yet in his experience.
But Dante couldn't have helped Nero falling from walking straighter in doing his duty in a military force to the bitter taste of betrayal left behind after his leaders turned on him. From the moment he learned of the Order of the Sword he'd thought he had found somewhere he belonged. Hell, he seemed made for the job.
Living with Credo had only strengthened his belief and he vividly saw himself jubilant his uniform fit to a "T" as he eagerly dressed himself - announcing he was part of a band marching to the beat of a higher drummer.
Was this where he had been headed all along... by his choice or by the nose?
Credo had encouraged and praised him in his single-minded determination to become a Knight under his command. Out of anyone, Credo knew his capabilities. As a cadet, Nero had soared up the ranks while chomping at the bit in actively destroying demons. He was soon disappointed to discover even in the Order he had to hide his true abilities.
As his mother had drilled into him, Nero made sure to hold back unless he was alone - then he went for broke. Although he was careful to rein himself in, the others had noticed his enhanced skills, which surpassed theirs.
With an irony he couldn't push aside, he recalled Credo cementing his loyalty by how he handled the complaints or questions. Decisively, he had firmly brought his comrades at arms' attention to the fact Nero's mother had been a woman of power, and luckily for the Order, he evidently had gained his particular talents from her on a physical versus a magical level. This explanation had done the deed in getting the other Knights to relax around him.
When anyone got snarky or envious of his rapid rise to undercover and solo work, Nero used the What're you looking at? glare he had perfected since childhood - indicating they better put up or shut up. He recalled how well his scowling challenge had worked. Now he wished he hadn't been quite so good at pushing his fellow Knights away.
In keeping them at a comfortable distance, he had been left ignorant and out of the loop. If he had accepted friendships, rather than simply staying on friendly terms with the Knights he admired, he might have been able to learn what the secret designs of the Church had been. But because of who he was, or rather how different he was, he'd kept them at an arm's length. Nero cursed himself for naively having faith in the Order's integrity without question.
So what if he'd hated the Church? Because of his unwillingness to put up with the lameass preaching, he had missed what was really going on around him. He had been smack dab in the middle of the conspiracy without knowing it. How stupider could he have been? The idea an idiot lapdog like Marcus knew more than he should have coated his stomach with lead.
Faintly hearing Kyrie and feeling her frantic concern for him, Nero couldn't help taking in her springtime scent and gentle heat as he tried to process what was happening to him. How could an uppity douche bag hit him hard enough to break stride with a one-two punch he never saw coming?
Eyes burning, Nero couldn't speak as he refused to give into poisonous memories and the sinister suspicions threatening his sanity. He wasn't down for the count yet - not by a longshot. Yeah, he'd keep telling himself that until he got through to the other side.
Everything he believed in and the foundations he'd built his life on were shaken with tiny cracks beginning to show as they snaked through his mind and heart. Had Credo and Sanctus really known he was a decedent of Sparda? Had he stood a chance from birth? Driven, independent and living on his own terms, Nero didn't know if he could survive knowing it had all been a sham.
As the world narrowed, Nero slipped further into the pit pulling him down. Feelings he couldn't control were taking him over as he grappled to make sense of what was real and what wasn't. Had his whole life been a lie? Was he only a thing to be used? Nero didn't know but he had been, hadn't he? His soul mirroring his charcoal gray, lightless devil arm, he numbly waited for rage to surface. He could feel a bubbling in the dark that wouldn't come to the boil he needed to light up.
...
When Kyrie felt her beloved, defiant to the end, never surrendering Nero falling into an abyss, she nearly panicked. Afraid to touch him, hamper his movements or distract him (she didn't trust Marcus far as she could throw him - which meant not at all), she pitted her will against his. Not about to lose this match, Kyrie rushed to encase him with her spirit so firmly he couldn't shake her loose.
Fighting to merge with him, she called and called. Although she was heartened to feel him take some of her essence into him, he refused to answer as if shamed.
Feeling lost and alone, Nero didn't want to let Kyrie in. At this point, he wasn't certain what she'd see and didn't want to hurt or drive her away. He may be selfish in wanting her to love him for himself, but he couldn't bear the thought she'd think him a rube to be played. Frankly, in this case, he'd rather not know himself.
Try as he might, he couldn't quit replaying Dante explaining that because of his background, he had brushed off the vibes coming from Credo as he embraced demonic power to become a lowlife treacherous "angel." Looking back, he forced himself to admit, yeah, he had known when Credo changed, but had put it down to his rise in rank where he gave out orders like there was no tomorrow with his chest and ambitions swelling at each step up the ladder.
Nevertheless, though they had their differences, he had thought they'd had some kind of connection. Regardless how many times Nero bitched and loudly disagreed with his actions or decisions, Credo had taken the job of being his guardian seriously. He had watched over him, handed out learned advice, showed concern over his safety and sent him on missions Nero was best suited for.
Then again, couldn't this mean Marcus was right and this was a sign Credo had wanted to keep him close, controlled, and under wraps?
Balance gone as his world tilted, Nero didn't want to believe his loosely adopted older brother and trusted leader had gone this much of a distance in deceiving him. Even if he had been in on Sanctus' plan, he couldn't have been that wrong about him, could he? He sure had been off the mark before. Maybe he always had been.
Deaf, dumb and blind, Nero's ability to form a thought vanished as the whitewashed page he stood on folded into a paper note - without a chord making a ripple in the dead space where he floated alone. So very alone.
...
What Nero didn't know was he wasn't alone.
Surrounded by allies who'd positively seen the worst humans or demons could dish out, they weren't easily taken in by warped ideals or psychological warfare. And they hadn't been too keen on hearing the words Marcus spit at Nero like bullets. Even Vergil was not pleased to sense Kyrie's fiery young man injured by vindictive assertions from an imbecilic twat. He supposed Nero's youth had something to do with letting the irritating, deranged twit full of false bravado (or bullshit, as Dante would say) get to him.
Angrily sensing the internal slices and cuts their sweet Nero concealed, Trish and Lady placed themselves so he was covered from all sides. Going into emergency medical revival mode, Kyrie searched to fan his usually furiously burning flames back to blazing life. She could tell they were flickering into smoldering embers - threatening to turn to ash.
Suppressing the panic as she calmed herself, Kyrie thought to make use of the powerful pool inside her. Concentrating hard, she intently focused on building frothing waves blowing a fresh, whipping wind to help her.
Meanwhile, frowning, Dante wasn't too happy to sense Nero's state either and caught what Kyrie was attempting. Reckoning she might have the right idea, he subtly cast out his power to lend her a bit more experienced strength. Pleasantly surprised, he discovered Kyrie was a fast study who didn't question or look a gift horse in the mouth in her time of crisis as she grabbed hold of the message and aid he sent her.
Unsure what happened but glad nonetheless, Kyrie suddenly felt her oceanic pool become an exhilarating surf in front of her instead of surrounding her so she was steadier and could control the direction the wind blew. Seizing the surge of energy and listening to the whispering instructions riding the cresting waves, she pushed through Nero's shield to whirl an intoxicating crisp breeze carrying the scent of peach blossoms around and through him.
Emboldened she breached his defenses by taking him off guard, she was relieved to the extent of catching herself from sagging when she felt him begin to blaze anew.
Startled, Nero breathed as Kyrie's devoted love twisted a tornado shaking up that awful numbing stillness of white enclosed by the churning, pain filled black. Nearly placing a hand to his chest, he felt her comforting warmth embrace his heart as it slowly melted through his body until his gut fired up.
Unbidden, a memory rose as he saw himself and Kyrie burning the clothes they had worn throughout their fight against the Order and Church in a barrel. Watching the insignia proclaiming him a Knight of the Order of the Sword curl and char to become unrecognizable, he had moved to remove the ring engraved with same symbol from his finger to throw it into the flames - hoping they were hot enough to melt the thing.
Clasping his hand, Kyrie had quietly asked him not to let their enemies take his art from him. Why didn't he make something good out of the bad by maybe creating the symbol of Red Queen on his ring to match the one he wore in honor of Blue Rose?
Staring, deeply affected, Nero knew Kyrie didn't know he had dedicated Blue Rose to her. Every etched, intricate, detail he had carved into the barrel (including the ring made from the leftover metal), was filled with longing for the day they would be together - forever. But wasn't she also his queen of hearts? Not letting her see the tears welling to rain on his dry as dust eyes, he had nodded brusquely - supposing her suggestion might help them a little in facing the trauma they had to overcome.
...
Upset, Kyrie realized while she managed to merge with Nero, he was holding fast to his shields. Too late she tortured herself for not being quick enough or smart enough to perhaps have gone with Marcus (she had known his foolhardy goal the instant he touched her) to avoid the high probability of Nero being hurt. In guilty misery, she thought, No. Nero would follow. Please God, help me. Tell me what to do.
For the first time in her entire life, Kyrie was tempted to deny the many silenced voices demanding to be heard. Was she so selfish she would leave them in limbo as if they had never been in order to keep her treasured Nero safe?
Ashamed, she couldn't help seeking Dante and Vergil from where they stood hidden in plain sight. As mighty as they were, they could not help her and would bear witness to her cowardliness in trying to keep hidden something that involved them as well. Almost flinching from the thought of letting them down, the vision of their disapproval had her firming her spine.
Taking courage from them, she arrived at a decision as she stood framed in light while gazing at the area she knew Dante and Vergil were. Simply knowing they existed made her believe in miracles and right now would be a good time for a miracle. Deepening her shame, she had to repress an impulse to ask for their protection, especially Dante's since he knew Nero personally and had been on location when helping them through their previous trial.
Baffled, Dante commented, "She's looking straight at us. Do you think she knows we're here?
Vergil responded with a hint of pride, "I would not be the least surprised."
No? What did Vergil know he didn't? Couldn't he elaborate a bit? This trend of Vergil's was getting old but since it was a habit he had himself, Dante couldn't in all fairness point the finger. Not that Dante particularly cared if he was being fair. He didn't want to have to defend himself in a verbal battle with Vergil he was sure to lose since he didn't have a leg to stand steady on. Shoot.
Roused from his thoughts, Dante, along with Vergil, were nonplused when Kyrie spoke with large haunted eyes stealing glances toward them as if asking for their help from something neither could decipher from her words or expression. They picked up she felt a need for their support while simultaneously projecting a concern for them as they were about to become an audience to whatever was about to occur. Talk about mixed signals.
Kyrie decided if Nero couldn't, or wouldn't, talk to her mentally, she would speak to him out loud by addressing Marcus' remarks - praying he would hear her. Lifting her chin, she alleged, "You may think you're right but you are wrong. I am the one who found Nero and convinced him to come home with me. If Credo had known about Nero's bloodline, he certainly didn't act like he did because I had to fight both of them while persuading Nero to stay."
Marcus scoffed, "You lie."
Taking deep breaths, preparing for the performance of her life (and/or Nero's), she shrugged, "Believe what you will. I am also the one who pushed Credo into finding someway in getting Nero to remain with us when he came of age and wished to live independently as any man would."
Cobwebs clearing from mind and sight, Nero grew alert when he heard this previously unknown news. Almost jerking around in astonishment, he boggled, "What? Why?"
Golden eyes softly shining, she answered, "I promise you Nero, I never, ever knew you weren't completely human and I don't think Credo did either. I'm sorry if this was wrong of me but I couldn't let you go without at least trying."
A faint blush graced her cheekbones as she quietly admitted, "I wanted you to stay so bad it hurt. I knew you weren't interested in me as a woman, but I kept wishing you'd see me as one you..." Kyrie had to clear her throat as she told herself not to be a coward and tell Nero the embarrassing truth in front of... well... everyone. "Um... desired."
Thrown by her choice of words, which had him jolting upright, Nero's eyes widened as she rushed to finish, "Even if you couldn't, I could at least be with you, talk to you, see you and make sure you were taken care of properly. I hoped and prayed - again selfishly - if I tried to the best of my abilities to make you proud of me and worked hard enough, you'd start to feel the same about me as I did you."
Nero blinked then blanked as her enlightening confession shot him over the moon. Nice to know he hadn't been suffering alone. If only he'd known sooner. Talk about missed opportunities combined with crossed wires. He wondered if he should let Kyrie know he'd wanted his own place to prove to Credo he could provide for her while courting her, as she deserved.
Reminiscing how she'd said she needed to see to his well being, found pleasure in his company and wanted him to be proud of her, Nero's entire body went into a grinning meltdown. And she called herself selfish? Didn't she understand in thinking of him without a thought for herself, while expecting nothing from him, she was anything but? He guessed not.
Forcibly suppressing a telling flush combined with an irresistible compulsion to take a hike - with Kyrie in tow - he also had to control himself from coiling around her like a purring cat that had just been served the richest cream known to mankind in a golden saucer. As her fiercely determined devotion sank into his pores, Nero's thoughts turned to imagining Kyrie at her most selfish in her desire to please him.
Forehead furrowing as he watched Nero space out, Vergil asked Dante, "What on earth is Nero doing? He should be concentrating on the task at hand yet appears to have lost focus."
Smothering a snickering chuckle, Dante educated Vergil, "Nah. The kid's definitely focusing. My guess is what Kyrie told him perked him up."
Sniffing, Vergil replied, "It is beyond my ken a male would lower his guard by being distracted by his attraction to a female."
Dante laughed at him, "Like you haven't had your head turned a time or two. What I wouldn't give to see that look on your face."
"Keep dreaming because it is not going to happen," Vergil retorted.
"Ten bucks says you're wrong."
"Do not be absurd. What kind of bet has no time limit?"
Dante answered smoothly, "A safe one?"
"Coming up with inane ideas are safe bets when it comes to you. I suggest you stick with those and leave real gambling to those who know what they are doing," Vergil advised.
Disgruntled, Dante remarked, "Like you for instance? To be on the SAFE side, I'll keep a camera with a high powered lens ready just in case. Prig."
Sensing Kyrie's puzzlement, Nero rapidly returned from his lunar expedition where he'd been exploring all kinds of different, interesting properties - giving him loads of ideas how to thoroughly examine Kyrie on earth. That is, if he got the chance.
Getting himself together, recalling the period under discussion and the following subsequent events, Nero projected suspiciously to Kyrie, "Let me guess. You threatened to quit throwing those high class gatherings of his if he didn't come up with a convincing reason to get me to stay."
Sensing her abashment, he knew he was on target. Not letting up, he took a couple of steps further, "Then you promised to do everything you could to become the leading vocalist of the Church like he wanted you to if he did the job. I always wondered why you applied for a position I knew you didn't want. Kyrie, you shouldn't have used yourself as a bargaining chip. All you had to do was ask and I would have stayed. I was paying rent with all the trimmings in a nice place, you know."
Hiding behind her lowered lashes, Nero wanted to smile over her cute bashfulness. He reached out with his senses to send her loving thanks, only to feel her wrenching sorrow, wildly deep conflict and terror for... him. "Kyrie. Honey. It's alright. Don't worry. I can handle this guy with one hand tied behind my back. And it's not my human one I'm talking about," he assured her, taking a stab at what had her beyond upset.
Bewildered when she didn't send a return reply, he broadened his scope. Then he abruptly felt the threat coming from Marcus. With an outside hatred washing over him, he knew without doubt Kyrie was the main target with him second. Telling himself to get a grip, fast, Nero's eyes wandered across that God forsaken uniform again.
Brows lowering, he thought of all the old Order had taken from him. Oh sure, he played the soldier for the conniving, soon to be disbanded, new Order on his terms with his own agenda with eyes wide open while looking over his shoulder. Making his motto, "Fool me twice, shame on me," he wasn't about to let the fucking "new" Order take anything else from him. Pausing to accumulate every ounce of information he could gather, he conjectured, Speaking of which...
Honing in on Marcus, Nero narrowed is his eyes in fury as he rapidly starting putting the pieces together. He'd taken out the leader of the new Order - thereby leaving a vacant head honcho seat to be filled. Feeling the intensity of Marcus' determination, gloating and toxic elation, Nero was positive the yapping shithead did want to take everything from him, which meant...
Kyrie.
He wanted Kyrie as a ticket for a ringside seat in the arena the top dog owned. And if Marcus had his way, there would be a top dog before Nero could bring him to heel. So that was the lapper of sleaze's plan. His gut told him he was missing something since the fuckhead had to know he could squash him like a nasty bug without noticing.
By not backing down and playing mind games to screw with his head in a bid Nero would be thrown off his game (which he had been - fucking A), the moron must have a trick up his sleeve he thought was a doozy of a ploy to take him out.
Nero could handle him. He would handle him. What he couldn't handle was the idea of Kyrie being used anymore. The very worst scenario to beat all unthinkable unforgivable scenarios was failing to protect her as he had before. NO. If they wanted him ('cause Nero seriously doubted this yellow striped wasp didn't have a hornet's nest to fly home to), fine by him. Bring it on. He'd take on anyone, anywhere, anytime.
But they were not getting their filthy hands on Kyrie. Never her. In her case, if they breached his guard, Nero wasn't above calling in reinforcements of his own. Because no one, NO ONE, was taking her from him ever again as strobing flashes appeared in his mind's eye of her trapped in demonic essence, various swords at her throat, being assaulted, vanishing into gold sparks in front of his very eyes as he desperately reached for her... to infinity and beyond. Never again.
Before he could open his mouth, or draw his gun since this snake didn't deserve to die "honorably" by the sword, he was hit by Kyrie's pleading, "Nero, can you feel me? Do you hear me?"
Perplexed, Nero merged with Kyrie, staying on alert as he assured her, "Yeah. I can. I can also tell there's something you're hiding and won't tell me. What's going on?"
Restraining herself from wringing her hands, she openly revealed, "I'm scared. I'm scared for you, and don't know what to do or what to show you. I'm trying my best to do the right thing but I don't want you hurt."
Disturbed and distressed, Nero felt her anguish alongside the tears she strove to bury as she brokenly told him, "I wish... I wish I could ask you to please not hate me for doing what I feel I must. I want you to know, even if you don't want to, you can hold tight to me if you are hurt by something you discover. I promise I won't let go."
Alarmed and mystified, Nero mulled over her statement. Needing more info, he decided a little probing may be order as he submerged himself into her. Checking her out, he marked she didn't resist him when he "pushed" against a block she had erected, though she wouldn't let him "see" what lay behind. Getting the feel of the wall and her, he did discover how she learned the things she was hiding. In having skin to skin contact with Marcus, she had seen into him - and it hadn't been pleasant nor pretty.
Considering the source, Nero worried about what she had seen. In battle, he had thought tying her to him would be enough to protect her, but he hadn't taken into account her newly gained talents. His heart breaking, he clearly felt her already broken heart, and she felt boxed in a canyon with four towering vertical walls of rough terrain with no way out.
The only option he had was sending her supporting comfort as he withdrew with a foreboding there was a red moon on the horizon, and he was helpless against its forbidding warning. Harshly cursing himself, he hadn't wanted her exposed to any more nastiness. A day late and a dollar short, Nero figured he deserved any ugliness coming his way for not being quick on the draw.
Both were unceremoniously yanked from their freeze-framed intensely private moment when they heard Marcus accuse Kyrie, "In calling him a demon, you know what he is. Do you really expect me buy you didn't know who he was? As our pure songstress leading us in worshiping Sparda, you had to know. And if you knew, so did Credo and he trained you well."
Shaken from their stupor by this rude wake up call, they swiftly recalled what the poor excuse of a Knight if there ever was one was talking about. Sending Nero a wrenching apology, Kyrie asked his forgiveness as she signaled she needed to address this issue. On unfamiliar turf and not liking it, he reluctantly held his tongue and let her take the lead - though he sure as the sun melted demons wasn't going to let her anywhere near the slimebag.
Even though he knew Kyrie knew a score he didn't, Nero, along with Dante and Vergil were stumped by her response.
Concentrating intently, they tried to sense what she was trying to tell them as she spoke evenly, "I never disrespected Sparda's memory, legacy or heirs by worshiping him as a god with hymns. If you listened to my songs, you would have heard I lead the chorus and people in praising Sparda's nobility in fighting for what he came to see as wrong. By rejecting his own world containing terrible evil to lend his protection to those less powerful than he, not only should we be grateful, we should follow his example ourselves. It is our world and lives endangered, isn't it?"
Pondering where this declaration came from, Dante was always happy to hear humans owning up to owning the Human World. It may cut down on his jobs, but so far, it didn't look like he'd be out of work anytime soon. Regardless, there was the whole demon wanting to eat or torture people thing. Humans had a tough time fending off quicker than rats on steroids, hard to kill, variety packed demons.
Knowing Kyrie must have a reason for bringing the revolting Church solidly into the picture, Vergil waited for what came next.
Nero too questioned why Kyrie brought Sparda up to this extent. He knew she hadn't seen him as a god. Instead, intrigued and awed, she had followed his history closely, which meant she diligently studied whatever she could and regularly attended "church," whereas he could barely tolerate being in the building headed by that son of bitch Sanctus.
Besides this, like her mother and father, she had been part of the community for charitable reasons. Though Credo had thrown politics into the mix - making them, especially Kyrie, - part of the show of his fancy parties as he rubbed elbows with big shots, he remembered sourly.
Shocked, Marcus asked her astounded, "What you talking about Kyrie? You were the Church's pure songstress. Of course you believe Lord Sparda is our god. Why else would you want to be with something like Nero?"
Hackles rising, Nero clenched his teeth but Kyrie beat him to the punch by stating firmly, "Sparda is your god, not mine. Although, I'm not sure if your faith is true since you pick and choice which Sparda you consider worthy of your devotion."
Taken aback, Nero asked, "Kyrie, what are you doing?" as Marcus wanted to know, "How dare you say that? I am a loyal follower of the Church of Sparda."
"I dare because if you truly were a believer you wouldn't extol one son of Sparda while scorning the other who does his father's work in the Human World. Don't you think that's hypocritical? Not to mention, according to your own beliefs, blasphemous?"
Shocked, Marcus sputtered, "I'm not a hypocrite. I do remain true to my faith in Sparda. Don't you think saying I'm blasphemous is going too far?" When Kyrie merely looked at him without saying a word, he wilted under her serene gaze that insisted on the truth.
Baffled, Dante and Vergil were with Nero in wondering what Kyrie had in the works. Why persist in clearing Dante's name? Who cared? Not them - that was for damn sure.
They refocused as Marcus grudgingly conceded, "I see where you're coming from. Yes. Even though I wish he'd accepted his role in becoming one with our Savior, he does do his father's work in the Human World. Perhaps if given time he would've seen the scope of our undertaking, which would've far exceeded the limited amount of enemies he can eliminate. So, therefore, I concede Dante's..."
Really thrown for a loop, they heard the obstinacy when Kyrie stopped him with a sharp, "Who?"
Yielding to her rare but effective chastisement, Marcus changed course, "I mean, I concede Lord Dante's godliness belongs alongside his father and brother's."
As Nero and Vergil raised a brow, giving Kyrie points for scoring one for the team, even if he was the member taking one for the team, Dante grimaced (called Lord anything made his stomach turn). Trish and Lady bit a lip to keep from smirking as they sensed the men's leeriness over what was coming as Marcus wanted to know, "If you don't venerate their father, why do you care how I refer to Da... Lord Dante?"
The other brow meeting the other in rising higher, Nero heard a tone in Kyrie's voice he didn't hear too often, and when he did - look out. Vergil had also heard the same tone when she called his watchdogs off him and for the life of him couldn't understand why she would go into protective mode over Dante of all people.
"Without being, or I believe wishing to be my lord, Dante is a mighty, honorable warrior. He places himself at risk with every strike of his fearsome sword and firing of his blazing guns without flinching from the most ferocious, strongest of demons. Using himself as an unyielding shield, he protects those weaker than himself. Most importantly, he demonstrates his worthiness and nobility in doing so by his own choice. Therefore, you will speak of him with respect due him," she rebuked him sternly.
Whoa! Without having seen Kyrie acting a lioness protecting her cub, Dante was amazed and impressed. To add a cherry to this unforeseen, never before experienced sensation of someone coming unnecessarily to his defense, he found himself all aglow. What a concept. And by a gentle young lady who hardly knew him too. Didn't see that coming. Tastes sweet all the same.
Although he had a rule against interacting with any fanatic of any kind, Dante had to hold himself back from asking Kyrie if he could return the favor on principal alone as Trish discreetly smiled fondly at him. Thoughtfully, she surmised a reward was in order for Kyrie's thoughtfulness.
Trish's smile swiftly changed to one promising retaliation as Marcus scowled, "You can't tell me what to do. Unlike your precious Nero, I know how to act properly. I already said I got the message didn't I? Why are you jumping my case when I was just asking you a question?"
Kyrie replied in the same tone as before, only stricter, "Because you arrogantly resent Dante for declining joining you in your your quest. By your own beliefs, you have no right to judge him. If you were a true believer, you would have humbly approached him instead of luring him into 'participating' in Sanctus' grand vision. If you revere Vergil, then you must equally revere and acknowledge Dante's greatness. Or did I misunderstand his Holiness' sermons?"
Here comes that glow again. Mouths gaping from almost everyone (and Dante's gut was in line with Nero's, which included Vergil's since he wasn't dense either), he was considerably cheered. Grabbing the opportunity to bask in the moment, Dante grinned as he withheld nudging Vergil a, Told ya I am too as great as you, and urging Kyrie on. Maybe I should make a note to self to make a note on a calendar (if I can find one) marking this date as a banner day?
Stifling a laugh when she heard and felt him, Trish saw the brief smile pass over Kyrie as if she sensed she had pleased Dante. Disturbed, she also saw that smile vanish as quickly as it appeared to become a calm, straight line. Being in close vicinity to Dante, Vergil missed this telling sign as he rolled his eyes over Dante's unseemly (in his opinion) delight while in a tangled knot of an unstable situation. Already on high alert, a tense Nero didn't need the tell to tell Kyrie was bracing herself for he didn't know what.
Struggling to maintain a tranquil expression for all she was worth, Kyrie could barely remain composed under the strain of standing steady and speaking as if sympathetic to Marcus' bent mindset. Outwardly calm, she waited patiently as he protested his innocence until begrudgingly agreeing to hold Dante with the same regard he held Vergil, before she went to the next person of interest on the list.
"I understand. You were acting out of excitement over the Savior and got caught up in your zeal. Likewise, because you accept his Holiness' proclaiming the glory of Sparda and the need for the power of his decedents, you must realize Nero is included by Sanctus' decree."
In an appalled uproar, her reasoning was met by a shouting, "What? No way is that going to happen!" by Nero and "I may have made a mistake in disrespecting Lord Dante, but if you think for a second I'm gonna honor Nero you're wrong!" from Marcus.
Abruptly coming to standstill, Dante was sure glad he seized his moment in the sun because it looked like his 15 minutes of fame were up and things were about to turn the irksome direction he had been expecting. Not too thrilled himself, Vergil intently zeroed in on Kyrie as he contemplated where exactly she was heading with this train of thought.
Ignoring their reaction required her going forward to be an effort as Kyrie forced herself to ask innocently, "Why? Is it you're jealous of Nero?"
"Why? You're asking me why? I'll tell you why. He's not a son of Sparda, but a bastardized version. Considering my family's name far exceeds his, why would I be jealous of a half-breed whose only distinction is being a stuck-up insubordinate who goes his own way because he got lucky in getting Sparda's blood into him? " Marcus savagely gnashed.
Nero may have been stunned speechless but Kyrie was undeterred as she stated with regretful certainty, "I know you're jealous because you wish you were him. Despite your pride in your high society name, you know he stands above you and certainly isn't the nobody you cruelly called him. He's the closest you've ever been to a decedent of Sparda and you should pray he's the closest you'll get."
Unable to save him, even for a trial sure to lead to an execution for his heinous actions and unwholesome practices, she sighed, "Unfortunately, in your spitefulness and envy, you have gone too far and crossed a line the sons of Sparda have drawn. I wish I could tell you there is still time to change but I fear that time has passed."
As they listened to her resigned speech, all three, Vergil, Dante and Nero, straightened in varying degrees of menace. Easily sensing them (as did Trish and Lady, who readied themselves for whatever disaster was headed toward their general vicinity), Kyrie buried her doubts about her plan to make Marcus so enraged he'd slip and went where she feared to tread.
Knowing the false Knight of the old Order was dead regardless what happened, she hoped to expose his crimes to gain justice for those anonymous fallen victims.
Hoping he would heed her warning with little hope he would in his lust for power and what he saw as glory, unable to look at Nero, she informed an off balanced Marcus, "You should know if you want me to go with you, one brother will always seek the other. For that matter, I wouldn't be surprised if they were together this very moment," .
Confirming she knew exactly where they were, Dante and Vergil nearly choked as she seemed to be politely requesting them to join her.
As for Nero, troubled she'd closed herself off, he got the clue, immediately sensed the brothers, and prepared himself to take on anyone necessary. After their previous exchange, with the poser's first target firmly in mind, he didn't need to guess to get the gist of her scheme and wasn't going to stand for it - come Hell or half-devils.
As Kyrie expected, Marcus leapt on what she said. Eagerly he queried, "Did you learn this from Lord Vergil? Are you trying to warn me he would be angered if his twin was maligned? Of course he would. This is why you were insistent on telling me how terribly I had wronged Lord Dante and directed me toward acting properly. Do you know where he is?"
Suppressing her shudders, Kyrie replied vaguely, "How would I know? He is quite capable of hiding in the most obvious places." Vergil's brows drew together as he understood she was sending a message she may need him and he supposed he was correct when she continued, "If you promise everyone here safe passage, I will go with you wherever you choose. If you agree, I'm sure Vergil will come for me. There's no need to involve anyone else."
Oh, yes. I most assuredly will come for you. Then this annoying buzzing gnat will be no more, as Kyrie well knows, Vergil concluded, more than happy to be of service. Idly tapping Yamato, he pondered how swiftly he could conjure a handy flyswatter - which would do nicely in flattening the pest.
Dante, on the other hand, couldn't believe tenderhearted little Kyrie was requesting an unleashing of his brother on a frail human. What the heck's going on? Kyrie must know she doesn't need a nuclear warhead when a bow and arrow would do the trick. Overkill, much? Then he caught Kyrie was using the threat of Vergil (though the dumbass dweeb sure as demons didn't see him as one) for a dicey gamble she was chancing.
As Marcus vacillated, Nero went into an irate raging, "Hellfire will freeze over before I let you take Kyrie to that Devil. Don't you know about the girls he killed? Do you care at all she could get hurt? You really are crazy."
Reading the bloodsucking tick like a wide open book before he opened his mouth, Lady detected no compassion whatsoever for the abused, abducted and murdered women in this monstrous compound. Itching to pull the trigger on the callous wretched bastard, or, since the slimy toad was out of his senses standing upright, laying him out on the ground senseless after causing lurid bruising to his face and other sensitive body parts as painfully as possible, she disgustedly agreed, "You got that right."
Brushing her off without a glance (if Vergil harbored any doubts of the boy's lack of intellect or sanity, dismissing Lady as a substantial threat put them to rest in a marked grave), Marcus vehemently reproved Nero, "You would make a noble son of Sparda sound like a cold blooded killer. Lord Vergil has the privilege and knowledge to know who is most deserving of his attention. If he rejected lesser girls, it was out of wisdom and a way of telling us he would accept no one less than the best we could offer. As I knew he would, he immediately saw the purity and worthiness in Kyrie his Holiness did, and the very night they met, chose her to be by his side."
Having no illusions about his reasons behind his actions, Vergil blanched. Feeling his alarm, Dante took the opening in inquiring a curious probing, "Yeah? Is that how it went down Vergil? Call me impressed. That was some quick thinking on your part to have gotten the whole shebang from the bad guys."
Hissing through his teeth, Vergil responded an uncharacteristic candid, "Shut up. This is nothing to jest about. Kyrie barely escaped with her life by the merest chance," making Dante's curiosity rise to new heights.
The merest chance, huh? Dammit, would he EVER know what saved Kyrie from Vergil killing her outright as he'd done with the other "pure ones" he'd been sent? Not to mention all the other stuff he'd been teased with by little hints dropped here and there. Dante had a strong urge to beat what he wanted to know out of Vergil but grudgingly knew no amount of "persuasion" was going to work in getting him to spill the beans until he was good and ready. (Which meant, like, never - shit.)
However, Nero caught something Marcus said. Gripping him by the collar, tightening the fabric at his neck, he growled ominously, "You knew he would 'choose' her? When were you were aware she was in the building? Maybe you suggested her as a candidate. If you did, how many other women did you point toward the demons and sickos in this house of horrors? And what do you mean Sanctus knew? Knew what exactly?"
Paling, Marcus mulishly shook his head, "I am loyal to his Holiness' memory and teachings. If he saw something special in Kyrie, then she's special. Kyrie's lying. Maybe's she's afraid of you, but I know, as she does, Credo was training her to fulfill her true purpose as his Holiness wished."
Violently shaking him to answer, ugly suspicion began rising as Nero lethally asked lowly, "True to her purpose? Just what did you think her purpose was jackass?" His gut feeling increased as he felt Kyrie's embarrassment she would prefer this subject be dropped.
And a dead on, exploding on impact, something from a grenade launcher did drop on him as Marcus spat venom, "Shit Nero. Don't act stupid. Kyrie was groomed as an incentive for Lord Dante to accept his destiny. But noo. You being you, just had to attack and chase him away after he killed his Holiness' human form in order to awaken the angel within him. We'd been expecting him, only we were caught off guard. It was bad timing you were with Kyrie when he appeared and went on the offense after she obediently ran to humble herself before him in tribute."
"What! You thought Kyrie was willing to willingly be a virgin sacrifice? And she fell on purpose? I said it before, I'll say it again - you've escaped the lunatic bin. Or, I've the dumb luck of stepping into yours. This is too much! DANTE, too?" Nero yelped an aghast yell as Kyrie gasped a squeaked, "Nero!" in utter mortification as she recalled who was witnessing this little scene.
While Dante pinched the bridge of his nose, holding back an incoming headache, hearing Vergil's wickedly sarcastic, "Good Lord Dante. Apparently your timing was as bad as ever. You appeared to have been as in the dark as the crazed human male says Nero was. In addition, you let a less experienced youth 'chase you away'? Perhaps I was mistaken about the validity of your reputation," didn't help in stopping the internal pained groan at the idiocy behind that nutty reasoning (Nero'd hit the mark there).
Sending Vergil a vivid mental image of relishing running him through with Rebellion, he made to step forward to set the record straight (and maybe twist off the dweeb's head to match his twisted thinking). Before he could emerge from his hiding place, a fed up Trish sauntered forward with a discreet gesture toward Lady who'd crept up behind Marcus. Seeing Trish's signal, she lowered her gun, but not her guard - interested to see what she had up her sleeve.
Intent on getting the truth out of Marcus for Kyrie's safety, Nero wasn't aware of Trish coming up behind him. As his fury reached new levels and he was about to pound the douche into the ground, he felt a soothing, slender hand on his shoulder. Startled, he glanced at her as she requested a pleasant, silkily feminine, "Why don't I take it from here Nero, alright?"