Author's Note: One my chapter after this, then Epilogue, then some way shorter Christmas stuff

Enjoy!

Chapter Six
Heaven on a Landslide

It had taken Vergil less time to find the object of his demon's fascination than it had for Ashira and the others to arrive in Turtle Cove. And while he had tried to avoid it, as he was certain the frequent trips between worlds was causing great strain on the barrier between them, he couldn't stop himself from opening that portal each time he did. His demon's overpowering desire had brought him back no less than six times. And with each visit, its incessant whispers grew louder and louder. And the more Vergil tried to ignore it, the louder it got.

Take it.

It's the power you've always wanted.

Sit on the throne and the world is yours.

All yours.

His visit to Dante had been the final straw. He'd barely managed to find him. Barely held himself together long enough to figure out what had gone wrong. His only saving grace had been his demon's sudden interest in the plants protruding from the human victim.

The plants represent our enemy. It said to him as he trudged back to its new favorite place. We must understand them if we wish to conquer them.

Vergil stopped at the door; a towering thing made of a mix of silver and blackened metal. It, like the rest of this hells forsaken castle, was smooth and devoid of anything to identify who it might belong to. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered it. It had been different back then, adorned by numerous carvings of Mundus and the heads of his enemies. The palace had been golden - or was it bronze? - and filled to the brim with docile servants and demons trapped in bodies not their own. Mundus had only stayed here a short time and, as far as Vergil knew, the palace had been left alone since Mundus' death. No one had sat on the throne. No one else could. This cursed place, the throne he wanted so badly to ignore, was waiting just for him.

If Vergil weren't so exhausted, he would have laughed bitterly at the irony.

I'll never escape.

It was his fault and he knew it, but it didn't stop the agony in his heart.

Slowly, and only somewhat of his own will, Vergil shoved the doors open. They creaked as they parted, albeit quieter than last time. When he stepped forward, they slammed shut behind him. A breeze from the hole in the ceiling caught his coattails for a split second, before dispersing as fast as it came. The throne room itself was massive. The ceilings reached far into the sky, but - like the rest of the palace - they were made of unadorned, smooth silver. It was a giant box of plain metal that could easily house hundreds of demons.

The only object in the room was the throne. It sat proudly over a flight of stairs, just below a solitary hole in the ceiling, shimmering in the moonlight. While his demon wanted him to approach it, Vergil pulled himself away, pressing his back against the door he slumped to the floor. His demon growled at the defiance, but it had yet to overtake him. All he had to do was stay awake. Wait for Ashira or Dante to sort this out, and he would be free.

With a great amount of effort, he lay Yamato across his lap. His fingers brushed the feather Ashira had left for him. Vergil could feel his heart twisting in something akin to loneliness. He had thought it shame once before, but that wasn't true. At least, not fully. He had assumed this time apart would be nothing to him. A few short days to figure everything out. And, when it was all over, he would fix the mess he'd made between them. It wouldn't be that difficult, as he was certain Ashira wanted to do the same. But this separation… that blank space in his mind that he hadn't felt in years was more painful and distracting than he'd ever thought it would be. His soul felt empty without that permanent tug. He felt empty, unable to reach her, and almost unwilling to admit that he may have taken their connection for granted.

His eyes drifted back to the throne. He wished he could destroy it and move on with his life. He wished he could go to Ashira without his demon-half dreaming of her blood on its fingertips. Her skin shredded as it devoured her, savoring every moment...

Vergil shook his head, trying to drive the visions out. The demon's thoughts had grown more wild by the hour, and Vergil could no longer stop it.

She is a suitable mate. Ours and ours alone. But that's all she'll ever be.

She was more than that to him, but not to a demon. Not to the person he once was.

Not to a king.

"Vergil."

He twitched at the sound, but his body didn't jerk away as he expected it to. Sitting by his side was V, calm and quiet as he too looked up at the throne before them. How he got there, Vergil didn't know. But when he felt his demon retreat, albeit reluctantly, he was grateful. "She found him," V said as he met Vergil's gaze.

"And?"

V's expression didn't change, but Vergil swore he saw his eyes soften just a bit. "You need me more than she does at the moment."

Vergil lay his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Does she know?"

"She cannot feel your presence."

"And you can?"

"I am still a piece of you," V said. "A piece that may need to return to give you a chance."

Vergil's eyes snapped open. "No."

V raised an eyebrow. "Why not? She has the familiars to protect her. Her soul is healed. My assistance is no longer required."

"I won't…" He flinched at the sharp pain in his head but kept going. "I won't allow it."

"You're losing yourself."

"I'm fine."

"For how much longer?"

"As long as I need to be!" Vergil snapped. It came out as a roar, and his body lurched in response. He shoved his other half back down, but not before his tail unfurled from his back and his wings came down over his shoulders. "Stay with her," He said trying to ignore the numbness threatening to take him over. "You're the only one who can."

V watched him for a long moment. Vergil thought he might reject that notion outright. Force himself back in. Vergil didn't know how he could do it, or if it were even possible. But he didn't have to question it for long, for V simply nodded. "I will return when she needs me."

"V…"

He shook his head. "She is safe with the others. I will stall your frenzy for as long as I can."

Vergil let his head fall to the side as he slumped further along the ground. His muscles were giving out. His breathing was ragged. He was running out of time. But he would keep fighting as long as he had to. He refused to let her or anyone else die for his mistakes. But despite his newfound determination, his voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you."

Ashira didn't know how long they'd been walking, but it was long enough that she was certain they'd cut through the entire library and come out on the opposite side of the Underworld. If things weren't so dire - nor her heart so heavy - she might have wondered how Pythagoras moved so fast while waddling in that oversized robe. But her mind kept wandering to Vergil. Wondering where he was and if he was still fighting. She assumed he was, as she was certain his demon would have forced her to its side by now. But Ashira couldn't know for sure, and it was slowly killing her.

If his demon did take control… would she be able to bring him back?

"He has not sat on the throne yet," Pythagoras said as he led her through a series of trees. She'd never been to this portion of the Underworld, and its blue hues and ash-like snow was a far cry from the dry, red place her home had been in. A silver moon hung in the sky, casting an ethereal glow on everything around her. Even Pythagoras seemed to shimmer, but that may be more of his silly crown catching the moonlight than himself.

"How do you know?" She said finally as she pushed aside a low hanging branch. The trees were flexible here but snapped back to their spots like rubber bands the second she let go. Griffon had come out for about half a second, but quickly retreated when one had snapped into his face when he wasn't paying attention. Now she just heard him grumbling in her mind, followed by Shadow's gentle purrs. She wasn't sure who the panther was trying to calm down, but she didn't want to think about it too much.

"The castle is north of here," He said, pointing to the right without looking. She had to trust him, as she saw nothing but blue pine needles. "When the Demon King takes the throne for the first time, his power ignites a symbol in the sky announcing his presence. And I can assure you that hasn't happened yet."

Ashira's heart lurched into her throat. "I need to go to him. I need…"

"No," Pythagoras' voice boomed in the silence of the forest. She flinched but begrudgingly looked at him. "You need to understand what is happening here." He said, a bit calmer this time. "You are the only one his demon might accept."

"Accept?" She said. "But he already…"

"His human side, yes," Pythagoras said. "But his demon was born of the Qliphoth fruit. Its rule has never been challenged since Mundus' death, nor did it have any reason to fight for the throne. Now the Princes are looking for his heart, and he may not think Vergil is good enough."

"He's never had issues with his demon," Ashira said hallowly. "Not since he split himself…"

"Exactly," Pythagoras said. "But we cannot sit here chatting, girl. If you want to save him and everyone else in this cursed world, we must hurry."

Ashira's response died on her tongue when she stepped into the first clearing they'd had in miles. Twelve bodies hung from the trees similar to the first ones they had found. These, however, were clearly demonic, with human bodies but features of animals and other creatures. A few had horns. Some had tails. Another was covered in fur. Their clothes were lightly torn, just enough to show the holes in their chests. Twelve missing hearts, but their souls were still intact.

Except they… weren't. Their flames weren't moving, as if they were frozen in time. Lines of green were curled up in each one, and the colors were turning gray at the bottom.

"What do you see?" Pythagoras said.

Ashira said nothing at first as she summoned a small amount of flame and reached for the closest soul. As her fingers brushed it, the soul turned gray like a stone, before shattering into dust. She lurched back as the skin of the woman turned gray, crawling up to her face before crumbling along with the soul. Multiple, thick green vines erupted from the mound of ashes, but flopped over, dead. Ashira took a deep and shaky breath. "They're reavers," she said. Were, her mind echoed, but her throat was too dry to voice it. "How long?"

"Weeks, as far as I'm aware," Pythagoras said. "But time in the Underworld flows differently." He kept walking. "Leave the others for now. If there is anything left of their souls after this long, a few more days won't change it."

At first, Ashira couldn't tear her eyes away. They all looked terrified, and she couldn't help but imagine how they had died. Except, nothing came to her. She couldn't imagine who, or what, could tear out people's hearts so cleanly. Or the kind of agony these people were under when it happened.

Were they alive then? Was that what killed them?

Could I have saved any of them if I had known?

"Phoenix," Pythagoras said. "Now."

Numb, Ashira followed after him. This time, however, they only went a few feet before stepping out onto a cliff where an ocean of mist hid how high they actually were. "Glasses," Pythagoras said as he held his hand out. Ashira hesitated, but closed her eyes as she handed them over. When her eyes opened again, darkness had replaced the mist. Instead, among the darkness, she saw leagues of dual-colored souls. She blinked, stunned. "Reavers," She whispered. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. It was impossible to tell.

"This is their only safe haven," Pythagoras said. She felt him tap her arm, and she reached out blindly before he lay her glasses back in her hand. "But that will not be true much longer."

After readjusting to her new vision, she looked to him. "Why?"

"More are leaving by the day," Pythagoras said. "Rumors have spread that reavers are turning on each other. And without a ruler willing to protect them…"

"The other Princes," Ashira whispered.

Pythagoras huffed, not happy with the interruption, but continued regardless. "They need a king, Ashira. You have to convince him to take that throne. For them. Otherwise, this," He waved his hand back toward the previous clearing. "Is just the beginning."

Ashira took a step back, not trusting herself near the edge as the world started to spin. "We killed Mundus almost ten years ago." She said. "Why now?"

"Reavers have been hunted for centuries," Pythagoras said. "Mundus' death and rumors of a Phoenix pulled them back together here, but many are beginning to believe that you don't exist."

Ashira reached for a tree, but stumbled. It was Shadow who appeared at her feet, nudging her forward with her snout. Ashira let herself collapse beside the panther, hand pressed against her warm fur. Griffon appeared on her shoulder, but said nothing. Ashira was grateful for their presence alone. "I never knew," She whispered. Tears stung her eyes. "I should've… I could've…"

"Enough," Pythagoras said. "I show you this because of our current predicament. If I had it my way, you'd remain hidden for another few centuries. People would continue to believe in your existence if things weren't so dire. But your foolish mate made his choice, and you both have to live with it."

Ashira's eyes closed. "They need him to take the throne."

"They need more than that."

Her eyes snapped open. "What?"

For the first time since they met almost a decade ago, Pythagoras looked at her with something bordering on reverence. Ashira couldn't quite place what it was. "There is an ancient tradition among our kind," He began. "When a new Demon King takes the throne, he may allow one person, usually his mate, to partake of his blood, marking them as his equal." His head tilted as much as it could considering he didn't have much of a neck. "It is safe to assume that you have never done so, correct?"

"...No." The thought hadn't even occurred to her. Or him, for that matter. At least, as far as she was aware. She always thought it was something intrinsic to their demons. He was the dominant one of the two, even if they did occasionally pretend he wasn't. It didn't matter. In what little she understood about demon dynamics, the weaker one never drank the stronger one's blood. If she had asked maybe but…

Her heart ran cold. "It's not Vergil I'll have to convince."

"No, it's not," Pythagoras said. "And I doubt his demon will be as attached to you as he is."

"But he and his demon…"

"Their minds are currently split," Pythagoras said. "Vergil will not be able to regain control until this matter is settled. Either he takes the throne alone, or with you. There is no alternative"

"Then let him have me," She muttered. "If that's the only way."

"They need someone strong enough to walk beside the King, not under him," Pythagoras said, gesturing to the hidden reavers below. "They need a Queen, Ashira. They need you and him, or nothing will change."

Dante didn't know what was worse; the fact that Ashira didn't come back until Midnight, or the sheer look of despair plastered on her face. Nico leapt to her feet immediately, looping her arm through Ashira's and practically dragging her away. Dante let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as Lir plopped down beside them, Alice asleep in his arms. "She didn't tell me anything," Lir said.

Dante wasn't surprised in the slightest. "So she found him." Lir merely nodded as his eyes flickered to Alice. Dante sighed. "No use in staying here then," He hopped to his feet before spinning around with a flourish as he bowed and held his hand out to Lucia. She stared at him in bewilderment. He didn't blame her. Most people didn't understand his ability to remain (or pretend to be) cheerful despite the uncertainty. But her eyes softened a moment later as she let him pull her to her feet. "Our room's on the other side," Dante said. "Hadn't planned on having so many guests."

"We'll make it work," Lucia said. "Come on, Lir. The best we can do now is rest."

Dante had no intention of sleeping, but he grinned at Lir with a confident thumbs up. "Maybe we'll even order some pizza! I'm sure someone around here still delivers."

Lir's nose wrinkled at that, but he followed them regardless, Alice sleeping soundly against his chest.

It didn't take long to reach their room, nor did it take long for Lir to fall asleep once Lucia gave him no other choice. Dante waited out on the balcony, looking over the ocean with a small remnant of his demon power. Not enough to call anything to him - that was probably the last thing he wanted at the moment, even though he was more than eager to murder this so-called Prince - but enough to see further than anyone else could. He frowned as he did so, uncertain of what he was actually seeing.

The glass door opened behind him. "I'll stay with them if you need to go," Lucia said.

Dante shook his head. "I wouldn't know where to start. Not without whatever Ashira found." His eyes narrowed. "Is the air sparkling for you too?"

"Yes," She said. "It's the barrier between worlds…" She held her hand out as if trying to touch the barrier itself. Dante wasn't surprised when nothing happened. "It's bleeding into ours."

"Because of this Prince?"She shook her head. "It was already strained after the Qliphoth tree grew, but Mundus' presence kept it together."

Dante sighed. "That's it then," He said. "Vergil has to…" His voice trailed off. He didn't want to say it. Didn't want to admit that their only way out of this mess was letting his brother go. Again, his mind whispered.

"Maybe not," Lucia said as she turned to lean her back on the rail. Dante stared for a few seconds too long, and only looked away when her head turned toward him. "Your father sealed Mundus away."

"That he did," Dante said, but his voice was hollow. Is that what he would have to do? Would he have to lock his brother away and keep watch for all eternity? What about Ashira? Would she be abandoned on this side of the void, or trapped with a soulmate that was slowly losing his mind? Would she let herself go if it meant saving Vergil, or would she fight back?

She's not strong enough.

He hated admitting that too. Ashira had grown in leaps and bounds over the last decade. She could spar on almost equal terms with him now, assuming he didn't stab her. Her demon form wasn't as strong as his, but it didn't necessarily have to be. Her magic was stronger than all of them. When she gave it her all, channeled every feather she had, and fought like her life depended on it, she'd put up a fight that Dante knew made Vergil proud.

But sparring them was different than an actual fight. Spars were calculated and controlled. Dante never fought her with his full strength, and Vergil never strayed too far away. He'd intercepted Dante more than once, sensing Ashira's loss of strength long before Dante noticed it. If Vergil lost himself - lost that rational, human side that loved her - she wouldn't stand a chance.

"I have to find him," Dante said.

"And do what?" Lucia said. "Defeating him won't change the facts," Her eyes drifted toward the moon. "Unless you intend to take the throne yourself."He bristled at that. "I'll pull him back."

"You can't," Lucia said. "His demon will never be satisfied. It wants to rule, even if he doesn't. It wants that throne, Dante. And if he doesn't take it, then someone else will." She sighed in what might have been frustration. "At least he's someone you believe in."

"He's not in control," Dante said. He'd fought Vergil's demon, long back when they'd called it Urizen because hiding the truth was easier than admitting it. And Urizen hadn't cared about anything. Without Vergil's human keeping it under control, the demon had nearly torn the world apart. And if Vergil lost control again… if he lost this man he'd become… Dante would have no choice.

"I have to do something, Luce."

"We will," She said as her fingers brushed his cheek. He leaned into her, biting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "We'll find the Shade and save your brother. He might still be the king but…" She sighed. "At least he'll be himself.

Dante hated that defeated look on her face too.

"You're right." He said, forcing the most genuine smile he could. It wasn't much, and she clearly wasn't falling for it, but it made him feel better. "We'll figure this out, knock some sense into Vergil, save the Underworld, then you can come work with me."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Work… with you?"

"Of course!" Dante said as he half slid, half hopped in front of her. "You're one of best devil hunters I know, and we could always use the help." He winked at her, ignoring the odd anxiety in his chest. "Who knows," He said with a shrug. "You might even get me to pay the pills."

She laughed. "Why am I not surprised."

"You'll have to get used to pizza too."

"Once a week." She said. "And only if you give me a kitchen to work with."

"You cook?"

"I've had a lot of free time on my hands," She said. "I might even make you a cake if you're a good boy."

Dante chuckled. "No promises."

She smiled back. "Of course not."

The two watched each other with relaxed smiles for at least a minute before Dante realized his heart was hammering in his chest. Was this how Vergil felt when he fell in love with Ashira? Or was Dante simply on edge with everything that was going on? He didn't know, and as he tentatively placed a hand on her hip, he realized he didn't care. "Afraid I'm all out of roses," He said.

"Tragic, truly." Her fingers ran along the sleeve of his coat with just enough pressure that the leather alone almost made him shiver.

"I could figure something else out," He said, pulling her a little bit closer. "Maybe a kiss on the cheek?"

Her answer was a gentle kiss on his cheek that was over before he even realized it was happening. This time, her smile turned coy. "Maybe," she said with a shrug. "I've always been more of a flower girl. Don't see many of those on the island."

He brushed his hand through her bangs. "I'll find you as many as you want."

"I like that idea."

Her breath was warm on his lips. He hadn't realized they'd gotten any closer. His head spun. His heart was racing. Air seemed difficult to grasp, but he managed it anyway. Dante tilted his head with a small smile. "I could come up with something now," He said. "To tide you over until we get home."

Her head leaned the opposite way as one of her hands slid over his shoulder. "Now we're talking."

Suddenly, she gasped in pain, her heart dropping to her stomach. Dante grabbed her in a panic. "Lucia," He said as he held her up. "What's wrong."

"I…" her words were cut by a sharp cry as her knees buckled. He fell with her, making sure she didn't hit the ground. "I don't know. Something's…"

"She's going to die."

Dante whipped his head around. Lir stood in the doorway, his eyes downcast, not looking at either of them. "What?" Dante said.

"The poison," Lir whispered. "It'll kill her."

Dante lurched forward. Claws tore through the boy's shirt as he yanked him forward. "What did you do?"

A tear fell down the teen's cheek. "What I had to."

With a roar, Dante threw him back, shattering the glass door between them. He heard Alice shriek, but he didn't care as he spun toward Lucia and forced his demon away. "Hold on," He said as he pulled her into his arms. Her eyes turned glossy as her lips hung open. He couldn't hear her breathing. Couldn't hear her heart. "Lucia," He said, shaking her. "Please don't…"

"You can save her," Lir's voice whispered behind him. "If she were to… become a demon arm… then…"

He didn't want to listen. Didn't want to trust a reaver that must have killed his own kind. Why else would their souls be missing? But as Lucia slowly died in his arms, he realized he didn't have a choice. "Lucia," He said. "Become a Devil Arm for me. You can do that, right?" He recognized the desperation in his voice, but he pushed on anyway. "Please, Luce. I can save us both." He took her hand into his and pulled her up to press their foreheads together. "I know you can."

She shuddered, and for a long moment, Dante wondered if she couldn't hear him. Then her body began to glow. Dante buried his head into her shoulder, feeling for her mind - her soul, he realized - as he had every weapon before her. This wasn't the same as all the others. He hadn't defeated her in combat or had any intention of locking her away. And he prayed that feeling was enough.

He nearly sobbed with relief when she vanished and two, long, curved daggers appeared in his hand. But the second they did, pain shot through every vein in his body. He collapsed forward, heaving nothing as fire burned to his core. Confusion crippled him as the agony only intensified. His demonic side should have quelled it by now. It healed everything. Stabs to the gut. A slice through the heart. Demonic magic. Everything.

Why wasn't it driving this out?

Why wasn't he recovering?

A woman's voice chuckled behind him. "Good," She said. He tried to push himself up. Tried to throw himself at whoever it was. Or trigger. Or do… anything. But his body crumbled to the ground, disoriented. He heard Lucia's voice in his mind, but not the words she was saying. "Go, Azalea," She said. "Stop the girl."

"As you wish," Lir whispered.

No. Dante thought. Ashira. His lungs constricted, all air gone. The pain was more than he'd ever experienced before. "The poison has already taken root," the woman continued. "And it can only be dispelled by one thing." She chuckled as a hand pressed to his back. "Go, Son of Sparda. Kill your brother, and bring me his heart. Only then will you be free."

His demon roared within him, but it was more a screech of agony than anything else. Kill him. It said, frantic. We must kill him. We must. We must. Kill… The words repeated in an endless, desperate loop. Dante tried to force it down, but it overpowered his senses. The next second, he was falling into the darkness. The woman's triumphant laughter was all that followed.

When Ashira reached her room, she held back a wave of tears. Of course Dante would have thought to get a special room just for her and Vergil. A single, king-sized bed with the softest of comforters, a shower big enough for half a dozen people, a view over the ocean, and a dozen strawberry-scented candles. And she didn't blame him one bit for it. If everything had gone to plan, Dante would probably be teasing his brother over it right now. But all it did at that moment was drag her to the floor. Shadow appeared, pawing her knees with a concerned purr.

"Hey Princess," Griffon said, his voice quiet as he appeared on the floor. "You know it's gonna be alright, yeah?" Ashira pulled her knees to her chest. Everything within her wanted to say yes, but no words came out. Shadow curled up at her feet, head on her own paws. Griffon hopped onto Ashira's knee. "Well…" He said. "We're here for ya. If that means anything."

A knock on the door pulled her away. "Shy?" Nico said. Griffon titled his head. Ashira just nodded. "Doors unlocked!" Griffon yelled. Ashira didn't look up. Griffon hopped off her knee and nestled in beside her. She heard the lock click after the door closed, and felt Nico settle in beside her. "Long day, huh?" She said. Ashira nodded. Still, no words came. Her mind was blank and her eyes ached. At least her demon self had fought off the inevitable headache. "It's okay," Nico said. Ashira flinched as the woman's arm landed over her shoulder, but didn't pull away. "It's going to be okay."

"You don't know that."

"I do," Nico said. "Because this family of ours always figures this stuff out. This ain't gonna be any different."

"I need to go to him," Ashira whispered. "I need…"

"You need to sleep," Nico said. "And I ain't leaving here until you do."

Ashira thought she should scoff at that. Only silence followed. "Come on," Nico said tugging gently on her arm. Ashira let Nico pull her to her feet as Shadow shifted to the bed. Griffon did the same, landing on the free pillow. "I brought this for ya," Nico said as she finally coaxed Ashira onto the bed. In her hand was Vergil's coat, the one she had worn for the sake of his argument. How silly it had been then…

She bit back another round of tears as she reached for it. Nico pulled it away with a quiet tut. "Blanket only."

For a moment, Ashira considered her options. Was she strong enough to leave now? She could go back to Pythagoras, find the throne, talk to Vergil (or, more likely, his demon) and convince him to take it. But would that be enough?

They need a Queen.

They need you.

Slowly, she fell to her side and set her glasses aside. As soon as Nico threw his coat over, Shadow nuzzled against Ashira's stomach and Griffon next to her head. She let a tear fall again as she closed her eyes. They were warm. They would protect her. He was here… even if he wasn't.

I miss you.

"I'm gonna stay right over here, 'kay?" Nico said. Ashira heard a chair creak nearby, but didn't bother looking. Within minutes, Nico's snores echoed throughout the room. Ashira curled tighter, pulling the coat closer to her skin as she waited in the darkness for sleep to take her.

Eventually, it was Shadow's soft purrs that pulled her under, though it was slow and borderline painful. And when her eyes opened again, she was sitting in the grass of their old home, looking over the lake she hadn't seen in years. Exhausted and numb to the world, Ashira stared out over it, trying to remember what things had been like back then. She would almost call it a "simpler time", but certainly not fulfilling. Not like their lives were now.

"I don't want to lose you." She whispered.

And hand rested on hers. "You won't," Vergil said softly.

Tears overwhelmed her. This time, she didn't try to stop them. She lurched into his arms, expecting to fall right through. But he caught her, hands sliding along the curve of her spine, and pulling her as close to him as he could. "I'm sorry, Vergil," she said as she buried her face into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked, and she gave up on speaking.

She felt his lips brush her cheek. "Me too, Shira."

Her eyes snapped open as she jerked upright. Griffon yelped as he was thrown off the bed, but hopped back up quickly, annoyed but unharmed. Nico was still asleep in her chair, arms flopped over the sides. Ashira took a deep breath and look out the window as she brushed her cheek., He had felt so real… like their dreams always were. Was he sleeping wherever he was? Dreaming of her?

Her eyes drifted back to the moon as her sadness shifted to determined resolve. She had to find him. She had to go back into the Underworld and convince him to take the throne. Convince his demon to accept her. She didn't know how, but she had to try.

A surge of demonic power and the roar of Dante's demon startled Nico awake. Ashira moved on instinct, leaping from the balcony before the woman had a chance to stop her. Griffon swooped overhead as Shadow sprinted a few feet ahead. Ashira reached for her flames as she searched for Dante's soul.

Ashira felt Lir before she saw him. She jerked to the left as she threw her feathers up to deflect him. But Lir bulldozed right through, throwing her to the ground. Green vines erupted from the sand, wrapping around her limbs. Ashira shrieked as she tried to yank herself away. The vines tore through her skin as another one shot up around her neck. Blood seeped into the sand as she struggled. The last vine wrapped tighter around her neck. Her vision swam with darkness. Fury swept through her as she let herself fall into darkness. The Phoenix overtook her, burning the vines to dust. She surged forward blindly, reaching for her attacker. A cry of pain echoed back as she slammed the human body to the ground. Her eyes snapped open as she summoned every feather she could.

She froze when her eyes met Lir's. His cheeks were red with tears. His lips blue from the lack of oxygen. He stared up at her in a mixture of anger and terror. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

"Ms. Ashira!"

Ashira jerked backward, dispelling her demon form. Everything went dark as Griffon landed on her shoulder. "Glasses are broken," He muttered. Ashira didn't care at the moment, her eyes locked on the two reaver souls in front of her. Lir was alive, but the line of grief on his soul was now a crack that reached in all directions.

"What's happening?" She said, her voice quiet. "What have you done?"

The crack expanded. His soul would not survive much longer. "I didn't have a choice," Lir whispered. "She made me kill my family… made me hang the others…" His voice broke. The crack deepened. "I had to save Alice… I didn't have a choice."

"Azalea," Ashira whispered.

A sob broke from Lir's lips, but he said nothing more.