"Uh-oh."
Nero's head snapped up at the muttered word from the front of the van. He swung forward and braced himself against the back of the driver's seat as Nico eased off the acceleration. "What's uh-oh? Is there more mud?" They'd lost half an hour that morning trying to wrangle the unwieldy vehicle through a particularly slippery patch on the broken road that wove up the side of Mount Lamina. Six years without maintenance had made the single-lane track even more treacherous than it had been in the days of the Order, when rampant Frosts had left it covered in perpetual ice.
Nico engaged the van's parking brake and pointed through the windscreen. "Looks like our old pal is back."
A dozen paces in front of the van, a lone Frost meandered across the road with an unsteady gait. Its tail dragged listlessly behind, leaving a trail of ice crystals on the damp earth. Nico laid on the horn, and the Frost swung its head to stare at them. The crystalline face was colorless and dull.
Nero swore under his breath. "Perfect. Just what we need, the Nilepoch showing up right when we're about to kick Lauda's ass."
Lady's motorcycle veered around the van and rumbled to a halt beside the driver's door. She waited for Nico to roll down the side window. "It looks pretty weak," she called. "We could just drive through it and keep going."
"We could," Nero agreed. "I sure wish we had a way to track this bastard, though. If the Nilepoch is feeding up here, we could end up trapped between it and Lauda's army of Angelos. If things at the castle go south, that'll leave us with nowhere to fall back."
He heard a snort from somewhere behind his left shoulder. Even if he hadn't known that Vergil was seated beside the jukebox, Nero would have recognized the sound of derision. "Are you planning on being defeated?"
"I like to leave my options open," Nero shot back. "Especially when we don't know what the hell we're up against."
Vergil didn't reply, and Nero leaned toward the open window again. "We're not far from the castle now, so I guess our odds of running into the Nilepoch between here and there are probably pretty slim," he called to Lady. "But keep your eyes open, just in case."
"Copy that. I'll keep following you."
While they talked, Nico had been drumming a thoughtful tattoo on the steering wheel with her fingernails. Suddenly she jerked upright. "Hey! I just had an idea!"
Nero and Lady stared at her expectantly. "Well?" he prompted when she didn't elaborate.
"Hold yer horses, I'm workin' out the details."
Lady walked her motorcycle back a few steps as the Frost finally seemed to take notice of her. Her hand fell over the holster strapped to the handlebars. "Not to rush you, but we do have pressing business," she called.
"Okay, okay, listen up. Y'know how before, the Nilepoch kept comin' back to feed on the demons it'd already zapped? Like that one we had caged up in the lab?"
"Yes." Nero glanced back as Trish abandoned her magazine and came forward to join their conversation. "What about it?"
"Well, it seems to me that this lil' ice cube got zapped not that long ago."
Trish bent to squint through the windshield. "That's most likely correct. The other ones I've observed all recovered their movement speed within a couple of hours, and this one still appears to be staggered."
"So if the Nilepoch is gonna come back an' feed on this guy again, we can use that to control it!" Nico beamed at them, clearly waiting to be praised for her brilliance.
Nero exchanged a look with Lady through the side window. "Uh, I'm not exactly following you."
Nico gave an exasperated growl. "Look. You all bail out o' the van right here. It's not far to the castle, an' I'm not gonna be much good against them demon robot thingies anyway. I load up Frosty Boy here in the back o' the van an' drive him back down the mountain, maybe way out on the coast highway someplace, an' roll him out the back doors where he ain't gonna be a danger to nobody. Then when the Nilepoch pops back into this time zone or whatever, 'stead o' showin' up right on yer asses, it'll pop up out in the middle o' nowhere! Could buy us some time before we have to deal with it again."
Lady pondered the suggestion as she watched the Frost wander toward her. "You know, that could actually work. We don't know for certain it'll keep going after the same prey like before, but there's no reason to assume it wouldn't."
Nero frowned. "I don't know. It's awfully dangerous, Nico. If that thing gets its strength back while it's in the van with you…"
"Who d'ya think yer dealin' with?" Nico whipped a gleaming .45 revolver out of the holster she'd built into the side of the driver's seat. "I got a rear-view mirror, ain't I? Damn thing ain't gonna get the drop on me."
"Even with a mirror, it'll be behind your seat. The angle's bad."
Nico spun the revolver by the trigger guard and snapped it to a halt with the barrel pointing at Nero's face. "Do I need to give a demonstration of my pistol skills?"
He reflexively ducked and smacked the gun out of line. "Damn it, Nico, you know better than to point that thing at—"
"Aw, relax, it ain't even cocked," she drawled. "Besides, if Frosty Boy tries anythin', he's gonna get the brake check from hell. That'll bring him right up into my line o' sight." She slapped the dashboard.
Nero sighed and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. It's your ass; risk it if you want." He collected Red Queen and checked the spare Devil Breakers at his hip. "Sounds like we're on foot from here on out."
Trish and Vergil followed him out of the van. As they came around to Lady's side of the vehicle, Nico tossed down a handheld radio. "Here. Keep in touch so I know when to come pick you up an' where to meet you. An' maybe try not to vaporize this one?" She glared at Nero.
He rolled his eyes and passed the handset to Lady, who clipped it to her belt. "Sure. I'll put that right at the top of my priority list, right above 'try not to die.'"
It took only a few well-placed punches to incapacitate the drained Frost. Nico wound half a roll of duct tape around its limbs to keep it docile in transit, and then Nero and Trish tossed it none too gently into the back of the van. They waved a halfhearted farewell as Nico began making the precarious multi-point turn to reorient the vehicle for downhill driving.
Lady turned off her motorcycle and dismounted. "If we're going in on foot anyway, I guess there's no point in advertising our presence with the sound of a 750cc engine coming up the hill."
Nero shrugged. "I'm willing to bet Lauda already knows we're on the way."
"He does," Vergil said, at precisely the same moment that Trish said, "That's a bet you'd win." They exchanged irritated looks before Trish pointed to a rocky outcrop high above them. The glint of sunlight on metal was visible for just a moment before something streaked away toward Lamina Peak.
"Scouts," Trish explained. "I've sensed them at intervals ever since we started up the mountain."
"Well, we weren't relying on the element of surprise, anyway," Nero sighed. "Guess we'd better get moving before he has any more time to prepare for our visit."
"Oh, he's well prepared," Vergil said. "He's been prepared since before he sent his minions to provoke you by destroying your house. He's no doubt anxiously awaiting our arrival so he can have an audience to rave to about his own cunning genius."
Trish arched an eyebrow. "Hmm. Now, who else do we know who has that same bad habit?"
With a snort of laughter, Lady took a wider stance, mimicking Vergil's posture, and lowered her voice. "I've been waiting, brother."
Trish mirrored her pose. "I've been standing at the top of the stairs for over an hour just so I can look down upon you as you enter, brother."
"You have disappointed me by arriving later than expected, based on my estimate of how long it would take you to do the shopping, brother."
"I anticipated that you would again fail to buy vegetables even though I specifically put them on the grocery list, brother."
Nero bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud. He sneaked a glance at Vergil, who was massaging the bridge of his nose with one hand and gripping the Yamato with more than usual force. "Okay, okay," Nero said, barely keeping the mirth from his voice. "Let's get a move on before Lauda decides to come down here to gloat at us."
The remainder of the trek up the mountain was relatively short, but the track was steep and poorly-surfaced. Nero was glad they hadn't had to climb the entire way; the footing on the slopes was loose and treacherous. With fewer Frosts to keep the mountain's climate below freezing year-round, the thawed earth had fallen away in mudslides, whittling the path to little more than a ribbon along the cliff. Even without Nico's harebrained plan, they would have had to abandon the van to make the final ascent.
After half an hour and a good deal of inching along cliff faces and leaping over gaps in the path, the hunters came within view of a broad plain dotted with broken columns and stone arches—all that remained of a grand colonnaded garden that had once framed the bridge to the castle's gates. This late in the year, patches of frost clung to the mountain soil, recalling the heavy snow and ice that had blanketed the mountaintop just a few years ago.
Trish pointed out over the garden plateau. "Looks like the welcoming committee's ready for us."
Nero scanned the handful of Bianco Angelos perched on the few intact columns, their lances held at the ready. "Yeah, I figured Lauda would have something waiting. Surprised there aren't more of them, though."
"The rest are likely inside with Lauda. He'll want to finish this fight himself, but I wouldn't put it past him to try to wear us down before we reach him."
"Wear us down? This is barely enough for a warm-up." Nero crouched to look over the steep drop that terminated the mountain path. "There used to be a bridge here, but it kinda got destroyed on my last visit. We'll have to jump down." He glanced back at the only fully-human member of the party. "Lady, can you make that drop okay?"
Lady peered over the edge. "Not without breaking something. But if I can find a sturdy place to attach my grappling hook, I can rappel down."
"No need." Vergil stepped up beside them. "I'll make a path."
Lady stared at him. "How exactly are you going to—"
He ignored the question. "Stand well back."
Lady started to say something more, but Nero quickly caught her arm and pulled her away. Almost simultaneously, Vergil winked out of space and reappeared just below the edge of the cliff. The Yamato flashed out of its sheath and strobed back and forth as gravity exerted its pull on his body.
When the dust cleared, they saw that the cliff face had been carved into a series of sloping planes—not square enough to be considered steps, but certainly easier to navigate than a vertical rock wall.
Lady peered down at Vergil, who was rising from his landing crouch far below them, then shot a look back at Nero. "This is getting creepy. That's the second helpful thing Vergil has done for me in two days. Did you drug him or something?"
Nero chuckled. "Nope. I think he just decided to experiment with being less of an asshole."
"Interesting. Any idea what prompted that change?"
Nero had a reasonably good guess, but it was part of a larger development that he wasn't ready to put into words. He simply shrugged.
"Well, it's weird, but I guess it's an improvement. Let's hope it sticks." Lady knelt and swung herself down to the first of the new platforms. "Meet you down there."
Nero hopped off the edge and fell freely to the plateau below, absorbing the impact of his landing with soft knees. Trish touched down behind him a second later. When Lady reached their level, Trish reached behind her back for Luce and Ombra. "So. Anyone calling dibs, or is this a free-for-all?"
Nero flashed a grin. "Eh, these guys are small fry. Let's just finish them off quick and get to the main event."
The hunters exploded into action, and the former garden became a riot of gunfire and flying blades. Within minutes, all of the constructs had fallen to their assault, and a few more columns lay in heaps of crumbled stone.
Lady surveyed the damage as she reloaded her pistol. "You know, it's too bad this place was ruined by the Order. Might have made a decent tourist attraction."
Nero snorted. "As much as Fortuna could use the economic boost, I have a feeling the tourist trade would taper off after a few visitors got killed by stray demons."
"I don't know; you could always advertise that as a feature. I mean, rich scumbags pay big money to shoot endangered species in Africa, right? I'm sure some wealthy idiot out there would consider a guided demon hunt the pinnacle of sport."
"True. And no great loss to the world if the demons win every once in a while." Nero jerked his head toward the castle. "But speaking of scumbags, we've got a big one to take care of before we make any plans to revitalize Fortuna's economy."
Lady adjusted Kalina Ann's strap over her shoulder. "We're right behind you."
Nero led the way across the bridge and stared up at the imposing iron-banded doors. Six years and a world of change had flown by since he'd first pushed these doors open. Back then, he'd still been in the Holy Knights, chasing after Dante on Credo's orders. He couldn't have imagined that by the end of that day he would have seen Kyrie kidnapped, Credo murdered, and a man he thought his mortal enemy become a close ally.
He certainly wouldn't have guessed that those events would ultimately lead him to finding his own family.
Vergil stepped up beside him. "Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"
"Pretty sure Lauda's idea of invitation-engraving was blowing out the front of my house." Nero shifted his weight and kicked, and the massive doors swung inward.
The castle's entrance was situated in the shadow of the mountain peak, so it took only a moment for their eyes to adjust to the vast candlelit space within. Along both sides of the great hall were stationed rows of Bianco Angelos, standing at attention with lances in hand. Mirroring their positions along the upper balcony were nearly a full squadron of Alto Angelos. At the far end, the wall Nero had once crashed a chandelier through had been roughly patched. Instead of a massive portrait of Sanctus, a crude painting of a purple-robed Lauda now hung over the uneven stonework.
Nero strode into the hall with confidence, despite the gauntlet of Angelos on either side. Vergil marched beside him, with Lady and Trish a step behind, covering their flank. As they crossed the floor, none of the Angelos moved, but Nero could feel the pressure of someone's gaze upon him. He stopped halfway across the room and turned.
Standing in the gallery directly above the door through which they had entered, arms open in a beatific pose, was Lauda himself.
"Guess we didn't need to map this whole place out after all," Nero murmured. "Should have known he'd have set up camp in the showiest room."
"You can always bank on your enemy's arrogance to make things easier," Trish agreed.
They subtly rearranged their positions, with Nero taking point again. He was Lauda's primary target, and he knew Lauda wouldn't hesitate to go through the others to reach him.
"So," Lauda opened at last, his voice booming through the high-ceilinged room, "you have finally come."
Something primal in Nero urged him to leap up and go for Lauda's throat straightaway, but they were flanked by a double row of Angelos, and there were still too many unknown variables for him to charge in blind. "I see you've redecorated." Nero jerked his head toward the Bianco Angelos. "I can't say I care for the new furniture."
"Ah, Nero." Lauda's theatrical sigh resonated through the hall. "You always were incapable of speaking without sarcasm. A telling mark of small-mindedness."
"I can be serious when I want to." Nero's eyes narrowed. "In fact, after everything you've done, I'm planning some serious redecoration of my own. Starting with your face."
"How you disappoint me, Nero. Always reverting to your base instincts, and failing to take the circumstances into account. Perhaps I misjudged you, thinking you had masterminded that foul scheme against the Order. Believing you capable of such a feat of strategy was a gross overestimation of your intellect."
"Right. While we're on the subject of overestimation, let's talk about that pathetic crew you sent to attack my house. Did you really think a dozen of these things were enough to finish me off?"
Lauda's self-satisfied chuckle raised the hair on Nero's arms. "Your pathetic bluster cannot conceal the truth from me. I know precisely how that encounter went. Haven't you realized by now that I am always watching?"
"If he's had scouts monitoring us all along, he knows every move we've made," Lady murmured. "Do you think he's got eyes on Kyrie and the kids, too?"
Nero couldn't think about that just now. He needed to focus on this mission.
"In any case," Lauda went on, "that little visit was never intended to kill you, Nero—it was merely the bell sounding to call you to the ring. Even so, not only did my loyal troops deliver my regards as intended, I happen to know that they very nearly did finish you off. If not for your friend here—" His eyes flicked briefly toward Vergil, and his expression darkened. "—your life would have been completely in my hands."
What he claimed was true, and the knowledge was unsettling. "At least I have friends," Nero retorted. "I don't have to resort to manufacturing minions out of the Order's leftovers to keep from being alone in the world."
Lauda's chin rose again. "I am more powerful alone than you have ever been. You see, Nero, you have never had the opportunity to forge true strength, because all your life, you have been sheltered and protected—by the sisters, by Credo, by your rebel allies, by this sorry group of companions who surround you now. You have never possessed the power necessary to protect even yourself, let alone anyone else. All you can do is depend on others to save you."
A sour feeling swirled in Nero's stomach. Beside him, Vergil's grip on the Yamato tightened.
It was Trish who broke the stifling atmosphere. "But isn't that the real strength?" she called. "Having someone to stand with you? Having others share in your victories, and help you when you need it? Even the weak can become unbreakable when they band together and support each other." She cocked her head at the man in the gallery. "It's not like anyone is going to mourn you when you're gone, Lauda."
"There will never be a call for such mourning," Lauda declared. "With the power I now wield, I shall be invincible!"
Nero rolled his eyes so hard they ached. "And so the pontification begins," Vergil groaned beside him.
Nero reached for his sword. "Then let's shut him up before he can use up all the oxygen in the room."
Seeing Nero's movement, Lauda spread his hands to indicate the ranks of Angelos on either side. "Foolish boy! If you start a fight here, you have no chance to win—my army will see to that."
"Aw, don't tell me you've had a change of heart and are just gonna let me walk away now?"
"Of course not. But I didn't bring you here to kill you, Nero. That will not happen until you have seen the true Order reborn, and the glorious return of Lord Sparda on this earth! Only then will you truly realize how futile your struggles were, and how soundly you have been defeated!"
"Even if Sparda did come back, you wouldn't even make his greeting card list," Nero shot back. "The best someone like you could hope to get from him is his sword through one of your vital organs."
"And once again, you reveal your lack of understanding. Sparda's light already resides within me. I am to be the glorious vessel for his return! Not an empty shell like the Savior; no, this time, the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda will manifest in the perfect body—a body made whole and prepared by his own power!" As Lauda spoke the final words, he threw back the deep violet mantle that he wore, revealing a modified Order officer's uniform with light ceremonial armor polished to a mirror finish. Nero had to admit, he did cut a striking figure, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the mad glint in his eyes.
Vergil raised his voice. "The power within you is not of Sparda. It's an insult to his name even to suggest that such crude, malignant energy could originate with him."
Lauda bristled. "And what would you know of such things? How dare you claim to know more of Sparda than I, his chosen vessel!"
"Oh, he knows," Nero said. "Trust me, he knows."
With visible effort, Lauda regained control of his temper. "No matter. You will witness soon enough the true power of Sparda, when I bring a new order to this world. The suffering of the common man will cease—though your suffering, I'm afraid, is only just beginning." He gestured with his hand, and one of the Bianco Angelos a short distance from Nero moved forward and reached for him. "Come with me, Nero, and I will show you the world that is to come: The true kingdom of Sparda!"
The construct had barely completed a step before its head exploded in a ball of flame. Nero turned to see the business end of Kalina Ann smoking just off his near shoulder. "Sorry," Lady called, sounding anything but. "All this inane babbling about the power of Sparda and new world orders is kind of bringing back some unpleasant memories for me, so can we skip to the part where we derail your nefarious plan and destroy everything you've committed unspeakable atrocities to accomplish?"
"Irreverent wench!" Lauda's eyes flashed. "You will listen when I speak!" A barrier of incandescent power shimmered into place just inside the rows of Bianco Angelos, separating the hunters not only from the constructs, but also the hall's various exits. Another scrim of energy spread over the front of the gallery, shielding Lauda himself.
"Well, damn," Nero sighed. "There goes our mute button."
"If you will not attend me willingly, I will force you to hear," Lauda snapped. He collected himself and paced a few steps across the gallery before launching into his speech. "After losing the use of my leg, it took years of suffering and months of experimentation before I realized that my injury was merely a signpost, guiding me toward my true calling. Utilizing secret arcane research I discovered deep in the bowels of this castle, I was able to restore my body—not just to its original form, but to a heightened, purer existence…"
Trish, pointedly ignoring Lauda, tested the barrier beside them with a couple of rounds from Ombra. The bullets plopped harmlessly into the shield. "Well, so much for finishing this quickly." She replaced the pistol in the invisible storage space behind her hip and produced a nail file from somewhere equally impossible to determine. "How long do you think he'll run on?"
Lady squinted at the barrier, her human eyes struggling to make out the perimeter of the arcane shield. "It covers everything in here?"
"Not full coverage, but definitely enough to slow us down if we were hoping to clear out all these enemies in one go." Trish blew lightly across the nail she was smoothing. "We might be able to get someone around the edge of it if we split up, but as quickly as Lauda put it in place, I'm sure he can expand it if we try to target any gaps. It looks as though we'll have to wait until he's finished expounding on his evil plan before we can do any real damage."
Lauda seemed to take no notice of their conversation. He continued his impassioned speech, pacing and waving his arms for emphasis. "Without souls of the willing faithful, I could only utilize the very creatures I'd set out to destroy—but then I realized that they, too, were a part of the great plan for Sparda's glorious return! After all, was not Sparda himself a demon who ascended to greatness? Therefore, these lesser demons that remained on Fortuna must themselves be a gift from Sparda! Suddenly I understood how I was meant to expand my holy army…"
"Huh." Lady had propped Kalina Ann on the floor beside her and was leaning on one end, half-listening to Lauda with glazed eyes. "I guess that's why we haven't seen much demon activity since the thing at Order Headquarters."
Nero hadn't been paying attention to Lauda's words at all. "What?"
"Apparently ever since we shut down the main hellgate, he's been farming the local demon population for souls to stick in these things." She jerked a thumb toward the Bianco Angelos.
Nero scowled. "So even when he isn't cutting into my business, he's cutting into my business."
"There must be more of that assembly equipment around here." Lady frowned. "I wonder if they're automated. It would be bad if the machines keep cranking out more armor units even after we take out Lauda. Do you know anything about them, Nero?"
He shrugged. "The ones I saw here six years ago seemed pretty much automated, but that was when Agnus was running things, so I'm sure he had a system. I don't know much about the whole soul-transferring process, though."
"I suppose we'll just have to go through this building and smash everything we find." Lady shifted her weight and yawned. "If I'd known I'd have to stand around this long, I'd have brought a camp chair."
Nero eyed the benches that had been pushed back along the outer walls of the hall, but they were well outside the barrier. "Yeah. I'm starting to wish I'd brought a sack lunch. As much as that creep loves the sound of his own voice, this could take all day."
"Perhaps." Throughout Lauda's droning speech, Vergil had been turning in a slow circle, surveying the layout. Now he stopped with his eyes fixed on the gallery. "Or perhaps we can speed things along."
Nero followed his gaze. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
Vergil wordlessly let fly a round of spectral swords. They shattered against the shield with which Lauda had protected himself. Barely-visible ripples from the impact spread from one support pillar to the other, and from the floor of the gallery to well above Lauda's head.
The direct attack finally seemed to make Lauda aware that his audience was not paying the slightest attention to anything he said. "Even now, you will not heed my inspired words?" he roared. "Listen to me!"
Nero gave a loud snort. "Wow, your memory must be even worse than I thought. I never listened to you when you were my training instructor, and I definitely didn't listen to you when you were my commanding officer. What the hell makes you think I would start paying attention to any of the crap you're saying now?"
Lauda swelled visibly, and with his rising rage came a distinct shift in power that even Nero could feel. Beside him, Vergil tensed and placed his hand on the Yamato's hilt. "Now," he ordered. "Strike quickly, before he changes!"
Nero wasn't sure where he was meant to strike—wasn't Lauda fully shielded?—but obediently reached for his weapons. Vergil's hand and sword flashed almost too swiftly for the eye to follow, and a series of slashing vacuum spheres appeared along the underside of the gallery. Suddenly, Nero understood: Lauda had positioned his barrier to block attacks aimed at the gallery where he stood, but he had done nothing to prevent the floor itself from being cut out from under him.
Stone crumbled beneath Vergil's fierce assault, and a second later the entire balcony dropped to the lower floor in pieces, effectively barricading the main door. Nero charged forward into the cloud of masonry dust, preparing to lash out at anything that moved—but when he reached the edge of the rubble, there was no sign of Lauda. Instinctively, he glanced up to see if the man had jumped to safety.
He was not prepared for the sight of what hovered above him.
The face was still Lauda's, though it was contorted in rage and pure hatred. The rest of the form had mutated beyond recognition—one leg bulged disproportionately, swollen with demonic muscle that radiated an aura of pure malice. Instead of a foot, the leg was tipped with a grasping, fearsome talon. The other three limbs retained their original shape, but bore clear hallmarks of corruption: Tendrils of inhuman flesh crawled over their surfaces, and luminous veins pulsed with demonic energy. From Lauda's back rose enormous leathery wings, likewise veined with red-violet energy streams. A bone-spiked tail extended from the base of his spine.
Nero swore fervently. He'd heard Lauda babble something about restoring his damaged leg, but he hadn't guessed that Lauda, like the rest of the Order's leadership, had managed to infuse himself with enough demonic power to transform into a demon himself. No wonder Dante had said he felt wrong.
The hunters didn't hesitate to unleash their firepower, but Lauda raised one palm and generated another shield to block their ranged attacks. "Typical," he spat. "Seeking to destroy that which your mean minds cannot comprehend, instead of worshiping in the presence of true glory. No matter; I need only Nero to witness my victory. I should have disposed of the rest of you immediately—but that is easily remedied." With a swift gesture, he dropped the barrier separating the hunters from the Bianco Angelos on their level, and the constructs moved forward. Another unit of Bianco Angelos began marching out of the doorways behind them, filling the spaces their fellows vacated.
Nero heard the others engage in combat behind him, but he kept his eyes fixed on Lauda. "Get down here and fight me like a man, Lauda!" he shouted over the sounds of combat. "Or do I have to come up there and bring you down myself?"
Lauda threw his head back and laughed—an even more sinister sound, laced as it was with the reverberation of demonic energy. "Like a man?" he chuckled. "But I am not a man any longer, Nero. I am a god!" He flung his arms out, and a wave of raw power crackled through the room in beams of red-violet light. The blast split the vaulted ceiling of the great hall down the middle, and the hunters at floor level abandoned their fight to leap out of the way of the falling masonry and crumbling arches. Several of the Bianco Angelos were not so nimble, and were crushed under tons of debris.
Nero's heart was pounding, but he maintained his cool facade. He'd been forced to roll beneath the balcony for shelter, but he tutted up at Lauda as he emerged. "Weren't you always the hard-ass lecturing us about controlling your strength when fighting? You gotta learn to contain that shit better. You're not gonna have much of an army left if you keep dropping buildings on your own guys."
Lauda laughed again. "These? These are nothing—mere pawns, crafted from the souls of the weakest demons. Had you listened properly, you would understand that these are the most primitive of tools, fit only for temporary use. After all, it is not the chisel that is of consequence, but the art—and the artist! These crude puppets will give rise to a new and glorious machine!"
Nero's stomach clenched; there was something truly deranged in Lauda's grin. "What machine?"
"A machine of war," Lauda crowed, clearly delighted that someone was finally listening to his plan. "A perfect, indomitable army, forged of true souls—not this demon scum, and not tired old souls of the willing faithful, but innocent ones, still easy to shape and mold—slates blank enough to be engraved and perfected with Sparda's glory. Truly pure souls, worthy of becoming Sparda's own instruments for the purification of this world!" He finished in a roar, eyes blazing with the strength of his own delusion. A few seconds passed before he seemed to return to himself, and he laughed as he gazed down at Nero. "Perhaps there will even be some of your lot that can be used," he taunted. "The oldest boy is already beyond hope—I saw his loyalty to you all too clearly. He must be culled. But the others, the young ones, could still be salvaged. I might as well collect them with all the rest." He beat his wings and rose higher. "Just think of it, Nero—the very institution that raised you, the architect of the Order's downfall, shall be the crucible that refines Sparda's greatest weapons. All the corruption shall be burned away!"
With a roar of blind fury, Nero leaped high into the air and slashed at Lauda's retreating form, but that barbed tail slapped his blade aside easily. Lauda flew out through the hole in the roof, followed by the dozens of Alto Angelos that had stood along the edge of the balcony.
Nero landed hard on the main floor and put his fist through the shield of a nearby Bianco Angelo, venting only a fragment of his fear and rage. "He's going after the kids!" he screamed.
"We heard," Trish called back. She was engaged in battle with a pair of constructs, and only continued speaking after she'd knocked them back a few paces. "You have to get there before him!"
"How? He's flying there as we speak!" Nero put six rounds into the face of another Angelo. At the far end of the hall, he saw more constructs emerge from a doorway; no matter how many they killed, more kept appearing from the interior of the castle. "Even if we had the van, we'd never make it in time!"
Vergil slashed laterally through the enemies surrounding him and twirled the Yamato in his hand. "Yes, we will."
Of course—Vergil could warp space! Nero started toward him, but paused as a new group of Angelos surrounded Lady and Trish, who shifted back-to-back for defense. They were outnumbered at least five-to-one, with more enemies joining the fight all the time.
Lady saw Nero's hesitation. "Go!" she shouted over the sound of her own gunfire. "We'll take care of things here, and destroy whatever's producing them. You two just get to the orphanage!"
Before Nero could argue, Vergil seized his arm. Two quick strokes of the Yamato, and an otherworldly cold seeped into the air around him. In the next moment the bleeding skin of the universe flashed past his vision, and the castle vanished.
