I dash across the foyer to my brother the very instant he yelps out in pain after having stepped on his own tail. It's almost as if he wasn't aware of the slender appendage, though I can't recall him ever having a tail in either of his Trigger forms from before. The addition is certainly surprising, along with the fact that he had managed to awaken without needing to be run through with Rebellion, and now he's hurt himself twice because of it. No cry of pain comes as he lands squarely on his tail right as I reach him, instead his entire form goes slack while his demonic features start to revert back to that of his human form.

Letting my own Trigger form revert I kneel beside my brother's unconscious form and frown when the process seems to halt for him, leaving him with claws, fangs, wings and a tail. It quickly becomes evident that it is not just him stuck in a sort of partial Trigger state because when my own demonic energy seems to stabilize I am left with the exact same demonic features. It is worrying since this had never happened to us before, but then again we had been considerably older when we had first awakened. Could it be that our current bodies are unable to handle the demonic blood being active and is causing this partial transformation? As much as I want to scrutinize this Dante is the more pressing concern, especially since our clothes have reformed on us and he is unable to accommodate his extra appendages.

Footsteps echo from down the hallway as I gently roll Dante over onto his stomach, leathery crimson wings tucked to his sides, and quickly assess his clothes. His shirt has thankfully slid up on its own to allow for his wings but the pants are more problematic, having trapped his tail, which could possibly be broken with how he had landed on it. I have precious little time to make sure that he hasn't broken it before his regenerative abilities kick in so I shred the seat of his pants with my claws right as mother and father reach the foyer.

Mother gives a strangled gasp as she catches sight of us, possibly misconstruing what I am doing at first glance, but father stops her with a softly spoken, "Eva, wait." I spare them a brief look, mother's lips turned down into a severe frown while father is unsurprisingly curious, then return my attention to Dante and carefully pull his crimson-scaled tail out.

"Dante has never had a tail in either of his Trigger forms before." It is perhaps easier to start there and at the same time draw mother's focus onto our remaining inhuman features. "So he not only managed to step on it but also landed on it directly." I examine the appendage from spaded-tip to base, painstakingly feeling for even the most minuscule of breakage through touch alone. The task is made more difficult by the fact that my brother is unconscious, limiting my ability to assess the extent of the damage if there is any. I can only hope that our sturdier nature has mitigated or even outright prevented such an injury, but there will be no certainty of it until Dante wakes up. "While we do have phenomenal regenerative capabilities I do not trust them to heal every bit of damage we incur perfectly."

I spare them both another glance when they remain silent, mother's scowl tempered by an expression of understanding while father still has that air of curiosity. "My own initial form also lacked a tail and I suspect that having forced our demonic blood out of dormancy so early has not only impacted the appearance of our forms but is much too strong for us to be able to fully revert back." At least this time my tail isn't protruding from the middle of my spine, which had been rather interesting. "It would seem that Dante still has an incredible amount of luck," I remark as I let go of his tail, unable to find anything that would suggest a serious injury, and lean back so that I'm sitting almost seiza. There is a twinge of discomfort from my own trapped tail, something I remedy without a second thought in regards to the presence of our parents.

"I will call the tailors tomorrow morning and see if they can come make some alterations," mother says wearily after a few seconds. Her resignation is clear, our sudden physical changes something that she is left with no choice but to accept. It will take her longer, if ever, to accept that we are mentally older. As for my admission that had brought us to this precise moment, I know by the way that she looks at me that she wants to say something.

"I was eighteen and naïve enough to think myself untouchable, especially when it came to humans. They were weak, after all, and what could they possibly do to me, the half-demon son of the fabled Legendary Dark Knight? That it had happened at all had been a shock and, yes, I had been ashamed, but that quickly turned to anger and fear. Anger at myself for the fact that it had happened, that I had, in some way, been too weak to stop it, and fear that if this could happen to me then it could also happen to Dante." I cast my gaze back down at his still form, my fingers flexing briefly before I curl my hands into fists while my tail lashes behind me. "Why leave it out when it obviously had such an impact on me? Far worse things are to come and I felt it unnecessary to bring the matter up when it won't happen again as I have no intention of going anywhere near Fortuna and the Order of the Sword sycophants."

Mother gives a shuddering sort of inhale and leans into father for support, tears in her eyes as her expression twists with a new kind of grief. "Vergil…" Her voice trails off, pained and confused by my decision to leave this out until Dante had started prodding me in regards to Nero, and the look that she gives me is definitely wounded.

"Let me rephrase that; I have had twenty-five years to come to terms with it and discussing it further will only serve to upset you even more." To be more correct I had only come to terms with everything more recently through my bisection and through V's existence, but it was something that had been there throughout all those years, except the decade I had been dead. That time was completely lost to me, rather it was as if it simply didn't exist at all. There had been no sense of awareness in death, nothing to grasp on to, and I am only bothered by it for the simple fact of it being ten years that are just gone. Ten years that Dante had to live through while I had ceased to be.

Exhaustion comes over me with little warning, and for a few seconds I'm confused as to why I'm tired as I fight off a yawn. Even though I have Triggered hundreds of times before this had been the first time for my current body and the initial Trigger always consumes a lot of energy. The realization hits me as my eyelids droop and I start to tip forward, just barely catching myself from toppling over onto Dante. It is a struggle to stay upright, let alone awake, and as I start to fall over again it is into blackness.

I dream of nothingness, a vast gaping maw of blackness that just stretches on and on as far as the eye can see. It is neither warm nor cold, just a sense of being without touch, taste, smell and sound. It is disconcerting, yet almost as soon as I am aware of it the dream is gone and I am waking up encased in warmth. A very much alive warmth that is Dante.

He has decided to cling to me in his sleep, head tucked under my chin, legs tangled with my own, and a wing curled over my hip. My tail gives a twitch and it too has been entangled by my brother, his having entwined itself tightly around the last several inches of mine. There is little I can do to extract myself from our otherwise intimate position, and I honestly don't want to. It's been far too long since I've gotten to hold Dante so I stay put and bask in his warmth.

My brother starts to stir after several minutes, face nuzzling into my neck while he gives a sleepy purr. It doesn't last because Dante stiffens the moment he is fully awake and aware of his surroundings, his tail trying to lash to no avail. For several breathless seconds he does nothing and then he tries to push away only to find himself rather stuck. "Let me go!"

There is a sort of desperation to his voice, along with panic, and I can see that he doesn't even realize that he now has a few extra limbs to account for. "You have a wing wrapped around me," I say in a soft tone as I meet his frightened gaze. How odd it is that he looks so scared, but it is quickly replaced by confusion and disbelief. "We did not fully revert from our Trigger forms and were left with a few of our more demonic features."