2070, Santo Domingo, Night City
Things were not looking good for the Martinez family. In fact, Gloria would say they were destitute. Ever since she admitted the mystery man into a clinic on the other side of town, the constant hospital fees had whittled down her savings, until they were hanging by a thread. She had expected him to awaken from his coma in a few days, weeks, or at most, a month.
It had been three months since then.
Skipping Christmas was hard on her, especially on David, but she promised him a new BD wreath as soon as the next EMT paycheck was given to her. Sighing and leaning back on her chair, she glanced at her bank account on her computer. Calculating in her head, It would seem that the next paycheck belonged to the man resting in the clinic, and the gift would have to wait.
" That man better pay up…or I don't know what else I could do..." That is if he ever woke up. The doctor hooked up an EEG machine to the comatose man and reported there were active brain waves, but regardless, he was still in a deep sleep.
"His brain waves go haywire at random. Whatever he's dreaming about, it must be intense." The doctor told her.
The readings suggested he was incredibly active on the inside, but it seemed as if something was preventing him from awakening.
" I can feed him nutrients and vitamins, anything so his body can maintain homeostasis. And I could continue to monitor him. The rest…will be up to him if I'm honest."
Lying to David was also hard. Telling him that she was paying back something she broke at work seemed to be an acceptable excuse. " But it was for the greater good and his protection," she reasoned with herself. She didn't want him exposed to the mystery man's situation, whatever it could be. The fewer people knew, the lesser the chance a Corpo or the man's family would catch wind of their project's/members whereabouts. The only person who would be in a megacorps sightline was her, and the doctor she paid extra eddies to be silent.
Now she was second-guessing herself. Her bank account was at an all-time low, power and water turning off at random intervals to save money, and she had cut down her meals to a mere container of eezybeef per day. She didn't know how long it would take for him to awaken, or how much longer she could take living like this. Part of her even hated herself for going through with this half-baked plan. Still, she had faith that the plan would all work out. It had to. For her and for David's sake. It was all she had left to believe in.
The door opened and her little boy, now at the age of twelve, walked in, a frown apparent on his face.
" Hola, Mijo, how was your day?" she gave a tired smile at him. David threw his backpack on the couch and sat across from Gloria, crossing his arms in front of him and lying down on the table, face down.
"...izwaight." In a tone that did not imply that things were all right. Gloria knew all his mannerisms well and knew something was irking her son.
"...Is there something the matter, Mijo? You can tell your mom, you know," she responded, reaching out and touching his arm with her hand. David pulled away and got up. Walking to the window, he glared out to the streets below, then faced his mother.
"I'm tired of livin' like this mom! Tired of havin' nothing but eezybeef and vending slop day in and day out! Tired of seeing you like this too!" He vented, gesturing at her with open arms. Gloria blinked, and looked to her left where a full body mirror was standing. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and heavy bags were drooping from them. Her hair was frayed, ponytail loosely and poorly done. Her lips were cracked, dry as a desert.
In other words, she looked like shit.
"Oh Dee…don't worry about me…did you want to eat out somewhere today? I can work extra hours tomorrow to make up for it…" David's composure broke after she spoke and he slumped down, sliding off the wall into a sitting position. Arms wrapping around himself, his fingers dug into his arms, and his right foot began to tap rapidly. His eyes rapidly focusing and unfocusing on the floor beneath him.
" Mijo?" Gloria got up from her seat, unable to take the sight of her only son breaking down due to stress, at this early age. Sitting down next to him, she embraced him, leaning her head into his and wrapping her arms around his body. David froze up at the contact, but slowly leaned into it, and the stress that accumulated in his body drained out leaving the two sitting there listening to the idle sounds of the City outside.
David exhaled, and wrapped his arms around his mother. There's no way that they could continue to live like this, he thought.
" I can't be here right now. Gotta do something about this…" David made up his mind. Unraveling himself from her grasp, he got up, and cupped her face with his hands.
"No need mom. Listen, I'm gonna go out, maybe ask around if any neighbors need some work to be done. Scrounge a few eddies up that way." he said, forcing a smile onto his face. Gloria opened her mouth to protest, but it died when she saw his expression. One of resolution and sheer will. The same face his father made once to her…
"I… Okay, Mijo. Stay safe now." She said, almost in a whisper. David smiled again, this time less forced.
"Alright. You get to bed and get some rest, kay? I'll be back. That's a promise." David walked out the door.
Gloria sat there on the floor for a while, thoughts eating away at her like rotten fruit on an anthill. Of how her carefully laid plans for David were unraveling. Of how poverty could easily sway him to a life of crime. Of how a complete stranger was sitting in the clinic, essentially taking all their money. Of how they were one paycheck away from living on the streets. Of how David still believed her lie, that she wasn't doing something as immoral as taking advantage of a comatose man. And now her little angel was taking matters into his own hands to provide for them at such a young age. She blamed herself for all of it.
She was a failure of a mother.
Pulling herself into the couch, she undid her ponytail and lay down, willing her dangerous thoughts away.
" Get some rest. Take things one step at a time. That's the first thing you can do for David."
—-
Gloria awoke to the sound of someone calling her. Groggily sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and glanced at the time-8:45 PM. Releasing a massive yawn, she frowned and lay back down.
"Mierda, who's calling me at this hour…"
Upset that her shift starts in two hours, she ignored the call and turned to her side, snuggling into the couch. Whoever they were, they could wait an hour. Fifteen seconds passed and another call came through. Gloria moaned in exasperation and sat up, mood now fully soured. Focusing on who was calling her, she nearly jumped in her seat, now fully awake at the revelation.
It was the clinic doctor.
He's never called before, and she would always have to visit to get updates on her patient's situation. The fact that he was calling her now meant one thing. She immediately put him on, heart beating faster and faster at the possibility.
"Hello doctor, is everything alright!?" she enthused, previous grogginess now bereft from her body.
"Hello. Yes, Ms. Martinez, I have news concerning your…patient."
"Is he… awake?" she hoped, grasping the pillow in her arms tighter and tighter.
"You'll be happy to find out that yes, it appears he will be waking soon. His brain waves have been spiking to levels seen in similar conditions to similar coma patients who have recovered." Gloria could not believe her ears. Three long months of nail-biting tension and long hours were about to pay off. Her plan was about to come to fruition. Once again she saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
"He should be waking soon enough."
Gloria immediately got up and redid her ponytail. Placing her jacket on, she sent a text to Esteban, telling him shes canceling her shift for tonight.
"I'll be right there!"
—-
?
"..."
"...?"
"...How long…have I been here…?" Vergil wandered through the labyrinth, eyes downcast and gaze empty. His steps echoed through the empty hallways, devoid of any other noise. The entire labyrinth was dark, as if a painter took his darkest colors, mixed them all into one vat, and threw them into the canvas. Black rocks and violet streaks, interspersed with blue ran through the ground and walls.
He'd seen this place before actually. When he was still the human V, and had to pull himself back together using his own nightmares. He didn't know what had happened but it seemed as if he was back to the same place as before, only this time the space was now filled with buildings of various architecture, most notably victorian. Ghastly spires were towering into the sky, gashing the skyline with their pointed tips and hellish ghoul-like gargoyles roaring with their stone faces carved into a scowl. On closer inspection, many buildings were carbon copies of architecture he'd seen throughout his life. Mallet island, Temen-Ni-Gru, Fortuna… and even some broken and dilapidated buildings of Red Grave city decorated the mysterious landscape.
He'd been walking ever since he'd woken up in this place. One foot in front of the other. Scenes from his past played in the many mirrors he'd encountered.
"...Mother, Dante won't give me back my book!"
"Mom! Dad!...Dante! Where are you! Mom?..."
"...Foolishness, Dante, Foolishness."
"It belongs to a Son of Sparda…"
"You are not worthy as my opponent…"
"Heal your wounds Dante… get strong…"
"Thank you, Nero."
Shaking his head, he continued on the pathway in front of him. After an undetermined amount of time, the road began to seem familiar… The dark and rocky pathway cleared gradually until he was on paved cobble.
"It couldn't be…" Vergil spoke, his pace gradually speeding. The road was an intimately familiar one. One he'd seen many times…
He's walked this pathway before. Many times. And not too far long ago too, right before he split himself into two.
He was walking back into his old household.
Sparda Mansion.
The pathway cleared, and the familiar shape of his home greeted his eyes. Emotions surged through his body, for the first time since he had arrived in this…mindscape? Gritting his teeth and face set into a scowl, he marched on, heart pounding from within. Thoughts now empty, except for the anticipation of whatever was within his old home. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the intricately embossed knob on the massive oak door.
"Let's see what lies beyond…"
Pushing inward, a warm gust of air blew out and washed against Vergil, filling him with a sense of home. The familiar smell of oaken floors and aged relics from his father's travels saturated his person, invoking two great emotions. One of nostalgia, of days gone past, of a better time. The other, a great melancholy, pain tearing through Vergil like a knife sinking in between his ribs. A great fire was lit on the fireplace, and a painting of his family hoisted above it. Of his mother and father, and of their two twin sons. Vergil and Dante.
"Well…you took your sweet time coming here." A smooth and dulcet voice called out. Vergil shook himself from his reverie and focused on the voice. The fire was roaring, the wood crackling every second or so. Embers slowly wafted from the fireplace, lighting up the room within. And somebody was in front of the fire, sitting on a chair. His mother's seat. Apparently waiting for his arrival.
Walking closer, he noticed a thin, almost malnourished arm that belonged to the voice. Holding a book, which Vergil recognized as William Blake's "Proverbs of Hell", the man got up and turned around to face him. Hair as black as midnight, a smug, yet somber countenance on the man's face. He was wearing a simple leather jacket with no undershirt, showing his thin but toned body. This time with no tattoos.
"Hello, Vergil." V greeted, a slight bow to his body. Vergil merely peered at him, mouth contorted into a thin line. V took it into stride and gestured to the table by the fireplace, a batch of cookies and some tea laid out.
"You may call me-"
"-V. I know who you are. What you are." Vergil finished for him and took the other chair to the side. His father's chair. V shifted his head in acknowledgment and poured some tea for Vergil, before taking a seat himself. The silver-haired man took the cup with grace and drank deeply. He didn't know if he truly needed any form of sustenance in this world, but he drank it all the same, trying to feel something fill his body other than sorrow and woe.
"...I'm not thirsty,...but I needed that. Thank you." Vergil said, laying down the empty cup and adjusting his head to stare at the embers jumping from the burning timber. V merely smiled and opened his book, bookmark leaving the spot where he left off.
"No need to thank me. I am you after all." They fell into an uneasy silence after the comment, with the tension occasionally broken by V turning a page or the crackling of the wood. After an undetermined amount of time, Vergil averted his eyes from the fire and toward his human self.
"What is this place, exactly?"
"...You already know."
"Entertain me." V exhaled and looked at the roof, deep in thought.
"What is now proved was once, only imagin'd. Everything possible to be believ'd is an image of truth." He intoned, clearly quoting from the book. Vergil frowned at him. He'd been walking through his past memories for only god knows how long. He was not in the mood to decipher his counterparts' puzzles.
"Speak sense, or none at all." the Son of Sparda growled, eyes brooking no patience. V bookmarked a page once more and closed the book, a crisp clap cutting the air.
"My my, ever so impatient. We have all day here, you know? Or even the end of time itself. Who knows?" V said, smiling and staring into the flames. "This is your mind after all."
"Then what are we doing here? Why are you here?" Vergil questioned, but a nagging pain at the back of his head already knew why.
"...You recall what Malphas hit us with? Or rather, what the Yamato did to us."
"Of course."
"Please, entertain me with your thoughts." V sent his previous words back at himself, and Vergil could only scowl.
"...It shattered time and space to send us to another dimension," Vergil answered, and V waited a moment before gesturing to him to continue.
"Go on…?"
"...Once more, our powers were severed from our body, or rather a good portion of it."
"...and you used a lot of it in your little stunt in Pacifica, did you not?"
Vergil was quiet at the admonishment, drawing his posture back into the seat. He was so wrought with anger at the situation he found himself in, cut off from his family once again and surrounded by death and degeneracy brought upon by humans' insatiable appetite for greed and violence, he could not help but draw upon his demonic prowess to atomize the area around him.
"...Not only that but there were other side effects," V added, leaning in closer to him.
"A majority of power that the Yamato severed from you was demonic in nature. Meaning-"
"-WE ARE WEAKER NOW. WHERE IS OUR POWER!"
Vergil blinked, and the young thin man in front of him was now suddenly replaced by a hulking behemoth that radiated malice from every pore. It towered above Vergil, height easily reaching the roof and forcing it to hunch over and squat in an almost humorous fashion. The image did nothing to halt the sense of dread it emitted like an aura, however. Its color was a harsh dark purple, with black spikes jutting out of its shoulders and other appendages. Its head was crowned with horns, almost gnarled in the shape of a jagged crown. Bright yellow eyes, pupils slitted like a lizard decorated its body, all equipped with a piercing gaze, and all aimed directly at Vergil. This demon was the usurper of the underworld itself. One that planted the root of the Qliphoth tree and planned for complete demonic annexation of the human world.
The Demon King, Urizen.
Urizen leaned forward until its massive head was level with Vergil's body.
"YOU LET THAT FOOL MALPHAS SEND US HERE. THEN YOU LOST US POWER! OUR POWER! MY POWER!" The demon king roared in anger, slamming its fist down at the declaration.
" AND THEN YOU…AURGH" Urizen lurched, and coughed into its hand before a sizable volume of blood gushed out from its mouth. Vergil blinked and the demon king vanished, replaced by a calm V sitting on his mother's chair, sipping tea and gazing into the fire.
"...Don't mind him. He's not happy that a majority of your power was stored within the Yamato, which you lost." Vergil raised his eyebrow, confused as to the current proceedings.
"His power, our power?"
"Of course. I am only human. Urizen does all the heavy lifting in our body." V talked about his demonic self. Vergil stood up and walked to the fireplace, basking in its warmth. Deep in thought, he considered his counterparts' words. If what V says were true, then his human self served as a battery for his demonic self to draw power upon. It made sense after all. The well from which demons drew their strength is, of course, human blood. And being half demon and half human certainly facilitated this interaction, even more so in his son Nero, who is three-quarters human.
"So…how did I escape being separated into two beings this time around?"
"...Simple. You accepted both your demonic and human side as one whole being, one Alpha and Omega. One Vergil." V said, raising a finger to enunciate his point.
"At that point, the Yamato can only subtract, not divide. Taking a good portion of your demonic strength along with it."
"So by losing a good portion of my demonic strength-" Vergil rounded toward V, and the emaciated man responded.
"-you've weakened yourself until you can relocate the devil arm," V answered, and then added another tidbit.
"You've stored a good amount of your soul within the Yamato. And you went straight into your Sin devil form as well. Thus, your demonic reserves are at an all-time low."
"So what… this entire..farce, is my body's way of healing?" The silver-haired man questioned, arms outspread as to envelope the entire area.
"You know as much as I do." V shrugged. Vergil blinked again, and Urizen was once again right in his face, panting hard and glaring him in the eyes. Gritting its teeth, the demon leaned further in, almost whispering its next words.
" Our demonic….prowess is out there, with the…the Yamato. Find it, before it's too…late. I can already feel those gnats…buzzing around. They will soon engorge themselves… ahhhhh….GO! Before…" Urizen began to cough up more blood, but Vergil needed answers.
"Too late for what?" Vergil blinked, and V answered him.
"You recall Fortuna? And the Order of the sword, do you not?" V asked, a smile no longer on his face. Vergil recalled the memory of those cultists that lived in Fortuna, and of their fanatic-like devotion to his father. Of how they experimented with demonic powers to "evolve" themselves to grow closer to their "God."
"...Of course. They were the group of humans that worshiped a demon as a God."
"And you witnessed the Yamato's memories when you..ahem, appropriated it from Nero?"
"...Yes...I see now." Vergil said, connecting Urizens warning with the order of the sword. If the humans of his home world could reverse engineer demonic powers and utilize them for their own goals using just mere shards of a broken Yamato, then what could this humanity do, one filled with technological might not yet seen by his eyes, with a fully restored and brimming/ overflowing Yamato with Vergil's own demonic powers?
There could only be a complete and unmitigated disaster.
Vergil walked toward the fireplace, the only place with color in this forsaken world that was his mindscape. Leaning down, he reached into the flames, letting it slowly creep up his fingers and onto his hand.
V walked up beside him and watched as the fire slowly consumed Vergil's arm.
"I suppose this is goodbye, for now."
"...I cannot stay here, no matter how pleasant it is to relive my trauma," Vergil spoke sarcastically, face stone cold as the flames crept up to his shoulder.
"...Good. You have much to do."
As the flames completely consumed Vergil, his consciousness burned into ashes, and drifted upward, the embers blowing up the chimney and out into the world above.
V smiled and sat back down, this time in his father's seat. Opening his book he browsed, before he picked out a phrase that came to him at that exact moment, a moment of poignant resignation.
"Eternity is in love with the productions of time. The busy bee has no time for sorrow." Closing the book, he smirked.
"So it is written."
—-
2070, Westbrook Clinic, Night City.
Vergil's eyes snapped open, and bright hospital lights greeted him once again. Gritting his teeth in exasperation, he closed his eyes once more. He felt heavy, every cell in his body felt drained of power. Moving his fingers, he groaned, the joints in his body protested with every movement, no matter how small. Regardless he clenched his fist, shuddering at the pain.
"Easy, easy. You should not rush into this." A male voice called out to his left, but Vergil took no heed of it, propping his elbows back. Sudden footsteps rushed towards him, and two pairs of hands grabbed him, urging him to lay back down. Stubbornly, Vergil resisted, sweat pouring down his face.
"Lay…off…if…you…value…your…lives." Vergil croaked out, voice dry with disuse. The pair of hands belonging to the male's voice retreated, but the one to his right side switched from his frontside to his back and helped him lay upright against the head of the bed. Breathing heavily at the task, he finally opened his eyes again, forcing his retinas to adjust to the light. He began to make out two shadows, and slowly their silhouettes began to clear up more and more as he regained his vision. On his left, a man wearing a plain lab coat stood, watching the proceedings and jotting notes down on his datapad. On the right…
Vergil looked away, his vision recoiling at the bright highlight yellow that the person was wearing. His heartbeat slowly normalizing, he wiped some sweat from his brow. Pushing his now overgrown hair off his eyes, he refocused on the person on the right. A woman, with maroon-like hair and an atrocious bright yellow jacket, stood there, a look of anticipation writ on her face. She had strange markings on one side of her face. She smiled at him as she noticed his gaze, and handed him a glass of water, which he took and drank greedily, savoring the cold sensation traveling through his body.
"Well, he appears to be alright. Vocal cords are well adjusted too, to my surprise. Usually, patients coming out of long hibernations have difficulty speaking and regaining their bearings, but it appears your input's fairly special."
The woman frowned at the comment and turned to the doctor.
"He's not my input." The doctor shrugged and walked to the door, pressing buttons on his pad.
"His vitals are all normal. I'll give you some medication to take home and then you're free to go. I'll delta, for now, give you two some time to catch up."
"...Wait." Vergil spoke, hand outstretched toward the doctor. The doctor turned around and looked expectantly at the silver-haired man.
"I…need…blood…packets," Vergil said, gasping at every word. The doctor looked at him in confusion, then at the woman, and shook his head left to right.
"A strange request. I have packets, but they are for my other patients. Now go and help your input rest, my dear."
"I told you, he's not my…!" The woman was stopped as the doctor slammed the door behind him, leaving just Vergil and the redhead alone in the room.
Slowly adjusting to his new surroundings, he looked down and glared at his clothes, a plain hospital gown hanging loosely from his body. Looking around, he spied his coat and other accessories, hanging from a coat hanger in the patient's closet.
Following his gaze, the woman smiled and walked over to his clothes.
"Need help putting these on?"
Vergil shook his head, cursing at showing weakness to such a…pedestrian woman. Still feeling woozy, he forced himself off the bed and propped himself up by a bedside chair. The woman cursed and ran over to his side, catching him when he failed to balance correctly.
"What are you, gonked? Walking right after a three-month coma, right away? Jesucristo…" Vergil's eyes bulged as the woman helped him to the chair, mentally cursing at the fact he was out for three months.
"Don't need you blacking out on me and spending more time in here, understand?" She scolded, and Vergil could only look up and glare at her.
"Who…are…you…to…order…me?" he asked, hands digging into the armrest.
"Your savior, that's who. Why dontcha show a little respect, hmm?" Vergil gnashed his teeth at the comment and rose up to his full height, but a spell of nausea overcame him and he crashed back down onto the seat.
A soft flaking sound met his ears, and he looked down, witnessing his fingertips slowly chip away into flakes and dust off. The woman saw this and her jaw dropped, quickly moving to the other side of the room.
"W…what the fuck? What are you?" she asked, bravado draining out of her at the peculiar sight.
"Blood…I…need…your…blood." Vergil intoned, recognizing the symptoms of demonic decay. Without a steady source of human blood, demons withered away slowly, their every molecule cannibalizing themselves to maintain existence. His body, both bereft of residual demonic power and weakened by his three-month-long ordeal, was once again in a state of collapse.
"Wha… why?" she questioned, a look of disgust and revulsion on her face. Vergil didn't have time for this. He needed to move, get out of this place, and find the Yamato before something irreversible happened to this world. Stashing his pride away, he grit his teeth, and stared her in the eyes with his own flinty cold daggers, gazing into soft brown chocolate orbs.
"I…will…be…in…your…debt…help…me." He wheezed, on the verge of blacking out once more.
The woman pursed her lips, brows furrowed in concentration, but sighed and took a scalpel from a cabinet, and approached the silver-haired man.
"... This is so weird. But I have to do this. For David." She sat on the arm of the chair and cut the tip of her index finger. She positioned it over the man's head and began to drip feed her own blood into his open mouth. Vergil's eyes widened, the blue hue in them slowly regaining its color as more blood passed through his lips and onto his tongue, eagerly lapping up the crimson fluid. The woman began to blush, and looked away, embarrassed at the sight of a man drinking her life force. But to Vergil, this affair was a matter of life and death. The faster he regained his strength, the faster he could accomplish his goals. No matter how shameful he went about it.
" I need more. More blood!"
He felt the strength return to his body and grabbed her hand. The woman gasped, and clapped her free hand over her mouth in shock at the contact, his skin ice cold. Vergil took no heed and lowered the woman's hand, taking her finger and drawing his tongue over it, cleaning her finger of dripping blood, before wrapping his whole mouth around her finger.
"Que…que mierda?" She cursed out loud, face beet red like a tomato. She could do nothing as Vergil continued to suction off her finger, her crimson fluid running freely at the added action of his tongue and lips. Color slowly returned to his skin and hair, and Vergil felt his demonic core surge at the infusion, already feeling the cold and hot rush of energy blast through his own veins. After what seemed like an eternity, the silver-haired man took her hand away, and stood up, previous weakness now eliminated from his body. The woman also got up, and with a yell slapped Vergil in the face, which he took with stride.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Creep!" she shouted, but it seemed that fate was reversed as she felt a spell of nausea this time and began to collapse. Vergil, ever the gentleman, caught her and helped her to the chair. The silver-haired man looked upon her with an even look, while the woman glared at him with a newly lit fire within her eyes.
"...Thank you. I am in your debt." He simply stated and began to walk toward his clothes.
"...Where are you going?" Previous disgust now forgotten, she reached out toward him, worried about the possibility of being duped. Here she was weak and drained, while the man who took all of her money and now even her own life force, was walking away from her.
"...Relax. I will freshen up. Then, we'll settle the matter." Vergil responded, and took his clothes out of the closet and a pair of scissors from a counter. Walking into the restroom, he took a sidelong glance at the woman, who was sitting on the chair, her face akin to a deer-in-the-headlights, and still red as a tomato. With a ghost of a smirk on his face, he closed the door and took off his gown. Stepping into the shower, he washed off three months of dead skin and detritus that had built up on his body. After a long fifteen-minute wash, of thinking and retrospection, he walked out of the shower and stared into the mirror.
"...Dante?"
Blinking rapidly, he almost thought that he was looking right into the face of his own brother. His long hair cascaded down to his neck, and a grown-out stubble pricked his face, his unkempt appearance eerily similar to his twin. Frowning in displeasure, he dug through a cabinet and found an item of use.
"Not in a million years, Dante."
Taking the razor, he shaved off his growing beard and used the scissors to shear off his hair to his desired size. Cutting his finger, he allowed some blood to pool in his hands, before congealing it with his power and running it over his hair, slicking it back. Clean-shaven, with hair gelled back and proper clothing on his back, he looked into the mirror.
The Eldest Son of Sparda was back.
He opened the door to the bed and walked out, a newfound swagger to his step. The woman was still there and jumped in her seat in surprise when the door swung open and was dumbfounded at his appearance. She had just seen a frail man hobble his way out of bed not too long ago, and out of the bathroom stepped… a veritable supermodel, his ice-cold gaze upon her like an apex predator judging its prey, coat billowing behind him by some unseen wind. She would be blushing more if she wasn't so offended at his earlier actions.
"Well hombre, you clean up nicely…" she muttered absentmindedly, before shaking her head and focusing on why she was there in the first place. Leaning forward, she began the final step of her plan.
"So… you aren't from around here, aren't you?"
Vergil wrapped around the room and spotted his boots, and placed them on with practiced precision.
"No. No, I suppose I am not. But what gave you that idea?" He answered her, placing the straps on his boots. His voice was a soft, yet strong and crisp hum, one concealing a reservoir of strength below.
"Call it a hunch. Your clothes and face for one. Don't really see 'em in this kinda area." she said. Vergil raised an eyebrow but nodded his head slightly in acquiescence.
"You could say that I'm a fish out of water here…"
Gloria mirrored Vergil, also nodding slightly at his comment, but mentally she was cheering. " Okay! Got confirmation my man here is some kinda outta town guy who's lost… alright girl, onto the next step.."
"And uh…You said you owe me a debt?"
"Indeed. But let's start off with introductions, shall we?" Vergil continued, taking a chair from one side of the room and sitting down in front of her. He stared at her, waiting for her to make the first move. The woman sighed and crossed her arms in front of her.
"...Gloria. Gloria Martinez." She said, anticipation building back up. Gloria was certain this man was a rich foreigner, with his polite mannerisms hinting at a wealthy upbringing. Still, questions nagged her at the back of her mind. " What was he doing in Pacifica of all places? What was that…form he was in? Why did he need my blood?"
". .. You may call me V," he responded, arms folded in front of him.
"... An alias as well? Oh, this man is definitely hiding something. And it better be a lot of eddies. Let's change up the pace of the conversation then."
"I would say it's nice to meet you, but you borderline assaulted me back there." she grouched out, playing up the gentleman angle.
"...My apologies. I was in dire straits and needed some nourishment. I did ask the doctor, but he denied the request. And I did promise recompense, in the end." Vergil smoothly retorted, the ball now back in Gloria's court. Recognizing this was her opportunity, she leaned forward.
"Yes…recompense. I need money. And a lot of it. Not only have I given you my blood, but I pulled you out of the explosion in Pacifica. And you were stuck in this hospital for three months, all of which I had to pay out of pocket." Gloria recounted, lifting up her fingers and counting off the favors she racked up for him. Vergil's eyes tightened a fraction, taking in the information.
"She was the one to pull me out, hmm?" Looking around the room, he focused on the many used-up bags of IVs that slowly dripped down into a sink. " If it weren't for this woman's actions, albeit fuelled by ulterior motives…I would have perished…"
"...You did all this not out of the goodness of your own heart, I imagine."
"In Night City? Hah! Not in the city of dreams, mister." She barked out a laugh. Vergil exhaled, and sat back in his seat, dreading her reaction to his next words. Not because he was afraid of her, but exasperated at the fact he was about to run some serious damage control.
"...Then I'm afraid I have to tell you that I do not have the funds right now, whatever the amount." A moment of silence hung between the two before the redhead shifted in her seat a smidge.
Gloria felt like the floor beneath her just gave away, and her blood ran cold.
"Heh..heh…you're joking right?" She got up from her seat and reached for Vergil, grabbing at his collar. Vergil merely glanced at her with blank eyes, allowing her to latch onto him to vent her frustration.
"You…can't…just..joke like t-that, choom? Right? That was a joke?" She begged, tears now running down her face. She grinned a hollow smile, which the Son of Sparda did not return.
"No…you can't be serious…!" Tears now flowing in rivers, she shook him back and forth and saddled him, now fully shaking him in anger and dejection.
"You…you! How the fuck could you be flat broke! Look at yourself, your clothes!… I should have sold your clothes for money! No, n-no way, you must be a rich foreigner with a lot of money, right?!" Vergil stayed quiet throughout her tirade, still staring at her with unfeeling eyes.
"Fuck, I should have sold you out to a Corpo! No mames…" Gloria felt the life drain out of her. Thoroughly beaten by the world, she pounded her head against this complete stranger's vest, sobbing and shaking. She had gambled, and she had lost badly. Now she couldn't pay rent for next month, and already Gloria could see the eviction notices. She could see David turn to more and more crime. He'd probably detest her, leaving her for being such a bad mother. He'd leave her. Just like his father left her… No! She could still salvage the situation. Sell off her kidneys, her superfluous organs. Her implants… she only needed one eye to see, right? Maybe she'd get lucky and find some guy with military-grade enhancements. Kill him, sell off his body parts to some mercs...
…Maybe she could cave in and work as a joy toy. Being Catholic, she would never dream of prostituting herself. But there was no more choice for her in the matter. She was at her wit's end, completely drained of both energy and money. People always told her she was pretty enough for it…
"...Enough of this sorry display." His voice cut through her wild thoughts, and she found herself being lifted, before unceremoniously being deposited back into her chair. Vergil straightened his coat and wiped off the moisture from her tears with a look of displeasure.
"You did not let me finish." He started, and fetched a box of tissues from a counter. Handing them to her, he sat down and once more proceeded with his account.
"I am without funds, yes, but I can assure you, I am more than capable of settling this debt." Gloria wiped some tears away and sniffled out a response.
"H-how?" Vergil frowned, face scrunched in concentration. He did not know the money system in this dimension, so he could not give an accurate estimation of what he owed. Instead, he went another route, one dealing with the number of hours worked instead of straight-up cash. If he worked the same amount of time she worked to build up her savings that she had spent on him, he could possibly end up paying her with more money than she started with, leaving his debt repaid, his honor intact and this plebeian satisfied.
"...How long would you say that you have labored, to obtain the funds you used up to nurse me back to health?" He questioned. Gloria took another tissue and blew her nose, before crunching some numbers in her head.
"...T-two years of labor."
Vergil cursed inwardly. Two years of debt? This will not do. He had other things to do, namely to save this dimension from fools accidentally utilizing the Yamato in an…unsavory fashion. He'll have to work double overtime then, both in paying off his debt and finding his heirloom. Mulling it over, he sighed and slicked his hair back again, before addressing the redhead in front of him.
"Fine then. I will be in your debt for a year. I will take whatever job I can, and split the earnings fifty-fifty with you." A beat of silence, before Gloria, responded.
"N-no way!" she protested. "There's no way you can pay me back in a single year!" Gloria thought the man in front of her was insane. She knew he had no chrome, possibly no connections in the city, and was broke from his own admission. So how could he possibly do what he just said?
"Yes way." he snorted back and rose to his feet.
"You'll find that I am…special in a certain way. I will settle this debt, and more on the account of you saving my life. This, on my word as a Son of Sparda." He stated. Gloria pursed her lips, and also stood up, looking up into his face and searching for any form of untrustworthiness.
"...I don't know what that is, but how can I trust you? You can easily just walk away…and dupe me. Make me believe those lies to make me feel better and never see me again." The dull sound of a rocket miles away from their location filled the emptiness of the room, and Vergil looked outward at it, pondering her words.
"You can't trust me...so you'll just have to put your faith in me then." Pointing out the window, he directed Gloria's gaze to a bridge over an intersection, where off in the distant night sky, the rocket soared ever higher to the stars.
"Meet me there in a sennight." Vergil walked to the window and opened it up, breathing in Night City proper for the first time. Gloria walked toward him, clutching her jacket sleeves with an iron grip.
"What's that?"
"...a week's time."
"...Promise me you'll be there, V. I have nothing left…I…" she whispered, eyes red-rimmed with tears and anguish. Turning around one last time, Vergil glanced at her, measuring her for all she was worth, before turning back and placing his foot on the edge of the window. The Moon fully framed Vergil as the light cascaded behind him, giving him an almost ethereal aura of otherworldliness.
"...I don't make promises, Martinez. I make guarantees. Until then." And he leaped into the night, leaving the woman behind with only her doubts and self-loathing.
—-
1 Week Later, Westbrook, Night City
"Wait here, Welles," Vergil ordered, pulling up to a deserted parking lot underneath a bridge, and kicking up his motorcycle stand. Jackie pulled up next to him in his own red arch, a confused expression on his face. They stopped under a lone light, the night sky hanging above their heads.
"This ain't the coords that Regina gave us, choom."
"Indeed. I have a prior engagement to attend to." Vergil answered back, and locked the Itsumade arch he appropriated from a Tyger claw member. Jackie smirked in an almost infuriatingly similar way to another white-haired man that Vergil only knew, and he braced himself for the incoming teasing.
"I have a prior engagement to attend to." Jackie parroted similarly, humorously lowering his voice to try to match Vergil's tone. Laughing at his own joke, he kicked up the stand to his own motorcycle and leaned against it.
"Look, if you wanna go and see your output, just say so… ay !" Jackie gave an uncharacteristic yelp when Vergil's blade was suddenly right in front of him, the flat side facing him so that he could see his own reflection. Making his point, Vergil pulled back the blade and resheathed it in a clean motion, before glaring at the ex-Valentino.
"If you value your ability to speak, then stay silent." Jackie mimed zipping his mouth with a key and then threw the key away. Vergil shook his head in irritation and walked up to a pillar, and turned back toward Jackie, remembering something.
"...I will just be a moment. We can continue our mission then." Vergil then rapidly ascended the pillar, utilizing the randomly jutting pieces of rebar and other nearby buildings to make it to the top of the bridge. Jackie shook his head, still in disbelief of the man's ability to do superhuman activities without any implant, well save for a single eye and basic neural ware he had gotten a few days ago. Apparently "that's all he needed."
Still, whatever V was, he was making the both of them a fuckton of money doing it. Just this week, they cleared out five gang caches, three bases, and assassinated four men, one of them a Corpo. Just in a single fucking week! And V went on to the next gig, apparently needing no R&R!
"What bullshit…" Jackie said to himself.
—-
Vergil leaped over the top, coattails billowing with the action and landed with a soft touch. Getting up, he pulled his hood over his face more and scanned the area. His arrival went unnoticed by the only other inhabitant of the bridge, one who was still wearing the same garishly bright yellow jacket that was an affront to his sensibilities. The red-haired woman was leaning on the rail on the other side, looking up at the night sky and rapidly shaking her right leg up and down. He closed the distance and stood behind her back, noticing the stress that radiated from her body.
"You're a mess, Martinez." He started, and Gloria jumped in surprise, leaning over the bridge and almost falling down. Vergil reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, before pulling her close and away from the ledge.
"Foolish woman, are you trying to die?" Their gazes met, and once again his icy daggers met her chocolate orbs. Her face flush red with both stress from waiting, and then almost falling.
"...I," she started, but then remembered the reason why she was here. Breaking her wrist away, she glared at him, before releasing a sigh and an almost sob.
"You…you actually came?" she whispered as if anything louder would dispel the illusion in front of her. She had stood here for hours, waiting as the sun came down, holding onto the last vestige of hope that there was still an inherent good in people. Vergil curled an eyebrow at her comment, almost insulted that the woman would believe he would not repay a life debt.
"...You don't expect much from others…hmm?" He droned, but deep in his mind, a voice called out to him. " Neither do you, hypocrite."
Gloria turned back to the ledge and looked out to the City below, eyes focusing on nothing in particular. "How could I? You don't expect much from others in this city. That's how you learn to live here…" Turning her head to him, she gave a sad smile and chuckled.
"You are a complete stranger, and I asked for a lot. But I'm glad there are still those like you out there." Vergil stilled at her comments. For perhaps the first time in his life, someone was thanking him for a deed. Not pulling out their sword or making a joke at his expense.
He felt something deep within him stir.
"...I haven't even handed you the cut of your share, and yet you thank me?... You are a strange one indeed." He remarked and reached into his duster's pocket to fish out a heavy roll of eurodollars.
"I hope you don't mind them being physical. I don't trust how you all do this exchange…digitally."
Gloria's jaw dropped at the density of the roll, her eyes already watering at the possibility that her original plan was returning back on track.
"T-those are all o-ones, right?" she stammered, reaching for the wad. Vergil scoffed and unwrapped the wad, letting his thumb browse through the stack and revealing that they were all hundreds. "Hostia…" she said, both hands covering her mouth. A cursory glance made her realize that that amount of money was worth three months of her current wage.
He reached out his hand with the money for her to grab them, but she was still in shock, mind racking at the impossibilities. " No way they are real. They have to be fake! No way he got all this scratch that fast. No fucking way." Vergil in the meantime rolled his eyes and sighed.
"I don't have time for this." He took one of her hands and placed the roll on it, her body still motionless.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me to deceive you."
"I…I…" Glancing down at her hand, she could feel the crisp eurodollars with her own hands, and she slowly recounted the money, her touch tender as if she was holding on to something fragile. Yes, this was enough to pay for rent for the next few weeks, enough to place actual food back on their plates, and even some leftovers for David's Highschool savings!
"W…waaaaah!" Tears now ran freely down her face, and she began to sob uncontrollably in front of Vergil for the second time. The past three months were brutal for her mental health, but the last week was especially hard, her heart and mind heavy with disbelief that her plan had failed. Now, her dream of getting David a better life was back on track, and her faith was repaid in the form of this complete stranger from out of town. " This was Dios testing me, huh?" A familiar dull roar was heard in the background, a rocket gushing red-hot flames to lift off a few miles away.
Vergil on the other hand furrowed his brows in concern. " Why is she crying? Is there something missing? Must more funds be given?"
"If the amount is not enough, may I remind you that I am still indebted to you…" He was cut off when Gloria closed the distance and wailed into his coat, drenching it a second time. His face turned into a grimace, annoyed at the fact this woman dirtied his coat not once, but a second time with her incessant tears. They stayed like this for a while, and Vergil awkwardly stood there taking it, not having been in this situation ever in his entire life. He was a demon king and a taker of lives. Not a consoler of emotions.
"N…no. It's just that…" She stammered, unable to voice out her frazzled thoughts. Sniffling, she stepped back, remembering that his expensive-looking coat was not a place to cry into. Wiping snot and tears from her face, she smiled up at him.
"I…This city has taken a lot from me. To put your faith in someone, and to be paid back in exchange…it's a rare thing here." she explained. Vergil merely wiped the moisture off his vest and looked off into the distance, where the rocket was setting off into the night sky. She followed his gaze, and the two looked at the sight for a while before the rocket disappeared into the clouds above.
"I told you. I owe a life debt. And a Son of Sparda does not go back on his words." Vergil said resolutely. "And don't thank me yet, our deal isn't quite over."
"...What are you exactly? Why are you here?" she asked, using her sleeve to wipe away the residual traces of her outburst. Vergil considered her question, and racked through his mind, piecing together what he knew of this world just a week in. He then turned to face her.
"I am a Bio-android that is powered by the blood of humans. I was made in a lab and released into the wild by my megacorp to gather information about the world." He lied as naturally as he breathed.
She looked at him with an unamused expression, and Vergil tilted his head in the other direction.
"Fine then. I am a demon king, and a half-demon at that. I was accidentally sent here from another dimension by a mishap from my own powers. I have to find the whereabouts of my lost heirloom before this world falls into calamity."
"...Now I know you're bullshitting me with that last one. No demon would ever be this nice and decent. A Bio android from a Megacorp it is." Gloria joked, and Vergil regarded her with a slight frown at her comment.
"Yes… demons truly are detestable and are incapable of being pleasant…" Glancing at his neural watch, he grunted and began to walk away.
"W-wait? Where are you going?" he turned around on a single foot at her question, boot scraping the ground.
"...I have more jobs to do, and something I need to find. I trust this meeting was to your satisfaction?" Gloria nodded, a small smile gracing her features. Her neural net suddenly pinged at her, and she saw that a new contact was hailing her. Accepting, the contact was named "V", and his image was a pic of a katana laid over an intricate blue design of some sort of…monster?
"Call me only if you are in mortal danger. I will not have you die before settling this debt."
"O..okay. Hey uh, V?" She questioned, suddenly shy at his intimidating stare.
"What is it?"
"...Can we meet here like this, in person? Y'know, the next time to settle your debt." She parroted his voice at the last sentence, and Vergil's eye twitched at the fact that he was mocked again for the way he spoke the second time of the night.
"...If it pleases you, meet back here in two weeks. I will be here, waiting at this same time with your cut. Until then." And he lept off the bridge, leaving Gloria with a massive stack of eddies in her hands. Shaking from her stupor, she quickly stuffed the money in her pockets, and walked off into the night, her spirits high and a jump to her step.
—-
Vergil landed right beside Jackie, who jumped at the sudden entrance, hand already going to his guns, before realizing who it was.
" Que Carajo man, tell me next time before you jump out like that. Nearly killed me of shock!"
Vergil merely scoffed and sat on his bike, revving up his Itsumade.
Jackie mirrored him, turning on his arch and pulling up beside him.
"...So you wanna tell me what all that crying was about?"
"...You heard her from down here?"
"Your output? Yeah, all the way from…" Once again, a sword made its way in front of Jackie's face and he leaned back, almost falling off his arch. Vergil turned his head to glare at Jackie, extreme unamusement writ upon his face.
"One. she is not my "output." Two, it is none of your business. And three, stay quiet for at least the ride to our job. Am I clear?"
"Alright, alright, I get it!" The sword withdrew from his face, and Vergil drove off into the street. Jackie shook his head and revved up his own bike and set off, but not before chuckling to himself.
"Heh…One day, that pendejo's actually gonna gut me."
—-
2075, Arasaka Tower, Night City
Vergil opened his eyes. Glancing at the time, he was due twenty minutes before the high council meeting. Getting up, he brushed himself off and mentally prepared for the road ahead of him. This was the place where he could really be challenged; boardroom politics. None of his demonic abilities could help him, save his intimidation. But there was to be plenty of intimidation in that room. All factions of Arasaka would meet to discuss overarching topics, which included the founder himself, Saburo Arasaka. While he could not physically be in the room as he was still in Japan, Saburo radiated an almost godlike aura around himself, thanks to how his lackeys kissed the ground at every footfall. It was amusing to Vergil how the old frail man, who many in this world could physically snap like a twig, was seen throughout the entire world as an otherworldly being, and his declarations during his speeches could send ripples through entire countries and their economies.
All factions would meet for an unspecified reason, and while Itane hypothesized it was about the heir Yorinobu, Vergil suspected something much bigger, the next step in Arasaka's future. This meeting was too close to the other high council meetings, meaning that whatever the announcement, it had to be important to mention now rather than at the next triannual assembly.
" Whatever it may be…I will be ready."