Thanks to a warning from Sam Valentine (thanks alot, really!), I have reposted my story as a non-songfic.

Sorry if if caused any confusion... Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry 3.

You've heard of it, haven't you? The Legend of Sparda. When I was young my father would tell me stories about it.

Long ago, in ancient times, a demon rebelled against its own kind for the sake of the human race. With his sword, he shut the portal to the demonic realm and sealed the evil entities off from our human world. But since he was a demon himself, his power was also trapped on the other side. I never believed it. I thought it was just a child's fairytale. But I discovered that this so-called legend wasn't a myth at all.

Sparda existed.

How do I know? Well… I met the sons of Sparda—both of them.

Though the same blood of their father flowed through their veins, they battled each other fiercely like arch enemies. It was if they derived some sort of twisted pleasure from this brotherly fighting.

But in the end, only one was left standing.

—Lady, Devil May Cry 3

Chapter 1: "An Inevitable Fate"

The demonic sword, Sparda, spun as it descended, landing point first in the riverbed in the Underworld.

Two men plummeted after the sword, landing gracefully in crouches before looking up and diving for the sword.

Identical twins, Vergil and Dante had been, for the longest time, arch enemies, working together only when they couldn't avoid it. One would think that even a shred of brotherly love would shine through, but it was not so. The two were destined to fight.

Vergil rolled forward, snatching the hilt of the ancient sword and tugging it free from the bed. Seeing that Dante was merely inches away, he held the sword out, point first, and silently dared his twin to try to retrieve it from him.

The younger twin refused the dare, backing up to put a comfortable distance between them.

A glint drew Vergil's eye to Dante's left hand, the one holding the silver half of the amulet. Reaching out a hand, the brother beckoned Dante to come closer, saying, "Give that to me."

Dante spared the amulet a glance before hiding it behind his back and taking a step back. "No way, you got your own."

Sparda was moved back into attack position. "Well I want yours too."

Dante frowned. "What are you gonna do with all that power, huh? No matter how hard you try, you're never gonna be like father."

If he didn't know better, Dante would've sworn that he'd seen panic on his twin's otherwise calm face. "You're wasting time!" Vergil yelled, charging.

Dante stood inanimate until the last second, staring his brother down. Then he, too, lashed out with his sword, Rebellion, but Vergil caught his strike. Then again, he caught his brother's too.

He took a moment to examine his brother's expression. To others, it would be strange talking to themselves, as it practically was with him and Vergil. Currently, his handsome face was strained and he was shaking slightly from the weight of the blow.

"We are the sons of Sparda," Dante reminded his twin, he, too, quivering under the weight of the blow. His hand was beginning to ache. "Within each of us flows his blood, but most importantly, his soul!" He pushed forward with Rebellion as well as his bloody hand, sending him and Vergil backwards. "And now, my soul," he continued, gesturing to himself then Vergil, "is saying it wants to stop you!"

To his surprise, Vergil began to laugh. "Unfortunately, our souls are at odds, brother." He held up a hand before his face before clenching it into a fist. "I need more power."

"And we're supposed to be twins."

"Twins," the older brother repeated sarcastically, moving Sparda back into its attack position. "Right."

With a roar, Dante charged, slashing across Vergil's chest.

Vergil ducked, allowing momentum to carry Rebellion out of range before whacking his twin in the stomach with the but of his other sword, Yamato. He had already decided that in this final battle, he would toy with Dante, watching him squirm before killing him and retrieving the amulet.

The younger brother stumbled backwards and snarled, plucking his gun, Ivory, from its holder, targeted his twin and fired, hitting Vergil square in the shoulder. He tripped, barely regaining his balance, but got his feet under him in time not to fall. His silvery blonde hair was soaked and clung to his handsome face. A drenched, crimson leather trench coat hung open, revealing skin too perfect to be human's and a tight, well muscled chest. Baggy, yet form fitting pants hung low on his waist, tucking into mostly undone short, black boots at the ankle. Blue eyes were narrowed with determination but held a hidden glint of sorrow and uncertainty.

Vergil's features were congruent with the exception of a few minor details. His damp hair was slicked back almost into small spikes, showing a face that could be Dante's reflection. He, too, wore a long trench coat, except his was a royal blue. Tidy clothes—the dark violet shirt, the dark pants and the knee length brown boots—gave him more of a sophisticated and practical look then Dante's rock 'n' roll style. His eyes held confusion and disappointment.

"Come on," Dante taunted, giving his long sword an experimental twirl, showing his expertise.

Vergil huffed, standing, a smirk on his face. "If you think this is it, you might as well throw in the towel." He rotated his injured shoulder, not a speck of pain evident in his expression or voice. "Because you're in over your head."

Seeing as though Dante was gathering his wits, the older twin took this time to draw into himself calling on the blood that was his strength. He felt exhilaration and maliciousness in transforming into that which he loved most: the scaly, humanoid demon.

Dante's expression switched to one of grim determination seeing his brother's form. He hated to admit it, but he was actually worried.

Although they were twins, their way of doing things differed greatly. Vergil was cool, calm and collected to the point of almost being heartless, usually taking the time to observe his victim, learn its weaknesses then pounce and obliterate it within seconds. Their father, the legendary Dark Knight Sparda, had given him a lithe and aero-dynamic katana, named Yamato, that was forged in the Underworld. It was believe that this sword, in the right hands, could move so fast that the human eye couldn't catch a glimpse of it. It suited Vergil well.

Dante, on the other hand, was often rash and valued brawn over brains. He always joked and loved to taunt and play with people, enjoying their distress and anger as he pushed them far beyond their limits. Unfortunately, most of his victims were demons, but, thankfully, he had the strength and skill to defeat them. He had recently opened a devil slaying business, to put his skills, or taunting, to good use. Their father had given him a broad sword called Rebellion, a blade that was also forged in the Underworld. He wielded it with one hand and it, along with his guns, had become his signature weapon.

As for their transformations? Vergil, being the cruel and heartless one, needed only malicious thoughts to arouse his demonic blood. And Dante, being the 'macho man' he was, needed an adrenaline rush before it would wake.

Dante leapt back, noticing his brother approaching, and drew out his twin guns, Ebony and Ivory. Appropriately named for their colouring, the handguns had served him well over the years and he hoped they would aid him now.

Feeding his energy into the guns, he pulled the triggers, shooting the magical bullets. He fired a few rounds like this before he stopped, realizing that they weren't doing any good.

Twirling his katana in circles, Vergil had caught the bullets in its centrifugal force before tossing them away with a flick of his wrist.

Setting the guns back into their holders and grabbing the hilt of Rebellion, Dante charged.

Vergil followed suit, sheathing Yamato and drawing Sparda, meeting his twin halfway.

They met with a clash, a quick stalemate, then broke it, and began stabbing, slashing and hacking at each other. They wove their swords in complex patterns and dances, trying to catch the other off guard.

The battle went on like this for awhile longer before Vergil decided to change tactics. Crouching down, he kicked out with his leg, trying to trip him. Then when Dante was in the air, he punched him in the stomach, sending flying him backwards. Then he reached, again, for Sparda.

Dante gasped when he hit the floor, he wind momentarily blasted from his lungs, and struggled to his feet.

By that time, Sparda was already in the air, spinning towards him and Vergil was charging.

When the sword was a few feet from him, he arched his back and bent his knees, the blade inches from his chest, before kicking up his feet and hitting the sword's hilt sending it high into the air and embedding it again in the river. When Vergil struck, he performed another back flip, evading the attack and kicked the blade high into the air.

Dante began to wonder why his blood hadn't stirred. Then again, he had yet to receive an adrenaline rush, too. What was wrong with him?

Unconsciously, he knew. He just didn't want to admit it.

Using his claws, Vergil attacked with his fists relying on his demonic brute strength. The hatred and malice in his veins began to recede and he knew that his demon strength was soon to disappear as well.

Dante was glad he equipped the Beowulf gauntlets before this battle, seeing as though he wouldn't have lasted long without them. Light and durable, the powerful gauntlets allowed the younger twin to match his brother blow for blow. Also, they protected his arms and shins.

Blocking and striking, Dante fell into the rhythm of his brother's attacks, loosing himself to the frightening level of concentration that consumed him.

Vergil mentally grinned, seeing that Dante had finally decided to take the fight seriously. But he still had the upper hand. Jumping back, he felt his blood begin to settle down, his form shifting back, as he lurched forward, slamming into his twin and send him sprawling into the river again. Then, in his human form, he retrieved Yamato and strode triumphantly towards his fallen brother.

Dante felt Vergil approach, but couldn't find the strength to move.

Yamato was brought above him. "A familiar position, brother?" Vergil taunted, smirking. "Give me the amulet and I might make it quick."

The younger twin continued to gasp, and couldn't respond even if he wanted too.

"A pity." The sword descended.

For a split second, Dante felt fear and embraced it, remembering the last time Vergil had pinned him down with his sword. Although it ended quickly, the adrenaline rush was all he needed. He shifted, turning into the red and black demon.

Although somewhat surprised, Vergil couldn't help but smirk in amusement as Demon Dante grasped the descending sword with his feet and pushed off, using the momentum to wrench the sword from his grasp.

"So," Vergil exclaimed, "the real fight begins."

Demon Dante only snarled and charged.

The combat began again. This time, Vergil let his twin go on the offensive, enjoying the feel of his rage and anger. They exchanged blow after blow, but this time, Vergil was taking the heat.

Inside, Dante was battling with himself. He couldn't ignore the facts. His brother was a cruel, heartless person and had most likely savored each kill. Vergil had also betrayed him, leaving him when he needed him most and defecting to the side of the demons.

But he was his brother; he couldn't ignore that fact and deep down (deep, deep down) he knew a shred of brotherly love still lingered. He knew he couldn't kill him without hating himself for all eternity.

Proof of Dante's inner struggle was apparent, his form flickering back and forth. Vergil took the opportunity to knock him back and retrieve his sword.

But Dante didn't give him the time, slashing his brother across the stomach with Rebellion.

"…Dante…"

His brother stumbled backwards, gasping. His hand was on his chest, trying to stop the crimson tears weeping from the gash. Vergil was then down on one knee, panting. "Am I… being defeated?" he gasped, clutching his chest harder.

"What's wrong? Is that all you got?" Dante taunted, "Come on, get up. You can do better than that!"

Vergil's face hardened as he rose with a grunt.

The ground rumbled, suddenly, causing the younger twin to glance around in confusion.

"The portal to the human world is closing, Dante," Vergil answered his unasked question, "Because the amulets are separated."

"Let's finish this, Vergil," Dante exclaimed, softly. "I have to stop you even if that means killing you." He dashed forward, Rebellion resting near his hip.

Moving Yamato into position, Vergil charged.

Time seemed to slow for the twins as the rushed each other, but when they were about to strike, time went too fast. Momentum carried them through and they stood still, in striking position, as if afraid to move.

It was Vergil who faltered, falling once again to one knee, loosing his half of the amulet in the water.

The younger brother returned the broad sword to its place on his back.

Panting, the older twin groped blindly in the water for his amulet before standing wobbly, facing Dante.

Vergil began to stumble backwards towards the ledge. "No one can have this, Dante. It's mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda."

Guessing his brother's intentions, Dante's eyes widened and he lurched forward.

Yamato met him halfway, halting his movements. "Leave me and go," his brother snapped, "if you don't want to be trapped in the Demon World. I'm staying. This place was our father's home." With that said and done, he began to fall backwards.

The younger twin reached out, but pulled back when Vergil swung Yamato before him, slicing his palm.

Vergil closed his eyes as he felt himself falling. He'd be fine without Dante; he'd been before. And he wouldn't have to worry about someone interfering with his plans. Everything would be perfect.

Except…

Dante, laying half-on and half-off the ledge, had grabbed his hand.

There's the first chapter, hope you liked it!