Chapter theme: We shall never surrender, music box ver-https/youtu.be/ljhaUtxIenk
Terminology:
SDT: SUBTERRANEAN DEMON TRIBE, often used to describe sentient and non-aggressive demons.
USF: UNITED SUBTERRANEAN FRONT, the recognized sovereign citizens of the Ebott. Valley demon association.
NNH: New New Home, the town's name. The only city of the USF society.
Central: Central Government, central city, main human settlement where the Grand Senate is instated.
WG: World Government, The coalition of governments, cities and island states, headed the Grand Senate.
WM: World Military, the standing widespread military for the entire world bar a few states and countries.
OTS: Order Of The Sword, a religious faction mainly situated in the city of fortuna, radical Sparda worshippers.
Disclaimer: Certain aspects of this story are based on a loosely fictional and exaggerated version of reality, of what is possible, of what could be, to understand this is to understand that there is no agenda… Make your own conclusions, what you think is right.
I own nothing.
Sin Trigger.
Vergil has been gone from the USF for four years, 260 days, twelve hours, forty eight minutes, and twelve seconds.
The Son of Sparda knows this well.
Over the years he'd been stabbed, jabbed and poked by numerous things and objects, traveling this world to find his equally resilient brother Dante would lead to some interesting predicaments after all.
During this time, his stature had only grown more impressive, his jawline more angular and defined, his eyes two piercing oceans that could light into an inferno at will. But even after all his traveling, through burning sun, and chilling cold, his skin remained pale as the moon.
But his heart still burned with that same spark from years ago.
Sitting at a table inside a small yet serviceable safehouse, Vergil took a drink of his water and watched his friend use anti-stain wipes to remove the alcohol from his artificial skin, still shivering from his encounter at the bar… Vergil thought it would be a safe place for them now after convincing the owner to do business with SDT's, but of course… An OTS member was there.
Which almost led to him losing a member of his vanguard, and a dear friend.
"Blooke."
"... I know Vergil… I'm sorry, I'll stay here next time…"
Shifting in his seat, he pinched his nose, slightly annoyed. "That's not what I meant, you can't lend just anyone who seems mean the ability to walk all over you, face your fears." Clenching his artificial fingers into a fist, Blooke looked away from his friend.
Sometimes violence was necessary… Even when it should be avoided.
The robotic devil sighed, "... I'm not a fighter like you or Mettaton… I'm just a coward, you know me." The self-degradation was nothing new, he'd viewed himself as powerless since day one.
Disappointedly, he was actually still much more confident now than he'd been four years ago… But he wasn't anywhere close to being confident enough, especially with his robotic abilities.
Vergil stood up and leaned down close, "That's not an option out here Blooke, you think I or your cousin will be there every time someone fancy's a power trip? Don't be so foolish, you can fight, you're nearly as strong as Mettaton… But you hold back." The android began to mumble, too quiet for even Vergil to hear with his enhanced senses.
"I know… But we should not fight… Asgore told us that, don't you remember?" The memory of the crestfallen king was enough to stun Vergil into silence, his fists clenching.
Violence was an option… But never ideal, Blooke knew this yet… Never fought back against his detractors, some would think that he'd never be able to… But he knew differently, Vergil knew that somewhere in his soul… Blooke wanted to let go and face his fear.
"I… I'm sorry, I know you don't like talking about it… I'll try better next time, okay?"
That was enough, for now.
Nodding, Vergil pats him on the shoulder. "Good, now then… We must find anything we can on the Order, that ruffian from before was definitely a lower class member…" If it wasn't obvious by his pedantic rhetoric, as Blooke and Brandon pointed out much to his chagrin.
It was clear nothing would come of Crono, but he was their only lead so far on the inner workings of OTS. The order was an intricate network, an almost state apparatus acting under the guise of a simple religious defense organization, to uproot the weed one must find its roots… And those roots tied deeply into the history of Fortuna.
Blooke only nodded, "But he didn't seem to know me… Just that I was an SDT." Vergil hummed, slightly furrowing his brow.
'It was a blind form of tribalism… Yet it had to have come from somewhere…'
Which meant one thing… Either he was an outlier in the Order, or he represented a much more sinister plot…
The half-devil pulled up an old speech of the current chairman, Sanctus. "The current outlook on SDT's does not match their formerly vehement opposition to USF independence." The video in question displayed a younger Sanctus, the man was short, unbecoming, non-threatening… Yet even from an outdated video, you could see a glimpse of something darker in his eyes.
Especially with how he spoke of demons as expendable and as if their existence was an act against Sparda himself, when the SDT first reemerged at least.
Vergil was keen enough to notice, "And yet now suddenly, his arms are wide open… Foolish Sanctus." For the last week or so, Vergil has been researching day and night, joining up with Mettaton Napstablook on their investigation after repeatedly failing to find a trace of his brother Dante… Mettaton promised that if he helped him, Vergil would get all the Diva's resources in the goal of finding Dante.
At last…
The half-devil even searched his old town of Redgrave, coming across the old family home burned down as it was… And yet not a single trace of Dante, his bones, or his ashes… Only sightings of a white haired devil-hunter spurred Vergil on now, the only trace left…
Suddenly the door to the safehouse bursts open with Vergil standing up to his full height, the expectation to fight growing underneath his skin as a pyre, only to see Brandon standing there huffing and puffing with a terrified gaze etched across his feline features
The feline-devil raises a finger to catch his breath, "Creepy bald guy. outside. He's coming-"
As if an ice-cold wind had flushed through the room, a ghostly presence slipped in unannounced. Almost too quickly for even Vergil to prepare, a rare weariness.
Heavy footfalls foretell the arrival, "Ah… A Son of Sparda, in the flesh…" Quiet, unnerving, raspy, yet clear… A voice devoid of soul, or emotion, a husk of a being slips through the door. His face was scarred and lacking any humanity, slowly revealing himself through the shadows…
And in his hand, he's holding a book… With a V etched across its cover… "William Blake hm? You have taste, at least." Vergil remained stoic, even while feeling an intense rage on the inside.
'How could he have…' Without him even seeing, the man before him had taken his treasured compendium.
"But unfortunately, you are wasting your time here… You want to find your brother, yes?" Levying a dangerously empty gaze, this man was… Nerve wracking, if he knew that detail…
Vergil's throat tightens suddenly, constricting. His Adam's apple bob's as he swallows, "You… You play a dangerous game, human… Coming here, defenseless." Vergil's formerly nasally and high pitched voice has reached maturity, each word bit out in terrifying ferocity.
The world is still, like a figure caught in an abstract painting, this man takes step after step towards them… His thinly body gliding through the air, no foot falls, no sound of breathing…
Just a wraith.
The man merely laughs humorously at Vergil's well hidden trepidtion, "My name is Arkham, and I do believe we can…" He holds the book up to his face, inspecting it with a gentle gaze.
"Learn from another."
Quicker than a bullet, the compendium shoots towards the dark-slayer, catching it easily only to see that the now identified Arkham… was gone, both his allies were shaking in the corner huddled by one another for safety.
'How can one hide his demonic presence so easily? I hardly noticed it…'
The rest of the night, the door remained locked.
Time passed after that fateful night, and not once did the mysterious man show up again… Arkham as he calls himself, the almost ghostly entity didn't stay for long… Merely to give a message, a promise that we'd be seeing more of another… An expectation.
Vergil couldn't make heads or tails of it all, he wasn't suited to the more paranormal and nuanced demon encounters; if you wanted Vergil, you'd point at the rampaging demon going through town… Not a possession, or an Investigation.
Unfortunately for the half-devil, he'd have to use nuance now…
At least some.
Four days later…
Taking a heavy step through the entrance of the bar, Vergil quickly scanned throughout the empty establishment with a scrying and ice cold gaze. The wood creaking underneath his boots, he strolled right up to the owner of the bar with a slow and purposeful gait. Behind him followed the robotic SDT, it seemed to him and the half-devil that the empty bar was much more inviting than yesterday.
Bianca was shining her beer-glasses when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps, gasping before whirling around to face them.
"Oh, it's just you two… Oh jeez, I'm so sorry about the other day. Tell ya what, drinks are on the house for the rest of the week!" Vergil grunted as he lowered himself onto the stool, propping his head up with a tiny scowl.
Blooke stood awkwardly off to the side, clearly uncomfortable… Damn, even robots had social anxiety… "That won't be necessary, Bianca, however… I do require your assistance again."
The short woman was happy to oblige, "After you helped me secure two new customers? Of course, hit me!" Vergil raised a brow at her exaggeration; blinking.
Gulping at his darkly cast gaze, "Not literally of course…" He smirked at her sheepishness, it seemed this woman was far too nice when it came to this line of business… Foolish.
But, good for him, "Alright then, I'll cut to the chase, where's your husband?" Bianca blinked a few times, her eyes narrowing trying to think of any reasoning for his request.
"Hey… I get he went too far but I still love him… We aren't married, and that man has never hurt a bone on my body! Please don't hurt him any more!" She seemed overly defensive, perhaps Stockholm syndrome? Vergil could only wonder with an annoyed expression.
Waving her off, "I'm simply seeking information, and your-"
She interrupted Vergil with a loud voice, almost begging him to stop pushing it. "He ain't the smartest guy right? He's an honest man truly, Crono won't hurt anyone again I promise, he just ain't know what's best for him sometimes." She was almost begging the son of Sparda to leave him be…
A cobbled together defense.
It seemed that this woman genuinely loved the drunkard, Vergil wasn't impressed… An abrasive man like that was easily prone to anger, and to substance abuse… The half-devil muttered to himself about foolish women, "I'm not going to exert myself, but all I can ask is again…" Placing another two coins on the counter, a total of four gold coins being donated.
"I need information about the OTS."
She seemed apprehensive, almost guilty… Staring at the two golden coins and considering that he wasn't here for any payback, Vergil caught her obvious consideration and felt a smirk grow on his lips.
Fortuna was a place of capital if anything else, money meant survival, money meant change, money meant food, anything and everything in this town required money to some extent, cold hard coin and the ability to make a profit were the core abilities required of anyone who sought a living in this place… Foolishly, mutual aid was nearly non-existent in this town… A fact Vergil seeked to rectify.
But one step at a time.
Sighing heavily, "Alright, I'll let ya see him. But please don't disturb his injuries much, he's still recovering." Bianca realized Vergil meant no further harm, his eyes bore a gentle mercy to them
The silver-haired devil cracked a smug smile, "Rightly so." If there was one thing Vergil would not stand to see, it was a fish trying to act big in a small pond… That and people who dismissed others without proper basis, foolish individuals incapable of seeing the world and its people.
But nonetheless, if this man could inform them about the OTS with any sense of accuracy… He could be invaluable, and Vergil hoped that with how utterly he'd been humiliated… And the four days of being bed-ridden to boot, that perhaps the man had humbled himself ever so slightly.
'Of course, some men just are too stubborn to be changed so easily…' A fact Vergil was acquainted with quite well, even if he did come to hold rather positive views on humanity and people as individuals…
He knew how easy it was to be lost in your ways, the countless days he spent traveling this world in search of Dante led him to many dilemmas… Especially of those lost, it was easy to lose yourself…
And harder to be saved.
And so Bianca exited behind the counter and waved the two devils over, "He's a bit cranky still but… He's calmed a lil bit." Leading them down the hall, Blooke shifted nervously and played with his hoodie strings… Carrying a small container in his hand.
Vergil on the other hand was entirely confident in this situation, immutable, a wall… A mountain top. The very peak itself. Of course someone in his line of work could be no less, "He'll watch his tongue, I'm sure." Bianca only nodded with a nervous chuckle, picking up her pace slightly.
In apt time, the bar-keep led them to the semi-living quarters behind the main bar.
Muffled voices begin to sound out, one adult… The other is a child? Quietly pressing against the doorknob and turning, Bianca's face morphs into one of annoyance.
"Credo!"
The door shoots open to reveal the drunkard from the other night and a small boy sitting on the side of his bed, they look as if they just got caught in the headlights of a moving car.
"Er, hey Mom…" The boy spoke, almost cordially, a different accent from his more traditionally accented parents… Almost as if his language skills were developed beyond what his parents could offer him. "I was only keeping Father company…"
Biancarolled her eyes with a small smile, Plucking the small child from his comfort, Crono held onto the boy with feigned desperation. "No, don't leave me boy!" Laughing, the man is clearly under the effect of painkillers. "Fight back boy!"
"I'm trying father!" He squirms in his mother's grip, failing to escape.
The two devils standing right outside the room stare at each other suddenly, sharing bemused glances at the almost conventional interaction.
Biancafinally gets a reign on her son, "C'mon you little tike, you know you aren't supposed to be disturbin' daddy while he rests." The young boy mewled in disappointment, huffing and crossing his little arms… It seemed Crono had raised a child just as affront to listening as he himself was, damn…
Carrying the small boy on her waist, "Oh and, honey, you have visitors… Try to stay calm, please." Bianca then exited the room, nodding to the two devils with a pleading face.
Credo watches them enter his father's room, "Mom, who are those men?" His small and trepid voice seems almost curious, and a little afraid for his father's sake.
Bianca doesn't know how to reply initially, "They… They're here to help, I hope." The little boy blinks a few times, staring up towards Biancawith a slightly furrowed gaze.
"Ok…"
"R-Reno?"
He expects to see his friend, his dear old friend… The man who never left his side even after everything, his only hope that anyone in this town could ever reach a hand out to him… It was something he treasured above all else, loyalty…
But to his disappointment, instead of Reno, he was met with two devils. Swallowing with a slight edge and fearful rescind. "..." What could you say in this situation? His senses were muted quite a bit by the painkillers, calming his mind as well… But the overwhelming dread upon seeing Vergil, this giant of a man standing only a few meters away… Someone capable of breaking bones with a casual kick.
It was terrifying, even to him.
Vergil takes a chair and brings it up close to the bed, his eyes analyzing the man before him and noting every possible detail… His shirtless body being wrapped in bandages, his right hand similarly covered and healing. Sitting reversed on the chair, the rather intimidating gesture only frightens Crono more.
All the while, Blooke stands in the corner of the room, thinking about how much he doesn't want to be there… Not because he doesn't want to fulfill his goal, but because he's scared of eventually having to make that goal known…
Crono doesn't make eye contact with his former assailant, "What… What do you want…" A quiet whisper, far from the drunken rage the two devils associated him with. "You want… Money? Huh? Compensation, c'mon… Spit it out, or beat the shit out of me, just get it over with." Crono was almost… Accepting of any punishment, too accepting…
Grunting with a slight approval, Vergil felt a small smirk appear across his features. "Fortunately for you, we need neither. Only information." Admittedly, he felt a sense of guilt run underneath his skin at the sight of this beaten down man.
Well… A slight sense of guilt.
Finally meeting his gaze, "I ain't saying shit to you, devil sympathizer." Crono spat out haggardly, crying out in pain after jostling his still mending rib. A foolish human doesn't know the limits of injury… Vergil scoffed.
"You're not in a position to refuse I'm afraid, however my friend here…" Gesturing to Blooke with a tilt of his head, "The one you decided to treat like a lesser being, he has created a sort of peace offering that should help you make a full recovery, consider it an apology." The injured human scowls as Blooke draws close, trepid and almost terrified… Although he was not one to hold grudges.
Did he really think that the borderline crippled man would be a threat? Foolish, "Accept our token of apology, if you would." Finally, the trepid SDT comes to Crono's bedside with a tiny container.
Click
A green light floods through the room as the container slowly opens to reveal its contents, an… Almost crystalline, star shaped object; shining a deep green, calming waves of energy rolled from its charging revitalizing coalescence.
"A vital star, a stone so condensed with healing energies that even the slightest touch can heal grevious wounds." Explained the half-devil, his voice losing most of its edge.
Vergil knew that all you needed sometimes… Was a push from kindness, no man could change by the decree of another… But his will to do so could only be sparked, turning to life almost instantly.
To face apprehension… "Why would I trust that…" One must be willing to change.
Vergil rolled his eyes slightly, "Do you want to get out of this bed any time soon?"
"Yes… But…"
"Then take the star, Crono." The first time Vergil used his name, and yet the man still gazed towards the vital star tepidly.
But… He reached out, finally. Only to retract his hand with a laboured grunt, his ribcage acting up again… The painkillers were beginning to wear off.
So Blooke did what was in his heart, taking the vital star out of its container and holding it out to the man in a gesture of kindness, even despite what he'd done to him… Something almost unthinkable, the waves radiating from the stone releasing raw healing energy that soothes the pain… Seeing the capacity for forgiveness in the very SDT he'd thought lesser than him, that he abused without second thought... Something clicked in his brain.
Crono took the star.
After all was said and done, not much came of the interaction admittedly, unfortunately Crono was not well versed in his own organization's inner schemes. Merely listing off information anyone could gather, but not all was lost…
The healing effect of the magical star activated almost immediately, healing his wounds and mending his scars… Healing ills of his body that weren't even apparent to him.
But still, there was work that needed to be done.
Allowing the man a moment of recompense, Vergil exited the room after his meagre questioning with a small sigh. Crono wasn't someone with the knowledge or influence to help them much, but he still served as an almost colloquial gap-closer between them and the OTS.
'This won't be as easy as I thought, these people worship Sparda as a God and act through him… And the irrationality of their mission is rooted deep, too deep to sever easily.' Brooding outside of the backroom, Vergil relaxes into a chair just outside, brushing his coat away to reveal his poetry compendium.
The half-devil feels a presence next to him.
Turning to the sight of the small boy from earlier, he stares right at him with an almost miffed look. "You're the one who did this to father… A man with snow white hair…" Even for a child no older than five years old, he held a certain edge to him… Sharp yellow eyes brimming with intelligence. "Why?"
It was… Peculiar to see a small child, so… What's the word? Curious. Especially in regards to the man who'd sent his own father into the infirmary.
So he humoured the small child, his button eyes and grey cap made the half-devil realize something… "You're a shoeshine boy aren't you?" He certainly looked the part, with his little cap and button-up jacket. Children were expected to labour as well in low risk jobs, when they weren't attending school of course…
Credo took a step back, "Uh… I'm not supposed to tell strangers my profession." Only to clamp his mouth shut, realizing the folly of his answer. "Gosh darn it!"
The larger than life spawn of Sparda then took the boy's cap with a quick movement, "I just stole your cap." Vergil stated the obvious, The yellow eyed boy blinked, once, and then twice.
And then, there was indignation. "Hey!" Reaching for his cap, Credo seemed distraught and yet… He didn't call for his mother or father, certainly associating a little spunk to the tike was appropriate.
"You feel angry do you not? I've just stolen your cap, taken it without your consent, without your approval."
"Yeah!?! Give it back?"
Holding it just out reach, "Ah, but that's where the lesson comes in…"
It was tough dealing with children… Even the most intelligent often couldn't catch things with too much nuance, so it was best to paint a simplistic and practical picture, easily digestible by a still developing mind.
Vergil quieres a brow, "What will you do to enact justice over the fact that I've stolen your hat? Call your mother? Your father? Or will you take matters into your own hands and take it back from mine?" Credo stopped for a moment, looking as if he was about to call for one of his parents… But he stopped, realizing the trick to his question.
He then leaped onto the half-devil's knee, reaching up for the hat. "I'll get it back, I'll beat you up if you don't give me it!" That's the fire… That's the way!
Vergil released a tiny smirk, lowering the hat suddenly and allowing Credo to grab it. "And that is why I hit your father, because he was about to steal something from me." Credo jumped off the half-devil's knee, seeming perplexed suddenly
"He tried to steal something? He'd never do that!" It was almost innocence embodied, this child had grown up with unconditional love… Hm.
"Not something, someone."
Credo took a moment to realize, "... You mean, your friend?"
"Yes, and so I had to fight to make sure he couldn't steal him. Does that make sense?"
Credo blinked a few times, looking at his hands in awe… "That makes sense… I guess." He groaned, "But I still wish you didn't hurt my dad, he's… He's my best friend." The small boy uttered sadly, almost enough to pull on Vergil's heart string.
Giving the shoeshine a wry look, Vergil took his cap again. "Hey! What-" And then he placed it firmly on the boy's head, adjusting it perfectly and then clapping him on the shoulder.
"Keep your head up, infant child, your father will be quite alright." Vergil gave him his first smile of the day, a rare sight to see.
Credo smiled back, for the first time as well.
"RISE?"
Bianca and Crono look at one another, "What's this for?" Vergil placed a card on the counter with that exact word, location, and cell-phone included. "Is this your business?"
Shaking his head, "Not quite, it's a joint security firm, cooped by me, Blooke, and two others… We seek to eradicate the growing monopoly on force the OTS are beginning to wield-" Of course, Crono is immediately skeptical at Vergil's description.
His angular features flared with indignation, "What the hell? You tryna go up against the Order? I mean… I don't get the higher ups sometimes but they protect us from the demons!" Vergil nodded simply, thinking of a way to explain this much like he had to Credo.
Crono was a simple man, a very impressionable person behind all of his anger and irrationality.
A lightbulb appeared above his head, "Of course, but another option, a cheaper option, is always preferable, no? And you'll find that my blows are a lot stronger against demons, than against you… For example." Crono gulped at the memory, a single kick was all it took to send him crashing against the wall; a single kick shattered his ribs on contact.
And now… He stood again, painless, better than before… And more reasonable, "I assure you, although SDT's may have infernal blood, their hearts are just as human as any of you…" Crono scowled at the idea, closing his eyes in denial before sighing.
He nodded against his better judgment, "Thank you… And extend it to your little freak friend too, I'll let you come to my-"
Biancaslapped him on the arm, "Our. Honey, our." The man smiled humorously, rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes." He then stared more thoroughly at Vergil, dots connecting.
"I'll let ya hang here, but don't think that I want ya here… Just like Bianca said, a customer's a customer… But I ain't gotta like you."
Vergil only smirked, a rare geture, "Then do take care, and remember… Call. " Making a gesture for the cellphone with his fingers, Vergil nodded before turning towards the exit. The larger than life half-devil nodded again towards Blooke, the SDT snapping to attention as they moved to leave.
Crono took one last look at the business card.
"RISE, huh?"
This town… Was sick, well… Not quite. But it seemed that way to Vergil. Sure, freedom, security, wealth, prosperity, all these things are easy to come by in Fortuna… Hence the name.
But people here looked past each other… Through, eachother. Almost as if they were never there to begin with, those who did fail… Those who did cry out for help.
They were not seen.
For a city built around the supposed feudal land of Sparda, it lacked a core tenet of Sparda's existence and will… His sacrifice, and now this town blinded by their own desires and blind to the desires of others, to the world around them… They'd soon realize that the very people promising to protect them, seek to dominate them utterly… To ignore the poison is to fester it yourself.
But now… Vergil could only read, to take his mind off everything… He needed to focus, he was here for one sole reason. And so he placed a book back on its shelf, scrying the library for any information on the OTS.
Step
Step
Step
Those large footfalls… A ghost had crept into the midst again. "So, you've come to find… Your father's legacy?" A guess, a rhetorical one. And yet Vergil was not scared, nor was he Intimidated.
No… "That… Is none of your concern, leave me, specter." The corrupted soul was taller than even Vergil, and yet… Was so thin that it seemed even the breeze could knock him over, a scar marking his face almost as if branded intentionally…
He did not react outwardly, continuing to step forward until with a small glare, a single summoned sword appeared directly ahead of Arkham. "Hm. You truly do bear the blood of the saviour then, I find your aggression misplaced, however." He spoke as if in a different world, as if from a different time, there was no accent, no stutter, no imperfection. Merely language, merely verbal noise.
But…
He merely slid his finger through the burning sword, its flame licking against the wound of the sharpness it levied. And yet… The weightless being felt no pain, no discomfort.
It was… Admittedly offsetting.
He continued to thumb the blade, his dark voice chilling the very air around him. "People… Inherently fear evil, fear us, infernal beings… Unlike their own ilk, and yet… There are some who see evil, and are…"
"Seduced by evil."
The summoned sword dispels, "You don't know just who you're dealing with… Do you?" Vergil begins to chuckle resoundingly , drawing the ire of the librarian and yet…
He turns to stare down this ungodly specter, "You think I'm in desperate need for power? Do you? Don't make me laugh." Now that seems to put him off, almost as if he expected differently. It gave Vergil no limit on pleasure to see the stoic being shocked, however little.
"Ah… So you've gained power, but will it be enough? And will it help you find your brother?" The fact that the unnatural cambion knew this was unsettling, but not impossible… Clearly he'd been stalking Vergil for quite some time.
"Your mind games won't work on me, false devil."
Suddenly, a dozen or more summoned swords burst into life around the specter, "Now, leave me… I will not ask a third time." Holding tightly onto his own book, Arkham, as the man-devil called himself, bowed out.
And as he walked away, he only had one thing to say.
"There is a storm approaching, Vergil."
"Of course…"
"I have already arrived."
