Chapter 25 ~ Shape of Despair
Lady could see lights, the glowing embers leaping and twirling in a fiery dance, all twinkling like stars above. The churning air was hot, and she saw the embers cascade to earth like gleeful fire fiends.
Once she entered the cemetery, the sight before her overwhelmed.
Snow fell, but only here in this place, accompanied by the charred remains of a battlefield, perhaps suggesting the snow to be ash.
Tombstones desecrated, massive stains of blood pooled around the ground, and all at once a shiver rolled across her spine.
Tree's lay smashed and broken across the churchyard, and up on mountain high, the murals of the cathedral had been shattered through.
Before her, Modeus's body crashed to the ground, crushed and broken. The wind in his face made it impossible to breathe. He fell on his face moaning from agonizing pain, barely able to lift himself up.
Right ahead of him stood Vergil with menacing eyes beyond all that she'd ever seen him exhibit before.
"What's . . . going on!?" She whispered.
Once Vergil looked at her, she couldn't help but feel compelled to fear. Something wasn't right, the one looking at her did not resemble Vergil.
Gone were the deep baby blues he shared with his brother, and gone was the red hatred of his rage.
Now in their place were eye's of silver, ones that she did not alone comprehend.
"Welcome, 'Lady Prostitute.'" He chuckled, walking slowly toward her, "Are you here for a second round of fornication with your little man-whore?"
She was going to lose her temper if he kept talking that way. Immediately, his voice put her on guard, and she maintained a considerable distance from him.
Taking one step back, she reached beneath her poncho and rested her quickdraw hand on her personal pistol. The rain drenched both of them to the bone.
"Wh-What do you mean? Why are you saying that?" She asked him.
"Aw, could it be? Were you really so blinded by lust as to not understand what goes on before you?" The man told her, "Vergil spoke of love inside this head, delusions of grandeur."
Lady pulled her Beretta and aimed the sight straight at his head.
"Who are you!?" She yelled at him, the past informing her that who she saw before her was not necessarily who they looked like.
His face was so much paler than before, to the point of translucency, a million veins running through his face.
Then, it hit her, the man in the tan cloak. The 'strange man' had a description very similar to how Vergil looked now, and only then did it dawn on her.
He had been the one to activate the shrine, he had somehow gained control of the wolves, Jester was just a distraction, a clever ploy.
"It was you?" She said, her pitch low, "You are the one who hid inside that shrine and spread fear across the outskirts of town."
"You're a perceptive scar, but that is merely one facet of my divine plan." 'Vergil' mocked her.
O mother, the pain this one man had inflicted upon her, both knowingly and unknowingly.
Did that change her perception of the man? She had yet to even understand who this was.
Lady grimaced and wished more than anything to burn him to pieces . . . and yet, this was still Vergil.
"I have no time for your stupidity." His voice changed into a wholesome, angry creature.
He displayed a weapon she was more familiar with, the Force Edge. He circled the blade in his hands, as though the broadsword held no weight.
Lady felt fear weaken her resolve, and her knees twitched, threatening to tremble. Still, she stole herself and tried to make sense of this mess.
"What happened to you, Vergil?" Her voice almost broke.
"Hmph," The man said and shrugged, holding his arms out at his sides, "Your guess is as good as mine, I can't seem to find him in here anymore."
The calloused replacement for the man she already was struggling to know came about once more while she wasn't even aware.
Her teeth clenched as anger overtook her, she cursed under her breath.
She heard herself let out a shrill cry, and then she reached back for Kalina Ann, slinging the large missile launcher off her back to her side.
Pressing on the trigger, the missile launched and he stood still, almost as though he didn't have an understanding of what it was.
The air contorted around him, and he felt the blazing flames of the weapon as it exploded.
Engulfed in shrapnel and fire, her view of him vanished and she waited for a result.
The fine embers billowed away and spread out, and from the epicenter emerged 'Vergil' unharmed. He admired his untouched reflection in the blade as he walked on.
"Oh, you're going to need something much stronger than that, low creature." He spoke coldly, and charged the Force Edge forward in a stinger.
Sliding across the field, he almost tore right through her, though the woman instinctively dodged off to her right, rolling away with her arms positioned behind her.
Lady tried to sprint forward, away from the mad man, but 'Vergil' quickly seized her right wrist in an abrupt death-grip. Horrible pain ran through her arm, and she felt to scream.
Her foe seemed to relish her pain, torturing her simply for his own amusement. And in all that, she was amazed her arm didn't snap.
The man shook her violently left and right, throwing Lady about like a marionette. He laughed, she nearly cried.
Using the bayonet of her missile launcher, she jammed the barrel at his face, and to her luck, it worked. He cringed and hurled her off a few feet.
She slid across the ground but managed to stop herself, crawling back onto her feet as she saw the man stride toward her.
His wound had healed fast, nearly closing completely.
She drew her Uzi and fired nonstop at his face, content to brute-force her way through him for the pain he caused her.
The bullets peppered him and did nothing, falling away from his flesh compressed.
Grimacing, 'Vergil' flashed forward and swiped upwards with the force edge, slicing the gun in two. She looked flatly at the handle of her pistol as a hand grabbed her jacket's lapel.
Hoisted off her feet, she had to contend with a hand around her throat, and in a moment, she was dangling off the ground. She hung in the air a solid foot off the ground, choking.
Finally, the rage took over, and she grasped her combat knife, plunging it through the man's thick forearm.
Grunting, he maintained his hold, and soon, she began to punch and kick and thrash against him. Every conceivable attack accompanied by the increasing shade of red across her face.
Why had he not chosen to stab her with that blade? He didn't seem interested in killing her so soon.
Then, she drew Ivory.
A bullet pierced his chest, and he reeled back, dropping her. The man gasped for air as she choked and coughed, rubbing her own afflicted throat.
He saw the weapon.
"You dare!? You dare use the dead man's tools against me!?" He said, launching a stab at her waist.
Using the barrel of the gun, she guided the sword off to the side and threw a punch to the bullet wound. His face crinkled and he seized her once more by the throat with his right hand.
She felt her feet leave the ground, this same stupid routine.
The wound in his chest was lasting longer than the others, and it spurted blood as he realized this body had a weakness.
Lacking the strength to keep her strangled, he threw her away, and she rolled back onto her feet effortlessly.
Enraged, he slashed his old foe's namesake in her direction, and a red shockwave rocketed towards her. Somehow, she dodged to the side, and so he sent out another.
This one was horizontal, and as she began making her way back toward him, she slid under the slice, missing the deadly drive by just an inch as it trimmed hairs off her fringe.
Maintaining her momentum, she twisted and dispersed her momentum, rolling forward at him, and when she was upright again, she launched herself, pushing her feet against the ground.
She unloaded as much as she could using Dante's old weapon. Two shots struck his left arm.
They stung him viciously and he lost clarity, staggering backwards. Lady landed on her side and knew she had to keep moving.
The demon king zoomed across the field and put 'Vergil's' boot into her ribs. She spat blood as she flew through the air sideways.
The world spun so fast she barely knew where she was going and she hit the ground some twenty meters away, landing by a damaged tomb entrance.
That one kick felt like a car crashed into her mid-section. The woman didn't know yet if it put her out of commission already.
Groaning, she tried to move and felt air in her lungs stifle, she had a fracture. Brilliant.
Footsteps stalked her slowly.
"You want to hear what happened to your little crush before I killed him?" A question that made her lose all willpower.
"He was literally begging for the life of his brother. How sad. The miserable apes tried to kill one another over and over, yet he continued to care for this imbecile I inhabit before you now.
Dante realized that he was at the verge of death. Finally, he couldn't win. It took the devil-king to put Sparda's lineage in it's place, and now I can hear his protestation from the grave as we speak."
He continued, "If only Vergil were here, the sweet suffering would bring a tear to your eye. He was always a sensitive boy, and now he has come home."
Lady's head tried to process what the man was saying.
Though Vergil was the body, the voice speaking was not his own, nor were his words.
Then, it clicked in her head.
His name is Mundus. He imprisoned me that night, after the tower . . .
He is the one who murdered Dante.
"Y-You . . ." She murmured.
He looked down at her.
"Yes, me."
"Mundus . . ."
The devil moaned and grinned, taking in the name as though it were just as pleasurable as sex. She heard his body settle itself, cracking in odd places.
"Yeeees . . . Finally, someone speaks my name again." The devil spoke.
"I-. . . I heard about you." She heaved the words, "But-. . ."
Mundus laughed, enjoying every minute, "I love the realization, the pure fear in their eyes when it dawns on them."
"Geh," She made this noise as she tried to adjust, feeling horrid pain in her ribcage, and then she yelled, "What do you want with him!?"
"Oh, you already know the answer to that." He said, mocking her intelligence.
"Bullshit!" She screamed, despite feeling breathless, "Why did you possess him?"
"Oh, I see. You believe that this is a new development . . ." He knelt down beside her and place his hand on the side of her anguished face, "I've been here the entire time."
"What!?" She wheezed.
"Every moment of his waking life, and the times when he believed he was sleeping, I've been here. I have always been with him, ever since he returned."
Now she understood it.
"H-He . . . He was never free?"
Mundus slowly chuckled, and the smile on his face grew as she despaired.
"I will have much fun showing you the shape of despair after I take this world by storm."
Lady's face was hidden by her hair, but her face screamed rage. Mundus was complacent before her, and so she took an opportunity.
She brought Ivory up to his face and squeezed the trigger, aiming straight at his forehead.
As if he were psychic, the man ripped the gun out of her hands the very instant she raised it to him and bashed it across her face.
Mundus was known for cruelty, and he was also known for vindication. It wasn't wise to cross him, but who said human's were ever wise?
Lady had been doomed from the start, and now she knew her eventual fate. Perhaps she hadn't changed it.
She reflected on what she'd been shown by Brad, that formless vision of the future, and believed it had come not to pass.
"I'm sorry . . ." She said.
"My pet, it's too late for apologies. You must serve me first before I give you release."
"I'm sorry . . . -Vergil." She spoke aloud.
The smile on Mundus's face faltered, "He can't hear you, he's no longer here."
She remained defiant.
"Vergil," She said, now barely audible, "I-I'm sorry."
Trapped in a world he never made, his mind had lost its focus. It was a torment like nothing else.
He knew there was light somewhere. He couldn't find it. This place was hopeless, all light existed millions of miles away.
And now here, he could only think on his sins, the lives he'd taken in his pursuit of power and the faulty redemption he sought under his brother's moniker.
What kind of man would take his own kin's belonging's after death? Surely, he'd been morally bankrupt long before now, it was only recently that he saw it.
The graveyard . . . Of course.
"Meet your doom upon the headstones indeed."
Once in a while, the blackness would react to his mind, and he saw the face of someone he'd loved in life, all those he had betrayed at some point or another.
Every time he reached out to that someone, a person he hoped would stay, he sunk a little lower. He now knew the pain of abandonment, the pain he'd left Helena in.
It was a cycle, his father had left him, and soon so had his mother and brother, though not of their conscious choice.
Then he left them, left them both to their own devices as he knew they cared little for him, or at least thought so.
But worse yet, he left her. He left her in that town, and now they all had left him again. Lust for power had hardened his heart and frozen his emotions.
It was all over. Mundus had won.
Out of nowhere, he started to hear muffled voices in the distance.
Slowly but surely he began to see the world again, but it wasn't the one he knew. The scenery was dark and murky.
It was as if everything that had existed in the human world was now at the bottom of the sea.
In this shadow realm, he saw himself mercilessly beating Modeus to the ground, using all manner of weapon.
He couldn't do anything still, as he continually lacked any kind of 'self' to pilot. Perhaps Mundus had wanted him to see the damage that 'he' caused.
"You will fail, I will not break." Modeus sputtered.
"My work is soon done here." Mundus replied, "Let the suffering begin."
After a moment Lady appeared. The man in red saw her and Vergil groaned, "No."
There she was, defiant, and he saw her fight admirably. He found himself trying to tell her however he could, screaming in his own ears again as he tried to scream at her the revelation.
Mundus beat her senseless and cornered her, and in the darkness he saw her laying there, broken as ever. Her will continued to take her farther and farther despite the damage.
But here she was destroyed by the mad devil's revolution. Mundus would dominate all, if given the chance.
He continue to drone, defeated, "No . . . No, no . . ."
That human spirit was unending, and he knew that it would somehow push her beyond even this, if it could.
He knew she would not be deterred, but how? Why? He never did manage to grasp the basics of humanity.
The Cambion thought he had, at least enough to seem convincing, but that was all just a front. The facade was crumbling now, and he knew not what to do.
He saw the two converse, and he heard the words exchanged.
"Why." The man's mind whispered, so sullen, "What-. . . What are you doing here?"
Darkness swallowed his vision yet again, and he was left with his thoughts, back in the void of non-existence, wherever this place was.
"Vergil, I-I'm sorry."
He heard Lady's voice call out to him. And then, as had become a habit, silence governed over all things.
She awoke faster than a cat in ice-water, late at night, hearing disembodied voices laughing.
They were stark and numerous, cackling in a broken, chaotic choir. Drowsiness get's folks killed and fast. Only the paranoid survive.
Just when Patty's eyes had adjusted to the dark cathedral, there came a brilliant flash that flickered and died.
It was not a bolt of lighting that struck the earth, but more like an almighty flash of an asteroid that blanketed everything; all together, all at once.
Moments later, there came the rumbling thunder, and right on cue, the rain began to fall haphazardly from the sky.
It sounded disparate, as if the sky wasn't entirely committed to pouring.
Then, somehow, it fell in great sheets, colossal rains flooding the earth to the point she could hear no other sound.
"Where am I?" She whispered.
The darkness weighed heavily on her shoulders, feeling as though it were alive, brooding and revolving over her. She couldn't identify anything around her beyond the murals.
Inside was so dark that not even an LED fixture could let her see beyond her own hand. She was alone, and the depth of that loneliness made her more fearful than she ever knew she could be.
There was a smell of . . . something. It was a putrid odor, one she couldn't recognize.
"No . . ." She exhaled a very soft whisper, trying her hardest to push away these horrible feelings that overwhelmed her, "I have to be brave . . ."
She knew something was wrong when, at the smallest nudge of a bench, rats darted out from under the church pews.
They scattered in endless directions and she could hear them scamper. They ran out in droves, brown waves running all over as though they were pursued by a predator.
She clenched her fists and started walking. The slightest sound would send her chest into orbit, but nonetheless, she kept on moving. Slowly but surely, she worked her way across the room.
. . .
When everything was quiet, she heard the chaotic winds outside rattling away at this old place.
. . .
Even the thick insulation couldn't protect anyone inside from the frigid temperatures.
. . .
A gigantic quake shook the very structure to it's basic foundation.
A sound came with it, something horrendous and huge, the kind of sound only something that was ancient was capable of.
She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart punching out of it's chest.
For a moment . . . she wondered if it was safe to even leave.
Wherein the world was she?
"Dante?" She whispered to herself and touched the cold, dusty handle, slowly turning the doorknob. She was soon to enter the field.
A man crashed through the central mural, bloodied and beaten.
She screamed and let go of the handle. The man's body crashed across the wood benches in the mortuary, having shattered a mural depicting Jesus Christ's crucifixion.
Looking around was magnificent, as she saw the interiors of the church lit up by the massive storm outside. The abbey was ornate, made of white orchards and smooth stone.
The massive, vaulted ceilings were a wonder of architecture, and she tried to steady herself. If only she could comprehend what was going on out there . . .
There, a statue of the son of God stood, nailed to a wooden cross.
His face looked forlorned and indifferent.
It was made of porcelain, and from it's eyes poured tears of blood, standing on the head of the aisle behind where the man had been forced through, and beneath was an altar to pray.
She had to hide, and she saw a confessional booth.
Thinking quickly, Patty rushed inside.
She closed the door and hid from her distributor of pain, Baul. The man in white had hidden her inside, and she did not know why.
Things were quiet enough, but she didn't trust him farther than she could throw a dump-truck; which was to say, not far.
So, she sat inside, not making a sound, waiting and waiting.
The man had laid unconscious, and she continued to hear intense battles break apart the scenery outside, first the screams of another man what sounded like Modeus.
He lasted long and fought hard, but was no match. He just wasn't powerful enough, spirit or not. She caught a whiff of that other smell again and saw the closed lattice-opening priests' used to talk.
Hesitantly, she slid the hatch open, gulping as she closed her eyes, afraid. Inside were the two clergymen who cared for the monastery, one decapitated, the other impaled on a steel pipe.
She stifled a scream with her hands and fell back off the chair.
Her back hit the wall as she began to hyperventilate. The world around her almost blacked out entirely, though she regained her senses soon.
Baul had killed them, and now he was inside the church with her, alone.
Slowly, she began to clue into her surroundings again as she listened.
Baul groaned out to no one in particular — he was still alive.
Patty clasped her hand over her mouth again and shrunk in place, trying to somehow hide herself within the small compartment.
She noticed a space under the chair inside. Could she fit? It was a desperate measure to begin with, now she was hedging bets on-
You know what, it's worth a shot given the present circumstances.
She quickly climbed underneath and curled into a ball. Thankfully, the space allowed just enough room for a small child like her.
She waited here, and waited.
Baul lumbered about as he tried to stand, muttering incoherent swears at a man named Vergil and Dante's father Sparda.
She heard Modeus struggle further outside before finally falling, and from the corner of her ear, she could just barely make out a woman speaking.
Who had arrived next? She had no idea if Modeus was even still alive, he'd grown silent, and the man they'd been fighting seemed not be fighting anyone else.
Where was Dante?
Where was Manah?
None of this made sense, how much time had passed since she'd been taken? It seemed like ages went by, even though it couldn't have been too long.
Had Baul place her within some sort of hexed sleep? Was she dead? No, her heartbeat was too fleet for that to be the case. The rain poured so hard still.
At least she could hear beyond the storm with the window shattered.
How long would she stay inside?
She had to make up her mind soon.
Creaking noises echoed out into the darkness as she pursed her lips and looked down. Baul's groans returned, growing closer and closer . . .
Would he find her? She hoped to hell he wouldn't, and yet he drew further in, dragging himself across the grounds empty-headed.
At one stage, he scraped the door of the confessional itself, and Patty clenched her knees against her chest.
She whimpered to herself as she believed wholeheartedly this was the end.
And then he seemed to just disappear, there was no sign of him she could hear in the walls whatsoever.
She waited for another moment, frozen. And then she let out a sigh as she realized he had simply gone.
The door opened.
Patty nearly squealed as Baul kneeled down, his face bloodied and his teeth bared at her. Seeing her, he growled, and she screamed as he grabbed the top of her hiding spot and tore upwards.
The chair came apart, splintering everywhere as she closed her eyes and ducked through his legs. Somehow, she made it through and quickly shut the confessional booth door behind him.
Bad call.
Running, she bolted forward, trying to reach the church's front doors. The white devil burst through the wooden barrier, growling mindlessly as he stalked after her.
Looking back at him, she saw his enraged face and accelerated her pace, but this distraction proved ruinous. She stepped on some sort of debris and slipped and fell.
She lost her bearing and her vision blurred as the steps to the foyer hit her forehead.
The world spun around her and she felt lightheaded as a man grabbed her ankle, Baul.
She screamed, and she put her free heel into his face.
It didn't stop him outright, so she kicked him again.
He let go of her and lurched back, yowling like a feral animal as he grabbed his face and fell backward, "Aaaaaaah, eerrrrhh!"
She almost left him behind but something made her stay.
The girl realized the man was in pain, and it saddened her.
No time to wait though, she turned around and ran to the door, managing to open it, and rushed out to see flashing lights.
It was chaotic out there, and she was showered instantly as she saw two other wet figures, speaking to one another.
"Vergil," She said, now barely audible, "I-I'm sorry."
Mundus smiled and stroked her cheek, and he pat her head as though she were a lowly dog, a pet to abuse.
"Hm-hm, come now. Your father promised me a sweet concubine, not a bullheaded witch." The man told her.
So that's what Jester meant. Well, that brought up an entirely new set of dilemmas.
A small girl ran at them, and yelled at Mundus, "Leave her alone! You'll never get away with this."
Grinning, he stood and turned to her.
Dante.
Horrified Patty gasped to herself and resolved to end this madness.
"Dante? Dante, what are you doing?" She yelled.
Patty never felt so unsettled, she'd never seen him smile . . . ever.
Lady coughed blood onto the ground.
"What-. . . What have you done to her?" Patty pointed to Lady.
"Mmm." He grumbled, seeming amused by her presence.
"Dante, answer me!" She yelled, "What did you do to her, why are you doing this!?"
He seemed to simply laugh at her, and then she noticed his eyes.
They were the wrong color, of what she'd seen of him.
Patty began to back away, and 'Dante' strode toward her, a pallid green energy peaking out from his eyes. She backed up against a headstone.
"What's wrong with you?" She cried, frightened.
Lady grimaced as she pushed herself with all the strength she could muster, lifting herself up off the ground and falling back against the mausoleum entrance.
She grabbed Ivory and took aim at 'Vergil,' the arrogant master having left it beside her as he changed his focus. She spat blood on the ground and steadied her shaking hands.
"Patty!" She yelled.
Both looked back at her as she screamed, "Run!"
She fired off a shell and it struck Mundus in the back.
"Ow." He yelled, annoyed, and quickly turned back to her, stomping across the broken battlefield.
She unloaded shot after shot as Patty took off running. She ran and ran, darting for the cemetery gates. 'Vergil' raged as he looked back at the girl and waved his hand.
The doors shut themselves on the spot, the chains magically aligning themselves, whipping around the metal bars and binding themselves tightly across the old alloy.
Patty grabbed the gates and wrestled with them, trying desperately to break the open again, but she failed.
"No!" Lady yelled, and Mundus used the distraction to close the distance.
In a flash, the devil king forced her head back and covered her mouth with his right hand. Simultaneously, he used his left to force Ivory off to the side, and she fired in vain at the ground.
The Lady mumbled, trying to say anything she could as he man-handled her wrist against the mausoleum. Holding down her right arm with that pesky weapon, there was only one solution.
She heard a crunch.
Lady's eyes widened and her wrist immediately began to throb. She stopped resisting him.
Mundus smiled as he heard her muffled screams from within his grasp, and wet hot tears streamed down her face.
Patty stood horrified, watching Lady's mangled wrist droop, broken.
'Dante' threw her to the ground as she bawled and cried, cradling her wrist while she laid on her back.
The man seemed perfectly content with the outcome and he grudgingly relished the release of the bullets from his body. His regeneration finished, pushing the projectiles out.
Lady was so tormented, it was the first time she'd had that bone broken. The type of pain it incurred was not something you ever really got over.
The man ridiculed her agony cruelly.
"Aw no tears, please," He pleaded, "You're wasting your suffering away."
She screamed at him, and with as much focus as she could, Lady thrash her boot-heel into Vergil's shin.
He grunted but showed no pain, nor did he budge. He maintained that sadistic stare, eyeing her curves as he mulled over the possible decisions he could make.
"Rah!" Mundus heard a massive roar, and he looked back up. Baul charged at him and ran him through with one of his blades.
Panting and bleeding, the white devil dug the weapon in as far as he could while the dark lord growled and grasped the hilt.
Mundus was enraged, though the damage meant nothing to him. This wouldn't have even killed Dante.
"You will be killed by me!" The wounded man spat.
He pressed into the devil king as hard as he could, using every mighty muscle, every little fiber of rage.
The man pushed and pushed and pushed, driving as far forward as he could. Mundus would not move.
The king placed both hands around the weapon and tried to force it back out, but oddly, Baul resisted him. He growled in the devil's face, and the two warred in the middle of the cemetery.
Slowly but surely, the white devil forced the imposter backward, his boots grinding against the grass.
"DIIIIEEEEE!" The man in white screamed.
Enraged, Mundus pressed both his hands together on the hilt and crushed the weapon in his grasp. The iron heated rapidly and expanded before it hit it's breaking point.
The weapon shattered, sending shrapnel out like a hand grenade. Razor edges embedded themselves into Baul's chest and face, and he fell backward several feet.
Lady felt a piece jab her leg and she screamed harder, discovering the fragment was lodged in her knee.
Patty was thankfully far enough away that she felt no shrapnel, though she ducked out of instinct.
The wound in Mundus's chest closed itself automatically, and he looked down at his clothing. It was torn to shreds.
Grimacing, he waved his hand again, and in a flash, his clothes were altogether repaired in an instant. Even the devil had standards.
He strode toward Baul, leaving Mary behind to whimper.
"Of all the things you've been hit with, of all the various methods of madness you've employed, you still keep returning for more." Mundus said as he grabbed the barely living devil.
He lifted the man by his neck and held him up off the ground.
Summoning Ifrit's left-handed gauntlet, he drew back his hand.
"Are you prepared for the kind of death you've earned, little man?" The man said to his nearly-dead enemy.
"No . . ." Baul muttered.
"Well, at least you were honest with me." He replied.
"Enough!" Another voice screamed, and a foot planted itself into Mundus's chest, and the possessed slayer dropped the white devil.
He grumbled and scowled, wiping dust off his chest as he regained stable footing fairly quickly.
"It seems tonight is nothing but a series of interruptions." The man said.
Modeus stood stall against him, still bleeding. He motioned with his hands then extended both arms, slamming his right fist into his open left palm.
Flipping both hands open forward, he drew his right hand back and clenched both back into fists. Spectral runes swirled at his fists a crimson glow.
"Your corrupt bargain to control this world ends now." The man in black spoke, enraged.
'Vergil' laughed, "Oh! Is that a fact?"
"More than fact!" Baul screamed as he summoned his remaining sword, picking shards of metal from his face.
The two brothers looked at one another. It was the first time either one had fought with each other since the old days.
Though unsure if the pairing would even work, there wasn't any room for questioning now, it was all or nothing.
Survival was key here, Mundus had to be stopped at all costs. Whether or not they would succeed in their stand was an entirely different matter.
"Ah, twins reunited at last. It's more than I can say for Vergil." And the mad man grinned again.
Pain blinded Lady, and she could not move.
Patty stood helplessly as a bystander, and she watched as two men already half-dead mounted a suicidal charge on Dante, the man she looked to as a father.
Why did it have to be this way? She still didn't know why he was suddenly the bad guy. Was it his lack of social skills? She couldn't understand what was happening.
Mundus struck first, rushing the demon in black, snarling with the rage of a caged animal, and Modeus twisted, letting his instincts take over.
He brought his right hand forward and the devil king's blade bounced off of it, and he turned out away from the fight for his brother Baul.
The devil in white lifted upward with his broadsword and struck the devil's torso.
Mundus stepped backward dueled the white swordsman with a complex series of swings, steel on bloody steel colliding through the heavy rain.
Baul struck rightward and the devil king parried easily, sliding the blade off to the side and swerving downward with the force edge.
The swipe cut across Baul's forehead and he screamed as Modeus cut back in, flying overhead with a front-kick.
Mundus simply stood and took it, and the man awkwardly shunted back. He landed and immediately defended with the rune shields.
Blocking first left, then using his right to block a jab, he just kept backtracking, blocking a myriad of fast strikes and blunt bashes.
He kept on the defensive, having to defend himself from a flurry of dark sword strokes that tore through the rain mercilessly.
The dark apprentice recognized those moves, they were the same as Vergil's. So, the devil king had gained control of the slayer's muscle memory as well.
His movements were rigid and precise, but crushingly powerful. Modeus knew he couldn't keep this up.
Mundus struck downward repeatedly till the left-handed shield 'cracked,' but the other brother came to the defense. Baul rushed Mundus, driving his elbow into the man's side.
The ploy worked, and he sent the dark lord careening off across the field. The man landed on his feet, digging his heels in as he was carried away.
As he came to a stop, leaving skid marks in the mud, 'Vergil' looked at his abdomen, then slowly lifted his head back at them. Those silver eyes snapped viridescent.
The darker of the duo saw that his summoned defense splintered and faded.
So be it. He summoned his red blade and maintained his rightward shield, preparing for war as though he were the Dark Knight himself.
Baul huffed out a languid sigh, steadying himself as he fought the urge to fall down. He gripped his broadsword like a samurai's katana.
Time to fight fire with fire.
The devil came down on them hard and fast, bolting after them like no other beast. He broke past the sword and punched Baul in the gut with Ifrit.
Flying back past him, Modeus barely had enough time to react as Mundus smirked thrashed Force Edge sideways, slamming into the mage's red brand.
Their time was like a fuse, burning fast. There's no stopping this now, he was Armageddon, and he was here.
The man in black almost left the ground as the attack knocked him backward.
Another round of ruthless strikes slashed into his flesh, he counted five in total, all symmetrical; two in each shoulder, another two in the knees, a one in his chest.
To finish it, the devil king launched his boot forward, sending the resilient man off his feet.
Baul, released from the crater in the cathedral's wall, rushed back around with a stinger of his own. Without so much as moving a muscle, the possessed slayer zipped backward.
Water burst chaotically in all directions as Baul stopped just where his target had been standing, and then felt flames engulf him as Mundus unleashed a blazing fireball.
Flying overhead, the man in white landed atop another mausoleum, but he caught his fall and righted himself on the stone.
His brother staggered out into the yard, leaning against a headstone for support as he heard the devil king laugh.
"When will you learn to mind how you go?" The devil said.
"When you no longer walk the earth." Modeus grumbled.
And the devil rose Sparda's blade for the finishing blow. Raising his sword to meet the king, Modeus's broadsword clashed against the force edge.
There was a moment of triumph when he withstood the devil's unending strength, but he soon began to falter as the steel overwhelmed him.
But Modeus was braced, feet planted wide apart, the line of his body perfect, and Mundus's attack barely moved him.
He swept aside his master's old sword, using the weight of the weapon against him, as Mundus's arm flailed uselessly for a blink of an eye.
Modeus stepped forward and plunged his sword into the devil king's stomach. The possessed man roared, and he was left stunned for a moment . . .
With the steel in his gut, he coughed blood and his eyes were wide with pain and surprise as Modeus yanked the sword upward, bisecting his torso.
The weapon missed the king's head, slicing through the left of his collar bone. He fell away, shocked; however, just like before, his wounds started closing instantaneously.
But Baul was quick on the prowl, fighting with pure venom coursing through his veins. The man threw his blade into the barely healed flesh from across the battle field, venting all his frustration.
Modeus hacked his own sword at the Devil's side, cutting into his waist, but something physically stopped him.
'Vergil's' hand grasped the edge of the blade, midway through his hip bone.
He continued to heal, his wounds closing around Baul's remaining blade.
Forcibly, the devil ripped out the weapon from his side and he bashed the handle of his sword into Modeus's nose.
The black swordsman spat blood into his opponent's face, but the devil continued, butting the hilt into Modeus's face once more.
The man fell straight on his back, unable to breath from his shattered nose.
He had no time to feel proud as Baul's fist smashed into Mundus's cheek, his other hand striking into the mad king's gut.
With his gauntleted fist, 'Vergil' grabbed the man's white-clothed arm and set it ablaze. The water was earthly and so could do nothing to this hellfire.
Grinning, the devil king kicked out the white devil's leg out from underneath him and then put a fire-laced roundhouse into his jaw.
He spun around like a wheel through the air, colliding with the only remaining tree that still stood.
Modeus remained grounded and felt metal fists grasp his jacket. Pulled off his feet, he saw Mundus's eyes staring at him through Vergil's face.
The devil licked the blood off his face and smiled. So evil was he, the assurance of insanity to the masses. What would he do next?
So, the man in his grasp fainted, seemingly falling unconscious from a lack of blood. Mundus was satisfied, the man must have realized it was pointless to go on.
A bullet ripped through his cheekbone, and he let go the sorcerer.
A parting gift from the vengeful Lady.
Almost immediately, the man regained his whereabouts and zig-zagged back, grabbing his sword off the ground, and then he darted in for the kill.
He slashed his fiery brand outward, across the demon king's throat, which, when opened shot blood down the front of his clothes, staining it as red as the trench coat.
Mundus jerked backward, and the sword was torn from Modeus's grip.
Instead of trying to retrieve it, Modeus reached out and grabbed his brother's broadsword still stuck in the king's chest. Now it was 'Vergil's' turn, thrusting force edge into Modeus's side.
Blood seeped from his mouth as the man gripped the blade run through him.
"Give up you useless being, I am a god compared to you and your lowly brother."
"Grah! You're a king of nothing, you'll always be cast out wherever you are." Modeus whispered dangerously.
They shared an intense stare, rage brimming from both of their faces, one strong and the other weakening by the second.
"I'll kill you." The man added as the blade in his side slipped further in an inch.
"Even- Even if that means killing Vergil?" Mundus spat the words, "This is still his body after all, I doubt Sparda chose you as a successor to kill his descendants."
Modeus's eyes widened, he was distracted for a moment.
Fire exploded across his back.
Mundus had twisted his sword and rammed it inward towards Modeus's abdomen.
His legs and arms still worked, so the sword had missed his spine, but the strike crippled him with pain.
Snarling like a wounded creature, Modeus drove his right knee into his enemy's groin, but the devil remained solid, only his expression grew worse.
He was even angrier now, the little worm was refusing to die.
Modeus muttered a latin invocation, and abruptly, splintered fragments of the tree trunks became animate, flying of their own volition towards the dark lord.
One pierced his Mundus right shoulder, and he let go of Sparda's sword. Then, the rest came, knocking him backward with no mercy.
Eventually, he hit the grey brick wall that spanned the perimeter of the graveyard, the wood spikes stuck him there, forcing themselves through to the stone.
Grabbing his mentor's weapon, Modeus pulled the blade out of himself and threw it right at Mundus's chest.
The weapon stung him something even worse than the bullets, the blade's unique properties tied to the lingering will within.
That was when Baul released an arcane spell of his own, the flames of cremation. Forcibly holding up his left forearm with the other hand, he released from a runic gate a blast of blue inferno.
He could go nowhere, so Mundus was forced to bear the brunt of the impact, somehow coordinated by the two siblings at odds. He held on, the rush almost overwhelming.
The flames tore at every part of his being till nothing would remain, trying to break him down atom by atom. Out from the raging blast, the voice of a demonic shout bellowed out at them.
The massive roar filled the crumbling skies, screaming death rattle shakes at the devil king's two foes.
And when the fires were finished, the man who summoned them collapsed his posture, grateful he still stood.
The two let out exhausted sighs, wondering if they'd succeeded. They'd soon have their answer. From with in the smoke, a white glow appeared.
Amorphous, it seemed expand and retract lightly. The matter swirled for just under four seconds in this mesmerizing pattern before it abruptly exploded outward.
It was vicious and stinging, the solid wall of energy repelling them both far away from the festering devil, slightly charred by the tag-team effort.
The wood splinters turned to ash, as did anything surrounding him in the immediate vicinity.
Just before it could reach her, Patty managed to run away from the gate nearby, and she felt the wave push her off the ground as she just managed to escape the kill zone.
With the devil's inhabited body, he repaired himself once more, trudging towards his troublesome distractions.
"I'm done with you two," Mundus said. His eyes were pure green, the veins in his face pulsing a mile a minute.
He banished all his weapons and lifted off the ground, floating without wings. He opened his arms wide and began to chant something that neither could decipher, a curse in an old tongue.
The brothers bth stood back up, game to push themselves even farther than they had before. As soon as they looked upon him, both were slammed back with a great, invisible brute force.
Still neither one would give in, both scraping to get up on their feet.
The two stood close by one another, barely alive.
Patty circled around everything, running as fast as she could to reach the other side. She needed to get to Lady. Eventually, she managed to get there, racing behind the still-intact graves at the farside.
Lady was out cold, the last effort to stop Mundus causing her an insurmountable agony. So she laid there, dormant.
The little girl tried to comfort Lady somehow, they needed to move. Patty had to get her to wake up. They can't stay.
"Come on, wake up! Please wake up!" She whispered, "He'll kill us, we gotta go just please wake up!"
No response.
She didn't know how to do this.
What could get her to wake up?
They needed to leave five minutes ago.
. . .
Patty touched the woman's broken wrist.
Lady woke up screaming horribly, and opened her eyes, delirious.
"God damn it!" She yelled.
Mundus ceased his assault on the brothers at the sound of her scream. Ceasing his levitation, he grounded himself and approached.
"Ah, Mary. I didn't forget you, witch." He started walking toward them, to the detriment of Patty's calm.
He would take what was rightfully his, his promised slave. And he couldn't forget Patty, yes . . . Allen Lowell's seal.
The man retuned himself and that disturbing smile returned. He marched onward towards his prize in all this mediocrity.
"And let's not forget about you, dear." He said addressing his former ward.
"No- No I . . . Stay back . . . please!" Patty cried.
She searched his eyes and tried to find the Dante she knew, anything as a last ditch effort to assure her she would not die here.
But there was none.
"Dante!?"
Suddenly, a sound ripped through the black red air, the sound of vengeance and power incarnate.
Mundus stopped dead in his tracks. A voice raged above them.
"So, there you are."
A blackened figure landed beside them, massive wings covering it's form till they parted to reveal their savior. Manah.
He saw Lady's wrist, and looked back at Mundus.
"Well, I see you've been busy, old friend."
The dark lord responded without wit.
"Ah yes, you. How great of you to join the festivities."
Manah held out his hand towards the fallen woman and a strange energy began to warp itself across the gap between them.
Her wrist cracked back into place, resetting itself without pain somehow as it repaired the bone of it's own accord.
So two did the shrapnel within her leg, as the object forcibly lifted itself out of Lady's and the would closed on it's own.
The sword fragment hovered in air, and while the woman's wounds had been cured, the piece slung itself into the morning star's grasp.
It appeared to disappear inside of him, leaving behind a flash of emmers that fizzled out.
"You better get out of here, leave him to me." The horned devil said.
"He closed the gate!" Patty replied.
"Hmph," Manah flexed the fingers of his right hand and the doors unsealed themselves, "There we are. Run along."
"You dare meddle in my business?" Mundus asked.
He clenched Vergil's fingers tight, and Manah glared back at him. The devil king eyed the duo as they hesitantly began to walk toward the exit.
"You're damned right I dare!" Manah roared as he lunged mid-sentence, pouncing his enlarged claws.
The devil king grinned like the cheshire cat, and he met the beast with a front-flip kick, launching upward coated in a flaming drive that sent the beast reeling.
His foe crashed into the hallowed stone of the church, while Mundus, landing on his feet, raced forward to his old rival and leaped off the ground, catching Manah mid-air with a vicious uppercut.
The steel gauntlets returned in full force, and the winged devil flew further upward as he reached out and clawed the adjacent church spire, stopping his momentum.
He met the oncoming king with a purple discharge of arcane energy from his mouth, and the devil was overcome.
Falling fast, he rocketed into the ground, tearing apart the earth beneath him.
The beast landed atop the devil, his cloven hooves crushing Mundus further into the ground.
A red bolt of electricity struck the devil's body, and he released a mighty crimson explosion of energy.
The detonation forced Manah upwards again, but not far. Quickly he came back down as the possessed slayer met him.
Pushing off the ground, 'Vergil' led with his elbow and tackled the beast into the wall.
Weakened by exterior damage, it caved in and the two fell through into the church.
Mundus's arm was almost ripped out of it's socket as the morning star gripped his limb and turned him face down during the descent.
Forcing the devil's face into the wood floor, Manah pressed backwards and forcibly tore at the man's left arm, ripping off the extremity altogether.
The devil raged, using his remaining arm to elbow his aggressor in the eye.
The beast let go and stumbled backward. The one-armed king leapt to his feet and turned with a punch, his right hook colliding against a church pew the beast had thrown.
Before his eyes, Manah saw the regrowth of the lost limb and the mystic repair of the clothing accompanying it.
"Interesting . . ." The beast muttered.
Mundus let out a forced exhale and summoned force edge. He slashed across the beast's chest, and down to his stomach.
In a blue light, he then vanished. The devil reappeared right behind the winged-one, sword charging down.
Abruptly, Manah turned, anticipating the arrival, and thrust his palms together. The blade stopped in his grasp.
"You dared to invade me," Manah spoke in a cold, murderous voice, "You violated the agreement, a mistake you will soon regret dearly."
"You should have known. In order to assure your authority, you must to take down other chess pieces to maintain it." Mundus barked, delightfully twisted.
"I will take your power, and the power of others, all of the safeguards I will break, and I will move forward to rule both worlds. It can only be done by my hand."
Wincing, blood poured from between Manah's hands, and he pushed the sword away from him. There was a great shove and the dark lord nearly fell on one knee, but he kept balance.
Striking forward with one rough hit, the beast ducked immediately, the top of his wings shearing off as the monstrous satyr swung his fist around and caught Mundus with a backhand.
Sent rolling back through against the the rubble of the benches, the possessed slayer managed to roll on his feet and slid to a halt.
Manah's face showed it's true form and he breathed the great fire, burning all the wooden objects around them into ashes.
Most of the doors remained intact, as did a majority of the murals.
Mundus persevered through the fire and the flames.
"Come on, where is that indomitable strength!?" The demon king scorned.
Enraged, Manah held out his right hand, and the fragment of the blade he had earlier absorbed resurfaced, swirling dark energies into itself until it grew and reformed itself into a broadsword all it's own.
Summoning Yamato to aid the force edge, and the two charged one another, ferociously colliding in the center of the church.
A shockwave burst from the blades, blowing out all windows and all doors. Those outside took cover as the shower of glass and wood splinters sped through the rain.
Bits of stone came away from the walls as well, rolling outside as the force tore apart the building, leaving only stripped out remains.
After a moment, a vast explosion of dark blue light prisms accompanied a delayed funnel of wind.
Yamato's judgement cuts released a storm of hell, and the beast was carried off in a trail of destruction.
Mundus smirked, Sparda's brat was good for something after all. Fate had preordained they would always succeed, so he decided not to challenge that notion.
If you can't beat them, join them.
Leaping out after the sailing body, the dark lord arrived back outside in the cool rain.
Mundus took the moment to relax and he banished force edge. He always had admired the craftsmanship of the katana, and demonic steel was a perfect element to shape.
Opening his left hand, he summoned an orb of indigo energy. Focusing hatred on the enemy, he clenched his fist closed, and all around them a storm of summoned swords rained down.
Chaos unleashed itself, the remainder of any objects outside becoming flattened beneath the pure might of arcane force. Only the mausoleum maintained integrity.
Manah felt a million blades pierce his skin all at once, they ran through his very being like the dark teeth of the monsters that should not be.
The devil looked sardonically at his old wounded foe.
"Have you had enough yet?" He questioned.
Rain hammered the ground, an impenetrable salvo of bullets. Livid black clouds reared up like a cobra readying itself for the attack.
They spat lightning mercilessly onto the pitiful scene below, which cut through the sky not unlike burning venom.
Mundus enjoyed the chaos, he brought this marvelous gift to all his new subjects across the world, so to speak as the path was clear to rule.
Summoning the sheath for the blade, he rested the completed weapon comfortably against the ground like a cane between in both hands.
His eyes glistered green hostility, and a meteor of Ifrit's blessing crashed down from the sky on the poor creature before him.
Blackening the earth, the burst of hot ash and blistering rock was the end of all things. Winter it had sent, of all times now.
Once the fog clear, Mundus could no longer see Manah.
"So, you were all talk in the end." He chuckled.
The moment he finished that sentence, he felt a painful stab through his chest. Large claws rested on his shoulder as Baul's repaired sword stuck out his front.
"Not a chance," Manah whispered and slammed him down to the ground, "I'll take you down no matter what."
The darkness spread across the city, and in all the rioting slaughter, two women, scared and alone, made their way to Devil May Cry
Lady grasped Patty's hand tightly, and they ran inside the building using the key Patty always took. This was the safest place for now.
They found a bizarre motorbike sitting there, it's engines already rumbling. What was it? She instantly the moment she looked at it that Manah had left it there as their escape.
It was silvery with goat horns near the handles and metal spikes around it's front with a purple headlight.
They had driven across the sloshing rivers of red water through to the wet gravel of the cleared roads and past the sounds of demon cousins and their wolfen brethren.
They reached the cozy office, but Lady knew she was still a target. In her mind, Patty was a liability, but it was because she too was somehow involved in Mundus's plan.
She had heard him say 'Allen Lowell's seal.' What did he mean?
She knew she couldn't let her into his grasp anyway, she had to make sense of what was happening.
Patty was innocent anyway, she couldn't be stuck in the middle of this.
Lady stared at her, so motherly in the instinct to hug and reassure. Everything was going to be fine, wasn't it?
This worry wasn't lost on Patty.
"Are you okay?" She asked, wide-eyed.
"Yes, but-. . ." She didn't know how to tell her.
"What?"
"You need to hide."
"Is someone coming?" The little girl was ready to panic again.
"No, no everything's fine. You just . . . You should hide. It's not safe anywhere anymore. Lock the doors and hide as best you can."
She didn't understand.
"Where are we gonna hide?"
Lady looked down and then back at the little girl.
"I'm not going to hide with you."
"What!?" She was surprised, "Why not?"
"I have to go back."
"No!" She yelled, and the girl ran to the woman, begging her, almost on her knees, "No! Stay here, please! Don't go back there."
"Stop," She said gently, pushing her hands off of her. The girl was growing hysterical.
"No! I won't stop, I can't let you die." A tear fell from her rosy cheek, "You can't leave, I don't want you to leave. Please stay?"
Lady knelt down to Patty's level and pulled her in, wrapping her arms around her.
The embrace was so sweet, and without either realizing it, the jewel lit up and a calming aura surrounded both of them.
"Shh, shh, it's all right. It's all right." She told her.
She stroked the young girl's hair, and she melted into her arms, crying her eyes out, "H-He tried to kill us. Why did he try to kill us?"
"He's not in his right mind sweetie, he's-. . . He's just struggling with a lot of things right now."
She whimpered, "But all those things he said."
"He didn't mean them, of course he didn't mean them." She said, looking back the girl's tiny face, "We all have problems, but you have to hope in your heart we overcome them."
Patty stayed silent, striking a pensive look down at the ground.
She felt weak, uncommonly so. Her head was pounding, but the feeling was recent.
It cleared itself just as quickly as she noticed it.
Lady resumed the embrace, and Patty hugged the scarred woman back. She held her tighter than anyone, the only person she ever held this tightly onto was Dante.
Minutes passed, but Lady knew she didn't have too much time to waste, she had to use Manah's gift and return to that battlefield.
"I can do this, run and hide. I'll be back for you, I promise." Lady said as she took the girl upstairs.
While their, she saw the weapon's cabinet. She wondered what was left inside it.
Lady inspected the shelving unit and grabbed what she needed, the only other pistol inside, Ebony, and a shotgun that lacked anymore than the two buckshots with was loaded with.
Patty murmured a goodbye, and Lady stroked the child's cheek.
"Be safe. I promise, I'll come back with him."
Her legs were still shaking, but the woman managed to return to the bike. She wondered what this thing was called.
Silently, Lady cried to herself as she knew the one she had grown to know was dead, at least in mind and soul.
Whoever that man was didn't deserve to bear the name Vergil.
Tears rolled down the woman's cheeks, and she revved up the cycle.
"Oh god." Lady sobbed, "I didn't realize how hard this would be. I'm realizing that it's been too late for a while now. I was such a jerk to you Vergil . . ."
She'd talk to anyone who would listen, but there was nothing by her.
The door locked behind her and that was the signal to go.
She took a moment to wipe her tears, but still, she couldn't stop herself from crying. Thinking about what could have been if things were different and she wasn't stubborn.
"But you're gone . . . Not knowing there's someone here willing to be there for you."
To Be Continued
Ho boy, that's this chapter.
Well ain't this just a lovely time? Sorry for the absurd length of this chapter, but it's exceptionally stuffed with character, action, and plot developments. That don't fit all at once.
Review Responses
You see guest, this is never going to be popular. that's a stupid fact that's going to haunt me for a while. But I'm not going to stop this.
. . .
To Guest, thank you for your defense.
And thank you too for informing me, but I already know that by the time of your review. It isn't like I'm making him some type of a romantic guy!
I mean he did abandon someone who was affectionate for him. I assume this is the point of your review? So, yes that's my answer.
. . .
J and Spicoli - I share your feelings. Eh, I'm letdown to be honest.
The game's story was a disappointment but I did have fun finishing the game. Thank you so much you two, that's a huge compliment I do appreciate it.
. . .
3rd Guest, I'm glad you are enjoying it. I did love the atmosphere in the first game, I wish we've seen it more in the rest. much appreciated.
. . .
StableGenius TR - I think you just gave me the answer to why this didn't get more support.
Because it's an anti-DMC series, people prefer simple and typical stories with the game's style more than anything that tries to deconstruct the story and analyze it's characters psychologically.
Overall, thank you. You got me at a loss for words lol
. . .
Turbo Sexaphonic - Gotcha :D
. . .
Most Recent Guest Review - *Whispers* "The Dudes are emerging . . ." Love the Tropic Thunder reference, that's so accurate and I didn't even plan that.
Okay guys, that should do it, hope you enjoy yourselves.