Enjoy.

Look up the video."Devil may cry 5 OST-Your legacy." The orchestra version of the song with the vocals.

That beautiful music, I consider it Lady and Vergil love theme. Fits for their scene here.

Chapter 30 ~ And There Will Your Heart Also Be

Ulmarag was not a sympathetic demon, but for what it had done in the closing moments of the fight, Vergil decided that it could live.

True to its scorned nature, the Sandman appeared at once repentant and oddly sobered from that derelict past. Coloring in the grey, the shades of the night came to birth the renewal of spirit and neon knights, nightmares banishing to become soft dreams again, the murky black of thoughts most impure finally subsiding. What a thing it was to look on the world and know that it had been saved. It hadn't fixed humanity, but for now, impending doom had been staved.

The Sandman was particularly mystified by this development. Though it only knew to destroy, even its own darkness could not find fault within the light.

"For the life that you've afforded me, you may live your own, far away from this city. Do not squander this chance." The slayer told the master of nightmares.

The beast, though burned, huffed and puffed, mostly alive. It knew when it was beaten.

"Alright . . . Alright, boy." It said sluggishly, "We've come a long way through the years, you and I. Time seems to make strange companions of us all."

"You speak truly, but don't let that go to your head." Vergil said, "The king of lies is no more."

"Truth is often obscured by words, but I feel him no longer. For this ruin, I bid you farewell. I hope our paths cross no longer." And with a groan, it turned and walked its own separate way.

Vergil simply watched on as it left, the beast a mere shell of its former self. He supposed that made it more human that it used to be. Across the planet, Aurora Borealis settled in, a beautiful sight to behold as the Devil's grip had been severed. Now here, the sign of angels had come, luminescent waves of soothing presence sweeping all around the atmosphere to heal those so damaged. From the dark dungeon's night came the brilliant radiance of a new morn.

The sun would rise soon.

Amongst the dirt near his feet, the man distinguished the Force Edge, stuck inside the ground by its tip, still pulsing, begging for another wielder. Beside it lay the twin pistols, Ebony and Ivory. Amidst all that chaos, there seemed to be not a scratch on them whatsoever, no structural damage having been dealt to either weapon. Superb craftsmanship. The slayer dawdled towards the blade and rested his hand around the grip. Surging through his veins came the power of his parentage rendered complete. The clamor of battle had passed finally.

He admired in the steel a reflection of himself ever so briefly, and for a moment, he'd sworn the man staring at him had winked.

A playful smirk breached his lips, and he whispered, "Thank you."

In a way, Vergil had never anticipated the return of his brother. It was an impossible wrinkle brought about by fate, the continuing will of a dying demon's humanity. He had much to thank Modeus for, the kind creature who's body no longer existed in this world. And even Baul, the brute he once thought to be the mastermind of this plot, was a simple bystander, a soldier caught in the triplet of rivalries, the protege's own battle against his brother, the feud between the sons of Sparda, and even the war of Sparda and Mundus that had raged on long after their vessels had fallen.

A debt was owed to many, but in a world that had been so drastically changed, Vergil knew fate held no sway over repayment.

Raising the sword aloft, he relaxed his posture and lazily propped the blade into the holster on his back.

Though longer a wait than expected, he finally heard Manah's footsteps approach him as the Daemon and the Lady disembarked Cavaliere. They both halted a few feet behind him. Great concern was evident in her stare, even though he couldn't see it. The woman who fought for his sake had somehow come through all of this alive. Words could not describe what he felt at this very moment.

"So, you made it." He said to them both.

"Yes. So sorry to disappoint you." Manah replied.

Vergil's lips slowly moved into a smile.

"And to think: I almost never heard that sarcasm again."

Lady had approached and she grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her, "Hey!"

"Yes?" He said.

" . . . It's you, right? I mean, it's really you this time, the real you?" Her face was stricken with worry and he knew the answer would cure her.

"Yes. It's really me this time," the man said, looking at Manah, "Mundus is gone. Forever."

Her smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. He could see how it came from deep inside her heart, her ability to bleed emotions finally returning from suppression. To see that brought light to his eyes and spread warmth in every part of him. A person smiles with more than their lips, and he heard it in her voice, in the choice of her words. And through that, he was relaxed. She was beautiful.

A single tear dropped from her left eyelid.

Finally, she could resist it no longer and fully embraced him in a grand gesture, feeling all oppositions to their bond melt away. His heartbeat was strong and sure. Her breath fluttered in his ear and he closed his eyes. He knew things hadn't been good between them when last they'd spoken, or at least not as good as they should have been. He admitted to himself that he wanted her by his side the moment they'd parted. Could anyone blame him? In a world thrown so terribly of its proper course, misfits like them had to depend on each other, and he found an irresistible charm in those disparate eyes the more he came to know her. She closed them, her breath shaken. Lady had to tell, she owed him this confession . . .

"Don't leave me."

It was barely more than a murmur, so much so that she wasn't sure if even he heard it. Of course he did.
She was about to pull back when she felt his arms take her into that great warm hug, made to feel so secure.
His lips pressed her cheek, and he nuzzled her neck with delicate kisses so faint they were like careless whispers.

Even when he was wrong he put his point across. This loyalty was where they fell.

She pressed into him, missing the way his cologne smelled, how his spirit reached no limit.

The slayer ran his fingers through her hair, cradling her darling face against his chest.
He pressed his lips to her forehead and left a long kiss for her, resting together as the drizzle above wept on.

She didn't care where he went, whatever else that happened, she only wished for him to stay here, stay here with her. She was so lonely. Through it all, they must've suffered, but only to free their pain. She begged his freed soul to stay here, just stay with her in paradise. This moment would last for them, as to him it was a pleasure just to be with her, to feel someone hold him and care that he was still here. Perhaps then he wasn't too far gone. Through morphic oceans had his heart traveled here, thrown from the maelstrom to lay with her once more, if she so chose.

"Ah, young love." Manah interrupted.

Vergil opened his eyes slowly and looked back at him, exasperated but not bothered.

Manah clapped his hands together, "Well don't mind me, kiss her again you fool!"

"Yeah . . . Can you give us a minute?" The Lady asked him.

Manah shrugged, "Forgive me, I find concepts such as love fascinating topics to explore."

"You'll be exploring the pavement if you don't keep quiet, goat."

"Hmph, it's relieving to see you back in shape again as well, boy."

Lady let go of him and stared at the sky, morning light slowly creeping in, "It's alright, we have plenty of time now."

Vergil thought on her words briefly, "Indeed."

So much time had they now possessed, free to ruminate on the future and what secrets it held, free to understand what their spirits could accomplish when sewn together.

The man saw a rock, the ruined remains of a structural pillar, and so trudged over to it. He sat down, watching the sky.

He remembered her, that adorable face becoming sullied with sadness. He'd brought on so many troubles for the child when all he'd sought was to shelter her from it. There wasn't a mountain high, nor a valley low enough, to keep him from fulfilling this goal, this promise. Perhaps there isn't anything powerful enough to erase the stain of guilt in his heart, but that didn't mean he wouldn't ever stop trying.

Manah watched on as the boy sat to stargaze, and he wondered why in all of this that he himself was still alive.

Had he done enough? Listening to himself, he had to laugh inside, here he was debating the moral quandaries of a human as though he were one.

In any event, he knew a fort could not be held without at least a representative of it's king, and so left for Vergil's business, leaving the duo to their own devices.

Across the sky, the hybrid's face darkened.

There was so much he still had yet to understand.

"Are you okay?" He felt Lady touch his shoulder.

Turning his head, the man pondered what to say.

"I-. . . I can't stop thinking of what Mundus put Patty through," He replied, a look of defeat in his eyes briefly, "The things she saw me do . . . What I had said, I don't think she'll ever trust me again."

He was lost in the shadows now, returned to the world fully in control but not knowing how this control should best be applied. So many things to worry about, so many people to protect . . . but her, this little girl who'd stolen his ole ticker ever since he'd first encountered her, those adorable eyes and that beaming smile still shining in his mind's eye, how could he ever make this right? He was relieved that she wasn't around at least, to see him now would undoubtedly spark within her distrust and fear, and he knew he simply couldn't bear to witness that. Of all the things he knew he'd done, the tragedies he'd sown between families not his own, the destruction of lives and the lost loves he'd torn apart for his own desires, none troubled him so.

How could this amazing young woman steal from him the one thing he was so skilled at guarding? Sounding off next to him came urgent concern.

"Look at me." She said. Vergil gazed back at her, eye's starry, looking for guidance, and she told him, "You are not defined by your mistakes. Love virtues forever on."

That is, until the child would speak to him and remove his doubt.

Who knew if she would say the words he feared most, whether she would kill the remnants of his human soul, or if she would accept him once more?

"Love?" He just had to ask, "How do you know? How do you know that she won't despise this face evermore?"

Her face was pained, and tears welled at the corner of her eyes, "I know."

She took a breath and nearly collapsed on his shoulder.

He rose to comfort her.

"I know that she knows you're a good person, and I know that she misses that, she-" The lady couldn't complete her words, she broke down, "We miss you."

He stood emotionless it seemed, shocked more so than anything. He felt it in himself, the same feeling as the last time that he'd been so lost, when he had fought his father's rebirth in that small sleepy town. And he'd laid bare for her all that he had felt, all that he'd kept hidden inside himself, and she returned to him spurned affections, told him to hide his love away till she could sort into place her own choices and outcomes. Was he the problem? Had he always been the common denominator in the lives of those that felt misery?

"I've been gone for so long it feels . . . How can I come back to this life again knowing that I am the one responsible for so much chaos?"

She enveloped him fully, tears streaming down her face, "I'm sorry."

His arms held her again, and she couldn't stop herself from letting go what she'd always meant to, someday.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "I shoulda been there for you, I should've stayed with you. If I didn't go, maybe He wouldn't have had any power over you, you could've broken free!"

What type of fire had she started now? Typical of her, she had always made herself a thorn in other's sides, ever since he'd first met her in fact. Who was he to talk, he was the problem child of the universe, a destitute demagogue with no audience to preach at. All of that guardedness, all of that worry fell away, and what remained was what he knew would be his only friend in the end, the conviction of his struggle against the dying of his light. Standing here with him, she finally spoke of her mind and its troubles, and he could only accept her for that with the same kindness that she had shown him.

She didn't need to do that for him. To listen was to understand, and she understood him so very deeply now.

Of the sea that surrounded him, she was the only other island nearby. Tears nearly came back to him as well, he didn't want her to ever drift away again. Please, she couldn't leave him alone again.

He was always alone.

"It's okay," his voice nearly cracked, "He is gone, I am here, that's what matters."

"I just feel-" She was stifled by her cries, "I just feel like you don't deserve to be hurt anymore."

And she continued to bawl in his arms, fallen to pieces. Every time he was alone, some part of him fell too, and he realized this part of her understanding. To think at one time he'd thought of her as a nuisance to his goal, an ambition that seemed psychopathic by his modern standard. Remorse had overcome his entire being, and he felt beholden to mortal shackles of emotion for the first time since he was a child. This is what raw humanity was.

Finally, she ceased to sob her salted tears.

Her words earlier sparked a question he had wanted to ask.

"What about you?" He said, a lump deep in his throat, "Do you feel like you deserve to hurt?"

Lady closed her eyes and heaved a long sniffle, clearing her face of water, "I know I haven't stopped hurting."

He stared at her, a broken thing she was. He himself was the same way, rusted and weathered. He'd forgotten this, how similar they were to one another. He drew his face in closer to her own and their lips grazed one another. She nuzzled forward and turned this connection into a kiss, her soft lips caressing his own like an old lover's touch. She wondered even now if, after this, would she have the courage to stay close to him, if she wouldn't simply run away again.

When their lips parted ways, he still held onto her and wouldn't let her go.

"I don't want you to keep hurting like I am. I want you to be happy. I want the both of you to be happy." He said.

She paused for a moment, watching his reaction.

Her head lowered into his shoulder and she held on tighter, it felt right to finally be here.

The Father returned home

She awoke suddenly, every thought transcribed in clarity, her vision in high fidelity.

She crawled out from under the desk and slowly peaked at the window. Her eyes took in every ray of light. A slight spring storm was passing by. She knew the horrifying night had passed her by. The silence stroked her skin like a cool summer breeze, smoothing her passion, taking away from her jagged edges. It had been one hell of a time, these past twenty four hours. Where had Lady gone? She promised she'd be back.

Patty ran to the door and slowly opened it, peaking outside. Everything was still, apart from the slight drizzle.

There was nothing in sight.

Lonely, starved of warmth, the little girl stared into the beautiful sky drenched in reds and purples from the morning sun. Worry sickened her, hope having faded as panic began to grip onto her mind.

Are they dead?

Had she been abandoned once more?

The little girl wasn't sure anyone truly understood or even knew: she feared to be left alone.

"Please come back." She whispered.

Tears began to pool at the corners of her eyes, a lump formed in the back of her throat, and she very nearly wept when she heard the sound of someone stirring slightly behind her.

The red-haired woman that sat upon the couch started moving. It was a graceful thing, like a jaguar that had been stirred from its slumber. Ever so slowly, she raised her head till she sat up.

Emerald eyes opened.

Now fully-awake, Patty closed the door and hurried toward her.

"Hey! Are you okay?" she asked hurriedly, "Are you finally awake? Like, permanently?"

Lucia placed her hand over her forehead, trying to recall what happened.

"All right . . . I think." She said and took a sitting position. "He defeated himself. The curse is lifted."

Her tired face adorned itself a smile.

"He- himself?" Patty, too, soon grinned anxiously. 'He' meant Dante, and Dante was alive! But what had she meant by 'himself?' She supposed she'd find out soon enough. Patty couldn't help herself, growing more impatient by the second. She began waiting for the real Dante to arrive and tell her everything was okay, that everything would be alright. But then . . . she remembered that expressionless face, his cold-dead eyes, and the veins in his flesh. The trauma of seeing him act as he would not normally act, twisted out of form.

The words had been, 'And let's not forget about you, dear.'

Just remembering the possessed mania in his silver eyes made her blood run cold, a shiver crossing her shoulders as she rubbed her tear ducts and just settled upon the sense of confusion even more. Should the man step back through his office door, would it really be him this time? Dante . . . There was so little she knew about him despite the trust she placed on his shoulders. But this world of his, this dark corrosive mess that dragged down all who stepped foot into its depths, she couldn't understand it. Had she ever truly known him or was it just circumstance?

"Child?" Lucia brought her mind racing back, "Your name?"

Patty shook her head and tried to focus her blurry sight, "Oh, I'm, um . . . I'm Patty, nice to meet you." She finally replied with a smile and took a seat next to her, "We were worried about you!"

Lucia scratched her hair awkwardly, "I bring you thanks, for help."

"Um . . ." Patty was confused at the word choice, "You're welcome."

The front door opened not a second later, and a man in red stepped through, his blue eyes restored, the feeling she loved returned to her, safety.

But the man held a different parting of the hairs on his head than the one she knew. Gone was the shaggy rightward part, in its place a head of swept-back hair, clean cut.

Once he was inside he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. It felt good to be in the confines of his home once more. Patty though, she had an involuntary reaction.

At the sight of him, she gripped Lucia's arm tightly and slightly hid herself behind Lucia's frame.

He looked at her and an immediate sense of guilt washed over that face. He knelt down and opened his arms. She would not come to him.

Doubt crept into his chest.

"H-Hey there, Patty?" He said in that old soft charm.

Still, she didn't move from her spot.

"I know-" he hesitated to continue, "I know that I said and did things that confused you. I acted in a manner that frightened you, but . . . I wasn't the one in control. There was another bad man, and he'd taken over me. I couldn't fight it because he'd locked the real me away in a dark place. Do you remember?" He said, and her round face poked up around Lucia's arm, "I promise, it's me now."

She remained worried, distrusting of him.

"Don't you know these eyes? They're only blue for you." He said and tilted his head down slightly so that they were eye-to-eye.

His usual smile, the reassuring smile, it had returned. She felt her heartbeat relax.

Lady had crept inside behind him slowly, her face proof positive, though she was in need of a serious shower and a good-long sleep.

"Patty," She said, and the girl's eyes darted to her, "It's okay." She told her, "I keep my promises, he's here."

Lady placed her right hand on 'Dante's' shoulder, and she stood beside him, almost leaning on him for support, herself also beckoning for the orphan to come towards them. Lucia soothed the young girl and placed her arm around her back. She nodded at Patty, a sign of approval that the man in question was exactly the man she knew him to be. The young girl looked up and understood. Silence lingered.

Then, those little eyes beamed brightly like a star, just as he remembered, and she came forward.

"You're back!" She exclaimed and ran to his arms.

Manah chuckled outside as he landed and Lucia couldn't help it but place her hand on her heart, for the joyous reunion.

Vergil's embrace was so strong, and she felt Lady too next to her, hugging the small child with the man. The slayer placed an arm around the mercenary, bringing the woman closer like a big dog happy to return to his family, stroking Patty's golden locks so fatherly. Perhaps he wasn't so different from his brother after all, she thought.

"There we go, you see?" He said to them both, "Right as rain."

"You're damn right!" Lady said, stuffy.

Patty's tears soaked Vergil's jacket and he rolled his eyes. What was this, the third time? Kids.

Still, joy and understanding pumped through him, he missed her.

"I was really scared there, you wouldn't make it." The little girl told them both.

He smiled and simply replied, "No, of course not. I'm like an ox, strong-willed."

"Yeah, and stubborn as the day is long." Lady chimed in.

"Don't you help now." He replied, then turned his gaze back to Patty, "Young ma'am, I believe I owe you a trip to the beach for your bravery."

"Aw, cut it out." Patty said bashfully.

Vergil felt the warmth spread within him, it was hard to believe how much he missed this little . . . Brat? No, that wasn't the right word, it was unbecoming. Little girl, he supposed. Little lady. For him, showing any emotion was like trying to scale the tallest peak in the world without climbing gear. He could try but he wouldn't get very far. Had Dante instilled something within him before he'd gone? A piece of his soul now resided within him, the fragment that had remained to fight the king of lies, and so now he didn't know if he was truly beholden to either name. He was now both brothers at once, but still Vergil.

He really must sort it out soon before the others grow confused.

Returning to the here and now, the man looked down at her and spoke the words he'd wanted to say for a while.

"I'm sorry."

Patty chuckled, and she pulled away to look at him, "Don't be sorry, you're alive, the bad guys are gone, and it's awesome, so shut up."

Vergil was undeniably surprised by her words. So, the night before held that little credence for her that she could forget it so soon.

"But-"

"I know." Her smile was tinged with pain, "We just lived through a horror movie, take it easy, okay?"

A smile crept across his face and he picked her up unexpectedly. She laughed and he swung her around like a spaceship. Quickly propping her back down, he ruffled her hair playfully.

"You've got a lot of heart." He told her as she huffed out a breath through the hair that covered her face.

"Well-" She cleared her vision, "I learned from the best."

A series of sounds outside cut through the moment. Vergil stood and turned back towards the door as Patty quickly ran to the red haired lady. The sounds were abrupt, loud, and ominous. He heard the footsteps improperly sway back and forth as shouts and clangs of metal filtered through the air, and he wondered what could possibly be happening next. Was it really another left-over? They heard the commotion calm somewhat as it became apparent someone was trying his hardest to move towards the front door up the steps. Lady's heart jolted sideways, and her hands readied at her guns.

Vergil glared at the front door expecting the worst.

Manah's hand opened the left door, and through the entrance slowly came a figure in white most familiar, barely holding on to life.

"Baul!" He muttered as the man collapsed forward onto his left shoulder. The slayer caught the fallen knight in his arms.

He chose to do something, he would help him.

Vergil touched the swordsman's forehead with his right index and middle fingers outstretched. He began to chant, focusing with all of his will, to save the life of his father's old pupil.

The process took time, summoning power beyond traditional existence was something that took more than the usual amount of time an invocation would, but, eventually, the wounds closed themselves. Every gash, each gorge, the slits and holes came together and healed, if not thoroughly, then at the very least on the surface, flesh wedded together in unholy matrimony. Black arts were not something he delved into often, but as it had become, he was no longer by himself in this body.

Slowly, and soon gently, the slayer steadily laid the white devil down on his back.

Baul groaned as his aching eyes pushed themselves open, and he saw the half-ling. Troubled breaths escaped his lungs.

"My brother . . . I sensed him nearby." He heaved the words, "Did he make it?"

Vergil sadly shook his head in response.

"Then my sense have failed me." The devil said, "I still feel him, but why did you help me?"

Vergil chuckled aloud, "I should've killed you, but knowing that your intentions were pure has changed things. You were not the mastermind behind our recent mystery, and while you might've endangered my friends, in the end you defied Mundus when it was needed most. Modeus, your brother, he went out honorably. What he sacrificed took faith and courage, he helped bring about an end to the Prince of lies, and for that, he'll be well remembered, at least to us. For his sake, I'm extending an olive branch."

He then leaned down and offered the white devil his hand, and though hesitant, he took it.

Raised up off his feet, the man looked him dead in the eyes with a more serious approach.

"I also helped you . . . because I feel that you and I are the same in certain ways. In the end, both of us lost our siblings to the Demon King."

Baul's jagged face softened as he observed the son of his master. He could feel the revelation that brought even more pain to him.

"Modeus," He whispered, pausing to take a breath, "resides within you."

"Yes. He is here, as is Dante. We're all here," Vergil replied, "We stand together as one. In a way, we are now brothers ourselves."

Lady raised an eyebrow and remained quiet, she had stood far back from them to give the silver slayer his space, and she knew now that Vergil had become more than himself.

The white devil steadily shook Vergil's hand as he realized the equity that now flowed between them, "Then I have nothing left here."

Perhaps one day they would need one another once more, another time when humanity would struggle once more, but the senseless bloodshed could be stopped if they simply worked together. Whatever their feud had been, the principle of moments enabled both to look past the actions against one another as simple marks in an outdated tally. The enemy of thy enemy is your friend, or so the saying went. As it happened, both fell in line in opposition to those who would threaten Sparda's legacy of peace. Standing together was more effective in place of remaining divided, however painful the sunder was.

And he stared at Vergil one more time, just to get a sense of the new man before him.

"Farewell, son of Sparda."

Vergil understood, and watched as he left. He could see very clearly how broken he was left, they were all a little damaged in the aftermath of this war.

He felt Lady's hand hold his own. It was comforting. It was new.

And the snowy swordsman had departed his shop, the doors jangling closed once more.

Silence fell.

". . . 'as is Dante' . . . What does that mean?" Patty asked him.

Vergil's eyes widened.

Right, he still hadn't explained that part yet.

The midday sun was the only good thing about the day. While the people outside tried to save what was left, they had only just started measures to rebuild their lives.

For now, only the citizens were sounding off, rejoining family members that had survived and mourning those who hadn't, returning to their houses close by.

Vergil and Patty stood outside watching the people crowd in the shops backlot for a moment.

Manah hadn't stuck around, he was more concerned with repairs to the demonic hierarchy, as though defeated, the events of the invasion had left much stripped out and flagging. Infrastructure would need to be rebuilt and he had just the perfect idea how to do so. His human allies, while repulsive to demon-kind, earned him the necessary leverage that he had sought, and for the slayer's aid, he would remember their time alongside one another. But such is life that his world once more beckoned to him. So, the morning star went his own way once more, bidding Vergil adieu. The man wasn't sure where and why the devil was leaving, but he couldn't care.

Besides, he knew this kind of mind, the diablerist would soon return . . . eventually.

"It's so good to see some normality again," Patty commented.

"Yes, a well-deserved respite." Vergil said, "It'll take a while until these streets are full of life again."

A familiar face appeared, surfacing through the crowd.

Tony.

"Hey, hey!" He said, and Vergil's eyes widened, "Dante! Dante, I made it!"

"Yes, you seem to still be in one piece." The man replied as the short man who'd not been present for so long made his way towards them.

He had some cuts and bruises, but he was no worse for wear.

"What's up? Did you guys make it okay!? There was this huuuuge explosion of light and thunder, the storm got really intense there, almost got taken out myself from some wolves." The man explained.

He kept talking and Vergil didn't listen. Patty entertained him though, she seemed to genuinely care for the man.
Well, there was no accounting for taste, as Vergil had said time and time again. A minute turned to fifteen.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and cut Tony off, "I'm going back inside."

With that, he walked back through his front door, the Italiano continuing to speak of his harrowing survival. If there was one thing that Vergil understood, it was that Tony could at least be trusted with Patty. Returning to the office's warm confines, he couldn't help but feel good, almost everything had been lost and nothing gained, yet they all still drew breath. For the generals, he poured himself a strong drink. Liquor was kept inside the bookshelf behind the texts he'd purchased, just in case. Lucia winced as she sipped on a cup of coffee. It was tepid, overly bitter and lacking in sweet texture. Nevertheless, it was a source of caffeine, so she drank like a sailor would their whiskey.

Lady was upstairs wallowing in a much-needed shower.

Vergil had prepared for her a black T and grey leggings laid out on his bed. The leggings had been found while cleaning out Dante's closet, and they hadn't been washed. Vergil's guess was they belonged to a female companion of his that he'd brought back for some . . . quality time. She must've forgotten all about them, whoever she was, so Vergil had stuck 'em in his washing machine and then dried them. Hopefully they fit Lady well enough.

Vergil came to the other seat holding his own mug, and he sat opposite the red-head demon.

"How are you feeling?" He asked her.

Lucia smiled at him, "I am well, your name was Vergil?"

"Yes," He answered her, "Don't ask why. It's a long story. You can still call me Dante, you're technically correct."

"Oh?" She asked him.

"You don't have to learn a new name."

"That is good news." She said, "I have trouble already."

"Never truer words spoken." He murmured under his breath.

"Hm?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Minutes went by, the crowd outside moving along steadily as Patty returned inside and walked upstairs.

"Pardon me, but what brought you here that day?" He asked her, confused about how she was tangled in this mess.

Lucia sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, her face seemed to be a bit bashful.

"I had desired to see you for personal reasons. I had sought to understand the gospels of your strange feeling. My people know of many alternate magics and I had consulted them. I knew the truth but when I arrived, I was attacked and silenced by a man in purple. Or at least, he looked like a man. I conceding it may have been poor time, the additional purpose for the trip had been less than non-manual."

"Uh huh." Vergil nodded, pretending to understand.

The gist he managed to gain from its jumbled mechanics was that she could have saved them from Mundus had she not been cursed.

"Well, I'm glad you're fine."

He took a sip of the coffee. A fleeting expression on his face showed malcontent, yet soon he was smiling to himself. It was putrid, every taste bud said: 'Sour overload, I repeat sour overload.'

"Not good huh?" Lucia asked with a smile.

Vergil lips puckered, "Oh, yes, very much so. Reminds me of old dirt that can no longer grow anything."

The drink tasted rather horribly, even the cognac he'd drunken earlier held better taste, a much better taste.

"But I don't mind it. It's better than anything I've had in a long time." And he thought on Lady as she washed off the dirt and blood, ran her hands along her body. He too needed a shower now that he thought on it. He left the room and walked slowly upstairs. With luck she was still in there, relaxing, allowing the water to soothe her supple skin, and the man respectfully joined her in the room. He sat on a bench and put the mug down on the sink counter. She looked at him and smirked.

"Is the door locked?" She asked.

"Yes. Not that anyone would barge in." He told her, and she turned towards him.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, "do you need the shower?"

"We all need a shower. I'm- I don't know if I'll ever feel clean again."

His face crinkled like it always did, troubled by the same things he was always troubled by. At the end of the day, he didn't care whether or not the world would move on from this day as he knew it would, he only sought to know if he himself could take that next step. The next movement forward towards tomorrow and a world where he was truly the one destined to protect it in a universe where destiny was already skewed off course. This place he inhabited, where he had gone to stay and come back from, it was an empty void that he could still remember. The pulse of his core felt fresh, renewed, and he looked at her and those contrasting eyes, the beauty held within her composition, and he sought only to know that there her heart would also be with his, together as one.

If she could understand him again, watch his scarred, blackened heart return to the way it used to be, then maybe . . . no, then things would be alright. He only needed her to say the words.

"Well, get in here already." She shrugged.

Thank you for reading.

Well, that's it everyone, the end of Mundus and the end for now, hope you liked this long-awaited happiness :)

Lady is slowly getting her sassy-happy self after such emotional trauma. And Vergil has a girlfriend who will help him recover and stay sane.

I'm just happy I reached this point. ^_^

Further developments will be forthcoming, for now, will primarily focus on ideas for the next story arc and polishing up all previous chapters.

Some were rushed and I want to fix that. Anyway, until next time.