They Said A Storm Was Coming.
The illumination was faint, scarlet, and all too eager to waver.
If her life were ordinary, she would have blamed it on poor filaments, defective wiring connections, inadequate power supply, or some other normal problem liable to arise sooner or later within the workings of lamps and the overall lighting of an area in particular.
Satsuki Kiryuin knew better.
The metal that made up this narrow corridor craved the shadows. Neither the correct functioning of the lamps nor the connections were to blame here.
Her steps echoed as she marched forward, heel clicks that permeated the feebly scarlet-lit hall.
Calm.
Resolute.
Despite the circumstances that compelled her to set foot here, the woman was tranquil.
Despite the knowledge of what she would encounter at the end of the corridor, the woman refused to waver; the lights that surrounded her might have been ready to be consumed by darkness, but she was not.
No, the darkness was not something that could be allowed to take over, the darkness was something to be mastered, meant to be wielded.
The darkness would foster her ambition.
(But if it refused to do so…)
The memory of Vergil's devilish stare on her, surfaced, and decisive words resounded within the recollection:
You and I, we are enemies.
It vexed her, undeniably so.
Even if she kept herself as composed as possible, her face still twisted somewhat when she glimpsed at the sight within her mind, when she listened to the stubborn words of a fool who thought himself above the universe.
Why was the one person she absolutely needed to recruit — by force if necessary — so arrogant, so obstinate, so unwilling to listen to her?
Why was this person the one she would fail to best in combat?
The Yamato had been her aim, at first. Vergil just happened to have it, and although he certainly showcased immense skill with it and innate power that she could harness to her benefit, the sword and the properties it possessed were far more interesting.
Her perception of who and what mattered most was irremediably altered when Vergil decided to walk in, break almost every kill record, overcome her strongest Proto-Rank and Cavaliere-Rank students, and emerge the victor of their vicious, destined combat.
The woman had seen him. The woman had felt him. He was her strongest opponent so far, and he wasn't even a pure-blooded demon.
(What a coincidence…)
The cherry on the top: Vergil possessed a DT.
He'd shown it to everyone after her Elite Four nearly killed him; upon activation, his speed became so monstrous that none of her Elites, not even Uzu Sanageyama managed to see him dash past them, towards her. If the DT hadn't deactivated as quickly as it had…
Inumuta had labeled it an 'awakening' due to how similar the energy readings were to those displayed by other demons who used their DT for the first time, and also, due to how short the duration of the transformation was.
What this meant for his latent potential was rather scary to reflect on.
So powerful, skilled, and terrifyingly promising.
What a shame.
If he had listened and cooperated as she believed he would, there was little doubt in her mind that she would've allowed him to keep his sword forever, always his and only his, as it should be. His combat prowess was more important, and it would've been hers to direct.
A shame indeed, for reality to be so unfortunate at times.
Vergil didn't listen.
Vergil didn't cooperate.
Vergil felt affronted when he discovered that she dove deep into his past life without his knowledge and his permission; he deemed his past sacred, and she happened to desecrate it without any remorse, without any care for how he would feel. Vergil didn't hesitate to call her out on this.
Vergil viewed her as an enemy.
Vergil didn't care that she was willing to cast aside her hate for demonkind and allow him to have a place in her ranks. The matter was worsened when Satsuki attempted to manipulate him using the death of his family and he, too smart to fall for it, became infuriated with her.
Vergil reminded her that he'd killed two of her men without hesitation. Vergil berated her for thinking of offering him a place in her army after he killed two of her soldiers.
The half-demon clearly had a code of honor he followed, and according to this code of honor, she was a terrible leader, an utter disgrace. It was befitting of a warrior who could've been easily called a modern samurai.
(It was also an extreme source of exasperation for her, because how dare he — a demon of all things — be honorable, how dare he call her out for offering him to join her after he killed her soldiers, how dare he?!)
Vergil called her dreams ludicrous, and unattainable.
To place the final nail in the coffin where their unborn alliance resided, Vergil stated that he would never be part of her ambition.
It was unpleasant. It was inconvenient. It was ultimately what happened, however; an unfavorable series of events that made up the reality where Vergil and she stood, marked by his infinite disdain and absolute hostility.
The reality where Vergil lost his sword. The reality where he threatened to spiral out of her control. The reality where the door at the end of the corridor awaited her, and Vergil would not regain the Yamato because she was determined to do all in her power to ensure this.
It was a mistake to let him roam free after his defeat, she should have incarcerated him, as she did with all other demons that could prove useful to her but refused to obey her.
Why didn't she do it?
Out of a sense of respect and admiration towards the power he wielded?
A need to see how far his determination went when it came to the retrieval of his precious sword, perhaps? He had wanted it back, badly. The activation of his Devil Trigger in response to his loss could not mean anything else.
Or was it that, somewhere in her darkened heart, the tiniest shred of empathy toward the half-demon managed to shine through?
(What a foolish notion.)
None of that mattered now.
Vergil's presence in her city had begun to translate into dozens upon dozens of casualties. He managed to overcome the Bakuzan inhibitor in a single day whereas other demons would take a week or sometimes a month to do so, with a significant increase in his already portentous power to make things worse.
He needed to be stopped, at all costs.
His rapidly evolving power couldn't be allowed to grow more than what he already possessed. If that happened, he would absolutely bring down everything she worked for.
He needed to be controlled.
He needed to be subdued.
The easiest method to do that waited beyond those arched doors she moved towards.
Her solemn stare was set on the smoke that adorned the borders of the doors, the erratic movements of the tame vapor that stayed close to the infernal entrance, unwilling to spread through the corridor.
The slowly increasing temperature did little to deter her from doing what she came here to do.
The disembodied whispers that became louder and louder did even less to stop her.
The woman halted in front of the doors.
(At first glance, one would think these were simple, arched twin doors, made of wood and metal. There was a certain resemblance to the doorways presented by medieval castles. There were also differences.)
The wood was white, like the moon. The bright blue, messy lines that ran across it had an unnerving resemblance to veins.
The metal was black as charcoal, and pulsed, like a heart that beat to keep a bizarre creature alive.
The woman could hear fire beyond the doors. The woman could feel the temperature, stronger each second. Her flesh wasn't welcome.
And she couldn't have cared less.
With cold aggression, Bakuzan was drawn from the sheath.
Her rising slash went between the two doors, and she heard the bar on the other side of the doors shatter; without it, all she needed to do was push open the doors, sealed from the inside no more.
Satsuki sheathed Bakuzan.
Satsuki stepped forward and pushed the doors open with both hands.
What her eyes saw was darkness, pure, absolute, and ceaseless.
A void, that's all it was to her human cornea.
Satsuki stepped in. The repulsive scent of smoke and rotten eggs slid into her nostrils as she set foot in the chamber no illumination could hope to inhabit.
As she advanced, the doors closed behind her automatically. The scarlet corridor lights were left behind. All she had now were the shadows that devoured her.
Her pace was unaffected.
The whispers that she'd been hearing since she stopped in front of the doors had transformed into undecipherable roars and unholy growls of creatures beyond the comprehension a human brain possessed. The temperature's gradual increase started to become harsh on her skin.
As she advanced, the roars and growls slowly turned intelligible:
"Flesh! Flesh! FLESH!"
"Feed us! Feed us!"
"Complete us!"
Their demands fell on deaf ears. No feeding was to transpire here. These creatures weren't worthy of a sliver of flesh, not from her, not from anyone.
Satsuki made this clear when a bold, burning hand clasped her shin in the darkness, foolishly fearless and hopelessly hungry.
Bakuzan was drawn in an instant; the sound of metal ripping through cursed, steaming flesh was followed by an animalistic screech that vented pain and announced wrath.
Despite this, the woman resumed her walk.
No demonic hands were set on her for the remainder of it, but she could still hear the growls and the roars and the vicious demands of monsters bound to an eternal darkness, an eternal hunt, and an eternal hunger that would never be sated.
If she hadn't harbored such an intense hatred for them, she would have pitied them.
Her walk continued until the roars and growls ceased suddenly.
Then, and only then, Satsuki stopped.
Bakuzan was sheathed.
At that moment, the monsters in the dark released a simultaneous scream, that echoed and echoed and echoed.
The monsters in the dark wept and bellowed, their voices overtaken by terror. The temperature decreased at a brutal speed as a thousand voices cried for no apparent reason.
Oh, but Satsuki knew the reason.
The reason was just as invisible to her as the worthless devils that lived in this dimension. The reason wasn't worthless, however, and she could feel a shiver run down her spine as a cold current embraced her.
The reason had detected her. The reason was coming to her.
As the minutes passed, the screams grew less audible, more distant. It came to a point where she heard none of them at all, lost to the void, sent away by a force that downright dwarfed them, a being far higher in the food chain.
The scent of smoke vanished.
The air grew colder and colder, drier and drier. It clawed at her nose.
Then, a stern, all-encompassing voice rumbled, somewhere not too close, but not too far either.
"State your business."
There was a familiarity to the tone, though not a welcoming one.
Satsuki kept her voice formal, steely as her katana, no matter how much the cold compelled her to shake and stammer, "I have come to collect the sacred instrument to rule all."
"Oh?" The shock was feigned. "I was under the impression that you required no such things to rule all. What failed you?"
Satsuki heard the flapping of wings.
Satsuki felt the creature land closer.
"Was it your tongue?" It was so much colder, almost frozen, with that thing so close.
"Was it your tools?" Satsuki held Bakuzan tight, muscles tensed by the temperature and the dangerous aura that the monster exuded, circling her.
"Or was it the fragile, fragile, fragile vessel of your soul?" The wounds in her body were hardly protected by the bandages and sutures all over them. The cold reached them and ate at them.
The creature stepped away, to her silent relief.
"I need not remind you how I operate, do I?"
"No." Satsuki was, of course, prepared for this part.
"The Nelo Horn is an extremely valuable creation; whatever you offer me in exchange for it must have an equal or higher value. What will you offer me?"
Satsuki smirked.
"A chance to cross into the Human Realm, once again."
…
…
Her response was followed by dense silence.
Her offer appeared to leave the creature pondering it.
Then…
"…Is that not beyond your authority, Prodigal Daughter?"
"Our superiors will understand once the situation is explained to them. Do not concern yourself with that." Her confidence was clear and unparalleled. "I will let you set foot in the Human World if you give me what I want."
"Ah, a most tempting prospect. I am eager to continue my work on Earth; there is such a profound lack of… resources here." The devil did not care to conceal the longing in those words. "I am curious, still."
Satsuki frowned.
"What could have possibly disturbed you so much that you are willing to consider letting me back into your world in exchange for my Nelo Horn?" the demon questioned with a hint of dark humor in its voice. "It must have shaken you, to your pulsing, fleshy core…"
Satsuki offered no response to that except for rejection, "I'm afraid it does not concern you."
"…I see."
Satsuki heard the quick movement.
The movement of wings that spread to their full extent.
"Very well; I accept your offer!"
As soon as that exclamation reached her ears, Satsuki felt the creature rush towards her, and she repressed the urge to draw out Bakuzan.
A cold, broad hand clasped her shoulder fiercely.
The shoulder that the Yamato had cut through.
Her fingers twitched.
"Here."
An ominous white-colored glow scared some of the darkness away, directed by a bony, clawed, pitch-black hand under it.
And there, enveloped by the demonic light, a curved horn the size of a small pencil levitated above the palm; it was crimson-red, with blue lines running across it.
"Shall I presume you recall how this prototype functions, what it thrives on?" the demon questioned.
"The insinuation that I do not is insulting, to say the least. Who do think you are speaking to?" The grip on her shoulder intensified.
"Such immense confidence!" the demon roared, deceivingly pleased. "Let us test your statements, then; the primary fuel for the Nelo Horn is demonic power."
The woman scoffed.
"Incorrect."
"Oh, is that so?" The creature leaned closer to her, and she could feel its freezing breath on her face. "Enlighten me, then. What is the primary fuel for the Nelo Horn?"
"Our nightmares. Our negative emotions."
"Correct." The demon stepped away, retiring the hand from her shoulder. It tossed the horn high and clapped for a few moments. Then it held its hand forward, and the horn returned to it in the blink of an eye, as if pulled via magnetic force. "Next..."
The horn floated to Satsuki. It circled her, slowly, like a ravenous wolf.
"The horn can take over both sapient beings and non-sapient beings with the same efficiency."
"Incorrect. The Nelo Horn is vastly more efficient against beings capable of rational thought; their emotions are much more varied, complex, and run deeper than what non-sapient creatures can offer, thus offering far more fuel for the horn."
The horn floated back to the splayed palm, and she smirked. "Splendid. Now…"
The color of the light around the horn changed, first turning Lavender.
Then it deepened, showing different shades of violet; Byzantium, Indigo, and finally, the darkest Violet she'd ever seen.
"…what was the meaning of what you witnessed?"
"The physical manifestations of each control level that the horn offers; white means that the horn is inactive, lavender means a slight suppression of demonic energy, byzantium means a moderate suppression, indigo means a moderate suppression of power along with the mind, and violet means complete suppression of the mind."
"What an outstanding showcase of knowledge! Mother dearest must be proud of the child she has raised!"
Her smirk vanished.
Her expression turned unreadable. Satsuki made no indication that she heard or cared for that statement. It was as if the demon said nothing at all.
Even so, the horn pulsed hungrily.
"Now, the final question…"
As these words reached her ears, a pair of yellow eyes shone in the darkness, directed at her. The pupils were rectangular-shaped and pitch-black.
"Are we free to choose the level of control that the Nelo Horn has over an individual?"
Satsuki reflected on her answer carefully.
"It depends," she said. "If the individual we wish to control has too many negative emotions coursing through them, the level of control might default to violet and it will be impossible to lower it."
"And what if the individual does not harbor enough negative emotions?"
"The opposite will happen; the horn will default to either lavender or byzantium, and it will be difficult to increase the level of control unless negative emotions are provoked so much that they become more constant than the positive emotions."
"Ah, such is the fate of a prototype: To Be Defective."
The horn light vanished, and those demonic eyes ceased to shine. Satsuki was engulfed by darkness once again.
A claw was set under her chin.
It pushed her face up, slowly, and then her eyes met those of the demon, alight.
"The Nelo Horn can be unwieldy and risky if the state of mind of the individual we wish to control is not analyzed thoroughly prior to exposition. In the end, the horn is nothing more than a base for something much greater that I have not had the chance to perfect. Do you understand this?"
"Clearly."
The claw was retired.
The small white light reappeared, and so did the horn.
The hand that carried it before did not reappear. The horn simply floated towards her.
Satsuki held her hand out, hand splayed, palm facing up. The horn came to a stop centimeters above it.
The horn light spread to her hand, then to her arm, then to her upper body, and it ceased to spread only when her head was enveloped in it. The beginning of her connection with the horn weighed on her, a sudden pressure on her chest, an ache on her forehead.
It was then that her palm chose to split up with a visceral sound, revealing inner flesh, the blood that flowed out and up, defying gravity. It wasn't something her body was supposed to do.
(It didn't hurt, surprisingly.)
"I shall allow you to borrow the Nelo Horn for twenty-four hours."
Her blood washed over the horn, and slowly, the device descended and descended, and descended into her split palm. It looked as if her blood were tendrils that pulled it down.
"If I am not released from this dimension after those twenty-four hours elapse, I will deactivate the Nelo Horn remotely. The explosives I placed on your shoulder will also detonate, Prodigal Daughter."
Satsuki's stare snapped to her shoulder.
There wasn't anything there, and she couldn't feel anything either.
"Hmph. Do you not trust me to keep my word, Machiavelli?"
"I trust no human; filthy, filthy, filthy creatures."
Satsuki scowled. "If memory serves me well, it was a filthy, filthy, filthy human who saved you from the Dark Prince."
"Your father?" The demon laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Ah, such a brilliant, unparalleled mind; it is quite the shame that he died as he did, like a dog."
Satsuki didn't say anything in response to that.
A vein bulged in the hand that clasped Bakuzan, enraged and demanding.
Satsuki didn't move.
The pulsing, so very pulsing horn came to rest inside her split palm. Her palm, then, closed, and her skin healed. The knowledge that she had what she wanted soothed the rage burning her heart.
"We shall meet again soon. Leave."
Satsuki heard a snap, of fingers.
Then, a pair of metal doors opened not too far from her to the right. The scarlet light from the corridor outside barely managed to cut through the darkness of this world.
"Yes, we shall meet again."
And so, Satsuki marched to the doors, stepped past them, and into the corridor.
It would've been easy for her mind to linger on the doors that shut on their own, on the devil that had the gall to insult her father after what he did for it. Satsuki Kiryuin had priorities, however.
Truth be told, she didn't need to make a deal with Machiavelli if stopping Vergil was all she desired. Her Elite Four could deal with him — even if he somehow became stronger than one of them, all she would need to do was make him fight them all at once; he would stand no chance.
(…right?)
But chances weren't something that Satsuki was willing to take with him. He'd recovered too quickly, and his power increased too much in too little time. His rapid evolution was concerning, to say the least.
The horn provided her with the option to put it on hold, to stop him if his power ended up surpassing her Elite Four.
And she would use it as such if it came to that.
Run.
He needed to run.
He needed to make it.
Cerberus rushed through the sewers, faster, faster, and yet slow; his battle with the Elite took a toll on him, and his power and speed were not what they were supposed to be.
He could see them, the lesser demons that filled Level Four. He wasn't supposed to, he was supposed to move so fast that they would become blurs around him because they were lesser and he was not.
The lesser demons weren't supposed to see him, but more often than not, one would pause what they were doing — be it feeding, socializing, fighting, breeding, avoiding the crimson waters, or simply roaming — to look at him with primitive interest, perhaps wondering if he was prey and if he should be hunted.
But Cerberus would look back, and none of them would chase him. They would always realize that something else was already chasing the hellhound, a dangerous, vast presence that drew ever nearer, and they would tend to scatter upon sensing it.
The presence that was gaining on him.
Cerberus was about to leave Level Four. He could see the crimson water through the steel grate floor, could see it slowly turn brownish as the sewer roads became more and more inclined.
His chaser was probably midway through Level Four already.
He felt too close.
But if Cerberus managed to reach the elevator, open the upper gates, and reach the surface, he would have a chance; if he managed to escape Honno City's fearsome grasp, he would be able to find a place far away, where he could hide and rest until his wounds were all healed. He would then work to become stronger, stronger than ever.
He would feed — on humans and demons. The species didn't matter to him, no prey would be wasted. With the power he amassed, he would improve existing attacks and perhaps create new ones.
Then, he would come back here, use his increased power to force open that blasted Hell Gate his soul had been bound to, and return home.
It would take time, still.
(And he hoped his siblings could forgive him when the time came, for taking so long…)
He knew none of that would happen if he was caught. It was important to escape now because there was nothing Honnoji Academy hated more than loose assets; he was not looking forward to what would happen to him in the laboratories. He was not looking forward to becoming the pet of another hideous, smelly human.
And he certainly was not looking forward to turning into a power battery for the armor of that hideous, smelly human.
Cerberus sprinted harder.
The sewer road became flatter the more he sprinted until it was just that, completely flat. He had entered Level Three, and the elevator was only so many sprints away.
Move. Move. Move.
But as he moved, Cerberus felt an odd pressure.
It started small, like a single droplet of water falling from a stern, dark cloud looming above. He was curious, and so he focused on it.
(A prelude.)
The inquiry, what is it, hadn't even fully formed inside his head when the pressure became heavier and heavier, and heavier, and it wouldn't stop, and the demons of Level Three were running in random directions, seeking places to hide, and it—
The droplet in question evolved into an all-out downpour, a shower of power that Cerberus couldn't understand, at first; it was extremely potent, and he wasn't sure if the Hell Gate aura would've managed to eclipse and conceal it at all, as it did with all creatures whose power was below that of the Elite Four.
A storm.
His sharp nose teamed up to better decipher what the source of this power rain was. Cerberus could discover interesting tidbits of information about other creatures all with a focused inhale, even if what he searched for were thousands of meters away.
He kept his mind on the power flood.
He inhaled.
The moment he did, he instinctively froze.
His eyes burst open.
The scent was foul, and yet it wasn't.
All humans, with no exceptions, shared the same horrid stench at their core, the stench that said they were weak, the smell that bestowed their status as prey upon them. The source of this power smelled weak, the source of this power reeked like prey.
But the source of this power also smelled like a colossal, unconquerable threat. The source of this power felt like an apex predator that commanded respect and that should be avoided at all costs.
The only time Cerberus smelled something similar to this was when he met that half-breed in the Proto-District, and even then, it wasn't as overwhelming as this; if a comparison were to be made, he would say that 'Vergil' was but a little contradiction of senses, a freaky creature that was powerful, yes, but still an aberration that deserved little — if any — respect due to his mixed nature.
This was not.
This was too vast.
This was…
This was approaching!
Cerberus made to move, but then he realized…
The sheer power of the unknown presence was so astonishing that it made him forget about the presence he was supposed to be escaping from.
(Bad, bad, bad mistake.)
It was unfortunate that this realization didn't fully sink in until a massive creature emerged from the dirty water under the floor, pierced through the floor as if it were made of paper, not steel, and landed right behind Cerberus.
The momentary silence that followed was tarnished by the sound of the droplets that dropped to the floor from moment to moment, breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat.
Cerberus didn't dare look back, but the sewer illumination bestowed upon him an impeccable view of the shadow that eclipsed him.
"You know what happens now, don't ya?"
The distorted voice mocked him, and Cerberus had an idea of what would happen.
Even so, he wouldn't submit.
The hellhound whirled around fiercely. He could still fight—
He could—
He—
His thoughts were short-circuited, courtesy of an extremely powerful, extremely fast strike, a sharp swing that connected with his snout and shot him away like a racket would a tennis ball.
(If the user of the racket intended to make the ball burst, that is.)
Cerberus' snout did not burst, of course. He was resilient.
But that didn't mean he wasn't hurt.
The brutal attack provoked his hold on reality to turn brittle. Cerberus had to blink and shake his head a few times to stay awake.
His vision was so, so dark, and his snout felt like it was about to split in half.
That pain, he held onto it, an attempt to make some good off the bad; it hurt badly, but the pain indicated he was alive, and the pain could keep him awake. He needed to hurt. If he didn't, he would fall unconscious, and he wasn't sure if he would wake up again.
"Whoops! I didn't kill you, did I?"
As it turned out, that one voice — always at ease but now distorted, so distorted and much deeper, with a haunting chuckle to it that threatened to evolve into all-out madness — was all Cerberus needed to stay awake.
His hold over reality turned firmer, and he realized his vision was dark because the upper half of his body was inside a hole, no doubt produced by his crash against a sewer wall.
His hind paws twitched.
"Ah, there it is. I'll power down, still; no need for this anymore."
His hind paws tensed as they touched the wall he was inside of, and pushed Cerberus out of it.
Right as his forepaws met the steel floor, an intense shine covered the area. It didn't last much, and it was mostly over when Cerberus glared at the source.
All he saw was Uzu Sanageyama, wearing the Elite Armor he always wore, neither monstrously tall nor corpulent, and his scent undoubtedly human.
Human.
A reprieving sensation sprouted inside his chest, and ate at his fear. When Cerberus recognized it as relief, he growled.
How pitiful.
To feel relieved his opponent wouldn't use his full power, didn't deem him necessary for it.
"Right, Cerberus?" Uzu questioned, voice back to normal pitch, without distortion, only the amusement at his expense remaining. "I won't have to use that form, and I won't need to beat you up more because you'll come with me on your own, right?"
The Elite spread his arms and tilted his head back. "After all, what else can you do?"
Cerberus snarled, but his answer was limited to that, a wordless showcase of frustration at his situation. The hellhound would not admit it, but between the exhaustion of his intense battle with Uzu, the damage he sustained, the destruction of his inner ice chamber which meant no cold tricks for a while, and the devastating knowledge that he wouldn't be able to outrun Uzu now that he was here with him…
His paws started to tremble. He didn't know if it was due to the exhaustion, the anger, the fear, or all of them.
Was there a point in all of this?
Was there a point in his opposition?
What difference would it make?
His ears lowered.
Uzu could defeat and discreet almost all his moves when he was at his peak power, even the ice ones; it would be even easier to beat him when exhausted, and without his ice moves at his disposition.
Was there…
What would…
No.
Cerberus would not let hopelessness claim him.
He could not submit to Honnoji Academy; he knew they could take him, but that didn't mean he had to make it easier for them.
"I…" There was hesitation.
Uzu lowered his arms.
The hesitation was washed away by the same pride that made him refuse to surrender. His ears stood on end, and his mouth parted as he roared, "I will NEVER return to you, human trash! I will NOT return to Honnoji Academy and I certainly won't follow YOU there! YOU WANT ME BACK?! COME HERE AND CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!"
Uzu stared at him, for a few seconds.
Cerberus' breath was rapid.
The tension of imminent confrontation made his heart beat faster and faster.
"…Are you serious?" Uzu questioned, positively baffled.
Cerberus' silence and murderous stare said all that needed to be said regarding that.
Uzu, then, snorted. "Look, I know I told you to be stupid and fight me, but you can stop now, dude; there's no chance in hell for you to win, and yet you still…"
The Elite groaned and unfolded his arms. "Ah, whatever. Guess I'll just beat the shit outta you again."
Uzu took a step forward.
Cerberus' muscles tensed, prepared for battle.
Uzu took another step forward.
He would give his all to fight back. He wouldn't surrender.
Uzu…
Uzu paused his approach.
"Huh?"
The Elite realized something felt off in the area.
His armor chose that moment to sound a rather loud alarm. His view of Cerberus was hindered by the broad panel of information that his helmet visual field displayed.
—COMMUNICATIONS AND SENSORS BACK ONLINE.—
-THREE-STAR LEVEL THREAT NEARBY!
"The hell?"
Uzu's confusion increased dramatically; the comms and sensors made sense, right, but that was because the interference of the Hell Gate wasn't as powerful up in Level Three as it was down in Level Four or worse, the final chamber.
What didn't make sense to him was the fucking THREE-STAR LEVEL THREAT NEARBY segment—
"Sanage..ma!
"Oh, Inumuta!" Uzu let out. Inumuta sounded alarmed, but he didn't care. "Glad you called. I've got Cerberus, so don't ask about him. Just answer me something…"
He clicked a button between his helmet horns, meant to send his view to one of Inumuta's super-ultra advanced computers or something of the sort. "This a glitch?"
"No!" Inumuta exclaimed, and this time Uzu did care.
"That doesn't make sense! We don't have any three-star-level threats in the city!" Uzu responded. Not too far from him, Cerberus felt the odd pressure again, closer and closer and closer. He glanced up, eyes wide.
"We h..e on.. now! It's V—"
There was a thunderous noise and Uzu didn't hear Inumuta.
But he had the feeling he wouldn't need to.
The noise was produced by destroyed concrete and came from above. The Elite's gaze snapped up at the same time the sewers were showered in a fierce, azure light; the information panel size decreased automatically and a digital crimson arrow rose from it.
Above the Elite…
Above Cerberus…
Having pierced through the bottom of Level Two and at about thirty meters over the sewer floor that belonged to Level Three, the three-star threat the Elite Armor warned Uzu of could be seen; it was categorized as such by the arrow pointed at him, and encased in a shell built with raw demonic power.
Uzu couldn't see him for more than a split-second, but a split-second was all that was required for his uber-sharp vision to take in the sinister gleam in his icy blue stare, as intense as the aura shell that covered him.
The split-second elapsed.
He descended, as a meteor would, and not too far from Uzu and Cerberus.
His arrival was violent but controlled; the steel floor from the bridge didn't collapse — merely shook — even though Uzu felt it should have, and the power shell around the three-star threat shattered, sending superheated waves of energy everywhere; these startled the sewer waters enough to make them rise all around the steel path while forcing Uzu to stand his ground lest he be pushed away.
He thought he saw Cerberus being dragged away by the waves, too weak to stand his ground, but he had all but forgotten about the hellhound.
His attention belonged elsewhere now.
The power waves weakened.
The tidal waves slowly receded.
His confusion was immense, but the more he stared at what was in front of him, the more it was pushed to the wayside by an intensifying sense of thrill.
The power waves ceased to exist.
The tidal waves calmed down.
And yet, the air felt utterly disturbed, heavy with a pressure Uzu identified as the one he felt before his armor systems re-activated.
He could feel it in his bones. He could feel it, and it made him let out an exhilarated breath.
The three-star-threat rose from the crouch that he had landed in. The sheer, vicious hatred that resided within his piercing gaze was too much for him.
The Elite just couldn't help himself:
"Well, well, look what the kitty dragged in!" Uzu roared, far too happy in the way he greeted this foe. He stroked his chin a little. "Or should I say puppy… You know, since Cerberus was here just a moment ago?"
He lowered his hand to his hip, and let it rest there.
His stare remained on the silent, fierce, and oh-so-damn soul-stirring menace in front of him as he tilted his head.
"What do you think, Vergil?"
It was a subtle, almost unperceivable movement; if he had missed it, he wouldn't have been able to react in time to what came after.
But the Elite managed to see Vergil's toes curl a bit before the half-demon teleported in front of him, about to perform a vicious cross.
Uzu's entire body tensed instinctively. He brought his left hand up to his temple and rotated his shoulders to the right, bracing himself for the absolutely murderous strike Vergil would deliver.
The power behind the attack was such that when Uzu defended himself from it, his arm — even if it was protected by the armor — went numb, and he was pushed back.
Vergil dashed after the Elite and teleported all around him until countless afterimages surrounded Uzu.
He didn't comprehend how fast Vergil was moving until all the afterimages lunged at him simultaneously and he failed to see which was the real Vergil; there wasn't time!
Darn it!
His helmet horns sparked.
Uzu released an explosion of viridian demonic power that devoured all the afterimages except one that pulled back with a kick to the air. The real one!
The Elite clapped his hands once to clear the smoke and flames, right in time to see Vergil rushing towards him from above, and head-on. Gotcha! Uzu drew his twin shinai swords out and swung them horizontally.
The swords connected.
And Vergil faded away, like…
…like an afterimage would.
"Uh?!"
The weight of the mistake committed by the Elite was not felt completely until the latter heard a tranquil, yet firm voice close, too close for comfort: "Over here."
Uzu's stare snapped down, and he tried to defend himself.
The brutal uppercut performed by Vergil went right under his rushed block and connected with his chin; Uzu's entire world was inevitably shaken.
His head snapped backward. His line of sight was broken. He was conscious. He wasn't very conscious though. His legs felt wobbly. Was the world always this whirly or what? Vergil was whirling too, whirlinnn…
Vergil whirled gracefully and delivered a fierce elbow strike to Uzu's right cheek, knocking the Elite's head to the side. Ever the relentless warrior, the half-demon followed the elbow strike with a high roundhouse kick to the head, shaking Uzu's brain more.
The combo ended with a furious backhand punch, straight to the center of the helmet mask. The immense force knocked Uzu back, sending him bouncing and rolling across the floor until his body hit a set of particularly large and corroded pipes that burst as soon as he crashed into them.
Uzu lay there for a while, completely still as the water from the broken pipes flowed onto him.
Vergil calmly marched through the steel path, towards him.
The seconds passed, and Uzu remained where he was.
The seconds passed, and Vergil was in front of him, fists ready, expression rigid, and eyes stern.
"Unless your feeble heart ceases to beat, I will not grant you permission to lie down, scum," the half-demon stated, cold and merciless. He leaned down and let his hand close around Uzu's horn fearlessly.
Then, he held Uzu up, from the horn. "So, stand up."
A chuckle reached Vergil's ears.
"No hellos… No witty banter… No explanations… Just straight down to business, ain't that right, Vergil?" Uzu said, not sounding threatened at all. "You've got a mean uppercut, you know. Has anyone ever told you you've got a mean uppercut? 'Cause you do."
"I want not your praise. I want you to stand up so I can rip you to pieces."
Uzu held his hands up as if to calm Vergil down. "I know! I know! The battle, the kill, that's all we live for, don't we?"
Vergil saw a thin green ember form around Uzu's right horn.
He let go and teleported away.
The horn released a small, concentrated blast; hot wind waves coursed past Vergil, and a dust cloud enveloped Uzu. All Vergil could see of the Elite was a silhouette, adorned with twin viridian lights of doom, eyes that looked straight at him.
The sight brought memories to his mind.
He'd seen such a silhouette before, those same eyes when he first encountered the Elite Four. This situation was different, however; the other three silhouettes and the other three sets of eyes were absent now.
A swipe of the Elite's arm later, and the dust cloud was cleared.
"And you seem to be more than ready for it!" Uzu let out. "I detect no traces of the inhibitor Lady Satsuki put inside you; the lesser demons we've tested it on either died or never fully recovered from it, and the greater ones took a while to do so."
To that, Vergil scoffed.
"To compare me with the trash you let loose on the streets and use as power sources for your pitiful weapons is foolishness; it doesn't matter if they are 'lesser' or 'greater' because I reside on a much higher level than all of them."
"No kidding!"
Vergil raised his foot in a precise counter to Uzu's downward shinai slam, aimed at his head. Uzu used the deflection to spin around and strike with his other shinai, horizontally. The half-demon hopped over the shinai and delivered a knee attack that Uzu barely managed to defend from, but was still pushed back by.
The Elite wasn't deterred; Vergil's rapid, effective response actually thrilled him further and compelled him to be more ruthless in his onslaught. He leaped at the half-demon, and proceeded to continuously strike with as much speed and power as he could muster.
His two shinai swords were either avoided or parried by Vergil, who was bare-handed. What cemented Vergil's superior speed was the moment when he — perhaps a bit resentful, perhaps a bit petty — caught Uzu's two swords in his hands, and with a poison-stained tongue said:
"Your speed's hellish…"
Uzu saw what he would do, but he couldn't react in time.
Vergil pulled him in, and connected an impeccable headbutt to his forehead.
The Elite's vision went black for the short-lived span of a heartbeat, then returned but blurred while he staggered back. His back hit a wall. His skull felt like it was snapped in.
He shook the confusion off himself with a fierce shake of his head.
He shook the confusion off himself right in time to hear Vergil talk, very close, utterly vindictive, "If memory doesn't fail me, that was what you told me, right before your compatriots and you attacked me all at once and stole what's rightfully mine."
Uzu realized that the 'wall' his back hit happened to be the half-demon he could no longer see in front; those words nourished with the purest kind of hatred had come from behind.
"Does my speed remain hellish, Uzu Sanageyama?"
Uzu chuckled a bit, both at the clear resentment and the taunt that tainted the question.
"I think so! No… I think you're even faster now… More powerful, too," the Elite reflected. The three-star-level threat warning hadn't shown up when he met Vergil, not even when he turned into that . The half-demon somehow — in less than a day — turned into a three-star-level threat, and Uzu was so very curious about it. "But I'm not really sure, you know. Gamagori was too eager to keep you for himself and cut our battle short. We didn't have many chances to get up close and personal, you and I…"
Uzu performed a reverse kick.
There was no one behind him.
"Is that so?"
The Elite whirled around as soon as he heard that low, growled response.
Vergil, then, advanced.
The Elite couldn't react.
At all.
Vergil moved so quickly that, to the eyes of normal human, or the eyes of a normal demon, it would've appeared as if he phased through Uzu and came to a stop halfway from him, behind the Elite.
And for a little moment of silence, Uzu stood still, frozen.
The Elite, then, shouted with the full force of his lungs, "HOLY SHI—"
His curse was interrupted, and he was drowned in an avalanche of unseen but felt strikes that shook him with the force of a hundred earthquakes, all of them precise, all of them absolutely murderous, and all of them sparking blue.
The avalanche ended as suddenly as it had begun.
Vergil looked at the Elite, over his shoulder.
Uzu was standing there, trembling, breathing heavily. His legs wavered as if demanding he dropped to his knees for a moment. His armor showed some cracks here and there, with small pieces falling to the floor like rubble.
And Vergil waited.
He waited as the Elite slowly turned around.
Once the Elite was facing him, Vergil assessed the results of his onslaught properly:
The gauntlets were nearly split. The bamboo swords coming out of them were incomplete, broken, and their torn pieces were nowhere to be seen. The half-demon assumed they just disintegrated under the hot pressure of his overflowing energy.
The armor chest area was smashed in, unable to absorb the full impact of one punch he delivered with particular aggression. The shoulder pads were so devastated that Vergil wasn't surprised they crumbled as Uzu finished turning around.
The kneepads were not as damaged, but they were not in favorable conditions either. The lines of rupture that marked them extended to the legs.
The area that withstood Vergil's strikes better was, without a doubt, the helmet; the hideous streaks of shattering that marred his armor were not present there…
…except for the spot that was supposed to cover his right eye: one of his two light projectors.
The light projector that was supposed to shine green had been crushed, a wide web of ruptures slowly spreading, and spreading, and spreading...
…until it broke down.
The thin shards of reinforced glass fell to the floor, sometimes falling right into the little square-shaped openings there, sometimes bouncing off the bars that made up the floor only to fall into the openings all the same.
Vergil faced the Elite fully, his stern blue gazing into Uzu's gray.
Uzu stared back.
Vergil expected to at least see fear there, expected to see the daunting realization of just what the Elite was up against, the terror of knowing you were surpassed and that there was no escape from an enemy that would slaughter you.
(He'd completely dominated Uzu just now, had delivered potent strikes to drive home the fact that the Elite was outmatched, had blinded him with his accelerated and unparalleled pace to let him know he was also outsped, and yet…)
He saw none of that.
When Uzu spoke, he realized why:
"IN-CRE-DI-BLE."
Cerberus blinked, conscious once again.
He was floating, belly facing up. He was soaked. He smelled urine and excrement everywhere, both from the humans who lived in Honno City and the demons that dwelled in the sewers. He understood where he was almost immediately.
He also smelled blood, his own blood flowing from his wounds and spreading through the sewage he floated in, carried by the tranquil but continuous waves. The water was so warm, the sound of it so soothing…
The pup felt a bit too comfortable, compelled to close his eyes again.
Then he heard all the noise above, remembered what had happened, how he had ended up here, and frantically swam to the nearest wall. He pierced the bricks with his claws and climbed it with feline grace.
The steel bridge was still up there. The path to the elevator was still there.
He leaped to a pipe, then to another when it failed to support his weight, and then to a rectangular light bulb, crushing it when he leaped from it and to the bridge.
Cerberus landed on the bridge and watched an unexpected event transpiring many meters away:
Uzu Sanageyama was engaging Vergil — the half-breed he had encountered in the Proto-District not long ago — in combat.
The sight of Vergil made his senses flare in alarm, evoking the same overwhelming presence he felt moments before Uzu caught up to him.
What happened to his demonic power? It is…
Vergil's energy was overwhelming, but it was also different , denser. His scent was much more intense, carrying an aggression that was also visible in his every move; he moved with the same skill and grace that Cerberus remembered, but the way the air shook with each of his attacks, the momentary flashes of burning blue that marked his strikes…
There was a dark savagery to them.
Cerberus leaped higher; he needed a higher ground to watch from lest he wished to stay in the way of those two. He was curious.
Every move shocked his senses and stoked the fires of thrill within his heart. He would extend this as much as possible, would get as much enjoyment as he could from this.
Vergil was here. Vergil was stronger.
Uzu was here. Uzu was elated.
"Yes, that's the spirit!" he roared, right as he brought his arms close to his chest and intercepted Vergil's lethal dragon kick. The Elite was pushed back, and he loved the feeling of backward skidding.
He crouched, contesting the pushback by putting his hand on the floor.
Vergil materialized in front of him.
An axe kick almost crushed his head, but Uzu leaped back in time, then lunged at Vergil with his elbow at the lead; it collided with Vergil's perfectly-timed rising knee.
"Keep it up!" Uzu dashed with a heel kick. Vergil rolled under it and responded with a sweep of his foot, knocking Uzu off his feet.
The Elite whirled mid-air. "Good!"
His gauntlet would've slammed into Vergil's face, hadn't the latter teleported.
Uzu landed on his palm, and upside down as he was, aimed his free arm at the sewer ceiling.
Vergil warped there, in a turbulent, knee-first descent towards Uzu.
A shinai burst out of Uzu's gauntlet, replacing the broken one, and was then launched like a spear at Vergil's head. There was no time to be shocked. There was only time for instinct.
On instinct, Vergil moved his right foot down, knocking the bamboo sword away.
He didn't realize his mistake until he saw Uzu coming at him, curled up into a shockingly quick somersault.
Vergil was fast. He tried to teleport.
Uzu was somehow faster. He uncurled right in front of him, grabbed him by the mouth, and tossed him to the floor hard enough to make him bounce off it, falling face-first. He heard Uzu speak from above, "You might wanna dodge this one!"
Vergil heard a brief, charging sound.
He teleported atop a pipe that ran from wall to wall before the viridian laser that pierced through the bridge — melting the bars in seconds — and startled the sewage waves below could reach him.
Horns steaming from the discharge, Uzu landed back on the bridge, heavy boots leaving a dent in the steel. "I don't know…"
He shook his arms once and newly fabricated bamboo swords burst from his gauntlets.
Vergil's scowl intensified.
Uzu's stare snapped up to the half-demon, a crazed battle-thirst gleaming within his one exposed eye, and making his remaining light projector shine brighter. "I don't know how you became this strong in so little time, but I don't care!"
Vergil flinched as he felt the pressure in the air increase, along with Uzu's power. His own power reacted to it, turning nearly cataclysmic inside him, threatening to make him burst. His muscles had tensed so much that veins bulged uncontrolled all over them.
The stimulation was almost too much.
"You wanna hear what I care about?! THIS! YOU! ME! RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!" Uzu shouted and leaped towards Vergil with hardly concealed madness.
"VERY WELL!" Vergil snarled in response and leaped towards Uzu, murderous intentions momentarily staining his icy-blue eyes a shadowy green.
The following exchange was earth-shaking, irremediably destructive, and charged with battle-thirst on Uzu's part, lust for vengeance on Vergil's, pure chaos;
Vergil's somersault downward kick clashed with Uzu's rising one. The warriors bounced off each other, but Uzu performed a slash to the air as he dropped to the floor; the sheer pressure it put on the wind struck Vergil hard, sending him crashing to the ceiling.
Vergil immediately jumped off the ceiling, using a kick to the air to avoid the shinai fired at him by Uzu. He landed on the bridge moments before Uzu did, covered his body in a bright blue shield right, and darted to the mid-air figure of his foe at blinding, lethal speed, spinning like a drill.
Uzu barely managed to lessen the impact by putting his feet in front of himself and leaping off Vergil's shield; his knee made a pop, it hurt like hell, and he crashed through the upper walls ungracefully — crushing the lights there and letting the darkness spread further through the tunnel, while also crashing through countless water pipes — but he would bet that it was a thousand miles better than having his ribs pulverized by Vergil's vicious tackle.
(The adrenaline surge he was experiencing intoxicated him.)
As Uzu was helplessly carried by the strike-induced momentum, Vergil cracked his neck and proceeded to run through the wall, giving chase leaping past pipes and metal, letting the water from the adjacent tunnels and the broken pipes wash over him as he rose towards his target. "I'll hunt you down!"
Much like Uzu, there was a surge of something within Vergil. Was it adrenaline? He wasn't certain, he wasn't certain if it even affected him the same way it did humans. What Vergil felt was akin to hunger, a strange craving, not for nourishment but for destruction.
(Vengeance; he decided that the venomous fires of vengeance had to be the ones shocking his thoughts and senses, controlling his actions as he surrendered to them.)
(He found he did not mind, in the slightest.)
Cerberus moved down a particularly isolated pipe of water, watching from the shadows as the battle below unfolded. His curiosity was sinister and all-consuming — how couldn't it be? Vergil had damaged Uzu greatly in a matter of instants, and he was currently holding his own against the Elite, maybe even dominating the battle a bit.
He hadn't really thought about the half-breed following their combat in the Proto-District. The hellhound wondered how his battle with the higher-ups at the academy went; had he faced one of the Elites? What about their contemptible leader? Cerberus managed to catch a few words spoken between the two, and these certainly suggested a prior confrontation.
Had Vergil lost? If so, Cerberus wasn't surprised, the Elite Four were the strongest in Honnoji Academy, and the human woman in charge of them was no slouch either, the mere memory of her commanding presence still brought shudders to him.
(The appearance of Vergil had changed, too; he hadn't had the chance to see Vergil completely uncovered by a brown cloak, but he did remember key details, such as the fact that his gloves were tan, fingerless, that his pants were a precious dark green, and that his boots were tall. The cloak was gone, his hands and feet were bare now, and his pants were a navy blue.)
(His katana was nowhere to be seen.)
The end of the tunnel tempted Cerberus to escape, to use the distraction Vergil provided Uzu with to flee at once. The Elite's reputation around here was that of a thrill-seeking fool who yearned for tough battles and the adrenaline they bestowed upon his system. Once he found one, well, it was hard to tear his focus away from it.
However, as his fear slowly subsided and his thoughts ceased to be influenced by it, Cerberus realized that his prior goal of escape would probably end up in disaster.
The upper levels of the sewers were infested by cameras and sensors, surveillance devices that the technicians of Honnoji Academy took advantage of due to the stronger signal up there; the sheer power of the Hell Gate had a limited grasp, and it weakened and weakened the higher one went. It could not reach the upper levels and mess with the signal.
If Cerberus managed to exact his plan — which entailed reaching the elevator, skipping Level Two altogether, reaching Level One, and sneaking to the surface undetected, he would have to deal with advanced surveillance.
He could avoid the cameras easily, but the sensors were another thing entirely. Their surveillance was not vision-based. Their range was vast. He wouldn't be able to destroy them without getting detected first, and once that happened…
(Never mind the fact that the elevator likely had its own set of sensors and mechanisms to deal with potential intruders; how could he overlook such an important possibility? The preparation of Honnoji Academy was not to be underestimated. He'd been such a fool.)
As soon as the higher-ups noticed him running through Level One, they would undoubtedly send another member of the Elite Four after him, as they had sent Uzu. The altercation would be inevitable, and although he wouldn't submit without a fight, Cerberus knew that he would lose.
He would lose. It'd become clear after his battle with Uzu.
He would lose. He would be captured. He would return to Honnoji Academy. He would be subjected to the whims of another fool who the council thought fit for wearing a Cavaliere Armor, never to be free again… And that was the best-case scenario.
The worst-case scenario involved the council executing him for insubordination, murder of a Cavaliere-Rank student, murder of several modified assets belonging to the bottom of the sewers, attempt to open the Hell Gate, and resistance to capture conducted by an Elite student.
Cerberus wanted neither of these scenarios to come to fruition.
So he watched, intently, no longer eager to escape, for it would lead to his downfall. He watched Vergil fight against Uzu, following their every move while he planned his next carefully.
An idea was already forming within the frozen confines of his mind.
He considered it while his eyes chased the half-breed below.
"Hunt me down, eh…!"
As Vergil pursued Uzu, the latter found his footing on the wall, proceeding to perform a damn moonwalk that was somehow fast enough to keep Vergil off himself for at least a few more seconds. "Optimistic, aren't we?!"
"Factual, I would say!"
Vergil lunged at him.
Uzu halted his pace and also halted Vergil's fist, aimed at his mask and caught by his left gauntlet. Vergil tried to deliver a backup knee strike, but the Elite flowed into a much faster move; a brutal heel kick that hit his stomach.
The impact pushed Vergil away and off the wall, but failed to stun him. He whirled backward, and between his two hands caught a power line that hung lazily from the ceiling. He used it to complete his spin with acrobatic skills and leaped back to Uzu, breaking the power line in the process.
The escaping sparks raced to his arms, merging with his rampant blue power and making his aura take a sharper, electrified shape as chirping but not of birds filled his ears. Uzu produced a new sword from his right hand, coating his two bamboo swords in demonic power too. "Are you gonna hunt me down, huh?!"
The memories flashed through his mind in a second that felt like an agonizing eternity; the moment he was struck in the chin and momentarily knocked out cold, the moment Uzu caught his sword, the way the Elite Four toyed with him, ganged up on him, shattered him, annihilated him…
"Are you gonna kill me?!" Uzu leaped to him, mad and hungry for more violence.
The culmination of his laughably pathetic humiliation was the moment when he, body destroyed and mind lingering dangerously between consciousness and oblivion, saw Uzu — No, felt Uzu take hold of his right arm, and then rip it off, while his bloodied hand still held desperately onto the Yamato.
While his bloodied hand still held onto the Yamato.
It was him…
"WELL?!"
It was him! IT WAS HIM!
Vergil gritted his teeth until his gums bled. His throat produced an animalistic, disturbing snarl.
HE WAS THE ONE WHO TOOK IT AWAY!
Uzu thrust his shinai forward, sending ripples through the sewer air.
And Vergil vanished from his sight.
Uzu had no time to process this, though.
All his mind managed to process was the sharp, splitting pain that exploded inside his head the moment Vergil — having teleported right beside him — slammed his elbow against it.
Uzu was sent falling to the bridge with such speed and force that he pierced it, falling into the water with a noisy and broad splash.
A white-colored, green-striped horn spun like a fan through the air. It hit a wall, its point piercing through the bricks.
Vergil landed back on the bridge. He rose to his full height and waited.
Uzu breached the water, getting back to the bridge in the blink of an eye as if nothing had happened.
The helmet was hopelessly ruptured, and it was missing a horn, though.
A cruel smirk crossed Vergil's face.
"Regarding your question…" the half-demon started. Uzu looked up from his crouch.
His aura — still merged with the electricity — erupted, sending ferocious azure lightning everywhere; it slashed at the walls, and the ceiling, sending huge chunks of debris to the bridge and the sewage. It obliterated all the water pipes, causing more and more water to flow uncontrollably into the tunnel, cascades, and cascades that washed over the channel below the fighters. It scared every light bulb in the tunnel to death, making them burst.
The only light in the tunnel was coming from Vergil, an indomitable, destructive light that was buried by inhibitors and sicknesses no more, resurrected by a nightmarish hatred and the blood of those who were too weak to defend themselves.
"YES!" Vergil exclaimed, and his finger was then pointed at himself. "I've recovered from our battle atop this island, overcame the weakness that fell upon me afterward, and grown stronger with a sole purpose in my mind!"
Vergil pointed his finger at Uzu, sentencing him even before his voice did.
"For the transgressions committed against my dignity as a warrior, my most precious possession which is also my birthright, and my absolute power, I, Vergil, son of Sparda, vow to send you and your entire academy STRAIGHT TO HELL!"
Vergil's voice reverberated, distorted at the end, and it shook Uzu's nerves.
The half-demon's hand closed into a murderous fist, and bloodthirsty intentions colored his icy-blue eyes a deep green, crushing his irises into thin slits.
The half-demon, then, brought his hand to his face, passing it across his hair, sweeping it backward with slow, majestuous elegance, every snow-white spike rising to the thrilling occasion.
When he was done, he finished his declaration with tranquility... A disturbing certainty. As if the meaning behind his words were inescapable:
"The carnage starts with you, Sanageyama."
A/N:
…Hello? Is anybody there? Did the chapter upload, or is FFN crashing again? Are the alerts working?
Oh, there you are!
Hey.
Been a while. It's about time I showed signs of life.
If I made you all — people who followed, favorited, and reviewed — wait a little too much, I offer you an apology. I've been facing some difficulties; broke my dominant wrist.
Chapter 9 and 10's completion was, of course, affected by this; it's kinda hard to type with one hand you know, especially when you're right-handed and your only available hand happens to be the left one.
The entirety of Chapter 9 and some of Chapter 10 were written with one hand and the overall polishing of Chapter 9 was also done with that hand. It was an interesting process, to say the least.
…Well, that's pretty much it!
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter for what it was; a prelude. This update was due.
Feel free to leave a review if you liked it, tell me what you liked about it, what you think will happen next, and all that stuff. The same applies if you don't like it, I don't mind criticism at all.
If you are a new reader and you've made it this far, it means you're probably liking it; should that be the case, I invite you to follow, favorite, and review this story. It's appreciated.
As always, I will respond to the user reviews.
—
-Lightblade1121: Yes, the last chapter revolved around Uzu and Cerberus. I might have overdone it though. I hope I managed to compensate for that with Vergil's dinnertime.
I'm glad you think Vergil's characterization is acceptable so far. There is a lot I try to consider when I write him, but sometimes it's also just the feeling of "Vergil would absolutely do this" or "Nah, he wouldn't do that" for me.
Uh, about the weapon… How about— Ah, spoilers. Better shut up. I bet you already know what it will be though.
-Null: That's what I wanted! An awesome entrance and first impression of her for those who haven't watched Kill la Kill. We'll see if she has what it takes to thrive when she arrives at Honnoji Academy.
No Dante for a while though, he'll come later, and I might have to make some adjustments to his inclusion in the story — the new Netflix anime looks like a prequel to me.
Hell Gates are meant to be hellish! Of course, something colossal will happen with it in later chapters, but I'm not telling what.
Nope, no Major Character Death in this chapter I'm afraid, but watch out.
I'll be honest with you… The scene I dedicated to her previously was the intro to one of my early concepts of Heart's Burial, I merely polished it and discarded some stuff. She was gonna be the protagonist and the story would start a few months before the Temen-ni-gru incident rather than two years before it. The story would be so intensely focused on the Devil May Cry side of it that little to no elements would be drawn from Kill la Kill — including characters, except for a few such as Satsuki and the mother of the century that is.
No Honnoji Academy. No Angelo Armors inspired by the Goku Uniforms. No Aikuro. No Mako. No Elites…
A lot of Devil May Cry characters would show up far earlier — Dante, Lady, Morrison, Enzo, Arkham… — and Vergil would of course have full access to abilities such as Summoned Swords and Devil Trigger when he showed up.
The plot was gonna be really different from the final version, and so was gonna be the dynamic between Vergil and Ryuko.
I wrote over thirty chapters for that concept — actually loved it for what it was and still have it with me — before I decided to discard it for another concept where Dante was the lead, and then I discarded that one in favor of one where Vergil was the protagonist; that's the concept that evolved into what Heart's Burial is today.
If you wonder why I discarded the Ryuko-centric concept, it's because I already have another fanfic where she is the protagonist in the works. I also discarded the Dante-centric concept since, well, he's the star of DMC and already has a main role in the franchise.
C'mon, Vergil deserved it. He doesn't even have his own game yet…
That doesn't mean I won't incorporate elements from those discarded concepts. A few plot points and arcs from them are meant to be in the final version.
So, yep. That's the origin of that scene from Chapter 8!
But, who knows, maybe I'll post a "Heart's Burial: Special Edition" when I finish this story…
I'm aware the battle between Uzu and Cerberus might have gone on for far too long. I'll try not to make that mistake in the future. What do you think about this chapter's warm-up brawl?
Vergil's character development is gonna hit many roadblocks, that's for sure. It's not easy to change. As for what will push him to… We'll see.
You people will never see the Nero drafts, never! I'll take those abominations to the grave if I can. I just keep them with me as reminders of how much worse my writing used to be; riddled with orthographic and grammatical errors, OOC portrayals up to eleven, shameless canon rehash, and more stuff that I'd rather not mention.
-not a guest: Oh, Vergil just might take something from Uzu…
And who knows if the students will start to fear Vergil enough to conspire against their leader; we are yet to see how this demonic Honnoji Academy works when the weekend is over.
It'd certainly be an interesting scenario, regardless!
-Gridman Telos:
Who knows what'll happen! This chapter is just a warm-up for that.
The 'No-Stars' reside in the slums. Their rank name will be different in this story though.
The place where Vergil ate humans — and where his subsequent power release obliterated many buildings, killing the people inside them — was the Proto-District. That's where the students with the Proto-Rank happen to reside.
-spookyfool: Ryuko showed up, but not on Honnoji Academy yet!
Satsuki might have underestimated Vergil's potential for growth, but as this chapter showed, she has safety measures that she can fall back on. The question is, what'll happen when she runs out of them?
Hey! I know about the Netflix anime! I've seen the teaser. I think it'll be a prequel to DMC 3; depending on if it is a prequel, and on how it handles the past of both Dante and Vergil (He BETTER appear in some way) I might have to make adjustments to Heart's Burial.
So I'm glad for the anime, but I'm also worried about having to make adjustments. Can't wait!
-random reader: But of course! There'll always be more awesomeness for y'all to read, no worries!
Thanks for the reviews!
The next update might not come until early December, since I'll have to catch up on the college assignments I've missed and also complete those that'll keep coming until the end of the semester, so my hands will be full. I will also spend some time editing Chapter 10, "Inferno"; it was supposed to be part of 9 but I'm not too keen on posting 25k-words chapters yet.
See you in the next chapter!