A few weeks passed, and with each sparring session, Andorra gradually got to know the rest of the crew, piece by piece. The workouts had become a regular occurrence, giving her the chance to hone her skills against something other than demons. To her own admission, she hadn't had a decent sparring partner in quite some time. So used to fighting for survival, she found it challenging to shift her mindset from instinctual violence to the practiced rhythm of technique.
While she was learning to adapt, Morrison and Vergil were both—unbeknownst to each other—immersed in their own research, scouring every dusty tome and online archive they could find about angels. They hoped to uncover more about her heritage, but so far, they had turned up little outside of biblical texts that barely scratched the surface of celestial beings. Each new discovery only left them with more questions than answers.
One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, Andorra sank onto a nearby bench, her muscles trembling with exhaustion. Nico sauntered over, her usual energy radiating like sunlight. "So, ya never answered me," she began, a teasing glint in her eyes. "What's the deal with your angel powers? Do you have a trigger form like the guys have their devil triggers?"
"Oh… my bad," Andorra replied, wiping sweat from her brow. "I haven't noticed anything that changes my appearance or affects my abilities, at least not like theirs." Her voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping in. After all, she had spent so much time alone that there hadn't been anyone around to point out any changes.
"That's interesting," Nico mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if that means angels are inherently stronger?"
Andorra let out an amused snort. "I wish," she said, chuckling as her mind drifted back to the brief altercation with Vergil the night she brought the brothers back. He'd sent her flying like a ragdoll across the room. "I might… might have a chance against Nero, but as for the others? I'm fucked for now." The laughter faded, leaving a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface.
"Oh, c'mon, don't sell yourself short!" Nico urged, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "You're a celestial badass! The only one like you in the whole wide world. Own that shit! So you're a bit rusty with sparring and keeping up with the other hunters… ain't no big deal. Soon, you'll be running circles around everybody!"
Andorra chuckled softly, grateful for the encouragement. "You know, it's hard to not think on the bright side when you say it like that." A smile tugged at her lips, but her demeanor shifted slightly, shadows of self-doubt creeping back in. She needed to be stronger. She had to prove herself. The internal mantra echoed in her mind like a battle cry:
She was not weak.
She was not naive.
With each repetition, she felt the fire within her reigniting. Andorra straightened her posture, determination replacing the fleeting doubt that had momentarily clouded her resolve. "I will get to where I want to be," she declared, her voice steadier now, infused with newfound conviction. She'd show him what she was capable of...
Nico's expression softened, her playful demeanor giving way to understanding. "That's the spirit! Just remember, you've got a whole team behind you, cheering you on. You're not in this alone."
Andorra nodded, a flicker of a smile appearing for just a moment.
"I know…" she said, rising to her feet and rolling her shoulders before stretching her arms overhead. As she did, her tank top rode up slightly, exposing a glimpse of her belly.
"Damn girl… you 'bout a six-pack under there…" Nico mused, her eyes widening in playful admiration.
"All I do is exercise, and it's hardly ever in a fun way…" Andorra replied, lowering her arms with a playful pout. Her mind wandered—when was the last time she had gotten laid? Maybe she should rectify that soon. Feeling better about herself lately, she pondered whether she could handle it… maybe.
"Hey, while you're taking a break, do you mind if I take a gander at those daggers of yours?" Nico asked, curiosity piqued. "Aside from the Yamato, they're the only blades I haven't had a chance to study."
"Good luck on the first part…" Andorra mumbled, a smirk playing at her lips as she detached her daggers from their holsters. She handed them over with a hint of caution. "Just be careful. They're the only ones I've got."
"You got it!" Nico exclaimed, excitement palpable as she accepted the blades. "Ooh, a feather motif! I like it!"
The blades indeed resembled feathers, elegantly shaped and crafted with care. Each blade was about five to six inches long, made from a material that Nico didn't immediately recognize. The handles were wrapped meticulously in black paracord and leather dyed a deep gray, adding an air of rugged sophistication.
"I had them modeled after my wings," Andorra stated, as if that part weren't obvious.
"I see… What's this metal? I don't think I've come across it before," Nico inquired, examining the blades with keen interest.
"It's actually part of my wings," Andorra explained, a hint of nostalgia creeping into her voice. "I was still getting used to their shield form when a demon managed to break a bit off the right wing tip. Ooh, did that hurt… and it took a week for them to grow back fully. But since I had the metal, I figured, why not use it? If demonic blades can hurt me, perhaps angelic blades could hurt demons."
"And? Did they?" Nico asked, curiosity evident.
"They helped, but it didn't have near the effect I wanted," Andorra replied with a shrug, disappointment flickering in her eyes.
"Hmm… ever thought of infusing your blood into them? Wings may not have enough angelic essence to be as effective as you want, but if you quench these babies in your blood… it may just add that extra kick you've been looking for," Nico suggested, her voice brimming with excitement.
"Hmm… I hadn't thought of that," Andorra mused, considering the idea. "But that would require a lot of blood…"
"Not really, just a couple cups worth," Nico said matter-of-factly. "I can shallowly quench them. The trick is keeping your blood flowing freely to collect enough since you heal so quickly."
"That's easy," Andorra replied, her eyes lighting up with intrigue. "All I need is a syringe with the plunger missing. I read in a book once that someone was able to bleed a victim out that way. Wasn't as messy as cutting a major artery."
"Ooh, now that sounds like an idea!" Nico agreed enthusiastically. "When do you want to start? And thanks for indulging my curiosity; I know I can get a bit too much for folks sometimes."
"Nah, you're good," Andorra said, a genuine laugh escaping her lips. "I used to be the same way."
"Really? What happened?" Nico asked, her tone shifting to one of concern, her playful demeanor momentarily set aside.
"Life… life happened," Andorra replied, her gaze drifting as memories washed over her. The laughter faded, replaced by a distant look in her eyes. "I had to focus on adapting and surviving on my own."
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them, the weight of her words lingering in the air. Andorra's gaze turned distant, filled with old shadows that threatened to pull her back into the past. But as she returned to the present, her expression softened, determination reclaiming the space where sadness had lingered. "But maybe I can learn to be that energetic person again and break free from this fight-or-flight mode permanently."
"Yeah, maybe," Nico agreed, her tone shifting as she prepared to broach a sensitive topic. "Speaking of life…" She hesitated, her expression indicating that Andorra might not like this next line of questioning. "What was it like working with Vergil all those years ago?" Her curiosity was evident. "There's obviously a history between you two that ended badly…"
Andorra frowned, though she didn't seem upset. She had anticipated this question; after all, someone was bound to ask sooner or later. Since Vergil likely refused to answer anyone, it fell to her to fill in the blanks.
"It was… interesting," Andorra replied, her voice flat to mask the tumult of emotions simmering beneath the surface. "He wasn't much different than he is now."
"Yeah… he does kinda nail that whole cool, calm, and collected stoic thing," Nico agreed, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Yeah, to the point of seeming cold and heartless," Andorra scoffed, frustration creeping into her tone. "I swear, if…" She trailed off, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Memories of their time together flashed through her mind, each one a reminder of what she had lost. "Anyways, we worked together for a couple of years. I helped him find information about Sparda's power, and he helped me learn to fight—when he wasn't annoyed by my presence. And then… he just left." Her words hung in the air, tinged with resignation.
"That's all? Oh, come on, I'd really like some more details," Nico pleaded, bouncing slightly on her toes, her excitement palpable. "It wasn't just as cut and dry as that, was it?"
"May as well have been," Andorra replied with a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "The rest doesn't really matter, because none of it was real."
Nico appeared confused for a moment before everything clicked into place. "Oh, oh…" she said, nodding slowly as understanding dawned. "I think I get it… Damn, no wonder you're always so pissy when he's around. I would be too." Empathy laced her words.
Andorra shrugged, attempting to brush it off. "Eh, whatever, right? It's all over and done with, in the past…"
"Still though… you're a better woman than I am. You've got more self-control. I'd be wanting some payback," Nico said, admiration mingling with incredulity.
"What good would it do?" Andorra asked, her voice tinged with bitterness. "He still doesn't see that he did anything wrong, and he regards me in a way that makes me feel like I'm nothing." Frustration bubbled to the surface. "I was hoping for at least some kind of acknowledgment, maybe even an apology… but I got nothing but the same cold, detached callousness as back then."
Nico fell silent for a moment, frowning slightly as she processed Andorra's words. Finally, she dared to speak. "You might not be looking hard enough," she said softly, stepping closer. "It ain't disregard that's in those eyes when he looks at you… it's subtle and short-lived, but there's something else there sometimes. I overheard Trish and Lady talking about it."
Andorra scoffed and rolled her eyes, skepticism etched on her face. "I can't believe for a second that Vergil feels any kind of guilt or remorse."
"I'm serious… he's just got his guard up. He's always been like that—Dante says so," Nico continued, her voice earnest. "Maybe he just doesn't know—"
"Enough…" Andorra interrupted, holding up a hand in a shushing gesture. Her tone was firm, clearly not wanting to hear any more. "If that's the case, then he needs to man the fuck up and do the right thing. End of discussion." She lowered her hand, her resolve unyielding.
Nico blinked, noticing how quickly Andorra's demeanor had changed. The angel hybrid had picked up a thing or two from Vergil, whether she realized it or not.
"Okay, okay… my bad," Nico apologized, taking a step back, sensing the tension in the air. "Changing the subject, as we speak." She gestured toward the Devil May Cry van, her expression earnest. "If you ever need to talk to anybody… I can assure you absolute privacy. You ain't gotta worry about him or anybody else hearing what's on your mind if you don't want them to know."
"Don't want who to know what?" a voice interrupted, causing both women to turn. It was Nero, striding toward them with his characteristic swagger.
"Nothing, just some girl talk," Nico said quickly, holding up Andorra's blades with a grin. "And some fresh ideas to badassify her weapons!"
"Uh-huh… you're offering to keep secrets when you can't stop talking for five seconds, aren't ya?" Nero teased, clearly seeing through Nico's playful facade.
"Girl talk is secrets, duh," Nico shot back, a mischievous smile on her lips. "I swear, it's like you don't know anything about us ladies. I'm surprised Kyrie's still with your clueless ass."
"Hey, just because you can't find a man doesn't mean you can—"
"All right, all right…" Andorra interrupted, chuckling slightly. "Calm down, you two. Y'all fight like you're siblings."
"Hey, he started it!" Nico protested, crossing her arms defensively.
"I did not!" Nero retorted, indignation in his voice.
"My point exactly," Andorra said, still chuckling. "Behave, or I'll put you both in time-out." She didn't mean it, and she couldn't put two twenty-somethings in actual time-out, but it was fun to say.
Before either could protest, Trish stepped outside, her presence commanding immediate attention.
"You ready?" she asked,her gaze fixed on Andorra. It was their turn to spar now.
"Oho, you bet!" Andorra replied, adrenaline coursing through her veins. "I've been waiting for the chance to test myself against you!" A full-blooded, humanoid demon who wielded electricity? Sign her up!
Trish laughed lightly, the sound playful yet tinged with determination. "I won't go easy on you," she warned, getting into position and assuming an offensive stance as Nero and Nico backed away, their expressions a mix of excitement and concern.
"I'd be offended if you did," Andorra responded, cracking her knuckles, her grin widening as she felt the rush of anticipation. "Let's see if you can actually knock me on my ass—"
A short while later, Andorra found herself sprawled on the ground, the acrid taste of smoke filling her lungs as she coughed violently. Each hack sent tremors through her body, and the world around her was a blur of muted colors, the storm clouds overhead swirling ominously, as if mirroring the chaos within her.
Trish's electricity had packed one hell of a kick, and Andorra hadn't anticipated that demonic energy would affect her in the same way as other powers. Her skin was blistered and red, a painful tapestry of mottled hues painting her arms, legs, chest, and neck—darkened veins snaking beneath the surface, resembling tattoos traced by a merciless hand. Her normally meticulously kept hair stood on end, a wild halo framing her face, smoke wafting up from her twitching form as the remnants of the attack coursed through her.
"Yep…" she managed to say through gritted teeth, her voice strained and raspy as she struggled to push herself up. "You knocked me on my ass…"
"And I was actually taking it easy on you with that jolt," Trish replied, sauntering over with a casual confidence, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of concern as she looked down at Andorra, who had long since given up on sitting upright and remained sprawled on the ground. "Vergil was right; demons do cause more harm to you…" She frowned slightly, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, her brow furrowing as she assessed Andorra's condition. "You gonna be okay?"
Andorra flashed a strained but genuine grin, the attempt at levity masking the pain radiating through her. "Should be," she replied, her confidence unwavering despite her battered state. "Gimme a day or two."
Trish's brow remained furrowed in concern, but she wasn't about to argue with the stubborn woman. Andorra had just been shocked, her veins and arteries cauterized from the inside out. A normal human would be dead by now.
She glanced over to Nero and Nico, who had approached, their expressions a blend of worry and readiness to help if Andorra was seriously injured.
"Whoo-wee…" Nico exclaimed softly, her eyes widening at the sight of Andorra's injuries. "That looks like it hurts."
"Like a motherfucker…" Andorra agreed, her limbs still twitching occasionally as the remnants of electricity danced beneath her skin. "Remind me… to not get on your bad side." She managed to say to Trish, who chuckled lightly, but the concern in her eyes didn't fade.
It was… interesting to see just how much demonic powers affected the angelic hybrid.
"Perhaps next time you should dodge, then," Trish teased, her voice softening a little as Andorra managed to force herself into a sitting position.
"I'll, ngh, keep that in mind," Andorra grunted, every muscle in her body protesting against the movement. Sparks of pain ignited within her damaged nerves, but she pushed through it, determined not to show weakness.
"You need a hand?" Nero asked, extending one of his own down. A mixture of concern and respect shone in his eyes, and Andorra noticed it, stirring something within her—a flicker of fear, perhaps, or maybe something deeper.
"Nah…" she replied, shaking her head as she reached into an air pocket at her side and withdrew a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid.
"I'll admit hydration is important, but maybe you should consider healing…" Nico observed, her eyes wide with curiosity as Andorra gripped the cork of the bottle between her teeth and popped it out with a swift tug.
"I am," Andorra grunted, spitting the cork onto the ground before proceeding to chug the contents. The cool liquid slid down her throat, and she felt a rush of relief as it washed over her.
As she downed the potion, the redness and blistering of her skin began to heal, the darkened veins lightening with each passing moment. Whatever was in that vial was working wonders.
"Holy water," she said when she was done, her skin regaining its creamy pale color, transforming her back into the Andorra everyone knew.
"Of course, the thing that burns demons would heal you…" Nero commented, a mix of amazement and admiration in his tone as he watched the transformation unfold.
"Works wonders," Andorra replied, her voice returning to its usual clarity, free of the thick, smoky rasp. "This is only a little, so I won't be fully healed, but it'll suffice for now." She tested her limbs, moving her arms and flexing her fingers, feeling the lingering ache dissipate.
"A little lingering soreness, but at least I don't look and feel like I got deep-fried," she added with a chuckle, the humor cutting through the tension that had settled among them.
"Are you good enough for another round?" Trish asked her.
"Oh no, not today." Andorra replied with a chuckle as she tried to smooth out her hair. "Normally, I'd say yeah, but it's been a long day already. I'm about ready to call it quits."
She was done for today, even if she didn't want to admit it. Fighting against devils was one thing; sparring with others that were trained to do the same was another.
Besides… Given it was late in the afternoon, Andorra had a feeling Vergil would be getting back soon, and she didn't want to be around him any longer than was absolutely necessary. As if her thoughts had summoned him, she spotted Vergil walking back into the Devil May Cry, his expression unreadable as always.
"All in all, I think you're making good progress." Trish said. "You catch on quickly with learning techniques, though you seem to get a bit… reckless sometimes."
"Yeah… so I've been told before." Andorra grumbled, her mind briefly going back to one of her first sparring lessons with Vergil way back when. "I'm working on it, though. And I'm not as bad as I used to be." At least, she didn't think so. But not having anyone to train with didn't allow her to have such constructive criticism…
"Man, I just love it when badasses get more badass!" Nico said with a giggle. "It's like watching history being made…"
"Really, and Redgrave wasn't enough history being made for ya?" Nero teased her.
"You know what I mean!" she retorted, waving him off. "Anyways, Andorra, I'm gonna give these back to you, and whenever you're ready to try that experiment, just let me know." She handed Andorra back her blades.
"Thanks, I will." Andorra said, satisfied her hair was somewhat back to normal as she grabbed her blades and put them back at the holsters on her hips, glad to feel their familiar weight once more. "I'm gonna head out; I'll catch y'all later." She turned to leave, savoring the moment of camaraderie, but her relief was short-lived.
Just as she started to walk away, Andorra was surprised to see Vergil suddenly appear directly beside her, the woman jumping slightly with a small yelp.
"Don't do that!" she snapped out of pure instinct at being startled. "Jeez… what do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms and looking up at him.
"This knowledge might be useful for you." He held out a dusty tome, the cover worn and the pages yellowed with age.
Andorra quirked a brow, her skepticism and caution settling on her face. "Uh… okay?" she said, warily reaching out and taking the book. "Why are you helping me? In what way do you think I can be of use to you?"
"That is not why," he replied, his tone clipped and devoid of elaboration. Turning away, he began to walk away, but something seemed to hold him back. He paused, glancing over his shoulder, an almost imperceptible tension in his stance.
Andorra looked over at him, regarding him carefully, searching for the flicker of something more in his expression, as Nico had suggested. Could there be guilt there?
"If you have something to say, I suggest figuring out how to do so quickly," she said, placing the book in an air pocket. "Before I lose what little patience I have left."
The air thickened with unspoken words. Vergil's gaze flickered with something—regret? Frustration? But it was gone before she could decipher it. He simply nodded slightly, and continued to leave.
As Vergil turned away, Andorra felt an unexpected urge to call after him, to ask him to stay just a little longer. But the moment passed, leaving her with a mix of frustration and determination.
She watched him for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Then, with a simple shrug of her shoulders, she decided it was time to leave. There was no point in dwelling on the past, no reason to hold onto what could never be changed.