Chapter Text
The sandy ground was crunching beneath Dante’s boots as he marched on. The sky was a washed out blue,an almost grayish hue, and so was the entire empty landscape before him.
The red half-devil looked up, dozens of birds were flying in slow, lazy circles low in the distance. It was the only sign of movement all around him.
He didn’t know how he ended up here, nor where “here” was exactly. Was he back in the Underworld ? The desert expanding before him felt unnatural and ominous, the empty vast space dried out and devoid of any kind of vegetation.
Dante followed the birds. Their dark silhouette was a stark contrast against the too pale background. Whatever was awaiting him further away seemed to be of great interest to those creatures.
Everything was eerie silent and even the sound of his own steps felt muffled. As he kept walking, the hunter felt an uneasy feeling spread inside his guts. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what was setting him on edge but it felt like something was missing. A void inside his soul that hadn’t let itself been felt in a long time.
This place felt wrong. There was a presence weightening on his senses, pushing him forward. Dragging him towards the oily mass of gleaming feathers that gathered, clumped together in the distance.
Excited caws broke the deafening silence that had followed Dante until now. The gloomy, scratchy, symphony only served to amplify the half-devil’s rising anxiety. Why were those birds here ?
Walking closer to the amalgamation of black birds, Dante felt his breath catch as his heart skipped a beat. Between the black feathers, numerous beaks and sharp talons, he could distinguish a dark blue color. A very familiar shade of it.
Dante froze as the birds shifted their attention to him, tiny red eyes aggressively staring at him. Angry caws and ruffled up feathers couldn’t keep the red half-devil’s eyes from spotting the shape beneath them.
The hunter stood motionless, his eyes glued to the navy clad back of the still silhouette that was lying on its side, facing away from him. Light caught on the silver pattern on the sleeve as the birds shifted to face him.
The crows kept looking at Dante, unwilling to leave their prized possession. Some of them even ignored him entirely, profiting from their brethren's distraction to keep on pecking and scratching at their meal.
Dante’s brain couldn’t process the sight before him. He knew what was there and yet his eyes couldn’t focus on him.
The red twin’s gaze stayed glued to every single insignificant detail. The rusty stains on the ground. The silver decals on the back of the coat. The crow perched on the top of a black boot. Anything to delay the inevitable shattering of his heart.
One of the crows was still busy feasting, its beak ripping and tearing away, dark blood smeared all over it. It looked up at Dante and for a moment its mean little eyes changed.
The red beads started to glow until they were lit from inside and a third eye appeared on the top of its head. Three red orbs were floating on the black background, just like his eyes. Mundus’.
For a moment Dante’s fury eclipsed everything else. He snatched Ivory and shot the damned bird into oblivion. The rest of the crows quickly took flight at the booming sound and flew away in a hurry, abandoning the still twitching corpse of their comrade.
A heavy silence fell back on the empty field, only disrupted by the hammering heartbeat inside Dante’s chest. There was nothing left to distract him, nothing left to keep him from seeing. From knowing.
A tiny, desperate, shard of hope still clung to his soul. Maybe this was just a prank, his twin making him worry for the gist of it. Maybe Dante was mistaken and this wasn’t even him.
His hand reached for the dark sleeve, his trembling fingers closing over the embroidered silvery threads on the upper arm. He pulled gently and the body rolled limply over.
Dante couldn’t help but take a panicked step back, stumbling under the crashing wave of emotions. He turned away, his legs threatening to give out as the world spun wildly. He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think. His whole being rejecting the moment.
His hands clenched tightly before opening back up, spasming uncontrollably, unconsciously searching for something to hold on to. But there was nothing left for him to grasp.
His knees felt weak and he ended up crashing to the ground, his back just a breath away from his sibling’s form. The red half devil’s empty hands fisted on the sturdy leather of his pants as a first sob escaped him.
Folding in half under the overwhelming pain wrecking his heart, he started to rock back and forth. His face buried in his hands he tried desperately to block reality from tearing him apart but somewhere in the twisted emptiness inside his heart, something was nagging him to look. To see.
Tears burned hot in his eyes and he took a shaky breath. The hunter’s gaze ended up traveling back to the motionless silhouette next to him and his heart shattered all over again.
Scrambling clumsily closer he reached down and picked his twin up, wrapping his arms around his back to hold him against his heart.
He buried his face in his shoulder, the body limp and cold against him. It tore a part of Dante’s very soul. The red twin rocked the corpse back and forth searching for any kind of comfort. Comfort for himself and for him.
Dante felt something wet and sticky under his hands and he looked over the blue twin’s back. His hands were covered in blackish blood, it spread from his fingertips down to his elbows. The blue coat beneath his arms was soaked in it.
The hunter’s heart clenched painfully before it started to pound madly. Panic was flooding him, choking him, as reality started to dawn on him. He’s gone.
The image of his stained hands got blurry, every thundering beat of his heart echoing inside the emptiness in his mind where his twin’s presence used to be. His vision grew black and red and he felt faint. The world was falling apart and so was he.
How did it come to this ?
Dante abruptly woke up.
He jumped from his chair, sending it sliding backwards a short distance. His heart was beating frantically, his throat was clogged with grief.
The room kept spinning and the red half-devil put his hands on the surface of his desk to ground himself. It took him a moment to realise that he was home. At his desk.
He let himself fall back in his chair, trembling from head to toe as the adrenaline was fading from his system. He felt lightheaded and breathless, his cheeks and eyes wet.
Taking a shaky breath he tried to calm himself. It had been a nightmare. Just another awful, painful, nightmare. The red half-devil felt shaken to the core. He had had his wide share of nightmares but none had felt this terrible. This real.
He shivered, still terrified to look up and find himself back into the horrifying vision. He looked down at his hands but there was no blood to see; only his black, worn-out, gloves.
Dante was startled when a soft thud resonated just next to him. He lifted his gaze and saw a cup full of steaming coffee placed right in his line of vision. The red porcelaine was held by a familiar gloved hand.
Hope and fear fighting one another, the red half-devil followed the navy blue sleeve up until he found pale blue eyes watching him with a frown.
Relief threatened to drown Dante and he took another too shaky breath as he just stared into pale blue. His mind was blank, too caught up in the vertigo of solace to form words. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to make sure this was real. To feel his warmth obliterate the lingering coldness of death that lingered inside his mind.
The gaze staring at him shifted before Dante could give in to the irrational urge.
“Another nightmare, I guess ?” Vergil asked, observing the colors slowly returning on his brother’s face.
Dante just nodded as he wiped his eyes away. He would usually feel ashamed at the childish display of distress but his heart felt too raw to care for something so insignificant now. Wherever this nightmare had come from, it had left him bruised from the inside.
The blue twin stayed in front of his brother’s desk. He had been awakened by a whimper escaping his sleeping sibling, and so he had carefully listened from his own room. He had heard Dante’s erratic breathing and his frantic heartbeat.
At first he hadn’t made too much of it, they both suffered numerous nightmares, but then he had heard a sob and that had prompted him to get down. Dante's worst dreams often left him stressed-out, angry or afraid, but the blue twin had never heard such distress.
Whatever the red twin had seen in his slumber, it had shaken him so badly that even now that he was awake he didn’t manage to put on the nonchalant and brash facade he used to hide behind. Right now his twin looked almost… vulnerable and it left Vergil feeling agitated.
This behavior was so unnatural for his sibling that the older brother felt the need to fix this, whatever “this” exactly was. But Dante was not answering him. He kept staring at him with wide, wet eyes that begged for something Vergil couldn’t quite comprehend.
As the red half-devil kept frozen in place and worry started to grow inside the blue twin’s mind, Vergil’s hand let go of the coffee mug. He needed to help his brother snap out of whatever still had a hold on him.
In a rare, and uncharacteristic gesture coming from him, the Dark Slayer reached out with his hand and cupped his twin’s right cheek.
It worked well for the look of pure surprise on Dante’s face was almost comical. The contact snapped the red half-devil out of his thoughts and Vergil saw as his gaze grew sharper, more focused on the present.
Dante felt the smooth leather on his cheek, the heat radiating from Vergil’s hand burning away the reminiscence of his despair under a wave of surprise and joy. This was real. His twin was here, alive and well. With this final realisation, Dante’s brain finally found how to put words together again and he finally answered his twin’s earlier question.
“Yeah, it was… bad.” He whispered softly. “Thanks, Verge.” He was thanking his twin for the coffee. For his presence in the middle of the night. He was thanking the whole universe that this nightmare had been nothing more than a hallucination, a mirage that would soon be forgotten.
“There is no need.” The blue twin answered, letting go of his twin’s face now that he seemed fully awakened. “Do you want to… talk about it ?”
Dante took a moment to think about the offer before he made a decision.
“Nah, I’d rather forget about it completely.” He answered. It was true but the real reason was that it felt too painful to go over it again. At least for now.
“Suite yourself.” Vergil said as he took a few steps back from the desk, nearing the couch in the corner.
Dante’s gaze followed him through the room, he still felt the faintest need to reassure himself that he was alright. The hunter’s gaze swept over the shop and stopped on the big wooden box that was standing near the entrance.
Right, they still had some work to do. It was really early, absurdly so by the hunter’s standards, but the red twin didn’t want to go back to sleep. Not right away.
Taking a sip of warm coffee, Dante decided that if he was already awake he should make use of the time and so he stood up, and went to check out the case’s contents.
The wooden coffer had been dropped at the office yesterday morning by his ex-informant, Enzo. They did not work together anymore but the man had made contact with Dante concerning one of the Devil-arms that was in his possession.
Dante had given Enzo a large amount of Devil-arms to cover up part of his debts. However, the informant had found himself obliged to bring back one of them.
The man had explained that the weapon, that had been left in his care for many years now, had started to act violently. It had attacked the broker repeatedly, endangering his life, and so Enzo had brought the Devil-arm back to Dante.
After all, he was the weapon’s true master. He was the one who had defeated the demon and made him relinquish his soul in the form of a weapon. If the demon was keen on challenging his master for freedom, Dante would need to defeat him and make it submit again.
The red half-devil slid the top of the box to the side and couldn’t help but smirk. He had missed this almost guitar-shaped weapon. The Nevan.
“Hey sweetheart, long time no see.” The red half-devil murmured to the blade and it warmed up slightly in welcome.
Well, she wasn’t attacking him. Then why would she abruptly wreak havoc in Enzo’s shop ? This was strange.
Dante was reflecting on the possible reasons for a Devil-arm to act strangely when the entrance door of the Devil May Cry opened and Trish walked in. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes and her face a bit pale. She strode inside like she owned the place and she aimed straight for Dante’s desk to steal his coffee.
“Hey Trish ! You’re early.” Dante greeted her, leaving the box to go retrieve his mug.
“You’re the one to talk, I didn’t expect to find you already awake.” She smiled and nodded a careful greeting at Vergil’s direction. The atmosphere between the two of them was still awkward at the best of times.
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t sleep so… “ Dante brushed the topic off, he wasn’t in the mood to talk about that. “What brings you here anyway ? I thought you were hunting demons with Lady in some lost shithole.”
“We did but the nest was really small so it took less time than expected. I’m on another job now, and I wanted to get your opinion.” The blond demon answered as she sat on top of the desk, keeping on stealing the red hunter’s beverage.
“Give me my coffee back and maybe, I’ll listen. “ Dante extended a hand expectantly, he needed the caffeine badly.
“Sharing is caring, you know….” She argued playfully but soon gave up on the mug. “I am looking into demonic activity. A shit ton of it.”
“In Redgrave ?” The red twin asked, coming to sit back in his chair and Trish turned slightly to face him.
“Yes, but not only there, my informants are telling me about large movements inside the Underworld too. Something’s up and I don’t like it. “ She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face.
“Why would demons gather ?” Dante asked, brows raised in surprise.
“Words are that … the Prince of Darkness will soon be back on the Black Throne.” Trish answered stiffly.
Vergil and Dante’s gaze narrowed on her and she could feel the murderous intent floating in the air.
“I killed him.” Dante spat in disgust.
“You know as well as I do that death is relative for demons. Especially for those powerful enough, and Mundus had eaten the fruit of the Qliphoth. His essence is probably still existing somewhere in the Underworld but he should be too weak to act.“ The blond demon sighed before standing back up and then she started to pace the room nervously.
“Bringing him back would require a large amount of fuel.” Vergil commented quietly.
“Yes, and a powerful demon to rally his troops and prepare his return. And I think this is what is currently happening in the Underworld.” Thrish looked through the window, morose.
“Okay so we kill that demon and so there will be no one to try to bring him back.” Dante shrugged.
“We can’t be sure if this rumor is true. A demon could be trying to ascend to the throne and use Mundus’ name to build himself an army.” Vergil countered, still sitting on the couch.
“There is a high chance that this is the case but we can’t know for sure until we figure out what is happening.” Trish said, coming to a halt next to the desk again.
“Okay so what’s your plan ?” Dante asked the demon.
“We need to go and investigate the demon activity in Redgrave first. Maybe it will help us understand what is happening.” The blond demon suggested, hoping that the twins would join her.
“What are we waiting for then, let’s go. “ Dante exclaimed and got up. He was actually happy to do something. To go out and get some fresh air to help him forget his nightmare.