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bane-amesta · 5 months ago

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Vergil's journey: The true DMC5 Special Edition (?)

First attempt ever at posting fics here, let me know if I made a mistake in any sort of way plz Basically this is my "fuck it I'll do it myself" about Crapcom's custom to make Vergil playable just a copypaste into the og campaign with no story or context at all lmao

Also is a prologue for my longer DMC5 fic (too long to post it here sadly), I'll add the links to AO3 at the end :D Enjoy!

Autoimposed rules while writing this:

1º Using only Vergil's POV 2º Make it work within the game, aka not using scenarios, dialogs, etc from other entries 3º Make sure to add sections that can be interpreted as gameplay, cinematics, and also the trope of obtaining weapons along the way (I excluded bosses since this can be just any random thing from the enemies list lol) 4º Exclude any of my fanfic shenanigans since those are already a creature on its own xD

Nightmares were always with him. It was the only thing that was always with him. And he was on the verge of wishing for death just to see if he could make them dissapear once and for all.

Until suddenly, without any explanation, that endless cycle stopped.

He opened his eyes, looked around him, not knowing where he was. But that was not important. Hell will always be hell.

Something was different, however, the eternal torture that had become part of him was gone.

Finally, he looked at his hands, hoping to see the damn armor that had held him captive for how long? Months, years, centuries?

But no, there was none of that, except his own hands, covered by the usual gloves, and the blue coat was badly damaged, but not destroyed.

This was so unusual that it took him a while to understand. But it was undeniable.

Nelo Angelo was dead. Vergil had been reborn, survived, somehow.

He tried to get up, but he was very weak, in pain. But that pain was only physical, something new, because it told him that his body, even in that state, refused to die yet. He could see faint marks on his skin, as if he were made of clay about to crack. Yet he was still in one piece, alive.

And that was enough for the moment.

Hearing the usual demonic roar in the distance, he rushed to unsheathe his sword, only to realize it was not in his hand. For a brief second horror filled his face. But then his mind brought back the memories that had been taken from him when he was forced to be a puppet of the prince of darkness.

Vergil trying to get the power of Sparda, Dante trying to prevent it. The final battle at the entrance to the underworld, with his father's sword, his hands barely picking up the amulet that was rightfully his before leaping into the void.

Mundus, glaring at him as he charged forward feigning arrogance, despite knowing that this battle could be his last.

Finally, the darkness surrounding him as his sword fell to pieces, engulfed by a sea of blood, before his eyes were covered and his mind closed, to give the last touches at the new toy of the underworld's ruler.

His head kept spinning, all that coming back suddenly was too cruel.

Vergil managed to get up at last, not so much from needing to move, as to focus his thoughts on something else, anything, but it was useless. The memories kept coming back to him.

Trish's creation, Mallet Island, Dante fighting his way with his father's sword instead of his own, and facing Nelo Angelo without knowing who was behind the armor.

What would Dante have thought after that victory, and discovered Vergil behind the creature he just killed?

He put his hand to his neck on reflex, and found only the fabric of his worn clothes. He almost felt like laughing. Even the amulet, now useless, had been taken from him.

Another noise, closer this time, brought him back to reality. This time he had no choice, he must face danger, or flee. But Vergil has never been that kind of person.

Even without his Yamato, he was going to fight somehow.

With enormous effort, he accomplished his goal. About eight bright blue swords appeared around him, creating a constantly rotating shield. A technique created years ago, imbued with the most vivid despair, when he was still a child and there was no one, nothing to protect him.

That idea made him frown. He greatly disliked having to go back to this to survive, but after thinking about it for a moment, none of it mattered anymore.

He has anything to lose, not anymore.

And he could still fight.

He walked in the direction of the noise, which turned out to be a miserable low-grade demon, which didn't last long enough for it to mean anything. At least in this state he could still have that kind of personal satisfaction.

The only thing he regretted was not being able to beat his brother one last time. He had been defeated so many times that he could no longer live or die in peace until he did. A single victory was all he needed.

How to do it was not clear yet, but he was sure that something could be done about it.

Yamato separated the demons from the humans. It was the key to isolate both worlds and separate them completely.

...Why had that particular phrase popped into his mind?

More importantly, did that phrase have a more literal meaning than he ever thought?

There was one thing Vergil had never tried, and which, in the current situation, might as well be his last chance.

Dante's power awakened when Vergil pierced his brother's body with his own sword.

Something that never happened to him.

What would happen to Vergil if he did the same?

The only way to know was to try.

The Yamato was so attached to his being, that he feel capable to even tracking the sword, as soon as he had regained some energy.

That was motivation enough to keep walking.

With effort he disposed of the garbage that crossed his path, even before they knew he was there. The summoned swords turned into spears that he could throw away, saving energy. His body wasn't in the best shape, so he wasn't going to try too hard if he could help it. Vergil was grateful for the distant moment when he received a simple but powerful advice: that disdaining firearms was no excuse for not having an ace up his sleeve, in the form of a long-range attack.

If he had no weapons, he could just try creating some other variation of the same attack, after all, he had plenty of time to experiment. And there were many demons that could give him something interesting after a fight.

The latter was an idea that he would only use in an emergency, since it was nevertheless only one weapon that he really needed. The rest was optional.

He kept walking and slaying demons, avoiding the ones that were too much for his current abilities, for who knows for how long. Time is a concept that have its own rules in the underworld, but something was evident. The Yamato was in the human world. He had to find a way to get back.

Luckily for him, the most powerful demons used to be near the dimensional holes that led to the other side, which they always used to go hunting when they were fed up with the usual garbage.

When he was not fighting for his life, Vergil heard voices, rumors of something coming, an event so strange that some no longer remembered whether it was true or not, but that those who were above the rest knew very well, and were preparing to take advantage of it.

The Qlipoth, the demon tree, was growing again, and it would soon reach the human world. And the demon who managed to eat its fruit would rise as the king, the strongest of all, just like Mundus in his day.

With such an opportunity, no one cared about the poor wretches at the end of the food chain. Something that of course Vergil used for his own purposes. Being ignored, probably for the first time as Sparda's son, deeply offended him, but he couldn't afford it, considering his state. Besides, he had more important things to do.

At this point, he had already managed to create a near-perfect copy of the Force Edge, his father's sword, which he was unable to claim for himself and ended up in Dante's hands. He was still somewhat angry about it, but lamenting was useless. This new version was part of his energy and therefore he would never lose it. That gave him a little more self-confidence.

And perhaps luck was reaching out to him, feeling guilty after ignoring him for so long, because as soon as he set foot in the human world, he knew immediately where to turn.

The city of Fortuna.

Unfortunately, his body was not in tune with his mind, since he also felt that what little strength he had gathered was leaving him again, this time with the certainty that there's no time to waste. A quick glance at the first surface that allowed it, informed Vergil that his face was beginning to crack as well. So the first thing he did in the human world was look for something that would hide his pathetic appearance.

Another unexpected stroke of luck led him to find Beowulf on his way to his destination, at the home of a collector who clearly had no idea of the weapon's true value.

In the eyes of mere humans, that would be considered theft, for Vergil it was nothing more than recovering something long time lost.

But his body grew weaker and weaker; for the same reason, his mind was focused back on that single purpose, dispatching the enemies that appeared as quickly as possible, conveniently forgetting that he had already visited that city once, and that the young man who kindly offered him something to eat might or might not to be more than just a stranger.

Why did he have the Yamato? Why was his appearance so similar to Vergil's?

Those questions disappeared immediately, the boy noticed that something was wrong, and his arm flashed to show him the threat.

That was all that Vergil needed, with what little strength he had left, he tore off the kid's arm without hesitation, and calling the sword, opened a portal, crossing it without looking back, with the certainty that he had won another enemy.

But that didn't matter. His mission was more important, he could not afford to die without achieving it first. And a child was no reason to worry. The end justifies the means, after all.

He went on his way, although this time the correct thing to say would be that he was going back instead of forward. Going back to his childhood's city was not something to take lightly.

Vergil is not the kind of person to look back. He never did it before, it was a waste of time, a useless torture. Right now, however, it was a kind of ritual that needed to be done.

To achieve his goal, severing ties permanently was a prerequisite.

And doing it in the old family home was the most appropriate thing to do.

He looked at the huge portrait of what was once a happy family. It was quite damaged, but the overall image was still somehow recognizable. Mysteriously the mother had been "saved", her features were the only ones clearly visible, while the face of the father and the two children had been lost in the black of combustion.

How ironic, Vergil thought, as he focused on the twins, and it didn't take any effort to tell them apart, it was obvious to him.

-Dante...

His twin brother, the only living relative he had left, the reason he was there, about to abandon everything, hoping to regain his lost honor back, in one last desperate attempt.

Turning his back on the portrait, to his family, he focused on what he had come to do, he didn't know what would come of it all, but again, it didn't matter anymore.

Separating man from demon was his last hope, and along with it, he also took care to cut off everything he considered a weakness, the reasons for his defeat, the nightmares that constantly reminded him that he still had not managed to obtain the power that he had sought so much.

He stabbed himself with the sword while he recited that spell that, to tell the truth, he no longer remembered where he found it.

As pain stalked him again, he felt that his plan had worked, his human side and his nightmares were successfully discarded, and something grew within him, a raw and savage power that grew ever greater.

And so Vergil ceased to exist... for a period of a month, or so.

When V achieved his own goal, and plunged the cane into the demon king to unite the two halves again, the being known as Vergil returned. As he watched the pieces of the illusion fall, the mansion disappearing, he realized that he never predicted this outcome. V had been discarded and his mission was fulfilled at the exact moment of his "birth", but he did not expect that, instead of lying down to die and accepting his fate, that remnant of his would do the opposite.

However, to say that he was upset about it would be a lie.

Because thanks to that, this time he could finally face his old rival in the same conditions, a fair and long-awaited fight, because yes, Urizen had also left his mark on this new Vergil and he remembered his battles, but for some reason, it was not the same.

Perhaps the human side of him was much more complex or important than he ever thought, but Urizen, powerful as he was, was far too… simple. A creature with only one purpose in mind was not what Vergil wished for when he thought of a perfect demon, and his victories were far from truly satisfying.

Vergil didn't have an answer to this question, and he would probably never find it, but that was past.

At this moment, something more interesting was in front of him: Dante, tired, but in the mood for a fight.

Beside him, that boy, Nero, his expression showed with brutal frankness the confusion he felt in this strange situation. He had helped V, but of course he never imagined that V was a part of the individual who stole his arm. Even with V's explanation, he didn't seem to understand why this was absolutely necessary for the brothers, something inevitable.

However, instead of going straight for the attack, Vergil looked to the ground, where was the book that V had taken with him from the first seconds of his existence. Again, he wondered why he had held onto that object so vehemently. It was not a weapon, nor was it a pleasant memory, yet he couldn't help it. Now, as Vergil, he did the same, pick it up, and put it away. Something unusual about him, but there was no time to think, Dante made the first move.

Vergil felt refreshed, this time, stronger than ever thanks to the fruit of the tree, which gifted him with a couple of new skills that he was eager to try, and dispatched Dante almost effortlessly. He even felt the luxury of giving his brother a chance to rest, before the final fight.

For some reason he couldn't understand at the time, he turned around, looking at Nero before disappearing through the portal.

-Thank you, Nero...

Why he said that? Those kinds of words weren't his style, always used to getting what he needed on his own. But denying the boy's participation was absurd, even when V didn't hesitate for a moment to use him as a tool to achieve his goal, Nero as well didn't hesitate to help V when he was so close to die.

Vergil opened his eyes again. This time he was at the top of the demon tree, thousands of meters above the city, waiting patiently for Dante, and in that span of time he had done something unbecoming of him: look back, reflect on the past and all the decisions that led to this time and place. It must have been a bad habit inherited from V, who had perhaps become too used to that mental torture, as he searched for the discarded nightmares in a pathetic attempt to confront Urizen.

But that little lapse had come to an end. Dante had arrived, demanding the sword that belonged to him by right, and that this time no one would steal it ever again.

-If you want it, you'll have to take it. But you already knew that.

-I had the feeling you'd say that.

A smile was born from both of them, aware that this time would be the last. Years of conflict and rivalry, condensed into a decisive battle.

One of the two would die here. But even so they smiled, remembering old times and accustomed from their earliest childhood to solving everything that way, their own particular way of relating as a family.

That last word, however, ended up attacking Vergil in an unexpected way, when Dante in the middle of the fight, remarked casually (or perhaps with a well-calculated purpose), that Nero was his son.

-You cutt off your own son's arm for THIS?

-My son…? That means nothing to me!- Vergil replied immediately, without stopping to think about what Dante had meant.

The confrontation continued almost like nothing, but when Vergil was about to be defeated, he stepped aside to throw Dante away, and in that moment, his brain finally made the missing connection.

-Nero is my son?- He asked wearily, unable to hide the disbelief in his voice.

-Yeah, dumbass- Dante answered with a slight laugh as he got up-, You can't remember through that thick skull of yours?

If Vergil stopped to think, yes, it all made sense, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, even that annoying bird hinted at V more than once the same thing. Something that, in those moments of uncertainty, did not matter.

Although it was more correct to say that he deliberately ignored all the clues.

But then, something else passed through his mind, a memory that he had believed dead and forgotten, a woman's face that...

-Well, well, that was a long time ago- he said without further ado, ending that topic.

-I guess you were young once too. As much as I'd love to hear that story, I think it's about time we...

-...Ended this- Vergil answered immediately.

That was too deep of a secret, which he preferred to take to the grave, and would do everything he could to make sure of it.

Dante would never know about that matter. If he already had motives to kill him before, now he must do it at any cost.

Both men drew their weapons, took their most powerful form, ready for one last attack.

They charge at the same time, intending to finish it all in one strike.

The dreaded final slash never happened. Something appeared in front of the brothers, stopping them with a hand on their chest, also holding the hands that wielded both swords at the same time.

A demon with long white hair and blue wings.

They barely had time to recognize Nero, before he threw them away, and gave his own opinion on the matter.

-This ends, right here. I won't let you kill each other.

Vergil couldn't help but react when Nero in one blow sent Dante flying as he tried to pull the boy to the side, without even looking at him. Maybe the boy was indeed his son after all.

He was aware that Nero was still upset about being called a deadweight, and knew immediately from whom he had inherited that spiteful trait.

Unfortunately, he couldn't celebrate seeing Dante on the ground, because now Nero turned in his direction.

-There are other ways to settle your differences. I'm putting a stop to this sibling rivalry.

Vergil couldn't help but laugh. Nero made it sound so easy.

The situation was so absurd.

A child trying to teach adults a lesson.

-Ah, you came all this way just for that.

-Vergil, V... Whatever you call yourself. Dante won't die here, and neither will you. You have a problem with that?

Okay, now this was unusual. V witnessed in the front row his talent to hold a grudge, how Nero was determined to defeat and eliminate the bastard who cut off his arm. Perhaps knowing now that they were family had made Nero reconsider, despite what Vergil had done to him?

Would he forgive him just for that?

No, of course not, that was not what Nero had in mind. He would not be a descendant of Sparda if he chose the peaceful route.

So this kid wants to fight. Vergil understood his motives, of course, but that was not equivalent to taking him seriously. Having a new power was not enough. Vergil tried to engage Dante, tempt him to fight again and thus pushing Nero aside, but he completely ignored him.

-Whatever, I don't really care, I'm just gonna sit this one out- said the younger twin, laying down on the ground ready to take a nap.

Damn it, Dante.

So it was Vergil vs Nero.

-When this is over, I'll make you submit… Father.

That word sent a chill down his spine. It was strange, unknown, and he immediately knew he would never get used to it.

Again Vergil tried to not engage in the fight.

-This has nothing to do with you. Stand down.

-Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me!

-Nero…

He suddenly realized something. It's not just that he has no reason to fight Nero.

Vergil doesn't want to fight Nero.

But why?

It's not fear, no. The boy is stronger now, but he is still too young and inexperienced to compare up to the twins. Or maybe, maybe yes, because Nero wants something very particular out of this fight, and Vergil isn't willing to even think about it.

He just dodged, and launched weak attacks. He really did not want to take the situation to a point of no return, but the boy would not listen to reasons.

-Fuck you!

-You…

The kid is angry. Without even seeing him grow up, Vergil knew that he had inherited the method of solving problems with his fists. It brought back memories of those old fights with Dante over anything and everything, but this time the motive was more important, getting Vergil to recognize him as his son.

-You feeling accepting yet?

-…Your existence, or your strength?

-Both you fuckin' asshole!

...If Nero wants recognition from him, then he will have to earn it.

It was time to check the boy's real strength.

Vergil had no choice but to fight seriously, an oversight could send him flying, just like Dante. He wasn't going to let himself be humiliated by the boy, not when he could see Dante out of the corner of his eye, sitting down and enjoying the show. He wanted so badly to kick his ass when it was all over...

The fight ran its course, and to Vergil's disappointment, the youngest was the winner.

-Interesting...

-Ahahaha, oh brother, you cut off your son's arm for more power, and you still lost.

-Enough dammit! The underworld is taking over, we need to do something before it's too late.

A trembling proved Nero right.

-He's right, we need to close that portal. Hey, you lost, so you better do what he says.

Vergil wasn't going to admit defeat so easily. He got to his feet as best he could, and for the first time he felt that the weight of his age was upon him.

-I can still fight.- Nero was on guard again. -But if those roots continue to spread through town, it'll just interfere with our business.

Vergil started walking and Dante got up to follow him, leaving Nero behind.

It was not necessary to explain to his brother what they had to do. Without crossing a word they had already agreed.

-Now, that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say. Better hurry up… We still got a score to settle.

-Evidently.

-Wait, where are you going?

Vergil turned to Nero to explain the situation.

-We need to sever the Qliphoth roots from the underworld itself. Then we'll seal the portal with the Yamato.

Nero looked at them both, immediately understanding the situation.

-Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back.

This time Dante answered.

-Why do you think I'm goin'? Somebody's gotta keep an eye on your old man.

The brothers turned their backs on Nero as they walked away.

-You can't just expect me to stay here while you both go-

-It's because you're here we can go-. Dante said suddenly. -We're trusting you with things on this side, capisce?

Vergil didn't stop to watch. Whatever relationship those two had, that moment was the closest thing to a goodbye, and he didn't want to be a part of it. It was better to leave as soon as possible.

-Make haste, Dante.

-Yeah. I know.

Of course, Nero disagreed. There was no need to look him in the face to figure it out.

-Hey, wait!

They both heard him run in his direction, and with that twin instinct, they synchronized to hit the young man and send him flying back, far enough away that he couldn't do anything about it.

-Take care, Nero. Adiós.

Dante left first, clearly intending to give the two of them a moment alone.

Vergil wasn't in the mood for a family reunion, but he couldn't just walk away.

-I won't lose next time.

He looked at the book in his hand, considering that idea that had just occurred to him.

-Hold onto that until then.

There, it was done. He threw the book to the ground, and while he followed the same path as Dante leaving his son behind, he thought that "farewell" wasn't too bad.

Now there was only one problem left: getting rid of Dante.

It was obvious that he would stick to Vergil like a pesky plague while they were in the underworld. They were heading to cut down the demon tree and the younger twin was already talking way too much. Vergil let him be, more out of boredom than anything else. As soon as he managed to defeat Dante, that annoying chat would be a thing of the past.

But again his plans weren't working, and they were already enjoying the fights as a game rather than a death battle.

-Score for Dante! I'm up one.

-Where did you learn to count? We're even.

Dante lay down to rest, as if they weren't in the middle of hell, open to a possible attack.

-You know, I'm starting to think, this is never gonna end.

-Maybe. We have plenty of time.

He couldn't deny that there was some fun, just like the old days. The only problem is that Dante occasionally threw out things about Nero way too casually for Vergil's taste, like nothing.

-By the way, how'd it felt catching up with your kid?

-There's no need for us to "catch up".

-Well, with an attitude like that, you'll never gonna meet your grandkids.

Vergil didn't take a second to put the Yamato on his brother's neck.

-That's enough. I don't want to hear it.

Dante nodded, but his expression made it clear that he wasn't going to shut up about it so easily.

At least Vergil will have plenty of time to try to silence him once and for all...

My AO3 page for those interested

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurasakiWitch/works

#fanfic #ao3 #devil may cry 5 #dmc vergil #dmc dante #am i doing this right?

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