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Devil May Cry: Remnants	By : Radius Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 1606 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
AN: Pandora�s side of the day. And there�s a lovely
appearance by Vergil here. Hope you dig it. ^_~

***
Pandora�s Day 1 � Children of the Night ***

�� Pandora woke up to the sound of screeching guitars,
high-pitched violins, racketing drums, and a voice that sung so low and rough,
he sounded possessed. It was as appalling as hearing nails scratching on a
chalkboard, or teeth grinding against a metal fork. The black woman slowly sat
up from her bed, her waist-long dreadlocks sweeping downwards. She had a lean
and toned body, results of faithful training. Her eyes were a hazel color with
bronze lips full of volume. There was a small tattoo located on her left wrist,
signifying the symbol of her master. It was the brand given to each of his
children.
�� Pandora rubbed the back of her neck before checking
the clock on her night stand. It was just six in the morning but Faust was
already up apparently. Having himself a good time again, no
doubt. With an unfazed expression, Pandora moved her long legs from
under the sheets and stood up. She straightened her knee-length silky nightgown
before grabbing a robe hung from the wall next to her. Then
headed outside her room.
�� Once outside, she arrived at a long, violet-carpeted
hallway that curved. She looked toward the direction of the music and narrowed
her eyes. Meanwhile, her neighbor's door quietly opened and out came a
nine-year-little boy wearing pajamas. His wavy, black matted hair was all over
his face. He rubbed at his eyes with tiny fists. The music obviously woke him
too.
�� "Is it time to train, Pandora?" the little
boy asked with a strong English accent.
�� "No, little brother," she
answered evenly, consisting of an English accent of her own, "Now go
back to bed and try to get some sleep. We start at eight today."
�� She lied. Training always began at six, but today she
decided otherwise. Everyone in this mansion knew the rules but him. She'd be
damned if she let him get away with this again. It was inexcusable, even if he
was one of the eldest members in this mansion. They needed to train their
bodies and mind but they couldn't focus with him being here.
�� Four other doors opened in the same hallway. Two
young women and three men came out, all between the ages of fifteen to twenty.
When they saw Pandora barging out of the hallway and the little boy heading
back into his room, they realized training was going to be postponed today.
They went back to bed without saying a word to each other.
�� Descending down the mansion's main central staircase,
Pandora continued following the source of the irritable music. Her thoughts
focused on what to say.
�� The mansion she traveled within was massive, divided
into an east and west wing. The east wing belonged to Pandora and the rest of
her brothers and sisters. On the other hand, the west wing
were the quarters and study rooms of Faust, her cousin, and her master.
The kitchen, dining hall, ballroom, and library all resided on ground level. In
addition, there was a basement that descended three levels down. Basement one
held their training facilities and weaponry. Basement two practically belonged
to Wazermick since it possessed laboratories and a
library pertaining to alchemy and demonology. The final basement was the home
of the Neos as well as Voya.
This level was inaccessible to everyone in the mansion except for Nostra, Wazermick, and Pandora.
�� Overall, the mansion was designed in the French Gothic
style, with layers of laced masonry that seemed to drip from the ceiling. Pointed
arches signaled the beginning and end of rooms whereas delicately detailed
fixtures united the design scheme of the mansion. Large oil paintings of Nostra's deceased wives and children hung over the walls,
many of them done by him. Glorious crystal-made chandeliers and windows were
present in large areas that demanded a focus point. Staircases and hallways
were always decked in carpet, each a different color coordinating with the wing
they belonged to.
�� Outside the manor home displayed more gothic
structure with flying buttresses that seemed to stick out like the ribbed
skeletons of a behemoth. A large and intricately rendered rose window was just
above the double door entrance. The mansion�s extravagance was matched only by
the beauty of the landscape architecture that surrounded it. There was the open
foyer and grass-made maze at the north side. To the south was a round
pillar-made pathway that divided into two sections, one leading to the garden
area and the other to the cemetery. The garden contained a fountain area filled
with statues, trees, and flowers of nearly every species. The cemetery shared a
more quiet tone.
�� Punctum
Saliens Island was located just outside Europe.
The fog and electrical occurrences made it impossible for travelers and those
inland from discovering it. Of course, the fog and other irregularities those
people encountered weren�t coincidences. Nostra liked seclusion and took
measures to keep the outside world out. Even more startlingly, an extremely powerful
underwater demon was summoned from the other side to also ensure the island's
privacy.
�� They traveled frequently to England to study and observe. In
fact, Nostra sent all ten of his children to live among the people there for
approximately five years. Each had taken a small grasp of the languages spoken
by humans and even developed their accents, particularly English due to the
regional area they resided at. Even if Nostra considered himself
a demon first, his years as a human did make him appreciate a human�s values.
He wanted to carry that understanding over to his children.
�� Pandora finally reached the door where the music was
originating from. It led to the ballroom. She tried her best to keep a calm
composure before entering it. Emotional outbursts were a sign of weakness and
Faust had a terrible habit of exploiting a person's imperfections for his own
amusement. She opened the door and kept a straight face.
�� Upon entering, Pandora couldn't locate the man of the
hour. The ballroom was huge, almost half the size of a football field. A
painting of clouds containing demons and angels was epically depicted on the
ceiling above, which also contained a chandelier the size of a living room. The
long wire-encrusted windows at the far back wall were draped over by crimson
curtains that rippled into many straight folds. There was a staircase that led
to the second floor of the ballroom. A balcony was at the very end, its
entrance currently blocked by glass-made double doors. There was
also large armored statues lined against all sides of the walls, each
holding a red flag with the same symbol on Pandora's wrist.
�� Despite not locating Faust, Pandora did spot the
large stereo system responsible for the heavy metal racket on the west corner
of the ballroom. It was near a velvet-made couch that seemed to be abandoned.
The sound of her naked feet clacked gently on the marble floor as she advanced
towards it. She inspected the absurd device and, at last, found the off switch.
�� "Hey, now, that wasn't proper," a voice erupted
out of nowhere, nearly startling her.
�� She turned, seeing a man spread out on the couch
behind her. He had somewhat short, platinum blond hair that curled outwards at
the tips. A flip of bangs, slightly longer than the rest of his hair and
highlighted in pink, covered one of his vivid-purple colored eyes.
Pandora always found
Faust to be very metrosexual in his fashion choices
and habits. His fascination with Queen Elizabeth I often decided his wardrobe,
however. Very often, Faust tended to dress up like the deceased ruler of England,
having purchased actual clothes during her era. Many days of the week he had on
an extravagant, ruffled dress, complete with long robe and crown. He had a
scepter but rarely used it since he already had his trusty, ivory cane. Faust
also had a wig too, its style fashioned according to Elizabeth�s time, which was all about volume
and a tedious series of curls. The only difference with her wig and his,
however, was that he dyed his pink. He had another wig on reserve, a blue one
that was very long and wavy, but he only wore it during very special occasions.
Today�s fashion choice
was no different. However, his current gown, a deep rich purple embedded with
beautiful beads and ivy-like embroidery, was placed next to him. It was
slightly torn from the bottom and, from what she could see, infested with human
excrement. Pandora noticed Faust still had on the pale white make-up, as well
as the lush red lipstick, blush, and mascara. It had a much more colorful
palette than the conservative one Elizabeth
wore; his eye shadow usually yellow and lipstick a blue hue with very pink
cheeks. That was another habit he gained from his obsession from the Queen.
Even on his off days, he donned the
statue-make-up look. Odd, after considering he already had pale skin.
Whenever he was
forbidden from wearing his gowns, he settled for his usual, silver-theme
outfit. At the moment, he had it on. His favorite silver coat was long and
contained white fur with black dotted spots at the collar area. There were some
chains attached to his coat's shoulder pads as well, which dangled every time
he moved. His striped black-and-white pants also had a unique design involving
chains and strings. And of course, as usual, he wore no shirt, only a series of
metal choker necklaces. Overall, the pants and coat seemed designed to amplify
his body�s best highlights, not provide much of practical means. Meanwhile,
abandoned on the floor were his shiny brown shoes that sat lifelessly near a
series of empty Champaign bottles.
�� Pandora was surprised to find Faust alone. Usually a
handful of women and men would be lying naked next to him and he�d still have
on his corset. Not be by himself; wearing his more sober clothes. As odd as it was having a man, or rather a former
devil commander, wear lipstick, mascara, gowns, and wigs, Faust was highly
attractive and easily appealed to both genders. It was no surprise that many
fell under his charms. Even when he decided to sport a ballroom gown, both men
and women found him absolutely attractive. Today must've been one of his gloomy
days.
�� Faust sat up, a small smile on his face. His plush,
blue lips brightened under the light. �I�m sorry. Did my music wake you, my
dear?�
�� Pandora's face remained calm despite the obvious
sarcastic tone in his voice. "The music was a bit too much and the others
are still in training."
�� "Oh yes," commented Faust and yawned,
making sure to expose much of his chest. "Nostra put you in charge of
training the babies. So tell me, how is their progress coming along?"
�� The black woman knew he could care less but answered
his question anyway. "Moderately."
�� "Excruciatingly slow, you mean." Faust
chuckled. Then looked at Pandora with a sideways glance, as
if he were undressing her with his mind. "Come here, darling. Let
me see that beautiful face of yours clearer. The morning haze is still
affecting my vision, I'm afraid. Allow me to see you in all your glory."
�� She wanted nothing more than to ram her fist into his
brain, but she complied with his request. He was ten times more powerful than
she was, despite his appearance and peculiar behavior. She also didn't want
Nostra to disapprove of her if she treated his second-in-command rudely.
Pandora stood in front of Faust, yet kept some distance from him. Still sitting
on the couch, Faust smiled. A moment past before he reached out and grabbed her
by the hips faster than the blink of the eye. He pulled her close to him.
�� "Breathless," he said and put a hand on her
left knee, "As always."
�� He moved his hand upward, beneath her night gown.
Lifting it up, he observed her thigh and ran a thumb at the inner part of it.
�� "Skin so soft," he continued in a soft
murmur, slowly moving his thumb up and down in circles, "What a
mysteriously dark and beautiful complexion you have, lovely Pandora."
�� The hairs at the back of her neck started to stand on
end, her stomach tightened. She felt movement within her stomach, a sickly sour
taste running up her throat. Putting up with his rude behavior was one thing.
Being sexually assaulted was another. Having enough of his intrusion, Pandora
snapped his hand away from her leg and quickly took a step back.
�� "Forgive me, Lord Faust," she tried to say
calmly, "But I've matters to attend to."
�� Faust slumped back against the couch with legs spread
outward. A cold look was written across his face. "Of course you do."
�� She knew this wouldn't be the last time. He had
already taken many of her siblings, regardless of Nostra's
own protests. All that was left were the younger ones, her cousin, and herself.
As sexually driven as he was, it wasn�t just about the sex. He was a man who
got a kick out of dominating a person's body and maybe even their soul. Pandora
left the ballroom without saying a word.

***

�� The event still stayed fresh in her mind even during
the training session later that morning. However, she set it aside long enough
to concentrate on the task Nostra assigned her with. In the basement of level
two, Pandora prepared to give a lecture to her siblings. The training room was
vast, filled with various obstacles designed to test agility and strength.
Swords, staffs, and other weaponry were lined up against the left wall. There
was a matted room at the back used for meditation or hand-to-hand combat.
Opposite of that was the shower room. In addition, several cameras and other
technological devices were set throughout the facility to monitor and record
the training sessions for future critiques.
�� At the center of the room, Pandora stood in front of
the line of trainees before her. She held a long metal staff with two long
blades on each end. Each of her siblings wore dark-violet elastic uniforms and
stood on a straight line. At the far left end was the nine-year-old boy.
His name was Locust.
Despite his youthful experience, his power was great. Using the powers of
darkness, he could call forth locust demons from the dark realm to possess the
minds of his opponents. He could also use those same demons to absorb his
victims� powers. Next to him was a fifteen-year-old boy with blazing red hair.
This one was called Cannon. He drained the energy of his opponent through
tentacles that extruded out from his chest. With that energy he created small
explosives. These explosives could act like barriers as well, preventing any
harm that might come his way. Third in line was Skin, a nineteen-year-old young
man with an incredible self-defense system. The demon who was part of his
genetic make-up was one with impenetrable body skin. Even the sword of Sparda couldn't break through it. Skin used his ability not
only to shield away attacks, but also used it offensively. By charging head on,
he could break through stone walls. The strength he possessed when this
protective skin was active was absolutely surreal. The forth sibling was Spin,
a lightening fast twenty-year-old girl. She could create tornado-like winds to
damage her opponents by spinning herself around. Using this same speed, she
could deliver multiple punches and kicks by the time her enemy blinked. She was
the fastest creature both on Earth and in the underworld. Finally, there was
Vast, a nineteen-year-old girl who could increase her weight ten-fold. By doing
so she could suck in anything or anyone, including any element-based attack.
Her insides were full of various acids. Meaning, anyone unfortunate enough to
get sucked in was considered already digested. Physical attacks were useless
since her added weight cushioned the damage as well as trapped her enemy within
the layers of her skin.
�� Pandora didn't have many unique abilities like her
siblings, but she did possess a combination of great speed and strength that
made her well balanced. In addition, since her DNA consisted of demons
possessing an elemental power, such as earth, fire, wind, and water, she wasn't
entirely powerless. Still, she preferred using combat power over demon power.
And it was her skills as a fighter that truly made her extraordinary and set
her apart. Even Nostra had a tough time keeping up with her
�� Each of Nostra's children
possessed his blood within. With his blood and that of the demon they were a
part of in their DNA, each was able to go into a hyperactive mode. Vergil introduced the word devil trigger into their
vocabulary, which they�ve used to describe this state of being.
�� "Today I will have you learn the essence of
teamwork," Pandora announced loudly, "While each of us possesses
great skill and power, in the end, our ability to compliment each other's
strengths and compensate for our weakness will be the determining factor in who
ultimately wins the battle. Therefore, I will have two pairs square off against
another pair." She looked at Locust and Spin. "I want you two against
Cannon and Vast."
�� The addressed children and teenagers stepped forward,
both pairs soon facing each other. Pandora nodded to both teams and the fight
begun. With hand signals, Locust summoned his demons into the field. Vast
immediately countered, increasing her weight size and becoming a bloated mass.
She began to suck up the demons. Upon seeing this, Spin spun herself around and
created a whirl wind tunnel. Even though the weapons within the room were
safely secured, they clacked irritably against the incredible winds. Pandora
had to stab her staff onto the ground to find support while Skin activated his
protective layer and grabbed a chunk of the metal ground. Locust's demons got
sucked up into Spin's funnel, safely sparing them from the fate that awaited
them in Vast's mouth. Even better, with her tornado
Spin could close the distance and send the demons flying after her opponents
without counter-attack. Cannon wasn't about to let that happen. Even if he
couldn't attack Spin head-on, he conceived a clever plot in taking at the fastest
creature on the planet. Large tentacles tore open the mid-section of his suit.
He dug them into the ground and sought the tornado's eye,
the only place Spin was vulnerable. The moment they popped up they latched onto
the girl and began to suck her energy. Cannon's ambush took Spin by surprise
and she stopped spinning, soon dropping to the floor as he drained enough
energy to leave her passed out. Cannon grinned,
tasting victory. Using the energy he derived from Spin, he created a series of
explosives and targeted Locust. He sent them flying away.
�� But they didn't hit Locust.
�� Instead, they hit Vast. Totally off guard, Vast was
unable to defend herself and winded up getting hit with wave after wave of
explosives that sent her flying to a wall. Her weight returned to normal and
like Spin, she was out for the countdown.
�� Cannon found himself unable to move, let alone able
to control any of his other actions. It was then that he noticed one of
Locust's demons attached itself to his leg. With Vast out and his own body now possessed,
their team lost the battle.
�� "Well done, Locust," Pandora said to the
nine-year-old boy who was all smiles now. She turned to Cannon. "You let
your overconfidence determine the outcome of this battle. You failed to realize
Locust in the corner summoning his demons again during your assault on Spin. Of
course, you're only partly to blame." She looked at Vast slumped against a
wall. "She should've been keeping a close eye out as well."
�� Pandora sent the remaining siblings still active to
the showers and gave the other two time to recover.
When all of them were stable and fully coherent, they met again at the center
of the floor. This time, though, Pandora let them relax by having them sit on
the ground in a circle. She looked over each of them and nodded.
�� "Let that session teach us the misfortunes of
overconfidence. Overall, however, I was pleased. Your abilities complemented
each other well." She looked at Spin. "When you saw Locust in trouble
you reacted the way I would've wanted you to. You saw his disadvantage and used
your own strength to compensate his weakness. Well done." She gazed at
everyone again. "That's the way it should be.�
�� Some of the children nodded to themselves.
�We all need to look
after each other,� Pandora continued, �because no one in this world will. We
have each other and that is all."
�� "What about the humans?" Locust asked
quietly, fidgeting with the zipper of his suit. "Don't they care about us?
We look just like them."
�� She hesitated before answering. Then
smiled. "Perhaps. But, to be quite honest,
the human race has always feared what they do not understand. It is also rare
of them to not exploit the power they see before them for their own gain. If
they knew about us, about our existence, the results of that wouldn't be to
your liking. In this world, we truly are alone. Though we may look like them,
we must remember who and what we really are. We will never be accepted among
their kind because of that."
�� "Then where do we belong?" asked Vast. She
was currently chewing on a health bar. "We're not human. But we're not
completely demon either. So where do we fit in?"
�� "I'm afraid that's a question only we can answer
for ourselves."
�� "I don't understand why any of you even cares
about being accepted by humans in the first place," griped Skin.
"They're nothing more than mindless puppets in love with carnage and
greed. If you asked me which species I wanted to belong to, I'd easily be a
demon. At least demons are honest."
�� "I agree," concurred
Spin. "I don't see why demons don't have the right to take back what was
once theirs. After all, there was darkness before light. How is
it fair to have darkness be pushed aside for such a selfish species as
this? Why deny the darkness if it exists everywhere?"
�� "I'm glad I'm not the only person who feels this
way," added Cannon, who was rubbing a finger against the floor.
"Lucifer's sense of balance is no more than an illusion to keep her
subjects in check. The ones really gaining anything from this so-called balance
are the humans. They get to run around here owning this place while the
underworld has to settle for scraps. Worse, they�re weak. How can a weak
species be given the right to rule this realm?"
�� Pandora listened to each of her siblings expressing
this common opinion. None of them regarded humans in high esteem, nor did they
sympathize with them. Pandora couldn't blame them. She felt the same way, as
did everyone else living in this mansion. Should Nostra's
wish become realized then it'd mean the end of a race that had dominated this
world for too long. She was about to say something until Locust spoke again.
The shy boy had been quiet after his comment, patiently listening to what his
siblings had to say on the matter.
�� "If the humans are as corrupt as you all
say," Locust finally spoke, his voice very low, "then... why did Sparda fight for them? Why did he deny his own kind and
fight Mundus? Why does our second cousin continue
fighting on their behalf? What did they find in humanity that was worth...
fighting for?"
�� An abrupt silence broke through the room. Even
Pandora was at a loss for words. The small child looked at them for an answer.
When seconds passed without one, he gazed down, slowly moving his zipper up and
down.
�� Despite the harsh sentiments and actual evidence
concerning how horrible humans could be, somehow this little one was willing to
see the other side of them. Pandora smiled, admittedly finding herself wondering the same thing. She admired Locust for
wanting to see something the others objected to seeing.
�� "I don't know. Maybe one day we'll find the
answers to that too."

***
Vie de Marli ***

�� The sky was pitched black over an industrial city
that lit with numerous lights. The moon glowed with a white aura. Cars honked
to each other and sirens were heard wailing in a distance. A single skyscraper
seemed to stand above it all. Tall. Glorious.
Intimidating. It seemed to run up for miles, nearly
kissing the sky itself. It consisted mostly of glass made windows. However, it
was also constructed with modern Gothic architecture in mind, which included
gargoyle statues and delicately-designed border trimmings. The gigantic skyscraper
was divided into three buildings that were connected by arches and catwalks.
Many limousines pulled
up to its entrance with extravagantly dressed men and women coming out of them.
Several wore military uniforms with sparkling medals and cords. They entered
through the glass-made double doors, passing by a black standing letter board that
posted: Mephistopheles Opening Conception, Honoring its CEO: Mr. Arthmael.
Lively music from a
live orchestra ensemble played within the guest�s ballroom. The room was brightly
lit with hundreds of finely attired people gathering and chatting among
themselves. Champaign bottles popped open. Busy servants made their rounds,
carrying trays full of appetizers and glasses of wine. There were white
balloons everywhere, their strings dangling carelessly. Tables were filled with
ice sculptures and various types of exotic food, which included a meter long
white, quadruple layered cake.
At the center of the
ballroom, several military officers were conversing with the honorary CEO of
Mephistopheles Incorporation. Though they tried to act customary, they found it
difficult not to observe the new CEO with curiosity and even� prejudice.
Mr. Arthmael easily stood apart from everyone in the ballroom.
From his face to the entire length of his body, he was covered in a black veil.
His concealment made it taxing for spectators to determine if he was really a
man at all considering his lean frame. Yet, the veil was necessary since Mr. Arthmael had mentioned to his guests he had Leopard�s disease.
The only visual description they had of the peculiar man was his massive
height. He easily stood six feet tall.
Beside the new CEO was
a young and formally dressed man in a dark purple suit that strongly contrasted
with his cream white skin. Everything from his neck to his hands was covered by
his gothic style attire, stringed together by a vivid and intricate rose
design. He appeared somewhere in his twenties with hair the color of silver. It
was neck-length but pulled back, conveying a spiky retro hairstyle appearance.
His eyes were something many of the military officers easily took note of. They
practically appeared like shards of ice.
The young gentleman
stood abnormally still. Had it not been for the subtle rise and fall of his
chest he�d have been easily mistaken for a statue. One arm was folded behind
him. The other was at his side where his hand held an exquisitely designed
katana blade that was currently sheathed in its casing.
�Mighty fine party ya got here, Mr. Arthmael,� a
marine officer commented, his southern accent thick. He drank some of his wine.
�Musta cost ya
a fortune. That cake, alone, musta been a
house down payment.�
The officers laughed.
�Anything for my
guests,� the CEO answered and bowed his head politely.
�I am excited to see Mephistopheles
has finally been opened,� mentioned a Japanese officer. �I eagerly await your
line of products.�
The officers nodded.
�Me too,� the southern
marine officer added, �Ah think it�s a nice switch. Don�t take this personally,
Mr. Arthmael, seeing as you both were once two peas
in the same pod an� all, but ah prefer conductin�
business with you over your former partner. Arius. God
rest his soul. Still, that fella was kinda� fruity. He laughed pretty girly too.�
There was another
round of laughter among the officers, which escalated when the marine General
made a screeching sound.
�I agree,� the
Japanese officer injected, �Mr. Arius was a bit
demanding. He�ll be missed, however. His untimely death three years ago was
quite a shock.�
�Indeed, Arius was a colorful man,� Mr. Arthmael
injected with a small chuckle of his own. �There were many qualities he
possessed that one may have found��
�Annoying?� the
General completed his sentence with a grin.
�Challenging,�
the CEO chose instead.
The men nodded and
guffawed.
�Still, his spirit
will be kept alive in our company,� Mr. Arthmael
continued.
�Yeah, it�s good to
see you chose to reinvent Uroboros Incorporation,� a
third officer said. �The new name has a nice ring to it.�
�Mephisto-�
the southern marine started, �Mephistoph� Mephistophe�� He stopped and frowned. �Ah
hell, sorry, friend. I couldn�t say that name even if my life depended
on it.�
The men laughed and
continued their conversation with the CEO. The only person not engaged in it
was the man standing beside Mr. Arthmael. He remained
silent and still throughout the whole thing.
The young man�s
attentions were drawn to the guests. He carefully studied them like a hawk. Ice
blue eyes roamed the ballroom searching for anyone out of the ordinary. His probing
finally stopped and settled onto a woman directly across him.
Wearing a rose pink
gown with a leg split, she stood like a pillar. The woman had vibrant red hair.
Its full volume rested over her shoulders, part of it flipped over to one side
of her face. The skin tone of the woman was a slight tanned brown color, which
suggested she was a native here in the island of Vie de Marli.
She seemed to observe him with curiosity, as if she recognized him. Her visible
hazel eye stared intensely at him.
The young man sniffed
the air. His hand over his katana blade tightened slightly. Before he advanced
a step forward, one of the officers addressed him.
�What a unique katana
blade you possess,� the Japanese officer said. �It is quite a marvelous weapon,
unlike anything I�ve seen before.�
�Not as good as mah own,� the marine soldier inserted with a proud grin. He
tapped on the sword hung over his hip. �Now this is what ya call a blade. It�s the type o� steel that can cut
through rock. None of this rice paper crap.�
The Japanese officer
rolled his eyes while the young man said nothing. Mr. Arthmael�s
right-hand man focused his attention back to the woman, only to find her gone.
His eyes narrowed a bit.
�What say we have
ourselves a showdown,� the marine officer joked. �First guy to blink gets a
hundred bucks and one of those pretty ice statues.�
The young man looked
at him as if he were an insect that needed to be squashed. Mr. Arthmael�s nephew was the type of man everyone felt on edge
around. Any time he walked into a room people froze. He may have appeared young
to many people, but his eyes revealed a man way beyond his years, containing a
cruel and bitter nature. Women who admired his beauty and elegance quickly
found themselves downright afraid of him. Likewise, men curious of his
character found the man too cold and silent to converse with. It was not
uncommon for him to be left alone. It took an ignorant or brave person to tempt
fate by making small talk with Arthmael�s
nephew.�
The young man took a
step toward the General. Then, without warning, something hissed and flashed
brightly. The General had no idea what just happened. He could only chuckle at
the odd occurrence. However, when he tried to take a sip of his wine the glass
split into two. The upper part slanted downwards before shattering onto the
floor.
�I believe you
blinked, sir,� the young man sneered, his fierce blue eyes were fixed on the
older man�s pair.
The officers were
stunned, switching their focus between the broken glass and the man holding the
katana. They finally figured out what just happened but had to second guess
themselves. Arthmael�s nephew speed was too
incredible that all they saw was a flash of light. With a trembling hand, the
General took out a hundred dollar bill. However, the young man stood there.
Silently watching him like a predator.
�Forgive my nephew,�
the CEO inserted calmly. �He can be a troubling child.�
Mr. Arthmael turned to the young man. His nephew took a step
away from the General and bowed his head as a way of apology.
�Heh,
no problem there, son,� the General said with a slight stutter, putting the
bill away. �Kids will be kids, right? Got quite a talent there� Heh��
The young man stood
erect again. Then moved back to his uncle�s side without a
word. A servant arrived shortly to clean up the mess on the floor.
�It pleases me to hear
how you all are eager to conduct business with us again,� Mr. Arthmael said, dismissing the scene. �In fact, we are
already assembling a new product that�s sure to arouse your attention.�
The officers gazed at
Mr. Arthmael with surprised looks.
�Granted, we are still
conducting tests on it,� he added shortly, �They appear promising, however. By early
next week I shall invite you all to observe our latest product firsthand.�
Despite feeling
awkward by the cloaked man and his nephew, each officer seemed pleased to hear the
news. All of them, including the General who managed to grab another glass of
wine, raised a toast to him and nodded to the CEO.
�To a prosperous
future,� Mr. Arthmael said.
Each man drank from
their glasses. Mr. Arthmael drank his through his
veil. Just as they finished their drink, however, alarms set off and the
building flashed red.
The orchestra stopped
and the crowd murmured nervously. The sirens echoed across the complex. One of
the hosts addressed the guests, telling them to remain calm.
Mr. Arthmael appeared relaxed while his nephew stood close to
him. Meanwhile, three men dressed in suits came running from the ballroom�s
entrance toward the CEO�s direction.
�Mr. Arthmael,� one of them said, �We have an intruder. In the upper levels.�
The CEO was quiet for
awhile. Finally, he said, �Very well. Seal off those areas and deploy the
Birds. Escort my guests out of the complex immediately and kill the alarms.�
They nodded. Two ran
out of the ballroom issuing orders through their hidden microphones while the
third approached the host currently addressing the crowd. As she now instructed
the people out of the ballroom, the CEO�s nephew turned to him.
�I have my suspicions
on who it may be, uncle,� he said. �I wish to confirm
it.�
�Go then, Vergil,� the veiled man replied softly, �If possible, bring
the intruder to me.�
The young man nodded
and walked out of the ballroom.

***

Despite people rushing
past him, Vergil maintained his poise. Moving with
patience and sniffing the air from time to time. While the guests headed toward
the reception area to exit the building he headed down a corridor that led to a
series of elevators. The building�s lockdown mode forced him to override the
system by scanning in his handprint on a panel nearby. One of them whooshed
open. Entering that elevator, he pushed a button and patiently waited for the
doors to close. When they opened again the howls of wind was all he heard.
Vergil stepped onto the roof of the skyscraper, which
contained a large heliport pad and a glorious view of the city. It was
completely empty and served as a prime escape point for their intruder. All
levels were cut off now, including the first floor. This was the only way out.
Should the intruder manage to evade the Birds she would not escape. Not with
him here.
He stood there in
silence, waiting and watching the city displayed before him. It sparkled and
radiated with life. Cars honked while the sirens of ambulances wailed on and
off again. Airplanes soared above, their dim lights twinkling in night sky.
There was the aroma of clouds consuming the air, anticipating rain soon.
Meanwhile, the night sky seemed to protect over it all, coveting it like a
mother hen.
Vergil found the nightlife of the island dreadfully boring
and meaningless. Where others saw freedom and individuality, Vergil saw only routine and conformity. To him, the people
were drones who seemed incapable of individual thought. They were driven only
by numbers. Numbers in the bank account. Numbers in an election toll. Number of calorie intake. Number of viewers tuning in. Number of
wins and losses. Numbers in a test score. Even numbers
for identification purposes. Everything� based off numbers.� Were a great flood and harmful plague to
sweep through this land he doubted the people would act any different. The
number of deaths would undoubtedly equal the number of news coverage. Yet, it
would not equal the number of dollars needed to fix the damage. In the human world,
Vergil realized numbers could be manipulated to the
point where one plus one didn�t always equal two. The sum of one man�s vote
sometimes equaled the sum of a million people�s vote.
Another plane flew by
and Vergil continued gazing at the city, feeling a
moment of d�j� vu. He�d seen something like this before. In a
different place. In a different time. He passed
it off as a dream but the feeling wouldn�t let go of him. Again and again it
nagged him, his mind yearning to draw a connection and make a revelation but it
always came short.
�Well, doesn�t it
excite you?� a man�s voice asked. Aged. Driven.
Vergil blinked and quickly turned around, hand on sword. But
there was no one here. He looked again, at first thinking it might have been the
intruder. But still� nothing. Not a ghost. Not a
scent. Nothing but the howling of the wind and city below that kept him
company.
That voice though� It
sounded familiar. Didn�t it? But where? Where did he
hear it? When?
�� The Temen-ni-gru has
been revived,� the voice continued, oblivious to his questions. �The Great One who once ruled this Earth as the medium between
the human world, and the Demon world. Isn�t it a magnificent
view?�
�� The voice trailed off and he couldn�t hear the rest. Vergil lowered his gaze.
�� It was another one. Another memory.
Who it belonged to he was unsure of. There were so many memories in his head
that he had no idea which belonged to him. Some of the memories appeared to him,
as if occurring right before his own eyes. Other times, often in fact, he could
only hear the whispers and echoes of them. But Temen-ni-gru�
now, why did that sound so familiar to him?
His time at the
Netherworld had made his resurrection a mixed blessing. He was alive again,
yet, incomplete. His mind was a collage of how many demons� memories. Even the
body he inhabited was not truly his. He truly felt like a strange in his own
body.
His only source of
information and guidance was Nostra. He regarded that man as more than his
uncle and savior. He was his father. His mentor. His true guardian. Yet, he felt Nostra was not being totally
forward with him. Any time he inquired information regarding his biological
father or his past, his uncle remained mute on the matter. Why? Did something
about his past bother him?
It wasn�t just Nostra
who kept his silence. The others as well. There was an
unspoken secret among them all, a secret that threatened to break the calamity
within the household if revealed.
He gazed at the city
again, hoping the voice would emerge from his subconscious again. But it didn�t
happen. No other voice came.
The whirl of an
elevator opening, however, interrupted his thoughts. Vergil
turned to its sound and found a familiar figure there.
The red-headed woman
slowly approached him, holding tiny daggers in both hands. It was odd, he
thought. For a woman being chased by their security and the Birds, she didn�t
appear to be anxious enough to be making a haste escape.
�Who are you?� Vergil demanded.
The woman looked at
him again, her eyes wide as she drew closer to him.
�Very well, woman, remain
silent, even as you embrace death.� He unsheathed his weapon and swiped
straight for her head.
The female intruder
quickly blocked the blade with both daggers. She back-flipped and threw a
dagger toward his chest. Vergil easily cut the dagger
in half with one sword stroke. Within a glimpse, he spun on his heels and
reflected the dagger�s remnants back at her. The woman screamed when the sharp
objects made contact. Red streaks appeared on both her cheeks. Catching her off
guard, Vergil flew toward her, spinning in the air
and preparing to slash down. She rolled backwards in the ground and threw
several more daggers hidden in her dress. Each one he blocked. The red head got
back on her feet and kept the last two daggers to defend herself.
Landing back on ground, Vergil swiped at the woman.
Metal clanged against metal as they exchanged blows in a wild and deadly dance.
The woman was
certainly skilled and acrobatic. She double jumped into the air to evade a
lethal attack to the head. Then kissed the ground and swept the floor with a
long leg, managing to lift Vergil off his feet. He
fell onto the concrete ground with a heavy thud. Using this slight advantage,
she drove one of her daggers straight into his sword�s hand. He grunted, dropping
his sword. Just as victory was within her grasp, however, Vergil
used the impaled hand to swipe at her ankle. A gush of blood followed. Soon
removing the dagger, he shot it straight into her neck.
The woman gasped and
dropped her other dagger, stumbling backwards as blood bloomed from its fresh
wound. The beautiful gown of rose pink soon became drenched with streaks of
crimson red ooze. Vergil hastily retrieved his sword
and dove right at her, his sword plunging straight into her heart.
The swordsman appeared
as surprised as she was when it didn�t penetrate. Something had blocked it.
Behind them, the elevator opened and several figures approached, each wearing a
black endoskeleton suit. Their face concealed by gas-like masks.
The woman removed the
dagger from her throat and stabbed Vergil�s left eye
with it, quickly kicking him off of her. Vergil
grunted while on the ground, pressing his injured eye with a hand. With his
remaining good eye he stared at the woman. He noticed something hanging around
her bloody neck. It was a necklace, a small coin dangling from it.
�You� you look just
like him�� the woman gurgled out, her neck wound already healing. �You look
just like Dante.�
Vergil stood still.
Dante�?
The endoskeleton
figures approached fast, their movements too smooth and agile to be considered
human. The woman ran the other way, heading toward the edge of the roof. Vergil found himself too paralyzed to move. The name she
just mentioned held a lot of weight over his heart.
The soldiers flew past
him, so fast that his hair and coat shifted with the breeze of their speed. He
could only watch in silence as the mysterious woman jumped off the roof and
disappeared. A second later, a large surge of electricity enriched the area and
a white-winged creature flew straight up, vanishing into the clouds of the
night sky. White feathers stained with blood scattered everywhere in its wake.
Vergil slowly rose to his feet. He went to the edge of the
roof where the endoskeleton soldiers stood still. Several white feathers flew
around him. He snatched one from the air and looked at the bloodstained feather
curiously.
�Dante�?� he whispered
to himself.
- 7
- 8
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Devil May Cry: Remnants