//------------------------------//
// Part 1 - Chapter 18: Raining Blood 
// Story: Pony May Cry: Brotherhood is Magic 
// by Joey JoJo 
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Luna’s moon was looming high in the star speckled, night sky, indicating that several hours had passed since Vergil’s departure. The light from the waxing gibbous was barely able to break through the thick layer of the forests’ overgrowth, leaving only a few specks of moonlight shining through the trees. What Vergil had hoped to be nothing more than a walk in woods was suddenly becoming a tedious trek; as he had made multiple stops to check the rather vague map in the geography book, hoping to find some sort of landmark or possible indication that the path he was taking would lead him to his desired destination. Coming up to a small clearing in the woods, the devil pony noticed the moon’s brilliant radiance shining through, practically illuminating the opening in the woods. He took the time to trot towards the center where he pulled out the book once again to confirm his whereabouts. Unfortunately, after several minutes of flipping through multiple maps it appeared that the forest might have been as treacherous as Fluttershy had warned. A good portion of the map was nothing more than the thick of the Everfree Forest that eventually led to the old Canterlot Castle towards the edge of the woods. Any normal traveler would consider themselves lost. 

However, Vergil was observant enough to take a good look at the compass that marked the lower right hand corner of the page of the map. He looked up towards the position of the moon. If his assumption was correct, then the moon and sun in Equestria would rise and set in the same cardinal directions as they would in his world, despite the fact that they were controlled by two alicorn goddesses. After all, it was their job to keep a certain order of the land. Vergil quickly remembered back to which way the sun had set during his trek through the Everfree and was able to successfully indicate which way was west from his given position. Checking back to the map, he noted that the ruins of the old Canterlot castle were southeast of the direction from where Fluttershy’s cottage was located. A small smirk crept onto Vergil’s face, almost as if he were congratulating himself on his quick wit in solving this minor location problem before he continued on into the forest in the southeast direction from which he started; his pace quickening as he neared his goal. 

Throughout the dismal forest, Vergil quietly kept his pace. The night only seemed to grow darker; the moon was practically invisible at this point as the forest only thickened the more inward he traveled. What bit of light could be found along the dark path were the luminescent eyes that belonged to the many on looking creatures of the night. Their cries echoed throughout the darkness, almost as if they were coming from everywhere at once.  Vergil, however took little notice as ventures such as this were mere child’s play compared to the hell bound halls and ghastly catacombs he had navigated during his time on earth. It would take a lot more than a dark area and unseen creatures to shake the half-demon’s composure. That is until Vergil heard a series of low and menacing growls approaching closer from behind. He casually turned his head to see that only a few meters behind him, were the all too familiar figures of the beasts that had dared to greet him upon his arrival to this strange world. The shadowy, wooden husks of the Timberwolves edged closer towards him, making their presence known to the devil pony. Upon further inspection Vergil noticed that these wolves were significantly larger than the ones who had attacked him before; possibly due to the fact they may have adapted to suit the more harsh conditions of the inner forest where no doubt, a plethora of predators lied. 

As he looked on at his approaching assailants, Vergil quickly analyzed from every which way the wolves were coming. From what he could see, there seemed to be at least six making their way towards him directly. However, they were animals with a pack mentality, so it was safe to assume there would be a few who kept out of sight, ready to attack his blind spots should they fail to ambush him. Before Vergil could assess the situation any further, one of the wolves leaped out at him, teeth at the ready to dig into his flesh. Unsurprised by the brazen act, Vergil’s cutie mark lit up as his hooves were engulfed in a flash of light to reveal his gauntlets and greaves known as Beowulf. Before the wolf could get any closer Vergil turned and bucked the flying beast out of the air. The tremendous force from the impact completely shattered the top half of its body, sending the carcass flying back towards its comrades. 

Looking down at the remains of their fallen friend, the wolves let out a shrill howl before charging all at once. Vergil quickly stood up on his back legs, readying himself into his signature hand to hand combat stance. In an instant the five wolves split into three different directions. Two flanked off to the left and right respectively while one charged down the middle in an attempt to overwhelm the grey pelted pony with their speed and numbers. Two of the wolves on Vergil’s left were the first to catch his eye as they both lunged for him; one going for his upper body while the other went for his back legs. Vergil's response time was impeccable as he swung his foreleg to the side and crushed one of the wolves’ heads completely before swinging his body into a ninety degree turn away from the wolf diving at his legs. As expected, the beast came a few inches short before sliding headfirst on the ground. In confusion the creature looked up, only to be met with a crushing blow as Vergil punched his right foreleg straight into the ground; his hoof smashing through the wolfs’ body before leaving a small crack in the ground below. 

Taking their opportunity to attack, the other two wolves lunged at Vergil while the final one continued to charge forward. With swift diligence, Vergil spun on his back leg and delivered a devastating roundhouse kick that blew through both wolves, leaving nothing but the now lifeless husks of wood soaring into the trees; shattering upon impact. This brutal act, however, did not deter the final wolf as he leaped to the side of Vergil, edging towards his blind spot. 

“I have neither the time nor the patience to continually waste such effort on a few mindless mutts.” Vergil scoffed as he slowly circled around to keep the wolf at bay. “How about you make like a good mongrel let me put you out of your misery?”

Almost as if the wolf could understand Vergil, it snarled ferociously at his taunting as it reeled back, ready to continue its lone assault. Just then, a rustling came from the bushes  behind Vergil. Before he could look over his shoulder, another large timberwolf flew out of the foliage, straight towards Vergil’s throat. With barely any time to react, Vergil swiftly ducked just beneath the wolf. As the beast flew above his head, Vergil swung his foreleg back and brought his hoof upwards into a shimmering uppercut that split the assailant in two. The beast let out a weakened yelp as it fell to its death at the feet of his fellow timberwolf. The lone timberwolf remaining looked towards Vergil with a menacing glare, but instead of attacking blindly, the angered leader tilted its head back to deliver an almost mournful howl that echoed throughout the night sky. 

Instantly recognizing this tactic, Vergil came to the conclusion that his suspicions were correct in that there were plenty of other timberwolves at the ready; similar to the most recent one to come out of hiding. In a matter of seconds, the blackened forest practically lit up with the phosphorescent yellow glow of oncoming timberwolves from all sides. The creatures crept closer, backing up the wolf who had initiated the cry for help. Having grown more and more irritated by the brazen yet foolish attempts at his life, Vergil had made up his mind that now was neither the time nor the place for him to continue on. These wolves, while nothing compared to him, were obviously incorporating their superior numbers and their environment to their advantage. Having to deal with them all in such a closed off area would take too long. Looking over his shoulder off into the distance, Vergil was able to recognize the direction in which he was originally heading. For at the edge of the forest, just within a few hundred feet, Vergil could see an opening through the trees that led straight towards an old bridge. 

Vergil then turned his back towards his multiple foes, now lowering himself onto all fours. “Come and get me,” he taunted before speeding off towards the end of the woods, his legs still encased in the bright, silver gauntlets and greaves he was now using to increase his speed. The timberwolves followed immediately without a moment’s notice as dozens of the horrid creatures began to trail after Vergil, following the light shimming off his legs. Not once did Vergil’s pace falter as he began to weave through the low hanging branches and bound almost effortlessly over the fallen trunks of decrepit trees. Still, despite his agility and speed, there were still many wolves that were able to keep up with the half-demon, who was just within a few meters from the opening. Desperately, one of the wolves tried for his back legs as it lowered its head in hopes to clamp his jaws on the meat of Vergil’s thigh. Those hopes were soon dashed as Vergil quickly lifted both of his back legs to dodge the wooden wolfs bite before stomping down on its head. He was soon able to bound even further ahead at greater speeds thanks to the force of the stomp he used from his back legs to propel himself forward. Within seconds, Vergil had dashed into the clearing and skidded to an abrupt halt right in front of the bridge that led to the ruined Canterlot Castle. He looked past the gaping canyon whose only means of crossing was a worn and rickety bridge that probably could only hold so much weight before it would collapse entirely. 

Hearing the snarls and barks of his pursuers, Vergil casually turned back towards the woods from whence he came to be met with the sight of many hungry timberwolves. “I believe this is where we part ways,” Vergil announced to the pack. Their only response was to move in closer, hoping to corner him towards the cliff next to the bridge. Having had just about enough of the persistent beasts, Vergil stood up on his back legs and held out his right foreleg. In a flash, his amulet cutie mark began to glow as a large broadsword formed in Vergil’s outstretched hoof. The blade that manifested was Sparda’s infamous weapon known as Force Edge: the very same sword he had once sealed away along with his demonic powers at the edge of the demon realm. 





Sensing that the grey-pelted pony was ready to fight to the bitter end, a number of wolves charged towards Vergil, their appetites eagerly waiting to be sated. With little to no effort, Vergil swung the blade with just one hoof and had cut down four wolves in a single swipe. It was only then that the others, who were at the back of the pack, began to question the group’s efforts. This pony was unlike any prey they had ever encountered and was disposing of them one by one. However, Vergil began to notice the wolves backing away and took their moment of weakness to leap into action. Jumping forward, Vergil’s gauntlets and greaves began to shine once again in such brilliant radiance. He then flipped forward with such speed that he had began to spin like a buzz-saw, building up a tremendous amount of momentum and force; also known as Vergil’s appropriately titled Lunar Phase technique. The wolves looked on helplessly in fear as Vergil finally brought his back leg down onto one of their comrades in an earth shattering blow. The crushed wolf burst into splinters as the back of Vergil’s leg continued to drive into the ground, leaving a humongous crater while a shockwave burst from the impact that sent the surrounding timberwolves flying back towards the woods. The rest of the pack could only look on in confusion and fright as Vergil stood upright in the center of the crater; a menacing glare focused solely on the timberwolves. 

Without hesitation, the leaders of the pack tilted their heads back and unleashed a loud and defeated howl, signaling to the rest of their pack to retreat. The wolves obeyed without deterring in the slightest as the leaders backed away slowly to cover their escape. Their frightened eyes still fixated on the half-demon. Vergil merely scoffed after the last of the wolves had escaped. “While not the brightest bunch, they certainly were smart enough not to continue a losing battle,” he muttered as both Force Edge and Beowulf deteriorated from his body in a faint, glistening light. He then turned his attention back towards the bridge that led to the ruined Canterlot castle. Still though, I’ve wasted far too much time navigating that accursed forest. It shouldn’t be much longer. 

With a cautious step, Vergil proceeded to lightly tread along the ragged, wooden bridge. He was in no mood for any more trivial obstacles and took his time with each creaking step. Though the bridge seemed to hold his weight just fine, it seemed as though doubts had began to pester Vergil’s mind. But doubts of what, exactly? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t simply leap to safety given his skill, nor was he concerned in the slightest of height at which he dangled. No, this doubt was something more. It was something that had festered at the back of his mind ever since he learned of this area known as Tartarus. Something that began to torment him relentlessly as the gravity of his and Dante’s situation truly sank in: Their altered forms, their repressed devil powers, their fate being put in the hooves of two ruling princesses whom he could describe as nothing short of false idols and incompetent rulers. It was all too much for Vergil to believe, and the very thought that his current form and this world were all real continued to churn his stomach in absolute disgust. 

Shaking his head, Vergil quickly dismissed such thoughts, having made it across the bridge and standing before the ruins of the old Canterlot Castle. Just beyond these ruins and Tartarus will be within reach, he thought as he made his way through the dilapidated doorway and entered into the vine-riddled and dusty halls. The gloomy interior was only complimented by the cracked and crumbling pillars along with the many shattered windows that flooded the main chamber with pale moonlight. Having reached what appeared to be the main chamber, Vergil took quick notice of a large centerpiece, topped with a moss-covered stone orb that was surrounded by six empty pedestals. I take it, THIS is the place where the Elements of Harmony were rediscovered no doubt, Vergil pondered, remembering Twilight’s tale of how she and her friends came to hold such power. A kind of power that meant absolutely nothing to the devil pony so long as it was being used to maintain something as trivial as harmony. Power used out of such selflessness is only power wasted. He scoffed as he made his way around the room, discovering it to be nothing more than a holding chamber for the elements. He then looked out through one of the broken windows to see a staircase of sorts leading up towards a tower. Taking the initiative, Vergil leapt through the window and landed about half way up on the staircase. He quickly trotted upwards through the door, hoping to navigate past these crumbled confines. After having made his way up through a spiral staircase, he had reached the top of the tower and what appeared to be a throne room. A throne room where the two sisters must have ruled as equals in the past. 

Looking on, Vergil saw a large fractured window behind the pedestal on which the thrones sat. Walking forward, he looked outside the window to be met with a reassuring sight. At this elevation and height, Vergil could see just where the Everfree Forest ended and where the path towards the Badlands began, stretching out into what seemed to be a desert-like wasteland, as he had figured. Wasting no time, he turned towards the door to take his leave, walking over the pedestal where the thrones sat, only for his hooves to leave a curious if not hallow series of clops atop the stone pedestal. Looking down, Vergil lightly tapped his forehoof against the marble-like structure, testing its acoustics. As he suspected, his taps left a low echo below him. In a matter of moments, his legs were encased in a white light as his silver gauntlets and greaves took shape. Lifting both front legs above his head, he then slammed them down onto the ground with a resounding blow that chipped away a chunk of the stone pedestal, and practically shook the entire room in the process. After the dust had settled, Vergil looked down to observe the hole he had made, only to discover that beneath the thrones of the two sisters was a set of stairs leading down into a secret passage of sorts. 

Normally Vergil wouldn’t bother wish such trivial discoveries, seeing how his destination was within sight and there was nothing left obstructing his path. However, he was rather curious as to what these two goddesses could possibly want to hide within their own kingdom. The thought brought a grin to Vergil’s face as he proceeded downwards into the darkness beneath the castle’s throne room. After descending a few stories, judging by distance, Vergil had finally come to the bottom of the stairs and was met with a pitch black room; the only visibility he could muster were his eyes that had already adjusted to the darkness and the sliver of moonlight that managed to reach down the stairway. Summoning Beowulf from his arsenal, yet again, the devil pony had managed to illuminate most of the area surrounding him by using the glow from his gauntlets and greaves. Upon further inspection, the room appeared to be a lot smaller than Vergil figured and, if anything, seemed more like a shrine from what he could make out. As he walked farther ahead, he had come to the end of the room where three empty pedestals sat. The impressions at the top of each pedestal indicated they once held some type of structure, most likely a statue, for display, but were now devoid of such contents. On the front of each pedestal, there appeared to be large scratches across the stone plaques, where one would usually etch a name for the display. Unfortunately they were all completely illegible as the gash on each one covered the entire plaque, leaving no trace of any letters. Curious, Vergil then turned his attention to what appeared to be a large ancient glyph hanging on the wall in front of the three carefully placed pedestals. Walking over, he stood on his hind legs as he reached the bottom of the stone tablet to hold up one of his forehooves so that he could illuminate the glyph.

Vergil was met with quite a sight as the glow from his gauntlet had managed to light up the entire tablet. The gigantic glyph was littered with numerous illegible markings, possibly an older language that was abandoned around the same time the castle was. None of which seemed to be covered in any of the few history books Vergil had read up on Equestria. Furthermore, there was one particular sight that managed to pique his interest. At the very bottom center of the stone tablet, there seemed to be a carving of a large set of doors that held back behind them what Vergil could only make out as ghosts or some sort of spirits. No doubt this doorway represented Tartarus, or at least what Vergil could assume was Tartarus. Atop this doorway stood three daunting figures; almost like guardians. From what Vergil could depict, the figures resembled a mare with flowers and other plant life surrounding her figure, a large bipedal bird-like creature that seemed to control gusts of wind around him, as shown from the tornado shaped carvings, and a massive bipedal lion whose entire body appeared to be engulfed in flames. All three of these beings stood before the gates of Tartarus; positioned directly beneath carvings of the sun and the moon entwined as one. Thinking back to his studies at Twilight’s library, Vergil had never once come across any legend or story pertaining to the scene at which he was now witnessing. For once, Vergil could admit that what he was seeing was a bit unnerving. Why was this down here? Why were there no records of this anywhere in the library? Was this some sort of legend only known to the princesses? And why would they keep such an artifact buried among the ruins of their previous kingdom? These questions stewed in Vergil’s mind only to be shaken away by the realization that this pointless artifact was not what he had set out to find. Bah, I haven’t the time to play archaeologist, He thought as he turned away from the glyph, no longer wishing to humor the questions he had raised for himself. This world’s affairs are none of my concern. Whatever reason those two had for keeping this thing here, I’m sure the answer wouldn’t interest me in the least.

Vergil calmly departed from the underground lair and emerged from the secret staircase. Looking out the window behind the throne once more, he was able to catch a clear view of the path that he must take if he wanted to get to Tartarus. In a moment’s notice, Vergil leapt through the already broken and mangled window frame, shattering what few bits of glass that obstructed his path as he proceeded to plummet eight stories down. The ground was approaching fast, but with perfect reflexes, he had managed to flip himself forward before landing on his back two legs, sticking his landing at the bottom of the tower. Suddenly the glass he had shattered had begun to fall all around the devil pony without so much as even a shard grazing him. Once the rubble had finished it plunge to the earth, Vergil briskly brushed his shoulders off before continuing towards the end of the Everfree Forest on all fours. However, his stomach had other plans. After only a few steps, a low growl sounded and a slight pain came from his gut. Turns out Vergil hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, and it was apparent that this equine body of his was not without limits. With a sigh, he looked around until he caught sight of a log lying about on the outskirts of the castle’s perimeter. Silently, he made his way over to the hallowed out trunk and removed his saddlebag before seating himself atop the log. Opening up one of the pockets on the saddlebag, he removed the neatly wrapped lunch Fluttershy had packed him for the trip. 

No need traveling on an empty stomach after all. Her words came to mind as he unwrapped the daisy decorated cloth to unveil three delicious looking cucumber sandwiches along with a small set of celery sticks, just as she had said. I swear that girl’s kindness knows no bounds. Vergil thought as he took a large bite out of one of the sandwiches, only to finish it a few seconds later after two more bites. Honestly, I never expected to make allies with someone so giving, but I’m not one to argue. After all, she’s done nothing but aid me during my time here. Finishing his second sandwich, he reached for a celery stalk. Perhaps, I should properly thank her once this is all said and done. Grabbing hold of his third and final sandwich, Vergil’s thoughts began to linger once more as the events that were taking place had begun to sink in once again. This strange world he and Dante were thrown into by a mere accident, this bizarre adventure he was embarking on; all sparked from having just been liberated from the bleak abyss of Hell only days before. Looking up to the night sky, Vergil’s mind had begun to trace back to that fateful day. The day he could once again grasp at his father’s legacy. 









Within the farthest reaches of Hell, past the now closed gateway between the human and demon world; an endless lake of blood lay at the bottom of the blackened abyss. The clashing of metal and slicing of flesh could be heard ringing throughout the darkened abyss, as one by one, dozens of bloodthirsty demons had risen up before the might of one lone half-demon. The demons who dared to challenge this son of Sparda were some of Hell’s most fierce and powerful entities. They were known as Abyss. They were relentless, malevolent demons of the highest order, capable of manifesting through blood. Their torsos, white like snow, but their limbs, heads, horns and spines revealed a deep crimson which spread over their body almost like blood vessels. In their hands they wielded large pitchforks and scythes that were ignited by the fires of the demon world, and glowed just like the fiery, murderous gaze in their eyes. Their legacy was as bloody as their manifestations; renowned for slaying any and all warriors that suffered the misfortune of ending up Hell.








Well, all except for one. Vergil, the son of Sparda, was more than a match for the foul beasts that had surrounded him. Leaping into the air, one demon swung its scythe to send a blazing ball of fire rocketing towards Vergil. With a quick spin to the right, Vergil had not only dodged the projectile, but in turn, had tripped up another Abyss by sweep kicking its legs from under it, flipping the creature into the air before unsheathing Yamato in one swift move to slice the flailing demon in half. The previous airborne demon, taking this opportunity, came falling down full force, ready to hack away at its half-demon target. Before it could so much as bring it’s scythe downwards, Vergil was able to flip his sword with just the flick of his wrist and caught the curve of the falling scythe with the blade of Yamato. Using the force of the attack, Vergil was able to redirect and steer the demons weapon into the ground. Turning his wrist once more, he sliced through the demon in one fluid motion, sending its upper body flying back from its waist. Vergil then stood upright and sheathed Yamato back into its scabbard; spurts of blood now spraying forth from the carcasses of his fallen enemies as soon as he had finished. After seeing the display of swordsmanship, the other Abyss wasted no time to attack all at once, no longer waiting to find an opening. The beasts rushed Vergil from all sides, yet he remained perfectly still, his eyes quickly shifting to and fro, waiting for the perfect moment. With a forceful roar, an Abyss jabbed its pitchfork straight for Vergil’s chest. In an instant, Vergil caught the attack by lifting his sheath right between two of the prongs of the demon’s weapon. Quickly he twisted the pitchfork from devil’s grasp, causing it to stumble forward as Vergil caught hold of the stolen weapon. Before the demon could even so much as react, Vergil had shoved the pronged staff straight into its skull sending a gush of blood shooting out from where its face once belonged. Two other Abyss then moved in from behind; one attacking from overhead while the other swung for Vergil’s midsection. Without even turning around, Vergil twirled Yamato over his shoulder and blocked the overhead attack with his sheath before back flipping directly over the demon behind him to dodge the oncoming horizontal slash. Landing directly behind them, Vergil bent at the knees as he readied his blade, his left hand holding the scabbard while his right gripped the handle of his blade. Before the two demons could even turn around, Vergil had already unsheathed Yamato and sliced through both of them in just one swing. The two demon’s torsos then proceeded to slide off the rest of their bodies as blood came spurting out from the perfectly clean, diagonal cuts.

Still unfazed by the might of the half-demon, more and more Abyss continued to press onward in their assault against Vergil, rising from lake to put down the rebellious warrior. With a brisk step to the side, Vergil had managed to dodge an incoming scythe from an Abyss, just in time to swat the demon away with the scabbard of Yamato. Three more demons charged forward, their weapons held high and at the ready to strike Vergil. Quickly, stepping between two of the demons, Vergil managed to slip between their scythes. Having dodged the initial assault, Vergil managed to put himself into the center of the crowd of demons that now had him surrounded; right where he wanted to be. Without even looking, Vergil ducked an oncoming swing from behind. He then rammed his scabbard into the chest of the demon directly behind him, causing the beast to stagger as Vergil removed Yamato with one lightning fast swing that had cut through five oncoming Abyss; sending the demons toppling into a fountain of blood and severed limbs. With such grace, he instantly spun around and decapitated the stunned Abyss mid-turn, causing blood to spew forth from its neck. More and more, the demons persisted as one swung its scythe at an angle not even Vergil could dodge. Not wasting a moment’s time, Vergil swung downwards with such might that he not only stopped the attack, but had cut through both the demon and its weapon. Vergil then kicked the demon’s severed body into one of its oncoming comrades, throwing it off guard as the carcass of its ally impeded its attack. Taking this moment to reset his self, Vergil placed Yamato back into its scabbard, took a deep breath, and readied himself into his signature stance. His knees were fully bent as he leaned forward at the ready; his left hand holding onto his swords’ holster while his right was gripped firmly around the hilt of his blade.  Before he made his move, Vergil had silently counted off the number of demons that lay before him while taking note of the many that were closing in behind him. 

No longer wishing to hold back, Vergil leaned further forward before taking off into a charge aimed directly at the oncoming Abyss. After his first step, he vanished into a blue streak that ripped through the countless demons. In a flash, a flurry of slashes and cuts scattered and trailed throughout the oncoming crowd of demons before Vergil finally reappeared directly behind the now stunned demons. In a stupor they turned to see the half-demon twirl his blade before slowly placing it back into its scabbard. As soon as the handle of Yamato clicked, torrents of blood spewed all throughout the entire mob of demons as their bodies fell to pieces; Vergil’s attack having finally taken its effect. 

Vergil then turned to face the crowd of demons he left behind, just beyond the scattered corpses of their fallen allies. The remaining Abyss, having now seen the extent of the half-demon’s strength, had grown cautious. The large group of demons edged their way back almost in unison, trying to keep a safe distance between them and certain death. No longer wishing to waste anymore time, Vergil began to approach the demons at a relaxed pace, his grip on Yamato tightening, which was now glowing in a dark, violet aura, signaling the coming of a disastrous technique. His confidence grew with each step that brought him closer to the now almost cowering demons. However, this boost in confidence would prove almost fatal as an unseen Abyss emerged from the bloody lake directly below him. The demon had thrust its flaming pitchfork upwards, right under Vergil’s chin, in hopes to pierce through the arrogant devil’s skull. Though having seen the oncoming attack for just the briefest moment, it was more than enough time for Vergil to react as he disappeared once more, making it seem as if the pitchfork had phased through him, only to reappear just a few feet back. Having missed its target, the demon continued to fly upwards into the air, leaving itself wide open. Vergil simply scoffed at the feeble attempt before waving his right arm outwards. The motion had suddenly summoned forth multiple light-blue, luminescent swords to his aid as they encircled his body. 





With just the gesture of pointing upwards at the airborne demon, the swords ceased their spinning, and took aim towards their target. One by one, the swords launched themselves towards the demon at incredible speed, each sword piercing through its torso or tearing off limbs due to the sheer force of impact. The cries that had left the demon’s throat before impalement were nothing short of agonizing as the swords shot forth like bladed missiles, practically shredding the demon’s body. In a matter of seconds, nothing but the tattered remains of the Abyss’ corpse fell into the lake below, raining blood down on Vergil, his hair falling from its slicked back style due to the crimson liquid that now left him drenched from the shoulders up.

Vergil then turned his attention to the large group of demons that had finally given in to their most basic instincts: kill or be killed. Without further hesitation, they all had begun their charge towards Vergil, desperate to survive their struggle with the half-demon. Taking a step back, Vergil quickly bent at the knees and readied into his judgment cut stance. Tightly, he grasped Yamato as the dark violet aura emanating off the scabbard finally released; his gaze locked on the incoming demons. In only an instant, Vergil had drawn and replaced Yamato from its sheath numerous times in rapid succession. The sounds of the hilt clicking against the scabbard served as the only indication he had removed the blade in the first place as the speed at which he drew Yamato was almost instantaneous, too fast for the naked eye. Suddenly, what appeared to be streaks of light, sliced in all directions through the crowd of demons, dismembering, decapitating and destroying each and every last one of them in just the blink of an eye. Blood spewed in all directions as what could be considered the remains of the demons sank into the lake of Hell below. The fight was over. Once again, Vergil had fended off the Abyss’ attack for now, but knew that they would continue to pursue him so long as he was trapped here in Hell. Letting out a long sigh, Vergil tilted his head down before running his fingers through his snow, white hair, and with such grace, slicked it back to its original state in one swift wave of his hand; simultaneously brushing out most of the demon blood that had soaked into his hair. 

Silently, Vergil strode across the bloody lake, continuing his journey through the never ending Abyss. All that lay before him was nothing but the endless flow of blood and fallen architecture of centuries long past. Still, he was determined to press on. After all, he wasn’t dead yet, and so long as demon blood coursed through his veins, he would never rest until he could grasp what he desired most in both this world and the human world: power. 

His silent journey would not last long though, as Vergil’s attention was now diverted towards the blackened sky; or what one could consider a sky in Hell. Breaking through the black haze that loomed over the demon world, were three large red orbs that took a triangular formation; each orb emanating crimson lightning that streaked across the sky. Vergil’s blood ran cold as he knew all too well just what, or more in his case, who it was that now glared down at him from up high. The orbs were the very eyes of the devil himself: Mundus, the demon emperor of Hell. The very demon whom was said to have been bested by both Dante and Vergil’s father, Sparda. The demon emperor who rose to power once more now that Sparda was dead and gone. The exact demon who had presented himself before Vergil numerous times before ever since his defeat at the hands of his twin brother, Dante. 





“Impressive as usual, son of Sparda,” Boomed the commanding voice of Hell. “Just as the days become weeks, and the weeks grow into months, so too have you grown stronger with each and every enemy you’ve slain.” Vergil only sneered at the Prince of Darkness’ condescending tone, his gaze now but a menacing leer facing up at the three orbs. “However,” Mundus began once again. “I believe you and I both know that no matter how many demons you slay or how much you struggle, there’s no chance of you besting me. I merely wish to remind you of this truth, before your naiveté consumes you as you grow.” 

“Your arrogance precedes you, Mundus.” Vergil retorted as he drew Yamato and pointed the blade up to the sky. “Was it not because of that foolish thinking that my father defeated both you and your army? Or am I misinterpreting the legend?”

“No. You are correct, but you fail to understand one basic fact.” Mundus taunted. “You are not your father, and so long as both human and demon blood mingles in your veins, you can never hope to amount to even half of his strength. Listen when I say this, Vergil. You are weak! You are nothing but a child throwing a tantrum because you and I both know that you are but a mere remnant of Sparda’s legacy. Forever cast in the shadow of your Father; incapable of surpassing him like you dream so fondly of.”

Vergil gritted his teeth indignantly as Mundus’ words echoed throughout all of Hell; his hand shaking in absolute rage as his maddening desire to slay the demon king grew more and more. “Silence!” he barked, his blade still pointing up towards the demon king. “If all you can do is talk, then I will end your miserable existence here and now!” 

“You are welcome to try again, you insolent whelp!” Mundus bellowed, his eyes glowing brighter as the rage in his tone rose. 

“AAAAAAAAAAGGH!” Vergil cried as he charged towards Mundus in a blind fury with Yamato at the ready; his blood boiling, his wrath growing, and his lust for power filling every fiber in his being as he rushed forward to engage the Prince of Darkness in combat once more.









Hours passed as all of Hell echoed with the battle cries of Vergil, as he and Mundus tore through the never ending abyss. Off in the distance, the striking of blood red lightning colliding with streaks of light could be seen lighting up the blackened skies of the demon world; a clear indication at just how immense this demonic clash truly was. A struggle, like so many others that took place between the two before, would most assuredly end in the Demon King’s favor. Pained screams shot through the dark before an unnerving and abrupt silence soon settled in. 

Long after the fight was over, and long after the illuminating eyes of Mundus had receded back into the farthest reaches of Hell, a figure could be seen through the haze that lingered about the bloody lake. The figure slowly emerged from beyond the distance, wading through the scarlet liquid. Upon further inspection, the figure could be seen limping, struggling with all his might to hold himself up as he appeared to be hunched over. It was Vergil, whose body had been beaten, battered and broken; a result from his encounter with Mundus that left him clinging on for dear life as he desperately sought refuge throughout the demon world. Holding his bloodied chest with one hand while using Yamato like a cane with the other, Vergil was able to fight against the excruciating pain long enough to find a partially worn, stone shrine, resembling an ancient Greek temple that stood above the bloody lake’s surface. Unlike the many other fallen and broken works of architecture that lay scattered about the black abyss, there laid at the far end of this shrine, a statue. A statue that gave off a faint golden glow that shined, if only a little, through the dark haze; almost as though it were a beacon. As he approached the base of the stairs to the shrine, Vergil did everything in his power to try and climb his way up; only to stumble over not even three steps in. Still gripping tightly onto Yamato, the half-demon then began to feebly crawl his way up the stairs, his hands and knees now bearing the burden of which his legs no longer could. Cursing through his teeth as he finally reached the top of the stairs; he then picked himself up and lumbered towards the far end of the temple in front of the golden statue. The statue in question was in the image of a lioness-headed woman holding an hour glass over her head: in reverence to the omniscient god over time and space, otherwise known as The Watcher of Time. Looking upon this idol, Vergil simply dropped to his knees in despair, his expression filled with sorrow before he began pounding his bloodied fist into the temple floor. 

This was not the first time the half-demon had wound up here. Throughout his time in hell, no matter how far he traveled and no matter how many demons he laid to waste, it was always because of Mundus that he ended up in this exact spot, forever lost in Hell. Looking down at the base of the statue, Vergil saw an all too familiar marking. It was a series of tallies he had left as a grim reminder to himself time and time again: the tallies representing the number of times he had attempted to slay Mundus. Currently there were only eight, but Vergil silently reached for a small stone laying about the crumbling temple, and with a quivering hand, he drug the stone across the base of the golden statue; now reluctantly marking his ninth failed attempt at defeating the demon king. In a fit of rage, Vergil crushed the stone with his bare hand before throwing away the scattered remains. Pulling himself up, Vergil had managed to crawl towards the wall next to the statue, where he could at least rest until his injuries healed. All was quiet as he laid his head back against the stone wall, nothing but the sound of his labored breathing filling the silence of the demon world. Fatigue had begun to take over. His eyelids grew heavy and the pain became too much to bear in his conscious state. No longer wishing to resist the beckoning call of sleep, the half-demon relinquished just enough of his pride before allowing himself to pass out. 

Vergil laid there for what felt like days on end; nothing but blackness filling his mind as he slept. It was almost welcoming. His body felt weightless and his pain began to subside as he drifted more and more out of consciousness. However, a faint light had suddenly shined through the darkness of his eyelids; a light that was accompanied by a distant voice, calling out his name. 

“Vergil!” echoed the voice from all sides.

Vergil only chalked it up to a mere hallucination, possibly due to exhaustion, as he tried to clench his eyes shut even more, hoping to ignore this figment of his imagination.

Once more, the voice cried out, even louder this time; almost as if it were drawing closer to him. It was then that the light from which the voice came began to grow, forcing Vergil to finally open his eyes. To his amazement, the light was real, and in fact echoed the very voice he thought he had imagined. It had taken the shape of a large orb that seemed to originate from the divinity statue, next to where he rested. Before his very eyes, the brilliant white orb began to form an arch-like a doorway, where once again, he heard the voice that was calling out his name. Only this time, it wasn’t just a mere echo. It actually sounded familiar. 

“That voice…” Vergil murmured. “It couldn’t be…” 

The voice called out once more. “Vergil! Are you in there!?” 

It is, he thought, now absolutely sure of who it was that was calling out to him. “Dante…” he muttered in both surprise and disgust.

Fighting against the now fleeting pain, Vergil managed to bring himself up to his feet and walked over to the archway that stood only a few feet in front of him. Before he could walk through the light, a figure emerged forward through the arch-shaped portal. Before Vergil’s very eyes, his brother, Dante stood before him; a smirk across his face as he approached his battle worn twin. 

“I’m seeing it, but I don’t believe it,” Dante finally spoke up. “Then again, it’s not much of a surprise you’ve managed to survive down here all this time.” 

“What are you doing here?” Vergil asked, his anger growing with each passing second he was in his brother’s presence. He then reached for Yamato, causing Dante to throw up his hands.

“Woah, ease up there, bro. We’ll have plenty of time for that later. First we need to get you out of here.” 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Vergil demanded. “I knew you were a fool, but have you already forgotten why I’m here in the first place?” 

Letting out a sigh, Dante finally looked Vergil in the eyes, his tone taking a much more dire tone. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain right now.” He said as he quickly glanced around. “I can fill you in on all the details once we get you out of here.”

“Why should I even trust you?” Vergil asked as he readied his hand, gripping Yamato.

“Because I’m pretty sure any place is better than here, despite what you told me back at the Hell Gate. Hmph, and judging by your appearance, I’m guessing you’re not exactly having the time of your life down here.” Dante went to explain. 

Vergil took his hand off his sword as he relaxed his posture, taking a step back from Dante; contemplating the offer that was presented before him. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Dante held out his hand to his brother, the cut that Vergil had left on his glove a year ago, still visible across the palm of his leather glove. “What do ya say, Vergil? Feel like ditching this dump?” 

Looking out into the distance, Vergil took one last glance at the blackened abyss that was Hell, knowing that any chance he had of obtaining his Father’s power, should he choose to stay down here, would forever be beyond his reach. After a moment’s hesitation, Vergil considered his options, having remembered that Dante possessed two of the three keys he needed to unlock Sparda’s true strength. 

He then walked up to Dante, only to gently slap his offering hand aside as he strode past his brother and through the arch-shaped portal. Looking at his hand, Dante simply shook his head in disappointment before turning to follow Vergil. The portal soon closed behind the demon twins and the brilliant ray of light dissipated into the hour glass of the divinity statue. 









After their departure through the portal, Dante and Vergil arrived in the lair of Doctor Strange, who had greeted them shortly after. He was known as one of the most powerful beings in all of the Marvel Universe, and through utilizing his magical prowess he had been able to summon Dante earlier to assist him with their current intergalactic conundrum.  After the introductions, Doctor Strange went on to explain to Vergil how he had enlisted the aid of many powerful beings from his universe, including his brother, and exactly why they had pulled him out of hell.  “You see, Vergil,” the Doctor began. “Both of our worlds are colliding together through an interdimensional gateway constructed by Doctor Doom, whom with the help of a man from your universe known as Albert Wesker, has inadvertently caused a cataclysmic rip in the space time continuum.”

“And exactly why does this concern me?” Vergil asked, turning his gaze from the Doctor to Dante, completely apathetic to the dilemma befalling the universe. 

“Because your sword is what the Doc needs to help cut off the connection between our worlds.” Dante answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Precisely why I sought out both you and your brother,” Strange explained. “After all, it was Dante who proposed the idea, given the circumstances and the extent of my power. He told me much of your sword, Yamato, and he figured if you were still alive in the demon world, you would more than likely decline any offer to leave unless he himself persuaded you.”

“And I suppose that you expect me to play along with this little save-the-world scheme simply out of gratitude for freeing me from Hell, am I right?” Vergil asked condescendingly as he approached the Doctor. 

Dante was becoming significantly irritated with Vergil’s attitude towards their dilemma. Not only was he willing to outright decline their offer, but he was willing to do so at the expense of their entire world, even after Strange had restored Vergil’s strength upon his release from the Demon World. “Nice to see you’ve retained that same ol’ charming charisma.” he mumbled sarcastically.

“Actually, you have it all wrong,” Doctor Strange went on to correct Vergil. “You see, with this tear in the space time continuum, our worlds will become more and more unstable the more they continue to meld into one another, eventually leading to the end of not just my universe, but yours as well! The universe as we know it will collapse on itself if we don’t do anything to prevent it.”

“And that also means no more taking a grab for our old man’s power!” Dante chimed in, catching Vergil’s utmost attention. “Not sure if you've let this whole scenario sink in, bro, but if their world goes, so does ours, as well as the demon world. Which means-“

“Which means that nowhere will be safe should this come to pass,” Vergil interrupted, finishing Dante’s sentence. “Our lives will be snuffed out almost instantaneously once all of reality collapses.” 

“Pretty much.” confirmed Dante. 

Vergil then confronted Doctor Strange once more. “It seems we’ve both lucked out given the circumstances that have brought us here.”

“So what will be your decision?” the Doctor asked. 

“I’ll assist you…” Vergil said. He then turned towards Dante who was still watching on in anticipation. “On one condition.”

Dante’s brow furrowed as he gripped the silver amulet hanging around his neck. It was one of the two amulets their father had bestowed upon them before he had passed on. “No way in hell am I letting you get your greedy hands on this bad boy,” Dante said defensively. “You’ve got your own.” 

Vergil let out a small chuckle in response to Dante’s suspicion. “Don’t insult me, brother. I can take that for myself any time I’d like.” he said as he pulled out his matching golden amulet from his inner coat pocket. “No. What I want is our father’s sword, Force Edge. That and my set of gauntlets and greaves you so hastily took for your own.” 

“Over my dead body.” Dante said in disgust as he reached behind his back for Rebellion.

“That can be arranged.” Vergil retorted, gripping Yamato.

“Enough of this you two!” shouted Doctor Strange as he separated the two with a magical golden aura that emanated from his hands. “Dante! Whether you like it or not, it seems that Vergil has made some reasonable demands for his assistance. I advise we at least follow through on such a simple request.” 

Letting go of his sword, Dante begrudgingly reached behind him to pull forth Force Edge that was holstered onto his back next to Rebellion. He then walked over to Vergil, a look of both anger and disappointment in his eyes, before reluctantly holding out their father’s sword by the hilt. 

With a satisfied smirk, Vergil slowly took the blade from his brother, gripping the handle ever so tightly, the rush of their last battle now coming back to him, the feel of coming one step closer to surpassing Sparda. All these sensations overtook Vergil in just brief moment as he reclaimed the sword that he knew rightfully belonged to him. However, he wasn't too overtaken by the rush as he held out his other hand, gesturing for Dante to hand over the gauntlets and greaves known as Beowulf. 

Dante complied against his better judgment as he summoned forth Beowulf and relinquished the weapons unto his brother, if only for the fact that the very universe depended Vergil’s cooperation with the Doctor. 

Taking their leave, the demon twins walked alongside each other in absolute silence, knowing neither of them had any choice but to go through with the Doctor’s orders. As they neared the gateway, Vergil held tightly onto both Force Edge and Yamato; a new resolve having now formed from the darkest corners of the half-demon’s mind. The power of Sparda was well within his reach yet again, and once he played his part in this series of cosmic events, nothing, not even Dante would be able to stand between him and absolute power over both the human and demon world. 









Slowly coming to from his prolonged recollections, Vergil quickly looked up to see the moon was still barely reaching its peak. He then looked back down to find that he was still holding the one last sandwich Fluttershy had made for him. He quickly ate the whole thing in only a few bites. After finishing the delectable meal, Vergil dusted off the few crumbs that fell onto his coat while wiping his muzzle with Fluttershy’s cloth. He then leapt from the log on which he was seated, now standing on all fours as he grabbed his saddle bag, ready to continue onwards towards the badlands. Before walking off, Vergil took the daisy decorated cloth Fluttershy had used to wrap his lunch and tucked it away into his inner coat pocket. Having situated himself, he then proceeded to make his way out of the Everfree. 

There, at the very edge of the forest, lay a dirt path leading off into a desert like wasteland, littered with enormous mountains and rock formations as far as the eye could see. The sand had now taken an azure tone under the dark, starlit sky.

Almost there, Vergil thought to himself as he proceeded to disappear off into the horizon of the badlands.