Notes: because I wanted to show why Vergil clutched his head in dmc1, or rather Nelo, (Mundus calls him Vergil as well)so it's here. Yes, it's finally complete. Thanks for the feedback. It's much appreciated.

For those who have played the games; you'll recognize the insert here with the battle scene in DMC1 with Mundus, but this time it's Vergil.

Only Angels Weep: Flashback

X

"Am I being defeated?" Vergil said that before – when his brother fought with him in a respectable battle.

He was furious with himself. To lose to his brother was insulting enough, but to lose to this disgusting pile of filth; it was enough to make him choke on the human blood he had and drown in it.

Trickery! Mundus cheated!

His mouth foamed with blood; the trickle of dark scarlet liquid now covered his chin and neck, soaking his blue attire. The taste of metallic liquid scorched his insides; it was eating him alive.

The battle was ruthless.

"Again, I must face a Sparda….," was that what the Dark Lord said? He couldn't remember anymore – he was dying fast. The ferocity of his pain was taking its toil, altering him, mutating him and the one thing that kept him alive? The Amulet.

The influence of the amulet was keeping his soul alive.

The glacial blue eyes, wet with the sting of pain gazed menacingly back at his adversary. "You're no match for the Son of Sparda." Arrogant words, but then again, Vergil was nothing less than.

Elegantly flipping his sword, it swished with a silky hum, in spite of his harsh breathing and the pounding of his heart. Vergil summoned more of his strength, producing limitless mystical swords out of thin air; they followed his direction, his anger, and command.

He walked with the air of his father, facing the Dark lord; Vergil metamorphosed, changed into a powerful demon. His skin darkened granite grey, dark brick colored blood lined his face, obscuring any beauty he ever had, and the silky strands colored darkly as white washed charcoal.

When they fought; the hallucination of planets surrounded them, encasing them in the flashes of devils power. They reflected the souls of the damned; complementing the universe but a fake mirror image of what was true.

The entire realm warped, shifted, accommodating their battle with moaning cries of damned souls;Vergil's vision focused as the peripheral skyscrape fell like red hot daggers.

Witnessing the ground beneath him throb,Vergil saw more of Mundus's armies rising to attack. The half-devil's lightning-fast flurry of cuts pushed back the foes, stabbing them with the mystical blue swords.

"You're not worthy to be my opponent." He bit out, but ignored the growing fatigue. The enemies disintegrated – melting into the ground only to come back up and Mundus laughed.

After being hit by several stinging fire balls and rising lava directed his way,Vergil's wet silver strands lay against his eyes, and he could hear his heavy rasping. He flipped his white hair back, the ends curling around his sweaty temples; focusing on his prey, he charged with his Yamato.

Avoiding the bevy of bitter rain falling in deadly sheets, Vergil slid violently over, rolling to find himself behind a boulder; immediately it obliterated from the powerful surge of fireballs the Dark Lord sent.

This was his chance.

Little by little, his own body couldn't generate more power – acidic rain was pulverizing his body; the mirage of swords materializing to eliminate forming planets, but were quickly replaced by more.

A sound of a piercing wail shifted his attention – it was then Vergil saw something that could break or save him.

The dormant dragon from the fires of hell flew out of the boiling river, swooping up into the crimson sky. The creature went down in a smooth arc, scorching souls and eating them alive. With its attack, it rendered the half devil's power nearly null.

"Ungh…" Vergil pushed himself up, his vision blurred, finding to his angry dismay, his former human façade was back up – he lifted his bloodied hand, pulling his Yamato towards him, and looked into it. Blue-glacial eyes stared back at him and his aquiline features hardened with fury.

He saw the dragon. The luminous fire beast floated along the rim of the lava, and Mundus started summoning up his energy again. The mouth of the mystical hellish demon opened wide to blast another round at Sparda's son, but his smaller opponent flicked his wrist – throwing the Yamato into it's mouth.

Capturing it, this created a noiseless bang upon explosion - of mystical hidden healing power to the half demon, and saved his life.

The battle went on for what would have been eons.

End Flashback

"Vergil. Your brother is coming home. Make his welcome complete, and destroy him."

Mundus said those words to him, using a telepathic power in the half devil's head.

Trish anticipantly smacked her lips together, sticking her leather hip out; her other comrades were preparing for the battle to come. If Vergil was as dangerous to the Dark Lord before, then his sibling may pose a certain threat. Their loyalty to the Prince of Darkness would be tested against the traitor's son.

But they underestimated the younger twin.

"Go, Trish, and find the boy. Bring him to us."

She stood before him, gazing up at the statue. She was used to Mundus hiding behind some corporeal form; he lacked the physical body. Bowing before her master, she then raised her bright head; her blue eyes stayed steady and lifeless. "Yes, my lord."

When Dante made it to the Black Knight's lair, finding a mirror before him, the younger twin was expecting this.

A doppelganger pushed out of the evil energy of the mirror, facing his brother, circling each other; the immortal color of silver, and their piercing blue eyes wanted some justice. Both in their own way. Twins – one good, fighting for humanity, and the other – loyalty and principle bound his pride. Pride: the greatest sin of all.

"This stinkin' hole is the last place I thought I would find anyone with some guts and honor!" Dante spat out.

Transforming, Vergil's armor materialized, encasing his once former silver crown with horns like his father. There was an aura of great evil formulating around his body, and because of his pride as a warrior, the elder twin beckoned the other into the battlefield, disappearing outside where only demons could venture.

Dante found that fighting with Nelo Angelo was harder than he thought; the beam of bright glowing blue attacks sent the younger one rolling on the ground and flying away.

It was when they came in close contact – sword to sword clanging; the new melee' weapon in Dante's hand fended off his brother's. It was the power of Sparda that coursed through Vergil that pushed him.

On the third teleportation, Nelo used his close combat skills minus the sword to end his brother's life.

Dante was struggling, choking, feeling the vise grip of the armored hand clasp around his neck. The amulet fell out of his red jacket –

Vergil! Stop! You must not do this to your brother! You're killing him!

The woman's voice pleaded in Nelo's head. It was his mother – not the one who transformed into that imposter, but the gentle human woman who once rocked him to sleep, telling him that she loved him so very much.

The pain was intense; it felt like a thousand splashes of holy water twisting his black soul.

He released his brother, a beast's growl escaped his lips and Vergil flew away – to get away from the human pain he tried so hard to fight against. The cancerous human emotions his mother placed in his heart, now cold and dead.

In the empty darkness, Vergil waited there - a lifeless puppet loyal to his father's enemy.

He was too arrogant to go back to the human world; he would never last there without ruthlessly killing the humans who festered. Vergil would have tolerated the darkness, would have lived an eternity there. How could he go on like this, when his mother called out to him crying?

"Mother…" he rasped in the black void. "Forgive me..."

Some where in his younger brother's amulet, there lies the original human heart of a woman who cried for her sons.Vergil's half of the amulet was dormant, cold and barren just like his soul. Yet protected him from dying all these years.

Now it was complete and it burned brighter than any star. It now belonged to the only son who was worthy to save the world. His mother was an angel; his brother followed in her footsteps - honed with the power of their father's curse.

Nelo would not cry.

He couldn't, because only Angels weep.