Work Text:
The demon realm shook beneath the clash of kings.
High above the broken wastelands of Makai, two colossal figures tore into each other with enough force to split mountains. Mundus roared in fury as Argosax answered with a howl of chaos, their fists colliding in an explosion of demonic power that rippled across the battlefield like a living storm.
The shockwave hit Dante head on.
“Ghk—!”
His boots carved trenches into the blackened stone as he was shoved backwards by the sheer pressure alone. The air itself felt heavy, saturated with enough demonic energy to suffocate lesser creatures instantly. Dante grit his teeth hard enough that his jaw ached, Rebellion dug into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor himself.
But he was tired.
God, he was tired.
His entire body screamed in protest, muscles trembling after hours of nonstop fighting. Blood dripped warm down the side of his face, disappearing into the collar of his coat as another violent tremor rattled the landscape.
From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Vergil several yards away, his brother braced low against the gale of power with his blade planted before him. Even Vergil looked strained, blue coat whipping violently around him as the force pressed down on them.
Then the two demon kings collided again.
The resulting blast erupted outward in a tidal wave.
Dante’s eyes widened just slightly before his footing finally gave out beneath him.
“Shit—!”
The world tilted violently.
The ground vanished from beneath his boots as he was thrown backwards into open air, vision blurring into streaks of crimson lightning and blackened skies. For one dizzy second all he could hear was ringing.
Suddenly, a blinding burst of cerulean light exploded across his vision.
The ringing in Dante’s ears cut out sharply as something slammed into him midair, a pair of strong arms hooking around his torso and wrenching him upright before he could crash into the ground.
“Woah! You alright there—”
The voice was young. Rough around the edges but familiar somehow.
Then it abruptly choked off.
“...Dante?!”
Dante blinked hard against the haze clouding his vision.
For a second all he could see was blue.
Blue light. Blue eyes. Blue fire crackling through the air around them.
Then his sight finally focused.
The guy holding him couldn’t have been much younger than him, maybe early twenties at most. Short silver hair framed a face that looked far too human to belong in Makai, though the faint glow of demonic energy crawling beneath his skin said otherwise. A dark blue coat hung over a black shirt, worn and battle-scarred in a way Dante recognized instantly. Mechanical plating wrapped around one of his arms, gleaming under the hellish sky while spectral blue energy flickered around it in unstable pulses.
But it was his eyes that froze Dante in place.
Crystal blue and wide with disbelief. The stranger stared at him like he’d just seen a ghost.
“You...” the stranger breathed, grip tightening instinctively around him. “No way...”
“Well well well,” a rough gravelly voice called out from behind them. “What the hell is this?”
Dante’s senses snapped back into focus instantly.
Danger.
On pure instinct, he drove his elbow back as hard as he could.
“Oof—!”
The stranger doubled over with a strangled grunt, grip loosening just enough for Dante to wrench himself free. Boots skidding across shattered stone, he stumbled back several paces before hauling Rebellion upright defensively.
The blade came up between him and the newcomers in one smooth motion.
Beside him, Vergil moved almost immediately as well, Yamato flashing free with a metallic hiss as he took position at Dante’s flank. The twins turned as one toward the source of the voice… and Dante’s brain nearly short circuited.
A massive cerulean portal burned against the dark wasteland behind them.
Its shape formed a gigantic glowing cross suspended in midair, demonic energy crackling violently along its edges. The portal looked almost identical to the tears Vergil carved through space with his own blade, only far larger. Far more stable.
And standing before it were three men.
Well. Two standing men.
The silver-haired stranger Dante had elbowed was currently hunched over wheezing somewhere to the side, clutching at his stomach while muttering curses under his breath.
But Dante barely registered him anymore.
Because the two figures standing behind him were impossible.
The first man lounged casually with one hand resting against the hilt of an enormous sword strapped across his back. He was taller than Dante remembered himself being, broader too, his build filled out with age and old scars. A long crimson coat hung heavy around him, darker and more worn than Dante’s own, the leather cracked from years of battle.
His silver hair was longer now, messier, falling around a face roughened by time. Stubble shadowed his jaw while deep lines sat permanently etched around sharp ice-blue eyes that somehow still carried the exact same cocky amusement Dante saw every morning in the mirror.
Next to him stood Vergil, or something terrifyingly close to him. The resemblance was almost worse somehow.
The man stood ramrod straight in a dark blue coat lined with black, posture perfectly composed despite the chaos around them. His silver hair had been slicked back neatly, though a few loose strands framed a face sharper and colder than the Vergil beside Dante. Time had carved harsh edges into him too, the faintest traces of age visible around narrowed blue eyes that held the weight of something ancient and tired.
Unlike the older Dante though, there was no easy grin there.
Only stillness, controlled and dangerous.
Dante felt his stomach twist violently. It was almost like staring into some twisted reflection. An old and fucked up mirror.
The older Dante blinked once at the younger twins, surprise flashing briefly across his face before it vanished beneath an infuriatingly familiar grin.
“Well hello there, handsome.”
The smirk that followed was pure Dante. Hearing his own voice come out deeper, worn down by the years and god knows what else sent an unpleasant shiver down Dante’s spine.
“What the fuck, Dante,” the silver-haired stranger groaned from the ground.
He pushed himself upright carefully, one hand clutching his stomach where Dante had nailed him. The guy shot him an annoyed glare before glancing around properly for the first time.
“Where are we—” His voice caught, expression dropping completely. “Oh fuck.”
Dante followed his gaze instinctively.
High above them, Mundus slammed Argosax through the ruins of a crumbling cliff face hard enough to shatter the landscape. The two demon kings tore into each other with enough force to distort the air itself, black lightning arcing wildly around their bodies as Makai screamed beneath them.
The stranger’s eyes widened almost comically. “That…” he said weakly. “That’s not who I think it is… is it?” His gaze darted frantically between the towering figures.
A low growl rumbled from the older Vergil. The sound alone made the hairs on the back of Dante’s neck stand up as his head snapped toward him sharply.
The older Vergil stood utterly still, blade hanging loose at his side as his eyes locked onto the distant figure of Mundus.
Hatred. Pure, concentrated hatred.
Something ancient and murderous and so deeply buried it looked like it had calcified into the man’s bones.
The air around him warped. Tiny fractures splintered through the stone beneath his boots with soft cracking noises.
Older Vergil didn’t even seem aware of anyone else anymore.
Not the two men who arrived with him.
Not the younger twins.
Not even the battlefield around them.
Only Mundus.
Without a single word, he started stalking forward, a deliberate stride that somehow felt more threatening than any scream or battle cry Dante had ever heard.
He shoved past the younger twins without even sparing them a glance, coat billowing sharply behind him as demonic energy flickered faintly around his frame.
Dante turned instinctively as the man passed. Every instinct in his body screamed danger.
“Oh dear…” the older Dante sighed behind them.
The man rubbed a hand down his face like someone watching an inevitable trainwreck unfold in real time before immediately striding after his twin.
“Keep an eye on the two of them, Nero,” he called over his shoulder casually. “Guess I’m playing damage control again.”
“Hey! Just hold on a minute—”
Before the newly named Nero could finish, the older Dante brushed past him too, coat snapping dramatically in the hell wind as he hurried to catch up with the blue-clad twin marching toward two demon kings like he fully intended to kill God personally.
“Oh I hate it when they do that,” Nero groaned.
“Wa— Wait!” Dante shouted.
He spun around immediately, boots grinding against shattered stone as he lunged after the older twins.
He barely made it two steps. Before something slammed around his waist.
A massive spectral arm erupted from thin air in a burst of blue light, wrapping around his midsection hard enough to yank him clean off balance.
“What the—!”
Dante twisted violently as the construct hauled him backwards.
Beside him, Vergil reacted instantly, blade flashing up— Only for a second glowing arm to clamp around him too.
“What is this?” Vergil snapped brows furrowed in anger.
Blue energy crackled around both restraints, translucent yet impossibly solid. The oversized arms looked almost human in shape, though warped and demonic, glowing veins of cerulean light pulsing beneath their surface.
“Sorry about this!” Nero called.
He stood several feet away now with one hand raised slightly, blue energy dancing around his form. Dante realized with a start that the spectral limbs were connected directly to him somehow, demonic constructs formed from raw power.
The glowing arm around Dante tightened the second he struggled.
“Let me go!” Dante barked, wrenching against the restraint with all his strength.
Nothing, the construct didn’t budge even an inch.
“They’re gonna get themselves killed!” Dante snarled, jerking his head wildly toward the retreating figures of the older twins marching straight toward two demon kings.
Nero blinked once. Then he snorted.
“Believe it or not,” he said dryly, “I’m not really worried about those two meatheads.”
He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, brows furrowing as he glanced between the younger twins.
“I’m more worried that you two are gonna get in the way.”
Vergil’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“In the way of wha—”
The rest of the sentence died instantly.
A pulse of demonic power exploded outward across the battlefield.
The entire realm trembled.
Dante’s head snapped forward just in time to see the older twins stop walking.
For one impossibly still moment, everything went silent.
Then light erupted.
Crimson and blue demonic energy detonated around the two men in twin pillars of power so dense it physically distorted the air around them. The shockwave alone cratered the ground beneath their feet.
Dante felt his breath catch.
The older twins vanished inside the storm of light.
Something emerged from within it.
The older Vergil transformed first.
Blue energy condensed around him like armor forged from lightning itself as his body reshaped into something inhumanly regal. Massive black wings unfurled from his back edged in glowing sapphire light while curved horns swept back from his skull like a crown. His entire body looked lean and impossibly sharp, plated in dark chitin-like armor lined with glowing blue fissures that pulsed with demonic energy.
He looked less like a demon and more like a weapon given life.
Then Dante saw the older version of himself.
Crimson fire exploded outward violently as enormous wings burst from his back in a shower of sparks. His body grew broader, draped in organic armor the color of molten blood and obsidian. Glowing magma-like cracks ran beneath the surface of his skin while twin horns curved upward from his head.
His eyes burned bright red, like the embodiment of destruction itself.
The sheer amount of demonic power pouring off the two forms was indescribable. It saturated the air so heavily Dante could barely breathe through it. The landscape around them groaned under the pressure alone, black stone splitting apart beneath their feet as reality itself strained against their existence.
Beside him, even Vergil had gone completely still.
Far above them, the two demon kings finally noticed.
Mundus turned first.
His enormous burning eye narrowed as the twin demon princes rose slowly into the air beneath halos of crackling red and blue energy.
Argosax stilled as well, malformed body twitching violently as chaos energy rippled around it in agitation.
The battlefield fell silent. Even the winds seemed to stop.
“Who dares—”
Mundus never finished the sentence.
Vergil moved.
The blue demon vanished in a blinding flash of light.
A sonic boom ripped across the battlefield half a second later as he reappeared directly in front of Mundus and drove his fist straight into the demon king’s face.
The impact was catastrophic, shockwaves split the clouds apart instantly.
Mundus’s massive head snapped sideways as the force launched the king clean across the wasteland, his colossal body tearing through mountains in an explosion of black stone and fire.
Dante barely had time to process it.
Because the older version of himself was already moving too. The crimson demon shot forward like a meteor finding its own mark in the Lord of Chaos.
Argosax barely had time to react.
The older Dante crashed into the Lord of Chaos like a falling star, one clawed hand slamming into the demon king’s chest hard enough to fold the massive body around the impact point. The force detonated outward a heartbeat later.
The entire landscape ruptured.
Black stone erupted skyward as Argosax was driven clean through the ground, vanishing beneath layers of shattered rock and hellfire. Before the debris had even begun falling, the crimson demon was already moving again.
Too fast. Dante almost lost track of him entirely.
One second he was buried beneath collapsing mountains.
The next, he reappeared above Argosax in a burst of crimson light, enormous sword materializing in his grasp as he brought it down in a brutal overhead strike.
The blade hit like divine judgment.
A pillar of red energy speared through the wasteland, carving a canyon across Makai itself as Argosax screamed.
The older Dante didn’t let up.
He moved with terrifying efficiency, every strike flowing seamlessly into the next. A rain of summoned swords materialized behind him before launching downward in a storm of glowing red spears that tore through Argosax’s flesh faster than the eye could follow.
The older Dante grabbed Argosax by one malformed limb and spun violently before hurling the demon king straight into the air.
He vanished after it instantly.
The next impact came high above the battlefield.
A shockwave exploded through the clouds as the older Dante drove both fists into Argosax’s torso repeatedly with enough force to turn the sky itself crimson. Each hit landed like artillery fire, rapid and merciless and utterly overwhelming.
Meanwhile—
Mundus never recovered from the first punch. The older Vergil descended upon him like a guillotine, blue flashes carved across the battlefield faster than Dante’s eyes could process. Every movement was precise. Controlled. Perfect.
Mundus roared as countless cuts suddenly erupted across his body all at once, entire sections of demonic armor splitting apart a second after Vergil’s blade had already passed through them.
The older Vergil moved without wasted motion, teleporting through space in bursts of blue light that left afterimages hanging in the air. His blade flickered once—
—and a massive section of the wasteland behind Mundus silently split in half.
Then the cuts reached the demon king.
Mundus convulsed violently as dozens upon dozens of slashes detonated across his body simultaneously.
The king screamed.
Vergil appeared directly before him.
One glowing wing snapped outward as he drove Yamato clean through Mundus’s chest.
Blue light erupted everywhere.
For one impossible moment, space itself seemed to fracture around the blade. Thin glowing lines spread outward through the air like cracks in glass before collapsing inward violently.
Mundus’s entire body folded in on itself as the attack detonated.
The explosion swallowed half the battlefield.
Dante shielded his eyes instinctively against the wave of heat and light that followed.
When he looked back up, the older Vergil was still there.
Floating motionlessly in the sky.
Completely untouched.
Mundus, meanwhile, came crashing down from above like a dying meteor.
The demon king slammed into the wasteland hard enough to level what remained of an entire mountain range.
Silence followed for just a beat, then Argosax came hurtling down seconds later.
The older Dante descended after him almost lazily, one hand wrapped around the demon king’s face as he drove the colossal body straight into the ground with enough force to create a crater stretching for miles.
The impact shook Makai to its core.
Dust and hellfire billowed upward in massive waves.
And then…
Nothing.
No roars.
No movement.
Just two demon kings lying broken in the ruins.
The fight had lasted less than a minute.
Dante realized slowly that his jaw had gone slack.
Beside him, Vergil looked equally stunned, blue eyes locked upward in naked disbelief.
“In the way of that,” Nero finished weakly.
The spectral arms binding the twins dissolved into drifting particles of blue light now that neither of them seemed remotely interested in moving anymore.
Dante barely noticed.
His eyes remained fixed on the two figures hovering high above the battlefield.
Twin demon princes suspended beneath the ruined skies of Makai.
Red and blue energy spiraled around them like halos, illuminating the darkness in violent streaks of color. The older Dante’s massive wings unfurled behind him in burning crimson while the older Vergil floated opposite him wreathed in cold sapphire light.
Side by side.
Absolute.
Beautiful.
And utterly devastating.
The two figures descended slowly from the shattered skies of Makai.
Crimson and sapphire light trailed behind them in burning streaks as they dropped toward the ruined wasteland below, demonic energy still crackling violently around their forms. The pressure in the air lessened with every second, though Dante could still feel it thrumming beneath his skin like residual lightning.
They landed hard enough to shake the ground.
A massive cloud of dust and ash billowed outward from the impact point, swallowing the battlefield whole for a brief moment.
Then the light began to fade.
The monstrous demonic armor peeled away from their bodies in drifting fragments of red and blue energy, dissolving into glowing embers that scattered into the wind. Wings vanished. Horns receded. The oppressive aura blanketing the landscape slowly compressed back down into something almost manageable.
And standing there once the dust finally settled were just two men again.
Well. “Just” felt like the wrong word now.
The older Dante rolled one shoulder casually like he hadn’t just folded a demon king in half with his bare hands seconds ago.
“Hey…” he said, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Sorry to ditch you all like that, but uh… someone didn’t really give me a chance to explain.” He shot an exaggeratedly pointed look toward his twin.
The older Vergil merely glanced away with all the emotional responsiveness of a marble statue. “Hmph.”
Nero snorted quietly before stepping forward to join them, boots crunching over broken stone as he slid naturally into place beside the older twins. The three of them together looked… strangely complete somehow.
Like pieces of a puzzle Dante didn’t understand yet.
Dante’s grip tightened unconsciously around Rebellion. Beside him, Vergil looked equally tense.
No, not tense, shaken.
Dante still knew enough of his brother to recognize the signs. The rigid posture. The unnaturally still expression. The faint widening of his eyes that most people would never notice.
Vergil was rattled.
Honestly, Dante couldn’t blame him.
“Who…” Vergil began slowly.
His voice sounded strangely strained.
“Who are you?”
The question came out almost sharp by the end as his eyes flicked rapidly between the three newcomers.
“How did you take down Mundus…” Vergil demanded, his composure slipping just slightly. “Take down Argosax so easily?”
The older Dante blinked.
“Argosax?” he repeated with a confused furrow of his brow. “Who on earth is Argosax?”
Dante stared at him.
Nero stared at him too.
Then the younger man dragged a hand down his face with visible suffering.
“Demon king of Chaos?” Nero said incredulously. “One time ruler of the demon realm? You killed him like ages ago, how do you not remember that?”
The older Dante squinted upward thoughtfully.
Nero continued before he could answer.
“It’s all Lucia talks about whenever she visits.”
Recognition suddenly flashed across the older Dante’s face.
“Ohhh, yeah!” He snapped his fingers triumphantly. “Him. I remember now.”
Nero looked genuinely relieved.
“The one that weird rich guy tried to resurrect,” the older Dante finished cheerfully.
Nero’s expression flattened instantly.
“Arius,” he corrected tiredly. “His name was Arius.”
“Right, that guy.”
“How do I know more about your own jobs than you do?” Nero groaned.
The older Dante shrugged helplessly.
“He was lame.”
A soft scoff escaped the older Vergil beside him, unmistakably amused.
After that, the older Dante’s eyes finally settled fully onto the younger twins again.
“So, uh…” he began awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Guess we kinda owe you guys an explanation?”
Beside him, Nero immediately facepalmed.
Dante barely noticed. His mind was still struggling to process the fact that an older version of himself had just casually beaten a demon king to death in under sixty seconds.
Vergil, meanwhile, looked eerily focused now. The shock had already started hardening into cold calculation behind his eyes. “You’re us from another dimension,” he stated flatly.
The older Dante snapped his fingers immediately. “Bingo!” he said with a grin. “Should’ve known you’d figure it out first, Verg.”
Dante shot his brother a sideways look. Vergil ignored him completely, gaze still locked onto his older counterpart with unnerving intensity.
“Why…” Dante started slowly, dragging his attention back toward the trio. “Why are you here?” Honestly, he wasn’t even sure where to begin anymore. His head still felt like someone had shoved a grenade into it and pulled the pin.
The older Vergil answered before anyone else could. “We were hunting a demon capable of traversing interdimensional barriers,” he said briskly. His tone was clipped. Efficient. Like this entire situation was already becoming an inconvenience.
“It appears our quarry fled into this reality during pursuit.” His cool blue gaze swept over the younger twins briefly. “Its presence here was a coincidence. Nothing more.” Then, without another word, he turned away.
His blade slid partially free from its sheath with a soft metallic hiss. Blue light immediately began gathering along the blade’s edge.
Dante blinked. “Uh…”
The older Vergil raised the katana—
“Woah woah woah, cool it V.” The older Dante lunged instantly, hooking an arm around his twin’s neck and physically dragging him backwards before the portal could fully form.
The older Vergil let out a low irritated sound as blue energy fizzled out.
“Dante,” he said flatly.
“Nope.” The older Dante tightened his hold stubbornly. “Absolutely not.”
“We clearly interrupted something important here,” the older Dante continued, gesturing vaguely around the obliterated battlefield. “Would be kinda rude to just dip immediately.”
He pointed upward lazily with one finger.
“Besides… you looked up lately?”
Everyone’s attention shifted skyward almost instinctively.
Dante’s stomach sank slightly. The sky above Makai had split open completely during the battle.
Massive fractures of glowing purple energy stretched across the darkness like wounds carved directly into reality itself. At the center hung the enormous portal connecting Makai to Earth, unstable edges pulsing violently as demonic energy poured through nonstop.
Even from here, Dante could feel it. The barrier between worlds was collapsing.
Beside him, Vergil’s expression darkened immediately.
“They can deal with it,” the older Vergil grunted irritably. “We already slew their enemies for them.” He tried to wrench his arm free again only for the older Dante to immediately haul him back into a headlock.
“Nuh uh.” The older Dante wrestled Yamato back downward before the blade could fully clear its sheath again. “I am not leaving any version of Earth open to this creepy demon-infested cesspit.”
He turned sharply. “Back me up here, Nero.”
“Oh no,” Nero said immediately. He took one cautious step backwards, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the older twins already half wrestling beside him. “Absolutely not. Do not drag me into one of your arguments again.”
Glancing back over at the younger twins however, his eyes softened. “Hm… I guess, it’s only fair that we help out if the two of you need anything… uh, Dante?” The younger man eyed him cautiously, expression suddenly looking far less certain than before. Weirdly flustered too.
Dante frowned slightly. Okay, that was definitely getting stranger.
“See!” the older Dante barked triumphantly. “He agrees with me!”
“Get off me, you oaf.” The older Vergil finally tore himself free with an aggravated shove, straightening his coat with visible irritation before turning a razor sharp glare onto his twin.
The older Dante merely grinned completely unapologetically.
The older Vergil’s eyes narrowed dangerously before he pivoted smoothly toward the younger twins instead. “Very well,” he said coldly. “Speak. Say what you will and do it quickly.”
Dante felt himself going slightly rigid again beneath the scrutiny of the older man. “We uh…” He started intelligently. God, why was it suddenly so hard to talk?
“We need to get back to Earth?” he managed finally, gesturing vaguely upward toward the shattered sky. “And close that massive rift?”
“Hm.” The older Dante hummed thoughtfully, blue eyes scanning across the devastated wastelands around them.
For a second Dante thought the man was actually considering the problem seriously. Then the older Dante’s gaze snagged onto something in the distance.
“Oh hey.”
Far across the battlefield, buried beneath layers of broken stone and demonic corpses, a faint purple glow pulsed weakly through the ruins.
Dante’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.
Before he could react, the older Dante simply raised one hand lazily.
The glow intensified instantly.
A second later the Devil Sword Sparda erupted free from the rubble.
The massive broadsword tore across the battlefield like a missile, spinning violently through the air as purple lightning crackled along its edge. It crossed the distance in seconds before slamming neatly into the older Dante’s waiting hand with a heavy metallic thunk.
The man caught it effortlessly, barely even looking at the weapon before casually flipping it once in his grip.
Then he stepped forward and held it out. Dante stared blankly for half a second before instinctively accepting the sword as it was pressed into his arms.
“Cool,” the older Dante said brightly, dusting his hands together. “Problem solved!”
He flashed the younger twins an infuriatingly easy grin. “Now all you two gotta do is mosey on back to the Earth side and pull out the amulet.”
Dante blinked down at the broadsword in his arms. “Yeah, I guess… that’s it?” he said incredulously. It all seemed almost too easy.
“Not quite.” The older Vergil’s voice cut cleanly through the moment. He had gone completely still again, his sharp blue eyes fixed solely upon his younger counterpart. The look wasn’t hostile exactly, but it carried an intensity that made Dante’s stomach tighten instinctively.
Beside him, Vergil straightened almost unconsciously beneath the scrutiny. The two versions of his brother stared at one another in perfect silence.
Like mirrors. One untouched by time. The other carved hollow by it.
“You have something to say,” the older Vergil said at last.
Younger Vergil’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his blade's hilt.
“That power…” he murmured. His voice sounded quieter now. Focused. Reverent almost.
Dante followed his brother’s gaze instinctively toward the ruined battlefield behind them. Toward the craters left behind by demon kings. Toward the devastation the older twins had caused almost effortlessly.
“The power to defeat a demon king,” Vergil continued slowly. “To rule Hell.”
His eyes snapped back toward his older self. “You possess it.”
The older Vergil did not deny it. “I do.”
No arrogance. No pride. Just simple fact.
Dante suddenly found himself hating how calm the older version of his brother sounded.
Vergil stepped forward half a pace.
“How,” he demanded.
The word came out sharp. Hungry. “How do I gain this strength?”
“Oh boy…” the older Dante muttered under his breath somewhere beside them. “Here we go again.”
The older Vergil regarded his younger self silently. The winds of Makai howled softly around the group, carrying ash and embers through the ruined landscape while the fractured sky pulsed overhead.
Then he spoke. “The price for my power…” he said slowly, “is one steeped in pain and blood.” Something shifted subtly in his expression. “It is a path paved by sacrifice,” he continued carefully. “Not only my own… but of innocents as well.”
Dante blinked.
The older Dante’s grin had vanished entirely now.
Even Nero had gone quiet.
The older Vergil’s eyes never left his younger counterpart.
“I tore apart my own soul in pursuit of strength.” His voice lowered slightly. “And for that power… I lost everything.”
Silence fell heavily across the wasteland.
Dante stared at the older Vergil in disbelief.
Because somehow the worst part wasn’t the words themselves.
It was the complete absence of regret in the man’s voice. Only exhaustion.
“Are you prepared,” the older Vergil asked quietly, “to pay that price?”
Younger Vergil answered immediately.
“Yes.”
No hesitation, not even for a second.
“Now wait just a minute!” Dante snapped.
He grabbed for his brother’s arm instinctively, fingers tightening around the sleeve of Vergil’s coat. “Vergil, are you hearing this guy right now—?”
Vergil tore his arm free sharply. Dante flinched slightly at the sheer force behind it.
“You do not understand,” Vergil said coldly without looking at him.
“The hell I don’t.”
“You never have.”
The words hit harder than Dante expected.
For a second neither twin moved.
Then Dante looked up and found the older Vergil watching them both.
The man’s face remained carved from ice, perfectly unreadable beneath the dim glow of Makai’s shattered skies.
But his eyes— His eyes looked tired. Ancient.
And underneath that exhaustion Dante caught something else swimming there briefly. Something buried so deeply it almost didn’t look human anymore.
Grief.
The realization hit Dante with sudden brutal force.
This wasn’t just an older version of Vergil standing before him.
This was what happened to him.
This was the end of the road his brother was walking toward.
And somehow that hurt worse than anything else tonight.
Dante suddenly became horribly aware that he no longer understood the man standing beside him.
Maybe he hadn’t for a long time now.
The older Vergil’s gaze lingered on his younger self for one long silent moment more.
Then he looked away toward the distant horizon.
“Then you must walk this path alone,” he said.
His voice was calm again. Final.
“I cannot help you.”
For a second Vergil simply stared at him blankly. Then his expression cracked.
“What?”
The word came out almost violently.
Vergil surged forward abruptly, fury flashing across his face. “I cannot accept that.”
Dante tensed instantly but didn’t interfere this time.
“If you truly are a version of me,” Vergil continued sharply, “then you know exactly why I need this power.” His voice rose with every word. “You know what weakness costs. You know why I must become stronger.” Vergil’s eyes burned intensely now. “So tell me.”
The older Vergil finally looked back at him.
And at last, Dante understood the emotion hidden deep within those cold blue eyes.
Pity.
“No.” The older Vergil’s voice cut through the wasteland like a blade. Cold. Absolute.
“We are leaving.”
Before either of the younger twins could react, the olders blade flashed free from its sheath in one smooth motion. Blue light split the air. The older Vergil carved a glowing cross through space itself with effortless precision, the edges of reality peeling apart instantly beneath the blade. A massive portal bloomed open before him, swirling with cerulean light and unstable shadows.
Wind howled violently outward from the rift.
“Hold it!” Vergil’s voice cracked across the battlefield sharp with fury.
Dante barely had time to react before his brother lunged forward, blue energy flaring around him as rage finally shattered the last remnants of his composure.
“Vergil—!” Dante threw himself after him instinctively, wrapping both arms hard around his twin’s middle before he could break into a sprint. The force nearly tore Dante off his feet.
“Let go of me!” Vergil snarled violently, struggling against his grip hard enough to make Dante’s arms ache.
“Vergil wait!” Dante grunted, boots digging trenches through broken stone as he fought to hold him back. “Come on man, he already said no!”
Vergil barely seemed to hear him.
“You would deny me this?” he shouted toward the older version of himself. “After everything—!”
The older Vergil paused at the edge of the portal. For one long moment, he stood motionless beneath the swirling blue light, coat stirring softly in the hell wind.
Then he glanced back. The pity in his eyes was gone now. All that remained was that same distant, unreadable stillness. A man who had already buried things too painful to carry.
“If I told you,” the older Vergil said quietly, “you would still choose this path.”
Vergil froze. “And that,” his older self continued, “is precisely why I will not.”
The words landed like a killing blow.
Then, without another look, the older Vergil stepped through the portal.
The blue light swallowed him instantly.
“Come back!” the younger twin shouted hoarsely, surging forward hard enough that Dante nearly lost his grip entirely. “Come back you coward!”
“Easy! Jesus Christ—” Dante staggered sideways trying desperately to keep his brother restrained.
A heavy silence followed after the older Vergil vanished. Then the older Dante sighed.
“Man…” he muttered softly. “You really got the dramatic exits down, huh?”
The older man scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck before looking toward the struggling younger twin.
For the first time since arriving, the grin on his face looked genuinely strained.
“Sorry V…” he said. His voice was quieter now. Older somehow. “This is probably the last thing you want hear but…” His eyes flicked briefly toward the portal where his brother had disappeared. “I agree that you’re better off not knowing.”
A crooked smile tugged weakly at his mouth. “Trust me.”
Dante frowned slightly at that. Not because of the words themselves, but because for a split second, the older version of himself had looked sad. Really sad.
The older Dante gave them both one final lazy salute before turning around and stepping through the portal.
The swirling cerulean light cast strange shadows across his face right before he disappeared from sight.
Then only Nero remained.
The younger man lingered awkwardly beside the still-open rift, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.
For a second he looked like he wanted to say something and immediately regretted it.
His gaze drifted toward Vergil, and whatever he saw there made something in Nero’s expression tighten painfully.
“Power…” Nero said slowly. The word sounded careful. Measured. “It’s just a tool. A means to an end.”
Vergil had stopped struggling now. Dante still held onto him, though barely. More out of uncertainty than necessity.
Nero stepped forward slightly, blue eyes locked onto Vergil’s. There was something almost pleading in them.
“Please,” Nero continued softly. “Think about what you want.”
The winds of Makai howled around them.
“What you really want.”
His voice lowered even further.
“And be careful you don’t lose sight of the thing you’re trying to protect while searching for power.”
Vergil went completely still in Dante’s arms, something cracking beneath the surface.
Vergil’s eyes narrowed faintly. “What do you mean…?”
Nero hesitated.
For the first time since arriving, he suddenly looked nervous.
Not scared, just… emotional.
Like he was standing at the edge of something deeply personal and wasn’t sure if he should cross it.
Then slowly, painfully, Nero smiled. It was small and sad, almost wistful.
“For what it’s worth…” he murmured. “I believe in you, dad.”
Vergil’s eyes widened.
Dante felt his entire body go rigid beneath his grip.
And before either twin could even begin to process what had just been said—
Nero stepped backward into the portal.
The cerulean light collapsed inward instantly.
Then the rift snapped shut.
Leaving the two brothers alone beneath the shattered skies of Makai once more.
Vergil went completely slack in Dante’s arms. The sudden lack of resistance nearly sent them both stumbling. Dante loosened his grip automatically, staring at the empty space where the portal had vanished only seconds ago. His mind still felt like it had stalled somewhere back at dad.
“That…” Dante said weakly. “That’s your kid?”
Vergil didn’t answer. Slowly, almost mechanically, he sank down onto one knee against the ruined stone. His head bowed forward, silver bangs falling across his face as his blade’s tip touched the ground beside him with a soft metallic clink.
Dante had never seen him look like that before. Not angry or cold. Just… lost. Like someone had reached into his chest and ripped the foundation out from under him.
Dante swallowed awkwardly. “Vergil…” he started carefully.
No response.
The silence stretched painfully. Dante winced slightly before crouching halfway, one hand lifting uncertainly toward his brother’s shoulder. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say here.
Before he could decide, the world suddenly lurched violently beneath them. The entire landscape shook.
A deafening groan ripped through the air as massive fractures spiderwebbed across the blackened ground around them. Far above, the enormous rift splitting the skies of Makai pulsed erratically, unstable waves of purple energy crashing outward like a dying heartbeat.
“What’s going on?!” Dante barked. He staggered sideways as another tremor rocked the wasteland, one hand flying out instinctively to maintain balance while Rebellion scraped loudly against stone.
Chunks of rock began floating upward around them. The air itself distorted.
Vergil slowly lifted his head. “The rift between worlds is collapsing,” he murmured quietly. His voice sounded distant.
Dante frowned immediately. “Collapsing?”
Vergil pushed himself upright unsteadily, eyes lifting toward the fractured skies overhead. Purple light reflected across his face in jagged pulses.
“You must go now,” he said softly. “If you still intend to repair the barrier.”
Dante blinked. Then his expression hardened instantly.
“‘You’…” He straightened abruptly, grip tightening around the Devil Sword Sparda still clutched in his hands. “What do you mean ‘you’?”
Vergil finally looked at him fully. Blue eyes identical to his own, yet somehow farther away than they had ever been before.
“You’re coming with me,” Dante said firmly. “Right?”
For one horrible second, Vergil said nothing. Then slowly— “No.”
The word hit harder than Dante expected. Vergil turned his gaze back toward the endless wastelands of Makai stretching beyond them.
“No,” he repeated quietly. “My place is here.”
Dante stared at him blankly. “...What?”
Vergil’s eyes swept across the demon realm.
The shattered mountains.
The blackened skies.
The endless ruins stained with demonic blood.
“This, Dante…” he murmured. “This is my home.”
“Like hell it is!” Dante snapped immediately. Anger flared hot and sudden in his chest.
He stepped forward sharply, boots crunching against broken stone. “I’m not losing you, Vergil,” he growled. “Not again.”
Something flickered across Vergil’s expression at that, gone almost instantly. “Then you are welcome to stay,” Vergil replied calmly, a faint glint appearing in his eyes. “But we both know that isn’t happening.”
Dante’s jaw tightened. Another tremor shook the battlefield. High above them, the rift screamed louder.
“Why?” Dante demanded. The word came out rougher than he intended. Almost pleading. “Why choose this?”
Vergil was silent for a moment. Then he turned fully toward the ruined horizon once more.
“Because Hell is now without a ruler,” he said.
The winds of Makai howled softly around them.
“A power vacuum will soon form.”
Blue energy flickered faintly around his blade's sheath.
“And I intend to fill it.”
Dante felt his stomach drop.
Vergil’s expression remained perfectly calm.
“I will rule Makai as its next king,” he continued evenly. “And when the time comes…”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“I will lead my people to subjugate the human realm as well.”
Purple lightning crackled violently across the skies overhead.
“And reclaim my birthright.”
Silence.
Dante simply stared at him.
Waiting for the punchline.
It never came.
“You’re crazy,” Dante breathed.
Real disbelief bled into his voice now.
“I can’t…” He shook his head sharply. “I won’t let you.”
Vergil finally turned back toward him completely.
For the first time since the older twins had appeared, Dante thought he understood something.
The older Vergil hadn’t refused to help because he wanted to be cruel.
He refused because he already knew exactly where this road ended.
“Then I suppose this was inevitable,” Vergil said quietly.
His blade slid free from its sheath in one smooth motion.
The soft metallic hiss cut through the ruined wasteland like a death sentence.
Vergil raised the katana slowly, leveling its tip directly toward Dante.
“The brothers of blood disagree on the very reason for their existence,” he said.
Blue energy crackled faintly along the blade’s edge.
“They must fight.”
For a moment Dante said nothing.
Then slowly, he shifted his stance.
Rebellion rose in his grip.
The Devil Sword Sparda rested heavy against his back.
The winds screamed around them as the shattered skies of Makai burned overhead.
And across from him stood his brother.
Again.
“I’ll stop you, Vergil,” Dante said grimly.
His voice was quiet now.
Certain.
“I promise.”
Almost as though fate itself demanded it, the sons of Sparda clashed once more.
Steel screamed.
Blue and red light tore across the collapsing boundary between worlds as their blades met in an explosion of force violent enough to shake the heavens themselves. The ruined landscape of Makai split further beneath their feet while the portal overhead destabilized wildly, reality fracturing around the twins as they carved through demons and stone alike in their battle.
Again and again they met.
Brother against brother.
Sword against sword.
One fighting for humanity.
The other for power.
And somewhere deep down beneath the rage and grief and bloodshed, Dante realized with growing horror that neither of them truly wanted to kill the other.
But neither of them would back down either.
Not now.
Not anymore.
So they fought.
As they always did.
As they perhaps always would.
Hours later, Dante lay at the bottom of a crater in the middle of a destroyed New York street.
Rain poured from the night sky in heavy sheets, hissing softly against broken asphalt and scattered embers. The city around him had long since fallen silent. Buildings stood shattered in the distance, windows blown out from the shockwaves of the battle that had ripped through the streets hours earlier.
Dante barely noticed any of it.
Every inch of his body ached.
His coat was torn nearly to ribbons, blood mixing freely with rainwater as it streamed down the side of his face. Rebellion lay several feet away embedded into the pavement beside him, the blade silent now.
The portal to Makai had closed.
The barrier between worlds had been restored.
Humanity was safe.
And Vergil was gone.
Again.
Dante let out a weak laugh that sounded dangerously close to breaking apart halfway through.
Slowly, he lifted his right hand.
His mother’s amulet rested weakly in his palm, the gold scratched and cracked from the battle. Blood dripped from the edges of it steadily.
For a long moment, Dante simply stared at it.
Then finally, quietly, a tear slipped free.
It vanished into the rain almost instantly.
But the ache in his chest remained.
Because no matter the world.
No matter the timeline.
No matter what future awaited them—
He still couldn’t save his brother.