Vergil glared at nothing, rocking back and forth on the rusty metal horse. He always came here when he got sick of Dante's nagging, and today had been a particularly bad day. His little brother had no sense of space, no consideration for Vergil's things, not even understanding why he'd been so upset when the cup of juice poured all over Vergil's new book. At least it hadn't been the beautiful poetry book, but that didn't excuse it.

Even worse, Mother scolded him for making Dante cry as if his bratty little brother didn't deserve every angry word and a thrashing on top of that. It wasn't fair that she expected Vergil to accept Dante's antics just because he was older. Brother could get away with anything he wanted.

Vergil scrubbed his eyes and noticed the long shadows sprawling across the playground. The bottoms of the high gray clouds reflected a dim orange from the setting sun, and he shivered from the growing chill in the air. He should get back before Mother worried, even if he was still upset with her. His growling stomach reinforced the notion.

He slid off the spring mounted horse and into the loosely packed dirt. It wasn't a very long way back to the house, but something made him anxious. Vergil couldn't understand what it was until he heard a horrible, rasping moan behind him. A sound he'd heard only once before as a little, little boy cowering behind father's back. He would never forget it.

Spinning around, his eyes flew wide.

Demons! So many of them! Tall and hungry and stalking towards him. He backed away and realized they were trying to herd him, several shifting to his flanks so he had no choice where to go. His heart raced painfully fast, and Vergil could barely make himself move.

He couldn't fight them and doubted he could outrun them. What was he going to do? How had he not noticed their presence? How could he get away?

"Help…!" It came out as a choked whisper. He couldn't get a breath in, chest tight. "Someone…"

He was so afraid , crowded, outnumbered, but he managed to turn himself and stumbled away, tripping just in time for a blade to swing over his head. Vergil ran as fast as his trembling legs could go. He'd been right, though; he couldn't outrun them.

The sword pierced through his gut, and Vergil's knees buckled. His momentum carried him forward so the weapon slid out of his stomach, but icy shock took over for the burning pain as he fell.

Clutching his wound, Vergil rolled over and tried to crab backwards on his elbows. The demons towered over him while he gasped and shuddered. He was going to die. They were going to kill him. He was too weak to protect himself, so who would save Dante and Mother?

"P-please… Anyone…"

One of them lunged, and Vergil threw up his arms to cover his face. "Help me!" he cried, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Someone help!"

And then something strange happened.

Vergil didn't see it, but the sudden crackling snap, a burst of ozone smell, and a distorted demonic squeal froze him solid.

"Made it in time. Alright, you fucks!"

Vergil peered between his raised arms at the broad back blocking his view of the demons. Father?! No, not Father, but…

The stranger was very tall, muscular, and carrying a heavy greatsword. He planted the blade's tip into the ground and cranked the handle until an engine roared and flames spewed up the side. It was unlike anything Vergil had ever seen.

"Let's dance," the stranger demanded, and dance he did.

Mouth hanging open in amazement, Vergil watched the man whirl and spin, tumbling through the air with brutal grace. He hacked the demons into pieces like they were nothing to him, and the battle was over so quickly that Vergil didn't have time to process it.

The stranger's growling blade sunk into the earth again, this time with the man leaning heavily on it. His head hung low, and he breathed harder than Vergil would've expected from his easy performance.

Cautiously, Vergil pushed to his feet. His stomach ached, but when he poked at the wound it had stopped bleeding and felt smaller. "Thank you--"

Vergil took a wobbly step back when the stranger abruptly raised his head.

The intensity of those blue eyes was hard to look away from, but the rest of his face left Vergil so stunned he managed to break eye contact just to take it all in. No wonder he had mistaken this man at first. White hair, though cut short. Pale skin. The jaw, the nose. Much younger, but yet so similar.

"Did Father send you?" Vergil asked. He hated how his words broke at the end, cracking upward in pitch.

The stranger blinked at him and shoved himself upright. "Uh, yeah, sure. He sent me to get you out of here. Where's Dante and your mom?"

"They're…home." Vergil wondered if he was right to trust this man, but he had slain the demons.

"Right. That's right," the stranger muttered. He seemed to collect himself and stepped very close to Vergil, reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Lemme see that. How bad is it?"

"It hurts, but…" Vergil fell silent while the man inspected his injury, a frown pulling at his mouth. It was so odd, but that expression reminded Vergil less of Father and more of the face that confronted him each day in the mirror.

Satisfied, the stranger nodded. "Glad your healing kicked in earlier than mine did. If it gets too bad, let me know, okay? But we've got to hurry."

"What's happening?" Vergil asked. "I want to know."

The man stared at him like he was about to speak but got distracted by whatever he saw. His shoulders slumped, and Vergil watched weariness and profound grief sweep him away for a moment. Like a hero from the legend he'd read who returned to a home he no longer knew.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Vergil," the stranger said, voice infinitely kind and comforting. His cool, calloused hand brushed the hair off Vergil's forehead. "I won't let them hurt you this time."

Inhaling, Vergil blinked in surprise. How was he supposed to respond to that? What did it all mean?

Kneeling with his back to Vergil, the stranger glanced over his shoulder. "Hop on. Your legs are too short to keep up right now, and I don't want your wound to reopen."

Vergil balked. He wasn't some little kid needing to be carried. He could handle himself. But the man kept peering at him, eyes piercing, so he climbed up until he clung to the strong neck.

Suddenly they were moving incredibly fast. Inhumanly fast, and Vergil felt the leashed energy under his finger tips. This man was like him and Dante, born of devil blood and blessed with all the powers that offered. It was familiar. Soothing. Vergil's suspicions were hard to hold on to when faced with this.

"Who are you?" Vergil asked.

The stranger didn't reply immediately. "Are we close to the house?" he said.

"Yes." Vergil tightened his grip on the padded blue jacket. "Just up this way." Something about this still didn't feel entirely right. He wondered if it was the odd tremors shivering through the man's muscles or the power fluctuating wildly under his palms. "Are you okay?"

"I will be once you're safe."

Oh. The stranger really was here to protect him. He couldn't understand the feelings that provoked in him. Vergil felt safe. And sad. Why would he be sad? Just who was this man?

The stranger slowed when they reached a fork in the path. "Which way?"

"To the right," Vergil instructed.

He could see the house now. The inviting doorway sat just ahead of them, but Vergil gasped in horror. Demons, even more than at the playground, swarming all over their home. The glow of a fire starting in the rafters put a cold stone in his throat.

" Shit ," the stranger said, increasing his speed. They'd be there in no time, but the seconds felt like an eternity.

"Vergil! Where are you, Vergil?!"

Mother's terrified voice turned his stomach, and Vergil would have called out to her if he wasn't tossed to the ground. He rolled a bit, not hurt in the slightest, and he understood what had happened when he sat up at the sound of Mother's scream.

The stranger had dropped Vergil behind one of the trees and continued at blinding speed right into the mass of demons. Mother recoiled toward the doorway when a burst of demonic energy flooded the area. Vergil could only watch the transformed stranger in slack jawed awe.

The devil-blooded man was incredibly, overwhelmingly powerful. His glowing arms shredded demons as if they were made of paper, his sword cutting through them equally fast. Vergil jumped when the gun he pulled from seemingly nowhere fired loudly enough to make his small ears ring even at this distance.

One of the demons shoved a spear through the man's chest, and he staggered. Mother cried out again, clinging to the threshold, but he sliced off the spearpoint and bashed the monster into the ground. It didn't take long to finish the demons when they attempted to pile on and drag the stranger down. He tore the last one's throat out with his claws and swayed. The power bled off him slowly, like crumbling petals. It was all terribly beautiful to Vergil's eyes.

Mother startled at the sight of him, and Vergil knew she saw what he had. Father. Father's face, only a little different and much younger. She reached for the man when he started to pitch forward, saying something Vergil couldn't hear. The stranger shook his head and regained his feet.

Vergil darted from his hiding place, and the movement must've caught Mother's eye because she immediately focused on him. She knelt and wrapped her arms so tight around him that he almost couldn't breathe.

"Vergil! Oh, Vergil, I was so scared!"

"Where's Dante?" the stranger said. "We need to--" He broke off on a coughing fit, turning away from them and wheezing until he cleared his lungs. "W-we need to go. Now."

"Are you alright?" Mother asked. She tried to place a hand on the man's arm, but he stepped back from her.

"More of those things are coming," he warned. "Grab your stuff and make it fast. We have to leave."

She stared at him for a moment before retreating into the house. Mother opened the wardrobe in the foyer, and Dante barreled out of the coats and into her stomach. "Mom, Mom! I heard you scream!"

Her soft hands smoothed back Dante's hair, and she smiled tolerantly at him. "I'm fine thanks to this gentleman, but we need to leave right away. Go grab your sword. Be quick. You too, Vergil."

His sword. The Yamato. Father's last gift to him sitting in pride of place in his room, wrapped up and waiting for the day he was strong enough to wield it. Mother had asked them to leave the weapons be until the time came, but if they were going away…

"Whoa!" Dante skidded to a halt to gawk at the stranger. "You look like--"

"Dante," Mother said with uncharacteristic sharpness. "You need to hurry. The fire is spreading."

The brothers ran up the stairs, Dante a few steps behind Vergil. He could feel the heat of the flames making the air stifling, and Vergil knew that the stranger was right. They didn't have much time.

He snatched the Yamato from its mount, seeing Dante do the same with the Rebellion, but paused when his twin scrambled out the door. Surely one more item wouldn't be that much of a burden? He grabbed the embossed, leather bound poetry book and hurried after his brother.

Mother talked with the stranger by the front door. Her expression was serious, almost fearful, and Vergil thought he saw pain flash briefly across the man's face. Was he injured? The wound he'd suffered hadn't bled that much. They both looked up when the brothers ran down the stairs towards them.

"Let's go," the stranger said. He didn't wait for them to agree, heading out the door and down the walkway at a pace Vergil could barely match.

Mother stayed in the back, Dante and Vergil between her and the man. Vergil glanced back at her and noted the crease on her brow. Her eyes stayed on the cropped white hair of the one who led them across the estate grounds and to the tunnel that should have been a secret to anyone that father hadn't shown the trick to it.

The stranger muttered under his breath and groped along the rock until he found the catch. A grinding noise accompanied the entrance opening, and all too quickly they descended into the dark.

"Fu-- I mean, does anyone have a light?" the stranger asked.

His embarrassed grimace brought a laugh out of Mother. She traced a symbol in the air and four glowing orbs sprung forth to push back the gloom. "One for each of us," she said. "Try not to move too quickly or they might not be able to keep up."

"Nice, thanks," the stranger said. He motioned them on, and they struck out in their marching order.

There was silence for all of ten minutes before Dante started in. "Who are you?" he asked.

The stranger glanced at him. "Don't worry about it. I'm just here to make sure you get to safety."

"Why did you come?" Dante prodded. "Did Dad send you? Is he okay? Is he coming--"

"Uh, no," the stranger admitted, sending a regretful look to Vergil as if his deception hadn't been obvious before. "He didn't, but you've got other people looking out for you, and they sent me back."

"Other people? What other people? Do we know other people--?"

Vergil expected the stranger to yell about Dante's prattling when he whirled around, but instead he shoved Dante and Vergil into Mother's arms as a heavy, saw-toothed axe caught him in the side.

"Son of a bitch!" the man hollered, eyes gleaming gold with his demonic power. He yanked the axe out of his flank and sent red blood spattering on the stone of the tunnel. Vergil tried to get his hands around the Yamato, but the stranger's feathered arms caught the demon firmly.

"Yeah, no way pal," the man growled.

Vergil jumped when he smashed the monster into the ground, growls and hisses filling the cavern. The stranger launched himself into the dark, much too fast for the ambling orb of light to follow. There was a cacophony of thumps and shrieks and a voice swearing, "Ow! Bastard!" A quick flash illuminated the struggle, and the thundering crack of a gun preceded a demonic body falling into the glow of Mother's lights. It steamed and dissolved.

Then it was quiet and still. They held their breaths.

"Everyone okay--?"

Dante screamed at the stranger's sudden reappearance, sagging in relief when he realized who it was. "Geez! Don't scare us like that!" he whined.

"Never took you for being a jumpy kid," the stranger laughed. "Com'on. I cleared them out."

Mother grabbed his shoulder. "You're hurt," she said, and Vergil saw fresh blood staining his shirt and pants. "You should at least let me look at your wounds."

"No time. And don't worry about me." The man's smile was warm and fond in a way that made Vergil's chest tight. "I'll be fine."

Her mouth pulled taut, but Mother let go after a few seconds of studying. She didn't say more, and they resumed their brisk pace through the tunnel. No one spoke after that, just following the stranger down the corridor, echoing footsteps the only sounds. They passed a strange contraption with a stylized statue of Father and pools of liquid that Vergil suspected to be blood. Down and up, winding through. It felt like they walked for hours, but Vergil couldn't be sure. His sense of time was completely off, though the aching in his soles certainly lent credence to the length of time.

"Mom, how much farther--" Dante started, and the stranger drew up short.

"Hey, we're almost to the end," the man said, turning to them. "Let's take a quick break. I could use it." He sank down heavily on a rock and stretched his legs out in front of him.

Cautiously, glancing first at Mother who found another boulder where she and Dante perched, Vergil sat next to the stranger. He fumbled a bit with the Yamato before finding a comfortable position for his weapon. Soft laughter drew his gaze up.

The stranger sported a crooked grin. "It's a little big for you yet, huh?"

Vergil knew he was scowling when the man's grin got bigger. "I'll learn how to use it. I just need some practice."

"And a foot plus of extra height." The laughter was less soft now but not unkind. "Don't worry. You're gonna do some incredible things with that sword. Be a total badass."

He sounded so sure .

"...I haven't been able to do anything. I'm… weak."

It was quiet for a moment, and Vergil glanced up at the man again. An understanding shone in his eyes. "You're a kid. It's not your job to be strong. Not like that. The adults around you should have-- should be looking out for you." He smiled again, gentle and familiar. "Wanting to protect the people close to you is an amazing thing, but let me worry about protecting you guys for now. You'll kick ass later, I promise."

Some of the knot in his throat unraveled, and Vergil tried to return his smile. It got easier when the stranger squeezed his shoulder in a confident hand.

Rising to his feet, the man moved to Dante and crouched down. "How're you holding up, huh?"

Little brother stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "My house burned down, and my feet hurt. It's not great ."

The stranger ruffled Dante's hair. "That does suck, but you're being pretty chill about it. Keeping your head on straight during a crisis is a really useful talent."

Dante straightened up at the praise. "Yeah. I am good at not freaking out."

Both Mother and the man laughed at that.

"You're being very brave," Mother said. "Vergil too." Then her eyes pinned the man in a way that Vergil knew a little too well. "May I have a word with you?"

He blew out a sigh, hesitated, nodded, and followed Mother over to a corner that only became lit when the magical orbs drifted after them. Vergil couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance, but he watched their posture. The stranger planted his hands on his hips for a moment before dropping them. Mother crossed her arms, one hand gripping the other forearm tightly. A head shake. A nod. Frowns exchanged.

It was serious but didn't tell him anything he didn't know. Vergil blinked when one of the light spheres floated behind the stranger's back.

Rust. There was rust all down the edge of the man's greatsword. It seemed out of place with the way a seasoned warrior would treat their weapon, and even more strange, Vergil could swear it had been pristine before. And the back of his jacket looked worn thin, almost threadbare. He didn't remember that from when he'd been carried on the man's back. Almost like the stranger was… falling apart.

Vergil shook his head. That was ludicrous . Wasn't it?

"Okay!" The man clapped his hands together, a much more forced smile on his face now. "We're almost out of here. You folks ready?"

Mother hadn't lost her frown, but she collected Dante and Vergil to follow in their savior's wake. He'd been right that they were close to the exit, and he motioned for them to wait when they got to the steep climb that led out. Vergil looked dubiously at the sheer surface.

The stranger winked at him. "Don't worry. Just let me check things out topside, and then I'll help you out." With an easy leap, he cleared the distance and disappeared.

And they waited. And waited. And waited more. Dante opened his mouth after what seemed like forever only to snap it closed when they heard a heavy 'clang' from above. A demonic shriek had Mother shoving them both behinder her, then the only sound was their harsh breathing in the cavern.

"Sorry about the wait!"

Dante choked back a shout when the man's pale head popped into view. "You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?!"

"Maybe a little." He grinned down at them, but Vergil thought there was something strained about it. "Dante, com'on. You first."

One of the glowing arms stretched all the way down, a massive clawed hand laying out flat and open. Cautiously, Dante climbed on while clutching the Rebellion still wrapped in its pure white cloth. With obvious care, the man raised little brother over the lip of the cave.

"That's so cool!" Dante said. "I hope I get arms like these."

"Maybe you'll get something cooler. Like four wings!" The man looked down again. "Your turn, Vergil. Hop on up."

Laying a hand on the ethereal limb, Vergil was surprised to find it warm and soft. Not at all what the translucence led him to expect. The talons cupped him so gently that Vergil couldn't help but be amazed by the stranger's control. These same wicked claws had torn apart demons so ferociously, so brutally, and yet were also capable of making him feel safe.

He missed the warmth when he was set on his feet next to his brother. This night was already so cold.

"And up you go too," the man said. He used both arms to raise Mother up and out, one hand acting as a platform and the other positioned for her to steady herself. "Everyone good? We need to keep moving."

Eva stopped him as he made to leave. She frowned when part of his sleeve came undone at her touch. "You're bleeding again. Give me a moment, and I can patch you up."

"I'm fine. We really don't have time."

Her frown dropped into a scowl, brows creasing. She stared at him with an intensity that made Vergil squirm. "Time, hmm. I… I think I see. I'm sorry."

It was a strange look they passed between them, but the stranger led the way down the hill and into the city. They walked for a while, ducking through alleys, avoiding places that would be crowded even at night. Once or twice, the man raised a hand and made the wait before they sprinted pell-mell across a street and into another alley. Steadily they headed to the edge of the city, and all the while, Vergil watched the rust spread across the sword on his back. It meant something, he was sure. Something bad.

The stranger stuck his head around a corner and suddenly pulled back. "Shit," he hissed. He glanced at Eva. "Stay here. Don't make a--"

A warbling cry split the air, and the man moved like lightning to intercept the huge arm that tried to smash him into a brick wall. Vergil flinched when he heard the crack of metal from the greatsword, and he got a look at what lay beyond the corner. Dead bodies. Human bodies with wide, empty eyes. Faces frozen in fear at the moment of their death. One's rib cage had been cracked open by a gore-drenched monster that switched its focus to them. Desperately, Vergil shoved Dante and Mother backward to distance themselves from the fight.

With a scream of rending steel, almost sounding like a dying animal in its own right, Vergil watched in horror as the man's sword broke under the demon's single-minded assault. Fury swept over their protector's face, and he jammed the jagged remains into the skull of the monster, twisting the handle until flames ignited. He jumped back far enough to not be caught in the inferno, but he didn't stop moving. He unleashed his devil form and fought , viscous and determined, relentless.

The pack of demons fell to his strength, but at the end of the fight, the stranger stayed doubled over for a long moment, hand pressed to his side. Vergil felt uneasy at the sight of blood soaking down the stranger's pant leg. He had power like Father's. Shouldn't he be healing such wounds? And his sword!

"You are not fine," Mother said. She reached for his hand, probably to inspect the wound. "You've done so much for us. I'm not just just going to stand by while you--"

He looked at her, and Mother froze. The man was turned away from Vergil, so he couldn't see whatever held her wide-eyed gaze, leaving him wondering at the sorrow dawning over her face. Her fingers stayed closed over his wrist for a few more seconds before she withdrew.

"We need to keep going," she said softly. And that was all that was said on the matter.

Pulling his unraveling sleeve down to protect himself from the heat, the man yanked his broken blade free from the smoldering demon's corpse. He let out a sigh and whispered sadly to the sword, "Thank you for getting me this far. Not much longer now."

Then they walked for a long time, and not even Dante dared to disturb the somber silence. Vergil's sense of wrongness grew by the minute, punctuated by every faltering step the stranger took. He watched the broad back that had seemed impervious just a short time ago begin to bow, and after nearly an hour, when they'd made it to the edge of the city, the man's pace had slowed to a crawl, his whole side stained bright with unending blood.

"That's enough," Mother said. She caught the stranger's arm and led him to a big tree. With resigned heaviness, the man slid down against it and let his broken sword rest next to him. It was utterly covered in rust.

"You… can make it from here," he said. "There's a bus stop just a ways down. You need to get out of this city, change your names. Go into hiding."

"It's Mundus, isn't it?" Mother asked.

The stranger took a deep, shuddering breath. "...Yeah. He's on to you, but I think you can avoid him if you're careful."

Mother watched him, fingers fisting in her shawl. After a while she knelt. The realization of what was about to happen settled over Vergil's shoulders like an icy, sodden blanket. He'd pieced it together, and something unpleasant twisted in his stomach.

The man had sacrificed himself. For them. They'd only known him for such a short time, but he was giving his life, and Vergil had no idea why.

"You might have lived if you didn't fight for us," Mother said.

The stranger smiled at her. "This isn't your fault. I wasn't going to make it anyway."

Her lips pursed. "You could have survived a little longer, at least."

"What would be the point of that?" he said lightly. He sounded so tired. "I've already lost everything I had. I wanted to make sure that didn't happen to you."

"Still," she insisted. "Isn't there something, someone you should get back to?"

He shook his head, sad but satisfied. "I don't regret this. There's nothing left for me… anymore."

"Mom…" Dante tugged at her sleeve. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Helpless anger stabbed through Vergil, irritation that his brother could be so naive, guilt that a stranger had been the one to protect their family instead of Father's oldest son. "He's dying , Dante," Vergil snapped. "Can't you see that?"

"Enough," the man scolded, and Vergil ducked his head. "You two… You need to take care of each other, okay?" His breath rattled, but he watched the brothers intently. "Promise me you'll do that."

Dante nodded vigorously, not even considering what he was saying. "Yeah! Of course!"

It was hard to meet those eyes, so similar to Father's, because Vergil understood what he was agreeing to better than his brother did. How could he deny their savior his last request, though? "Yes. I will. I promise."

The man smiled again, a bead of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Mother held him steady while his wet cough wracked through his body. "V-Vergil." Straightening up, Vergil listened carefully. "You gotta keep an eye on your brother. He'll do some stupid stuff, so you'll have to bail him out."

"Hey!" Dante protested. He immediately settled when the stranger grinned at him.

"And you need to stick with him . He thinks he's the smart one, but that doesn't mean he won't do something dumb too. If you're with him, though, everything will be fine." He took another deep, unsteady breath. "If you stay together, it'll be okay."

Mother brushed the hair back from his sweaty forehead. "You need to rest. You'll exhaust yourself like this."

"Doesn't matter now," he murmured. His eyes were falling closed, and Vergil didn't know why that filled him with such dread. "You should go. Get out… while it's still safe."

She wrapped his hand in her own. "We have time, thanks to you. I'm not going to leave you alone after all you did for us." He didn't speak, just sagging a little further against the tree. It was so very quiet other than the harsh sound of his breathing. Vergil clutched the Yamato and his book a little tighter. He hadn't been able to do anything to help. He'd been useless. He never wanted to feel like this again.

"Will you tell us your name now?" Mother asked. "Please?"

The blue eyes cracked open slightly, just for a second. He didn't answer at first, and Vergil started to think he never would -- or couldn't.

"Nero," the stranger finally sighed. "My name… is Nero."

Mother leaned in and kissed his temple, bringing his hand to her chest. "Thank you, Nero. For everything."

Minutes dragged on, made so much longer by the ghastly anticipation, but Vergil didn't take his eyes off this man. They owed him so much, their very lives, their future. It seemed disrespectful to turn away. Dante started to sniffle, which was when Vergil realized the stranger wasn't breathing anymore, and Mother carefully laid the hand she'd been holding on his stomach. She wiped her eyes.

Vergil refused to cry. That seemed disrespectful too.

"You two wait over there for me, please. I'll bury him." Mother said. She rose to her feet, trying to smile for them.

"We… We should bury him with his sword," Vergil said. "I read that's what they used to do for warriors a long time ago." He couldn't remember where he'd seen that just right now, but he knew it was true. It felt right.

"Yes, let's do that." Mother picked up the heavy, crumbling sword the stranger had fought with. She struggled to lift even the remains but managed to place it across his torso and folded his hands over the hilt. Then she stepped back and made a complicated gesture, moving her whole body in a waving pattern. Mother never used her magic so often, though Vergil always knew she had some. Slowly the earth swallowed the stranger's body, stones and dirt and roots shifting until he sank out of sight. As if he'd never been there at all.

That felt wrong.

Dante pointed to the tree. "Can we put his name here? Like a gravestone?"

"That's a wonderful idea," Mother said. Using her fingertip and speaking a spell quietly, she traced along the bark, leaving a deep indent.

'NERO,' it said, indelibly carved into the old tree. Vergil stared at it until he was sure that name was burned into his mind.

He would never, ever forget.

Epilogue

Eleven Years Later

"I can't wait to see her face," Dante said.

Vergil glanced at his brother, taking in how relaxed he looked with his hands behind his head. If only he could be that calm too. "You don't think she'll be angry?"

"Hm, maybe a little, but only because you didn't tell her."

"I didn't know ."

"She'll forgive you," Dante assured. "Besides. I think it's cool."

Vergil heaved a sigh and stared at the house in front of him. "You would," he muttered with no real heat.

"Man, that got a little crazy. Who knew we'd have to fight a whole creepy cult in the middle of all that? I'd say none of this would've happened if you didn't break your promise, but you did contact me, so I think that counts as only breaking it a little," Dante said. 

He grinned, but Vergil heard the censure all the same. He couldn't blame his brother, really. All the worst moments of his life were when they'd abandoned that promise to watch over each other.

"Besides," Dante continued, "your trip did give you a pretty great souvenir."

Vergil grimaced. "A souvenir . Really, brother, must you?"

Dante's laughter soothed his soul just as it always did. Vergil should have known better than to strike out on his own even if it was to research what had become of their father. Fortuna had been a mess, one he couldn't bring himself to regret.

Hopefully Mother would agree.

A plume of welcoming smoke drifted from the chimney of the little cottage they were fast approaching, the garden out front in full bloom. It was a far cry from the manor in Red Grave, but it was one of the homes they'd occupied that Vergil had liked the most. The door opened just as they passed through the outer gate.

"There you are!" Mother cried. She hurried towards them, clearly holding herself back from outright running. "I was starting to worry when you didn't call."

"The long-distance cost from that island was insane! It's like they'd never heard of payphones either," Dante said.

Vergil ducked his head and adjusted the bundle in his arms nervously. "I'm sorry, Mother. I should have tried to contact you sooner."

"That would've been nice," she said, but she smiled at him. All was forgiven as usual. For the moment.

"There is one thing I need to tell you," Vergil started slowly. He fidgeted under her expectant stare. "You see… While I was there… something… happened…"

Dante snorted and poked his shoulder. "Geez, bro, this is gonna take all day if you keep on like that. The kid'll get hungry."

Mother's stare changed, green eyes intense. "Did I hear you say ' kid '?"

Vergil cleared his throat and tried to ignore Dante's stupid, gleaming grin in his peripheral vision. "Yes, about that. It's a bit of a long story, and I will tell you everything, but the most important thing, is this."

With great care, Vergil pulled aside the soft black blanket, and Mother gasped. She looked from the sweet rounded face to her eldest son and back. "Y-you… This is…?"

"Your grandson," Vergil said. He tried to gauge her real feelings, but it was hard when she was reeling from the shock.

"Oh," she whispered. "Oh, look at him! He's beautiful, Vergil!"

He breathed a sigh of profound relief. Then she pinched his ear hard.

"You should have called," she said. "And you certainly will tell me everything as soon as we get him settled." Mother paused then, peering down at her grandson again. "What's his name?"

Vergil hesitated but Dante's encouraging gesture bolstered him. "I wanted to name him Nero, because I want him to be like..."

Explaining his feelings was far harder than he expected, but Mother's expression melted into something soft, perhaps even a little teary. "That's a wonderful name, Vergil. I think he would've been honored to have your son named after him."

Oh. Well, yes, he might have wondered about that at some point. Briefly. Longer than briefly, really. It was comforting to believe the stranger would have felt that way, at least.

"Hey, Mom, we're starving. Any chance we're in time for lunch?" Dante asked, ever thinking with his stomach.

Her smile broadened, and Mother lifted her skirt as she turned to head back into the house. "As it so happens, I just finished making a lovely salad with vegetables from the garden."

"Awww, really? A salad ?" Dante whined, following along.

"Yes, but once you finish that, there's some strawberry cheesecake leftover from last night you can have."

Dante perked up, his step lightening. "Well, I guess I can live with that. Haven't had your cheesecake in a while!"

"Go set the table, then," Mother urged, and Dante darted past her through the door. She stopped and turned to Vergil.

"I really am sorry," he said. "I didn't expect to be away so long, and then I--"

Her fingers running through his hair stopped him from babbling. "It's alright. I understand why you left, and while I do expect to hear this whole story, I'm just glad that you're safe." She looked down at Nero and stroked her thumb across his chubby cheek. "And it's a little hard to be mad about having such a cute grandson even if I'm still completely shocked."

Vergil smiled at his son too, reveling in his thriving weight. "Thank you. I know I'm going to need your help, but… thank you."

Mother lay her hand on his back and gently ushered Vergil inside. "Welcome home, son. And welcome home, Nero."

As the door closed behind him, Vergil knew this was only the start of a difficult new chapter of his life. He would have so much to do, so much to teach his son. So much for his son to teach him. But right now, it was just good to be home again.

Epilogue 2

Twenty-Four Years Later

The growl of an engine coming to a halt outside Devil May Cry's front doors brought Vergil's head up from the documents he'd been studying, and Eva glanced towards the entrance. It was unfamiliar. And loud.

"The hell is that ?" Dante asked, peering through the window. "That van looks like-- Hah! He's back!"

Without explanation, Dante yanked open the door and dashed out. Vergil shot a glance to Eva who shrugged and followed her youngest curiously. Well, what might this be?

It all made sense the moment she saw Nicoletta gesturing at the van and proudly explaining some modification she'd made to it. Dante nodded sagely, but the tiny furrow of his brow told Eva that he wasn't quite following the excited exposition. None of that mattered much to Vergil, however. He was looking for someone else.

A large box dropped out of the rear doors of the van, Nero's aborted cursing accompanying it. "Son of a bi--- I mean, fu--- I mean… Sorry!"

Eva laughed. "You're an adult now. You can swear if you want to, sweetie. Now, leave that be and get out here. It's been a year since you went to Fortuna. I want to see my grandson already!"

A year. It really had been a year. Eva joined Vergil, eagerly waiting. Her wonderful grandson hopped out of the van and grinned.

Vergil and Eva stared.

"Holy crap," Dante said. "What the goddamn hell…?"

Nero frowned and ran his fingers through his now very short hair. "It's not that bad, is it? I mean, Kyrie likes it, and it doesn't get in my way so much…"

Eva was the first to recover. "It's not the hair, dear. Or not just that."

No. It was everything. The padded blue coat. The heavy, shining sword hanging from his back. The shorn silver hair and defined jaw taken right from their past.

"H-how is this possible?" Vergil said. 

"Uh, are you guys ok?" Nero asked. 

Eva blew out a shaky breath. She had felt the touch of ancient magic clinging to the stranger all those years ago, of time and fate and everlasting bonds rent in twain. That kind of magic took a horrible toll. It ate those audacious enough to twist time to their will until they decayed into dust, just like all things in the end.

Eva had no doubt the stranger had known that, and that he had made a choice . Not so different from how he was now, brave and kind to a fault. Nero had chosen to sacrifice his life to give them all, himself included, a second chance. Every tome she'd ever read about time-manipulation magic said the pain involved was indescribable. Eva wondered what future had been so terrible that he'd felt the need to endure it.

The thought of her grandson suffering so much made her heart ache.

Nero chewed his lip and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Is no one going to tell me what's going on? I mean, I know Uncle Dante's just like that, but--"

"Hey!" his uncle complained.

"--But you two usually let me know if something bad is--"

Eva cupped his cheek. "It's okay," she said. "Everything is fine now. You're here with us again. All of us, together."

Thanks to him, to this boy -- a man grown now. A weighty debt that they had perhaps repaid in a way their family never anticipated. Nero smiled nervously and covered her hand with his own, calloused and warm, not like the cold skin of one living on stolen time. Vergil gripped his son's elbow, and Dante slung an arm over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it," Dante said. "Let's get this stuff inside and have a welcome home party. Mom made cheesecake, and I saved a slice for you!"

Nero laughed under their touch, relaxing. "Okay, okay. I know you well enough that if I wait you'll just eat it."

"I wouldn't!" Dante cried.

"Oh, yes, you would," Vergil muttered.

Eva stepped back to give them room, reveling in their easy banter, Vergil and Dante teasing each other and Nero joining in with Nico adding her particular brand of commentary. This life, this second chance. Together.

Yes. There was no point in dwelling on what might have been when their family was together.

If you enjoyed the story, please consider checking out this absolutely incredible artwork of the first scene by Tumblr user fevredayz!: https://www.tumblr.com/fevredayz/782753810108006400/the-stranger-was-very-tall-muscular-and-carrying?source=share