Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

Vergil vs Vergil

A/N: I don't really prefer Ninja Theory's DmC, but there is still definitely important lessons to be learnt from Alternate Dante and Alternate Vergil (like how swearing and sleeping around isn't going to make you a happy man, and if you shoot a pregnant woman, you piss off a demon king). The story presents a rather balanced fight because when you actually look at the facts, DmC Vergil (pre-DLC) and DMC3 Vergil are actually quite on equal grounds in terms of fight. This is of course debatable, but my personal bias is always DMC3 Vergil, so...

[Vergil vs Vergil]

"Things never go easy for sons of Sparda, huh?" Vergil Sparda muttered to himself under his breath, stashing yet another book back on the shelf, disgusted that the library had simply lumped a tome of demonic lore together with fairy tales of vampires and spectres. The librarians had quite literally stashed non-fiction books amongst the other fictional stories and though it should not matter to him, it still irritated him very much when it interrupted in his research. Of course, Vergil did not expect research to be as simple as sitting in front of a computer and typing 'How to open a Hell Gate' into the search bar, but neither had he been expecting to be looking for clues in fairy tales tucked in the fictional sections of libraries. His patience was quickly reaching its end as Vergil grabbed at another book named 'The Legend of Mundus, the king of demons, and Sparda'.

The title itself disgusted Vergil, and neither did the contents of the so-called 'legend' impress him. With only sparse truth scattered and hiding behind stories of grandeur and glory, Vergil became only increasingly disgusted with increasing descriptions of magnificence, and even angel-like wings on the Demon King.

Ridiculous. With patience that had clearly reached its end, Vergil slammed the book shut before another slandering word could be read, chucking it back on the shelf as if it were acid to the touch. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. He was temporarily almost tempted to burn down the author's house and publisher's building to prevent more of such sickening things from appearing ever again. In fact, why was he bothering  to hold himself back?

Feet turned away from the shelf with the clear intention to do exactly what he imagined, but Vergil Sparda was unable to make too many steps, for ahead of him was a shimmering atmosphere that he had never seen before. The only sign of caution coming from him, however, was the tightening of grip on his trusty sword by his side, finger lightly resting on the hilt of his sword.

Demons? It did not seem like it, for demons that Vergil was used to tended to appear suddenly, breaking through reality like shattering glass. This slow shimmering of atmosphere did not ring any bells of familiarity, but Vergil supposed that the demons sent his way could possibly still be on the upgrade at any time.

His preparation for a fight, however, did not reap results when someone stepped out of the translucently shimmering atmosphere, closing the portal in his wake with a hint of black-blue mist.

The man wore a tilted fedora with tufts of white hair peeking around the hairline. Stunning blue eyes and an exquisite set of model-like features held an expression of stark surprise while he scanned Vergil up and down the same way Vergil was doing to him. A body-hugging three-quarter coat hugged a lean frame with a popped collar and equally fitting pants matched his outfit. What was most striking, however, was the fact that the man held a sword that looked eerily similar to his. A little darker in colour of sheath and hilt, the katana that the man held boasted similarities to his own Yamato that Vergil could neither deny nor ignore.

"You are not human." The man spoke in a mid-range tenor, a sentence made that could easily have been mistaken as a question.

"Neither are you." Vergil simply answered. "If you are another demon sent here by Mundus, then you had best prepare to return from where you came from."