Chapter 1: The Lady In Red

Yamato smoothly glided against the opening of its sheath, twisting and then finding its home as it slid in– a satisfying metallic clack resonating in Vergil's ears. The cloak that he had momentarily discarded gently floated down, his hand swinging upwards to catch it at an inhuman speed. He quickly wrapped the tattered cloth around him as he noticed a crowd of humans beginning to populate the street. 

He set his sights on the giant dome set in the middle of the city. He had come to this city to learn more of its secrets. With it being an isolated island city, much was unknown from an outside point of view. Normally, something like this might have been a fleeting fancy for him– unless he could confirm it to be of use to him and his search for more power, he would have skipped over it. As soon as he heard mention of his sire, Sparda, however, he was convinced to see it for himself.

Aside from the sudden assault of scarecrows, the city seemed unassuming. From a first glance, one would mistake it for a normal town– not a hub for a militant religion that worshiped a demon. He walked easily among the people; painfully average humans, the same one might find in any other city. He scoffed to himself as he continued his stride, his hopes for this town housing secrets behind his father's power quickly dwindling. Vergil held hope that his mind might change once he got a look at the military force.

Not only did they worship his father, but they were entirely weaponized to destroy demons. He mused at the Order's true intentions, no religion built upon the ideals of a demon could have spelled pure intentions– especially that of humans. Surely they had to have something promising within their orginazation's walls, and he was determined to have it. Anything that would push his own strength to match that of his father's was worth sticking his nose in. 

Keeping his nose to the ground, he suddenly felt a chill down his spine– someone had been following him. He kept his cool and continued at his normal pace, his muscles reflexively tensing. He had just finished a fight, but he would not complain about another one. The scarecrows were mindless– easy practice targets. Whoever was following him was smart, and the excitement for a challenge bubbled in his chest. 

One thing was for sure, and it was not a demon– it was hard to tell if it was some other manner of supernatural foe. Whatever it was echoed his footsteps precisely and with intent. They kept their distance for now, barely staying within sight it felt. It was as if there were eyes glaring daggers into him for a split second and then nothing, and then again. He was willing to play along for now, and kept a steady course. 

Soon the crowd became denser and denser, the streets becoming properly filled out with the hustle and bustle of normal life. Vergil could tell that his little shadow had begun to close the distance between them, not wanting to lose sight of its target. It was obvious that they had no intention of being shaken off; finding their little game of cat and mouse tedious, he deftly slipped into a narrow alleyway the moment he had a chance. Back pressed against a stone wall, he took a quick look over the crowd.

A bored " hm… " exhaled passed his lips; it looked like whoever had been tailing him had given up. That same tingling feeling down his spine was gone, and he saw only a sea of hooded nobodies. He was almost disappointed, a real fight would have been entertaining at least. Shrugging the dissatisfaction off, he continued his path down the alleyway.

The narrow, boxed-in path of the alleyway flowed into a much more spacious area. It looked like a residential hub– a circular, brick courtyard framed a small, but decadent, water feature. It was barren, Vergil assumed that the residents were busy within the various shopping districts of the city during this time of day. He looked around to find an outlet from the area, only to catch a glimpse of red cotton from the corner of his eye.

That same tingling sense of danger arose in his spine once more.

"Excuse me?"

The soft voice made him turn to its source; next to the water fountain, standing a good few feet from him was a short woman donned in a lengthy, red dress. The color of the garment near blinding him in the light of day. Her face was near-completely obscured by the white cowl drawn up over her head, only the faintest impression of her mouth visible. The woman stood bashfully, her lips forming a gentle smile– almost resembling a V as she clasped her hands to her chest.

"Are you lost, sir? I haven't seen you around before," she padded quietly toward him, two small steps forward. She looked as average as any of the other humans walking around in the buzzing streets behind him– so why did his body instinctively move his hands to Yamato?

"I can make my own way," Vergil dismissed her, keeping his grip firmly on his sword beneath his cloak.

As she approached, he could make out the features of her face more clearly. The smile never left her face, it reaching her downturned eyes; a warm expression she seemed to hold indefinitely. He could make out two beauty marks kissed upon her face that added to her charm. It almost was too sweet of a face– no human looked this kind. He could almost melt into it if his reflexes hadn't screamed at him to move out of the way of the heavy steel that dropped its weight where he stood.

Skidding to a stop after quickly dodging, he looked to take in what had just assaulted him. An absurdly large, metal wheel crushed the brick beneath where he once was. His eyes traced the detailed metal up– finding the woman's delicate hands wrapped around a strap built into the medieval instrument. The impact of the slam had pushed the cowl from her head; short, curly, black locks kissed the warm sun beating down on them. Her sweet smile had dropped into a look of disgust. Heaving, she picked the wheel back up and rested it on her shoulder, readying another swing.