Devil May Cry - Volume 2 - Chapter 2.4

Phase 2 
Part 4 

The world shook.

The immutable laws of physics wrestled with forces intent on ignoring them.

It was the birthing pains of a creature from a dimension anathema to our own.

"This is pretty quiet for the end of the world." A deflated Dante said, coddling Ebony and Ivory.

"I expected somehing more, somehow.

It's taken the wind out of my sails." 
His traditional bluster had been replaced by an understated sobriety.

The seaside was more than quiet-it was utterly silent.

The waves crashed soundlessly against the cliff.

The wind ripping through the tall grass behind Dante and Beryl accompanied by its traditional rustling.

It was as if nature itself feared provoking the Beastheads.

Beryl ignored Dante.

She was too busy staring at the statue, which had somehow grown to enormous proportions and loomed amid the black clouds.

A chill ran down her spine.

Gravity pulled at her, and the air itself felt heavy and oppressive.

Dante didn't seem to notice.

"I'm not saying this is bad, as far as ends of the world go.

A little too gloomy, maybe.

I guess we should see what this guy's made of." He called Ebony and Ivory into action, drumming out a furious tattoo.

The three heads seemed unpreturbed by the fusillade.

"It's no good, Dante.

It's not working." 
"No-look." 
One of the heads writhed almost imperceptibly in the distance.

"It's in pain, all right.

It might look impressive at the scale, but lead always works in the end," Dante said.

"Well, nine times out of ten." 
Beryl stared at him dumbly.

"What's the matter? Did you wet your pants or something?" 
But Beryl didn't respond.

Instead, she clutched at her scar.

It quivered in a steady rhythm, as if a new heart had formed beneath it.

And that's when she realized that the beating matched the movements of the imposing Beastheads blotting out the sky.

"I thought you were a Devil Hunter," Dante taunted.

"Shut up! You don't understand!" 
Beryl trembled.

Negative energy washed over her, stamping out all the confidence she had accrued through years of grappling with monsters.

She found herself crushed by shame and embarrassment.

It is useless.

It is meaningless.

We are the Almighty and have bound thy fate.

Each pulse across her scar carried an ethereal voice on its crest-the Beastheads bore down on Beryl.

Resignation engulfed her.

Malignant tendrils reached out invisibly, digging deep into her soul.

Despair is a human emotion.

This weakness is thy final refuge from our power.

Beryl lifted her head to look at Dante.

Her wound burned and vibrated, overcoming her warrior instincts.

"I can't fight it.

I can't even stand up! Don't you understand?" 
"I don't want to understand," he snapped.

"Fighting these things is the reason I'm here." 
"The only thing the Beastheads creates is despair!" 
"Devils don't know anything about despair." It was a whisper, but the words sunk into Beryl's subconscious.

"If you don't want to die, then fight.

That thing on your back isn't just for decoration." 
Dante turned his back to Beryl and dashed to the edge of the cliff.

Just as the earth fell away to the sea, he pushed off and rocketed into the air.

Red and silver shot toward the giant demon filling the sky.

"You might be big, but we'll find out if you're strong!" He squeezed off another torrent of bullets in rapid sequence.

A gust of wind filled out Dante's red jacket and pushed him back onto the cliff top.

The battle was pointless as far as Beryl could see.

The world was spinning out toward its end.

There was no stopping the demon dog that now blotted out the sky.

Her crushing despair obliterated any attempt at defiance.

Beryl knew a weaker person would have already succumbed to death by now.

It was only a matter of time until she did the same.

But Dante's words resounded deep inside her.

Where have I seen this scene before? 
Watching Dante's valiant struggle resonated with memories long since forgotten...A black time shrouded in darkness and populated by those waiting for death.

The supreme power of the King of the Underworld dominated a planet on the verge of transforming into a second demon realm.

And then a solitary warrior appeared.

The greatest swordsman of the Underworld-a recklessly brave hero who revolted against his king and staved off the demon forces.

Dark Knight Sparda.

Beryl had grown up with the legend.

And now a story two thousand years old was playing itself out in front of her.

A hero wielding a massive sword exactly like the one in the picture books she'd read as a child.

Dante? 
Dante refused to back down in the fact of the colossal Beastheads, although his attacks had little impact.

His silver hair matched the storybook pictures of Sparda himself.

A coincidence? Or a homage? 
Either way, the realization gave Beryl a glimmer of hope.

A spark energized her.

Beryl could feel her spirit and courage welling up in defiance.

The malevolent presence in her consciousness ebbed.

Beryl grabbed the anti-tank rifle from her back.

Its reassuring weight boosted her confidence further.

"Dante! You won't get anywhere with those peashooters!" 
Dante swung low to the ground, giving Beryl a clear shot at their adversary.

She squeezed off five rounds at the creature.

The missiles punched deep into the Beastheads' flesh.

The demon unleashed a roar that drowned out the returning thunder.

The whipping wind regained its mournful whistle as the Beastheads' localized hold on nature relaxed.

Beryl had hit each of the creature's three heads.

The massive entity toppled from the sky as it writhed in agony.

"Okay! Now let's see if we can't cut this thing down in size." Dante sprung into action.

He ran toward the cliff edge once more and leapt into the air, pulling Rebellion from its scabbard on his back.

The massive blade sliced through the nape of the left head.

Bilious liquid gushed from the wound, painting the sky a vulgar color.

Dante wrestled with the sword to saw out as much flesh and bone as possible.

The mammoth demon bellowed so horrifically that Beryl's ears went numb.

Its left head dangled from a thin stretch of skin.

Dante was fairly certain it wasn't going to heal.

He fell toward the ocean with a smile.

Dante calmly sheathed Rebellion as he approached the waves and twisted around to land feet first.

He sank into the saltwater like a torpedo.

"Dante!" 
Beryl peeked over the edge of the cliff in horror, only to see Dante bobbing on the surface like a red and silver buoy.

He grinned like a schoolboy.

"I wasn't in the mood for a bath, but what the hell.

I bet I look dashing with this water dripping everywhere.

Tell me the truth.

Do you think I'm hot?" 
"Who wouldn't?" 
"So you've got some life left you after all.

That's great.

Let's go!" 
Dante shot out of the water and propelled himself up the side of the cliff with a series of sharp kicks.

He landed on the grassy cliff top with both guns drawn.

"Let's finish this, Beryl." 
"Already with you." Beryl leveled her anti-tank rifle at one of the demon's heads, and Dante waved Ebony and Ivory.

The mercenaries pulled their triggers simultaneously.

Beryl was once more almost deafened by the Beastheads' roar.

Dante had shot out another head's eyes.

Its jaw was completely missing courtesy of Beryl.

The Beatheads' lolled its two useless heads pathetically as the demons crashed into the ocean.

Sprays of foul liquid arced into the air and stained the violent sea.

Once more, Beryl noticed the local weather returning closer to normal.

A warmer breeze.

The scent of tall grass.

The despair that had threatened to overtake her had vanished.

It must have been the Beastheads' power! 
Two of the behemoth's three heads were now butchered.

Beryl couldn't detect the slightest hint of the malevolent presence that had recently dominated her mind.

The sea rolled where the creature thrashed about in pain and humiliation.

"That's right, bitch.

You weren't a bad sparring partner, but the game's over now." 
Dante unleashed a torrent of bullets from his two pistols, launching a deadly swarm toward the Beastheads.

The gargantuan creature was so close that Dante could have hit it with his eyes closed.

"So long.

Go back to your world with your tail between your legs." But the end never came.

Instead, a dreadful metallic sound rang out, louder even than the Beastheads' own roar.

"What happened?" Beryl yelled, both her hands clamped over her ears.

Dante would have explained, but his brain was too busy trying to process what he was seeing to bother with stringing words together.

The monster's remaining mouth had opened wide and actually spat out a human onto a cliff.

The figure dusted itself off and confidently strolled toward the two mercenaries.

Dante couldn't help but notice the newcomer wore an expensive suit.

The familiar man wore the same black aura as the Beastheads.

It was Ducas.

But a very different Ducas.

The sniveling cretin from earlier was gone, and in his place stood a self-assured man brimming with power.

It was almost as if he had swapped bodies with a superior being.

"Nice to meet you," Ducas said disarmingly.

"Dante the Devil Hunter." 
"Three heads and good manners.

I have to say I'm impressed with the way you deflected my bullets using just telepathy." The metallic report had signaled the volley blinking out of existence as Ducas mentally eradicated the bullets.

"You're not an ordinary rat," Dante added.

"Who are you really?" 
"If I use the name Ducas, you probably won't believe me.

Think about it, son of Sparda." 
The two men traded glares.

Their locked gazes grew increasingly tense as they each assessed the other.

Dante knew that Ducas wielded considerable power; a weaker man would have pressed the attack immediately.

The standoff meant that Ducas was confident he could easily take the Devil Hunter.

In the end, it was Beryl who ended the deadlock.

"Out of the way, Dante!" Her bullets cut down Ducas a moment later.

Beryl frowned.

"You let your guard down and forgot about me." 
"I gave you all due consideration," Ducas replied.

The next voice belonged to neither of them.

Beryl spun round in horror to see Ducas standing behind her.

He showed no trace of having been gunned down a moment earlier.

"You're a weakling and a nuisance," Ducas snarled.

He pushed the empty air in front of him and Beryl felt a violent impact in the pit of her stomach.

The invisible force sent her flying several meters across the cliff top.

Ducas was her physical inferior, but this mental power was beyond Beryl's understanding.

Nevertheless, she quickly realized that Ducas the Rat was somewhere inside that body.

He somehow had the raw power for a fight, but not the experience or skill.

"Your back is open," she pointed out.

By the time Ducas realized what was happening, Dante had already plowed Rebellion from chest to hip.

The blade attacked with blistering speed.

Ducas doubled over.

"Coward.

Cutting me from behind!" 
"It's actually an honor to be called a coward by a demon," Dante pointed out.

Dante had suspected that Ducas the Rat was no longer human, but it took nearly cleaving him in two to prove it.

His pathetic body was no longer mortal.

Rebellion's incision revealed a man that had become little more than a puppet.

Ducas' insides were overrun with supernatural influence.

It pulsed out an invisible shockwave.

"That possession trick wouldn't have worked on me even as a child." Dante sneered.

He flicked Rebellion once more and casually lopped off Ducas' head.

The nicely suited body toppled over the egde of the cliff and clashed into the surf below.

"Dante, you idiot!" 
Dante turned around reflexively, wondering what Beryl had gotten herself into now.

As it turned out, Beryl was wriggling between the Beastheads' last remaining pair of jaws.

Ducas' final supernatural push had sent her flying right over the edge of the cliff and into the sea, where the wounded beast had snatched her by the shoulders.

Dante unsheathed Rebellion, eager to give the blade another workout.

"You don't want to eat her," he called out to the monster.

"She'll give you diarrhea.

I'd spit her out if I were you." 
The creature narrowed its eyes cryptically.

Dante shrugged.

"I don't get intimidated by puppies." He wandered toward the Beastheads, dragging Rebellion limply on the ground behind him.

He could press it into action in the space of a moment, or drop the sword and whip out his guns.

The doglike head simply stared over Beryl's head at Dante.

"You think I care what happens to her? Whatever.

Eat her.

Get indigestion.

See if I care." 
Dante jabbed Rebellion into the soil and pulled out Ebony and Ivory.

He aimed the weapons directly at the Beastheads' brain-a move that placed Beryl directly in his sight.

Beryl seethed at him.

"Come on, Beryl.

Don't resent me.

I'll be sure to put some flowers by your grave." 
"You pathetic assho-" 
The roar of the gunfire drowned out of the rest of Beryl's sentence.

The Beastheads groaned in anger and pain, dropping Beryl from its jaws.

But she never hit the ground.

Dante rose off the cliff top to meet her.

They'd been suspended by invisible forces.

They rose into the air in disbelief.

"Hey, what is this crap?" Dante fumed.

"I'm talking to you, dogbrea-!" 
His words were cut off as if yanked out of time and space.

Strange energy ripped through Dante.

He felt his body stretching, falling.

Falling forever into a black voice.

And that's when he realized what was happening.

He and Beryl were dropping into the mouth of the Beastheads.

Falling, but to a world that has taken another path.

An ominous voice briefly echoed in his head.

And then Dante could see and hear no more.

Eventually, he lost consciousness.