[Epilogue]

The plains of black and red seemed to stretch into nowhere. The atmosphere of gloom, pain and anger seemed to hang like a veil, like the drawn curtains over eyes of every being here. Each being here were present for their own reasons, but never were these reasons anything good. Red, short grass grew on black fields, cemented floor making streaks within the painful painting.

The sky was painted the same color as the fields, and winged beings flew amongst the opaque black clouds, cawing and screeching in a tune that was nowhere near melodic. Some of these beings looked as if they had crawled out of children’s nightmares, while others seemed to not even be equipped with the proper aerodynamics for flight. Yet, one way or the other, they flew in the black-and-red sky.

None of these beings fought, yet none of them were truly friends or allies. They kept each other at bay, caring for themselves and their own small corner of this forsaken plain. They plotted their own plans and devices, waiting for a day where their king would come in again, and order them to do what they were made for. To kill, and to fight.

One of such being walked alone, through the fields. He held no grotesque appearance. In fact, his appearance was something akin to the Heavens above. His appearance stood out like a sore thumb above everything else. An angel, walking amongst the million devils and demons.

Eyes turned in his wake, staring at his back as he walked along, his pace leveled and even, his head kept only facing front. He walked with a confident strut, a walk that meant he knew exactly what he was here for. Yet, none of the demons, wallowing in their own sorrow and disgust, seemed to be able to raise a single claw, finger or appendage against him.

They knew exactly who he was, and they feared him. He had reputation unlike any other, and this time, his reputation preceded him. He had just done something that no demon ever thought possible, and now he was here, returning home.

He gave none of them a look. None of the demons dared to stare at his face. They watched as he passed, watched his appearance with slight fear and curiosity. This was a man who had defied hell. A man who had pitted himself against the demon king more than once, and lived to tell the tale. This was a man who was indestructible. None dared to make a sound at his appearance. The screeches died and the flying demons stopped their flight.

He wore a comfortable set of casual outfit, a fitting low V-neck t-shirt paired with fitting jeans. He held no jewelry, only a clean, crisp face with silver-white hair. He looked tired; tired and old. He felt tired. In his hand was a katana, matched to fit him perfectly. The weapon was his –the weapon he had made out of his enemy’s blood and power.

He walked to the middle of the field, where a stone circle raised slight above the black soil and red grass. He stood before the stone circle, unspeaking. He uttered no words, raised the katana, and slammed it in the middle of the stone circle, penetrating through cement.

An extremely loud crack sounded through the entire plain. A white flash blinded the black-red sky. After the demons regained their sight from the temporary blindness, all they saw was the man standing before a door of plain whiteness. It was unlike any portal any demon had ever seen. It was unlike anything any demon had ever seen.

The man turned around and looked at the scene that splayed out before him. He clicked his fingers, and pointed to one of the demons close by. Its brethren watched as the pointed demon convulsed –as if in pain –crumbled to the floor, then morphed into something. Skin became cloth and its grotesque appearance changed into sleek design.

He walked calmly to where the demon had been, picking up its remains. In his hands was a black trench-coat with three-quarter sleeve. The man smiled, as if proud of his doing, and then took his time to fit himself into the trench coat. From the pocket, he withdrew a pair of fingerless gloves and put them on with no problem.

He returned slowly to his katana, drawing it back out from the ground.

He walked into the tear in the world, disappearing through the gap.

He did not return.

***************************************************************

“Well, how was it? Were you guys injured? Anything?” She asked worriedly as her children ran into the house, waving their weapons in each other’s faces as if they were knights on a swordfight to the death.

“You should have seen us, Mummy! We were great! Uncle Dante even taught us to taunt the demon! Boy; did it lose its top!” The boy replied his worried mother, dodging a playful strike from his sister, and then faking a parry with his scythe.

The girl backtracked away from the weapon, tripped over the low table and fell backwards on her butt as their uncles walked through the door, meeting Trish with a smile.

“How was it? Were they alright?” She didn’t seem to let her worry rest, but the smile on Dante’s and Daniel’s face seemed to answer it.

“They are really Damon’s kids. I didn’t even have to tell them what to do! They saw the demon; didn’t even say anything to each other, and yet displayed the best teamwork I have ever seen from any two demon hunters.” Dante commended, at which both kids beamed brightly at.

“Interesting use of strategy from Wynter that she ran right between the Cerberus’s legs while Damien sneaked up its back.” Vergil commented too as he took off his trench coat, hanging it on the rack.

“They’re just the best child demon hunters anywhere, Trish. Don’t you worry your pretty head about them; they can hold their own.” Daniel concluded with a grin and a thumb up to his niece and nephew.

It had been their first official demon hunting mission, and though the three men had been there to watch over her children, Trish had been worried as hell for her children. No matter what they said, no matter how much they tried to convince her that both Wynter and Damien were all ready for the Cerberus, Trish had never forgotten the fact that they were only ten year old kids. Ten year old kids, sent out to kill a demon that was at least five times their height and had two more heads than they.

“See? You don’t have to worry about us, Mummy! We can protect ourselves now!” Wynter boasted as she accepted her brother’s hand, keeping her katana back in the sheathe at her waist while Damien clicked his scythe back to its dormant form. With nifty alterations from Daniel and the technologic department in Kries Tech, the scythe had been installed with the ability of changing into a harmless and useless looking tube for his nephew to keep. As for Wynter’s katana, the sheathe was made to look like a harmless little umbrella that she was fond of carrying around with her.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, kids. You’re just ten.” Trish warned, but sighed in relief to know that her children were able to protect themselves properly.

“Where is my favorite pair of twins? Come on, Aunt Lady has prepared your favorite dessert! Who wants some strawberry sundaes?” Marcy came into the room with the dessert tray on her hand, bringing joyful yells from the children.

Dante gave Marcy a crossed look, stomping his feet as if he were a child too.

“I thought Vergil and I were your favorite pair of twins? Where’s my strawberry sundae?” He whined, and Vergil sighed, shaking his head, silently retreating back to the kitchen to meet Lady.

“Make your own, lazy boy. No one said you were my favorite.” Marcy snapped, handing the cold dessert over to her enthusiastic nephew and niece.

“Hey, how can you say that? Remember when I was your favorite video game character?” Dante protested, getting laughs from his doppelganger while Marcy turned red quickly.

“That was before Vergil!” She protested hotly, running after her husband to escape more teasing.

“Uncle Dante, Aunt Marcy used to like you?” Damien asked innocently, making Daniel laugh harder. Even his mother had to smile at that memory of when Marcy was crazy about all things Dante.

“Trust me, she used to love me so much, she used to just dream and fantasize about me all day and night. She even had a fan club about me!” Dante boasted, but the grin toned down almost immediately when Vergil came walking back out of the kitchen, glaring at his twin brother for making fun of his wife.

Damien and Wynter laughed harder at that, watching as Lady walked over and flicked her fiancé on the ear. Lady and Dante had gotten engaged recently, and though it never seemed possible, Dante had actually signed himself to commit to his long-time, debt-collecting, tight-fisted girlfriend.

“Mister, I can take this ring off any moment, and you can be off eloping with Marcy.” She reminded, making Marcy blush even a deeper shade of pink.

The laughter got harder, and even Dante had to put an embarrassed face now, making the children laugh even harder this time.

The dinner was spent with teasing, then the children boasting about their first official mission and the success of it. One would think that this family was perfect; with their carefree teasing, their unspoken care and concern with each other.

Yes, this family was almost perfect. Almost.

Dessert was –as expected –strawberry sundae and the men –save Vergil –were having their own strawberry sundae competition with the two children, before Sparda walked through a portal right before them. Sparda rarely approached them these days, having found ways of communicating with his wife now, and when he did, it was rare.

The father of the two half-devils now knew his sons better, but did not seem to make any efforts to connect well with them. Neither did the two of them bother –with their hands tied up with their wives, their career as well as the kids they liked to consider their very own nephew and nieces too.

“Uncle Sparda! It’s nice to have you visit us!” Wynter greeted happily, waving brightly at him, before she realized that her brother hadn’t stopped chomping on his cold dessert, still very much trying to win the competition against his uncles.

“Father.” Vergil greeted carefully with guarded eyes, but Sparda ignored the childish competition his other child was having with the children.

Instead, the Legendary Dark Knight looked only to Trish.

“It’s your children’s tenth birthday tomorrow. If he doesn’t return tomorrow, what would you do?”

In an instant, all air of celebration and joy was left. Tomorrow was the deadline. She would have waited eleven years in vain, and she would have lost him tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the day she would have to let go of him, put flowers on his grave, and declared him finally dead in her heart.

“Wynter and Damien will have to go on. I will have to go on. If he is dead… then Wynter and Damien have no father. If he is late… then at least he returns to us.” Trish said, barely feeling any strength as she promised Sparda.

“Can you do it? You have been holding on to tight hope. Tomorrow, if he doesn’t show his face, he will never return.”

“He will, father. He has never broken a promise.” Vergil spoke up in place of Trish, but everyone knew there was always possibility that Damon would not come home.

“If I told you now that it is confirmed that he is dead, what would you do?” Sparda spoke so seriously that even Trish had to be taken aback by that information. As if her ground had been taken away from her, she collapsed to the nearest seat, her hand pressed over her heart.

“Is… it… confirmed?” She whispered, as if she didn’t dare to ask; didn’t dare to find out the answer to the question.

“I have faith in my Daddy, Uncle Sparda! He will come back! He won’t die and leave Mummy like this! Don’t scare Mummy like this!” Wynter suddenly stood up, a strange fire alight in her eyes. It was the fire of determination, the fire to protect her mother.

It was the fire belonging to Damon.

Sparda smiled at the sight of the same thing burning in Damien’s eyes. Both Damon’s children were exactly like their father, fiercely loyal to their family. That would be their downfall, like how Damon’s family had been his.

“I just received news from Hell. Lucifer is dead. Witness saw someone escape the place before it crumbled down. Lucifer was the last prince of Hell. These past few years, someone has been going around killing the rest. Now, its Mundus left in Hell.”

“That sounds like Damon to me.” Daniel remarked with a grin of pride. If there was someone who could pit himself against all seven princes of Hell, then it would be his twin brother.

“It could be. But if the sole survivor from that wreckage is not him, then Damon is gone.”

“It must be him, Uncle Sparda! Daddy must have survived it!” Damien piped up, but Sparda shook his head.

“Don’t be so sure. If it were Damon, where would he be now? He would be right back here; he would be taking Trish back in his arms. But he is not. It might not be him. He might still be under that wreckage that was once Lucifer’s mansion.”

“Then he’s late. It’s got to be Damon.” Dante said with ferocity, and Sparda looked at his son with mild surprise.

“It might not be. It is stupid to hold such strong hope, Dante. The more you wish for, the harder you fall.” Sparda warned.

“Damon will not fail us. I’m sure of that.” Daniel said with conviction, and in a tone that said he was unhappy with what Sparda was trying to convince them of.

“You have been warned, nevertheless.” Sparda nodded to show that he understood that he was no longer wanted here. Without a single look back, he turned, created another portal and disappeared away from the world.

Wynter got to her feet and ran over to her mother’s side, tugging her mother’s hand.

“He’s going to be back, Mummy. I have faith in him.”

Trish smiled, but her smile was a tired one. She had held on to this hope for years. Where was he?

She was tired. Tired of waiting. She wanted him to appear.

She wanted him to appear now.

“Demon. I sense a demon.” Vergil alerted suddenly, looking around the mansion that was the home of his wife, and his temporary home for some time. Everyone looked around, trying to locate the source of demonic power, but they didn’t have to look far.

Just outside the window, out on the garden of lush flowers and a fountain that sprayed brilliant cold water endlessly, was a bright reddish glow of something unnatural, something demonic.

There was no waiting. Everyone rushed out of the mansion, down to the garden as the glow got brighter, deeper in color till it was crimson red.

Immediately, Trish was reminded by the day everything started, the day Dante and Vergil crashed in on them. The portal had been there, glowing red. She knew someone was coming.

She didn’t dare to hope.

“Mummy, I’m scared…” Wynter and Damien whispered as they each held one of their mother’s hands tightly, slightly hiding their body behind her.

The red glow suddenly flashed once, a brilliant white that almost blinded everyone. While Dante and Daniel cursed at the sudden visual assault, she blinked the blindness quickly out, facing the white glow fearlessly now. Amongst the black spot in her vision, she saw someone. The figure; the silhouette of someone walking from the glow, straight towards her.

Her children moved even closer to her, as if sensing something dangerous making for them.

He continued to walk towards them, his features slowly getting more and more defined with each step he took closer to her. She saw his silver-white hair, the tired lines on his face. She saw the pain in his eyes, the longing in his eyes. She saw every single year that passed with each movement he made, every single pain he suffer with every step he took. She saw everything, his face, his scars, his hands, his legs, his clothes, his walk, his physique.

Her eyes drank him in, and it wasn’t even enough. He held an expressionless face as he continued to walk towards her, and she wondered if he knew anything at all. He didn’t show any signs of recognizing her, or even acknowledging that she was here, that he was walking toward her.

Lady and Marcy covered their lips with their hands, their heartbeats picking up. The children sneaked a peek from their mother’s body, then stared and stared. They looked around at the men standing around them, then at the man that continued walking towards them.

It seemed like an eternity that the man spent walking, but he finally reached their world, finally touched the ground of the Earth. He stood at the edge of the fountain, looked up at the sky –the black, starless sky –breathed in a deep breath and sighed.

He reached his hand out, brushing the water that spewed from the fountain, and sighed once again, rubbing the liquid between his fingers as if he hadn’t touched water in many years. He looked around once more, at his surrounding and gave a gentle smile, as if he felt great to be back.

He wore a black trench coat, and held nothing but a single, long katana in his hand. He looked down from his elevated height, and he gasped. He didn’t move, but he stared. He didn’t breathe at all.

The tears filled his aquamarine blue eyes, but he ignored them as they rolled down his cheeks. In that moment, both their hearts exploded with joy and so much pain. Their hearts imploded with love, and all they could think about was each other. Every particle of them screamed to be together again, but they stood frozen, only looking deep into each other’s eyes, and seeing themselves.

He was back.

A moment passed, and as if someone had taken a finger off the ‘pause’ button, he jumped down from where he stood and ran to her, just as she let her children go and went charging blindly to him.

“Trish!” His cry was filled with so much love that she could only tremble at the sound of that voice, so pained and so in love.

Her legs went jelly the instant she touched him, and they collapsed into a heap on the ground. The softness of his skin against hers, the strength in which he held her, safe away from the floor, everything came back to her in a rush. The smell of him, the feel of him pressed against her; nothing could compare against him. It was him.

She pressed her face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in so deep that she was almost sure she was sniffing a drug. A drug that was him. He cried her name over and over again, as if that name filled his mouth with utmost sweetness, even as he held her in the most solid, the most protective embrace she had felt for years.

When the tears finally stopped, she finally looked up at his beautiful face, watching as the black sky framed the piece of perfection in her eyes. He looked deep into her eyes, the apology repeated endlessly between them. Then he kissed her. He kissed her in the most gentle, the most loving kiss she had ever received from him, and in that instant, she forgot about the kiss he gave her when she left. She only remembered this kiss, this kiss that would last forever in her mind.

They parted after a long moment, just glad to be in each other’s arm again. In those eyes, she knew that he was back. And he was back to stay. Back beside her, back to be with her again.

Someone made a small whine that escalated quickly into a scream of joy, and someone crashed into them, engulfing them in an extremely tight hug. There was crying and laughing, so hard that they weren’t sure if the person was truly happy or not. Still, he laughed –with his tears still flowing freely –and hugged his sister back.

“You didn’t lie to me! I knew you wouldn’t! We had faith in you!” Marcy cried, and he took her in his embrace, stroking her hair carefully.

“You’ve changed… Vergil’s wife now, Mrs. Sparda?” He replied with a laugh, and Marcy laughed while crying.

“Dry those tears, Marce, or Vergil will murder me.” He laughed at the face she made, but was stopped from saying more when someone else crashed into them on the floor, forcing the air out of his lungs.

“YOU IDIOT! I TOLD YOU TO COME BACK SOONER, DIDN’T I? I WAS DYING ALONE AT KRIES TECH!” Daniel yelled, grabbing his twin by the head and knuckling his elder brother so hard on the top of his head that the man had to yell his surrender.

“But haven’t you made Kries Tech the top mega company now?” He laughed back in reply despite the pain his brother had caused him, still letting the tears of joy run free.

“Oy, stop being a sissy and wipe those tears. You’re making me cry too.” Dante said, and he turned to see the half-devil truly shedding tears despite himself.

“You wipe your tears off first.”

“No, you first. I’ll punch those tears out of you.”

“Really? Already with a fiancée, and you’re still this childish?”

Dante made a face that they had to laugh at. Slowly, Marcy and Daniel climbed up, and he helped his wife up to her feet.

“I’m sorry… I did not do anything to help you…” Vergil put in suddenly, breaking up the joyful air of his return.

“Actually, you and Sparda helped me a lot. Every time you or Sparda entered and exited Hell, I got a little new information of what you’d found out at defeating the demon princes. You didn’t know it, but I managed to create a link between you and me every time you were down in Hell. From you, I learnt to kill off the princes one by one.”

“You were really the one who killed the demon princes? Lucifer too?” Trish put in with surprise. This was the man she had married? She knew Damon was powerful, but had these years made him even more powerful? Even more powerful than Sparda?

“I took my grief of losing my family, my pain and suffering from Lucifer, and changed it all to my strength. I’ve improved myself, and removed all obstacles that may pose a danger to you and our family. All, except for Mundus, which I will need everyone’s help in destroying. We will kill Mundus together. As a family.” He announced proudly, never letting go of the hand of his wife’s.

“Speaking of family…” Trish began to smile a little as her two little angels began to walk towards them with curiosity and slight awe, coming out from hiding behind Lady.

“Wynter, Damien, say hi to your father. He is back, like I told you.”

Damon stood a few steps away from his children, waiting for some form of acknowledgment from his nine year old daughter and son. What would they do? Fear him? Be angry at him? Hate him for not being there? He remembered how much he had hated his mother for not being there during the first few decades of his life. Would his children do the same to him?

The moment that passed was too long, and the longer it dragged, the more hope that drained away from him. He almost felt deflated when a minute passed and his children showed no acknowledgment, only staring passively at him.

And then a miracle.

Wynter burst into tears all of a sudden, and began charging at him.

“DADDY!”

Damien followed behind his sister, without as much tears and screaming as Wynter, but with the same amount of love and longing.

Together, the two young demon hunters tackled their father to the floor, and all was well again.

All was well in the Kries family again, because Damon Kries had returned.

The family was whole again.

********************************************************

“See what we can do, Daddy!” Wynter yelled as she withdrew her katana, beginning to swordfight with her little brother while Damon sat on the couch for the first time in many years, surrounded by his family.

“Be careful!” He warned worriedly, but they merely grinned, jumping and flipping around with their inhumane grace and speed.

“Are they really mine?” He whispered quietly to his wife, and she chuckled, snuggling close to him.

“Wynter has exceptionally high IQ, and Damien has your softness for women. You think?”

“I think… I love them. I love you for making them this way. I couldn’t have asked for better kids.”

“And they couldn’t have asked for a better father. How are you? How have you fared these years?”

“Not well. But I survived, and that’s what matters.”

“However did you escape?”

“Long story.”

“We’ve got time. And we’re dying to know what happened to you.”

Damon nodded. “You guys should know…”

Before he could say more, the doorbell rang. Curious, he followed his wife to the door, knowing that his children were chasing after them since they knew that their parents were no longer viewing their display of skills.

At the door was a petite, slightly short girl with straight black hair that reached long past her shoulders. She had an oval-shaped face, small black eyes and round cupids shape lips. Her physique was not one of a curvy model, yet not exactly flat-chested. She wore a pair of simple black spectacles and truthfully looked like she belonged at home, studying for school rather than standing here, before a man who had just spent years in Hell.

“Mr. Damon Kries?” She asks carefully, looking between the husband and wife, smiling a little when she saw the faces of the two kids poking their heads out.

“Yes, how do you know me?”

She smiles brightly, glad that she had found the right place. She held out a name card, thrusting it quickly in his hand so that he wouldn’t be able to refuse her.

“My name is Zerlina. Zerlina Quinn. I’m a Wattpader, and I was the one who wrote your book. ‘Living with Dante’?”

His eyes lights up, immediately recognizing the name. “Why are you here? How did you know everything about me?”

She adjusts her spectacles uneasily.

“You can say that I’m from another world, and in my world, you’re just a fictional character. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here today because I know something happened to you, and I will be writing my second story about you. Can you narrate it to me?”

“You want to write a second book? About me?”

“It will be a sequel to the first. It is your life, Mr. Kries.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Quinn, but how long will this take? Damon has just returned after years-” Trish tried to say, but the girl of seventeen smiled.

“He can narrate his part in Hell to you at the same time. Besides, I’m sure his kids would like to know everything about him, no? This is profit-free, just for the entertainment of Devil May Cry fans out there.”

Damon looks at her up and down for another moment longer.

“Come in. Just make sure you do the story right like how you did it the first time.”

She smiled even more brightly now.

“My pleasure. It’s always a pleasure for me to write about Dante and you.”

He opens the door wider, letting her in while Wynter and Damien watch her curiously.

“So what are you going to call the second book?” Trish asked, a little uncertain that there would be someone else who knew their story so clearly.

She stops, turns around and grins now.

“When Worlds Come Crashing Together.”

-The End-