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The House of Amut
The Cloister

                Ichabod ran close to the demon trying his damndest to hold its attention while also avoiding its strikes. A task that had become exceptionally more difficult after its transformation, the tendrils were simply too fast and much too numerous to allow him to lay a trap. Then he noticed the shattered skull face, how, every now and again, it would lunge forward through the tendrils, a heavy attack with its jaws open and much slower than the whip-like movements of its tentacles. Yet, even this was simply a random strike, a new move thrown in to catch him off guard, so he watched, he waited, studying the tells of the monster and planning for his opening.

                The opportunity finally arose, and Ichabod grabbed a vial from his gun belt, not salt this time, but phosphorus. Tossing the container into Chino’s jaw, he drew the weapon, Brier Rabbit, and fired at almost point blank range. The bullets struck the vial in mid-air, igniting the phosphorus into a ball of white-hot powder, then the secondary explosive in them activated, sending the needles flying into the demon’s neck and face, but also scattering the powder into a wide blanket that burned its way into Chino’s skin.

    Pain seized up the demon’s entire body, causing him to spasm and jerk ineffectually as its dulled mental faculties attempted to compensate for the injury. Upon seeing this, Vergil wasted no time, slicing through the demon’s mid-section and landing on the other side. Meanwhile, Ichabod did his own best to capitalize on the brief respite he had been given and drew several Devils Traps on the ground. Before the monster was able to recover, Ichabod holstered Brier Rabbit and drew his other gun, the Violet Amaryllis, and fired several rounds into Chino’s face in order to draw its attention. The ploy worked, and it lunged at Ichabod one final time, its head passing over the devils traps and being consumed by a purple energy that struggled to hold it in place.

    Vergil leapt high into the air and over the demon’s back before falling down to sever its head completely. Even as he collected himself, standing straight and sheathing his sword while the demon’s head flopped uselessly at his feet, a series of slashes ripped themselves across the demon’s chest, tearing it open until Chino’s body collapsed. With the monster conquered, Vergil hefted his katana, Yamato, onto his shoulder and smirked back at Ichabod who only scoffed.

“Show off,” he muttered, turning away to search for Nico.

The House of Amut
The Trophy Room

                Their battle had carried the whole lot of them through the area, eventually throwing Dante and Trish into the hall where they attempted to regroup. The enemy they faced was not large in size, but there certainly seemed to be a lot of them. In addition, they would grab and throw each other to an impressive explosion upon collision, all the while giggling madly like a pack of lunatics. Their skills and weapons weren’t enough to hold back the onslaught, a situation made even worse when the pack formed together into a massive ball and started rolling after them in a relentless headlong charge.

                Dante turned back on them, firing both of his guns in a vain attempt to blunt the attack, but gave up quickly instead focusing his energy into running.

“The Hell do these things keep coming from?” he yelled.

“The air vents?” Trish suggested while keeping pace.

                He grabbed her arm, dragging her with him as he sharply rounded a corner, hoping to lose their pursuer, but the rolling ball halted its momentum, changed direction and following them.

“Okay,” he shouted over a frustrated grunt as they continued their manic charge, “The way I figure, either this place has a serious infestation or there has to be a source.”

“So one splits off, the other kills the prime,” Trish surmised, then raised her fist, “Match you for it?”

                They pumped their hands three times, she threw rock and he threw scissors.

“Damn,” Dante complained, grabbing his sword and jumping back towards the roller-ball, the clump of rodents shattered, falling away, yet he continued to his attack, firing into the puddle of squirming creatures, “I got this go!”

                Trish nodded, jumping past the pair of them, even running along the wall to avoid the battle.

“Great,” she slid to a halt at the turn in the hall and started retracing their steps, “Now where’re they coming from?”

The House of Amut
The Cloister

                Vergil and Ichabod walked through the forest of nodes and vials searching for Nico.

“I wouldn’t have called it,” Ichabod broke the awkward silence, “But she’s actually pretty fast.”

“Good,” Vergil told him, “Less for us to search.”

“You’re thinking about stabbing me aren’t you?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Vergil admitted.

                Ichabod clenched his weapon, tempted to spin about and begin the fight, but then he sighed, letting the thought flee from his mind.

“When it’s over,” he repeated the warning, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Mmm,” Vergil shrugged, “I’m more for beheadings anyway.”

                Gritting his teeth, Ichabod let the threat slide on by and continued forward, finally spotting Nico at the end of a long aisle and standing in front of a vacuum sealed tube. He called out to her and she spun back to face them, anxiously pointing at a node.

“Hey!” she called out, “Hey Guys! I found Him!”

                Vergil suddenly quickened his pace, stomping ahead of Ichabod to where she was pointing and staring at the node sticking up out of the ground. His face was entirely blank as he looked over the prison which Nero had been placed in, but his fingers tightened around the sheathe of Yamato, locking it in a death grip.

“Why didn’t you open it?” he demanded.

“Um, because of that,” she pointed to an intravenous tube that had buried itself into Nero’s chest, “I don’t know what it is or what it’s doing, and it…” she stopped dead in the middle of her explanation when Vergil whipped his sword through the air, cleanly slicing through the door and the intravenous tube without ever touching Nero’s flesh, “I…um…” Nico cringed while a fine spray of water burst from the cut, staining their shoes, “I was worried that it might have been booby trapped to rip his heart out or something.”

“Open it,” Vergil growled.

“Yes sir,” she responded, reaching out for the door when everything in the cloister sprang to life, glowing and pulsating with a sudden ungodly rush of energy.

    Even as they began humming, a tidal wave swept through the area, undulating the cloister and throwing them all up into the air. This happened twice more, and, while they were attempting to recover, enormous hands spawned all across the floor, erupting upwards and consuming every node and tube. The hands pulled them into the ground with an almost maddening haste, but when they came for Nero, they were much too slow. Vergil sliced through the grasping meat-hooks one after the other, destroying them even as they arose, through his struggle, he found himself perched atop Nero’s prison, lashing out at anything which came into arms reach.

“Get him out of there!” Vergil repeated.

                Nico jumped towards the node only to find herself held back by Ichabod who simply raised a single claw from his demonic hand and sliced the door off of its hinges before setting to work on Nero’s restraints. Within seconds the unconscious demon hunter fell limply onto the ground to be collected by the pair with Nico and Ichabod both taking hold of one of his arms to pull Nero away while Vergil jumped from the node seconds before it was swallowed into the floor of the Cloister.

                The group backed away from the spot where the damaged node had been absorbed and saw the forest of tubes had also been consumed, leaving behind a bare and completely flat surface that was somehow even more haunting than the valley of glass canisters filled with body parts. Light was still being emitted but now by, what appeared to be, luminescent varicose veins all glowing and throbbing in their neon glamour beneath everyone’s feet. By this fell light, they were all able to see and finally deduce the dimensions of the massive room as well as the exit and wordlessly agreed to head towards it.

                Vergil jogged briskly ahead, taking the obvious lead but never allowing himself to pull away from either Nico or Ichabod who were both dragging the still unconscious Nero by his arms. In the midst of their panicked fleeing, Melody suddenly let out an agonized scream, clapping both hands over her ears, her voice reached such a pitch that nearly everyone around her fell to the ground with only Vergil managing to stay upright, and barely at that.

“What was…” Nico began while beside her Nero started coughing up a gut-full of fluid.

“Wh-what the H-hell’s going on…” he wondered between gasps of air.

“Oh, nice, he’s awake,” she rolled her eyes.

                Ignoring the both of them, Ichabod shambled to his feet and moved over to where Nico lay, unhooking Melody from her back and examining her. Though no longer screaming, the Faye creature was shuddering and holding her ears as blue blood seeped its way between her fingers.

“T-t-too…” she stammered, agony still written across her features, “Too…Much…”

“Ichabod,” Vergil called out, staring in baffled amazement at his own arms while his body slipped in and out of Devil Trigger.

                Nero was doing the same and even Ichabod was noticing the red lightning now coursing across his demonic arm.

“…Shit,” he muttered as the realization dawned on him and, with a look of pure terror on his face, Ichabod grabbed hold of Nico’s shoulders, “You’ve got to get her out of here!”

“Bu...” in her confusion, Nico tried to push him away, “What is wrong with you?”

“I used holy elements to create Melody,” he insisted, “The saturation of Demonic Energy in this room is killing her, Please! You have to…”

“Yes,” a man’s voice rang through-out the room, and they all turned to see him, a tall muscle-bound demon cloaked from the waist down in white with long horns growing past the small of his back while his jagged toothy maw let loose a dapper, upper crust accent, “Take her, remove the little magpie from my sight, here,” he waved his hand and the wall opened, revealing a path directly leading to the exit staircase, “I’ll even show you the way.”

“Go,” Ichabod desperately whispered, passing Melody off to Nico, “Please.”

“Fine,” she held the Faye creature’s limp body in her arms and backed away from the rest, “Come on Nero.”

“Oh no,” the demon before them clenched his fist and the exit closed itself, “Not him, he is mine for the moment.”

“Yeah,” Nero smirked, glaring at their enemy, “I’d say I am.”

“But,” she tried to argue but he was hearing none of it.

“It’s alright Nico,” he assured her, “Just get the statue thing out of here before it vomits its guts all over you.”

                Ichabod made a visible effort to ignore that comment and instead looked deeply into Nico’s eyes, openly begging her until she finally conceded.

“You…um, you’ll need…” Nico awkwardly slid the muti-barrel shotgun from her shoulder, passing it to Ichabod, holding onto the weapon, she insisted, “Don’t…”

“I’ll take good care of it,” Ichabod told her compassionately, “I’ll bring it back,” then he nodded towards Nero, “Him to.”

“Good, because if you don’t Kyrie’ll probably kill me.”

                They shared a brief laugh while Nico backed away and he slid the shotgun on. She cast a final baleful glance over her shoulder but Ichabod nodded to her, trying his best to be reassuring.

“You may leave as well, Mr. Crowley,” their captor called out, “I’ve no grudge to settle with you.”

“Give it time,” Ichabod sneered, “We’ve only just met.”

“Who the Hell are you again?” Nero demanded.

“Well that’s a very good question, let’s all sit down and discuss it,” Ichabod responded mockingly, “I’m certain this fine gentleman will give us the time we need to hash it out.”

“Wax,” their captor corrected.

“Excuse me?”

“My name is ‘Wax’.”

“…Heh, yeah,” Ichabod tried to laugh it off but felt an unmistakable cold chill running down his spine, “Like it matters.”

“Stand up,” Vergil ordered, and when Nero only glared back at him, amended, “Don’t make me take you over my knee boy.”

“Why don’t you just take five ‘pops’,” Nero sneered as he shoved himself back up to his feet, “I’ll take care of this.”

                Ichabod said nothing, simply rolling his eyes and waiting for the obvious rebuttal. Vergil seemed to have a similar reaction, allowing Nero to move ahead of the pack and rush headlong into their captor. Seconds before the two would have collided, Nero assumed his Devil Trigger mode, creating a larger shadow demon that move in an after image to him and both threw a massive roundhouse punch. The shockwave created by the attack sliced a furrow into the ground beside their captor, but Wax himself hardly flinched. He didn’t even move to block, simply accepting the strike as both the shadow and Nero struck him in the face.

“A mighty blow indeed,” Wax chuckled, a pair of arms growing out from his back, reaching over his body and slamming their fists down into Nero’s skull, collapsing the demon hunter under the weight of the combined strike.

                Both Vergil and Ichabod just shook their heads while Nero’s semi-conscious body was kicked to their feet.

“Did we learn anything today?” Ichabod asked sarcastically.

“You…you…” Nero was struggling to talk just as much as he was struggling to stand, falling down twice before finally, barely, managing to maintain verticality, “Sh-shut your… damn mouth…”

“Together then?” Vergil suggested.

“I don’t see a lot of options,” Ichabod shrugged, then looked to Nero, “You ready for this?”

“Ready,” he insisted and, despite the blood trickling from his ears, Nero seemed to be willing himself back into the fight, standing, much more stable, with his fists clenched and a determined look on his face.

                In unison, the three of them spread out, preparing their attack. Ichabod slid a vial of salt from his gun belt and discretely showed it to the others who both shared a look and nodded. Vergil swiftly drew his sword to draw Wax’s attention as Ichabod chucked the salt at the back of their captor’s head. Without even turning around, a third arm grew out of Wax’s back and slapped the vial into shards, to everyone’s shock, the salt reacted drastically the demonically charged atmosphere becoming a impressively large ball of red flame.

                Vergil and Nero didn’t allow the fireball to hold them back for very long, rushing in at once and doing their best to attack while Wax blocked their efforts with his extra arms, turning one of them into a whip-thin sword to deflect the Yamato. Ichabod stepped away from the battle, examining the situation and feeling a sudden rush of inspiration. Circling the room, he scratched a series of devil’s traps into the floor, watching as they gathered together orbs of demonic energy into their depths, he realized it would take time for the orbs to reach critical mass, but the trap was set and solid, at least, he hoped so.

                Drawing his gun, Violet Amaryllis, and moved to support the others, shooting off one of Wax’s hands before he could finish slashing downwards at Nero’s exposed throat, giving the boy a chance to escape from the clutch he had fallen into. No sooner was Nero free than Vergil came sliding behind Wax, severing most of his extra arms and then spinning back to slice into Wax’s chest. The blade sank deeply into Wax’s flesh only to be swallowed by a sudden growth of teeth from his ribs, chomping down and holding it in place.

                Smiling, Wax drew one of his original arms back, turning it into a swollen club, but Vergil was too quick, avoiding the incoming strike by letting go of his sword and launching into a barrage of kicks and punches before ripping his blade free once again. While Vergil was retrieving his weapon, Nero lunged at Wax, landing an uppercut that launched the demon into the air so that Vergil could slice him in half.

                The two backed away from their conquest, taking deep breaths. Out of the corner of his eye Vergil saw Ichabod standing away from the group and smirked.

“Thanks for all the help, you were truly…” seeing Ichabod unaffected by his taunts, Vergil let out a deep sigh, “He’s not dead is he.”

“Got it in one,” Ichabod nodded.

“How do you…” Nero began only to be interrupted by a disgusting squelching noise.

                While they looked on a pair of spidery legs erupted from Wax’s severed torso, stabbing themselves into and dragging his legs back up to his body where they fully reattached.

“Okay, that’s…troubling,” Nero admitted.

“The man is a stew of specially selected demon parts, he’s optimized himself,” Ichabod surmised, “Not just for power but survivability.”

“Well reasoned Mr. Crowley,” Wax mocked him, sprouting another set of arms to hoist himself back onto his feet with as little effort as possible, “You have a sharp mind, I would be so very happy to add it to my collection, in fact…”

                Wax raised his hand threateningly but Ichabod only fired three bullets into it, one of which pierce through his eye and sent the demon stumbling away.

“I’m sorry, where you saying something?” Ichabod snarked.

                Roaring with an unbridled rage, Wax flew at Ichabod with a dozen new arms sprout from his body. In response, Ichabod fell backwards, directly under one of his growing orbs of demonic energy, leveling Nico’s shotgun at it and gritting his teeth before pulling the trigger. The explosion this created threw Wax into the ceiling of the room hard enough to leave a crater, and left Ichabod a smoldering wreck on the floor. Wax crashed to the ground not very far away but quickly recovered scrambling over towards Ichabod’s prone frame when out of nowhere, Vergil came swooping down, stabbing the demon’s hand into the floor.

                Nero rushed in, trying to capitalize on the opening and while the pummeled the still dazed Wax, Ichabod reached out, tugging at the hem of Vergil’s coat while pointing towards the collection of orbs he had left growing throughout the room.

“T-take…the…hint…” Ichabod managed to grunt, before passing out.

                Vergil put things together rather quickly, and jumped away from Ichabod’s fallen carcass to rejoin the battle. Together with Nero, Father and son were able to overwhelm the demon, battering him around until Wax slammed into the first of the orbs and sending him reeling from the ensuing explosion. With him stunned, the pair pressed their advantage, throwing Wax into the next and the next until the demon’s body was raw and bloody, smoke curling off his limbs. In a blatant act of desperation Wax avoided contact with the final orb by latching a pair of massive claws into the ground, but even this was foiled when Vergil stabbed him through the chest, piercing the orb behind him and creating the explosion none the less.

                With a steaming hole burned into his spine, Wax finally toppled to the ground unconscious. In the afterglow of their victory, Vergil slammed his sword back into its scabbard and, at length, found himself smiling at Nero.

“What?” the boy demanded.

“Nothing,” Vergil shook his head.

“Really? You’re not gonna say something corny like ‘we make a good team’?”

“No,” Vergil rolled his eyes.

“Whatever,” Nero just walked away, “So, what about your friend over there?” Vergil said nothing and only leered at the boy until he got the hint, “Right, stupid question,” Nero sighed, looking on at the unconscious body, “We should still probably help him out though.”

                Vergil was, reluctantly, following Nero’s lead when Wax recovered, grabbing the pair of them and slamming both into the floor, his flesh swelling around their bodies, smothering them until Vergil and Nero finally stopped moving. Staring down at them while they slept, Wax swayed on his feet, far from his peak abilities.

“I…had you…” he spat down at the pair, insisting on his point with a maddened scream, “I HAD YOU!”

                He glared down at his shaking hands, insulted and angry beyond belief at having a fair victory stolen from his grasp. Then, after taking several calming breaths, he raised his eyes towards the ceiling.

“No…” he whispered, “No, you rushed me, I wasn’t ready, I am missing a piece, it…” Wax started to grin, “Once I have it, I will win.”

Description

The House of Amut
The Cloister

                Ichabod ran close to the demon trying his damndest to hold its attention while also avoiding its strikes. A task that had become exceptionally more difficult after its transformation, the tendrils were simply too fast and much too numerous to allow him to lay a trap. Then he noticed the shattered skull face, how, every now and again, it would lunge forward through the tendrils, a heavy attack with its jaws open and much slower than the whip-like movements of its tentacles. Yet, even this was simply a random strike, a new move thrown in to catch him off guard, so he watched, he waited, studying the tells of the monster and planning for his opening.

                The opportunity finally arose, and Ichabod grabbed a vial from his gun belt, not salt this time, but phosphorus. Tossing the container into Chino’s jaw, he drew the weapon, Brier Rabbit, and fired at almost point blank range. The bullets struck the vial in mid-air, igniting the phosphorus into a ball of white-hot powder, then the secondary explosive in them activated, sending the needles flying into the demon’s neck and face, but also scattering the powder into a wide blanket that burned its way into Chino’s skin.

    Pain seized up the demon’s entire body, causing him to spasm and jerk ineffectually as its dulled mental faculties attempted to compensate for the injury. Upon seeing this, Vergil wasted no time, slicing through the demon’s mid-section and landing on the other side. Meanwhile, Ichabod did his own best to capitalize on the brief respite he had been given and drew several Devils Traps on the ground. Before the monster was able to recover, Ichabod holstered Brier Rabbit and drew his other gun, the Violet Amaryllis, and fired several rounds into Chino’s face in order to draw its attention. The ploy worked, and it lunged at Ichabod one final time, its head passing over the devils traps and being consumed by a purple energy that struggled to hold it in place.

    Vergil leapt high into the air and over the demon’s back before falling down to sever its head completely. Even as he collected himself, standing straight and sheathing his sword while the demon’s head flopped uselessly at his feet, a series of slashes ripped themselves across the demon’s chest, tearing it open until Chino’s body collapsed. With the monster conquered, Vergil hefted his katana, Yamato, onto his shoulder and smirked back at Ichabod who only scoffed.

“Show off,” he muttered, turning away to search for Nico.

The House of Amut
The Trophy Room

                Their battle had carried the whole lot of them through the area, eventually throwing Dante and Trish into the hall where they attempted to regroup. The enemy they faced was not large in size, but there certainly seemed to be a lot of them. In addition, they would grab and throw each other to an impressive explosion upon collision, all the while giggling madly like a pack of lunatics. Their skills and weapons weren’t enough to hold back the onslaught, a situation made even worse when the pack formed together into a massive ball and started rolling after them in a relentless headlong charge.

                Dante turned back on them, firing both of his guns in a vain attempt to blunt the attack, but gave up quickly instead focusing his energy into running.

“The Hell do these things keep coming from?” he yelled.

“The air vents?” Trish suggested while keeping pace.

                He grabbed her arm, dragging her with him as he sharply rounded a corner, hoping to lose their pursuer, but the rolling ball halted its momentum, changed direction and following them.

“Okay,” he shouted over a frustrated grunt as they continued their manic charge, “The way I figure, either this place has a serious infestation or there has to be a source.”

“So one splits off, the other kills the prime,” Trish surmised, then raised her fist, “Match you for it?”

                They pumped their hands three times, she threw rock and he threw scissors.

“Damn,” Dante complained, grabbing his sword and jumping back towards the roller-ball, the clump of rodents shattered, falling away, yet he continued to his attack, firing into the puddle of squirming creatures, “I got this go!”

                Trish nodded, jumping past the pair of them, even running along the wall to avoid the battle.

“Great,” she slid to a halt at the turn in the hall and started retracing their steps, “Now where’re they coming from?”

The House of Amut
The Cloister

                Vergil and Ichabod walked through the forest of nodes and vials searching for Nico.

“I wouldn’t have called it,” Ichabod broke the awkward silence, “But she’s actually pretty fast.”

“Good,” Vergil told him, “Less for us to search.”

“You’re thinking about stabbing me aren’t you?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Vergil admitted.

                Ichabod clenched his weapon, tempted to spin about and begin the fight, but then he sighed, letting the thought flee from his mind.

“When it’s over,” he repeated the warning, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Mmm,” Vergil shrugged, “I’m more for beheadings anyway.”

                Gritting his teeth, Ichabod let the threat slide on by and continued forward, finally spotting Nico at the end of a long aisle and standing in front of a vacuum sealed tube. He called out to her and she spun back to face them, anxiously pointing at a node.

“Hey!” she called out, “Hey Guys! I found Him!”

                Vergil suddenly quickened his pace, stomping ahead of Ichabod to where she was pointing and staring at the node sticking up out of the ground. His face was entirely blank as he looked over the prison which Nero had been placed in, but his fingers tightened around the sheathe of Yamato, locking it in a death grip.

“Why didn’t you open it?” he demanded.

“Um, because of that,” she pointed to an intravenous tube that had buried itself into Nero’s chest, “I don’t know what it is or what it’s doing, and it…” she stopped dead in the middle of her explanation when Vergil whipped his sword through the air, cleanly slicing through the door and the intravenous tube without ever touching Nero’s flesh, “I…um…” Nico cringed while a fine spray of water burst from the cut, staining their shoes, “I was worried that it might have been booby trapped to rip his heart out or something.”

“Open it,” Vergil growled.

“Yes sir,” she responded, reaching out for the door when everything in the cloister sprang to life, glowing and pulsating with a sudden ungodly rush of energy.

    Even as they began humming, a tidal wave swept through the area, undulating the cloister and throwing them all up into the air. This happened twice more, and, while they were attempting to recover, enormous hands spawned all across the floor, erupting upwards and consuming every node and tube. The hands pulled them into the ground with an almost maddening haste, but when they came for Nero, they were much too slow. Vergil sliced through the grasping meat-hooks one after the other, destroying them even as they arose, through his struggle, he found himself perched atop Nero’s prison, lashing out at anything which came into arms reach.

“Get him out of there!” Vergil repeated.

                Nico jumped towards the node only to find herself held back by Ichabod who simply raised a single claw from his demonic hand and sliced the door off of its hinges before setting to work on Nero’s restraints. Within seconds the unconscious demon hunter fell limply onto the ground to be collected by the pair with Nico and Ichabod both taking hold of one of his arms to pull Nero away while Vergil jumped from the node seconds before it was swallowed into the floor of the Cloister.

                The group backed away from the spot where the damaged node had been absorbed and saw the forest of tubes had also been consumed, leaving behind a bare and completely flat surface that was somehow even more haunting than the valley of glass canisters filled with body parts. Light was still being emitted but now by, what appeared to be, luminescent varicose veins all glowing and throbbing in their neon glamour beneath everyone’s feet. By this fell light, they were all able to see and finally deduce the dimensions of the massive room as well as the exit and wordlessly agreed to head towards it.

                Vergil jogged briskly ahead, taking the obvious lead but never allowing himself to pull away from either Nico or Ichabod who were both dragging the still unconscious Nero by his arms. In the midst of their panicked fleeing, Melody suddenly let out an agonized scream, clapping both hands over her ears, her voice reached such a pitch that nearly everyone around her fell to the ground with only Vergil managing to stay upright, and barely at that.

“What was…” Nico began while beside her Nero started coughing up a gut-full of fluid.

“Wh-what the H-hell’s going on…” he wondered between gasps of air.

“Oh, nice, he’s awake,” she rolled her eyes.

                Ignoring the both of them, Ichabod shambled to his feet and moved over to where Nico lay, unhooking Melody from her back and examining her. Though no longer screaming, the Faye creature was shuddering and holding her ears as blue blood seeped its way between her fingers.

“T-t-too…” she stammered, agony still written across her features, “Too…Much…”

“Ichabod,” Vergil called out, staring in baffled amazement at his own arms while his body slipped in and out of Devil Trigger.

                Nero was doing the same and even Ichabod was noticing the red lightning now coursing across his demonic arm.

“…Shit,” he muttered as the realization dawned on him and, with a look of pure terror on his face, Ichabod grabbed hold of Nico’s shoulders, “You’ve got to get her out of here!”

“Bu...” in her confusion, Nico tried to push him away, “What is wrong with you?”

“I used holy elements to create Melody,” he insisted, “The saturation of Demonic Energy in this room is killing her, Please! You have to…”

“Yes,” a man’s voice rang through-out the room, and they all turned to see him, a tall muscle-bound demon cloaked from the waist down in white with long horns growing past the small of his back while his jagged toothy maw let loose a dapper, upper crust accent, “Take her, remove the little magpie from my sight, here,” he waved his hand and the wall opened, revealing a path directly leading to the exit staircase, “I’ll even show you the way.”

“Go,” Ichabod desperately whispered, passing Melody off to Nico, “Please.”

“Fine,” she held the Faye creature’s limp body in her arms and backed away from the rest, “Come on Nero.”

“Oh no,” the demon before them clenched his fist and the exit closed itself, “Not him, he is mine for the moment.”

“Yeah,” Nero smirked, glaring at their enemy, “I’d say I am.”

“But,” she tried to argue but he was hearing none of it.

“It’s alright Nico,” he assured her, “Just get the statue thing out of here before it vomits its guts all over you.”

                Ichabod made a visible effort to ignore that comment and instead looked deeply into Nico’s eyes, openly begging her until she finally conceded.

“You…um, you’ll need…” Nico awkwardly slid the muti-barrel shotgun from her shoulder, passing it to Ichabod, holding onto the weapon, she insisted, “Don’t…”

“I’ll take good care of it,” Ichabod told her compassionately, “I’ll bring it back,” then he nodded towards Nero, “Him to.”

“Good, because if you don’t Kyrie’ll probably kill me.”

                They shared a brief laugh while Nico backed away and he slid the shotgun on. She cast a final baleful glance over her shoulder but Ichabod nodded to her, trying his best to be reassuring.

“You may leave as well, Mr. Crowley,” their captor called out, “I’ve no grudge to settle with you.”

“Give it time,” Ichabod sneered, “We’ve only just met.”

“Who the Hell are you again?” Nero demanded.

“Well that’s a very good question, let’s all sit down and discuss it,” Ichabod responded mockingly, “I’m certain this fine gentleman will give us the time we need to hash it out.”

“Wax,” their captor corrected.

“Excuse me?”

“My name is ‘Wax’.”

“…Heh, yeah,” Ichabod tried to laugh it off but felt an unmistakable cold chill running down his spine, “Like it matters.”

“Stand up,” Vergil ordered, and when Nero only glared back at him, amended, “Don’t make me take you over my knee boy.”

“Why don’t you just take five ‘pops’,” Nero sneered as he shoved himself back up to his feet, “I’ll take care of this.”

                Ichabod said nothing, simply rolling his eyes and waiting for the obvious rebuttal. Vergil seemed to have a similar reaction, allowing Nero to move ahead of the pack and rush headlong into their captor. Seconds before the two would have collided, Nero assumed his Devil Trigger mode, creating a larger shadow demon that move in an after image to him and both threw a massive roundhouse punch. The shockwave created by the attack sliced a furrow into the ground beside their captor, but Wax himself hardly flinched. He didn’t even move to block, simply accepting the strike as both the shadow and Nero struck him in the face.

“A mighty blow indeed,” Wax chuckled, a pair of arms growing out from his back, reaching over his body and slamming their fists down into Nero’s skull, collapsing the demon hunter under the weight of the combined strike.

                Both Vergil and Ichabod just shook their heads while Nero’s semi-conscious body was kicked to their feet.

“Did we learn anything today?” Ichabod asked sarcastically.

“You…you…” Nero was struggling to talk just as much as he was struggling to stand, falling down twice before finally, barely, managing to maintain verticality, “Sh-shut your… damn mouth…”

“Together then?” Vergil suggested.

“I don’t see a lot of options,” Ichabod shrugged, then looked to Nero, “You ready for this?”

“Ready,” he insisted and, despite the blood trickling from his ears, Nero seemed to be willing himself back into the fight, standing, much more stable, with his fists clenched and a determined look on his face.

                In unison, the three of them spread out, preparing their attack. Ichabod slid a vial of salt from his gun belt and discretely showed it to the others who both shared a look and nodded. Vergil swiftly drew his sword to draw Wax’s attention as Ichabod chucked the salt at the back of their captor’s head. Without even turning around, a third arm grew out of Wax’s back and slapped the vial into shards, to everyone’s shock, the salt reacted drastically the demonically charged atmosphere becoming a impressively large ball of red flame.

                Vergil and Nero didn’t allow the fireball to hold them back for very long, rushing in at once and doing their best to attack while Wax blocked their efforts with his extra arms, turning one of them into a whip-thin sword to deflect the Yamato. Ichabod stepped away from the battle, examining the situation and feeling a sudden rush of inspiration. Circling the room, he scratched a series of devil’s traps into the floor, watching as they gathered together orbs of demonic energy into their depths, he realized it would take time for the orbs to reach critical mass, but the trap was set and solid, at least, he hoped so.

                Drawing his gun, Violet Amaryllis, and moved to support the others, shooting off one of Wax’s hands before he could finish slashing downwards at Nero’s exposed throat, giving the boy a chance to escape from the clutch he had fallen into. No sooner was Nero free than Vergil came sliding behind Wax, severing most of his extra arms and then spinning back to slice into Wax’s chest. The blade sank deeply into Wax’s flesh only to be swallowed by a sudden growth of teeth from his ribs, chomping down and holding it in place.

                Smiling, Wax drew one of his original arms back, turning it into a swollen club, but Vergil was too quick, avoiding the incoming strike by letting go of his sword and launching into a barrage of kicks and punches before ripping his blade free once again. While Vergil was retrieving his weapon, Nero lunged at Wax, landing an uppercut that launched the demon into the air so that Vergil could slice him in half.

                The two backed away from their conquest, taking deep breaths. Out of the corner of his eye Vergil saw Ichabod standing away from the group and smirked.

“Thanks for all the help, you were truly…” seeing Ichabod unaffected by his taunts, Vergil let out a deep sigh, “He’s not dead is he.”

“Got it in one,” Ichabod nodded.

“How do you…” Nero began only to be interrupted by a disgusting squelching noise.

                While they looked on a pair of spidery legs erupted from Wax’s severed torso, stabbing themselves into and dragging his legs back up to his body where they fully reattached.

“Okay, that’s…troubling,” Nero admitted.

“The man is a stew of specially selected demon parts, he’s optimized himself,” Ichabod surmised, “Not just for power but survivability.”

“Well reasoned Mr. Crowley,” Wax mocked him, sprouting another set of arms to hoist himself back onto his feet with as little effort as possible, “You have a sharp mind, I would be so very happy to add it to my collection, in fact…”

                Wax raised his hand threateningly but Ichabod only fired three bullets into it, one of which pierce through his eye and sent the demon stumbling away.

“I’m sorry, where you saying something?” Ichabod snarked.

                Roaring with an unbridled rage, Wax flew at Ichabod with a dozen new arms sprout from his body. In response, Ichabod fell backwards, directly under one of his growing orbs of demonic energy, leveling Nico’s shotgun at it and gritting his teeth before pulling the trigger. The explosion this created threw Wax into the ceiling of the room hard enough to leave a crater, and left Ichabod a smoldering wreck on the floor. Wax crashed to the ground not very far away but quickly recovered scrambling over towards Ichabod’s prone frame when out of nowhere, Vergil came swooping down, stabbing the demon’s hand into the floor.

                Nero rushed in, trying to capitalize on the opening and while the pummeled the still dazed Wax, Ichabod reached out, tugging at the hem of Vergil’s coat while pointing towards the collection of orbs he had left growing throughout the room.

“T-take…the…hint…” Ichabod managed to grunt, before passing out.

                Vergil put things together rather quickly, and jumped away from Ichabod’s fallen carcass to rejoin the battle. Together with Nero, Father and son were able to overwhelm the demon, battering him around until Wax slammed into the first of the orbs and sending him reeling from the ensuing explosion. With him stunned, the pair pressed their advantage, throwing Wax into the next and the next until the demon’s body was raw and bloody, smoke curling off his limbs. In a blatant act of desperation Wax avoided contact with the final orb by latching a pair of massive claws into the ground, but even this was foiled when Vergil stabbed him through the chest, piercing the orb behind him and creating the explosion none the less.

                With a steaming hole burned into his spine, Wax finally toppled to the ground unconscious. In the afterglow of their victory, Vergil slammed his sword back into its scabbard and, at length, found himself smiling at Nero.

“What?” the boy demanded.

“Nothing,” Vergil shook his head.

“Really? You’re not gonna say something corny like ‘we make a good team’?”

“No,” Vergil rolled his eyes.

“Whatever,” Nero just walked away, “So, what about your friend over there?” Vergil said nothing and only leered at the boy until he got the hint, “Right, stupid question,” Nero sighed, looking on at the unconscious body, “We should still probably help him out though.”

                Vergil was, reluctantly, following Nero’s lead when Wax recovered, grabbing the pair of them and slamming both into the floor, his flesh swelling around their bodies, smothering them until Vergil and Nero finally stopped moving. Staring down at them while they slept, Wax swayed on his feet, far from his peak abilities.

“I…had you…” he spat down at the pair, insisting on his point with a maddened scream, “I HAD YOU!”

                He glared down at his shaking hands, insulted and angry beyond belief at having a fair victory stolen from his grasp. Then, after taking several calming breaths, he raised his eyes towards the ceiling.

“No…” he whispered, “No, you rushed me, I wasn’t ready, I am missing a piece, it…” Wax started to grin, “Once I have it, I will win.”