Finally updated and finished.


"You are the vermin, Beowulf. You attack when my back is turned. Where is your honour?"

"There is no honour in your treachery, you are worthy of no respect despite your strength. I will never bow to you, you disgrace us by your miserable existence. I will pit my strength against yours, without the Neo Generator. A fair match between us. To defeat you with it would be an empty win."

Sparda, blood boiling at Beowulf's threat to his companion readied himself and brought his sword up blocking Beowulf's first attack.

From then on, it was all a blur. She backed into a corner, but there was no where to retreat to, so she watched the figures that were moving too fast for her human eyes to focus on as she crouched in a position that made her as small as possible. She instinctively threw her arm up to shield her eyes as she was nearly blinded by a brilliant white light. As it faded she cautiously lowered her arm, fearful for Sparda - she knew it wasn't him for she'd seen him in battle many times and had never witnessed anything like that- but saw him temporarily still at the opposite side of the expansive chamber. Relief swept over her, as even though she wasn't for this life much longer, and she had seen many terrifying things, she knew if Sparda failed, she would die here. And this tower with its intrinsic evil was the most blood chilling thing she'd ever experienced, and some of its occupants more terror inducing than anything she'd ever seen before.

Sparda lunged at his opponent, a low growl resonating from deep in his throat, Beowulf evaded to the side and in response Sparda swung around midair bringing his sword in a powerful downward arc. All she made out next as blood sprayed through the air, a fine mist of it hitting her dress, was the ear-splitting scream of pain that came from Beowulf that wasn't dulled by her hands over her ears, and the promises of his vengeance as he retreated hastily cursing Sparda's name.

Sparda walked over and offered an arm to help her rise, which she gratefully took. "Will he return?" She asked.

"I strongly doubt it. Demons heal well from injuries, but even he will take a long time to recover from that one, if he ever regains his sight in that eye."

She wondered at his answer. She had seen Sparda sustain injury in battle just to see it disappear like it had never been there. With healing abilities like that she couldn't see how one injury could be so debilitating. Yet she'd also seen demons fall in battle too, so decided to just accept what he said. His knowledge of his own kind was not something she felt she was in any position to question.

Though it seemed to happen so quickly, the fight with Beowulf had actually postponed their journey quite considerably. Time was not something that they had in abundance. It was only a matter of time before the demons regrouped as one of great strength would rise to lead them into the human world, or even Mundus would manage to overcome the injuries Sparda had inflicted. The longer they took, the more dangerous it became. Picking her up, Sparda swiftly moved through the tower at a pace she could never have hoped to match. Sometimes he would set her down to place a key artefact somewhere or activate a strange wheel shaped device on a wall. These always caused the tower to shake making her think that the entire place was about to come crashing around her ears.

"What is that shaking?" She called as he ran, not sure that even he would hear her before the wind carried her voice away.

Turning his head slightly so the human on his back had some chance of hearing him, he replied, "The tower is closing off."

"Oh." She wasn't sure she understood what he went.

Sparda slowed down and set her on the ground. "There's not much farther to go now. Do you need a rest?"

"No, I'm fine really." She saw the look that briefly crossed Sparda's eyes. Even in this form his sorrow was recognisable. "But, maybe I should take a short break." She smiled. To change the subject she asked about the tower again.

"I see. When the wheels; as you call them, are activate, they rotate the tower, opening up new areas and closing others off. Even though you probably hadn't noticed, we have been all over the tower, except for the very top of it. I was closing off the upper areas, so now, without the right keys, it can't be accessed any more." Sparda explained.

"I understand now. But the tower won't fully close until I…" The sentence was left hanging.


"I suppose we should hurry." She said as she got back to her feet. "The longer we dally, the more time we give our enemies."

She placed herself on Sparda's back again and braced herself for the rush of cold air as he started running again.

As they approached the sacrificial chamber a voice spoke behind them. "Hello there, Handsome. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

Sparda's companion alighted to the floor again.

"Nevan." Sparda looked round at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, you know me, I never could resist the most handsome devil in the underworld." She smiled coyly. "Besides, I wanted to see the woman you appear to have forsaken me for." She then smiled baring her fangs playfully at the woman.

"I have not forsaken you as there was nothing to forsake. You would do well to mind your place woman and not forget it." Sparda growled.

"Oh, I love it an assertive male." Nevan smiled, looking unperturbed by Sparda's warning. "You're no fun anymore. Well, just remember, when the nights get cold in the mortal world and a mortal woman just isn't enough to keep you warm, you know where to find me." With that, Nevan turned back to where she had come from and walked away swinging her hips for effect.

Sparda sighed at her retreating back. She was a truly beautiful demon, but she could be tiresome at times. He turned back to his companion. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I will ever be, brother."

He smiled at the familiar name. She had not used it all the time she'd been in the tower as far as he could recall. He had wondered if she had been trying to disassociate herself from him, though he wasn't sure why. He sighed and accepted there was still so much more about humans he needed to learn.

He placed a clawed hand gently on her shoulder. "Then let us go, sister."

The inside of the chamber was bright, yet the light seemed to be diffused at the same time giving it an almost neon effect. The blue was strangely calming she mused, wondering if it was by accident or by design.

In the centre of the circular room was a hollow built into the floor. She walked up to it. "I suppose this is it?" He voice was quiet, even in the eerie silence of the room.

"It is." Sparda walked up and cradled her in his arms. She was trembling. Sparda was at a loss of how to react. It pained him, it angered him that she had to feel this, he was aware that deep down in the locked away corners of his mind that he'd long since abandoned, her fear excited him. He did the only thing he thought would help, he held he tighter.

They stayed like that, standing in the middle of the chamber until she drew in a deep breath and pulled away from him. "This is silly. I am acting like a frightened child, I am sorry."

"There is no shame in fear. Sometimes to fear is healthy, you taught me that."

She laughed, but it was hollow. "But sometimes we need to have the ability to put our fear aside and do what needs to be done." She knelt down beside the hollow in the floor and drew a knife from the travelling pack.

Sparda knelt opposite her and took the knife from her. "I will make the offering first." Placing his hand over the hollow, he ran the blade across his hand, spilling blood into the depression.

She reached across and took the knife from him. She smiled as she mentally prepared herself to act before her courage failed her. "You have been my friend for these many years, and I thank you for that my brother." She raised and ran the blade across her throat before he could get to her.

Sparda caught her before she dropped from the pain, she was losing blood but she had cut her throat badly, her shaking hand had missed the larger blood vessels that would bring her a more humane death. Sparda held her, her blood mingling with his own. The bubbling in her throat as she instinctively fought for breath and life became too much. He knelt behind her, with her leaning back into him. He took her head gently in his now human looking hands, kissed her on the top of her head and said softly, "I am going to stop the pain now, sister."

He had made it from the tower with time to spare, but he had not watched the last of it disappear from view. He walked away from it and refused to look back, she would not have wanted him to.

Holding the small brown leather book, he approached the small abode that had once been her home. A young girl of no more that fifteen winters was outside pouring water from a bucket into smaller separate containers. Sparda walked up to her and handed her the book. "This was your mother's. Guard it well." Without another word he left. The girls appearance made him smile, but his feelings of grief were too raw to stay and talk to her, especially now he had to deal with his still infant humanity alone. Reaching the hill where they had sat the night they had set out on their journey, he looked in the direction of where the tower had once stood and remembered.


Matier rose from the rock she was sitting on. "And that; Son of Sparda, as they say, is that. I said I would tell you a story of your father, and this one has been handed down in the clan over the many generations since. After that things got really interesting. Her daughter, having reached her nineteenth winter…"

Dante and Lucia patiently sat on the other side of the small campfire as Matier, unintentionally continued with her story.


Final A/N: I was dubious about writing the sacrificial chamber as it was in this, as in DMC3 the thing got wrecked when the tower activated, so therefore, in this, as the tower is activated already, it technically wouldn't be there. But then I figured that in DMC3, it had once been activated before, ie: 2000 years before hand, and Dante fought Vergil in there, and it wasn't wrecked, so therefore the tower could have been activated before in a way that left the sacrificial chamber in one piece. So this is the premise I'm working on.

I know that chances are, in something I haven't read, or can't remember reading, this probably splits off from all continuity and cannon of the game, but I really wanted to play about with the idea of Sparda's journey (in a shortened version) in the Temmen-ni-gru and the idea of him placing everything in the tower from the demons guarding it to the artefacts dotted around the place to keep out intruders, was for me, too much fun to pass up.