Extra's Stories

"So do you want to test your luck with the 10x rolls?" Fate asks starting up his screen.

"Nope, I'll let you do the first rolls." She said calmly knowing his luck was much higher than her, she would like to know what he could get first.

Opening up his skill, Fate pressed it. A circle of light appears in front of them, it spins before splitting into 10 cards.

Elemental HERO Flame Wingman (Yu-Gi-Oh)

Dante's Coat (DMC3)

Pot of Greed (Yu-Gi-Oh)

Red Jacket (Fate Grand Order)

Red Scissor Blade (Kill la Kill)

Infinite Pizza

Devil's Bandana (Fate Grand Order)

MoonVeil (Elden Ring)

Gate of the Deadly Sin: Lust

Fire Devil Slayer Magic

The two look at the 10 cards in front of them with shocked expressions. Some cards don't have much use but his focus was on the four cards. [Elemental HERO Flame Wingman], [Pot of Greed], [Gate of the Deadly Sin: Lust], [Fire Devil Slayer Magic].

After grabbing the [Elemental HERO Flame Wingman] card it glows a silver light, turning into an Alter Ego Class Card. 

[Pot of Greed] - Once time use - Draw two cards.

[Gate of the Deadly Sin: Lust] - Item - A black key that opens the gate to hell summoning the Sinful Spirit Fox: Ahri.

[Fire Devil Slayer Magic] - Once time use - Gain access to the Lost Magic: Devil Slayer Magic.

"Jackpot!" The other six cards don't have much use but these four are awesome.

One is a one-time use to draw two cards that will work well with his skill [Storm Access], one is a new Class Card, and the other two are magics that he currently doesn't have.

"Huh, you really are lucky." She commented, seeing him install the card gaining it skill before uninstalling it.

He then used his [Fire Devil Slayer Magic] card gaining the lost magic before raising the black key.

Open: Gate of the Sin of Lust: Ahri!

A dark blue magic circle flared to life, blue flames erupting from its core.

From the swirling energy stepped a black-haired fox girl, draped in a silken white kimono that accentuated her hourglass figure. Her curves were generous, her features exquisite, and behind her, three plush, white tails swayed with effortless grace.

Her gaze alone was enough to ensnare men, her aura an intoxicating mix of temptation and danger.

Fate's icy blue eyes took her in with calm indifference.

The fox spirit's lips curled into a sultry smile.

"Ara ara~ To think I'd be summoned inside someone's mind." Her voice dripped with amusement, layered with an unmistakable allure.

Fate remained unfazed.

"Let's cut to the chase. Let's make a contract."

His tone was businesslike, his stance relaxed. He failed to notice the menacing blue glare burning into the back of his head.

Ahri's tails flicked, intrigued by his lack of reaction.

"Very well, Master. I'll be free every day except weekends… unless, of course, you find yourself in need of my company. Then, I might make an exception."

Her words carried a playful challenge—a test.

Most men who summoned her succumbed instantly to their desires, drowning in lustful indulgence.That was what made the Deadly Sin Keys so dangerous.

They didn't just grant power. They tempted. They corrupted.And if the summoner wasn't prepared to resist, they became nothing more than a puppet of their own vices.

Fate, however, remained unmoved.

"Sure. Let's keep it at that."

Still not even a glance at her body.

Still completely unfazed by her magic.

"If that's all, you can leave now."

With a casual flick of his wrist, he dismissed her.

The gate snapped shut, and Ahri vanished, her seductive magic fading along with her.

Behind Fate, Morgan bristled, struggling to suppress the irrational jealousy creeping up her spine.

But none of them realized what had just happened.

Somewhere, in the unseen realm of sins, the Sinful Spirit of Lust stirred.

For the first time in its existence, it felt rejected.

Not ignored. Not underestimated.

Flat-out rejected.

By a mortal.

By a contractor who hadn't even bothered to glance at what she offered.

And for that, Fate Redgrave had just piqued Lust's interest in a way no one ever had.

"I think it's time to wake up."

Fate said, turning to Morgan.

They both snapped their eyes open, immediately realizing they were no longer outside.

Instead, they were inside a house.

"So you're awake."

The two turned toward the familiar voice, spotting Vergil seated on a plastic chair, his expression unreadable.

Fate reacted instantly.

With a sharp kick, the wooden table flipped into the air, hurtling toward Vergil.

The older man merely caught it with one hand, his grip firm, before dropping it to the side. His instincts flared.

In a blink, the Yamato was drawn.

Steel met steel.

Fate had already closed the distance, his married blades clashing against Vergil's katana. Sparks flickered as their weapons locked.

Their icy blue eyes met—both filled with challenge, neither backing down.

With a powerful flick, Vergil sent the younger fighter skidding back before smoothly sheathing the Yamato once more.

"Stand down, kid." He sat back in his chair, exuding complete control. "I'm not here to fight. I just want to talk."

Fate and Morgan exchanged glances before narrowing their gazes at Vergil again, still on guard.

Vergil sighed. "Look, I know you're still pissed about getting your ass kicked. But you're still alive, so no harm done."

"No harm done, my ass! You actually killed me!" Fate shot back, eyes twitching in irritation.

Vergil exhaled through his nose, already regretting this conversation.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," he said simply. "You're standing here, aren't you? That's proof enough you didn't actually die."

Fate: "..."

He stared at Vergil, completely done with his logic. Morgan aside, no one would believe he had already died four times.

Vergil shifted the topic.

"Do you know your father?"

Fate's expression didn't change, but Morgan scoffed. "What do you know about fathers?"

The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. Her father, Uther Pendragon, had cast her aside. Philza didn't count—he had adopted her. And Vergil probably had no idea who he was.

Fate shrugged. "Never met the guy."

His voice was completely indifferent.

Vergil: "..."

"I've lived just fine without him. Why would I care about him now? What's he gonna do now? Pay child support?"

Vergil had to suppress his anger. This brat…

He took a deep breath. "As much as it pains me to say this… your father is my younger brother. His name is Dante."

"..."

Fate blinked.

"Okay. So now what?"

Vergil frowned. "That's it? That is your reaction?"

Fate raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to care? My memories are a mess anyway. I'm more focused on finding my mother."

Vergil was stunned by the sheer lack of interest. But he could understand—his mother probably did her best to raise him alone. 

Morgan, however, shot Fate a skeptical glance. To find Scathach, he'd have to die and reach the Land of Shadows.

Vergil studied Fate before shifting his attention to Morgan.

"I see… Did something happen to your mother, or is this just a journey to reunite?"

Fate's expression softened. "She's… in a faraway place."

The sadness in his tone made Vergil pause. He closed his eyes in understanding, deciding not to pry.

What does he understand? They don't know.

Instead, he turned back to Morgan. "And you? How do you feel about all this?"

Morgan hesitated. "Me? Uh… well, I don't think his mother and I are on good terms…"

She looked away, recalling the day Fate ascended into the Avenger Class: Oda Nobunaga.

Everything in his inner world had erupted in heat before shutting down. She had been forced to retreat to another section of his mind.

When she returned… the four Class Cards were all that remained.

She still didn't know exactly what had happened, but she wasn't about to explain it now—he wouldn't believe her anyway.

Vergil caught the hesitation but let it slide. Instead, something else caught his attention.

"Wait… are you two—"

"No, we're not siblings," Morgan cut in quickly. "I'm his soulmate. Our souls are bound together. The white hair and blue eyes are just a coincidence."

Vergil blinked. "Oh. I see."

He was… surprised, but decided not to press further.

Fate exhaled. "So… what now?"

A moment of silence followed. Then Vergil spoke.

"You can stay here for now. After all, I'm the one who brought you both here."

Fate thought for a moment before nodding.

"I guess we can stay for a bit."

The Next Day

After spending the night at Vergil's place, Fate and Morgan found themselves meeting two unexpected visitors—Lady and Trish.

The moment the two women laid eyes on Morgan, their expressions shifted from curiosity to something… almost maternal.

"Aren't you just adorable?" Trish smirked, arms crossed as she gave Morgan a once-over.

"She's got this cool, elegant vibe," Lady added, tilting her head thoughtfully. "But I feel like we could bring out more of her beauty."

Morgan blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. "What?"

Trish grinned. "Shopping. We're taking you out. You need a proper wardrobe."

Morgan opened her mouth to refuse, but before she could protest, Lady had already grabbed her wrist. "No arguments. This is happening."

Morgan turns toward Fate for help, only to see him sitting calmly and drinking a can of Monster Energy to take from the fridge. Not moving a muscle to help her.

She felt betrayed by him, but she couldn't say anything.

This was a part of their relationship, and she was already used to it by now.

"Wait—what about him?" she asked, trying to get them to drag Fate along.

Lady waved him off dismissively. "Vergil can babysit."

Fate's eye twitched. "Babysit?!"

Morgan let out a small chuckle as Lady and Trish pulled her toward the door. "Enjoy your quality time, Fate."

Fate watched as the door shut behind them, leaving him alone with his uncle.

A heavy silence filled the room.

Fate took another sip of his Monster Energy can.

"...So now what?" Fate muttered.

Vergil simply unsheathed Yamato.

"Training."

Fate and Vergil stepped into the backyard of the shop, their boots crunching against the dirt as they moved into position. With no words needed, they drew their swords—not relying on magic, Devil Arms, or any special abilities.

This was purely a test of skill.

The clash of steel rang through the air as they engaged in a quick but intense spar, their movements swift and precise. Neither wasted energy on unnecessary flourishes, each strike measured and calculated.

After a few exchanges, Vergil effortlessly knocked Fate back with a flick of his wrist, forcing the younger swordsman to skid across the ground.

Fate clicked his tongue, standing up and dusting himself off. "Tch. Fine, you win."

Vergil calmly sheathed Yamato. "You still lack refinement. Your form is aggressive, but reckless."

Fate huffed but didn't argue. Instead, his gaze sharpened with curiosity. "Alright, you win this round… but show me your Devil Arms."

Vergil raised an eyebrow at the request, but after a moment, he shrugged. "Fine."

With a flick of his wrist, Vergil summoned his Devil Arms, each weapon materializing in a flash of demonic energy.

Alastor, the thunderous blade.Cerberus, the tri-headed nunchaku.Agni & Rudra, the twin elemental swords.Nevan, the electrified scythe-guitar.Beowulf, the devastating gauntlets and greaves.

Fate's icy blue eyes glowed with intrigue as he took in the collection.

At the same time, he reached into his Reality Marble, attempting to Trace the weapons before him. The forms of the Devil Arms flickered into existence in his Reality Marble.

Then, his gaze drifted to one final blade hanging on the wall.

A massive, imposing weapon—the Devil Sword Sparda.

Something about it called to him.

He had already attempted to trace it before, but instead, a different blade had appeared in his Reality Marble—the Forge Edge. While the weapon had a similar origin, it lacked the overwhelming demonic essence of the Devil Sword Sparda.

Not good enough.

Without hesitation, Fate stepped forward, reaching for the sword.

In an instant, Vergil caught his wrist, stopping him mid-motion. Before Fate could react, the older swordsman effortlessly threw him backward, sending him crashing to the ground.

"H-Hey!" Fate growled, rubbing his back as he sat up.

Vergil's piercing blue eyes narrowed. "I see you've inherited Dante's hunger for power."

Fate frowned but didn't deny it. He was strong, but not strong enough. And every time he hit a wall, the only answer that ever made sense to him was simple:

"I need more power."

Vergil sighed, crossing his arms. "You're still young. It's not too late to fix that reckless mindset."

Fate scowled but didn't argue. His uncle wasn't wrong.

For now, he'd listen.

But deep down, he knew—he wouldn't stop chasing strength.

After finishing his sparring session with Vergil, Fate decided to take a shower to wash away the sweat and dust.

As the water ran over his skin, he casually spoke loud enough for his uncle to hear. "So, how's business going?"

Vergil, who was sitting in his office, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's going fine. But finish showering first, then we can talk."

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling in thought.

Fate might not have known much about his father—hell, he barely even cared—but his behavior? It was far too familiar.

Bold. Reckless. A bit of a loose screw.

It reminded Vergil of Dante in his early years, back when the fool had no sense of responsibility and only cared about fighting, eating, and doing whatever the hell he wanted.

Vergil had no intention of letting his nephew walk that same path—a path that led to abandoning his humanity.

He wanted Fate to understand. To accept both his human side and his devil side.

Then, the bathroom door creaked open.

Vergil turned around—and froze.

His nephew stepped out, hair down and damp, dressed in black combat boots and dark pants. Over his shoulders, he wore a red trench coat, one that had zippers on the sleeves, a buckle around the waist, and two brown leather holsters strapped to the back. A thick rubber strap ran across his chest from within his coat.

And underneath? Nothing.

He was shirtless, exuding a cocky, devil-may-care attitude, casually holding a slice of pizza in one hand.

Vergil's eye twitched violently.

Fate looked exactly like Dante.

Dante from Devil May Cry 3.

The only difference was that his hair was a bit longer, and he lacked Rebellion.

Fate took a bite of his pizza and raised an eyebrow. "What's with the look? You look like you just saw a ghost."

Vergil clenched his fists, his blue eyes narrowing into a cold glare.

'THAT'S BECAUSE YOU LOOK IDENTICAL TO THAT DAMN GHOST!'

Fate, completely unaware of the inner turmoil he had just inflicted upon his uncle, walked over and casually plopped himself into the main chair of the office, leaning back with his feet kicked up on the desk.

Vergil's glare intensified.

If he didn't know better, he would have thought his damn brother had somehow crawled back out of the underworld and was sitting right in front of him.

Time passed, and soon, the girls returned from their shopping trip.

Just as they walked through the door, Lady's eyes landed on Fate—still lounging in Vergil's chair, looking like a damn carbon copy of Dante.

Her jaw dropped.

Then, in the blink of an eye, she whipped out Kalina Ann, the massive missile launcher already locked and loaded.

"DANTE, YOU BASTARD—!!"

Vergil barely had time to react before she pulled the trigger.

BOOM!

The entire shop rumbled from the explosion, smoke filling the room as debris scattered.

"The hell, Lady!?" Trish yelled, stepping back as Fate leaped out of the chair, dodging the blast.

"What the hell do you mean 'the hell'!?" Lady snapped, already reloading. "Dante faked his death or something and is sitting here like nothing happened!"

"Wrong guy."

Vergil's cold voice cut through the commotion as the smoke cleared, revealing Fate—completely unharmed—standing with a half-eaten slice of pizza in one hand and an unimpressed look on his face.

"That's not Dante."

Lady blinked. "…Huh?"

Fate swallowed his bite and continued eating his Infinite Pizza.

Vergil then stepped in and said. "That's Fate. Not Dante."

Silence.

Lady's brain short-circuited. Trish, on the other hand, just crossed her arms and smirked.

"Damn… The kid really does look like his father... And here I thought hell would freeze over first. Still, where did he get an identical coat to his father?"

Vergil just shrugs. "I don't know," he then turns toward his nephew. "Where did you get that?"

"Found it. Look cool so I decided to wear it." Fate said taking another bite of his pizza.

If the coats were the same model, then it wouldn't be too hard to understand, but the coat Fate is wearing has the same torn sleeve as Dante.

Once the misunderstanding was cleared—and Lady reluctantly put her rocket launcher away—Vergil finally sat everyone down and got to the main topic.

"There's a place called Fortuna," he started. "Home to an organization known as the Order of the Sword."

Fate raised an eyebrow. "Never heard of 'em."

Vergil continued. "They worship Sparda as a god. The people there see devils as divine beings, and my father is at the center of their beliefs."

That caught both Fate's and Morgan's attention.

Vergil had his own reasons for being interested—this was a chance to learn more about their father's legacy.

Fate, on the other hand, had an entirely different reason. His gaze subtly flicked toward the wall, where the Devil Sword Sparda was still hanging.

He wanted that blade.

"So… when do we leave?" Fate asked.

Vergil's sharp eyes flickered over to him, but he didn't comment. Instead, he stood up.

"Prepare yourselves first. We'll leave when we're ready."

Fate again tries to reach for the Sparda only for Vergil to catch his wrist and toss him to the second floor far away from the Sparda.

After they all prepare to leave, Vergil calls for Trish not seeing his partner anywhere, only to find out she has already left taking the Sparda with her and leaving the message "see you there" written in red marker on the wall.