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Dante felt an itch in his wings and rubbed his backward-jointed hind legs against the double-layered wings behind him. He stretched his new, housecat-sized body, and the friction of the tiny spines on his legs against his scaly skin produced a faint rustling sound. Dante liked to think he looked like some cool beetle—was it a stag beetle or something?
After being separated into human and demon by the Yamato, the self-proclaimed "Demon King Beetle" didn’t keep the spoils to himself. Dante thought he’d done well by sharing the pizza on his "throne" with his "subjects"—those tiny creatures feasting on the crumbs. They were far more resilient and prolific than real demons, a terrifying force in their own right.
If left undisturbed, the "Demon King" might have ruled his office domain forever, leading his tiny legion to greatness, until that destined person pushed open the door.
The office was stuffy and hot, with a damp smell mixed with food odors. Nero didn’t close the door behind him; instead, he went to open a window to air out the place before turning on the light. Was nobody home? He heard faint rustling from the desk and saw something moving in the pile of pizza boxes.
"Don’t tell me there’s a rat in there," he thought. Stepping lightly, Nero approached, planning to toss the entire pile of trash and its unknown occupant into the garbage.
His half-demon vision let him see more clearly in the dark, and as he got closer, he noticed cockroaches scuttling around the pizza crumbs. Disgusting. Couldn’t Dante have taken out the trash before leaving? Nero steeled himself and reached out, hoping to grab the pests all at once. But just as his fingers brushed the pizza box, he saw something larger, oil-slicked, and grotesquely insectoid beneath it.
"Shit!"
Dante heard the shout and the swish of something cutting through the air. Then came the pain on his head. And that was just the beginning. Before he could even crawl out from under the box, a relentless barrage of hits rained down on him, accompanied by a voice he knew all too well.
"Holy shit! What kind of massive cockroach is this?!"
Nero both horrified and determined, swung a rolled-up magazine like a weapon. The smaller roaches fled in panic, but Nero didn’t care. He kept hammering away at the giant insect in the pizza box, both of them screaming in unison.
"Nero! Nero! It’s me! Dante!"
Garbage and debris flew everywhere from the force of the blows. When Nero finally got a good look at the shiny creature, he swore his demonic instincts kicked in. "Like hell you're Dante! This shitty office has attracted some cockroach demon! And it’s breeding!"
Hearing no more movement from the heap of trash, Nero tossed aside the bent magazine, hoping he hadn't squashed an egg sac. Carefully, he picked up the pizza box containing the giant cockroach and flung it out the door.
Dante tumbled down the steps, dazed and humiliated. He had promised himself not to step outside in this form until Vergil found and reunited him with his human half. Now, thanks to Nero’s insectophobia, he’d been ejected like common trash. Using the pizza box lid as a shield, he tried to hide his battered, leaking body. He probably looked more terrifying than Urizen now. One point for Dante.
Vergil arrived just in time to see his brother sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, smiling—or, at least, making the demon equivalent of a smile, which probably looked like a predatory grimace.
"What happened to you?"
"Your kid didn’t recognize me," Dante whispered.
From inside the office, Nero’s voice could still be heard cursing the infestation. Vergil’s mouth twitched in what might have been amusement if you squinted hard enough.
Pinching Dante’s outer wing spines between his fingers, Vergil carried the deflated bug back indoors. Nero, busy cleaning, froze when he saw his father holding the creature he had just ejected.
"Why the hell did you bring that thing back?" he asked, suppressing a shiver at the memory of its oily shine.
"That thing is Dante," Vergil replied.
It took Nero a full ten seconds to process this revelation.
"Wait. So you’ve been sitting there all day eating pizza like a bug?"
"And scaring off delivery guys," Dante added proudly, patting his chest with his forelegs. "They ran like hell. No tips required."
The sheer absurdity left Nero speechless. He stared at his uncle, who looked like something out of an exterminator’s nightmare. A phrase popped into Nero's mind: "Lose your humanity, lose a lot; lose your beastliness, lose everything." His uncle had lost his humanity and turned into a bug. On the plus side, he wasn't rampaging through the city in demon form. On the minus side...well, Nero really didn't want to think about the minus side.
"Where's his human side?" he asked Vergil.
"I search every day, but there’s no sign of any magical energy."
"If it’s as fragile as V was—maybe even weaker—that’s bad, right?"
"If the human half dies, Dante will be stuck like this forever. You should start getting used to it now."
"Hey! I’m not that ugly!" Dante protested, his wings flaring and glowing faintly red. His miniature true-demon form just happened to look like a beetle. Or maybe a cockroach. Or a stag beetle. Definitely a beetle.
Vergil wiped a greasy smear from Dante’s wings with a tissue. "I believe his human side must be healthy and strong."
"Yeah," Dante muttered. "Probably out there, enjoying a peaceful life away from your cranky ass."
This irritable little creature might look pitiful now, but Vergil was determined to restore him. Not for justice or brotherly love—just to stop the annoyance of having his brother scuttling around the house like an oversized roach.
Dante felt an itch in his wings and rubbed his backward-jointed hind legs against the double-layered wings behind him. He stretched his new, housecat-sized body, and the friction of the tiny spines on his legs against his scaly skin produced a faint rustling sound. Dante liked to think he looked like some cool beetle—was it a stag beetle or something?
After being separated into human and demon by the Yamato, the self-proclaimed "Demon King Beetle" didn’t keep the spoils to himself. Dante thought he’d done well by sharing the pizza on his "throne" with his "subjects"—those tiny creatures feasting on the crumbs. They were far more resilient and prolific than real demons, a terrifying force in their own right.
If left undisturbed, the "Demon King" might have ruled his office domain forever, leading his tiny legion to greatness, until that destined person pushed open the door.
The office was stuffy and hot, with a damp smell mixed with food odors. Nero didn’t close the door behind him; instead, he went to open a window to air out the place before turning on the light. Was nobody home? He heard faint rustling from the desk and saw something moving in the pile of pizza boxes.
"Don’t tell me there’s a rat in there," he thought. Stepping lightly, Nero approached, planning to toss the entire pile of trash and its unknown occupant into the garbage.
His half-demon vision let him see more clearly in the dark, and as he got closer, he noticed cockroaches scuttling around the pizza crumbs. Disgusting. Couldn’t Dante have taken out the trash before leaving? Nero steeled himself and reached out, hoping to grab the pests all at once. But just as his fingers brushed the pizza box, he saw something larger, oil-slicked, and grotesquely insectoid beneath it.
"Shit!"
Dante heard the shout and the swish of something cutting through the air. Then came the pain on his head. And that was just the beginning. Before he could even crawl out from under the box, a relentless barrage of hits rained down on him, accompanied by a voice he knew all too well.
"Holy shit! What kind of massive cockroach is this?!"
Nero, both horrified and determined, swung a rolled-up magazine like a weapon. The smaller roaches fled in panic, but Nero didn’t care. He kept hammering away at the giant insect in the pizza box, both of them screaming in unison.
"Nero! Nero! It’s me! Dante!"
Garbage and debris flew everywhere from the force of the blows. When Nero finally got a good look at the shiny creature, he swore his demonic instincts kicked in. "Like hell you're Dante! This shitty office has attracted some cockroach demon! And it’s breeding!"
Hearing no more movement from the heap of trash, Nero tossed aside the bent magazine, hoping he hadn't squashed an egg sac. Carefully, he picked up the pizza box containing the giant cockroach and flung it out the door.
Dante tumbled down the steps, dazed and humiliated. He had promised himself not to step outside in this form until Vergil found and reunited him with his human half. Now, thanks to Nero’s insectophobia, he’d been ejected like common trash. Using the pizza box lid as a shield, he tried to hide his battered, leaking body. He probably looked more terrifying than Urizen now. One point for Dante.
Vergil arrived just in time to see his brother sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, smiling—or, at least, making the demon equivalent of a smile, which probably looked like a predatory grimace.
"What happened to you?"
"Your kid didn’t recognize me," Dante whispered.
From inside the office, Nero’s voice could still be heard cursing the infestation. Vergil’s mouth twitched in what might have been amusement if you squinted hard enough.
Pinching Dante’s outer wing spines between his fingers, Vergil carried the deflated bug back indoors. Nero, busy cleaning, froze when he saw his father holding the creature he had just ejected.
"Why the hell did you bring that thing back?" he asked, suppressing a shiver at the memory of its oily shine.
"That thing is Dante," Vergil replied.
It took Nero a full ten seconds to process this revelation.
"Wait. So you’ve been sitting there all day eating pizza like a bug?"
"And scaring off delivery guys," Dante added proudly, patting his chest with his forelegs. "They ran like hell. No tips required."
The sheer absurdity left Nero speechless. He stared at his uncle, who looked like something out of an exterminator’s nightmare. A phrase popped into Nero's mind: "Lose your humanity, lose a lot; lose your beastliness, lose everything." His uncle had lost his humanity and turned into a bug. On the plus side, he wasn't rampaging through the city in demon form. On the minus side...well, Nero really didn't want to think about the minus side.
"Where's his human side?" he asked Vergil.
"I search every day, but there’s no sign of any magical energy."
"If it’s as fragile as V was—maybe even weaker—that’s bad, right?"
"If the human half dies, Dante will be stuck like this forever. You should start getting used to it now."
"Hey! I’m not that ugly!" Dante protested, his wings flaring and glowing faintly red. His miniature true-demon form just happened to look like a beetle. Or maybe a cockroach. Or a stag beetle. Definitely a beetle.
Vergil wiped a greasy smear from Dante’s wings with a tissue. "I believe his human side must be healthy and strong."
"Yeah," Dante muttered. "Probably out there, enjoying a peaceful life away from your cranky ass."
This irritable little creature might look pitiful now, but Vergil was determined to restore him. Not for justice or brotherly love—just to stop the annoyance of having his brother scuttling around the house like an oversized roach.