Vergil musing on top of Temen-ni-gru
In the end it is all about power. Whether it is the power to control or the power to refrain from control. The same means was needed to bring about different ends.
Vergil wanted the former. Was it that Dante wanted the latter? Vergil didn't know the answer. He had power already, he felt it coursing through his body. But it wasn't enough. There was more to be gained.
Vergil brought his hand up and gently caressed the amulet worn around his neck, thinking of it's twin hung around the neck of his. Were they to be on the same side, would he share his power with Dante? Both sons' of Sparda together would be a formidable force. But to share would mean to halve the power he stood to gain. No. Might is everything. Dante would be viewed as a rival no matter what.
Dante, with his progression though the tower of Temen-ni-gru had been steadily gaining power. Vergil was aware of Dante's movements and his victories over everything that had thus far stood in his way. Did Dante feel the power surging through him in the same way? Why did he shy away from it? Did Dante fear what he would become by fully embracing his demonic side, abhor the thought he may become like his twin? Vergil laughed at the idea of Dante being like himself. It was probably better this way, as his twin would have made for a more formidable opponent if he fully realised his strength.
Yet he would need his power if he were to defeat his brother. In order for Dante to defeat that which he hates, he must become what he hates. Vergil smiled, the irony amusing him. He knew that this battle was won, the victory would be his this day. Dante would be left to bleed and Vergil would gain the power he desired.
Vergil looked at the sky, the atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive with not only the rain that would fall from the heavens, but in anticipation of the coming battle. He was almost sorry that he would win. Not out of compassion for his brother, but he would miss the battles. Crossing swords with Dante was enjoyable, it made his blood run hot and it was exhilarating to fight someone with skill, a worthy opponent. If Dante would just allow himself to give in to the power he possessed, now there would be a battle! Vergil felt he would truly relish the chance to fight with Dante on more even footing.
He would never admit that deep inside that his fights with Dante meant more than just the battle. They were so different and distant from each other it was the only way they connected anymore, they had both gone too far down their respective chosen paths that there was no way to bridge that gap anymore. Vergil shook any remaining sentimental thoughts from his mind. Power was all that mattered, power was everything.
Power gave you the means to achieve your ambitions. Vergil needed his power to achieve his ambition of gaining more power. Dante needed power to achieve his ambition to protect what he thought was right.
In the end, it is all about power. Maybe they weren't so different after all.