The good old days.

Remembering those good times back in the day, spending his time now in a place no mortal man would ever want to go, the fiery lakes of hell licking at Vergil's cheeks but not bothering him in the slightest. He sat on a rock pondering those events of the past. A part of the small mountain with which he was posted on began to move, as if alive. The sword Yamato fell from its sheath and stabbed its tip through the movement, and in a moment it ceased. A pillar of lava shot from the pool in the form of an eruption, close but at a safe enough distance to only illuminate the son of Sparda's form. It was not a mountain he was posted on, but a mountain of dead demons. Many species of demonic entities lay at Vergil's mercy. It seemed not even hell itself could quench the young son of Sparda's thirst for blood and power. And yet, could he not help but think of past events with his brother, Dante? He wondered more why he was thinking about it rather than actually thinking about it. Good and bad times, it never mattered. He always had fun, but he could never figure out why.

The day he first went to school. Knowing his intellect even as a youngster far surpassed any normal Human which would be more than he could say for his brother, he even had the option to skip the first two years of school, therefore making him perfect for first grade right from the start. He eventually quit near the third because of his intellect even going so far as to exceed College level, rendering the idea of going to school completely pointless. He obtained a degree at the young age of twelve. That was then, though... His mother's death drove him to obtain power necessary to protect those close to him, and he would go so far as to challenge hell itself to obtain that power. That was something his brother could never understand, nor accept.

Closing his eyes and drifting off to a dream, he imagined the school building almost vividly. The years had not touched his memory in the slightest. Walking up to those two doors he had his backpack slung over his shoulder and his brother at his side. A stern expression on his face while his brother was needlessly excited, although Vergil, noticing this, smiled as well. He wasn't who he was in the future, he was much more easily pleased, the same as his brother only a little bit less. Where Dante was reckless, Vergil was calm, but he was still different than the normal attitude which associated with himself in the future. Kids were everywhere inside, and naturally, Vergil felt nervousness greet him. He looked over to his brother for some small sign of comfort, knowing he would provide him with it naturally as any brother would.