But. As the Yamato flew out, its launch uneasy due to its imperfect fit, Sam caught it by the tsuka and, using its momentum, swung it deep into Vergil’s neck. Not deep enough to decapitate him— but it was close.

His and Sam’s eyes locked. A brief, pregnant pause— and then the final race began.

Vergil rubbed the Defibrillators together, the heat grew unbearable, yellow, to red, to blue, to purple, then back to blue, to cyan—while Sam reduced Yamato to a saw, pulling its steel back and forth through Vergil’s flesh, through his bone (his own blade— his! a Son of Sparda’s) cutting through sinew after sinew, faster than any flame could possibly heal. Vergil’s head felt so loose, but he had to keep scraping stone together, transform the fire of life to flames of destruction, cyan to pink, pink to lighter pink— blood squirted onto the Defibrillators, they seeped through the cracks, reduced the friction— lighter pink to a pure raging white and…!

Vergil tilted his head and squeezed the Yamato’s blade between his neck and shoulder. He planted the Defibrillators, brimming with uncontrollable flame, onto Sam’s chest.

“Ah, shit,” said Sam.

“CLEAR!”

A pure white supernova upended floorboards and seared the leaves above. Sam released the Yamato and flew back. He crashed through the ferry’s bridge and kept going, stopping only when all his locusts erected a wall behind him. But the impact was strong, and he was down, at least for a time.

Vergil tenderly removed the Yamato from his neck and waved a healing blaze over the wound.

“Now Samuel,” said Vergil. “Witness true power.”

- Ragnarust Round 1