Devil May Cry:

Retribution

Written by Freedan

Chapter 1: Guardians of Faith

"What is your name?"

All his senses screamed. He could taste his own blood, the searing light in his eyes forced him to keep them lidded, and hundreds of wounds covered his body. The room stunk of rotting meat, and he thought he could make out crumpled shapes in the corners, human bones sticking up from the piles.

Whatever they'd injected him with was delaying his healing, or such minor wounds would have barely slowed him down. Seated on a metal chair, his hands were bound around the back by heavy shackles that somehow resisted what strength he had left. He'd tried time and again to snap the chain of the cuffs, incredulous to the fact that somehow they held him. Again, he remembered that burning injection. What was that stuff, if it could suppress his strength, too?

"What is your name?" the voice behind the mirror said again.

Government spooks, or maybe mercenaries. They'd come for him in the night. They knew what they were doing, too, armed with weapons specific to fighting a creature like him. He'd been sloppy, letting them get the drop on him. What the government suddenly wanted with a mixed blood like him.

"What is your name?" the voice said again, its tone exactly the same, never shifting, perfectly emotionless.

"My name…" he whispered, "My name is…"

"…Dante."

The receptionist's eyes went wide as he laid the black pistol on the counter in front of her, leaning over it to conceal it to other eyes.

"Now don't scream, miss," the tall man in the red coat said, "I don't want to hurt you. Just take a step back, away from the alarm button, please."

There was a click as he switched off the safety on the pistol, and swallowing hard, she took a step back.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"Don't worry, it's nothing from you," the man, Dante, said, "Your employers are holding a friend of mine here against his will. I'm here to get him. You just stay quiet, do what I say, and no one has to get hurt."

"I don't know where he is," she said.

"That's okay, I already do," Dante said, "And another friend of mine will be bringing him down shortly."

"Nero," the voice behind the mirror said, "You were present when the Hellgate opened six months ago, unleashing demons on your home city. We want the plans for the construction of the gates that were used by your order."

"Destroyed, along with the one who built them," Nero said.

"We don't believe even your order would be so foolish as to destroy something so valuable," said the voice, "Now I'm going to ask you again, where are the plans?"

"Fuck you," Nero said.

"Perhaps you need more incentive," said the voice, "You should know, we have Kyrie in our custody."

"What…" Nero looked up, toward the mirror, squinting against the bright glaring lights, "If you hurt her…"

"I'm sure you'll do something quite terrible," said the voice, "Your threats are meaningless at this point. We have you completely powerless."

"And I've got you," said a feminine voice from behind the mirror.

There were sounds of a struggle, followed by several grunts of pain, and then silence fell across the room, only to suddenly be shattered with the mirror as a metal folding chair came through the glass from the other side, showering shards all around Nero. The dark room on the other side held several shadowed shapes, slumped over a pair of desks.

The only figure left standing jumped onto the desk directly behind where the mirror had been, and then leaped out through the hole, into the light of the room. The blonde woman dressed in an expensive looking business suit, carrying a guitar case in one hand.

"You…" Nero said as she sat the case down.

"You're looking beat up, kid," Trish said, moving around behind the chair. She grasped his wrists and pulled outward, easily snapping the metal chain of the cuffs. "Looks like they managed to get you with that stuff they tried to inject Dante with."

"He was attacked too?" Nero asked, pulling his arms around in front of himself, "Was he captured?"

"No," Trish said, "But the Devil May Cry office is a ruin, and there are likely a bunch of them poking through it after the Devil Arms we didn't get out."

"Wait," Nero said as Trish pulled him to his feet, "Kyrie. They said they have Kyrie. We can't leave without her."

"She's not here," Trish said, "They took her somewhere else. Now come on, our ride is waiting, and it's only a matter of time before someone behind the cameras recognizes him."

"What?" Nero said as she picked up the guitar case and walked toward the door, "You think they're just going to let us walk out?"

"Of course not," Trish said, "But the further we are before they start shooting, the better."

She pulled a small plastic card from the breast pocket of her suit, and slid it through the reader by the door. The machine dinged, and the light turned green, the door sliding open almost silently. She turned back to him, returning the card to her pocket, and this time pulling out a pair of dark sunglasses. "You coming?" she asked as she put them on.

Nero was silent a moment, glancing back through the broken mirror at the unconscious bodies on the other side. "You're absolutely sure Kyrie isn't here?" he asked.

"Yes," Trish said, "I knew you'd be worried, so I already have what Devil Hunters are still on the network keeping watch for her."

"Network?" Nero asked.

Trish smiled. "You're no Devil Hunter, kid. There's a lot more involved than wearing a red coat and stabbing ugly things. Let's save the whole story for when we're out of here."

By this point, the holdup in the lobby had a very different look to it, as Dante leaned on the counter and the receptionist, while keeping her hands in sight, leaned close as well, smiling, a result of the conversation steering from the gun under his arm to first questions for her, and then about him, and it even growing flirtatious.

"So you play?" she asked, indicating the guitar case at his feet.

"Oh, a bit," Dante said, "That's the real dream, you know? Maybe someday I'll be able to play full time and give this kind of stuff," he paused and tapped the gun with his finger, "up entirely."

"I used to date a musician," she said, somewhat wistfully, "Best part was just listening while he sat on the couch, strumming out different tunes. Problem was, he never got any of them in clubs, and was singing covers all the time."

"Oh, a real poseur, huh?" Dante asked.

"Yes, he…" she stopped suddenly, looking up past Dante, her smile disappearing as he heard the heavy boots on the floor behind him.

"Sir, we need you to come with us," said a heavy voice.

Without looking, Dante was sure there were two of them, not that it mattered. "Well, I don't want to go with you," Dante said, "So what now?"

"Our employer wishes to speak with you," said the thug, and Dante felt something hard pressed into his back. A pistol, no doubt. And this poor sap probably didn't know it didn't have nearly enough rounds in it to kill Dante.

"Too bad for him," Dante said, "Now a word of advice before you go any further. Your absolute best hope to use that gun is to fire every single round at my crotch, throw the empty gun at me, then run for your life."

"Look smartass, you're coming with us," said the second thug, and grabbed Dante's shoulder.

The receptionist jumped back with a scream. Almost faster than the eye could follow, Dante reached across, spun out form under the man's grasp, and with his other hand, struck upward, into the thug's elbow. There was an audible crack as his elbow bent backward from the blow and he staggered back, falling on the floor. Without stopping his motion, Dante snatched the other thug's wrist, pushing the gun upward, a single round firing off into the ceiling, followed by this thug's scream as he staggered away from Dante, clutching his crushed wrist. By this point, more screams were beginning as what people were in the lobby ran for the door, and the camera monitors were calling for more security to go to the lobby.

Dante had the gun, and hit the release, dropping the loaded clip onto the floor with a clatter. He then ejected the remaining loaded round before tossing the pistol toward the feet of the first guard.

"Don't touch the coat," Dante said, brushing off his shoulder, "Real leather isn't cheap anymore."

There was a click behind him, causing him to turn and see the receptionist pointing his own gun toward him. "Aw, baby, we had such a good start," he said, "Why you got to go and ruin it like that?"

There was a "bong" sound to his right, and the elevator doors started to open. The receptionist turned just slightly toward it, and it was enough, Dante snatched the gun from her hand, spinning it on one finger, straight into his own grip, leveling the barrel toward her as the doors finished opening.

Trish and Nero stepped out of the elevator and saw him holding the gun on the receptionist, and the two security guards behind him. Trish sighed at the sight. "I thought we were trying to be subtle," she said.

"What?" Dante asked, "This is subtle. The alarm hasn't sounded yet."

Two doors on either side of the lobby slammed open and a heavily armed security team, twenty men in full body armor and wielding assault rifles, charged out, lining up in front of the main door, leveling their weapons toward them.

"Drop the gun and get down on your knees!" said one of them.

The receptionist dove under her desk as Dante looked back over his shoulder. "Okay," he said, turning around slowly, "Guess we do this the hard way."

Dante lifted one foot and stomped on the guitar case, which fell open, spilling out the massive white blade known as Rebellion, which Dante scooped up effortlessly with one hand, spun it across his fingers, and lifted it over his shoulder, sliding the guard into place in the leather strap across the back of his shoulders.

With another sigh, Trish dropped her caste, popping it open and picking up its contents. "Take this and this," Trish said, pushing a shotgun and pack of shells into Nero's hands, "It's already loaded."

"About time," he growled, switching the safety off and tucking the box of shells into his belt.

"Don't shoot yet," Trish said, picking up the second object from the case, which was a six shell rotary grenade launcher.

"Last warning!" shouted the guard, "Drop your weapons or we will open fire!"

"Let's rock, baby!" Dante shouted, and drew his second gun from his coat, a white mate to the black gun, and aimed up, firing both weapons rapidly into the glass entryway above the guards. In the next instant, they found glass raining down on their heads.

The rifles opened up, a hail of bullets raining on the trio. Nero managed to get a single shot off from his shotgun, knocking one of the guards onto his back, before the bullets tore into him. He'd been shot plenty of times before. Stabbed a lot, too. And it had never hurt this badly. Nero cried out as he fell onto his back, his blood practically pouring onto the floor.

Trish was unmoved as the bullets cut into her, and fired three shots from the grenade launcher, at different points of the room. The guards fell back, swearing loudly. But an instant later, the grenades were revealed to be nonlethal as white smoke poured from them, rapidly obscuring everyone's sight, and soon the entire room was filled with smoke.

Bullets continued to fly as Dante rushed over to Trish and Nero, splashes of his own blood seemingly inconsequential as beestings. "What's wrong, kid?" he asked.

"I don't know," Nero groaned, "They injected me with something, and everything's been wrong since."

"Injected?" Dante asked, looking at Trish.

"No idea," Trish said, loading more rounds in the grenade launcher, "Carry him, then. I'll clear the road."

"Now don't get the wrong idea from this, kid," Dante said, tucking his guns away and scooping Nero up around his shoulders and legs, "You're not exactly my kind of damsel in distress."

"Well, if you expect me to say 'my hero,' you're in for a disappointment," Nero growled.

"Close your eyes, count to five, and run," Trish said, and fired three more grenades into the smoke.

The dull thump followed by his ears ringing with no other sound told Nero she had fired flash bangs. Nero felt himself shaking as Dante ran, and when he opened his eye, found they had crashed right through the locked from doors and into the street beyond. His ears were still ringing, and he could only assume the others were too. They ran straight for a red convertible car parked on the other side of the street. Dante sat Nero in the passenger seat as Trish leaped over the side and into the driver's seat. Nero's hearing was only beginning to recover as she started the engine. Dante jumped across the hood to a parked motorcycle, climbing onto its seat. That was a strange choice for a chase, a heavy beast with high handlebars, but Dante kicked it into life.

His hearing was definitely coming back, and he looked over his shoulder at the sound of sirens.

"Cops," Trish muttered, shifting the car into gear, "Of course they called the cops."

"Give me a gun," Nero growled.

"Forget it," Trish said, pulling out onto the road and revving the motor as the car rapidly accelerated, "These guys aren't the enemy. Same with the guards inside. They're just doing their jobs. But we'll get the ones behind all this, just wait and see."

Nero was still in agony. He wasn't used to feeling pain from wounds for this long, or seeing this much of his own blood. But he tried to stay focused, seeing Dante riding ahead of them. "So who the hell were those people?" he asked, "What do they want with me and Dante?"

"It's not just you, kid," Trish said, "Devil Hunters all over the world are disappearing or ending up dead. If they were all attacked by these people, then it's this so called Guardians of Faith behind it. Their public face is a security firm that hires out to corporations and the like. In truth, they're privately owned mercenaries, and an army capable of rivaling any of the world superpowers."

"But I'm not a Devil Hunter!" Nero said, looking back at the pursuing police, "What do they want from me?"

"If I had to guess, they're after two things," Trish said, steering around a corner and squalling all four tires as she did before straightening the car back out, "Knowledge of the Hellgates, and Devil Arms, both of which Devil Hunters have more than anyone else."

Nero was interrupted as the buildings to their right suddenly exploded outward, causing Trish and he to both look up. "One of those things," Trish muttered, fishing in another pocket of her suit.

Nero had seen nothing like it before. Like a great flying centipede, it must have measured a good forty feet in length, and he could see electricity crackling around its body.

Trish fished a small object from her pocket, and lifted it up to her left ear. "Dante, you see our new friend?" she asked, making Nero realize it was an earpiece, "Yes, I see it, coming up on the right. Got it, I'll circle the garage once. Don't be late."

Dante suddenly pulled ahead of them, and Nero realized the bike was actually glowing. Suddenly he swerved into the oncoming lane, raising the front wheel and hit the hood of an oncoming car. What followed next, Nero would never have believed if he didn't see it himself. Instead of being destroyed by the much larger vehicle, the bike launched off it like a ramp, flying into the air as if propelled by a rocket.

"You gotta be shitting me…" Nero said.

"It's not the bike, if that's what you're thinking," Trish said, and smiled at him, "Dante says you've got a long way to go. Don't worry, when you really learn how to control that Devil Trigger of yours, you'll be amazed what you're capable of."

Dante landed on the fifth level of the parking garage, bringing the back to a stop about a hundred feet in, turning back and seeing the great worm. "Trish, you better be watching this," he said, and gave it the gas. The tire squealed and smoked as he swung the bike back around, and shot off like a rocket back the way he came. Devil energy had a way of affecting the world around it, and as Dante relaxed his grip on his, allowing more and more to permeate around him, the bike went faster and faster, until he jerked up on the bars, launching it into the air over the cement barrier.

Red lightning flashed as he relaxed his grip entirely, allowing the full Devil Trigger transformation, changing his body into that of a demon, even his clothing and coat transforming into a far more regal appearance, even as his face became that of a monster, and his hair, normally hanging almost lazily down, spiked upward, sharp and rigid.

He climbed up, putting both his feet on the bike's seat, as the worm turned up toward him, seeing him flying through the air, and its great jaws opened wide. With a grunt of effort, Dante kicked downward, sending the bike flying downward, directly into the creature's mouth.

"Jackpot," Dante said, aiming both his guns down, and firing repeatedly at the bike, the bullets charged with red lightning, the bike exploding, and the monster's head vanishing instantly. The rest of it began to break apart, ashes falling down across the street below.

Below, Trish swerved around a corner, tires screaming. Time was up, and she shifted gears, putting the gas on the floor, rocketing away from the police sirens. A moment later, Dante suddenly fell from the sky, landing in the back seat.

"You two are my witnesses," he said, leaning over the seat between them, "Lady owes me two grand next time we see her."

When Nero looked at her questioningly, Trish shook her head. "He was playing some stupid video game where a ninja killed a forty foot worm with a motorcycle, and commented that he could do it. Lady bet he couldn't, and they actually put a wager on it. At least for once it's in his favor."

"I told her I could do it," Dante said, lounging in the back seat, "Need the money anyway. All this shooting ruined another coat."

"All right, let's lose the police and ditch this car," Trish said.

Two days earlier…

"Oh yeah… Right there… Just like that… Yeah, baby…"

The front door of the Devil May Cry office opened, Trish stepping inside with several bags on her arms. She slowly removed her sunglasses as she looked over at Dante, lounging with his feet on his desk, a Guns and Bullets magazine held in both hands.

"Look at you, you gorgeous thing…" he was saying.

"You know, I think I'd feel better if just once, I walked in on you actually looking at porn," Trish said.

The magazine came down low enough for his eyes to look over it at her. "What do I look like? Some pimple-faced loser with the internet and no life?" he raised the magazine again, "Sure, and after I'm done, I'll start writing fan fiction."

"Hey, I've read some good stuff," Trish said as she walked across the room, "It's much more rare, but it does exist."

"I don't know which is worse," Dante said, "The fact you admit to reading fan fiction, or implying that I could write good stuff."

"Yeah, probably not," Trish said, setting the bags down on the desk, and then shoving Dante's feet off to make more room.

"Hey!" Dante complained, nearly rolling out of his chair, but then eyed the bags, "What's all this?"

"Things you've never seen before," Trish said, and started pulling things from the bags, "Lettuce. Potatoes. Apples. Fruits and vegetables. Most people call them food."

Dante groaned. "Oh, I've told you a hundred times, we can just call for a pizza."

"You've had enough pizza for the week," Trish said, "More like the year, actually, but I'll pick my battles more carefully than that."

Dante sighed. "Can we at least do burgers, then?"

"You know, a salad every now and then won't kill you," Trish said, "Besides, I'm going to be doing the cooking, so what is your problem?"

"I am not a rabbit!" Dante declared.

Trish did not have a chance to respond, as the phone rang. She picked up the reciever. "Devil May Cry," she said, and waited a moment, "Sorry, not interested."

"No password," Dante said.

"That's right," she replied, "I think they were trying to sell us security. Some Guardians of the Faith bureau or something."

"Guardians of the Faith?" Dante asked, "What kind of name is that for a security firm?"

The front door of the office suddenly exploded inward as a breaching charge detonated, shattering the front windows and raining glass all around them. Dante was out of his seat and yanked his desk over, creating makeshift cover, as well as dumping all the bags and vegetables in the floor.

"Hey!" Trish complained at this, and Dante only shrugged and replied, "Oops."

"Gas is in!" came a shout from outside, and an object like a can bounced in through the front door, and spewed white smoke.

"Tear gas?" Trish asked, pulling her custom-made pistols from the gun rack, "These guys have no idea what they're in for."

Dante casually strolled over to the rack where Rebellion waited, lifting the sword free and hooking it into the leather strap around the shoulders of his coat. He then walked to the rack where Ebony and Ivory waited, and lifted the twin guns free, checking the clips and flipping the safeties off.

"Go go go!" came a shout from outside.

The side windows shatters and rapellers leaped inside, lifting their rifles and scanning the room, their own faces shielded with gas masks. One found himself unfortunate enough to land directly in front of Dante.

"What's up, doc?" Dante asked, then unloaded a shot into each of the soldier's shoulders, then kicked his knee, snapping the bone and bending it backwards. The soldier collapsed, screaming in agony as Dante stepped over him.

"Fire, fire!" came the shouts as the other three breachers opened their rifles on Dante on full automatic for several seconds. They stopped shooting a few seconds later, Dante's shirt riddled with holes and red with blood.

They watched in horror as Dante leaned his head back, groaning, and a second later, bullets fell to the floor like a rain, forced out of the wounds which, even through the holes in the shirt, could be seen rapidly healing beyond any human ability.

"What the hell is it?!" one of the soldiers screamed.

"Something you are not prepared for," Trish said, materializing from out of the smoke behind one of the soldiers, and she quickly put a shot into each of his knees, toppling him effectively.

"Shit shit shit!" the other soldier screamed, turning and running out the front door.

"Kind of weird," Dante said, walking toward the door, and casually putting a bullet in the knee of the remaining soldier as he did so, "We don't usually get this aggressive of guests of this type."

He stopped short as out in the street, he saw a soldier crouched with a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher aimed toward the door. "Trish, get down!" Dante said, turning from the door.

"Suck on this!" the soldier said as he pushed the trigger, sending the rocket directly into the office.

The jet trail singed Dante's coat as he dove out of the way, the rocket flying past and striking the back wall. The desk shattered, sending wood splinters flying everywhere, and the wall exploded the other direction, into the kitchen and bathroom, drywall and bricks flying over the room.

After the explosion, there was a loud creak in the otherwise heavy silence.

"Oh, boy," Dante muttered, "That was a load-bearing wall."

"Dante," Trish said, looking out the door, where the shooter had been passed another loaded launcher.

"Time to go!" Dante said, "Grab the Force Edge! We can't let anyone have it!"

Trish leaped up, running to the rack and grabbing the oddly fleshlike blade that had once belonged to Dante's father, Sparda. Dante meanwhile grabbed a set of gauntlets that glowed with otherworldly light, and an oddly colored briefcase.

"Let's go, let's go!" Dante hurried her as Trish dashed across the room, and the two of them went out the window as the second rocket flew in through the door.

They were sprinting down the neighboring alley as the explosion died away, only to be followed by the crumbling of the building as it collapsed in on itself.

The alley opened into the street, they were ambushed by two more soldiers. "Gotcha!" one shouted, shoving a tazer into Dante's gut and pulling the trigger. Dante would admit, it was a hell of a lot more voltage than most people can get, but it didn't help when the other man tried to jam some kind of syringe into Dante's chest.

Three broken arms later, Dante and Trish were standing over them and Dante was holding the strange device. It was a needle, with a blue fluid clearly visible in a capsule, though shaped like a gun and with a trigger mechanism. But regardless of the mechanism, they were more interested in what this liquid was, and what it had been supposed to do to Dante.

"So they actually came for you before me," Nero said.

"That's right," Dante said, and held up the needle device with the liquid, "And I'm guessing this stuff they wanted to put in me is what they injected into you."

"Well, it seems to have run it's course," Trish commented, pulling another bullet from Nero's wounds with a pair of forceps, "You're starting to close up properly. Of course, you don't heal as fast as Dante or me even at the best of times."

It had taken nearly an hour to lose the pursuing police, and they had run the car into a lake before going to another they had prepared and coming here. Nero had no idea a place like this even existed. The best he could describe it was an underground garage, which had several more vehicles waiting, along with several thousand gallons of gasoline for refueling, and further in, a workshop with more tools than Nero had ever seen, along with many he didn't even know the function of. The third room was where they were now, which could be described as a medical or rest area. There were plenty of first aid supplies, six beds, and bathroom utilities in a room to the side.

Trish explained it was a Devil Hunter safe house, and this was one of the bigger, more expensive ones. It was also extremely illegal, and it had to remain secret, so Devil Hunters were very cautious about who they allowed into their actual network, and who had to work through a contact.

Trish had spent the past two hours pulling bullets from Nero while she and Dante explained to Nero about the attack on the Devil May Cry office, and when they tried to contact the other Devil Hunters, found that attacks were occurring all over the world. Hunters that didn't escape or die had to be assumed captured.

The blue glow in Nero's right hand was even slowly beginning to return, though it was still dim at this point. "I'd like to know what that stuff is," Trish said, "It troubles me that someone managed to find or make a toxin that suppresses demonic power."

"And Nero's part human, like me," Dante said, "Trish, if they manage to inject you with this stuff, it might kill you."

"Another reason I'm worried," Trish said, "We've got the tools here to analyze it, but it's an area I'm knowledgeable in."

"Who was that Russian hunter that knew about this stuff, like poisons and serums and so on?" Dante said, "Her name escapes me."

"Tatiana, I think," Trish said, "If she hasn't been captured or killed, we might be able to contact her. All right, kid, looks like that's it. I think I pulled four pounds of lead out of you."

"Well, I do feel better," Nero said, standing up and reaching for his shirt, then holding it up in disgust at the completely ruined piece, more holes in it than fabric.

"There are some clothes in the closet over there," Trish said, pointing, "See if you can find something that fits."

"Chains and Leather will live forever, the band begins this fight," came the sound of music from Dante, who fished his phone out his pocket, "We are rock, play metal in the night-"

It was cut off as Dante pushed the button and lifted it to his ear. "Devil May Cry," he said, waited a moment, then smiled, "Oh, Lady, I was wondering when I'd hear from you. Listen, you owe me two grand, and I've got witnesses. Yeah? Okay, can you get on a more secure line? Gotcha, we're in safe house twelve. Talk to you in a minute."

"I can't believe that didn't take a bullet," Trish said.

"I left it on the bike while we were inside," Dante said.

"I'm wondering what the hell that ringtone was," Nero said as he sifted through the shirts in the closet.

"Chains and leather, heavy metal, you know?" Dante asked.

"Didn't sound like any metal I've ever heard," Nero said, "Wait, what the hell?"

He pulled a long coat from the closet. It was bright red leather, the shoulders studded with short metal rivets, and had several chains hanging from the chest, under the arms, only to loop back up behind the shoulder and attach again.

"Oh, sweet! I thought I lost that one!" Dante said, jumping up from his seat and nearly sprinting over and taking the coat, "I can't believe it was here the whole time! Looks like it's missing some chains and a few studs from the shoulders, but those are easy to replace…"

Nero glanced at Trish, who shrugged. "Don't look at me," she said, "He's gone through at least a hundred coats in the year I've known him."

"Who'd wear something as ugly as that anyway?" Nero asked, even as Dante slipped off his bullet-riddled coat and was putting his arms into the sleeves of this new one.

"Someone who knows what this," Dante said, pulling the coat tight, then crossing his arms in front of his chest, holding up the index and pinky fingers on each hand, "is really all about."

Nero rolled his eyes, turning back to the closet and selecting a black T-shirt for himself.

"Come on kid, I heard that garbled mess coming out of your headphones when we first met," Dante said.

"Well, yeah, I know metal, and that is not metal," Nero said, and pulled the shirt on over his head.

"Oh, no, you poor deprived child," Dante said, "Come on, it has to spark something: Chains and Leather will live forever, the band begins this fight. We are rock, play metal in the night, the message from Hell and despair. Even Satan wears leather, our souls will live forever, so let us praise our roots tonight!"

He stopped singing, looking hopefully at Nero, who just shook his head, look completely incredulous.

"Oh, wow," Dante said, and turned to Trish, "Everything else goes on hold while we reeducate! I'm going to need Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Judas Priest, and Running Wild CDs right now!"

"They're all back in the office," Trish said.

"Oh no!" Dante said, putting his face in hands, "All my vinyls! You can't replace those anymore!"

"Why is this so important to you?" Nero asked.

"Because," Dante said dramatically, "People say all the time that metal is dead. But the fact is, it is not dead so long as there are still good bands out there. The problem is there are far more godawful bands than good ones these days. Metal isn't dead, but they're trying damn hard to kill it! And so long as there is breath left in me, I won't allow that to happen! Even if you are the only person I ever show the real meaning to, you will learn there is so much more to metal than being loud and obnoxious."

There was a beeping from a nearby computer screen on the wall. "Oh, sorry, real life and something important are calling," Trish said, walking over to the screen and pressing the receive key.

"What the hell are you doing in Paris?!" was the first thing Lady said when her face appeared on the screen.

"Hello to you too," Trish said.

"Sorry, we had to rescue a certain punk kid," Dante said, "Unfortunately, none of the other disappeared hunters were in the building."

"We've already sent word on the network to watch these guys," Trish said, they've got bases in quite a few major cities. Paris, New York, Moscow, Tokyo, all over the damn place."

"I know, I was just on the receiving end of visit by them in New York," Lady said, "I got away, and so did Sirius, but Michael is missing. We can't find a body, so we're assuming he was captured."

"Michael? Sirius?" Nero asked, looking at Dante.

"Couple of Devil Hunters based out of New York," Dante said, "Lady was working with them on a job recently."

"About that," Lady said, "Things went to shit when those damn mercs showed up, and the target escaped. We're sure he's still in New York, so I'm going to stay here a while longer, but we need to decide what we're going to do about these assholes."

Even as she spoke, Nero was rather taken aback by the image on the screen. He'd never met Lady before, only heard the name. She was a surprising vision of beauty, even with the grayed hair and visible crow's feet.

"The Devil May Cry office was leveled," Trish said, "I've no doubt they're fishing for the Devil Arms we weren't able to save, but we did retrieve the Force Edge and Pandora."

"The two most important ones," Lady said, "They're taking Devil Arms from other hunters as well. Sirius said he's going to try to hack their systems and find out what they're up to."

"Just spread the word to other hunters, without the Devil May Cry office, there's a good chance the other safe houses in Los Angeles were compromised as well," Trish said.

"Well, as far as I can tell, for each one of us they've gotten, at least two have escaped," Lady said, "Whatever these assholes want with the Devil Hunters, they haven't broken us yet, and we're going to come back on them hard."

"Good, I can't wait," Nero said.

"Is this that kid you were talking about, Dante?" Lady asked, "The one with Yamato?"

"That's right," Dante said, "He's a hybrid, like me."

"Then he'll be able to do some real damage," Lady said, "All right, you guys stay put for now. Like it or not, you're our trump cards against these guys. I'll contact you tomorrow, and hopefully know more by then."

"Watch yourself," Dante said, "I'm not sure what actually caused it, but a C-class demon showed up during our getaway. I killed it, but the fact it was there at all bothers me."

"C-class… Unintelligent?" Lady asked.

"Seemed so," Dante said, "And I force-fed it a motorcycle, so you owe me two grand. You better not die before I collect it."

"I'll call you tomorrow," Lady said, obviously ignoring the comment.

"See you then," Dante said, and the screen switched off.

"So that was Lady, huh?" Nero asked as Dante and Trish turned away from the screen, moving back to the seats, "She's a lot more attractive than I expected."

"Oh, you should have seen her while she was still a brunette," Dante said, sitting down, "She went gray early for some reason. Maybe runs in her family, or maybe she saw God, I don't know. But even now, excluding the fact she never had children, she is definitely prime milf material."

"And I'm locked in the building with this," Trish said with a sigh.

"She seems a lot more pissed about this than you two," Nero said.

"Lady isn't as forgiving as Dante or I can be," Trish said.

"She's a good person, just don't piss her off," Dante said.

"What about Kyrie?" Nero asked, "What are we going to do about her?"

"We can't do anything until we know where she is," Dante said.

"They weren't holding her with you," Trish said, "It would be rather idiotic to hold your leverage with the one you were trying to leverage. Safest bet is she is in the same place they're taking the other hunters. And if they think they can get anything from you, I have no doubt they'll try to ransom her, either for you or for information. She'll turn up, and we'll get her back, I promise that."

Nero growled. He hated feeling this powerless, that was for certain. But then his stomach growled loudly, reminding him how long it had been since he'd eaten. "So what's kept to eat in a place like this?" he asked.

"There's long stretches nobody is here," Trish said, "Can't keep anything perishable. There's probably some jerky, maybe a few Twinkies."

"Well, that settles it," Dante said, picking up his phone, "Time to find out what French pizza is like."

The phone rang in the middle of the night, in a decrepit gutter apartment. Barely furnished, filthy rooms, and likely the roaches paying part of the rent. It was the kind of place no person with any means wanted to find themselves.

The sole occupant rolled over in the bed, picking up the phone on the nightstand.

"Talk," she said into the receiver.

"Codename Lucifer," said a man's voice on the other end, "We're activating red protocol. The list of targets has been sent to your terminal."

The man on the other end hung up. The woman put the phone down, sitting up in the bed and stretching out the stiffness of sleep.

Red protocol meant she was to kill every single name on the list waiting for her. It had never been activated before. She walked to the chest of drawers across the room, throwing her nightie in the corner, and opening one of the drawers. From it she took a small tablet computer, hidden under her clothes, and switched it own. While waiting for it to boot, she selected underwear and a pair of jeans from the drawers.

A moment later, the tablet dinged, and opened the recently received file. She lite a cigarette as she scrolled down the list of names. Each had an address where they could be found and a photo for identification. Most were people she'd never heard of, though some she knew. It didn't matter. In the end there was nothing truly challenging about any of the marks, only the sheer number of them.

She scrolled down to the last name, and suddenly stopped. The name was "Dante," and the photo showed her a white-haired man with a cocky half-smile, and the pommel of a large sword visible over one shoulder. Current location was unknown, but special details listed his recent escape from Guardian forces, and an order to terminate with extreme prejudice.

She smiled to herself, and blew smoke from her cigarette at the screen. "Finally," she said.