Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD or Devil May Cry. They are respectively owned by Ishibumi Ichiei and Capcom, and under NO circumstances that I know of, will I ever own them. I don't have enough time and money to deal with the legal bullshit that is packaged with being sued. Also, credit for the cover pic goes to Banpai Akira.
A/N: Alright, wanna hear a funny story?
…No? Well, too bad, cuz I'm telling it anyways.
This idea figuratively popped into my mind when I opened my fridge for a midnight snack just right after a hot, steamy shower, and the thought that accompanied it was… 'why the fuck not?'
Granted, it was partly inspired by gabriel blessing's 'Beyond the Outer Gates Lies…' (bless the guy's soul, no pun intended), but it was still stuck in my head after I woke up the next day. And the next week. Next thing I knew, I had typed up a shitty prologue that is in need of revising.
As gabriel blessing once quoted… "Such fertile ground it has."
…And I, for one, was never a fan of looking carefully at my work for mistakes, so as usual, I decided to post it as it is.
So… I present to all you bastards, flamers, haters, stoners, loners, fuckers, oppai lovers, and/or just fans of the DMC and/or DxD fandom… a DMC x DxD crossover!
…Pardon my French. No offense to anyone in particular, I still love you all!
Well, let us make haste! Enjoy!
Where it all started…
'Well, where did it all start again?' Dante wondered as he dodged yet another attack from his deformed enemy Argosax the Chaos and retaliated with a barrage from his SMGs.
There the two stood, face to faces, before a giant vortex; an ominous black one, which was intercepted with red lightning sparks that was slowly closing.
What led up to this moment, you ask? A long story really, which had began as a simple problem. And of course, with Dante at the helm of this job, 'simple' became 'grueling' a bit TOO fast. An easy job, on an island far away from Trish, Patty, and Lady. A little hunting, enjoying the scenery, and recovering from Trish's special 'spicy-but-not-so-spicy-or-more-like-your-brain-isn't-going-to-realize-that-it-was-spicy' hot sauce. Just like Hawaii.
By the way, Trish's cooking is delicious stuff, but someone's gotta tell the woman that immunity to fire isn't the same as immunity to capsaicin!
And as always, like with the incident with Mundus and the investigation of the Order of the Sword, the job turned into more of a headache than he liked. Someone just had to open that damned door to the Demon World! Again! By now, he was seriously considering taking back Yamato from the kid Nero and nailing down all doors to that cursed realm with demonic rebar nails and extra powerful speed tape with it, memories of his brother be damned.
And just right before that…
Well, it was probably during the ultimatum presented to him by Lucia of having to stain his hands with her blood to tie up loose ends… namely, the chaos that had descended on the city… that led to him being here. There had to be another way to convince her that she didn't have to give her own life up, even if she had turned out to be a madman's failed experiment and discovering that her whole life has been a complete lie.
The answer to that came in the form of a rift tearing into space, making itself known right in front of the two while Lucia had her hands on Ebony as she kept it pointed at herself. Between having to kill his companion, and having to go into the portal to finish off a King that used to rule the Demon World, what did he choose?
Obviously, he went with the flashier and moral option.
So much for that coin toss he had with Lucia back there… oh wait, it was intentional to begin with. Ha, wonder if she's pissed or not about his double-headed coin? He's willing to bet all the spare money under a false bottom in a drawer at his desk that she found out the nature of the coin less than a minute after he entered the portal.
Maybe he'll send her a gift basket as an apology after all this is over…
And all unfortunate series of events led to him dodging a swift tentacle attack. What fun.
"Whoa, easy there, you huge hunk of confused meat. I've already seen some of that hentai crap a few years back and I still know where that was going." Dante chided Argosax mockingly.
Argosax's reply came in the form of a loud and distorted roar at the puny man before him, which Dante could easily muffle out in his sleep if he wanted. The Devil emerged furious and ready to kill the insolent little bastard, who had dared to disturb his millennia-long slumber.
In appearance, it was a hideous pile of flesh composed of bits and pieces, with some animal features. Namely, all the beasts that Dante had slain before reaching this point: Phantom, Griffon, Orangguerra, Jokatgulm, Nefasturris, and Furiataurus. It was strong and regenerative, but also slow and clumsy. No problem for the battle hardened hunter, and a little too easy for Dante's taste. A full 20 minutes passed and it was covered in deep cuts from the hunter's favorite sword Rebellion. Beside the slash wounds, many small impact wounds could be seen on its body as well thanks to Ebony and Ivory, his Shotgun, and dual SMGs.
It was sad… until it finally awakened.
At first, he was just a tiny globe, like a soul fragment, but blazing with ethereal flames. It became brighter and hotter until the small vessel couldn't hold it anymore. It burst, and out came Argosax in his new body. A blazing humanoid body which looked like it could morph between male and female, with two horns on his head. He even spurred fire wings. With them, he looked like a fallen angel, angry in demand for retribution and for the desperate need to get out of his dunghole.
And it still didn't utter a sound. How boring.
Hands changed to swords and spears and the fight was on again. This time, it was more heated in both the literal and figurative senses. Dante had to act fast, before the gate closed forever.
He Devil Triggered, revealing a demonic form with a very reptilian appearance. It gave a reptile-looking appearance to his arms and legs, his head seemed to produce spiky edges, there are cracks on his chest that pulsed with demonic power, and his coat appears to separate into three parts that are shaped much like an insect's wings. Time was of the essence, not style any more. No more useless bantering, if the enemy isn't going to talk back to him.
A slash at its torso, regenerating, another at its leg, two more aimed at its wings, yet every time Dante landed a hit, the devil simply grew back the damaged areas. Not to mention, that it became more swift, and agile. The portal was closing too fast! His last chance was the second trigger: Majin Form. His true Devil form, more bestial with more, if possible, reptilian limbs, a bat-like body structure, and with four beetle-like wings.
If Dante hadn't known any better, he would have mistaken himself for his father, Sparda.
The game was on; one attack, one hit. It was going to end either way. Fortune seemed to favor the hunter as his attack landed. The left wing was gone with a chunk out of its torso. The force behind the blow was enough that the regeneration didn't kick right in immediately. Not a clean strike, but enough to finish Argosax in the next dash. Dante moved and so did the devil, its hands turning into swords like Rebellion, which resided in the hands of Dante.
Dante leapt at his foe. The Devil anticipated the move and extended its sword-arm to pierce the hunter. Dante jumped slightly to the left executing a roll mid air to stay on target, his sight never leaving his foe, and struck with Rebellion. His strike was parried, which resulted him losing his sword, but it was a calculated miss. His foe was pushed back by the force of his thrust and got him out of its sight.
The Despair Embodied recovered fast, but not fast enough. It looked for the Devil Hunter at his left, but there was nothing, then at right, and yet again Dante used his Trickster Style to stay in its blind spot. At last, it turned around, coming eye to eye with Dante's gun Ivory. Checkmate. They both knew it, and if the devil had a face, it would have been of resignation.
Dante didn't spare The Despair Embodied a single glance as he channeled an overloading amount of demonic power that was the residue of power from his Devil Trigger and Majin Form into Ivory. With his trusted customized M1911-styled handgun in hand, he stated a familiar catchphrase with his trademark smirk, signaling the end of the battle:
The overpowered shot blasted straight through the supposed cranium of Argosax. Right at the moment Rebellion struck the ground from above with a chilling *CLANG!*.
"▄▂▅▂▄▅▃▂▉—!" The Despair Embodied writhed about and screeched in agony, or appeared to be screeching as it had no mouth to screech from, and Dante watched it as he placed Ivory back in its holster. It was beginning to dissolve into nothingness, maybe into nonexistence since the place it died is in the Underworld, or as humans like to call it, Hell. He couldn't even fathom what it's like to once exist, and then suddenly not exist anymore.
It's not like dying in the real world, since it's most likely that your soul can still go into an afterlife.
Dante shook his head. The portal behind him had closed by now, and now isn't the time to be philosophical about the concept of life and death for a demon. Especially since he has no way returning back to the Human World. A familiar experience, except this time it was him who was trapped, not Vergil.
However, it was the next set of events coming up that he had caught him off guard. The Despair Embodied, disappearing form and all, had rushed up and seized him.
What happened next… wasn't what he expected.
Especially when it felt as though his entire body was getting distorted in order to teleport…
When Dante finally regained control over his five senses, the first thing he thought was, 'Dull.'
The surrounding area was dull. No sense of style at all. Not even an assortment of color like the Human World. Just a film of monochrome from the ground underneath him to the seemingly infinite amount of distance underneath an iridescent sky of what-the-hell.
The first and last time he was in the Demon World, the Temen-ni-Gru and Mundus's abode, even those places had a sense of style and aristocracy he could appreciate, if even a little. But this… blergh.
The red star over the horizon did look a little threatening though…
A distorted moan caught his attention, and he turned behind him to see… Argosax the Chaos in the form of The Despair Embodied. Standing stock still about a couple ten's of meters away, much like a plastic flamingo except on both of its humanoid legs. Previously it had been disappearing into nonexistence, but now… it looked more intact. He could even make out eyes and mouth, albeit not exactly humanlike. Now, the Devil had a more androgynous appearance, but could never be as handsome as yours truly.
"sOn oF SPaRdA…" The Despair Embodied stood still, showing a form of communication for the first time since the beginning of the battle.
"Huh. Who would have thought you're alive? It must be Tuesday, right? It's gotta be a Tuesday. I have to put up with a lot of crap on Tuesday's." Dante remarked sarcastically, subtly preparing himself for another brawl despite the low supply of demonic energy.
"sOn oF SPaRdA…" The Despair Embodied muttered again with disdain. "…dO nOT tHiNk YOu wIlL WalK aWay uNscATheD…"
"Oh? So the former King thinks he knows how to trash talk as well, huh? I like where this is goin'." Dante kept up the banter, wondering if he should ask the downed Demon King where the hell it took the both of them.
"YoU mAY hAvE bESteD mE, sOn oF SPaRdA…" it ignored his mouthing and sharply turned its head in his general direction, "…bUt NO lOnGer sHalL I bE tHe onE YOu sHouLd fEaR…"
"Yes yes, keep saying the name. Honestly, with the amount of times I keep getting called that, I might have to file up a copyright application. Make a bunch of Benjamins out of it. 'Son of Sparda trademark, property of Dante via Tony Redgrave'. Got a nice ring to it, don't you think?" he continued mouthing off, but for reasons unknown to him, Argosax is unusually stubborn and showed no reaction to his quip.
"tHiNK AbOUt thIs, sOn oF SPaRdA. wHY dO yoU tHInK thE eMpErOr oF DaRknESs aTteMpteD tO clAIm tHe HuMAn wORld As HiS oWn tWo milLeNniA aGO?" It questioned Dante, and answered its own question just as fast as it had asked it, "sImpLE. hE WiShEd tO EScaPe fRoM thE oNE hE… nO, WE tRUlY fEarEd aBOvE AlL ElSE."
"And just how is your currently-sealed-in-hammerspace King or even you related to this?"
"tHeN aNSwEr Me ThIs…" Its mouth, or what resembles its mouth, curved into a sickly grin, alerting Dante of an impending danger. "wHY Do yoU tHiNK I tOoK yOU WiTh mE hEre? To tHiS foRsAKen lANd?"
"Because of the scenery? You could kill me with boredom here." Dante quipped, not outwardly showing a sign of giving a damn. He took a look around again… and saw that that ferocious-looking red star from earlier was eerily coming closer.
"iT CoMEs …"
He stopped his choreographed bantering with the former Demon King when the air… the space around him began to shift ever so subtly, causing the humanoid Demon King to fall to its knees and begin quivering, instead of stumbling slightly or lashing out in self-righteous anger like he expected it to when they first saw each other.
And he thought he had seen crazy.
"iT CoMEs, sOn oF SPaRdA… iT CoMEs…!"
The Despair Embodied then broke out into a deranged laughter. A kind of laughter Dante recognized instantly out of his many years of experience as a Devil Hunter. It was a laugh not out of hilarity or even out of mockery. Heck, it wasn't even the stereotypical laughter that was used by villains who found out that their Christmas came early.
It was a laugh belonging to one that has lost everything and has nothing else left to lose.
"iT CoMEs, ThE OnE eVen tHe KiNgS aND waRrIoRs oF oLd fEAr aNd prOStRatE tO…"
It spread its arm out like a fanatical worshipper praising his god, but Dante was now trying to keep up, the gears in his mind grinding away to help him understand just what he got himself into, even if it wasn't his fault that he was here in this unknown place.
The Kings and Warriors of Old… Old is a very subjective term, going by demon terminology. If he looks at Old on a broad scale, as in millenniums, that was mean that Mundus feared this One. And he's already had enough Mundus for a day. What being can inspire a fear that was currently being displayed by the former Demon King in front of him? And following that pathway…
The Son of Sparda quickly came to a conclusion, and it did not look pretty to himself either.
His own father, the Legendary Dark Knight even feared this… whatever it is?
…Bullshit. He calls bullshit on that thought. Hah, Dante had to suppress a chuckle at a vivid thought of Vergil running around screaming 'Bloody Murder!' if he heard such a thing. That would remain in his mind for as long as it came…
"iT CoMEs aNd We sHAlL bOtH PeRIsH fOR iT toGeThe—!"
Whatever The Despair Embodied was going to say or finish saying was promptly interrupted by a shower of brilliant golden fire as bright as the Sun raining on it. The only thing the final form of Argosax the Chaos managed to utter as it was showered was a brief scream of hatred, anguish, and despair before it was incinerated in and out and vanished without ashes to prove its existence, with a large hole-shaped cavern in its place.
Dante blinked. The final boss was just instantly vanquished in a few mere seconds. Compared to the amount of time he spent making it get serious, having to tire it down, and give it the finishing Jackpot, which was about two to five hours, more or less given the distortion of time in Hell…
God, that was hot. As in, literally hot. Not the usual hot that he sees every day. He can thank Lady and Trish for that, maybe even Patty once she reaches the legal age of consent.
He looked up at the creature that finally landed with a resounding earthquake where The Despair Embodied used to be and came up with a simple but conclusive observation: It's a god forsaken dragon. A genuine lizard complete with wings, horn, and red scales. And it looked epically pissed. From the size of it compared to himself and all the demons he had encountered thus far, including Mundus, he may as well call it THE Dragon of Dragons.
And as though it felt him staring at it, it stared back at him with golden orbs. Those fierce orbs, slits-for-pupils and reptilian, narrowed as he continued looking into its eyes, and he knew at that moment… he was far too outclassed. And that was a major understatement, in his honest opinion.
Dante prides himself a seemingly unflappable person who has no fear, even against all odds against him like millennia-old, powerful demons that apparently had grudges against his father. Simply because they couldn't handle the fact that they got their ass handed to themselves by Sparda on a silver platter by a single betrayal, they choose to take it out on his son instead… only for them to get their ass on a GOLD platter by yours truly.
Those were the good times.
But this… this is making him worry now.
If anything, to be pitted against this dragon... can he even call it that? …No, it's too much of an extreme overkill. And by overkill, he means himself. Its power was leagues upon leagues upon leagues above his own. Hell, that sheer unadulterated POWER… the undiluted PRESENCE that's threatening to suffocate him and force him on his knees right now… it made Mundus's own strength look like a half-year-old puppy! He couldn't even summon the strength to look away at all...!
The Dragon's golden orbs began to glow, if even possible, an even sharper gold than before... and for some reason, he felt as though his mind and soul were being violated to the very core. Even his entire body wasn't spared. He felt like something deep within him was being shifted around as if he were a toy being dissected by a curious child, and then messed around with like the components of a computer…
And he doesn't even know how a freakin' computer works.
Then a thought struck him at that moment. It wasn't awe-inspiring nor was it scary and fear-inducing. But it was a question that was brought up once and only once in his childhood after his mother's death, but it never came up ever again until now:
Was he going to die?
…Well, this is slowly becoming awkward now, impending erasure otherwise ignored. He had always envisioned that his death would come from eating too much strawberry sundaes and pizzas, thus either getting diabetes to shut his body down or getting too damn fat to carry his own weight and having gravity finish its business with him. Definitely NOT by a dragon as large as a professional football stadium.
Don't get him wrong, though. The Son of Sparda isn't the kind of man who will simply die like an ant… That's one of the LAST thing he'll ever let happen. But he sure as hell isn't going to charge up to the dragon with guns and sword blazing, shouting his own name like it's a war cry like Leeroy Jenkins, bless the man's soul by the way. If he's gonna die in a place like this… might as well do in a manner that would make his pride swell even after death.
The Dragon's golden orbs were beginning to dim. Here it comes…
"It's Godzilla!" Dante screamed in an exaggerated manner, pointing at the oversized dragon. "Seriously. You really pulled off the perfect role right there, my oversized friend. Just take away the wings and that weird horn on your snout, color your silly red scale dark green, and you're all set!"
…If he's gonna die, may as well do it the stupidest possible way regardless of the limited options he has. At least his reputation as a jester will be preserved, even if only one being remembers it.
Apparently, the Dragon didn't like the remark that he gave about its appearance, fingers posed for a flick, which Dante could already tell would hurt like FUCK, all capital letters intended and healing factors be damned. No point in dodging something going beyond the speed of sound.
"This is not gonna be pretty…" he muttered under his breath.
The dragon's finger flick made contact with his entire body and he blacked out immediately.
Yep, it was definitely a Tuesday.
Great Red snorted as his draconic finger claws made contact with the Devil Hunter, causing him to fly off into a distance and open a rift in the sky. How dare the little bastard make fun of his delicately grown red scales, his neatly trimmed-to-perfection wings, and his drop dead awesome horn. He chose all of them out of a fashion sense, thank you very much.
And who the hell is Godzilla? So he can go and kick that bastard's ass for sullying the name known as Great Red!
To be honest, he came here because of boredom. He had felt a ripple close by and he thought, 'Why not?' and began flying towards it. When he got there though, he was greeted with the sight of this flame angel wannabe thing blabbing on and on about something coming. Its voice was so damn annoying, so he took measures into his hands… claws, he means, and turned it off immediately. With flames. That'll teach the punk for trying to play around with his eardrums.
Apparently, everything is solved by dousing the problem with fire.
But after that was taken care of, he was met with the sight of yet another person. But this little guy wasn't as annoying as the blabbermouth from before. It still begged the question, 'What's he doing here?' So with barely a thought, Great Red looked straight into the red-coated guy's eyes, and with that, he was inside the Son of Sparda's very thoughts.
And he was not disappointed with what he found.
2,000 years ago, the Legendary Dark Knight 'woke up to justice' and singlehandedly defeated his leader Mundus and his entire legion of demons. Once his deed was done, he sealed both the door to the Demon World and his own power, effectively rendering him a human with an abnormally long lifespan, but it was for the greater good. And right before his disappearance, he surfaced and married a human woman.
And it brought forth the younger identical twin of two. A half-demon conceived between the former general of an all-powerful Demon army and a human woman, Sparda and Eva.
Dante and Vergil had a rather happy childhood, similar to ordinary human children except both were aware of their demonic heritage. It did not assuage them in the least… until tragedy struck them. Sparda vanished without a trace and was believed to be dead, and their mother died by the hands of demons who held a grudge against the Treacherous Dark Knight, permanently estranging the brothers.
Whereas his older brother sought power to fill the guilt-ridden hole that was formed by his mother's death, Dante chose to fill his hole by slaying the very race that took away his mother's life and ruined his relationship with his brother.
Such different goals would eventually lead to them clashing physically, mentally, emotionally, and ideologically at the end of the episode of Temen-ni-gru. In the end, Dante emerged victorious, but it was a hollow victory. His brother did not change, and permanently severed the bond that they held for so long.
'Devils never cry,' He stated as he shed a tear for the loss of his brother.
That was only the beginning part of the memories he viewed, but that was enough to sate the curiosity he had for the tiny guy. The following memories and adventures that Dante had gone on, though…
Devil Trigger… Majin Form… discovery of more descendants of Sparda… how fascinating.
It was a concept he found so much more interesting and innovating compared to those boring devil abilities he's more accustomed to. The closest thing he found in his immediate thought to resemble this concept was a Maou Lucifer condensing his all-powerful hereditary ability into a human form.
And this Mundus guy… he vividly remembered some angel statue guy trying to run away from him, and he managed to catch it thinking it was trying to lead him somewhere. Maybe it was the same guy… Dante, right? Maybe it was the same guy Dante had this feud with because of what his father did? Huh. For some hotshot that has this holier-than-thou attitude towards his nemesis's son, he was quite the pansy, begging for mercy when he was held in his hand.
It was so annoying, actually, to the point he had almost felt pity for the little angel… Mundus, he means… that he let it go. Until the statue shot shot lightning and energy spears into his face.
He was promptly taken care of immediately. The keyword had been ALMOST.
Oh, well. Let misgivings be misgivings, and let the past speak for itself. Focus on the present and plan for the future. Well, MORE focusing on the present. Even HE doesn't know what the future holds. Just as he continues flapping his wings on and on in the ever silent Dimensional Gap, the future continues flowing like a river, torrential or not.
Still, that name… Sparda… something about that name rang a bell, but where exactly, he does not know… Drinking buddies? Can't be. He doesn't even know what alcohol taste like. Or maybe he does, and he had forgotten years ago.
Whoever the guy was, he sounded like a more fun person than the Infinite Asshole…
Whatever. When the memory comes, it comes. He has a LOT of time to spare.
Anyways, back on the subject at hand. When he finished gazing through Dante's mind, the little Devil Hunter decided to mouth off to him as well. Well, after seeing such an interesting find, he couldn't possibly destroy him now, can he? It's like finding a mine full of diamonds that was remained a virgin mine until its first discovery… whatever the hell that means.
…But what were the odds of someone he had barely even known for a few seconds mouthing off like it was an every day task?
Obviously, Great Red had not been expecting Dante to mouth off to him as well.
Still, even if his respect for the Devil Hunter rose, the remark about his appearance still annoyed him to no ends. And he was about to be a nice guy and send him to this own world. Well, instead of sending him back, he sent the guy into this interesting reality he found about a few years ago, and added a little… alright, a few extra something's to Dante that'll help him in the long run when he touched him.
The flicking was just a bonus. He modified a few things about Dante for being an interesting find with a simple touch, and during that process flicked the bastard to satisfy his need for violence. Essentially, he killed two birds with one stone. Take that, asshole.
As Great Red watched the rift he created begin to mend itself, he began to wonder what changes Dante will bring to the world just by being there. For better, or for worse? What will happen when a new kind of devil joins the fray? Will it lead to a utopia that is the collective dream of idealists everywhere? Or will it become an apocalyptic future with ruins as cities and plains as former countries that all cynics have predicted to come true?
Well, the decisions all fall down to the Son of Sparda. Whether this reality is ready for him or not…
Enjoy your New Life.
[Dante's Office – Devil May Cry]
Meanwhile, at Dante's not-so-tidy office, in a secret room full of dangerous sentient weapons, the inhabitants, who happen to be the weapons themselves, began to stir, feeling some kind of dissonance that felt too out-of-place for them.
"Did you feel that, brother?" A red jagged scimitar propped on a wall full of Devil Arms spoke.
"Indeed. Our master is… very far away." A blue one next to it replied back.
These are the dual Devil Arm, Agni and Rudra, the Firestorm Brothers and one of Dante's earliest Devil Arm during his greenhorn days he made a contract with, albeit a slightly rushed and rather easy-to-uphold one. Too bad the requirement was them keeping silent, and they were VERY talkative.
"…It's only been seven seconds and I already miss the boy." A fancy devilish guitar underneath them said in a wishful feminine tone. "Who will play with me from now on?" This was Nevan, the succubus queen who also grew fond of her master. Even if it was initially because he was quite the handsome man, he really knew how to stroke her and soon enough, she had grown attached to him.
"Damn it woman, can't you think about things other than that!" The chilly remark came from a tripartite nunchaku with an ice theme, one of Dante's earliest Devil Arms alongside Nevan and Agni & Rudra, Cerberus. "Yes, he is locked in Hell, but it's not like you have to wait for him to return. You can just go to where he is if you want. You two DO share a bond, do you not?"
"What about you then? Surely you want to be with your owner as well? Yet, here you are!" inquired the demon succubus turned guitar.
"I would if I could, but can't. I do not possess the power to open and maintain a gate big enough for my soul to cross. You, however, are tiny. Compact, as they say. Just like those loudmouth brothers."
"We would also like to go but…" whined the Firestorm Brothers.
"Me too!" Artemis, a demonic gun resembling a ray gun, chimed in at another corner.
"And me three!" Gilgamesh added at the right of Agni and Rudra.
"It's never dull with him." Pandora stated in a calm tone over at the pool table.
"I want some ACTION!" Ifrit, the ever-so hot-blooded Flame Gauntlets with a dragon motif, roared.
"If Nevan goes, so do I!" Alastor shouted at the opposite corner of Artemis.
It was chaos in its purest form. All of these Devil Arms, which hold the essence and souls of powerful demons and devils of Antiquity, were in a contract with a single man… and all of them were arguing with one another like children who haven't reached a double-digit age. It was ironic though, as with so many high-ranking vassals under him, Dante could be considered an overlord or even a high-class noble in abysmal standards. A pity he never took the opportunity to be one, but that doesn't mean that his partners won't.
"There is a way." called Lucifer, knower of ancient secret and sorcery. Taking the form of a hellish backpack, shaped like a streamlined skull with large glowing red eyes that stare in fury, with metallic projections protruding from its forehead, he proceeded, "It is inconvenient and probably will get us in trouble, but I can take us to him." It paused slightly, before adding a small, "Probably…"
"Talk." demanded Alastor. The Thunder Sword managed to hear the sophisticated tone above the ruckus his fellow Devil Arms were making. Time seemed to mellow him out a little, especially on his first meeting with Dante, but he could still fall back in his stung up tone if he was excited or irritated. "The more time we stay here, the more time Dante continues using Rebellion instead of me!"
"We cannot open rifts directly to Hell or anywhere else, but we can go to our contractor, like any devil in the ancient rites." Silence greeted his announcement.
"Carry on." beckoned Gilgamesh, a set of gauntlets, greaves, mask, and back armor that absorbs organic material and convert them into steel. "We're listening."
After a brief pause, Lucifer continued, "Technically, we are all contracted to Dante even if it is in a twisted way. Some of us more than other." The last sentence was more to himself than anyone else. "This ritual demands that all contracts are equalized. Which means we are literally bound to our… ergh… master."
"What's the catch?" asked Beowulf, a set of flash gauntlets and greaves Devil Arm that had abhorred the Sons of Sparda ever since his soul was forcefully relinquished, and has mellowed over the passing years. Doesn't mean the hatred is completely gone.
"First. It means that he will be limited at first on how to use us. Second. Some of us who still were able to use their humanoid shape will find it difficult to use it because Dante's power and our own will be linked. There won't be any more essence of our own, and everything will be shared with him, and ONLY him! It also means that others who could not benefit from this perk will maybe be able to do so as well if the master wishes. Basically, we trade in power for versatility."
"Seems fine to me." Artemis said, satisfied somewhat by the explanation.
"Oh, and it's kinda permanent, so I hope you all never planned in advance to reign on your own or seek out another Devil Prince?" Lucifer asked as an afterthought.
"Never thought about it!" Agni and Rudra stated.
"I'm fine as I am, I suppose." Beowulf muttered.
"I want Darling~" Nevan bemoaned.
""I'm good!"" Ifrit and Pandora cheered simultaneously.
"I thought so!" Lucifer finished. "Though I have to warn all of you, I am not aware of the distance he is, and depending on how far it is, even if we eventually make our way to him, we'll definitely be scattered far away from one another. Maybe even countries apart. But we'll definitely get to him."
Lucifer shifted his attention to his fellow Devil Arms, who didn't seem to care about that tidbit he just announced and were eagerly waiting for his explanation. "…None of you are even interested in what I just said, huh?" More silence greeted him, and he sighed tiredly. "I don't know why I'm even trying anymore… Alright, so here's how the ritual goes…"
"Oh, hang on a sec. PANDORA! Grab Darling's coat while Lucifer is talking semantics! His first, dusty one on the pool table!" Nevan shouted at the briefcase Devil Arm, which had been standing completely still on top of Dante's first longcoat, with the right sleeve torn off.
"Got it! But what for?"
"My private reasons! Alright, Lucifer. How does it go?"
And so, Dante's Devil Arms begin plotting their transportation to their master and the next week, when someone checked the secret room, all of them had vanished from his office without a trace…
"Ow…" Dante declared as he opened his eyes. "…So what's the number of the license plate of that truck that hit me?"
He felt so weak now. In fact, this felt like the brief high school days when he had to wake up in the morning just to attend school. The notion was so silly when met with the fact that he was constantly running to keep demons away from the humans. Well, education was never a part of his forte to begin with, so whatever.
Dante began to make himself comfortable in the bed he was currently occupying. He hadn't felt this sense of relief in a long time, since he had never had the fortune or time to afford a bed, what with paying for the bed, paying for the shipment of the bed, and finally all the bed sheets and pillows. Too much effort. Last time he slept in a bed was when he was eight years old, and it was quite a nice feeling to experience it again.
He was about to drift off to sleep again… until he realized something.
He doesn't own a bed. At all. He sleeps on a couch.
Dante suddenly shot up so fast that a nearby nurse performing a routine check yelped in surprise. He began blinking the sleepy out of his eyes, raising a hand to. Memories suddenly began assaulting his mind like a bunch of honeybees to honey. Did… did all that just happen? That Dragon seriously flicked him so hard, he landed back in an alternate version of the Human World? Or something as ridiculous as that?
He glanced around the room he was in, and was met with the sight of white walls and ceilings, a futuristic looking machine with funny jagged lines occasionally flickering across it, and a window that was allowing a cool breeze to blow into the room…
'Am I in a hospital?' Dante wondered with surprise.
"Are you alright, young man?" Dante heard a voice next to him and turned to see the person talking to him.
It was a nurse. A human nurse, he mentally surmised from the scent and appearance. Asian. Normal figure. Quite the looker. In standard nurse like outfit, complete with a clipboard, and even glasses. Nationality… most likely Japanese. And she spoke perfect English. Not bad.
"Young man… I feel like I'm hitting my mid-40's, sweetie." Dante joked in his usual flirting tone.
"Really? Because you look like you're about in you late teen's." The nurse joked back. Dante was about to thank her for the compliment on his mug, however far-fetched it was, until he looked at the glasses over her eyes briefly… and was promptly stunned into silence. With both his appearance and the fact that indeed, the nurse was actually not joking around.
"I'm a little confused." He quickly summarized.
"Well, I've never had a case involving a teenager bloodied all over and making a full recovery in a week, so you're not alone." The nurse explained to Dante, but he was only half-listening.
'…Did I ever look THAT emo?' That was his first thought as he remember the image of his reflection. Then the second thought was, 'Wait, that was me.' Third thought was, 'What the hell?'
Alright, let's sum up the findings Dante had managed to get from the short amount of seconds he had from the moment he regained consciousness. Acknowledging that everything that he had happened to him before he woke up in this place is true, that means he's back in the Human World. Stupid dragon, for that matter. Why couldn't it send him back to his home in America, where Devil May Cry is? God forbid-
"Ow!" he cringed at the unexpected pain in his head, alerting the nurse out of her explanation.
-And to top it off, his head hurts for some apparent reason that has jumped over his head.
"So… where am I?" Dante asked curiously, rubbing his head to alleviate his headache.
"Hm? You're currently in The King Clinic. Is your head okay?"
Dante paused in his head rubbing and looked at the nurse clearly. Did he really just hear what she just said?
"…I'm sorry, sweetie, but can you repeat that for me?"
The nurse looked at him strangely, but complied with a kind smile, "You're currently situated at The King Clinic located in the Omotesando district of Tokyo, Japan. Are you sure you're okay, Mister…"
"Tony Redgrave, first name first…" Dante supplied listlessly, currently assessing his ridiculous situation.
He remained silent after that at the reveal, mulling over everything that has happened thus far. Added onto his list of crap-to-put-up-with is… he's in Japan, Land of the Rising Sun. Home of the manga's and anime's that Patty had ranted to him about during one of her visits to his office. And with that, Dante came to a simple conclusion.
Without doubt, today is definitely a Tuesday.
"This is gonna be a long ride home…" he muttered, earning a confused look from the nurse.
A/N: I like to believe that Dante is the kind of person who rarely takes things seriously, but can be serious when the situation calls for it. Not the kind of person who is 100% percent serious like how he was portrayed in DMC 2.
I'm trying to reach the kind of character he was in the 1st, 3rd, and 4th game, as well as the anime series. I want him to be sarcastic, witty, foul-mouthed, flippant towards power and authority, seemingly uncaring and callous, but ultimately a morally good person at heart who possesses a strong sense of justice.
Hence, the reason for all the quirks that the DMC fans may have come to know and love about Dante. I hope I accomplished that deed.
My only hope for now is that I managed to keep Dante in character the whole time. And not DMC 2 character personality, alright? He was too serious in that game and frankly, I didn't like it.
So… yeah! I said everything I wanted to say at the beginning, so look over that if you haven't read it yet.
Review! Comment on what shenanigans Dante's Devil Arms are getting themselves into! And review again!
-DarkAkatsuk1, beginning a new story