Disclaimer: Anything that's copyrighted in this story is not owned by me.

Joe: For those of you who seen my author name and clicked on the name of this story expecting a humour fic, you'll be disappointed. And, for those of you who are wondering what the "Joe:" means, click on my bio.

As advertised, this is a war fic between demons and humans. Things won't really kick up for a good few chapters, so bear with me. There's a lot of plot to build up.

This is important. So important that I'm putting it in nice bold underlined letters. Old readers should take this into account (I've edited this chapter since I first posted it). Since I began this before Devil May Cry 4 was released, I'll have to adjust the timetable accordingly. Take it as such:

Devil May Cry 3.

Devil May Cry 1.

Devil May Cry 2.

Devil May Cry: Hell's Frontline.

Devil May Cry 4.

Anyway, let's begin.

Devil May Cry: Hell's Frontline

Dante Sparda lay asleep on his chair, his feet resting on the mahogany desk.

On the desk lay a newspaper. The headline read: Five More Mysterious Killings Occurred in Wyoming. All Evidence suggests Manslaughter.

Dante knew what happened there. It wasn't manslaughter. The killings were planned, by an entity that he didn't know of yet. More and more sightings of demons were occurring lately, meaning more and more business for the devil hunter. He and Trish were often gone on different jobs at a time, and they had hired someone to write down the whereabouts of people who rang when they were gone.

They had to abolish the password system. This was because of several accidents that had happened before. People who rang in without the password were in dire need of help, and they never lasted much longer without it. People had died when Dante had refused service to them, and he knew that it was all his fault.

At the moment, Dante was enjoying a rare recess from work. Trish was upstairs, doing god knows what. It didn't matter. He had to sleep while he could. Before, he had gone days without sleep, as clients would ring up at any time. Crime, as they say, never sleeps.

A sudden BANG woke Dante from his slumber.

When he came to his senses, he groaned.

He knew what that sound meant. It had happened way too many times before. And it meant trouble.

With a heavy sigh, Dante shifted himself from his chair and walked through the door to his side, which led to the stairs. The living quarters were upstairs, downstairs was merely just the office.

Dante reached the kitchen/living room to find the source of the noise.

There, just at the microwave, was Trish.

She had a puzzled look to her face as she slammed her fist against the appliance in question, which had smoke radiating from it.

Dante rolled his eyes. This had occurred often for the past year or so. Ever since Trish had come, to be precise.

"Stop it. You know that hitting it only makes it worse," Dante announced.

Trish turned towards him, an annoyed look plastered to her face.

"These stupid human things never work! It's not my fault!" she said angrily.

What was happening was that Trish had broken yet another microwave. Ever since she had arrived, she had gone through around 19 microwaves.

Dante was just about to scold her when the phone rang.

He groaned again.

"You get that. I'm too tired," Trish demanded "I took the last five today."

Dante shuffled down the stairs to pick up the phone, muttering curses. He put the receiver up to his ears.

"Devil May Cry. How can I help you?" he stated in a bored voice. The amount of times that he had said that in the past 24 hours...

The client lived only a few blocks away. He could walk. Apparently, he was suffering from a sudden infestation of several hooded figures in red with scythes. Hell Lusts, obviously.

Dante strolled over to his wall and took out Alastor. He could get this done with in just a few minutes. He then checked his holsters. Ebony and Ivory were settled safely in them.

He kicked open the door and yelled out:

"See ya soon, if I'm not back in half an hour, call the cops, kay?"

There was a muffled reply coming from upstairs that stated the affirmative. Dante gave out another sigh and walked out to face the moonlit street outside.

A shadowy figure stood on a nearby rooftop, watching the hunter below leave his dwelling and head for the main road.

Illuminated only by the midnight moon, the figure silently leaped down onto a lower building. He glanced cautiously back at the only other occupant of the alleyway. The hunter didn't appear to have noticed anything. The figure smiled. The time that it had spent in the underworld hadn't rusted his skills at urban stealth.

There was a slight noise to his left, making the figure immediately assume a fighting stance. Then, it relaxed. It was only a cat. Just another hunter of the night.

The figure placed his hand on his sheathed sword. With a movement so swift it appeared only a blur, the figure made a lightning-quick slash before sheathing his sword again.

As soon as the sword thudded shut into the sheath, the cat hit the ground with it's eyes focused on the same spot. They would never move again.

When all was clear, the figure leaped upwards, soaring high into the air. He landed right on his destination, the building on the other side of the road. A cloud of dust erupted from where he landed.

The Devil May Cry.

The figure huddled down, blending himself in with his surroundings. Now, all that was left to do was wait.

Dante arrived at the clients house. It was a terraced house, and quite small.

Dante knocked once on the door before knocking it down. All he had to do was let the customer know that he was there, that was all. There was no time to waste in waiting for someone to answer the door. Dante stepped inside the house.

There were definitely signs that demons had entered here.

Books were flung from shelves, windows were cracked, the carpet had holes in it, and several doors were hanging from their hinges.

"Hello?" Dante said loudly.

There was a muffled yelp of relief coming from the cupboard under the stairs.

Dante smiled. The Harry Potter take on hiding. Funnily enough, it normally worked. Lesser demons never seemed to notice the doors built into stairs. The same goes for floors, or the kind of ones that people pull down to get into their attic. They were stupid enough, and only looked for doors that were placed right in front of them, in walls.

Dante opened up the door, and a small man fell out. He was clutching a phone in his hand, and had a look of deep relief on his face. He immediately hid behind Dante as soon as he clambered to his feet.

"Thank god you're here!" he rasped "I don't know how much longer I could've stayed in there!"

Dante inspected him. The skin surrounding his eyes were red, as were his eyes. He had obviously been crying over something. Dante voiced his thoughts.

"You live here alone, or are there others?" he enquired.

The man's face paled. He didn't seem to like Dante's choice of conversation.

"I do now." he muttered.

That was all he said on the subject.

Dante understood. The man had lost a loved one. He knew how it felt, having had his mother taken from him at an early age. Dante didn't ask any further questions about it.

Dante told the man to keep low, and call out if he was in danger. Dante didn't want the man to get in the way, as he would if Dante kept him close. Plus, there was the fact that Dante would hold back on his abilities, not wanting to scare the man.

Dante walked up the stairs first, intending of doing a sweep of the building from upstairs downwards.

Dante kicked open the first door to his right. A bedroom. As soon as he took two steps in, there came a bloodcurdling shriek of laughter from behind him.

Dante immediately jumped upwards without hesitating, knowing what would happen otherwise. Upon landing in a crouching position, Dante looked up. The hell lust had stopped in it's tracks, confused; it's blade slashed only air.

Reacting quickly, Dante impaled the lust with Alastor.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Dante murmured as he pulled the demon off the end of his armament, knowing full well the pain of having Alastor through one's chest.

As the demon slumped downwards it dematerialised into sand. Dante allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction. T

Although, that was only one of them. There was bound to be more.

As if to affirm what Dante just thought, there came a loud plea of help from downstairs.

Dante hurried down the stairs, skipping five at a time as he bounded downwards. He could sense at least ten of the creatures in the general direction of the kitchen.

Dante kicked down another door to find the man hiding behind the counter of the kitchen, a group of lusts patrolling the other side of it.

Dante roared and dived into the group, knocking down several of them. He rolled just in time to avoid having a scythe slice through his neck. Spinning his legs in the sir, Dante rose, pushing against the ground to make him airborne.

A lust shrieked as it swung it's scythe at Dante, who was still airborne and upside down.

Dante parried with Alastor, then pushed against the scythe with it to elevate himself even higher into the air.

His feet gripped onto the kitchen light bulb, while he was still upside down. He took out Ebony and Ivory and rained a shower of bullets onto the helpless enemies, who could not reach Dante with their weapons.

When he got tired of using bullets and after one or two formed into sand, Dante pulled downwards with his feet, forcing the light bulb and the wire it was connected to uproot from the ceiling, making Dante the right side up. He closed his eyes as the light bulb connected with the ground, exploding in a brilliant shower of sparks.

He landed on his feet, then turned to the temporarily blinded lusts. Dante gripped Alastor tighter, then sliced through the entire group with a single low swipe.

To the man hiding behind the counter, it was as if Dante had teleported to the opposite side of the group of demons, but suddenly holding Alastor outwards into the air.

The lusts stood perfectly still as Dante placed Alastor slowly into it's holster on his back.

Then, an explosion of sand erupted where the lusts once were as if on cue. When the cloud of sand subsided, all that was there to be seen was a bunch of bodies separated from their knees and feet, then they themselves formed into sand.

Dante smiled as he held out his hand, offering help to the man hiding behind the counter with a look of deep awe on his face.

The man accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet. He followed Dante as he walked to the front door.

"H-how can I thank you?" the man stammered, incapable of proper speech.

Dante ignored him as he fitted the front door back into it's frame.

The man pulled out his wallet.

"How m-much?" he stuttered.

Dante smiled and waved his hands, signalling that the man should put the money away.

"No problem," Dante told the astounded man "I needed some exercise. I'm only sorry that I didn't come in time to save the others."

And with that, Dante left, leaving a broken man to his troubles.

Dante was still grinning on his way back. That was fun; a bunch of mindless lesser demons to play with.

He didn't need that money. It was payment in itself. Plus, he was getting plenty as it was, more people would call anyway. His wallet was already filling to the brim.

In fact, he might be able to get that Lamborghini that he always dreamed of getting…

His current mode of thought was interrupted when he noticed that all of the lights were out when he reached home.

He frowned. He was sure that he had left them on. And Trish couldn't have turned them off. They had made an agreement that at least one of them would stay awake at home at night, considering the current situation.

He cautiously opened the front door and peered in. He couldn't sense anything inside. Nothing. He sighed and walked in.

If he wasn't so concentrated on the inside, he would have sensed the figure slipping down from the roof and skulking in the shadows behind him.

Dante stepped inside and flicked on the light switch, smiling as he remembered what he had done with the clients light bulb.

Then, as soon as he took two steps forward, the light went back out.

Dante froze. This time, he definitely sensed something behind him.

He heard a chink of metal, then he hurriedly brought Alastor above his head.


Dante frowned. He recognised that aura. Similar to his, actually. When you first sense it seems weak and human. Then, after inspection, you can tell that it has something much, much more powerful hidden inside.

Then, his suspicions were confirmed as a low voice broke through the silence.

"A second later and you would be dead by now. You're getting rusty, Dante."

Dante's eyes widened. It couldn't be.

He reached out and flicked back on the light.

There, holding the sword that Dante had just managed to block, was Vergil, his estranged twin brother.

Dante gripped Alastor tighter and pulled it out of the lock that was holding both of the blades. He then swiftly brought it menacingly to point Vergil's throat.

"You again." Dante growled.

Vergil gave a cheeky sneer.

"Your swordplay isn't the only thing getting rusty, brother. Even a human could have told that it was me by now." he teased calmly, not letting his voice show any emotion.

Dante glared.

"Shut up! I have the upper hand here."

Vergil remained calm, as he always does. Then, he put on a tone of false hurt.

"Oh? And what makes you think that I mean harm, brother dear?"

Dante relaxed his grip on Alastor, though keeping the same level of caution.

"Harm? You've meant harm every time we've met since we were 18!" he growled accusingly.

Vergil let loose a grin.

"Is that so? Then, we'll have to work on our conversation skills then, won't we?"

Dante suppressed a grin and kept his blade level. He wouldn't let Vergil take him off guard.

Vergil seemed to read his mind.

"Still don't trust me? Here."

Vergil threw his katana, Yamato, to the ground.

Finally, but slowly, Dante relaxed. He put Alastor back on the wall.

Vergil picked up Yamato and holstered it quickly, then slowing down just before the blade was fully in, just as he always did.

Dante stayed on his feet. He still didn't trust Vergil enough to sit down in his presence.

Vergil on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine, then made himself comfortable on Dante's favourite chair. Dante never took his eyes off Vergil.

"So," Dante stated. Vergil looked up at him "if you don't want a fight, then why did you come?"

Vergil's face of comfort turned grim.

"Enough chit-chat," he said in a voice as grim as his face "I came here for a good reason, and I'm not wasting my time any more."

Dante nodded to show he was listening.

Vergil started off.

"As you may have noticed, demons are becoming numerous."

Dante nodded again, this time in agreement.

"And, because of that, so are deaths," Vergil continued "you may think that this will eventually fade out, or something like that."

Dante's became worried. Vergil was putting in words the worries that had plagued him for the past few months.

"Also, I found myself ragged and scarred not two days ago, in the middle of nowhere…the only memories that I have before that is of me being defeated by you, then challenging the Prince of darkness…"

Dante gasped. This explained a hell of a lot. That Malet Island incident.

"Everything that happened from then on are extremely vague…everything is either misty or black and white…"

By now, Vergil's state of speech had slowed down, and for the first time since their youth, Dante saw fear in Vergil's eyes.

"Also…when I awoke…I was older. Much older. When I had challenged the Prince of Darkness, I was about 19...but now…"

Dante suppressed another laugh. Vergil was facing what everyone found out at some point in their lives. They were getting older.

Of course, being half-demon, they were immortal. Once they reached somewhere in their twenties, they stopped ageing, but going from 19 to about 27 in the space of one moment of memory, that would just be terrifying.

Vergil continued,

"Since my awakening, I have stolen from shops to survive… as you can see, I have regained my old fashion sense,"

Dante let himself smile. This was true. All he could ever remember Vergil wearing was blue, even as a child.

"But," Vergil's voice regained it's former grim quality "I know what's going on here. During my time in the underworld, I heard a whisper of a plan being formed by the forces."

Dante looked confused.

"What kind of plan?" he asked.

Vergil's eyes told Dante that he didn't want to know, even before Vergil answered.

"A plan to override the humans. A plan to regain all power lost 2,000 years ago."

Dante's jaw dropped. Around 2,000 years ago, Sparda shut away all evil. Before that, humans had acted as slaves to all mankind. They were the lowest of the rankings, even lower than the lesser demons, such as Sargasso.

The year that even the humans recognised as the year that all evil took a large blow.

The date: 25 December, 0 B.C.

Though, the terms A. D and B. C were originally used in the ancient demon language, Lìstook, the humans mistook it as a term used in their main language, Latin.

The humans had no idea over what really happened that day. Looking for the most possible answer, they discovered that, in the East, the Jews had declared that a "Messiah" was born. Therefore, that is why, humans celebrate the 25th of December.

If one was to look in the ancient records, they would discover that Christ was born in 6 B. C, 6 years before the demons banishment.

B. C does not mean "Before Christ".

In the ancient demon language, it means "Reign Of Evil," the words "bèniocalì Carcianitùm" are the initials used.

A. D is not the Latin term for the years after, but the Lìstook term for "Demon Banishment," or in their words, "Aeonù Demonica,"

When Sparda banished the demons, he set a worldwide spell to erase the memories of all enslavement from the demons from the minds of the humans. Therefore, there is no record of worldwide slavery.

Dante was finding trouble to find the right words.

"You mean," he rasped "that they're trying to revive Mundus? Or some other big-ass demon? Argosax?"

Vergil shook his head.

"No. I'm talking all-out war."

First chapter, done and done. You may notice a good few changes from when it was first posted. I'm constantly going back to old chapters and improving them. If you're a first time reader, this is of no remote importance to you, so just ignore any of my author's notes until the newest chapter.