Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, or anything else mentioned.

In DMC1 the island's deserted because everyone was killed by demons, but what about two and three? They take place in huge cities: surely the demons didn't kill everyone, especially with a whole clan of part-demons on Vie du Marli,yet Dante sees only three people in DMC2. I've had the idea of doing the POV of someone in a refugee camp for a while: I like mixing the normal and the extraordinary, and I like exploring cultures.


He took out his cell phone (not to make a call, the network was down) but to check the time, out of idle curiosity. It didn't really make much difference how much time was left until dawn, but he wanted to know. Not that he knew what time dawn was here.

He'd covered his daughter Anne with his jacket, and her back was pressed up against the wall, eyes wide open and peering into the night.

It wasn't even midnight yet. He checked the status of his battery. It was good for another day. Should he leave it on? Surely his parents would be trying to call him, frantic to know where he was. Or Erin might call him, she surely had taken her cell phone with her to the meeting. She must be as frantic as he was.

There was a brief light that he could see over the roofs of the houses. It must be a few streets away. Funny that none of the buildings had caught fire. It was like they were taking care not to damage the city.

The person sitting next to him tapped him on the shoulder. He almost jumped, startled. The man glared at him, but passed him a bottle. "Thank you," he said, even though he doubted the man was one of the islanders that spoke English. The older generation hated outsiders.

He wanted to take a huge swig, but it wasn't much larger than a half-gallon of milk and there were many more people huddled here in the courtyard. Who knew if the water was still working? So he just sipped, and was glad he did.

He'd had local mead before, but this was strong stuff. Why would a church have it? After swallowing a mouthful (he'd heard alcohol could settle people's nerves), he wiped off the mouth and passed the bottle along, over Anne's head.

There was a cloud of smoke threaded with red flashes on the street, and one of the robots with the axe arms stalked over. When it tried to enter the courtyard, the wall flared up, and the thing disappeared. Why would a temple have a force field? He'd thought things like that were science fiction.

Science fiction like these robots?

How could these things have escaped? You'd think prototypes like this would be carefully guarded. He remembered books about rogue computers trying to take over the world. Those things were killing every person they came across, he'd seen people cut down in the streets, trying to reach this strange shelter.

If Anne's nurse (an islander, working for low wages in exchange for the English practice) hadn't insisted he come here as soon as the bell sounded, he and Anne would be dead. If he hadn't had enough respect for her, he wouldn't have listened.

And his daughter would be dead.

His wife was at headquarters. That was probably where these things had struck first, the complex in the center of the city.

This was like something out of the Resident Evil games! There were robots everywhere!

He couldn't hear anyone screaming. There had been a lot of screaming at first. Now he hadn't heard anyone in at least ten minutes.

There were a lot of glares and muttering directed at him. His pale skin marked him as a foreigner. He was just a geologist, even though he worked for Uroboros. Not that this would matter to people who had family out there. In fact, the discovery of the island's untapped mineral wealth was what had brought the company here in the first place.

His wife had remarked that another reason they had moved the biological division here was that due to its isolationist policies, Dumary Island hadn't signed many of the treaties limiting genetic experimentation. She'd uncomfortably revealed that the company's money kept local laws from addressing the issues.

"Mr. Johansen?" Not even when Anne had cried for an hour and he couldn't figure out what was wrong had he been so glad to see Freya. Maybe she could keep her countrymen from tossing him out of this temple's area. Was he profaning it by being here?

The briefing people transferred to the island got said to never let anyone know if you were or had been raised Christian or Muslim. The islanders were pagans, and had fled here to escape burning at the stake by the followers of the new religions. They hated Christians like some people hated Americans. And he was both.

He wanted to pray, but he didn't dare. Steven waved to attract her attention, and she picked her way through the people stretched out on the ground, trying to sleep, and sat in front of him. "Do you know what's going on?" Maybe the temple had a radio that could hear news stations and emergency broadcasts?

She nodded. "The sorcerer has unleashed demons so that the Guardian Clan will be too… much working… busy to guard the Arcana."

He stared at her. The local beliefs were fascinating, filled with odds and ends from all sorts of mythologies, but he'd thought Freya was too modern to say something like that so seriously. But he didn't dare insult her beliefs. "If you say so. What's being done?" How long will we have to stay here?

"The Protector is gathering the Arcana."

"I mean, what are the army and the police doing?"

She shook her head. "They have been slaughtered, except for those where there was much… things that go in weapons? Bulls?"

"Bullets, I think."

"Yes. And many men. If there are many of them to fight they can kill the demons with many bullets, but they are being attacked very much and cannot leave their home places. They may live, if they fight well."

"So you're calling in other countries' forces then?" How long until they could get here?

"No." She shook her head. "The Protector and the Guardian Clan will defend us from the demons, as they always have."

Surely the UN, or America, or someone would send an army. Unless there was a cover-up… He was wishing he hadn't played those games. "Are we safe here until they do?"

"Yes, this temple is under the protection of the gods." Freya nodded.

Gods with a forcefield? Now this was reminding him of Stargate. But why on earth would a temple on this island have a forcefield? "Do you know what happened to my wife?"

She shook her head, sadly, and it was clear in her eyes she thought Erin was dead.

He remembered that it had taken days to get everyone out of New Orleans after the hurricane, and this wasn't the US. Everything would have to be brought in from off the island. How much food could there possibly be in this temple? They were near the center of the city (he and Erin had rejoiced to get a house with such a short commute).

He tried to find a brightside. How many of those things could there be, really? And they must be prototypes, so maybe there would be glitches. They looked very weird, maybe strength had been sacrificed for looks. Sure, they had cut down running civilians (it helped to think of this as a game, or TV show, tell himself things like this didn't happen in real life), but against a real army? "Is there anything else I should know?"

She leaned forward, speaking softly into his ear. "I have told them that you are a teacher."

"Thank you," he whispered back. She had said they believed something about a sorcerer, but Uroboros had to be responsible for this and if they knew he worked for them…

He heard wolves howling in the distance. Anne shivered so he lifted her up and settled her on his lap. "Dada…" She tugged at his collar.

"Shh, it's okay, everything's going to be all right," he soothed her, and prayed to any god that would listen that he wasn't lying.