A/N: This story was written in very close resemblance to Lucifer, the TV Series. I do not own any characters from that franchise; I just wanted to try having the DMC characters interact with the idea of Lucifer as the Devil. I am not particularly satisfied with how this turned out, and thus will upload 2 chapters this week to make up for this lacklustre one. Still, I hope to receive comments whether you liked, or not liked this short story.

[The New Devil]

Personality: Post-DMC4SE/Pre-DMC5 Vergil

A well-dressed man in a crisp suit and sensible dress shoes stepped from the subway, tugging his suit lightly to straighten the creases. He had taken it off during the short quickie session on the train, but in the process of taking it off it must have gotten some unfortunate folds. Still, his appearance was to his satisfaction as he looked around him with the novelty of a tourist. It made sense; this was his first time around here and he was curious about how his new home was going to be like.

"Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me." He stopped a passing woman with his velvet voice, stunning her into a charmed smile. He was glad that his charms were working. They were an important tool in his new line of trade after all.

"What can I help you with? I'll do anything." The woman in her mid-thirties (by his best guess), smiled widely at him, clearly charmed.

"I don't need as far as 'anything'. Do you know the way to Hell?"

"Hell?" She repeated, looking confused for a moment.

"Yes, Hell." He confirmed, still not letting his smile waver.

"Ah, you mean the nightclub! For a moment there, I thought you meant the real Hell. You know, the place with the fire and tortured souls..."

"Oh no, I'm definitely looking for the nightclub. Why would I want to go to a place with fire and tortured souls?" He laughed along with her.

"Awfully early for today's party in Hell, aren't you?"

"You can consider me quite late for yesterday's party." He answered back charmingly. "Now, where can I find my road to Hell? I was told by a nice young lady earlier in the subway to get off at this stop."

He kindly neglected to say that that nice young lady had screamed it to him when he brought her to the climax of their sexual encounter.

"It's just down this street. You'll come by a tall white building. Hell is quite impossible to miss." The helpful passer-by-lady answered, and he answered in his charming way before walking off. He didn't want to make too much trouble before getting his bearings and surroundings scoped out yet. He needed to be as safe and normal as he possibly could until he was sure of things.

The road to Hell was short, and soon he found himself standing at its gates. He wasn't surprised at all to find a line of poor souls already waiting for the gates of Hell to open for them. Unfortunately, he was not one of them as he approached the bouncer at the front and gave his name. When his name could not be found on the guest list, he suggested the bouncer look a little harder, and that there should be an interesting mark beside his name.

He laughed lightly when he finally found his name on the list, with a little skull and crossbones attached beside it. The owner of Hell definitely had an interesting sense of humour, and he silently approved of it as he found himself waved inside. The doors opened to heart-pounding, soul-shaking music blasting, and the fading light of the late evening was completely swallowed as he walked through the doors to Hell into a darkness that he knew he would get used to sooner or later.

He took his time for a short walk to enjoy the interior design as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the corridor of entrance. He had been expecting something slightly cheesy –given that the place had been named Hell –but was pleasantly surprised to find a sense of class in the interior design. The corridor quickly opened to the main dance floor, and inside was already a crowd of men and women rubbing each other under the excuse of dancing, clothes losing themselves magically.

Laser lights and club lights pulsated along with the beats that blasted from speakers, and he stood still at the edge of the dance floor for a moment to take in the sight. He could smell it all in the air. Alcohol, cigarettes, money, drugs, sex... Almost everything that made humanity go astray existed in the same building, on the same dance floor and at the bar and tables near it. This was truly Hell, truly the festering place of all sins.

He knew he was going to enjoy the place very well, as the smile unconsciously drew across his face upon his find. He couldn't wait to begin, but first things first.

"Hello, Handsome. What are you here for?" A blonde approached him from the side with a glass of whiskey and a smile that could mean invitation to a variety of things. He could read the challenge in her eyes: he could get her to do many things if he knew how to ask properly.

"I'm looking for something." He answered simply, letting his eyes check her up and down. Tight fitting leather barely covered the important places of her gender, and white, pale skin shone and almost glittered in reflection of the laser lights.

"People come to Hell looking for many things. Sex, women, drinks, drugs, money, murder... Which one are you looking for, darling?" She leaned in to whisper seductively in his ear despite the fact that they could hear each other rather well above the pounding music.

"I'm looking for the Devil." His honest answer came as he closed his hand over hers, taking the glass of whiskey from her grasp. "But I wouldn't mind a good drink while I'm at it."

"The Devil?" The woman repeated in mild surprise, watching him throw back her stolen drink. "You came to Hell looking for the Devil? My, my, aren't you a brave boy."

"I don't think there's any thing for me to be afraid of in Hell. It's where I've always meant to be." He commented, letting the woman pull him through the crowd with a strong hand on his arm. She clearly knew what she was doing as she deposited him at the corner of the bar, then ducked behind it herself, grabbing a few cups and bottles, beginning to mix a good concoction.

She was done in quick minutes, throwing a pair of cups with a weird mixture on the counter in front of him.

"Talk to me about you, Handsome. What kind of Devil are we looking for? I'm sure we can come to an agreement." She said, leaning across the bar and licking her lips seductively.

"The kind who ran the actual Hell, and brought you here to run the place." He threw the drink back without suspecting a thing, making a small sound of surprise when the kick came much stronger than the whiskey that he had ingested just moments ago. "You make a real good drink."

"You're not human, are you?" She continued to ask, and it took an experienced man to see the shift in her glittering black eyes. He had had a suspicion that he knew who she was when she first approached him, but now he was sure that his guess was spot on.

"I don't really know what I am. My identity is a little fuzzy around the corners." He confessed, but it only drew an amused grin across her face.

"Hell is the best place for people with fuzzy identities. In fact, it's one of the entry requirements." She said, pulling her phone out and giving it a quick type. Once she was done sending her text, she left it on the bar beside her, then took the empty glass from him, washing up.

"How was the Fall?" She asked conversationally out of nowhere, and he choked slightly on his second drink, putting the glass down and staring at her with wide eyes.

"You know?"

"Of course." She chuckled, pausing slightly in her washing to give him a look. "Just like how you know I'm not human."

"But aren't you just a bartender?" He pressed, curious. He had thought she was just the demon that the Devil brought out of Hell to help out around... well, around Hell.

"I tried to tell that to her, but this bitch was always more than just a bartender." An intruding voice made him look to the side to see another well-dressed man sliding up to take the seat beside him, his own glass already empty. "Trish, make me another."

"This bitch isn't making anything for you until you agree that she can go out tomorrow night. I'm not solely yours, Dante." The woman –now named Trish –answered sharply to the newcomer.

"But the party will be good tomorrow. Who will mix the drinks for me tomorrow if you're gone? I brought you out of Hell for a reason."

"To run this place for you, not to mix you drinks." Trish bit back, but the funny thing was that she still took his empty cup, and continued to mix despite her words saying otherwise. "And you've found your replacement. He'll mix tomorrow."

He blinked in surprise to find himself referred to, turning to the man named Dante just in time to exchange a look of surprise.

"I wasn't aware that I was here to mix drinks. I was looking for the Devil." He defended, looking back to Trish who was mixing blind –her hands doing the work but her eyes not watching.

"You found him." She tilted her head towards Dante.

"You're the Devil?" He turned back to Dante again, giving the man a second look-over. Sure, Dante had the charming man appearance turned on –actually a little ruffled with too much sexual action –but for some reason he had pictured the Devil to be a little ... darker. From the rumours he had heard about Hell and its owner, the picture he had painted of the Devil had been rather different.

"Guilty as charged. Who is asking?" Dante answered with a grin, accepting the mixed drink from Trish and throwing it back as soon as it was done with a grateful smack of his lips.

"I thought the Devil was Sparda." He replied instead of stating his identity.

"That's ancient news. Pops got bored of the job, so he left it to me. I've been running Hell for the past ten years." Dante snorted. "Were you living under a rock?"

"No, I was living in the clouds." He answered on automatic, but shook himself out of his surprise. "But it doesn't matter. I'm supposed to be your replacement."

"So I heard." Dante answered. "You have a name?"

"Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar."

"Cool." Dante's facial expression, however, expressed that he thought the name was furthest away from 'cool'. "You will be mixing my drinks tomorrow, Luci. I have Trish today."

"I'm here to be a replacement, not a bartender?" Lucifer reminded.

"Well, the first thing you need to know about Hell is that you need to know how to mix a good one. You can learn tomorrow. I'm sure you're smart. Your dad wouldn't have sent us an idiot who can't learn on the job."

"Actually, he sent me because I rebelled. Said 'no' to him, and tried to lead my brothers to do the same? I'm sure you have heard about it."

"I might have heard of something like that. Well, sucks. But hey, that makes the two of us. I've got daddy issues as well. An absentee father, hit me when I did anything wrong, then abandoned me all of a sudden expecting me to pick up his slack. You and I get on well, Luci." Dante answered, accepting the second cup that Trish had silently made for him on automatic. "Good talking. I got to go. Girls are asking for me."

Abruptly, Dante left the bar as quickly as he came, leaving Lucifer surprised.

"Is he always like that?" He turned to ask Trish, who only shrugged.

"You've already caught him on his good day."

"I always had the impression that he was a lot darker and slightly more mysterious. Was whatever I heard about that guy's father?"

"Could be." Trish answered again with her shrug. "But it could mean Dante's brother too."

"He has a brother?" Lucifer asked in disbelief.

"You'll see in a while. He's coming to see you."

"See me? What for?"

"Vergil has a say in Hell too. He doesn't really care about this place, but he cares about the person becoming the new Devil. Something about not wanting to let Dante give the role to someone who can spoil whatever their father has done." Trish answered. "He's also the reason I have to go out tomorrow. We have a job together."

"Isn't it your job to look after Hell?"

"Yeah, but that's what Dante told me to do. I'm loaned between the both of them."

"But why are you loaned between the two of them? Don't you belong to the Devil and the Devil only?" Lucifer continued, still confused at the situation he had found himself in. Hell sure seemed to be run quite nicely by a Devil like Dante –though there seemed to be more of the booze, drugs and sex than the actual bloodshed of angry murderers and people looking for revenge. Still, it was something Lucifer forgave: even the Devil had his own preferences of the types of sins he enjoyed from day to day. It wasn't anybody's fault that Dante as the Devil liked sex more than killing.

"I belong to the Devil and the Devil only." Trish answered with Lucifer's exact words, setting another glass on the counter between them. When Lucifer reached for the glass, however, the demon gave his hand a light slap, surprising him. "This round's not for you."

"You'd get in trouble if Dante sees you treating a customer like that." Another newcomer appeared beside Lucifer, taking the glass off the counter and throwing it back naturally as if he knew that it belonged to him without even asking.

Lucifer turned, and was silently surprised to see a man looking remarkably similar to the Devil that had just left him to get on the dance floor. He could see slight differences, though. Their hairstyles were different and this newcomer's features were sharper. Still, there was no need to pry further on this man's identity; he was undoubtedly the Devil's brother.

"I'm not exactly a customer." Lucifer answered, playing with his empty glass absently as he waited for sapphire-green eyes to turn to him fully, assessing him up and down. "Trish told me you were coming to see me."

"Ah, so you're the new Devil." Vergil answered, replacing his glass on the counter right where it had been placed. Trish wordlessly received the empty glass, moving away to wash it and leaving the both of them in their private conversation. "How do you like Hell so far?"

"It suits me quite well. I like what your brother has done with the place."

"Will you run it the same way?" The question seemed slightly more like a job interviewer's question –something more like what he had been expecting when he arrived than what he had actually gotten from the Devil himself.

"Similar, I guess." Lucifer shrugged. "What does it have to do with you?"

His replying question, though, seemed to surprise Vergil slightly.

"You don't know?"

"What am I supposed to know?"

Instead of a reply, Lucifer received silence as Vergil looked at him carefully again, as if trying to sense for signs of joke. Lucifer made sure he gave none, and moments passed before Vergil nodded to himself finally.

"You must have been surprised when you found out that Sparda wasn't the Devil anymore."

"Wha- How did you-"

"About your rebellion: I heard you fought many of your brothers during the rebellion. Is it true?"

Lucifer made an irritated noise at the back of his throat, turning around on his seat to lean against the counter and look out over across the dance floor.

"Is there anybody here who doesn't know about my Fall?"

"It is a well-known story. But if it comforts you, there are only three individuals right here who know you are the main character of that story, and you have met us all. Now, answer the question: did you, or did you not fight and win many of your brothers during the rebellion?"

"Yes, I did." Lucifer grumbled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You fought your father as well. Stories say you even managed to back him up against a mountain."

Lucifer's face darkened at the reminder of what he had done –or rather, what he had not done.

"I wish I did. All I did was make him stumble a little." Lucifer grumbled unhappily.

"It's good enough." Vergil announced. "Your achievements are good enough to be worthy of running Hell."

"What's it to you?" Lucifer grumbled, still annoyed at the fact that Vergil's words had quickly put a downer on his mood. Were brothers of the Devil supposed to be so obnoxious and annoying?

"It's important to me, because I know you are capable enough to take over me." Vergil extended his hand forwards, and Lucifer realised with surprise that he had actually been holding a sword all this while. That hand had been hidden behind the folds of Vergil's long coat. "Take it. The Devil's Sword. My father's sword."

"What- Why are you allowed to hold Dante's sword?" Lucifer received the light katana on automatic, standing up in surprise at the sudden gift.

"It's the Devil's sword, not Dante's sword." Vergil answered. "And because nobody seemed to have told you: When Sparda left, he left the job of being the Devil to both me and Dante. Dante isn't the only one with issues with Sparda. I've got a mess that he needs to clean up to. That's why the two of us are asking for a substitute. You're taking over the both of us as the Devil, so that we can find our father and kick his ass back here."