[Prologue]

The plains of black and red seemed to stretch into nowhere. The atmosphere of gloom, pain and anger seemed to hang like a veil, like the drawn curtains over eyes of every being here. Each being here were present for their own reasons, but never were these reasons anything good. Red, short grass grew on black fields, cemented floor making streaks within the painful painting.

The sky was painted the same color as the fields, and winged beings flew amongst the opaque black clouds, cawing and screeching in a tune that was nowhere near melodic. Some of these beings looked as if they had crawled out of children’s nightmares, while others seemed to not even be equipped with the proper aerodynamics for flight. Yet, one way or the other, they flew in the black-and-red sky.

None of these beings fought, yet none of them were truly friends or allies. They kept each other at bay, caring for themselves and their own small corner of this forsaken plain. They plotted their own plans and devices, waiting for a day where their king would come in again, and order them to do what they were made for. To kill, and to fight.

One of such being walked alone, through the fields. He held no grotesque appearance. In fact, his appearance was something akin to the Heavens above. His appearance stood out like a sore thumb above everything else. An angel, walking amongst the million devils and demons.

Eyes turned in his wake, staring at his back as he walked along, his pace leveled and even, his head kept only facing front. He walked with a confident strut, a walk that meant he knew exactly what he was here for. Yet, none of the demons, wallowing in their own sorrow and disgust, seemed to be able to raise a single claw, finger or appendage against him.

They knew exactly what he was, who he was. They only did not know why he appeared in this desolate corner of their world. They did not understand why he was here, wading through the land of the lowlifes.

He gave none of them a look. And none dared to stare at his face. They stared at his back, his equipments, and his physique. Yet, none dared to make a sound at his appearance. The screeches died and the flying demons stopped their flight.

He wore comfortable, fitting white robes that were stained red around his ankles. His sleeves were rolled up to the middle of his forearms, showing off half of the black tattoos written on his hands. His hood was up, covering his hair, and he carried a practical survival backpack. Striding upon his back was a claymore that was almost his height, with a hilt that was made of perfect white bone, carved perfectly. At his hips were chains, and at the end of those chains were menacing daggers.

In his hands, he held a katana and two amulets.

He walked to the middle of the field, where a stone circle raised slight above the black soil and red grass. He stood before the stone circle, unspeaking. He uttered no words, placing the two amulets on the stone circle, side by side.

He raised the katana, and brought it down, impaling the gem on both amulets.

An extremely loud crack sounded through the entire plain. A white flash blinded the black-red sky. After the demons regained their sight from the temporary blindness, all they could see was the black figure standing at the stone circle, holding up the glowing katana. The white robes were gone, but the figure of pitch darkness, in the shape of a man, held still.

The black figure brought the katana around, making two distinct slices in the air. Then, as if the dimension itself had been pulled apart by a single slice, two tears formed in mid-air. The black figured sheathed up the glowing katana, still holding it carefully in his hand.

He walked towards one of the slices in the air, staring into it.

The demons craned their neck to see what was happening.

The black figure began to form a more distinct shape. The facial features set in. The color of the man began to fill in. White hair began to cover the black head. The slicked up hairstyle did not wave in the wind. An outfit began to show. Blue trench coat took over the white robes that had been present before. Motorcycle boots gave way to practical hunting black boots. His katana took on another form.

He took on entirely another different form, another different physique. This body was stronger, faster, better. This body was powerful. This body belonged to someone else.

He walked into the tear in the world, disappearing through the gap.

He did not return.

**********************************************************************

The bell tinkled and I looked up from my magazine, looking forward to seeing my girlfriend. Hopefully she had pizzas with her. One way or another, girlfriend or pizza, both would work well for my day. Even if my girlfriend was a tight-fisted bitch who constantly demanded that I paid her my due.

What met me at the door was something else entirely.

He swiped his hood back, dripping water all over the floor as he walked in with no preamble. He spoke no words to me –that stupid proud bastard –as he merely walked towards the desk, towards the door leading to the back. The little girl wasn’t around –she was at school –so there was no one to greet him. It wasn’t like he would greet back in reply anyway.

He threaded his hand through his hair, forcing it to stand back up since the rain had pulled it down, till his hairstyle was like mine. His lips were kept in a strict purse, but he made for me either way.

He stopped before the desk, and since he rarely did that, I brought down my magazine, meeting his eyes with no fear. He looked deep into my eyes for a long moment. Then he reached for something…

I brought my gun around and shot him once in the forehead, forcing him to jerk his head back. I did not lower the gun, however, bringing the other around to aim it at him too.

“Put the pizza down. That’s mine.” I said, still keeping eye contact.

The side of his lips quirked. He picked up the pizza, and held it between two fingers, shaking it before my eyes in a silent challenge.

“Last chance, Vergil. Put the pizza down.” I warned again, but my brother didn’t care. When did he care, anyway?

He brought the pizza up to his lips, and took an enormous bite. I fired.

My bullet met nothing except cement of the wall. I spun around to find him already taking his second bite, already at the door.

“You’ve got a mission, Dante. Time to get your lazy ass off that crap you’re sitting on.” He smirked at me, finishing the pizza in the third bite, and slamming the door close before I could fire another bullet at him.

I sighed. Another mission, huh?

With Vergil, missions were never easy. By a personal enjoyment, Vergil loved to see me in trouble. He loved to keep me in trouble, watching me dig my way out. And he loved watching me fall.

Of course, I loved to do the same to him, but he naturally had a more conniving mind as compared to mine. He probably honed in on it while in Hell, while I was spending my time rotting in this hellhole I called my office. But where could I go? Devil May Cry was my home. The home that I had since ours was ruined by the capture of our father, the death of our mother.

The door slammed open again, and this time, it was truly my girlfriend. I felt a smile begin to take my face at the sight of her, but it faded away when she began to shout at me.

“Get that lazy off that thing! We’ve got trouble in the streets, and I’ll be damned if I don’t kill Vergil for this!” She yelled, aiming a pistol at my head and firing off a single round to emphasize her point. As my head reared back at the impact of the bullet on my forehead, I grabbed my gun around, and shot in her general direction, watching as one of the demons turned to dust behind her.

She didn’t stay to give me her thanks, before she turned back the way she came, shooting like there was no tomorrow. I sighed, getting up slowly, walking over to get my sword and coat off the rack, hearing gunshots all the same. Another door slammed open, and Vergil walked out with a new set of clothes, his katana in his hand.

I glared at him, remembering what my girlfriend said.

“Not my fault. Portals opened while I was trying to send another demon back. She thinks I’m the one opening them.” Vergil raised both hands in surrender at my glare.

“There must be reason, bro.” I walked out of my office, beginning to shoot. The demons were flooding the street for some apparent reason, and they came in quantities that I hadn’t since… well since the last incident.

“She said she saw me running away from the scene, katana and all. Yamato was in my room the entire day today.”

“Lady wouldn’t lie.”

“Maybe she needs to get her eyes checked.” Vergil said, summoning swords, and directing them at the demons. Lady was neck-deep in demons, but we were pretty sure she could survive. For now, we were content to using firearms. I wasn’t up to the mood of hack and slash today.

I was about to reply, when I heard cheerful laughter above the gunshots. The laughter was made in a voice that was my own, and it definitely made me stop. Vergil stopped too, exchanging a look with me. Then we both watched as someone flew past us. Someone –who looked exactly like us, with my devil-trigger wings –carrying Vergil’s katana and slicing the air.

We watched as tears in the air formed, and demons spilled from those tears. As if the dimension between Hell and this world had been torn open, the demons flooded in.

“Guys! Don’t be idiots, and do something!” Lady screamed as she let Kalina Ann loose on the approaching horde.

I turned to give Vergil a look, seeing him unsheathing his sword.

“Maybe we are the ones who need to check our eyes. Who was that? A triplet or something?” I asked as I slowly grabbed Rebellion’s hilt.

Vergil shrugged, getting into stance as a demon began to launch at him.

“Demon. He tore through dimensions with that katana. Created portals between the worlds. I found one a little while ago. I know where it leads to.”

Of course, it was expected of Vergil to know everything. Mr. Clever Boy never failed to know everything anyway. What did Vergil not know?

Maybe that I was better looking than him, and that I was way more awesome than him.

“Should I be asking where it leads to? I’ve got the feeling you want to throw me through that portal.” I plunged Rebellion through a demon, grabbing hold of its skull head and pulling it away from the rest of its body. Using the head, I pitched it at its brethren, knocking its friend’s head off too.

“We are going through the portal, Dante.” Vergil emphasized, staking a demon that was behind me.

“You are? That’s surprising.” I mumbled as I ended another demon, clearing the way away from my shop and towards my girlfriend. Lady probably would have my head for making her fend for herself for so long.

“We. We are going to pay someone we haven’t seen in a long while a visit.” Vergil reemphasized, keeping close to me so that the conversation wouldn’t be lost in the screech of metal against metal and deafening gunshots.

“Who?” I didn’t know anyone that Vergil and I both know from a long while ago. Who could it be? Our childhood friend or something?

Vergil ended his side of the demon horde, and waited till the entire group was dusted before he turned to me, producing a single, wilted flower from his pocket. I knew that flower.

It had been years ago since I placed it there. I was surprised it was even intact. Had it not decomposed?

“I took it back that day. Nurtured it. But it died the day the portals began to appear. It means only one thing. We have to visit him.” Vergil explained, and though he seemed to be speaking in crypts, I knew exactly who he was referring to.

Our brother.

I grinned and nodded.