Yup, I'm back. Even though I was determined not to write any more DMC stories, I changed my mind. I'm doing one final story, as a tribute to classic DMC. This is technically a sequel to my last two fics, Birthday Bash and Sweet Dreams. It will use elements from both of those, so you might want to read them first. Despite featuring Patty as the main character of sorts, this story will in fact be an all star cast, and will involve just about every major DMC character in the series. Anyway, here's the first chapter. Updates will be pretty random I'm afraid, as I have several other things I'm working on as well. This story probably won't contain any pairings, unless one surprises me later on, in which case I'll say so. So, err, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!
DMC: Showtime
Act I Chapter 1
The Legendary Dark Witch
Search: Armageddon Timeline
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Dec 2012 - New Avernus Incident
Jan 2013 - Year of Hell / Beginning of the end / 875,000 dead / New Avernus destroyed
Feb 2013 - US Military fight back
Apr 2013 - US Military destroyed / Nuclear weaponry deployed against demonic invasion
May 2013 - US Government collapses / 90 Million dead
Jul 2013 - NATO launches strategic nuclear strike against North America to contain demons despite failure of US nuclear deployment / North America reduced to radioactive wasteland / 397 Million dead
Oct 2013 - North and South American continents overrun / Europe, Africa and Australia invaded / 1.7 Billion dead
Dec 2013 - World overrun / Global national collapse / 3.5 Billion dead
Jan 2014 - New World Order / Countless dead / Environmental damage irreparable
Feb 2014 - Mass human hunts begin
Apr 2016 - 3 of 5 remaining human outposts annihilated
Oct 2020 - Last survivors of humanity gather at Fortuna
Dec 2022 - 10th anniversary of New Avernus Incident / Nightmare Omega sighted en route to Fortuna / Human extinction imminent
December 31st 2022 - Present Day
HERE LIES
DANTE
SON OF SPARDA
1975 - 2012
REQUIESCAT IN PACE
The smooth black marble of the gravestone felt cool to the touch, despite the demonic nature of the graves inhabitant. A shadowy figure in a hooded black cloak knelt before it, resting one hand against the surface of the stone, head bowed in sadness. The Sparda sword protruded from the ground beside the grave.
"I'm sorry Dante," said the figure, a woman speaking in a low voice scarcely above a whisper. "I'm not strong enough to protect what's left of humanity on my own. I need to borrow your father's sword. It's our only chance. I promise to take good care of it."
There was no answer. How could there be? The dead seldom said much. The woman sighed and stood, taking a moment to glance around at the graveyard. It was the last graveyard in use anywhere in the world, as there were so many dead now that it would take the remaining humans several lifetimes to burry everyone. And even here only a choice few had been laid to rest, several of whom the woman in black knew personally.
Trish. Lady. Morrison. Nero. Her mother was buried here as well.
What was left of her, anyway.
"We have company," said a voice. It was an odd sort of voice; somewhat metallic, as if it was coming from an old fashioned radio speaker. It belonged to a floating book clad in a silvery metal, with a bright blue pendant fixed to the front cover.
The woman snorted. "They should show a little respect for the dead." She turned and found herself surrounded by demons. Ghastly hunched creatures with saliva dripping from their jaws and the light of the full moon gleaming from wickedly sharp claws. The talking book floated beside the woman's head and spun around several times, counting the demons in the process.
"Twenty."
"Twenty one," the woman corrected.
"Oh?"
There was a flicker of movement as she drew a pistol, aimed it directly up into the air and fired. The hush of the graveyard was momentarily shattered by the gunshot. An empty casing landed on the grass at her feet, followed seconds later by a winged demon. There was a large hole in what passed for its head, at least until the entire thing turned to ash.
"Ah," said the book, taking note of the one it had missed counting. The woman in black drew a second pistol and readied them. The guns had once belonged to Dante - his fabled Ebony & Ivory - but she had taken to using them since he could no longer do so himself.
"I was hoping I'd have the opportunity to warm up before the main event. This will give me a chance to try out Sparda. You're certain I can use it without mutating into a hideous blob? I quite like my figure as it is."
"The Ascension Ceremony you underwent will allow you to resonate with Sparda's demonic power," said the book as the demons began to close in on them, "As I already explained. Twice. Try to pay attention my girl."
"Just checking," said the woman, before opening fire. The demon that was perched on Dante's gravestone behind her toppled over from the gunshot she had unleashed over her shoulder. As if this shot signalled the start of a race, every demon in the area promptly exploded into action, leaping at the cloaked figure.
Who tossed her guns into the air and snapped her fingers.
Time slowed to a crawl.
The woman casually strolled over to the Sparda sword, while over a dozen demons continued to leap at her in extreme slow motion. Hesitating only briefly, she pulled the ancient devil blade from the ground and lifted it up over her head. A bolt of reddish black lightning struck the weapon, spread across the surface of it and then enveloped its new wielder in a crimson aura of light.
"Oooh, that tingles," she said. Giving the weapon a flourish to get a feel for it, she sauntered over to a suspended demon and sliced it in half. The two halves split and started to fall to the ground, albeit slowly. As a shower of demonic ichor spilled forth the woman moved out of the path of the red spray and pointed the tip of the Sparda at another demon. Now the legendary dark knight's fabled sword transformed into a spear, punching clean through the hideous creature's torso and emerging from its back.
Again the weapon transformed. With a demon still impaled upon its length, the point of the spear slid into a curved scythe, chopping the unfortunate beast into chunks. The cloaked lady swung the scythe around in several long sweeping arcs, catching one demon after another, piling the monsters together against the blade of the devil arm. The Sparda then reverted back to its original sword-like form, dicing the gathered demons in the process.
"You missed a few," said the book. True enough five demons remained, who were only just starting to realise that their intended victim was no longer standing in front of Dante's grave.
By now the air was thick with demon blood spraying outwards in slow motion. The woman leapt into the air, her cloak becoming drenched in the revolting shower of droplets. She landed upon a demon, which was itself already in mid-air. With a flick of Sparda she decapitated the creature, then lashed out with her foot, kicking the severed head into an adjacent demon. The floating book scoffed at this.
"Oh now really, that's just showing off."
The lady somersaulted off the headless demon's back, pierced another demon with Sparda's spear form and slammed the newly impaled beast into a second demon. She then retracted Sparda back into sword form, spun around and sliced them both in half as she descended, before tossing the sword into the air using the momentum of her spin.
Time returned to normal.
What happened next takes longer to explain than the time it took to actually occur, nevertheless this is what transpired; bodies hit the ground, the blood splattered cloak the woman was wearing was cast off and draped over the floating book, several dismembered demons crashed into Dante's grave, the woman landed upon their corpses, reached up, caught Ebony & Ivory as they fell, extended them and fired, blasting the final two remaining demons point-blank range in their so-called faces, holstered the pistols, reached up and caught the falling Sparda sword, and then finally struck a flamboyant pose.
After taking all of that in, one would have the chance to get a good look at the woman, who was now no longer concealed by a hooded cloak. She was in her early to mid-twenties, with long platinum blond hair and vivid blue eyes. She was wearing a knee-length black gothic dress with bell sleeves, and had knee-length black boots on over her white thigh-length socks. Ebony & Ivory were holstered in a black harness on her lower back, and a moment later the Sparda sword slid into place just above them.
"Do you mind?" the book protested crossly, still draped in her cloak. She reached across and tugged it off, before gesturing to indicate the graveyard around them.
"I did you a favour - I stopped that shiny cover of yours from getting splattered with icky demon blood. Quit complaining."
"Patty Lowell you are simply impossible!"
Patty rolled her eyes. "You know Allen, most people don't have put up with their long-dead ancestors nagging at them from beyond the grave. But then most people don't have a sorcerer for an ancestor who magically bound their spirit to a grimoire. Way to buck the trend."
"If it weren't for my knowledge and expertise on demons and magic, you would be in one of these graves yourself young lady!"
"I still might," quipped Patty. She fell silent as that possibility hit home and her sense of humour deserted her.
Nightmare Omega was coming. The demons wanted to ring in the new year by adding humanity to the extinct list. Everyone who had ever fought Omega was dead, including Dante. What chance did she have, really? You could no more fight Omega than you could fight a supernova.
Nevertheless she had to try, or humanity would be no more.
"Come on gramps, let's get this show on the road," she said, before striding off. She paused for a moment to cast a look back at Dante's grave. The demon bodies heaped around it had all turned to ash now, which floated around the black marble stone ominously.
"Wish me luck, Dante. I'm going to need it."
