A/N ~ A Devil's Fantasy is a cross-over between the popular game series Final Fantasy (more specifically, number VII) and the Devil May Cry series. This specific FanFiction takes place just after Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus, and just after Devil May Cry 3.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own either the Final Fantasy series, or the Devil May Cry series. All original creations belong to their owners; Final Fantasy to Square Enix and Devil May Cry to CAPcom.

PROLOGUE

The glint of moonlight reflected off the bullet shot from the blackened gun. Twisting a hand, the wielder of the black gun angled another gun the exact opposite design in another direction and twitched his finger. A loud pop was heard as another bullet flew from the barrel spinning rapidly as it flew to its target. The wielder of both guns smiled and jumped into the air, twisting his devious body and began to spin rapidly in the air, as to which he continuously fired off his two guns creating a storm effect of bullets. His hands flew to behind his back as he threw the two guns into holsters located on his back under the marvelous red to his back with his right hand, he took hold of a large weapon located on his back and swung with nearly none of his might, causing another to burst into sand.

To demons, sand was a medium between hell and earth. Of course, these specific demons were basic -- netherwrold jailors. Seven types. Seven netherworld jailor 'breeds,' as one might say... Pride. Envy. Wrath. Sloth. Greed. Gluttony. Lust. The seven hells of the demon army--one for each of the seven deadly sins. The man stood up, a smirk on his face. Whipping his sword around, he placed it back on his back and walked off as though nothing had happened. Letting his head fall back, his quick hands took hold of his gun and shot a single bullet upwards, placing the gun back in its holster. Sand fell from the sky.

Kicking the door open the silver-haired devil boy walked into the building clearly labeled as 'Devil May Cry.' He sat down and bent over to pick up a piece of pizza--taking hold of it, he brought it up to his mouth and got ready to bite down... RING!~ Surprised, he cocked his head back into place, ramming it into the piece of pizza.

"Son of a bitch..." the man spoke as he wiped his face clean. Throwing his foot up he kicked the desk flinging the phone into the air and into his hand. Bringing it over to his mouth, he spoke in an easily interpreted voice: pissed. "What the hell do you want?"

"Dante, right? Son of Sparda?" Dante was too irate to realize yet another person had known he was Sparda's son.

"What of it?" He was definitely pissed.

"Your reputation preceeds you; arrogant... a fool. Regardless, if you want your precious Mary back, you're going to have to come and get her." Dante's eyes opened wide, confused to two things: one, who the hell could kidnap Lady without her fighting back-she'd rather get killed then be kidnapped-and two, whoever kidnapped her... how did they know her real name?

"Tch... and you are?"

"If I said a friend, I'd be lying."

Silence was exchanged between the two people. Dante was pissed beyond natural human abilities, and the person on the other side of the conversation was respecting the silence... treating it almost as a time of thought.

"Alright," spoke the man in the red coat. "Tell me where to go."

"Haha... I knew you'd see things my way." The extremely creepy voice spoke in an almost estatic manner. "You are to go to the Temen-ni-gru's top floor and kill the strange man waiting there. You will recognize him by his glowing green eyes."

Dante inhaled deeply, held his breath for a few seconds, then exhaled sharply. "And if this task is completed, where can I expect to finally find Lady?"

"You treat her with such disrespect, I'm surprised she hasn't left you." The man was dead serious. It was obvious this wasn't intended as a joke. At all.

"We're not a couple, her and I." Dante said, finally standing up.

"Well, Dante? Are you going to do it?"

"..." More silence. Again, the mysterious voice considered this a time of thought... and this time, it was. "Very well. When will he be there?"

"One week. Exactly."

"And Lady will be where?"

"At Devil May Cry... right where you are now. Except, she won't be standing."

"What, bind her to the chair and tie her up so she can't escape to come help me?"

"Hahahahah!!! You should really consider doing stand-up comedy, Dante." The voice hung up his phone.

"Tch..." Dante flung the phone down to the base and picked up another piece of pizza. "I wonder what he meant..."

Breaks of reality spread everywhere. Sand poured in from the netherworld as demons came from nowhere, impaling Dante in his chest, back, arms and legs. Everywhere but his head.

"Son of a..." he spoke as he shot off his guns at one of their heads.