Disclaimer: You want a disclaimer? Sorry, no disclaimer for you.
AN: Ere we begin, this story is another one of Blackmoon's fine creations, so all kudos and accolades should be directed to him. (As I had absolutely nothing to do with this aside from the actual act of posting it.) Also, this story can be considered an unofficial sequel to Diabolus Irae. Reading DI is not required to understand this, but it wouldn't hurt you to do so anyway. (Hint hint...) That said, enjoy.
Chapter 1: Caliga Seditio
You've heard of it, haven't you?
The legend of Sparda?
Long ago, in ancient times, a demon rebelled against his own kind for the sake of the human race. With his sword, he shut the portal to the Demonic Realm, and sealed the evil entities off from our Human World. But since he was a demon himself, his power was also trapped on the other side.
This so-called legend wasn't a myth at all.
Sparda existed.
Ever since he had sealed away the demons, he lived with the mortals in the Human World. With his power sealed away, he looked like a regular man at first glance, if an eccentric one. He was strikingly handsome, his hair white like the moon. He carried with him an air of nobility and grace, largely stemming from his habit of wearing a monocle wherever he went; most regarded him as unusual, but none suspected his demonic heritage. After all, the kindly Sparda was a fine, upstanding member of the community, and was always willing to help those in need. Why, he even had a wife, and two sons of his own...
Sparda grabbed his twin guns, Luce and Ombra, and walked to the front door. "Eva," he called out across the villa, "I'm going out on some business. I should be back before tomorrow night." He didn't hear a response, but this was fairly standard; his human lover was never fond of these 'missions' he would go out on, but Sparda's sense of duty was too great to keep him at home in these situations. To be fair, Sparda's so-called 'missions' were of grave importance- whenever he left, he did so in order to put an end to some upstart demon-worshipping cult, or a group of misguided humans who thought the beasts of the Demonic Realm could grant them power. Though the Demon World was locked away over 2000 years ago, humans never stopped lusting for power- and the devils never stopped offering it to them.
He shook his head, and grabbed his now-signature purple duster from the coat rack. "Humans... why do they expect anything from the demons but suffering and death?" With heavy heart, he opened the door, and stepped out into the cold night.
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An hour later, and he was there, at an abandoned chapel on the far outskirts of town. There had been word lately of some minor cult absconding with cattle in the night and sacrificing them to some dark "god". If Sparda knew any better, it was more likely a devil, and probably one he had personally known. These sorts of sects were, on the whole, ill-informed; this night would go down like any other.
With dramatic flair, Sparda kicked open the great door of the chapel, the splintering wood echoing throughout the vaulted chamber. A circle of black-robed men around a bloody sacrifice jumped in shock as they turned to face the door, through which this curious purple-clad man was striding, gun in hand. "What in the hell--!?" one shouted.
"Got it right on the first guess," Sparda replied calmly, and opened fire. He never enjoyed killing humans, no, but at the prospect of attracting the attention of a major demon, or worse, weakening the barrier between worlds, it was for the greater good. It wasn't long before they were all on the ground, most dead, the rest dying. As he was leaving, though, a complication arose...
From behind him, Sparda heard a maddened laughter. He turned on heel towards the altar, and saw a tall man in a robe like the others, who Sparda was sure was not there a minute ago- it was as though he appeared out of thin air. This man was clearly human, and yet he seemed to have traces of a demonic aura. 'Could it be', wondered Sparda, 'that this one actually made a pact with the demons?'
"You're too late, Sparda. The ritual is done."
Sparda raised an eyebrow and asked, "What are you talking about...?"
"It was no cow they slaughtered for their rite this time, no," spoke the man as he gestured towards the grisly sacrifice on the altar. "This night, it was a young woman... a priestess. We know of one demon who needed that to break through the barrier... and he's bringing some friends, I hear."
The devil furrowed his brow and raised his gun to the cultist, and suddenly, the room started to tremble and shake. The air seemed to solidify before the altar, and cracks appeared across it, like glass; the barrier was beginning to weaken. Something was coming through. The cultist chuckled and grinned maliciously. "I think you knew him. His name is Surgat, Who Opens All Locks..."
Sparda quickly removed his other pistol, and the gateway shattered. There was a brief glimpse into the Demonic Realm, in all its twisted glory, when something stepped through- or to be more precise, four somethings. One was a pale man, in ornate, jet-black armor, carrying a curious staff topped with an eight-pointed star. The second was a taller man, gaunt and dark-haired, in a cloak emblazoned with the symbol of the Ankh; his eyes were sunken and grim, and at his side were a pair of gleaming silver blades. The third was no doubt the devil Yla, son of Mundus; he had the fair skin and blonde hair of his father, and bore a long cape, with a steel cuirass and matching pauldrons. The last to come through was black-haired and sported a goatee, wearing something resembling a priest's cassock in black and red.
The human cultist quickly kneeled before the four devils as the gateway sealed behind them. They inspected the world they had been summoned to, and the half-demon bodies they now inhabited. The fact that they were in these forms at all brought some relief to Sparda; it meant that the barrier was still largely intact, and the greater portion of their power was sealed away like Sparda's.
The fourth demon to come through- evidently, now, the leader- spoke:
"Surgat. Why is our power still on the other side?"
The first demon, Surgat, replied, "It is because the barrier is intact. If we wish to truly destroy Sparda's work, then we must find his Temen-Ni-Gru."
Sparda cocked his guns and aimed them at the group. "I'm sorry. I've grown a little fond of that tower- I don't intend to let you bring it down."
The leader scoffed. "I don't think you have any say in this, Sparda. Yla."
"As you wish, Bael," said Yla, his voice dripping with resentment, and held out his hand. A maelstrom of wind was unleashed, hurling Sparda against the far wall of the chapel and wrenching the pistols from his hands. Bael shouted over the rushing winds, "We've been watching you from the Demon World, Sparda. We're tired of being trapped there- it's been two thousand years, and we are going to end it. You will stay out of it if you know what's good for you."
Sparda's face contorted in rage, and in a burst of fiery-orange energy, he unleashed his full demonic powers. His skin turned black as the night, massive horns emerged from his head, and wings grew from his back. And even with the heavy ebony armor he wore in this form, he managed to leap through the rushing winds to the center of the chapel and wrap his clawed right hand around Bael's throat.
"Now, now, Sparda," Bael said, as though he were in no danger at all, "you must learn some restraint. Remember, Surgat is Surgat Who Opens All Locks- he was the one that opened the door to this realm for us, and he can bring more."
On cue, Surgat raised his staff overhead, and it glowed with a purple light. The effect of shattering glass occurred once more, and a pair of robed, walking skeletons armed with scythes- Pride Hellkeepers- burst through from the Demonic Realm.
"You see," Bael continued, "it's his specialty. And if you interfere with our mission again... well, your dear family will become very familiar with Surgat's powers, very quickly. Do you understand?"
Sparda loosened his grip, and reverted to his half-demon form. He carried an expression of both terror, and mute anger. He turned from the Four, and began walking away. With a deep sigh, Sparda retrieved his guns, and said, "I understand. Please... don't hurt them." Bael smirked, and turned towards the human cultist who had started it all.
"I must thank you for... aiding in our escape from that place," he said. "I'm sure you recall our agreement... you complete the ritual, and we make you into a demon..." The cultist nodded eagerly, vigorously. Bael turned his back to the cultist and looked the sword-bearing devil in the eye. "Well, I regret to inform you that the deal has been called off. Yeter'El, please do the honors."
"What!? But I--!" stammered the cultist, and without expression, Yeter'El stepped forward and drove one of the swords through the man's throat.
"Our business is done here," muttered Bael, and gestured for the others to follow him. The four devils (and the two Hellkeepers in tow) left the chapel, to head for the Temen-Ni-Gru. Sparda sunk down into one of the pews as they left, and buried his head in his hands. He stayed there for several hours, and said only one thing before he finally left:
"God... what have I done?"