Chapter One

Eye Of The Storm

Devil May Cry office, Metropolis, USA

8:24 PM

A slight creak came from the wooden door as he opened it, revealing the way into a rather disheveled office. There were a couple of empty pizza boxes on the floor, some demon skulls hanging on the wall, and numerous posters and magazines filled with pictures of scantily-clad women. It had been a relatively quiet weekend for Dante, as nobody had called on him to deal with some other demon problem. He sort of liked it this way, after spending the week chasing down cannon fodder. It was a demanding job, and he never knew when he'd get another call. Not that he minded or anything; the jobs paid very well most of the time and the fights were always exciting. That was the reason, above any other, that Dante fought like he did. Nothing was more exhilarating than a fight with a demon who could potentially kill him. Today, though, it was time to chill out. It was, to Dante, his day off.

The devil hunter kicked up his feet onto his desk, careful to avoid knocking over the portrait of his mother that he kept on his desk. Eva, Dante's mother, was a beautiful young woman, with a glimmer of hopeful, nurturing wisdom in her eyes. She was the human half of the parentage of the half-devil Sons of Sparda, and rightly so. Only a woman as graceful and nurturing as her could have been fit to be the mate of the Legendary Dark Knight. Her portrait, and the amulet around his neck, were the last vestiges of her life that Dante had. It was his love for his mother that drove Dante to do what he did. It would eventually, one day, culminate into Dante fighting Mundus, the demon king who had a hand in his mother's death. His thoughts now would drift to his twin brother, Vergil. The same brother who, three years ago, plunged into the Demon World, apparently to fight Mundus himself. Vergil still had not returned. It was the moment of parting that set off the events which would inspire Dante to name his establishment.

As if to break him from that thought, the door of his office swung open. There in front of him stood a strange individual, a man seemingly in his late twenties. He stood about the same height as Dante, and was clothed in the clean black garb of a Catholic priest, complete with a clerical collar. The skin that was shown, that of his face and hands, was a milky pale, in contrast to Dante's healthy, slightly tanned, complexion. It wasn't a sickly pale at all, though, more like the pale of someone who came from northern Europe. Enhancing this alabaster was a shoulder-length cascade of dark hair, secured tightly in the back, at the nape of the priest's neck, in a ponytail. The most memorable detail of the man was his face. Narrow eyes with hazel-green irises highlighted the minister's mien, giving way to a slightly pointed, sharp nose, and thin, pale lips which sat above a pointed chin and weak jaw.

Dante gave the man a raised brow in response to his appearance and peered over his desk at the priest. "...Well, well, what do we have here? Man of the cloth or somethin'. You got business?"

"Yes, in fact, I do," came the reply of the priest. It was a firm reply, but he had an oddly gentle voice and his lips were bent into a rather clever smirk. The voice itself bore a distinct French accent. "Am I correct in assuming your name is Dante?"

"The one and only," The devil hunter responded, the ever-present cocky smirk across his lips. Sweet, the devil hunter thought, If this guy's a priest, the job's bound to be good. I've never had a guy from the Church ask me for help.

The priest bowed in a rather aristocratic manner, his arm bent before him at his chest. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Fils du Sparda. My name is Dimitri Lenoir." It was clear from the priest, Dimitri's, mannerisms that he was foreign. He seemed amicable and trustworthy, however. After his bow of greeting, he extended his hand.

Dante extended his own, shaking that of the priest. For such a gentle-looking man, Dimitri had a rather firm grip. There was something strange about him, and Dante could feel it. This is odd...I practically smell the demon coming off this guy. I guess he's wearing some kind of cologne. Eau-de-Diable or something. Either that, or it's just because he's French. Heh...Eau-de-Diable. I gotta remember that. It's funny. Dante could also perceive, from the priest's appearance, that he was rather wealthy for a seemingly simple man of the cloth. Dimitri was quite a well-groomed man, appearances kept in check. Even his priest's garb, which was supposed to be, according to protocol, a rather humble garment, was quite opulent-looking. It was made of an exquisite weave of black, with silver accents on the buttons. The tab collar was clearly made of fine white silk. The half-devil's attention would next be caught by the priest's mode of transportation: a Porsche sports car. If this clergyman could afford a car of that prestige, he was definitely apt to pay a grand sum for any work Dante could do. Stepping out from behind his desk, the devil hunter casually slid a thumb into the pocket of his red leather pants and a smirk traced his lips. "So, what brings you here, Reverend?" he inquired, always ready to tackle any challenge.

The priest clasped his hands at his waist, his hazel eyes peering over the rims of his thin glasses. "Well, Monsieur Dante, I would like you to act in alliance with another demon hunter I have chartered. The last I saw of her, she was fighting a large band of demons alone near a place called 'Ave Maria'."

Dante listened carefully to the priest's job offer, but he was about to refuse when he mentioned acting in alliance with someone. Dante didn't take kindly to working with others. At least, not until he heard "her." He was going to be working with a woman. Of course, when it came to Dante's mind, nothing got his attention more than money or women. Oh man. This is too good. A filthy rich priest walks in here and tells me to help a lady in distress. Can this get any better? "Hey, Father, what does this lady look like?" I hope she's hot, Dante thought. That'll make this job even better for the taking.

Dimitri proceeded to rummage through the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out a small photograph, apparently of the woman. She had a square face, with a strong jaw and chin, and high cheekbones. She looked Caucasian in origin, as could be told by her white skin tone. Her hair was a dusty brown and pulled back into a braid that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes were a hazy green, and her expression seemed not to be carved into warm flesh, but into cold stone. She bore a rather unsettling, hard look in her eyes.

However, by Dante's judgment the woman was quite the catch. Almost without hesitation, Dante took the picture from the priest and a smirk traced his lips as he thought about its subject. "Alright, Rev. You got yourself a deal. You come along and keep watch, I'll do the rest."

Not at all surprised at the devil hunter's reaction, a gentle nod came from the priest and he held out his hand once again, Dante shaking it. "I knew you were the right man for the job, Monsieur Dante." He exited the establishment with the half-devil. "We will be taking my car to the location, if that is alright."

He's givin' me a ride in that fancy car? Man, this day just keeps getting better and better! Now all I need to do is find this chick, save her, get my check and take her out on the town. This is my lucky day. With the image of the woman on his mind, Dante took hold of his pistols and holstered them, as well as making sure to bring Rebellion, his sword, with him. As a sort of afterthought, he ran his hands through his hair, examining himself in Dimitri's side mirror. "Alright...We're good to go." He vaulted the side of the convertible, landing squarely in the passenger's seat. The priest took a running jump from the sidewalk and didn't even vault the side. He leapt into the driver's side, starting the car. Dante didn't waste the moment. "This is a damn sweet ride for a priest." The half-devil adjusted his seat, his trademark cocky smirk upon his lips once again.

Outside Ave Maria office

8:49 PM

A neon sign was lit above the door of the building, the words "Ave Maria" lit in green neon lights marking the location, with angel wings, also in neon, spread behind them. A small band of demons had gathered near the building, apparently assailing a young woman. The woman seemed to be able to fight on her own, wielding a white-handled katana as her only weapon. Even with several cuts in her body from their claws, she still fought like she didn't have so much as a scratch. Several slashes of the katana later, two of the demons in the band of about fifteen fell. The woman backed up against the wall of the establishment, cornered by the demon gang. Bullets of perspiration dripped down her temples as her hands, wrapped in fingerless black gloves, tightened around the handle of her blade. "Alright..." she growled under her breath. "Come and get some!" she yelled toward the demons, her voice carrying a distinct Australian accent under it. Several demons took up the challenge, only to receive a wave of energy from the woman's blade. "Deipara!" she cried out, taking out three or four more demons. Another wave attacked her, one snatching at the rosary beads around her neck. It screeched at her, the waves piercing her hearing and nearly paralyzing her, upon which the demon stood over her, its large foot, thickly clawed like a raptor's talon, prepared to cut her to death.

The demon let out a screech of pain, pulling away from her. Gunshots were heard at the same time, their sound heralding the arrival of a stranger in red. He twirled his guns in both hands, one black, one white, Ebony and Ivory. The owner of the guns stood there, both the firearms in his hands pointed up to the throng of demons. The crisp evening wind blew through his silver hair and his crimson coat as he leapt into the air, spinning like a top as he rained shots down upon some demons that were further from the woman, minding her position so he would not hurt her.

She quickly got back to her feet, driving her katana into a demon's neck and twisting it, decapitating the beast. When the last of the accosting demons was killed, her gaze fell upon the man in red. "...Who the hell are you?" she inquired, a defiant look in her green eyes. She kept her katana at the ready, not caring that this man saved her life.

He responded with a cocky laugh, sliding Ebony and Ivory into his back holsters. "Heh...You ever heard of Dante, the demon hunter from around here?"

The brown-haired woman gave a curt nod, twirling her katana and sheathing it. "Yeah, what about the guy?" From the jaded sound in her accented voice, Dante could tell that the woman was none too impressed with him or the stories about him.

He placed his hand on his chest, patting it a little. "You're lookin' at him, babe. And you should really thank me, seeing as I helped save you from being torn apart. A date would suffice as thanks," he replied with a roguish wink. "So what's your name, or can I just call ya 'Babe'?"

The look she gave him in response was not one of amusement. She was reticent to speak, but finally did, and her voice was like a knife of ice cutting through Dante's heart. "...Date? With you? You're a real gas, mate. You're funny." The chilly Australian woman gave Dante a rather glacial rebuff, turning away from him. "For future reference, if you absolutely must know...the name's Mercy."

Ouch, the devil hunter thought to himself, At least she told me her name. I didn't even think I'd get that far. Well, at least that means it's not completely out of the question. Somehow, even after the cold rejection, Dante still believed he still had a chance with her. Of course, from the thought of what that priest would pay him, any woman, even an ice queen like Mercy, wouldn't be able to resist. Damn it! That's right! My paycheck! I gotta help this babe, or I don't get one red cent! Come on, Dante...think of something! Dante coughed a bit, reaching out and placing his gloved hand on the brunette's bare shoulder. "Hey now, wait a minute there. I was sent here by a guy who knows you. And he wants me to make sure you get through whatever it is you're doing all right."

The demon hunter turned her head, grabbing hold of Dante's hand and moving it off her shoulder. "...Who is this...guy? Everyone who I've worked with knows I hate working with others." Her voice was still frigid, her disposition still forbidding.

Come on, babe...you're killin' me here! Not about to give up that quickly, he decided to reveal to her the name of his client. "His name's Dimitri. About as tall as me, long black hair, wears glasses, drives a Porsche...Ring any bells yet?" From the look on her face which turned from a frosty glare to a look of slight interest, Dante could tell the acquaintance was mutual. "Friend of yours or somethin'?" he asked, idly twirling Ebony in his hand.

Mercy didn't make eye contact with Dante yet, but kept her hand lightly resting on her hip. "Yeah. I know him. But if he's so worried about me, why didn't he come himself instead of hiring you as his errand boy?"

Ouch again. This one's feisty, Dante. Just play it cool. All I've gotta do is win her over, get on her good side, help the lady out, get my reward...Jackpot. Dante urged himself to focus on the job at hand, reminding himself he wasn't going to get anywhere if this girl didn't let him work with her. He had to think of a reason why Dimitri would choose to send him, rather than do it himself. Finally, he came to what, in his mind, was a logical explanation. "Well...I offered to do it. Couldn't help but do so when a lady's in trouble. It's just...who I am, babe."

The brunette's cold green eyes made their way to meeting Dante's, a marked silence filling the air for a couple of seconds.

"Hey Casanova! Why don't ya focus on what's around ya instead of tryin' to flirt with me?" Mercy's voice was loud, but she directed Dante's eyes to a horde of demons descending on them from the rooftop of Ave Maria.

Oh. Damn, I forgot about that. Ah, well. "Let's rock!" It was second nature at this point for him, having done this as far back as he could remember. Dante drew his guns lightning-quick, dropping to the ground and rolling over to dodge an arrow flung from a demonic bow above. "Heh. Shoulda known they weren't gonna be done with us just like that. So how about it, babe? Wanna dance?" he inquired of Mercy as he rose to his feet, his back to her.

Her pale lips curled into a lopsided smirk, her hand reaching behind her back and drawing the katana from her sheath. She soon had her back loosely pressed against Dante's, the tightly-braided rope of chestnut-colored hair resting along her lithe shoulder. "Takes two to tango, mate," she declared, tightening her gloved hands around the hilt of the blade in their grasp. With this affirmation, she took a fighting stance, briefly stomping the ground to get herself ready. "Alright. Let's go." she spoke a cue, dashing off into the fray, katana raised.

Two demons had their arrows aimed at Mercy from behind, however Dante's eye was sharp enough to catch them. "Hey! Babe! You got company at 5 high!" he called to her in warning, before turning to a band of smaller demons on the ground. Taking Rebellion from its position on his back, he rushed forward and stabbed into one of them, rapidly hitting it several times with the tip of the blade. "Break down!" His final strike knocked the demon onto its back, where he finished it off with a well-placed shot from Ebony.

Mercy gave her fellow devil hunter a brief glance, secretly impressed with his moves. Not sparing time for distractions, she curled her fingertips tightly around the grip of her pistol. She turned her glance away from the demons on the roof, giving them the visual cue that her guard was down and she was fair game.

With arrows drawn, the two Enigmas prepared to snipe the huntress. Their eyes flashed, giving each other the signal, and they fired both arrows at once. The arrows flew fast as lightning, reaching mere inches from Mercy's back before she twisted around, dropping to the ground and letting the arrows sail over her head, picking off two cannon-fodder demons Dante was in the process of gunning down.

"That's it...you pikers wanna dance?" Her gloved right hand moved behind her back, drawing her katana. "Then let's dance! Better hope ya can keep up!" She drew her katana up and dashed with blinding speed at one of the demons that had come down to attack her at short range. This would be a fatal mistake, as no sooner had the demon rushed Mercy than her katana found its way into the demon's chest.

Dante was involved in a one-on-four match with a set of rather strong demons with long, menacing swords for arms. They had managed to actually become a challenge for him to take on all at once. Three of them approached him, their arms up ready to attempt to skewer him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fourth sneaking up on Mercy from behind. Thrashing through the trio surrounding him with Ebony in one hand and Ivory in the other, he prepared himself to attack the Hell Vanguard that was preparing to lance the huntress. He squeezed the triggers in quick succession, burying a pair of bullets from Ebony and Ivory into the demon's back. It screeched in pain, nearly dropping its lance. Dante seized the moment and prepared to attack.

A sudden fireball flashed through the air, striking the scythe-wielding demon head-on. It let out a shrill scream before the fireball burst into a firestorm and engulfed the demon, reducing it to ash. Dante had shielded his eyes from the flash of fire, and he was left wondering where the strange blast came from. Tilting his head to the side, he stared off into the distance. There were, fortunately, none left of the small group of demons who menaced the Ave Maria. However, he could see something in the distance approaching him and Mercy.

His keen demon eyesight could see that a figure was standing several yards away, and he caught the glint of a blade under the flickering streetlight. Keeping Ebony and Ivory at the ready, he dashed forward and rushed at the figure. "If you're here to hurt Mercy, you'll have to come through me first, bud." Both of his guns were raised and pointed at the figure, but the stranger didn't so much as flinch.

"Trigger-happy, ain't ye?" The voice of the figure was heard next, with a marked Scottish accent. It was gruff, deep in pitch, but distinctly female. Upon the mention of Mercy's name, the woman advanced and Dante could clearly make out some features on her face. She had bronzed skin, her cheekbones high and her jaw bearing a clearly chiseled triangular shape, much like a triangle with one point cut off at her chin. Her nose was broad, but unusually sharp and her eyes were wide-set and had a dark copper color to them. Her hair was dark and twisted into tight dreadlocks, tinged ruby red at the tips. As she approached, Dante could see that she was taller than he was by some margin. He was an even six feet tall, and the black woman had to be at least 6'3''. He caught her full lips parting slightly, displaying the gleam of her teeth in a sort of lopsided grin. "Ya know Merce, eh?" Her gruff, accented voice could be heard again, this time speaking directly to Dante. He could see her posture now; She had a sort of lazy slouch in her walk, a large sword strapped to her back not unlike his own Rebellion. She didn't seem malicious at all, so he decided to respond.

His cocky air making its way to the surface, he twirled Ivory on his finger before sliding it into one of his back holsters. "Yeah. We just met." Dante took a cool stroll toward the woman, sizing her up with his eyes. She was clad in a set of slightly baggy red pants, a tight, midriff-baring black halter, and most notably a set of heavy black combat boots. Her arms were considerably muscled, as if she did heavy lifting on a regular basis. A slight cringe came to the devil hunter as a thought ran through his mind. Who is this woman? If I was a normal guy I swear she could take my head off with one punch. Heh heh...Lucky for me, I'm no normal guy. Keeping his ever-present cocky demeanor, he approached her with his lazy, strolling gait, showing he wasn't a threat. "So...what's your name, babe?"

"Name's Lawrence Forsyth. Me mates call me Lori."

Lori, huh? Dante gave a chuckle and looked up as he noticed Mercy approaching the group after finishing off the last of the demons. Dante was able to notice something odd about the black woman, Lori. She's a demon too, and a damn strong one at that. Even I might get a run for my money with this one. He could see a smirk fall across Mercy's lips as she saw Lori.

"Hey!" She gave a yell from behind, running toward the tall black woman, her left palm slapping into Lori's. It was clear the two not only knew each other, they were friends.

Feeling no need to keep up his guard, Dante slid Ebony into his holster and looked toward Lori, a cool smirk on his lips. "So...you ever heard of a guy named Dante?" He seemed to have a habit of asking that lately, but he got a much more open response from Lori.

"Aye, I think I've heard of the bloke. Ain't he that one, that...demon hunter guy?"

Dante's smirk grew wider, and he seemed impressed. "Heh, yeah. That's him." He looked rather proud of himself, especially that someone knew who he was. This wasn't such a bad day after all. It was then that he heard the gloved knuckles of the black woman being cracked.

"Oi, if you see the bloke an' he's got some free time, tell 'im the barkeep from the Checkmate night club wants a square go."

The hell's a square go? Must be Scot-speak or somethin'. Dante found himself struggling to make sense of the strange argot used by the woman with the Scottish accent. He gave a glance to Mercy, who was leaning on the wall of the Ave Maria with her head tilted. "Uh...Merce, what's a square go?" he muttered in her direction.

"Means she wants to fight."

Oh, Dante thought. Heh, shoulda known. "Wait...why would she wanna fight me?" he asked out loud, not knowing Lori was standing a few feet away.

"...So. You're the famous Dante, eh?" She clapped him on the shoulder with her powerful hand, the force of which nearly threw him off balance. It was a friendly gesture, but nearly knocked Dante onto his face.

"Whoa!" Dante flailed for a moment to regain his balance, almost glaring at Lori. "Hey, watch it!"

The black woman laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. "Heh...guess I dunno my own strength."

Mercy, during this encounter, was just leaning on a wall while Dante and Lori spoke to one another. "Lori, when you're done goofing off..." she chided, almost grumbling at her comrade.

Lori slumped, her shoulders sinking as she scratched the back of her head. "Oh, alright already. Don't get yer knickers in a knot."

Mercy looked up from her position on the wall, making eye contact with Lori as she approached her. "So, where ya headed?" she inquired, keeping her arms crossed as she walked.

Lori folded her arms behind her head, lazily ambling down the block. "Headin' down to the Checkmate."

The name of the "Checkmate" establishment, whatever it was, seemed to ring a bell in Dante's head. "Checkmate...Ain't that the new club down the street from here?" he inquired curiously.

"Yup, that'd be it," Lori affirmed, a smirk on her lips as she continued walking, Mercy and Dante behind her.

Dante ruminated for a moment at Lori's response, his head slightly tilted in curiosity. I wonder..."Hey Lori, I've got a question."

"Shoot," Lori gave her quick reply, upon which the devil hunter gave her his inquiry.

"Do you guys serve strawberry sundaes?"

He was met with Lori's signature, slightly gruff, chuckle. "Of course we do! You name it, I've got it." Awesome! I've gotta check this place out! That reply gave Dante what he thought was a stroke of genius.

"Hey Merce," he spoke, attempting to get Mercy's attention.

She turned her head to make eye contact with him, the look of chilly ennui not leaving her eyes. "Whaddya want?" she asked in reply to Dante's address of her.

He walked a few inches closer to her, his lips curling into a slight smirk. "Since we're already on the way there, what do you say to you and me havin' a date over dinner? My treat." Brace yourself, Dante, she's gonna shoot you down again. Ah well, if at first you don't succeed.

"I don't see why not." Mercy gave her quick response without any deliberation. "You did give me a hand after all."

Dante acted like he expected an affirmative, but in reality he was quite surprised. Whoa. Is she for real? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, dude. You got the babe, now what do you think you're gonna do with her? The devil hunter looked toward Mercy, the ever-present cocky grin spread across his lips. He took her hand, and looked up to Lori, who was walking ahead of them. "So, care to lead the way?"

She turned her head back toward him, her tightly-woven dreadlocks gathering behind her ear. "Aye. It's a few blocks away but you two seem like you'll make it." Dante responded with a smirk and a nod, walking with Mercy to catch up with Lori.

They suddenly heard a strange growling sound, which prompted Mercy to draw her sword and take a fighting stance. Dante looked around and listened for a moment, before realizing just what was making that sound. He motioned to Mercy to calm down.

"Relax, Merce. I'm just a little hungry." He slid a hand over his stomach, the source of the unearthly rumbling.

The Australian demon hunter gave a slight chuckle, and looked to Dante. "In that case, let's get goin'. Whatever craving you got, Lori can take care of ya." She turned to walk down the street, following Lori as she led them to their destination.

From a rooftop far above them, set of golden eyes peered down through the darkness and settled upon the trio as they passed by on the streets below. "So, brother...you're enlisting his help," he spoke in a slow whisper, to no one in particular. "I didn't think you would be that desperate." The pair of eyes belonged only to a shadow, lurking in the darkness of the night and observing Dante much like a hawk observing its potential prey. "In any case...prepare yourself, Son of Sparda. This," he continued, "is only the beginning." A foreboding wind picked up from the top of the building, blowing through the figure's dark hair. A smirk traced across his thin, livid lips, which parted into a savage rictus. "Mm. for now, though, I'll let you be." The figure continued staring at Dante and the others, watching them until Dante disappeared into the Checkmate.

Another pair of eyes, also golden, peered down from the rooftop of the Ave Maria. "The dice have been cast. Dear Alice, do not let yourself grow too calm. This is only the eye of the storm."