In celebration on the newest Devil May Cry game I'm goanna start on a story I've wanted to make for a few years now with the main character of Nero and the anarchy sister Stocking Anarchy. Kinda obvious I got a soft spot for Stocking right? Any way's time to get this show on the road haven't written a story in a while so take pity on this poor fool.

Chapter 0: Birth of the Devil Trigger

Flame…. That was all I could see. I held him with blood covering my entire body while tears streamed down my face. This was a moment of despair and one that would shape my entire future.

"Hehehehe! I can feel it! True hatred! Hold onto that feeling boy! Let it make you stronger! Let it fester and boil within your soul and then come and hunt me down."

A booming voice that echoed through the plains. Pain in my right arm that threatened to send me into a fever. Hate…. Hate encompassed me as I turned my burning gaze to the beast before me.

"Yes! That's it boy! Let the hatred grow! To celebrate this day, I give you a gift! Let it serve you on your hunt for revenge!"

Pain… Clouded my vision. As a burning sensation seared my body. I tried to scream but there was no sound only a squeak as I began to feel my consciousness begin to fade. The last thing I saw was the beast giving a grizzly smirk as the flames danced across the destruction it's wake. Then nothing…

17 years later….

Among the busy market place of colony 15 a man walked in a drunken haze through crowds of equally hazy creatures. Not many need a reason to drink for this man especially. He lost his wife 3 years ago due to illness and in the past month alone he lost his son due to the mafia. A man distraught with despair.

He wandered through the streets until eventually he found himself in an abandoned district. He walked and walked until he came upon the charred remains of what appeared to be a church. In front of the church a memorial plaque with hundreds of names written on it.

"Heh? Wh-Wha is diz?" He stammered as he stumbled around the plaque only to see a make shift grave with fresh flowers placed in front of burnt wooden cross. It looked as if it was part of church at one point but was torn off.

"Hey! Quit loitering around here!" A voice shouted from behind the drunken man.

"Heh!?" The man said in an annoyed tone as he turned to meet the one who would dare tell him what to do only to suddenly feel his brain begin to sober as realized who stood before him.

The Man wore a long navy blue and red coat with The Order of the Sword's insignia sewn into both shoulders. He also wore a red zip-up hoodie/vest underneath this coat, a navy muscle-shirt beneath that, and a pair of dark blue pants. On his back was a massive sword and, on his side, an even more massive fire arm. But easily his most defined feature was his pure white hair that almost seemed to glow in the night sky.

"This isn't a place for drunken jackasses like you to piss on, so beat it!" He demanded as the drunkard quickly ran from the site.

"So, Nero the Crimson Hunter, scares off another lost soul from the church." An elderly woman said as she walked towards the man.

"Sister…...Glad to see you in good health." He said in a lost tone as he stared at the make shift grave, memories flooding his mind.

"Can't believe it's been 17 years since that dreadful day. Kyrie stopped by a few hours ago for mast where were you?"

"Busy…...Besides you know I hate sitting around listening to you preach. Got enough of that when we were kids." He said scratching his head as he remembered the sisters constant nagging.

The two of them stared at the grave as the night persisted. The sister had known Nero for many years and knows all to well his endless hatred for this place.

After a few more moments of silence Nero reached inside his pocket and placed a single bullet on the memorial stone.

"I take it you've found a lead then? You know as a woman of the cloth I can't advise the path of bloodshed." She said as she rubbed her hands across the old burn scars from that dreadful day.

"Good because you don't have to. I made my mind up the day that monster took my arm." Nero said as he lifted his right arm covered in a thick white cast.

"And replaced it with this."

The sister looked at the man with sorrow. Never had she seen a more lost soul than his but at the same time she couldn't stop herself from feeling the same way. That day 17 years ago she lost her church, her mentor, her children, and her innocence.

"Soon Credo…. You will be able to rest in peace, so just wait a little while longer brother." Nero whispered as he turned and began to walk away.

"Stay safe sister and make sure those drunkard's stay away from this place!" He shouted as he waved to the sister who could only watch as the young man walked off.

As Nero got further and further away from the church he felt his right arm begin to burn. He scanned the area and soon recognized what was wrong.

"You can come out now! You really suck at keeping your blood lust in check." He chuckled as the drunk man slumped out of the shadows with a few thugs to back him up.

"Nero the Crimson Hunter! I HoPE YoUr rEAdY!" The man said as his skin began to bubble and peel as a lumbering group of monsters peeled off their fake skin.

Nero smirked as he grabbed his sword. With a single twist the blade roared to life as he prepared himself. At this moment he felt alive and then with a final roar of the engine he leapt towards them with crooked smile.

"BRING IT ON!"

This is the beginning of a long journey of the broken hunter. What drives him is hatred for those that have fallen and for that what has been taken. His past a mystery and his future a blank slate. The hunter serge's forward only to meet someone that will change his fate.