Disclamer: I do not own the rights to either Devil May Cry, the Percy Jackson series, or the Heroes of Olympus books. These belong to their respective owners.
Midnight in this area of the Bronx was dark, the occasional street light providing most of the ambient light around. It was a new moon, and the absence of the moon made it hard to see for most. Occasionally, a car might pass by, shedding a little light into the red-brick passage between buildings and streets. In this alley, a lone figure waited, sitting about a story up on a fire escape.
The figure's hair and stubble were as white as snow, but the face and figure suggested a man in his late forties. His red leather duster was faded and had a washed-out look, indicating the life and hardships it had been through. He wore an ordinary black T-shirt, black driving gloves, grey jeans, and slightly worn-out boots, giving him a grungy, somewhat homeless look. A pair of custom made handguns, one black and one white, were holstered inside of his jacket, easy to conceal when he wasn't using them but also easy to draw and fire when needed. A double-barreled shotgun was strapped to his right thigh, also easily concealable under the duster. The weirdest weapon he had in his possession, however, was the steel claymore in his back, which had a guard carved in the shape of a rib cage and an open-mouthed skull.
His grey-blue eyes looked across the alleyway, his fingers drumming against one of his knees as he waited for something. He looked like he had been sitting there for several hours, and after a few more moments, his head fell to look at the rusted metal he was sitting on as he quietly groaned. His right hand went to his jacket pocket, pulling out his work phone (which was an older model, as he never really found himself interested in all of the technological distractions that came with the newest phones) and calling one of the people on speed-dial.
"Morrison, looks like we got another no-show." He said as soon as the person on the other end picked up. His tone was slightly irritated, but cool and tired at the same time.
There was a sigh from the other end of the line, and then the deep, frustrated voice of his contact came over the line. "Shit," Morrison said, and there was a sound the man knew was his contact puffing on his cigar from the phone before he continued. "Another one? We might have to put up a 'half-pay up front' sign or a no-show policy if this keeps up, Dante."
"You're telling me." Dante sighed, pulling out his black handgun, Ebony, and spinning it on his finger as he talked on the phone. "If there's one thing I hate more than black olives on a fresh pepperoni pizza, it's-"
"-having your time wasted." Morrison finished. "I've heard it a million times. I'll tell you what, you wait there for an hour and I'll see if I can get the caller back on the line. If I can, we'll work something out, but if not, you'll just have to head back to the store."
"That's the best news I've heard in the past five hours." Dante joked, then the demon hunter sighed. "Talk to you later, Morrison."
"Good hunting, Dante," Morrison said as Dante hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. The demon hunter sighed, holstering Ebony and leaning back against the railing of the fire escape. He looked up at the night sky, drawing his claymore, Rebellion, from his back and lazily spinning it in his hands.
"You know, if I wasn't such an unlucky man, I'd wish for trouble to show up." He said to himself, resting Rebellion across his lap as he looked back down. He saw his own reflection in the demonic claymore's blade and smiled to himself as he rubbed his chin, moving his head as he admired his own reflection for a minute.
Looking back up, he saw something begin to emerge from the ground in the alleyway below him. A skeletal form emerged from the ground, hunched and coward-like as it's black-cloaked form shuffled forwards. In its hands, a large, rusted scythe was gripped, which had demonic runes etched down the blade. Dante sighed, looking at it and sheathing Rebellion on his back. "I hope you aren't it, little Caina," he muttered, smirking. "You wouldn't even be enough to get me warmed up."
Sure enough, that one Hell Caina was not everything. Several more began to emerge from the ground, and looking up, Dante could see several dark shapes that looked like ghosts flying up above the streets, towards a parking deck about a block away. "Oh, speak of the devil…" Dante muttered, then stood and flipped off of the fire escape and down into the mass of skeletal demons below.
"Woohooo!" Dante shouted, drawing Rebellion from his back and performing a Helm Breaker attack on the Hell Caina directly below him. The creature's skull was split clean in half, and most of its body gave way by the time he hit the ground. The Helm Breaker had the added effect of knocking several Hell Caina away from his flanks, giving him ample time to recover and begin to hack into the rest of them. A roar filled the crowd of demons, and they all got into battle stances, going on the defensive as he rushed them.
Rebellion slashed, stabbed, and bludgeoned as Dante made headway through the horde of Hell Caina, shouting, laughing, and cheering as he slew demons left, right, and center. He unleashed a Stinger into a condensed group, blasting them apart, and then held his sword with the grip by his eyes as red energy began to charge around the blade. "Go get 'em!" he shouted with a smile as he threw Rebellion into the group, the blade spinning and flying forwards in a straight line, never losing altitude.
Dante smirked, then slammed his fists together, sending a wave of fire flowing across his body. Once the fire settled, a pair of hell-forged spiked metal gauntlets with yellow eyes on the backs of the hands had formed on his arms, as well as a pair of spiked metal shoulder guards that looked like they had horns emerging from them fitted onto the shoulders of his jacket. On his feet were a set of metal greaves and a pair of metal boots, all designed with the same motif as the gauntlets and shoulder guards. All three pieces of armor glowed with hellfire, and as he felt the familiar heat from the armor pieces, he smirked. "Come on, Balrog!" he said, lunging for the nearest demon. "You don't want to miss out on the fun, do you?"
A flaming right hook slammed into the first demon in his path, knocking it onto the ground as Dante followed it up with a swift rabbit punch to the skull. It stopped moving, and the demon hunter turned to the next demon, delivering a hellfire-empowered uppercut straight to its jaw and soaring up into the air with it. He didn't remain in the air for long, charging fire on his fists before rocketing back to the ground and striking the concrete with explosive force. The shoulder guards vanished into ash, a pair of knee guards forming on his legs and adding to the plating on the greaves.
At some point during the punching and kicking spree that followed, Rebellion soared back to Dante, affixing itself back on Dante's back as he continued to pummel the Hell Caina surrounding him. He barely registered its return as he performed a breakdance-inspired spinning kick and spun like a top as he kicked through several Hell Caina. He spun back to his feet, performing a pair of upwards arcing kicks as he leaped into the air, which caught a trio of the skeletal demons and pulled them up with him.
He twisted in the air, then rocketed downwards with a diving kick that immolated the three demons he had taken up with him as well as several around his point of impact. As he stood, he counted a measly three or four demons left, all of which looked like they were considering surrender. Dante sighed, the hellfire-forged Balrog disappearing into ash as he drew Rebellion. "I hope you're ready!" he shouted, then lunged forwards.
A wide slash started the blade dance that followed, which was followed up by two more quick slashes which did serious damage to the remaining demons. Rebellion was spun around Dante's body twice, before the demon hunter executed several thousand stabs within the span of five seconds. Dante knew that the demons couldn't take much more from the blade, so he pulled it back, taking a step away as he flipped it into a reverse grip.
"One! Two!" he shouted, emphasizing each word with a diagonal slash, sending out a red energy slash in an X-pattern. They struck the demons, blasting them into the air into position as Dante wound up Rebellion like a baseball bat. "Finish!' he shouted, swinging the blade in a nearly 360-degree arc and bifurcating the demons with the blade and the wave of energy that followed.
"Wheew-whee!" he said, shouldering the claymore and grinning. "Nothing like fighting some low-ranking demons to get yourself warmed up!" He chuckled a little, looking around to see quite a few dozen red orbs just laying around him, spilled from the bodies of the demons. He smirked, extending a hand and absorbing all of the red orbs into himself.
He whipped out his phone, speed-dialing the same number he had before. He began to walk out of the alley, sheathing Rebellion onto his back as it was before and humming a little tune. The phone picked up once more, but instead of Morrison answering the phone, an older woman's voice answered. "Devil May Cry," she said. "What can we do for you today?"
"Hey, Trish!" Dante answered, grinning as wide as he always did. "Is Morrison there? I've got to talk to him."
"Mmmm… He's busy right now, but I can take a message." Trish said, and Dante sighed inwardly as he heard the heels of her high-heeled black boots come to rest against his desk. 'No one sits in my chair but me,' something deep and dark within him said, but he pushed it down as he spoke again.
"That sounds good." Dante said. "Tell him that if he's on the phone with the caller, he doesn't need to negotiate anymore. I've found what demons they're after, about five and a half hours after they were supposed to show up. And a lot of 'em, too."
"Alright. You probably have it covered, but if you need the help…" Trish left the offer hanging, not really needing to finish it.
"I'll be fine, Trish," Dante said, then hung up, pocketing his phone. He looked out down the empty street, to the point where the demons were congregating. He smiled, whipping out Ebony and Ivory and pulling back their hammers. "Time to go to work, guys," he said to his guns, and then raced off down the street, his hands beginning to glow a dark red as he held the guns.
Six figures watched the shadow-cloaked shapes fly further down the street, clustered tightly in the shadows to keep themselves hidden from view. All of them had various blades of bronze, gold, and other metals, but no more than two of them had anything that could hope to hit the creatures from this range. No, they were watching, waiting to report back what they had seen to the higher-ups back at their camp over in long island. But the more they looked on, the more uneasy they became, and the more they prepared for a fight.
"I thought you said there were only a dozen, Thalia," one figure said, turning to one of the others. He was somewhat tall, with black hair, sea-green eyes, and semi-tanned skin, dressed in bronze battle armor over an orange t-shirt and blue jeans. He held a bronze sword in his hand in such a way that any trained warrior could tell he seemed on edge from all of this.
"There were when I last checked in here!" The aforementioned Thalia hissed, whirling on the black-haired boy. She had spiky black hair that fell to her shoulders, blue eyes that seemed to spark with electricity, and light freckles that ran across her nose. She was dressed in a white shirt, a silver jacket, silvery camo pants, and black combat boots, with a silver circlet on her head in place of a helmet. Slung across her back was a silver bow and a quiver full of silver arrows, and in her hands was a long, bronze spear with the tip pointed towards the ground so she didn't accidentally stab someone in the eye.
One figure sitting by the edge of the roof sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he never took his eyes off of the creatures flooding the streets below. His scraggly black hair was darker than that of the other two's, and his pale skin seemed to both glow in the ambient light and vanish in the dark shadows cast behind him. He wore a black bomber jacket over a black shirt and black, ripped jeans, all of which had a skull patch sewn somewhere onto them. On one hand, he wore a silver ring molded into a skull, and hanging from a chain belt around his waist was a sword made of a metal as dark as the midnight sky.
The fourth figure on the roof leaned against the door fo the roof access, watching all of what was happening without any interest. She had chocolate brown hair cut unevenly around her neck, eyes that seemed to kaleidoscope between green and blue, and skin that was darker than most of the others on the roof but free of any imperfections. She wore battle armor, similar to that of the first boy's, over an orange t-shirt and denim shorts that came down to about her mid-thighs. A sword was strapped to her hip, but she seemed content with the dagger in her hands, which she was sharpening on a whetstone she had pulled from her pocket.
"Shut it, both of you!" The fifth figure shouted, turning back to the two arguing and sighing. She was the shortest of the six, with skin the color of a roasted coffee bean, curly cinnamon hair that fell to her shoulders, and golden eyes that seemed to glow. She wore a thick, brown coat over a purple shirt with the emblem for Camp Jupiter on it, blue jeans, and heavy boots, a Roman cavalry sword hanging from her hip serving as her only weapon.
"The Roman's right. You're making too much noise." said the final figure, who was currently wrapping her hands with white strips of cloth. She was about the size of an average rugby player and fairly tall, several scars crisscrossing the muscles on her body. Her stringy brown hair was tied back loosely, leaving her face visible so she could see through her boar-like helmet which sat on the ground by her feet. Her armor was painted red, giving her the impression of bathing in blood as she wore it, and her spear crackled and glowed with red light.
Thalia and Percy, the first boy mentioned, turned away from one another and instead focused their attention on the street below. "What even are these things?" Percy thought aloud. "I haven't seen anything like them before."
"Don't know." The pale-skinned boy, Nico, said as he twisted the silver skull ring on his finger. "They seem like monsters, but… they're different in some way. I don't know how, though."
"Yeah, I see it too." The African-American girl said, pointing down to a creature that looked an awful lot like the Grim Reaper. "Take that one, for instance. It looks dead, and it feels like a reanimated spirit, but at the same time, it's like that thing hasn't ever been down to the Underworld."
"How does that work?" The chocolate-haired girl said, approaching them as she spoke. "It has to be either dead or alive, right? How can it be both?"
"I don't know, Piper," Nico answered, turning back to look at her. "I wish I had an answer, but I doubt anyone but my dad would know about them, and he's not exactly the best at sharing what he knows with me."
"What about those things?" Thalia asked, pointing to one of the shadowy shapes that flew about two stories beneath where they were perched. "What's their deal?"
Hazel, the African-American girl, spoke up next. "Again, I don't know. They're most definitely alive in the same way any other monster is alive, but they've got a very bad vibe about them. I don't really know how to describe it any other way."
"Well, whatever's up about them, doesn't matter to me." the girl in red armor said, picking up her helmet and spear and walking over to the edge of the roof. "What does matter is that we prepare for them discovering us. It's gonna happen sooner or later, and we need to be ready for it when it happens."
"I agree." Thalia and Percy said at the same time, stepping away from the edge and meeting with the armored girl to discuss battle plans. Piper and Hazel walked away as well, leaving Nico as the only person watching the street, which he was perfectly fine with.
He rubbed his thumb over his silver ring, leaning forwards a little as he watched the monsters move. The way they moved was akin to the movements of flies when they smelled rotting meat, or so it seemed to him. He could tell something was drawing them in, but what it was he could not see or sense. That may have been for the best, he realized, as whatever it may have been could be much worse than just the masses of them existing.
He was drawn back to reality by a sound he recognized, but it took him a minute to place. It was the roaring of an engine, of a motorcycle engine. But who would be driving down a street like this, at this hour, no less? Even with the Mist obscuring everything that was going on, someone driving a motorcycle at that speed would be dangerous and would no doubt get some angry New Yorkers on their case.
Nico's questions only grew as he spotted the rider in question.
The guy was taller than just about everyone on the roof, Nico could tell that much from just looking at him. His red coat flapped in the wind behind him, revealing a black shirt, grey jeans, and worn boots underneath. The white hair would have normally made Nico think the man was old, but the whooping and cheering and hollering was the kind that displayed a vigor which only came with the younger generations. A large, silver claymore was sheathed on the man's back, it's guard carved with decals that Nico couldn't quite make out.
His bike was even weirder, made of metal where it should be made of leather or rubber and the tires spraying sparks behind him as he rode. The front wheel had a quartet of sharp blades emerging from the axle, extending about a foot in front of the bike to skewer anything caught in their path. The bike itself was purple (not painted purple - the metal itself was actually purple), and by the rider's feet, there were a series of small, fin-like protrusions arranged to look like gills. The handles were covered by a weird disk-shaped metal armor piece, which glowed with purple light, and a pair of real-looking demonic horns emerging from it.
"WAAAAHOOOOO!" the man shouted, turning the bike and driving it up the back of one of the skeleton monsters (which was caught in the back wheel afterward and promptly shredded into bone chips). He leaped off the bike, grabbing a handle with one hand and swinging it like a club into one of the shadow-covered monsters, which seemed to phase right through the creature but dispersed a good chunk of its shadowy cloak. He then hurled the bike into the creature, dispersing its cloak completely and crushing the scorpion-esque creature within into paste as both bike and monster crashed into the pavement. What shocked Nico even more was that, despite the bike seemingly disappearing into electricity, the rider reached in front of him and summoned the bike back underneath him.
"Hey, what in Hades was that?" Clarisse, the girl in the red armor, asked, marching over to the edge and glaring at Nico. Nico looked up at her, then looked down to the rider again, who had somehow split the motorcycle in two, forming it into two massive chainsaws and was now using it as a pair of large swords, albeit with more reckless swings and wider spins. Out of words to describe it, he simply pointed in that direction, face morphed into a dumbfounded expression.
"...What in the fuck?" Clarisse said aloud, alerting the rest of their group that something was going on. They rushed over, weapons drawn, only to lower them in surprise as they watched the man (who was either a demigod like them, a mortal who could see through the mist and could somehow harm monsters, or a mortal who was just out of his mind and lucky) tear through another one of the flying monsters with his buzzsaw-blade-things, dropping to the ground as the weapons fizzled away into electricity.
The six demigods were silent for a moment, and then all at once, they began to comment, making a cacophony that was almost impossible to decipher.
"If Leo was here right now, he'd be having a fit about those weapons…" Piper said sadly.
"The hell is he doing?" Thalia shouted. "He's gonna get himself killed! No one can go up against all of that alone!"
"Relax, Hunter." Clarisse said, bumping her in the side with her elbow. "I can tell from a glance who's a real fighter and who isn't, and believe me, he's got some experience under his belt."
"Is he a half-blood?" Percy thought aloud, leaning forward and squinting to get a better look at him. "There's no way any mortal could have weapons like his. I haven't seen anyone fight like that, either."
"He doesn't seem like a demigod to me," Hazel said, squatting down next to her half-brother Nico. "I've never met a demigod who hadn't received some kind of blessing who could live to be that old."
"He's not old," Nico said to Hazel. "His hair might be white, but I have a feeling that it's genetic. Besides, just look at him. Could an old man do all of that?"
A screech interrupted them as all of the monsters on the street turned towards the figure in red, drawn away from whatever they were seeking and focusing their wrath on him. The demigods watched as the figure in red drew his claymore and began to fight, but their attention was caught suddenly by a feeling they all felt. It was… a wrongness that permeated the air, one that Percy might have described as similar to Tartarus, but it wasn't exactly like that. It was like… something had shown up that was never supposed to exist in this realm, and they had just caught the tail end of it leaving.
"I think that's our cue…" Thalia said, stepping back from the edge of the roof and drawing her bow.
Dante jumped off of the Mephisto he had just used as a springboard, turning himself upside-down and firing a rain of bullets beneath him, which tore the demon into tatters and destroyed a couple of the demons standing below it. His hands glowed with red energy once more as he landed, and he opened fire on one of the demons with glowing bullets, which reduced it to paste after only a few seconds. He switched his aim, twisting Ebony behind him and Ivory straight ahead to fire at two separate demons at once.
He had missed this kind of thing. With all of the no-shows and faked calls he had gotten recently (plus the event that happened while he was stuck in the Underworld which none of his companions seemed willing to discuss with him), it had seemed like the demonic presence in the general range of his influence had finally wizened up and left. Of course, he still had Nero's mobile unit to help with far-away jobs, but he'd really needed some kind of actual demon to fight to get his blood pumping and the money flowing (he had debts to pay, and he'd racked up some interest with Lady during his time 'on vacation').
Ebony and Ivory vanished back into his coat as Coyote-A was pulled from his hip and fired behind him, and the tell-tale rasps of a dying demon let him know that he had hit his mark. A quick flick of his hand was all it took to eject the spent shells and load another pair in, which he fired into a Hell Caina that thought he couldn't see it. Coyote-A flicked between his hands, spraying buckshot to his left, right, and front as he pulled the trigger, ejected the shells, and fired again in a different direction.
Coyote-A went back into its holster as well, Balrog surrounding his fists, arms, legs, and shoulders once again. He flipped upwards, body briefly surrounded by fire as he leaped out of the way of several strikes and blasts, landing a few yards away and crossing his arms. "Come on, I thought you wanted me dead!" he taunted, tapping his foot and smirking. "Come at me! I'm not going anywhere!" The demons roared, rushing in his direction with caution thrown to the wind.
Dante stood still, drumming his fingers on his bicep as his arms remained crossed. He could have dodged away at any moment, been out of the way of the incoming demons long before they reached him, but he was nothing if not a man of style, and he had a plan already forming in his head. The demons were only about three yards away, and still, he didn't move.
They were at two now, and only then did Dante uncross his arms. His hands spread open in a 'come and get me' gesture as he shook his head, the fire flowing from Balrog beginning to fade as he stood. A feeling from all around him and from within urged him to move and fight, to kill, but he remained still as ever as the demons rossed one more yard. One more yard until he was back into the fight.
At the last possible second, Dante reached down and flicked the bottom of his coat in front of his face. There was a flash of red, and then the blades and claws of the demons whizzed through thin air. Dante appeared in a similar flash in the air above them, Balrog's flames blazing brightly as the now-reinforced boots launched the demon hunter downward in a fashion similar to that of a comet. He then began to spin like a breakdancer, legs extended and burning with flames as he began to create a miniature tornado. He impacted with demons, burning them, bludgeoning them, and dragging them along with him as he spun.
After a few seconds of this, Dante spun to his feet, the armor on his legs disappearing and reforming on his shoulders. He cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders to get the tension out of them as he looked around at the bloodied and battered demons. "Alright, who's next on the chopping block?" He shouted, hoping to catch the attention of some other demons heading towards the parking deck they were being drawn to.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up suddenly, alerting him to a possible threat behind him. He sidestepped and twisted his body to face it, and found himself watching the silver tip of an arrow fly past him and into a recovering Mephisto behind him. Several more followed, some striking the ground nearby and some stabbing into the demons around him. He looked up, frowning as his arms crossed once more.
Standing on the roof of the building in front of him was a girl. She couldn't have been older than 18, but she stood with the confidence of a veteran fighter. In her hands was a longbow, a silver-tipped arrow already resting on the string, having been drawn from the quiver across her back. In her spiky black hair was a silver circlet, matching the silver-and-white clothes she wore. He couldn't make out anything else beyond that, as she was too high up for even his superhuman senses to make out.
"Ugh…" he sighed, the fire on his gauntlets going out as he facepalmed. "You have got to be kidding me…"
His attention was pulled away from the girl on the roof as three figures emerged from the shadows in the alley to the left of the building. The first was a pale-skinned boy who reminded Dante of a stereotypical biker, with his messy black hair, black jacket, and chain belt holding up his black jeans. The second was a dark-skinned girl wearing blue jeans and an unzipped brown jacket, revealing a purple shirt with weird designs that he could have cared less about. The third was another black-haired boy, wearing bronze battle armor over an orange shirt and jeans.
The first girl vaulted off of the roof of the building, using her apparent acrobatic skill to make sure she landed. Seconds later, a figure in boar-themed armor painted red landed next to her, dropping the girl they were holding and drawing a glowing spear and shield from her back. The girl who was in the armored figure's arms moments before regained her balance, sweeping her chocolate-colored hair from her eyes before standing up, revealing that she was wearing bronze armor as well.
There was a long moment of silence as the six new arrivals (who all were pretty much teenagers) and Dante sized each other up. Dante counted at least six weapons in plain sight, but he suspected that a few of them may have had some weapons concealed. He made no attempt to hide any of his already visible weapons, knowing that if they wanted to hurt him, they would've already started their attack.
A few more long moments passed, and then Dante spoke quietly. "You get lost on the way to the Renaissance Fair or something?" he asked, looking around at all of them. "'Cause a bunch of kids in armor isn't something you see every day in this city."
"We're not kids." the silver-clad archer said, gaining a scowl on her face. "And we're here to deal with these monsters. This-" she gestured to the weapons and armor of the group- "is just what we use to do that."
Dante sighed and rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms as he twisted his back foot so that it was perpendicular with his front foot, which was aimed directly at the silver-clad archer. He spoke, slowly moving to keep them from drawing weapons whilst getting into a ready stance. "Okay, listen. First off, you really don't need to help me out here. I've got this." Balrog's steel scales began to radiate heat as Dante focused, humming with a familiar fiery power as he charged it with demonic power. "Second, I thought I was the only one on this job. I'll have words with the caller if they offered to pay you as well, because once I'm signed on, no one else is getting a slice of my money." The cracks in the fire-powered gauntlets began to emit an orange light, similar to that of magma. "Third, if you're into demon hunting, then you're bad at it. You're paying too much attention to me, and not enough to what's going on around you."
With that, Dante punched forward with his right hand, following up immediately with his left. The eyes on the back of Balrog's hands launched from their sockets, taking all of the heat and flame from the gauntlets and using it to become meteors which launched past the archer and the spear lady. They hit their intended target, a Scarecrow which had just formed behind the unaware kids, and detonated into a blossom of flame, which incinerated the demon and left nothing behind. The eyes reassembled in their sockets, their color faded and dull. In the space it left behind, everyone could see several more Scarecrows appearing from dark shadows where the ambient light didn't reach.
"Now, out of my way." Dante continued, stepping forwards and drawing Rebellion as Balrog vanished. "I need to earn my pay."
Hey, what's going on? I'm not sure why I made this, but I did, and now I feel like sharing it.
Anyways, I know I screwed up on some of the bits in this, but bear with me. I am not Dante or any of the other characters, nor have I written them before, so I'm trying my best. Also yes, I know Cavaliere shouldn't exist before DMC5. Do I care? Not really.
Anyways, If you like this, why not show me some support? I'd love to hear feedback, as well as tips on how to write any of these characters, as I'm not a great writer and haven't read the HoO books in a while. Reviews are always appreciated, and if you really want to, you could tell me what your favorite Devil Arm (guns like Artemis and the Nightmare guns count, but not man-made guns) or demon from Devil May Cry is.
That Random Demon, signing off!