Although I don't like that the reader did it in the matter that it was done (guest reader, please review a story with criticism... not requests... you should send requests via PM) I received a request. For those of you who sporadically follow me you may have noticed that I don't dwell in crossovers. Not just that, but I don't write Devil May Cry FF for a reason. Don't get me wrong, I love DMC :3 but I feel that I'm not good at writing yet to dwell into that gaming universe; however, for this guest reader I will try.

I don't mind a challenge and it's the first request I've ever had. Why not give it a shot?

Request in a Nutshell:

Crossover- Devil May Cry and Hyrule Warriors/LoZ

Pairing- Vergil x Cia

Nero's Relationship- offspring of Vergil

Appearances of other characters can be whenever and whatever

Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone when it comes to Devil May Cry and Legend of Zelda series

Rated R for language and future gore (possibly romance, I may be a girl, but I don't fancy writing romance that much... not the obvious kind anyways)

White Devils

Part 01 - Image

"Don't get too close, it's dark inside… it's where my demons hide."

- Demons by Imagine Dragons

930,456,247,857,856 souls and yet not a single one could withstand life itself, they could barely surpass the age of one hundred, and despite their age and progressive society they remained as children. It was a disgusting sight, to watch over infants and their continuous failures. How many times did humanity have to repeat itself to make amends?

How many years was it now? How many years had she been "alive," watching over failures? The planet was much older than man thought, but even now she herself could not fathom the planet's ancient origin. Either way, it pushed her to exhaustion and so she curled up on nonexistent ground and snuggled into the rough, glowing attire of lavender and silver.

The void of white dissipated around her, color of black closing in with a whisper as the multitude of visions that ran amok in this realm vanished with the innocent white. She had been watching over humanity since the planet's creation, but each time she attempted rest she never found herself getting used to the change in realms. The darkness was a way to calm her from the sins, the scenes, and the warped mindsets yet it was oh so lonely.

Violet eyes looked on against her desolate sanctuary, but all she ever saw and would see is darkness or that of white. All she would ever witness would be the lives and deaths of billions. Then again perhaps that was best because somewhere inside her soulless body she feared those children that she was tasked to watch over. She feared them and their corruption… even if she desired another's company. Of course, even if she did her very appearance would appear unnatural and perhaps even frightening. Not a single human dawned snowy locks, purple eyes, delicate horns of obsidian, or lifeless flesh. Not a single human could oppose her outer appearance when it came to beauty either. Not a single one could withstand her age of immortality, but was solitude really all that heartwarming, safe? She wasn't entirely sure herself anymore.

But what if my existence had been that of a human? How would I look then? Would I feel such emptiness, such fear?

She nearly erupted with laughter at the very ideal. Such thoughts were irrelevant. Emotions were irrelevant. An overseer of human souls should not ponder over things so freely. It was not her duty and neither was allowing herself to believe that she was afraid of dim-witted mortals.

Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to feel human. It was better than feeling like an abandoned abomination.

The laughter died away.

"Must you always bring such filth to my home?" The question was growled out from across the table. For a while, the small and incredibly untidy kitchen had been eerily silent and for a moment the young, white haired teen had suspected that he was free of a scolding. At the inquiry he slumped down into the rickety chair and folded his arms, azure eyes glaring at the dominant figure.

"Kyrie isn't 'filth.' 'Sides, it's my home too." The boy slumped further into his seat at the twitch of expression from the other. The reply had sounded a lot better in his head…

"Your house? Your house? Oh, so you've been making the payments, keeping up maintenance, providing food for the family, and cleaned this damned building?" The teen squirmed underneath the evolving anger directed toward him. It was always the same comeback and even if he had seen it coming, he still hadn't conjured up a worthy response to back up his previous words. "You don't have a job, a car, or a decent education to even try at saying you own this house or even dare to go against my authority. You're just as bad as your uncle and you're even starting to act like him! I left you in his care for two days, Nero, two days and already you've been making a mess by leaving fucking pizza boxes all over the damned place."

"Uncle Dante is way cooler than you." The child, Nero, muttered angrily under his breath. His defiant expression had dwindled down to a childish pout.

"And he's probably infested with sexual diseases by now." As sporadic as it was, Nero knew better than to laugh at the comment whether it is true or not.

"I'm sixteen though, come on dad."

"Exactly. You're still a brat, just like Dante. If you really want to practice his ways of fucking random trash from the streets then do it somewhere else." Nero's father was beginning to let his anger get the best of him and that fact alone scared Nero to silence. The kitchen was already starting to drop in temperature and the one, dim light overhead was already starting to flicker underneath the presence of something sinister. Then again he preferred those anomalies over the crushing weight on his body from the sudden aura that had begun to rip its way into the already unsettling atmosphere.

It wasn't hard angering his father, but it was hard to get his father to show his origins. When something like a demonic aura did come up and about, Nero made sure to shut his mouth and pray that the angry devil would calm down. His father hadn't hit him yet when he'd allowed his inner beast to come out, but there had been a few close calls and flying dishes sent his way.

A sigh, something of disappointment, brought the boy out of his thoughts, "Just finish your toast and get your shit ready for school. You're getting on my last nerves here so if I find out that you skipped school again…" his son eyed him, understanding full well of the possible string of threats. There had been a time when he doubted his father's threats, but that time had been short lived.

Without another word, Nero swallowed the toast and briskly removed himself from the minute hellhole and up to his room. In one last act of childish rebellion, he slammed his bedroom door shut to the point where the whole house shuddered. The very act only made his father grin. It was always satisfying when he could get under the brat's skin.

Nevertheless, the smirk died away right as his demonic side began to wither. Every morning this happened. It was rare for them to have a peaceful moment when together and this was especially true in the mornings. Both of them were nowhere near being that of morning people and with their share of a short temper… always a fight. It wasn't particularly surprising when it came to Nero's little rebellious antics. In fact, it was to be expected. The brat was a little demon after all and one that irritated him to no end.

"What did you think would happen the next morning, you little idiot? You know damn well that demons have sensitive senses… and for you to have sex." He shook his head, disgusted by the mere memory of his son's one night stand. It was troublesome. In all honesty he did love his twin, but that overgrown imbecile annoyed him to no end. "Can't believe it took him two days to de-program my kid." It had been nearly two weeks since he had left Nero in Dante's care after being called to an assignment. Someone had been possessed by a demon and he had been requested to exorcise it. Being wary of Nero's safety, he sent him off to Dante. Since then, Nero had been even more unruly and had even leveled up when it came to annoying his old man. The kid had been a virgin a few weeks ago. "He's only sixteen. Who knows what else Dante taught him." Hopefully his twin hadn't taught Nero how to use his demonic abilities. It would be nice to allow his kid to live a normal life… if possible. Then again what was normal about his family, their history, and the kid's arm?

Speaking of which, I forgot to take a look at it today.

He didn't move from the table though, but instead found incredible interest in his cold piece of toast. Nero hadn't mentioned his arm hurting or doing anything abnormal so the demonic appendage was probably fine.

It was odd how his son had a demon's arm. It was like a part of his body was stuck in a Trigger mode, but the possibility of Nero ever attaining that level of demon was thin. Unlike his brother and him who were born from demon and angel, Nero had been born from a demon and a regular mortal. His demonic self was diluted. The arm was probably some sort of side affect or response to an unbalanced birth.

He pondered over that, withholding a fit of laughter over his rather mundane thoughts. His current self was a striking contrast to his former persona. There was a time when he didn't curse so blatantly, a time where he would oppose such contact with mortals, and a time where he would not have even dreamed on having spawn. No, his former self had been too intent in achieving greatness. Such a thing was short lived and either way here he was, mulling over old times in a little kitchen over a plate of cold toast.

"My attitude has gotten rather worse these days." He nudged the paper plate away, "Perhaps I myself have spent too much time around Dante… or the kid." Nero did have a mouth on him just as well and there were a few instances where he found himself wondering if Nero was in fact his kid. The brat resembled Dante when it came to personality.

Footfalls urged him to rise from his chair and rid the table of its contents. When he had thrown away the last remains of breakfast he looked up just in time to see Nero coming down from the last step. The kid had changed into black jeans and a baggy white shirt. A beanie was even added as a last minute excuse to not brush out his messy hair. "You look like a hoodlum." Nero rolled his eyes and set to searching for his backpack in the adjacent room.

"Says the guy who's over eighty." Came the belated response. Demon blood did have its perks.

"Sad isn't it, that that's the best you can come up with these days? Now hurry up, I've got an assignment today and I'd enjoy the possibility of finishing it before midday."

The winter air met them head on, but its touch did little to deter their natural body heat as the pair made their way to the only vehicle that resided on the lot. There had been a time when a motorcycle had been in place of the red sedan, but that was before priorities came about. "Can I drive?" Nero asked, "Please? I promise I won't hit an old lady or something again."

"Can't believe I even allowed you to drive that day too, you don't even have a license. No."

The darkness receded, the whiteness burning her retinas for a moment before the void of white erupted with life. Images flickered all around her, moving to and fro like broken film, but with one glance at each shifting, grainy image she knew of each human's situation, decision, life, name, everything that made them. She knew it with a glance. Such a thing would have bothered the next person, but her existence was to remain soulless and watchful. Nevertheless, her thoughts wondered over past wonders. The very distraction caused the void to flicker between the white and the black.

That is, until the abnormality of the children replaced one of the images. The distraction vanished and she set her gaze on the child with numb interest. He was different from the rest of them, from his naked species. Unlike the majority, he was considerate and valiant. He was the definition of a hero, a hero constrained into the duties of a law enforcement officer. His very mind fascinated her to no end, but it also brought her to feel a string of undesired and unknown emotions. There was a time when she favored the idea of descending to that very planet that she watched over and balanced just to meet him, but… she was not compatible with such a positive mind.

Apathy. Yes, that's right. She was a husk. She was not dead but she is not living either. She's simply existing.

The image shifted then, during her despairing thought, and that very change of vision caused the realm to flicker again but the change was much more violent. She arose from her curled up spot on the nonexistent floor to eye the error that the realm had found and as her violet eyes rested on the very image, pain grasped her. She fell forward, hands immediately pressing against her heart as bile crawled its way up her throat. The image that she witnessed spread across the sea of souls like a virus until it was that existence and that existence alone.

Darkness. Despair. Hatred. Loneliness. Death. So much blood… so much blood. She cried out at the onslaught of emotion that had sparked to life from the sight. That twisted existence's life driving through her mind like a nail. Just like a nail… she could feel a stream of blood slip down her forehead.

"The balance is breaking." Cried a chorus of whispers. The very sound shook the flickering realm and distorted the images till one by one they vanished. "The balance is breaking!" She heaved, bile oozing from her lips from the mental pressure that clawed its way through her senses. She'd had several premonitions before, but none of them could be compared to the searing pain of her skull cracking from the omen. All the while she felt her lips move unwillingly, announcing the cause of disturbance.

Mundus.

It could be the name of a person, an event, or an object… she didn't know, but either way the predicted reality that wreaked havoc in her head was enough to worry her. This "Mundus" was going to destroy the neutrality, the balance that she cared for like a mother would to a child. Yet… what could she do? It had been so long since the balance had been touched, but the omen was nothing like this one. That and the cause of destruction had been eradicated by the souls she watched over. Unlike that time, this one was much different.

Or was it?

It was possible that she was allowing the pain to escalate. It was possible that her previous, unnatural thoughts encouraged the options that came before her. An overseer was not allowed to interfere with the lives they governed, but… if everything they governed was to be destroyed then what would be so wrong in giving aid?

"What can you do? You are an immortal shell that is empty of human emotion." The chorus of voices came about again, sounding just as tearful and harsh as the last uttered statements. This voice was something she hadn't heard for a decade or so. It came to her when she least desired its company. It was the voice that existed in this realm, a figment of her—conscience. "Let the souls be souls. If they are damned then they are damned."

But then her existence would become nothing. She would succumb to even more loneliness if such a thing was possible.

His identical twin met him at the door of the Devil May Cry shop. Through the years the shop had received a good reputation when it came to hunting and exterminating the supernatural, but it didn't mean that it made a living off missions. "Hey Verg, want some pizza?" Dante snickered as he waved the slice between them. His brother, Vergil, gave a roll of his eyes in utter disgust. It's all the man ever ate. Pushing the demon to the side, "You're going to get fat, Dante." He wandered in only to be assaulted with the smell of tomato sauce and aging cheese. There are more pizza boxes here than yesterday. "Do you ever clean up?"

"If you don't like my décor then take your leave." His twin shrugged, closing the door behind them.

"It's a pigsty in here. No wonder we don't have any customers."

"Your house isn't all shits and giggles either."

"I believe it would have been if it wasn't for your rotten influence."

"What can I say? I'm a natural role model." Dante said in-between bites of pepperoni. "Anyways, get off my case. I've already got the ladies bitching so give it a rest. Now about that mission we talked about, seems we got ourselves a little infestation downtown. A damn church even." He sat down at his desk, the only surface that wasn't hidden by pizza boxes, and poked at the post-it note beside the old telephone. "Bunch of Beelzebubs in the church water pipes and shit. Old priest man says that if we can get it done before the afternoon then three thous—"

"Only three thousand?"

"It would've been four but… pissed the old geezer off."

Vergil sighed and leaned over the desk to eye his twin with a fixed gaze of brotherly disappointment. "Typical. You're foolish." He slapped the pizza slice out of his brother's hand, "Remind me why I even bothered to team up with you?"

Within the breath of a second Dante stood and withdrew his trusted guns from their holsters. "No one disgraces my pizza. That box was twelve bucks, a dollar per slice. You've got a death wish."

Please, pleas, please give me your thoughts. Do you like it, hate it? Am I doing these characters any justice? Give me the good, the bad, and the ugly when it comes to reviews!