Author's Note: What is this?! An update and a new story within days of each other after almost a year of silence? Yes, it is and welcome one and all to my newest creation, based on the video game series that I hold near and very dear to my heart.
Yes, I played Devil May Cry V, and it inspired the living hell out of me.
The action, the gameplay, and I for one really enjoyed the story and all of the callbacks it made to the series proper in a way to firmly establish both a timeline and also try and snip some of those loose threads that have existed for so long.
Now, onto a bigger note, one which will directly impact the viewership of this fic.
Nero, is going to have Devil Arms. Rather familiar ones at that.
This will divide those of you, who like me, are part of the Devil May Cry fandom and all it entails.
I know this after reading some fics with a similar concepts and watching as people lambasted them and the authors to oblivion for it.
So, to clear the air right here and now, yes he has Devil Arms. And no, they are not going away.
I could go on and explain my side of the argument as to why Nero is able to use Devil Arms, but I feel that it would be more productive for later chapters and some tidbits within this one to shed some light as to why I believe it is something that is more than possible in canon; and in any fic in which the author chooses to give Nero new weapons.
There, I said my piece, and now I only ask that you at least read the chapter first before coming to your conclusions.
If not, thank you for your time, and happy future reading on anything that interests you!
Also for future reference:
"Speech,"
"Demon/Mech speeaking,"
'Thoughts/Telepathic conversation with Devil Arms,'
When Nero woke up, the very last thing he expected to see was the bars of a cell and the light of the sun shining down on his face. Groaning as a dull pain throbbed in his head, the young man sat up and blearily looked around, ice-blue eyes narrowed in confusion as a strange howling wind echoed in his ears. His short cropped silvery-white hair flowed in the wind and as he started to get his bearings, Nero realised that he could no longer feel the comfortable weight of either Blue Rose or Red Queen. A momentary sense of dread and anger flashed through him, however he swiftly squashed it down and focused, recognizing that acting and lashing out wasn't going to help him in this circumstance.
Jumping to his feet once his head was no longer throbbing also made Nero realise that he was also bereft of his coat and boots, leaving him in his dark crimson shirt pulled over a rather old and faded white muscle shirt. He also noted with some measure of reassurance that the sapphire necklace that Lady had given him after what had happened in Red Grave was still hung from his neck, and that he thankfully still had his old pair of black pants on. Dusting off his clothes of any errant dirt, Nero figured that he was functional enough to try and get a grasp of just what kind of fucked up situation he found himself in now.
Glancing around, Nero was stunned to see that his sluggish awakening had made him miss the obvious fact that his cell was suspended outside of what looked like a floating island. One that was about as large as the old Leviathan that Dante had told him about, and had a massive castle on it. In all directions Nero gazed down at the landscape of the vast forest, brilliant blue sky, and numerous cliffs on either side of the island as they sped through the air. It was truly a breathtaking sight; at least, it would have been under more normal circumstances at least. Brushing off the slight chill that hung in the air as the sun started to sink towards the horizon, Nero sighed as he glanced downward and scowled when he noticed the slight seams on both sides of the cage at the outer edges.
"Great, not only am I in a steel deathtrap, but it looks the damned thing opens up from the bottom and out. Probably to get rid of anyone who either becomes too much to handle, or once they got whatever the hell they wanted out of the poor bastards before sending them to go splat," he groused, crossing his arms and making sure to stride along the center beam which ran along the floor and no doubt most likely held the hinges and mechanism for the trapdoors. "Why the hell am I always the one getting into situations like this? I bet Dante never had anything this fucking crazy happen to him when he started out."
'Thank goodness you are awake young Master, we had grown worried when you had not awoken for hours,' the twin voices of Agni and Rudra echoed in his skull, bringing more of the young devil to full consciousness and startling him out of his monologue. A multitude of similar feelings echoed through his soul, as the few Devil Arms that he had taken from Dante's shop on his last job echoed similar sentiments.
'Agni? Rudra? Heh, it's good to hear from you too,' Nero said as he sighed in relief and then walked towards the far end of the circular cage. Idly taping one of the bars, its color of dull brass and no thicker than his index finger, Nero figured he could just use his brute strength and smash his way out. Unfortunately, that would also more than likely make him the target of every single person inside of the giant ass castle he was attached too. So forcing his way out was a no go. For now anyway.
"Well, there goes the easy way out. Looks like I might have to play the long game on this one and wait until somebody comes to check in on me," he remarked, crossing his arms and glancing up towards the tall spires of the castle above him. "Whoever they are, they have some decent taste at least. It's like looking at Fortuna all over again," he said with a small grin as memories of the last time he had been home started to flash through his head. Although, those thoughts did not bring the same comfort they had long ago as Nero felt his face slip into a hard scowl once more. Not since what had happened between him and Kyrie. Growling angrily, Nero scoffed as he started pacing again; his stance agitated and his body tense as he tried to drown out the bittersweet memories and feelings.
'Calm yourself young Sparda, be mindful of our predicament and do not allow your emotions to get the better of you. We were lucky, in that these creatures sought not to harm you upon our discovery,' Alastor offered, the mighty Thunder Sword doing its best to ease his new master's agitation and temper. Luckily this new master had indeed been quite willing to listen to their advice in times of conflict, as opposed to his uncle who had sworn them all to silence whenever they were required on his missions.
'It is best to assume that you are in a word, valuable to them at this junction. I think it best we wait for not only the right opportunity to strike, but also a greater grasp as to our current situation before making a move.'
'Alastor's right. They attempted us no harm, and simply seemed curious as to our circumstances in arriving here. They had every right to be cautious of us, as we no doubt would have done the same had the situations been switched,' reasoned Pandora, her light and calm voice a welcome reprieve amongst the many loud personalities of her brothers. 'No doubt the portal was unlike anything they had ever seen before, which only brings up more concerns, for your own personal quest in life. The Underworld may yet attempt to conquer this world, and as it stands; you are the only one who has any truly effective means of stopping them.'
'As it should be! This damn place reeks of the human filth our lord sought to destroy for millennia! To think that I am once more forced to aid in their defense mars my black heart! Something that should be shared by all of you! Traitors to your bones, and marred by your cowardice in the face of Sparda's bastard brood!'
Nero only sighed heavily as the last voice echoed out. The harsh and often antagonistic words of Beowulf snarling in his head once more making the young Descendant of Sparda wish that he had not been forced to take the damned Devil Arm with him at all. Unfortunately, despite being a colossal asshole, Beowulf remains one of the strongest Devil Arms at his disposal. That kind of power was not something that Nero could ignore out of pride or his own sanity, not if it meant the difference between life and death for not only himself but for the world.
It also held some form of sentimental value to him, as Agni and Rudra had wasted no time in revealing that the powerful Devil Arm had originally belonged to his father before the eldest Son of Sparda had discarded it. Luckily Dante had found it after their fight, but all the same, it was another keepsake from the both of them. Something he cherished almost as much as the book his father had left him at the top of the Qliphoth.
He had better find the book in perfect condition with the rest of his belongings, otherwise there would be absolute hell to pay if they had damaged it in any way! He was snapped form his angry thoughts as the other Devil Arms spoke up in his defense.
'Mind your words Beowulf! Lest you forget, that it is only thanks to the young Master that you are not currently stuck as an umbrella stand back at the shop!' Agni and Rudra interjected, their tones hard and furious as the twin blades nearly forced themselves into existence in their anger. 'Cease your hostility, we are meant to aid the Master on his journey. Not, as you would so incline, to hamper him. Besides, with Master's Dante and Vergil in the Underworld now, it is more than likely that Mundus has long since perished and they now rule in his stead. Fitting in a way, for the two most powerful Devils to usurp the once great Mundus.'
Beowulf appeared ready to respond, the sheer indignation and utter hatred which emerged at the twin swords words burning Nero's very soul as at last his patience ran out.
'Enough!' Nero yelled out within the shared telepathic link that he possessed with the Devil Arms, his eyes flashing a demonic red for but a moment as he exerted the colossal weight and fear inducing presence of his demonic power. An aura of absolute dread and supreme authority followed with it, one which swiftly brought the unruly Devil Arms to heel, and in any other instance would have summoned demons in droves to try and kill him. Reining it back in was quite easy, and in turn unbeknownst to him, had alerted the castle as to his awakening. 'I appreciate the support guys, and for Beowulf's stellar commentary… but right now we have more important things to worry about. All we can do is wait, and see what happens from here. If these guys turn out to be a little less friendly then we'd hoped, then Alastor and I are going to tear this place apart to get the hell out of here. Then, we figure out just exactly where the hell "here" actually is. If nothing else, sooner or later my father and Dante will discover I'm missing and will use the Yamato to open a gate to come get me. All we need to do now, is be patient.'
The four Devil Arms remained silent at this, each coming to a silent agreement that as it stood now, the youngest member of the Sparda tribe was correct. They had no means of transport, other than flying of course, but this would only make them a target to whomever they would have to kill to get out. Patience would in this case prove more fruitful than recklessness. Something that all of the Devil Arms agreed, was probably the only reason Nero was being so calm about the whole situation in the first place. Otherwise the castle would have likely been turned into a razed ruin by now.
'Agreed,' they responded as one, while Nero simply nodded his head in acceptance and then moved to the center of the cage. Stretching out his arms and legs, Nero started to hop on the balls of his feet, steadying his breathing as a familiar sense of excitement sang in his heart. His inner devil preened at the chance of battle, but for now it would have to be patient.
"Good, glad we could all come to an understanding," the Descendant of Sparda joked, smirking cockily as he lowered himself into a rough boxing stance and started throwing a swift combination of jabs and punches that Beowulf had imprinted to his mind. Making sure to dance around his cage and get a proper feel for the space and how much room he had to maneuver. "Seeing as how they've left me alone, might as well get some training in. Can't afford to lose my edge, despite being on vacation," he murmured to himself, swiftly flowing into a series of kicks and leg sweeps as he immersed himself in his training and through the motions of battle.
It was a method that would have proven far more effective if Beowulf was equipped, but for the moment his captors assumed that he had no weapons to speak of. They would only ask really uncomfortable questions if all of a sudden he had a massive two-handed sword, gauntlets and greaves, and a suitcase for that matter magically appear on his body. Better to make them think he was simply keeping in shape through his exercises. Not only could he sharpen his reaction times and get the movements down, but it would serve to make them wary of him should the need ever occur.
Meanwhile, within the castle observation deck a great deal of the almost entirely female staff were captivated by the images on screen of the handsome and powerfully built man exercising to his heart's content. For nearly an hour they remained there, utterly bewitched by the man's physical prowess and physique as he changed through a vast variety of moves and exercises. Soon enough the man discarded the crimson shirt he wore, revealing the slightly damp undershirt which plastered itself to his skin. The fabric doing little to disguise the vast amounts of lithe muscle that covered the man's powerful frame as he continued to move.
"My word," a young maid said under her breath, the sentiment shared amongst many of her peers as the man jabbed at the air with lightning speed and seemingly without any trouble at all. A flush came to her cheeks as the man's focused expression came into view on screen, his sharp blue eyes and silver hair when combined with his angular and aristocratic features making her swoon. Made all the worse when he smirked cockily and his eyes flashed in the light of the sun. "By the gods just look at him," the young woman sighed dreamily, clasping her hands together in a daze.
Chiaia Flan, personal bodyguard to the Empress Lashara, also found herself nearly spellbound by the man; now starting to realise just how he could carry the sword that they had confiscated from him with apparent ease. The same sword that had taken four of their strongest crew members to carry to the armory for safekeeping. She frowned thoughtfully as she regarded his movements, recognizing the immense talent and skill as every move flowed near seamlessly from one to the next.
"Who the hell is this guy?" she thought as she watched him effortlessly finish a three-four combo and then allowed the momentum and energy gathered in his limbs to lash out with a low sweeping kick which eventually ended well over his head and instantly turned into a devastating axe-kick.
The red-haired woman was soon snapped from her analysis as the Empress made her approach, the young woman's elegant features and golden blonde hair a stark contrast to many of the darker and less vibrant shades among the many inhabitants of the castle. Lashara, at the age of eighteen was already stunning beauty, which unfortunately only worked against her having only recently come to the throne of her Empire following her father's untimely death a few weeks ago. Yet for the moment the Empress' main and indeed greatest concern was regarding the man currently hanging from her sky cell seemingly without much of a care in the world as to his predicament.
"Chiaia, We had been told that he was given enough sedatives so as to keep him unconscious for another three hours," the Empress said with a tone of intrigue in her voice as she made no attempt to disguise her intense interest in the man on the screen. "How then do you explain that he is currently up and about, all while doing exercise when he should still be nearly comatose?"
"I do not know Empress," Chiaia said shortly with an apologetic bow of her head, narrowing her emerald eyes as she spun on her heel and made for the dungeon. "But I intend to find out." The staff simply watched her go, waiting anxiously for the moment the Captain would meet with the prisoner.
Nero was just starting to go through the motions for a sweep-uppercut combination, that Beowulf begrudgingly sought to teach him, when he heard someone approaching. The grinding of stone and the ratchet of heavy gears was the biggest giveaway, which was soon followed by the familiar clack of heels on a stone walkway. Then again, he mused to himself, seeing as how he was the one currently trapped in a cell, to them at least, it made sense that they weren't exactly concerned with him being startled by getting visitors.
"You want something?" he asked shortly, slipping a jab and then following it up with a roundhouse that with his momentum caused him to spin and then stop while facing the newcomer. The harsh wind kicked up by the strength of his attack seemed to not even faze whoever it was, but it caused the cage to rattle ominously, something which caused many of the unseen spectators to stare at the screen in awe and trepidation at the display of tremendous strength.
When the wind died down and Nero finally took stock of the person no doubt sent to interrogate him, what the Son of Vergil had not expected was to see a beautiful woman; clad in a form fitting red and burgundy dress uniform covered by a white cloak with a sword strapped to her waist. Her hair was a fine ruby-red color, and fell in swept bangs and spiked locks which seemed to shimmer in the sun. Her features were unmistakably feminine, with high cheekbones and the delicate complexion of one apparently of aristocratic birth. However, her eyes were hard as stone, never moving away from his own as Nero noted her tensed posture and the way in which she had set her feet.
'A swordswoman huh? Looks like this place isn't going to be as boring as I thought,' he mused to himself as he lowered his right leg. His posture shifted and lost much of its tension, relaxing into a casual grace as was expected by one of Sparda's blood. Wiping some sweat from his brow, Nero released a slow breath as he slowed his heartbeat and allowed his body to relax fully as he stretched his arms over his head. All while making sure that the rather attractive woman didn't notice the slight dusting of pink on his cheeks.
Of all the things he had yet to fully break, it was the remnants of his bashfulness around beautiful women. Seems he didn't get all of his father's charms after all, despite what Lady and Trish said on the matter. Moving over to his discarded shirt, Nero swiftly pulled it on as the woman remained silent, her gaze boring a hole into his back as he then turned and strode towards her.
"Well? You gonna start talking, or am I still getting the silent treatment?" he goaded, eyes narrowing in annoyance as the woman seemed to scowl at his tone and narrowed her eyes at him in return. The exchange would have no doubt appeared far more antagonistic if not for the barely noticeable pink dusting both of their cheeks.
'Seems this one has a backbone,' Alastor noted, assessing the woman through his Master's gaze. She was beautiful, even by the standards of demonkind, and no doubt would have been made into quite the trophy for any demon who had a taste for such things back on their world. Although in this instance, Alastor doubted that his wielder would be receptive of that kind of thinking so soon after the debacle with Lady Kyrie. Although, perhaps this would be a good way to speed up his recovery…
"That depends. Are you going to co-operate?" she asked simply, crossing her arms over her chest and discreetly pressing her finger on the button which activated the trapdoors at the first sign of hostility. "Or, am I going to have to starve you out here long enough to get the answers I want? And trust me, right now, I'm feeling more inclined to go with the second option."
Nero simply smirked at her for the thinly veiled threat. Considering that he had been stabbed through the chest and heart multiple times since becoming a Devil Hunter, starvation was bottom rung on the types of things that could seriously affect him. For a while at least.
"Depends on what kind of questions you're gonna be asking sweetheart," he said as he leaned against the bars, making Chiaia realise quite suddenly that the rather handsome prisoner was a fair bit taller than her. And covered in powerful muscles that were barely hidden by a tight, sweat-matted shirt. "As long as this deal works both ways, I don't see why not. Can't get any worse than this honestly," he lamented with faux expression of misery, the look soon giving way to a confident and teasing smirk once more.
Chiaia felt a sudden rush at the smoldering gaze in his eyes, straightening ever so slightly as she steeled herself and desperately hoped that her cheeks hadn't burst into a fierce blush. Yet as she did, she noticed something else that was carefully hidden in his gaze. The prisoner's eyes, the finest blue that she had ever seen and despite their frigidity and hard fierceness, were also warm in a way she could barely describe. They bore into her own with an intensity that seemed almost otherworldly, expressing his sincerity on the matter and all while still carrying this cold hard edge within them. The eyes of a warrior and a survivor, of that Chiaia was sure.
Nodding her head while also making sure that her cheeks were no longer pink because of the suddenly intimate atmosphere, Chiaia carefully stepped back and brought out notepad and a stylus as she gestured for Nero to sit down in his cell. The young Cambion did so after giving her an almost bemused look, slightly shaking his head and chuckling before settling himself down in the center of the cell. After adjusting himself for a few moments, Nero leaned back and gazed up at the woman and rose a brow at her expectantly. Chiaia barely managed to stifle a slight giggle at the rather cute expression before focusing on the task at hand.
"Alright then, let's start with something fairly easy I think. I doubt you would want us to call you "prisoner" the entire time that you're here. So, considering this exchange, do you think you would be willing to give me your name?"
Nero paused for moment, his gaze wandering and slightly unfocused as memories of the last time someone had asked for his name flashed through his mind. Of a man with raven hair, a delicate smile and wielding a silver cane. Of a man with hair like his own, the same hard blue eyes and the single moment during a battle for the fate of the world that had proven him right. "As long as I can ask the same in return, if that's alright with you," he said finally, shifting his gaze to the woman once more and seeing her appear to think it over for a few moments before nodding her head in agreement.
"…Very well. I am Dame Chiaia Flan, Her Majesty Lashara Earth's personal bodyguard and a Mecha-Knight Master of the Shtrayu Empire," she said proudly, an almost imperceptible smile on her lips a great sense of pride which burned bright within her eyes. Nero however, while outwardly seemingly unconcerned at her introduction, was in fact internally disturbed at the implication of her words. Seeing as neither Lady, nor Trish had ever made mention of that kingdom existing on Earth. Damn his feudal education and the isolationism of Fortuna! Also, the whole flying island thing definitely should have been the biggest indicator that he sure as hell wasn't on Earth anymore. Though, one shouldn't often have to consider being on another world as a regular occurrence.
'Well, looks like rescue might be a little further off than I thought,' Nero thought to himself. However he could not allow himself to get distracted, so he forcefully shoved those thoughts deep into the back of his mind for the moment. After ensuring he was focused once more, the Descendant of Sparda gave Chiaia a small nod as he spoke.
"Name's Nero, Nero Redgrave," he said, figuring that it would be best to be as direct in answering the questions he was comfortable with. Threading his fingers together over his crossed knees, Nero waited as Chiaia wrote down what he said onto the pad, repeating his name so as to commit it to memory.
"Nero… hm, a powerful name. Seems your family had high hopes for you when they gave you that name," Chiaia said casually, as she then looked at him once more. Nero simply shrugged, sighing a little as he leaned back and lay down in the cell.
"Yeah well, guess I can't take all the credit. Yours ain't half bad either," Nero responded, eyes following the clouds as he heard Pandora giggle gently within his mind. Chiaia seemed rather pleased with the veiled compliment, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly as the image of the smirking man seemed to ingrain itself into her mind. Brushing it off with once more cooling cheeks, Chiaia then went through a series of other general questions, which both she and the physician had created so as to get as much information as possible out of the man.
"Age?"
"23, almost 24. I'm guessing you're, what? 20? 21?"
"I thought it was impolite to ask a lady her age?"
"Except that wasn't the deal. So, which is it?"
"You're close."
"Tch, that's the best I'm gonna get isn't it?"
"Haha, whatever gave you that impression?"
For nearly an hour they continued the questioning, Nero of course deflecting from any questions that he felt uncomfortable answering, and Chiaia as per their agreement didn't press him. Slowly she in turn began to feel a little more comfortable and less on edge around the white haired man, noting that he had many attractive and good qualities despite his occasional snarky and cavalier attitude. She also made thorough notes for the physician, so as to create a medical file in the case of him developing an illness that required appropriate treatment. At this point keeping him in the cell was more procedure than actual imprisonment, something that Nero had internally agreed to be the smart move on their part.
Physically speaking, Nero was among one of the tallest and well-built people that Chiaia had ever seen. He was taller than her and many of the others on board by five inches at least, weighing in at nearly two-hundred pounds and based on his earlier movements, was a highly trained and proficient fighter. He was obviously incredibly dedicated in keeping his body in peak physical condition it seemed. Yet the levity of the conversation soon vanished with Nero's next words.
"So now that I know who you are, and vice versa, let's cut to the chase here," the white haired demi-devil said briskly with a wave of his hand, his tone firm and unyielding as Chiaia frowned momentarily before she adopted a stern expression.
"You're not from this world are you?" she asked bluntly, her question sounding more akin to a statement than a question. Her emerald eyes narrowed as she ever so silently started reaching towards the sword hidden under the folds of her skirt, never taking her eyes off of the seemingly utterly relaxed person in front of her.
"You could say that, though in this case I'm gonna guess that the portal I shot out of gave that away right off the bat huh?" Nero remarked with a shrug, kicking his feet a little bit as he heard her clothes gently ruffle together as she reached for her weapon. "By the way, it's pretty rude to be reaching for a blade when someone's talking to ya. Especially since I've done nothing to warrant such bad manners. Not yet anyway," he said as he closed his eyes and smirked cockily, hearing the woman stop in her tracks and a slight growl emit from her throat.
"You keep acting like this and I doubt you'll ever find a date Chiaia," Nero teased, causing the woman to sputter and grow flustered as she stepped forward and glared at him through the bars.
"What happened to answering my questions you jerk!?" She asked indignantly, all thoughts of proper procedure and decorum thrown out the window as she grit her teeth at the infuriating smirking Devil Hunter as he simply got to his feet and opened his eyes to gaze down at her.
"Figured I could a have a little fun with it is all," he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest as he then moved towards her. "Not exactly fun to be stuck in a cage and hanging over a thousand foot drop after all," he remarked with a tilt of his head, eyes hard and gauging as Chiaia stopped her scowling and reigned in her temper. "Probably be a lot more agreeable otherwise."
Breathing deeply, the red haired woman gave a small shake of her head, though her eyes remained firm and unflinching as she met the vibrant blue eyes of the taller man once more.
"Perhaps, but you also have to realise that just because you answered my questions and co-operated doesn't mean I'm going to just let you out of here," she said softly, both of them knowing the truth of the matter. She wasn't dealing with some punk kid with a chip on his shoulder who had managed to accident himself onto their world by dumb luck.
No, she was dealing with someone who was well trained, in perfect fighting shape, and who for all intents and purposes was completely alien to her and the inhabitants of the castle. He could likely have enough speed and strength to snap her neck and then attempt a massacre of the entire castle the moment she let him out. She couldn't risk all of their lives, just because she got a little chummy with him and through their conversation admitted and personally felt in this instance that he was perhaps being wrongly imprisoned. It was her job, her one and only duty till the end of her days to protect the castle and the Empress. Even if sometimes it went against some of her more ethical standards.
She wouldn't bet the lives of her friends and crew on a hunch, even if she had stacked the deck immensely in her favor. She was pretty sure Nero knew that too.
Nero sighed as Chiaia remained tight-lipped, her eyes barely able to disguise the genuine apology within. Those emotions only overshadowed by the resolute determination and knowing that she was only doing what she felt was right. Nero then nodded his head, leaning back against the bars while Chiaia turned her head towards the long off horizon as a sense of relief seemed to ease between them.
"Figured as much," he said, shifting his gaze away from Chiaia and gazed out much like she did. Watching in silence as the sun began to sink below the horizon, as the world was soon awash in colors of orange and gold while a gentle wind rushed across the sky. The world appeared as if it were aflame, and Nero was idly reminded of a poem from within his father's old book. It was one of his favourites, and one of his father's as well; based on the small margins written in delicate script beside each line with the greatest of care.
"In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes," he murmured as a small smile graced his lips. Basking in the warmth of the sun, he was reminded of the few times of peace he could share with his family before the devastation in Red Grave. When life had seemed so much simpler then, living his life and hunting demons who threatened the people he loved. It was in this moment of reflection that Chiaia turned to face him, and the beautiful young woman was awed by what she saw.
Nero's hair, its once pale silver locks were now as vibrant flames of gold and pale red. His skin, a deep reddish bronze as he stood before the world and seemed as if he was without a care. Yet it was his smile which stood out the most, warm and full with such utter peace that Chiaia felt drawn to know more.
'What must it have been like, to have earned a smile like that?' she wondered, unaware that the staff were still watching, and many in seething jealousy as they watched Nero turn to face the Dame once again, and offered her that same smile. Each of them cursing their luck, and the fortunate circumstances of the ruby haired woman as she blushed prettily at once more having the man's attention.
"Well then, guess I'm just gonna have to wait a little longer is all," Nero said simply, lowering his arms and then moving towards the far side of the cell to get some rest. His every step seeming to hasten the darkness of night, as at last the final sliver of the sun slipped out of sight and the stars above shone as bright as they did on his own world. Sitting down and crossing his legs, Nero offered Chiaia a two-fingered salute as he seemed to settle himself and it was then that she realised just what she had been doing and how long she had been there.
"You should probably get back to your post Chiaia," he offered with a relaxed grin, leaning back and idly closing his eyes. "And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about our little deal."
Collecting herself, Chiaia seemed to ponder on something before she leaned down and gently retrieved a package that she had placed there while Nero had been busy shadowboxing. Opening it up, she gently grabbed and tossed what was inside at Nero; whose quick reflexes allowed him to catch it without trouble.
Narrowing his eyes at her in annoyance after he had tried in his own way to end the conversation on a decent note, Nero was surprised to find that what Chiaia had thrown at him was his jacket. Yet it wasn't stained by demon blood anymore, and the few cuts and tears that he distinctly remembered appeared to have vanished into thin air. It looked brand new as a matter of fact.
"Our seamstress felt bad about leaving you out here in nothing but a shirt and pants, so she started working on your coat the moment we got it off you," the knight said gracefully, her expression calm and stoic as she turned on her heel and began her trek towards the gate. "Thought you might want it back. Besides, it gets fairly cold out here some nights. It would be such a shame to have our newest guest freeze to death on his first night, wouldn't you agree?"
With a smirk on her lips as she gazed over her shoulder at the white haired man, Chiaia strode into the castle as the stone door sealed shut behind her. All while adding an almost unnoticeable sway to her hips that had certainly not been there before. While Nero, having done his best to not stare at her alluring figure, simply stared at his coat before chuckling to himself and quickly throwing it on as the sounds of the forest came to life under the pale silver moon.
"You know what, I'm starting to think I might like it here."
Nero was awakened a few hours later by the shrill sound of numerous creatures thundering in his ears, jolting upright with a snarl on his lips. "Hey, can't a guy get any decent sleep around here?!" he growled in annoyance, until he was jostled to the side when the ship suddenly started to descend and caused the cage to shake. "That's not a good sign," he muttered, rising to his feet and clutching at the bars as he stared into the sky. Only to watch in disbelief as a giant, black colored mech of some sort flew across the sky and started firing on the castle above with bolts of condensed energy. The again, it wasn't the strangest thing he had ever seen.
"Definitely not good," the white haired man said firmly as he moved away from the bars and after a moment of thought made his decision. "Well, time to go to work guys. Looks like someone started the party and forgot our invitation," he said with a smirk as he raised his left hand over his shoulder, as with a thunderous crash a bolt of lightning erupted from within the cage and engulfed him.
While within the castle, and for miles around, everyone within sight of the area was awed by the blast of blue and golden lightning which streaked across the sky and which drowned out the light of the moon and stars.
Once the lightning bolt vanished from sight, Nero stood tall and now held a massive golden blade in his hand. Lightning danced along its edge as the golden eyes of the dragon head that made up the hilt glowed ominously. Alastor preened in wicked delight at the chance to inflict carnage once again, and the blade seemed to display that same energy as it appeared to shiver in Nero's grasp.
The weapon had changed noticeably since it had come into Nero's possession, with the once gaping mouth of the dragon's head no longer open on either side of the blades edge but more similar to the skulls on Rebellion; with the top of the dragon's skull facing outward with two massive horn that lanced down to form a rudimentary guard over the wielder's wrist and hand. The hilt itself was now scaled and colored a dark blue, as the skulls at the bottom had shifted into those of a dragon which clutched at a spiked golden jewel as the pommel.
Bringing the blade to bear, Nero bent his knees before taking a single swing and cutting through the bars of his cell. Holding the blade aloft Nero grinned wolfishly as a sharp ring echoed in his ears and he felt Alastor's satisfaction at the skill of the strike. Feeling the cage start to buckle from the sudden strain and being unable to support bottom half of the cage, Nero dashed forward and leapt out as the floor gave way and plummeted to the earth below. After he landed in a light crouch, the Descendant of Sparda propped Alastor on his shoulder and turned to glance down over the edge of the catwalk. A single brow raised upward accompanied by a sharp whistle when he heard the crash of the cage as it sheared itself upon the cliff below.
"Damn, that would have been a nasty way to go," he remarked as he then lowered the blade and glanced upwards once more. He could hear the clashing of swords, and Chiaia's voice as she demanded answers from whoever was piloting that black machine. Yet what he also heard was the sound of a third set of giant footsteps, making for the keep while the other two moved further away. Oldest trick in the book, even on other worlds it seemed.
'Are you sure it is wise to throw our lot in with them young Sparda?' Alastor asked cautiously, its eagerness for battle and the chance to be used again tempered by reason. 'For all we know this could be an elaborate scheme to expose us.'
'Don't see why not, besides, I was getting kinda sick of waiting in that damn thing anyway. And if the point was to draw us out, well then I suppose a show is in order,' Nero said with a shrug and a rueful smirk, his hand flexing along the hilt of the sword as his eyes glowed a vibrant amber. 'Besides, somebody's got to deal with the party crasher. Guys like that always know how to bring the mood down.'
Crouching low and coiling his legs, Nero focused all of his strength to his legs as he prepared to jump upwards. Wisps of demonic power whirled around him as he felt the familiar thrill of awakening the Devil within.
"Let's roll!" he roared out in excitement as he felt the change take hold, as his demonic instincts screamed out for carnage and battle once more. So it was with a flash of blue light that a dark-blue blur shot into the sky; draconic wings of pure dark royal blue energy reaching out as if to envelope the whole of the sky and caused their owner to vanish in the blink of an eye at supersonic speeds.
While within the chamber which housed the petrified remains of the Sacred MechaLord, Empress Lashara was gritting her teeth in frustration as the purple and gold Sacred Mechanoid of her attacker swung its massive sword and cleaved the walkway in two. She clutched at her maroon dress in growing desperation, only able to mask her nervousness beneath a hard and thunderous expression carefully crafted over the course of her life as she addressed the Mechanoid pilot. Careful to ensure that her retainer Maryah and Sir Ulyta were kept out of the mech's sights as she stood her ground.
"We wish to know the identity of the one with the gall to attack Us!" She commanded, straightening her back and glaring heatedly at the cockpit of the Sacred Mechanoid in disdain. "We assure you, that if you do this We shall grant you leniency. In that your execution shall be as swift and painless as possible!"
The pilot only laughed, the menacing sound echoing through the mech's speakers as Lashara was astounded to realise that the pilot was a man. A rarity, and all the more troubling for her as it would be next to impossible to justify killing a male Mechamaster due to their need to procreate new generations of pilots. Though in this instance, it nearly for certain alluded as to just who had ordered the attack against her.
"You think I care what you say Empress? No, I came here to kill you, nothing more and nothing less. You represent a problem, one that must be removed permanently if the future of this world is to be ensured," the pilot explained, the callousness and sheer cold detachment of his voice and reasoning sending a terrible chill down Lashara's spine. "Take some solace in this your Highness. With your death, a new age shall be born from the ashes of your sacrifice! One in which WE will rule over all of Geminar!"
The mech in a flash had raised its sword for a final blow, as Lashara froze in panic for the fleetest of moments as her life flashed before her eyes.
"Is this truly the end?" she thought, her imminent demise only seeming to harden her resolve to stand tall as the blade drew closer. "Well then, We shall not allow our end to be that of a coward, but of a warrior who stood and died on her feet for her people!"
She never closed her eyes as the blade consumed her vision, awaiting her end with the dignity and grace expected of one of such noble blood. She smiled instead, confidence brimming within her eyes as she heard the rage fueled growl of the pilot.
Yet what neither expected was for a flash of light to erupt within the room, blinding them both as Lashara felt a pair of powerful arms scoop her up and into a firm chest while a shrill shriek echoed in her ears. It was only after the light had vanished and she noticed that her savior had stopped moving that the young woman realised that she had been the one to make the embarrassing noise.
Blushing lightly, she was startled to find that she was still being held aloft in someone's arms. trying to push down the embarrassment at being in such a position, Lashara then as discretely as possible shifted around to be more comfortable before glancing up towards her rescuer. Her eyes widened when they landed upon just who had saved her, made all the more surreal as the person who greeted her eyes was truthfully the very last person she had expected to see.
While within the cockpit of the Sacred Mechanoid, the pilot, dressed in red and white ceremonial robes and wearing a blank slate gray mask groaned as he righted himself. The odd device composed of numerous interlocking brass colored rods and topped by jewels which glowed in a mixture of red, blue, and green, hummed gently before him, as he grasped the controls and tried to clear his head.
'What the hell was that?' he thought in alarm, grunting as he felt a dull ache in the back of his head as he felt his Sacred Mechanoid lag in response to his commands. 'There wasn't supposed to be any other Mechanoids on board! Let alone something small enough to get in here and then push me away. Nothing should have that kind of strength!'
Looking at his viewscreen, the man was shocked to see that it was in fact a man with pale white hair who had seemingly shoved him aside.
'Impossible! How could he have done this to me!? He's just a human, probably a commoner who can't even read! And now I am forced to fight for my life against someone like him!' the white haired man seemed to be staring at him, before yelling out while still holding Empress Lashara in his arms.
"Hey, Tinman? You alright in there or did I knock a few screws loose when I put you flat on your ass?"
The male pilot only seethed in utter hatred as he growled low in his throat, his hands clenched on the two control rods of the Sacred Mechanoid as his knuckles turned white. In response to his anger the jeweled device glowed brighter, while unbeknownst to both men, the large and ominous figure of the Sacred MechaLord seemed to shift ever so slightly as the remnant demonic power entered its systems.
Nero, unable to hear anything from the mech only continued to glare heatedly at the towering machine, his Devil Trigger having vanished the moment he had entered the keep and leaving him in his human form once again. Alastor was slung across his back as he gently cradled the young blonde woman in his arms, standing on top of a precarious piece of rubble that had collapsed onto the causeway from the enemy Mechanoid's attack. Feeling her shift in his arms, Nero glanced towards her and gave her his most encouraging smile.
"Sorry about that, you alright?" he asked, gently lowering the woman to the ground as he turned to stare at the seemingly frozen Mechanoid while waiting for an answer. Snorting in amusement when he noticed the mech shift ever so slightly, he swiftly retrieved the sword and held the powerful Devil Arm as he would Red Queen. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, as bolts of lightning struck the stone and charred it black as it crackled and sparked with barely contained energy. "Sorry about this, but it looks like this is gonna have to wait a little bit. You mind staying up here for now? You'll just get in the way otherwise," the Devil Hunter said casually, glancing at the still awestruck blonde woman while also keeping his attention on the giant machine.
Lashara did not say a word, but rather as the moonlight pierced the veil of clouds outside the windows which encircled the entire chamber she was dumbstruck. Her heart thundered in her chest as the world seemed to slow, her breath caught in her throat as the man turned towards her with those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes. Lashara clasped her hands together at her chest, and remained utterly silent as her body tried its best to still the sudden passion and desire that had pooled in her belly.
Nero raised a brow as the woman's cheeks flushed a pretty pink, unconcerned for the moment as he at least knew that she was physically fine for now. Turning back towards the towering machine, he tilted his head and sighed.
"Well, guess conversation is out of the question. So, let me take care of this asshole and then we can finally have a little chat. Sound good?"
He didn't wait for a response and simply leapt down and landed in front of the mech, grinning broadly as he placed his right hand in his pocket and propped Alastor on his shoulder.
"Hey, jackass! You gonna say something or am I gonna have to beat that out of you too?" he taunted, smirking in triumph as the mech seemed to start in surprise before a dark growl emanated from the machine.
"How dare you!? Witless cur! I'll kill you for interfering in business that doesn't concern the likes of you!" the pilot roared, raising his sword and discarding the mech's shield as the barrel of some kind of cannon emerged above its fist. Nero just laughed and placed Alastor blade first into the stone, increasing the amount of lightning it generated as it shrieked a piercing noise that echoed through the large chamber.
"Well, well, looks like you're gonna be a little bit of fun after all. It always gets so dull when idiots like you never try and back up your shit-talk," Nero taunted, his stance relaxed and utterly unconcerned as he gently throttled the hilt of Alastor and sneered at the Mechanoid. "On the contrary, seeing as your totally fine just sitting in a metal can opener instead of fighting me head on makes me think this will last all of ten seconds before I get bored. Tsk, tsk, can't believe I got woken up for this, all for some chump who can't even fight for himself."
"Shut up and die you worthless mongrel!"
With a thunderous roar the blade of the Mechanoid was swung downwards once more, only to stop in its tracks as Nero thrust Alastor upward to meet it head on. Much like his fight with Berial nearly five years ago, Nero had no trouble matching the mech's awesome strength with his own. Smirking tauntingly as he raised his right hand and made a "bring it" motion with his hand.
"Now come on, let's get this party started!" he yelled out as he grabbed Alastor with both hands and effortlessly parried the Mechanoid's swing and sent it careening backwards into the wall. The room trembled from the crash of the large machine, yet Nero stayed upright with little trouble as he propped Alastor on his shoulder again. Glancing up towards the rubble, the Devil Hunter noticed how the young woman was still standing there and continuing to stare at him.
"Hey! You might want to grab them and go! Things are gonna get crazy!" he warned, before the sound of the mech's joints groaning in exertion echoed through the massive chamber. Grinning broadly, Nero dashed forward and jumped high into the air; pouring demonic power into Alastor as it glowed an electric blue as he then swung downwards and unleashed a condensed blade of lighting at the visibly stunned mech. The pilot raised its arm to try and defend, however due to the presence of the Sacred MechaLord directly in the center of the room it had little room to maneuver as effectively as it normally would. This forced it to try and take the attack head on, a mistake that would be witnessed by its pilot all too soon.
"Is that all you got? Come on, I actually expected a little bit of challenge before I ended up kicking your ass!" the white haired Devil Hunter taunted arrogantly, landing on his feet as the wave smashed into the mech's shoulder and severed the left arm in a screech of metal and a thunderous explosion of sound and energy. Spinning Alastor in his hand, Nero glanced at the weapon before whistling in appreciation at the sight of the carnage.
"Well whaddya know? Looks like I don't know my own strength," he said as he rotated his right shoulder and then danced on the balls of his feet. "Hey, you still kicking in there or am I gonna have to find a new dance partner for this little bash?" he taunted, raising his right hand and flaring it outward as if asking for a dance.
"Da-Damn…! Damn YOU!" the mech roared as it shot to its feet and fired a blast at Nero from its wrist blaster, discarding the sword entirely as it tried to blast him into oblivion. Nero idly stepped to the side to dodge, continuing to do so and using his Table Hopper as he vanished in bursts of sheer speed. And subsequently causing the mech to grow more erratic and panicked in its attacks.
"Come on man, at least make it interesting. I'm dying of boredom over here!" Nero mocked, flipping over a blast and pointing at the mech with Alastor before he then used the blade to deflect a blast that came too close. "Whoo! That's it, come on! Place your bets, cause it's showtime!" the Son of Vergil taunted as he leapt back and forth, drawing closer to the Mechanoid before leaping into the air with his monstrous strength and slashing at the machine's left leg.
Alastor cleaved through the steel as if it weren't even there, the sheering sound of metal echoing out as Nero then kicked off of the stump of the leg and higher into the air. Bringing the sword high over his head, Nero felt his face morph into a harsh scowl as he covered the blade in his demonic power. The golden blade was soon bathed in royal blue energy, as he prepared his ultimate attack, and he could almost hear the urgent cries of his inner Devil as they joined as one.
While on his back, his wings of demonic power, the symbol of his fully realised Devil Trigger, emerged as well. Yet unlike their normally almost feathered and angelic appearance, these were more suited to a dragon, leathery skin and clawed with a terrifying hook like blade as the familiar spectre that had once been the body of his Trigger manifested behind him.
"Tides turnin'," he said, his voice echoing as it took on a more demonic quality. Angling the blade ever so slightly, Nero flashed into his Trigger for but a few seconds as he roared out his attack.
"SHOWDOWN!"
In a flurry of vicious and precise strikes, Nero carved into the body of the Mechanoid with ease. Parts and limbs were severed and cascaded in a mess of metal and crystal. While the machine itself started to look more akin to a scrap pile, with barely the semblance of a shape to it as it was slammed into the wall with the force of a bomb. It blasted through the stone and flew through the air for almost fifty feet before crashing down into the dirt, carving through the earth and rock that made up part of the island as the numerous blades of demonic energy that had ripped through its armor like paper vanished without a trace.
Landing on the ground, Nero quickly deactivated his Trigger; growling as a feeling of fatigue settled into his gut. He ignored it however, and strode forth, propping Alastor on his shoulder once again and unaware that the security feed throughout the castle had witnessed and broadcast to the majority of the crew just what he had done.
None more so than Chiaia, who had heard Nero's fight and bore witness to most of the commotion and had tried to unsuccessfully disengage from fighting the Black Sacred Mechanoid in order to protect the Empress. Gritting her teeth, Chiaia was sweating heavily as she forced her pink and red Mechanoid to stand, thrusting its massive broadsword into the earth to act as a temporary crutch.
"Damn she's good!" she cursed, breathing heavily as the toll of piloting her Mechanoid for so long caused her body to shiver and her heart to race. "If I don't finish this quickly, who knows what could happen to Lashara or the Swan. I have to get past her, make a break for the hangar and see if Wahanly has anything ready."
Glancing out the corner of her eye, Chiaia hissed in annoyance as she saw the other Mechanoid start to rise into the air despite the damage it had suffered. "How the hell can she still pilot that thing?" she muttered, watching as her HUD zoomed in on Nero, casually standing on the grass in front of the castle and staring at the flying chassis of the Mechanoid.
"And how was he able to do any of that?!"
Nero had a rather bored look on his face, tucking his hand into his pocket once more as he stared impassively at the floating hunk of metal before him, scoffing in annoyance as he sheathed Alastor across his back and shook his head.
"Man, when I asked for a fight I was kinda expecting something more," he lamented tauntingly, pacing side to side as the Mechanoid groaned and shrieked as its body tried to stop itself from falling apart. "I mean come on man! First you had be such an asshole to go and wake me up in the middle of the night, and then, when I finally get to blow off some steam… all I get, is some jackass holed up inside a tin can that rips apart like wet tissue paper whenever I graze it!" Nero said indignantly, his annoyance at the whole situation rearing its head as his blood surged to continue to fight.
The pilot, for once, did not rise to the bait and instead simply rose into the air and flying far into the horizon and away from the island. A few moments later, the large black colored mech from earlier followed soon after; streaking through the air and swiftly grabbing the flying torso of the other one and speeding away and out of sight.
Nero was so surprised by this that he decided to just let it be, figuring it would do him no good to chase after it in the middle of the night anyway. Glancing off to the side however, Nero was surprised to see the now mostly liquid remains of the machine's dismembered parts. Striding over, Nero deftly reached down and grabbed a relatively intact piece of armor and tossed it up and down in his hands for a few moments.
"For taking such a beating, it held out pretty good considering I used Showdown," he mused to himself, figuring that Nico would love to get her hands on some of this alongside some Gilgamesh to make a pretty rad weapon when he got home. During his musing, he also noted some things that were rather peculiar about the metal itself.
It was cool to the touch despite having been blasted and scorched by his lightning, and the weight was surprising as even with his demonic strength he did not expect it to feel so light. Indeed despite the thrashing he gave the machine, it probably had more to do with where he was aiming as opposed to what he made contact with. You aim at any structural weak points on a machine, and chances are it wasn't going to look pretty afterwards.
However, his biggest surprise came when the piece started to glow along with his right arm; watching as the armor liquefied and transformed into dark purple energy which was absorbed into his body. Feeling some of his strength return to him, Nero also noted how he for some reason just felt more durable and hardened after he'd absorbed the armor. Smirking, Nero realised that, like it had done originally, it seemed his demonic blood was prone to acquiring new abilities whenever the opportunity arose.
"Well look at that, seems like I'm getting a souvenir after all," he chuckled, flexing his fingers and noting how they momentarily flashed into his Trigger. He grinned widely when he noticed the armored plating over his forearm and knuckles that was a darker purple color as opposed to the mixture of green and blue it normally was. "Sweet."
However, Nero would not have long to relish in the new skill when he heard the frantic stride of someone sprinting towards him. Turning his head, Nero saw Chiaia, now clad in a form-fitting red and dark pink bodysuit which left next to nothing to the imagination running at him with a fearsome look on her face. He felt his face morph into an expression of confusion for a moment, before he decided to let it be and then relaxed once more.
Nero simply waved at her, tucking his hands into his pockets and waiting patiently as she got close. What he had not expected was for her to draw a golden hilted shortsword from her waist and then slash at him the moment she was within range.
"Woah! This the way you people say thanks for saving your ass?!" the young Devil asked incredulously, deftly dodging away and staying well out of the woman's reach as she continued to attack him. However, he noted that the attacks lacked the same ferocity and seemed more gauging than anything else. So, following his gut, Nero stepped within her guard and wrapped a hand around her wrist. In a single move Nero managed to disarm her, and then thinking quickly drew her into his arms and locked her body in his grip as his enhanced demonic strength would be sure to keep her restrained.
Chiaia, as Nero sort of expected, instinctively thrashed about in his arms. Throwing her head backwards to try and most likely smash into and break his nose, but Nero was quick enough to dodge her strikes and slowly increased his strength. Soon enough Chiaia stopped trying to smash the back of her skull into his face, so Nero figured she had simmered down enough to talk things out.
"Ok lady, now that you've calmed down a little do you mind telling me just what the hell has you so worked up?" he growled, focusing more on the struggle and driving down his instincts at the feel of her body against his own. Made all the more difficult by the apparently latex body suit she was wearing! God sometimes he really hated having fully awakened his Devil blood.
"How did you do that?! How were you able to fight a Mechanoid like that!?" she asked in almost sheer panic, initially still struggling to free herself before she slowly calmed down. "No one should have been able to rip a Sacred Mechanoid apart like that, and all you used was a sword! No regular human can do that! Nobody can!"
For a moment, all was silent as Nero seemed to think about the question before he seemed to come to a decision. Shifting his grip, and allowing his inner demon to have its piece said, Nero spoke.
"Whoever said, I was fully human?" Nero asked rhetorically, his words slowly lowering in pitch until they reached a demonic growl which was murmured into her ear as he lowered his head. Nero also flexed the single arm he had used to trap her, to further drive home the point to Chiaia that she was dealing with something that she perhaps did not fully understand.
Chiaia would instead, go on to deny profusely to anyone who asked her that the interaction that had occurred moments ago had not caused her to both blush and briefly imagine what it would feel like to be carried in that same grip for months to come. Denials that would always result in knowing looks and snickers from all of her peers.
Nero, completely unaware of the future teasing he had unwittingly initiated, continued talking as he felt Chiaia relax more heavily into his hold. "Considering I've known you for all of six or seven hours or so, and most of those were me trying to sleep, I think I can be forgiven in not telling you every damn thing about me. Does that make sense to you now, or do you need to cool off some more?"
Slowly taking a deep breath, Chiaia nodded her head and remained perfectly still as Nero released his hold on her and stepped back. His gaze was cautious, but it soon relaxed into its normal near perpetual scowl as he kicked up the shortsword and examined it in detail.
He quirked a brow at its construction, feeling its weight and balance as he quickly and expertly tossed and flipped the blade around in his left hand. Finishing by giving it a little twirl on his finger, Nero grabbed the hilt and then offered it to Chiaia and did not resist when she deftly plucked it from his grip.
"Nice blade you got there, pretty pricey too if the steel is as good as I think it is," he complimented plainly, moving to stand in front of the red haired woman as she sheathed the blade and then turned to focus her gaze on him again. "Now then, considering everything that just happened, I think it might be best if we had this discussion inside. With everyone who needs to be involved."
"Agreed-"
"On one condition."
Chiaia, seemingly startled by being interrupted nodded again and tried to keep her eyes open as the fatigue from piloting her Mechanoid really started to take its toll. "Go on," she said as firmly as she could, able to mask if only barely the strain she was under.
"I keep everything as need to know. I say something should be left alone, then it's going to be left. The. Hell. Alone. No exceptions. Other than that, considering what happened tonight and knowing my luck… I'll tell you everything you need to get you and whoever's in charge of this place up to speed."
Chiaia actually smiled faintly, the man's tone and words reminding her of someone she had met a long time ago. The man who had started her training, and who, oddly enough had the same shade of snow-white hair as her former prisoner.
"Deal. Now come on, I need to see the Empress and make sure she's alright after nearly getting caught in the crossfire of your battle."
Nero suddenly stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly before he quickly moved in front of Chiaia and started speaking.
"Wait, she wouldn't happen to be around your height, blond with drill-like twintails, and in a maroon and white dress would she?"
"Yes. How do you know that?" Chiaia asked in confusion, having assumed that the Empress had not been involved with fight and had quickly taken cover. At the look on Nero's face however, she felt her throat tighten and her pulse quicken with worry as she realised that maybe there had been more to the fight than she initially thought.
Nero sighed and threw his hands into the air before shoving them into his pockets with a little more force than was normal. "Great, not even here a day and already I'm nearly an accessory to a regicide. Also, to answer your question; she nearly got crushed so I jumped in and saved her. Made sure she got out of the way and then I kicked that walking tin can's ass into next week."
Chiaia visibly sighed with relief as she heard Nero's explanation, yet she stumbled slightly as the exhaustion of fighting the Black Mechanoid reared its head. Nero was almost instantly at her side, a hand gently holding onto her arm as he guided her forward and allowed her the chance to catch her breath.
"Come on, let's go and see this Empress of yours. Need to properly introduce myself, instead of her only impression of me being me throwing a giant robot through her castle wall. Last thing I need is to be stuck with the bill to fox this place.
The two remained silent as they made their way into the castle, as Nero for once wondered if this was how Dante had felt so long ago when he had to reveal the truth of who he was to the people he met. To open their eyes to the horrors of the world that for as long as they had known were nothing but fiction and folklore? Shaking his head, Nero said nothing as he was guided by Chiaia into the throne room figuring that knowing his luck… things were going to get absolutely fucking crazy, before they became normal again.
An eager and confident smirk soon grew on his face as the thought of it all settled in his gut, the beast within almost crooning in delight at the mayhem and battels to come.
'Looks like it's gonna be one hell of a party!'