It is strange how the dim, empty room seems to twist all sense of distance. It appears unbelievably wide, and yet makes one feel uncomfortably pressed. The candles placed in its center faintly lit the faces of the men in the room, their features unclear and indistinct.
All except one.
Without much of a care for the other occupant he exhaled, releasing tobacco smoke of a distinct scent. One of the other three, an old man short but straight-backed, swatted the vapor away.
Eyeing the smoker very carefully, he began.
"So... 'They' are also involved?"
Rocco Belfaban, the head of the Department of Summoning who is said to have held this position for over fifty years, though no one is certain, asked.
To his horror his inquiry was answered with a nod.
"RIDICULOUS!"
A younger man, handsome and with red hair, raised his voice.
"I witnessed the battle for myself! That thing should not be allowed to exist... And now you're telling me that 'they' are entering the fray!?"
There was a strong sense of duty in his words. One could easily discern that he is a member of the elite from his strong highminded gaze and refined features.
His name is Bram Nuada-De Sophia-Ri, the successor of the head of the Department of Evocation, and one of the first-class instructors employed by the Clock Tower.
"Calm yourself." The last man with loose long hair, furrowing his brows in seeming displeasure, commanded.
Lighting the cigar in his hand with the candle's flame, the man called El-Melloi the second shook his head slowly from side to side.
"I assume 'their' participation is the byproduct of the activation of the [Grail's] backup system?"
"For the ones that comes from 'above' that is. You can never really know what the ones from 'bellow' are up to, maybe it is nothing more than coincidence."
The cigar smoker, an African-American man perhaps in his 50s or 60s, finally spoke. His second revelation further aggravating his 'costumer'.
"...This can't be..." Bram Nuada-De Sophia-Ri muttered in disbelief
"[Demons] and [Angels]... Now of all times... Fucking hell." El-Melloi II cursed.
In contrast Rocco Belfabam managed to retain his composure, but he too in truth was anxious in regards of this development.
"And you are sure that your claims are credible?"
"As they've always been. And need I remind you of the last time the [Clock Tower] shrug off my warning?"
"...We must contact 'him' immediately then..."
"That's impossible. As of yesterday the professor of the [13th faculty = Department of Outer Studies, have taken an extended absence of leave..."
"...The reason being?"
El-Melloi took a huff of his cigar. Even after exhuming it took him a few more seconds before he reposte.
"Family vacation. And judging by how much he rant about it there's now way the wife is going to cut it short unless it's the end of the world."
"What about the twins?"
"They're with them." This time, it was the broker who answered. "Their hands are tied just like their father's."
"...I see..."
"...We have no choice then? We have to... call upon her... The [Umbra Witch]..."
Chill ran up to all men present, although Bram's suggestion does indeed seems to be the only choice left it doesn't make it any less pleasant. Dealing with her is almost as risky as dealing with [The old man of Kaleidoscope].
And she's even more demanding than he is.
"Now-now. I get that things seems bleak, but there's no need to bust out the big guns just yet."
"So you've also come with a solution? Morrison?"
The broker, now named Morrison, smirked.
"More like a machinations to buy us some time, really. Though if we are lucky enough they'll be able to wrap things up albeit roughly..."
"And the Church? We must obtain their involvement in this war by any means
necessary to let all know of our legitimacy."
"Trust me, they are already aware of this turn of events even before I do. Hence, my proposal is as the following:
I'll send in some guys who already had a run in with the Church's lackeys, therefore both sides will be aware of what the other is up to. That way neither will but in on their respective 'matters'.
Now all that's left is justification..."
Bram picked up his discreet message.
"You want us to appoint the one who you will hire as a master..."
Morrison only shrugged.
"He's far stronger than the average human, plus he can stood his own ground against a [Servant]. If you add him in as one of your own I'd be killing two birds with one stone, rouge magi, demons, and angels alike."
All three of them remained silent. Just as he had professed, this course of action is indeed the best. But to appoint an outsider as their representative, and a [Hunter] at that. Needless to say the clock tower's pride will not come out intact.
"...The risks are a tad too much for vanity this time around, don't you think? And you could always spun whatever tales you want about this whole thing anyway. Perhaps a [Devil Hunter] who just happen to ran across a stray servant while doing his job?"
With a weak nod Rocco Belfabam relented, being followed by El-Melloi who finishes up with the detail.
"We still need to bring in the professionals from the outside to fill up the numbers. This Holy Grail War is on an utterly different scale from the ones we have experienced so far. The Clock Tower must still provide at least one or two magi, of course."
"Then we shall begin gathering the ones whom we feel best for the situation. We will await the Church for further information regarding their 'representation' so we only need to find five more candidates."
"In that case, I will make the selection regarding the holy relics. Time is not on our side, but it should be possible to gather catalysts which will give us strength on par with the enemy's."
Hearing Bram's words, Belfaban struck the stone floor with his rod as he announced.
"This is completely unlike all the imitations of the Holy Grail War rituals of our time. In scale alone, it is beyond the Grail War which took place thrice in Fuyuki. We must brace ourselves for what will come. Let them fully regret sullying the name of the Clock Tower."
Without another glance at one another, the four men each left the room in separate ways.
"I couldn't care less about that." was what he thought about the old man's, although he was only a tad younger, last word. For during the whole span of his career, and by extension his life, J.D Morrison remained alive by putting survival above pride.
Finished with his cigar he threw what's left to the floor, fishing out a cellphone from his pocket. Such action would be frowned upon in a place like this, but in this case it's not because he did so in a populace of anti-technologist.
It was because the phone, oozing an unearthly air and possessing an alien design, is not something that should be used in a place occupied by humans.
"It's me. Quick question, how long will it take for you to get to London?"
XxX
Voidwalker77 present
Fate/Rubeus/Ater
Chapter One: The Job
XxX
"So my task is the same as always."
"Yes. Our readings indicate that they have already made the [Fall]. And in a quite large number at that, there's even a [Valiance] among them..."
"I see. That is indeed unsettling. And the nearby Church, have they already been wiped out?"
"Highly unlikely. We believe that it was the YGGDMILLENIA who cut off any means of communication to prevent information leakage."
It was a conversation taking place in a confessional. Inverted in its current use however it was the priest who relayed the information, and the listener is most definitely not a penitents.
"More importantly, this job is related to the so called [Great Holy Grail War] Isn't it? One where the [Servant Ruler's] is present as a mediator?"
"Yes. So I assume that you know the nature of this endeavor."
"...Very much so. And the place?"
"The city of Trifas, now completely under the [Black Faction's] control."
"[Black Faction]?"
"Yes. That is the name of faction opposing the [Clock Tower] spearheaded by the seven masters of [YGGDMILLENIA]. While the magi that is sent by the former are dubbed the [Red Faction]. Is something the matter?"
"Quite. I find their naming to be quite discourteous, especially for the minorities in the united states. Black and Red..."
While his analogy is not far fetched one could only make such connections if he assume the name has a hidden meaning. Simply put it was nothing more than an opinion that is neither correct or wrong at the same time.
"Ah, do forgive me for getting off track. So the summoned Ruler, I am to act as his or her chaperone?"
"If the summoned [Ruler] is really a saint, then their first priority would be to eliminate him or her."
"Then it all adds up, they hate saints almost as much as they hate me. And what about those three? They are indirectly involved in this just like I am, or am I as to act as the scout as well?"
"I am also to inform you that that role has already been assigned. Temperance-dono is already in Trifas, and you are to rendevous with her once you obtain Ruler's cooperation.
Levi-dono and Martha-dono are also given tasks of their own, but will re-join you as soon as they accomplish their mission. I believe that is all that you need to hear?"
"Just one more question. The Church is paying for all of my travel expenses just like always aren't they?"
"...Yes. We have already purchase your plane tickets, the rest of the remittance will be discussed after the matter is settled."
"That's when the real fight start then."
"Ah, please forgive my insolence. It's not that I doubt your goodwill, but money is integral even for me you see."
To his surprise the priest chuckled. "I do understand it, actually. No matter how much charity you have you can't trade it with a piece of bread."
"We have capitalism to thanks for that."
"Indeed. That is all that I was told to inform, would it suffice?"
"More than you thought father, do please pray for my success."
This time the priest let out a laugh. "I never thought that I would ever heard 'that' from someone like you..."
"A little luck goes a long way. And just because we do not share the same religion doesn't make your prayer any less effective."
"I sure do hope so. Then, I shall pray you luck Michaelangelo."
"You are mistaken. It's Michael Di Angelo."
"My mistake. May god be with you, and may his flame light your path."
"...This might be rude of me to say. But you really are the coolest clergy I've ever met."
"I take that as a compliment, I really do."
"That's a relief. Thank you father and have a good day." With that he left the confession booth, his earlier exchange fated to be buried as another biblical confession.
Michael is a brick red haired young man enjoying his adolescence to it's fullest, though his sense of clothing and array of hobby mislead others to think that he was one of those people who are 'born old'.
'What's wrong with carpentry and wearing suspender?' He often asks, the young lad will never understand. But the comments that he look and act like a gentleman gangster was something that he received all around.
Parked outside the church was one of the few prized possessions he actually valued, a 1974 mint-condition Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado, painted in the same shade of his hair.
The irony escaped him and only him.
"The Church did say that they're going to pay for everything, hopefully that also include getting you to Romania..."
He affectionately rubbed the hood as he said so, getting on the driver seat and started the engine. Scarlet, as he called her, roared to life. A pleased smirk now adoring the young man, he really do have a soft spot for such trivialities.
Driving away he sent one last glance at the Church's courtyard, a statue of the archangel Michael erected right at its very center.
"I wonder how everyone will react if they know..." He shook his head, while 'she' is indeed technically 'him' his mother by all means was not the first, hence there was nothing wrong with everyone's perspective of viewing the angel Michael as a male.
"Things really are weird 'up there'." He was not allowed to share such information to others except a very select view to avoid scandal among other things. It does provide a private source of humour though.
"Oh, well. Wish me luck then Mother, you're probably watching right now anyway..."
Following those words he drove away with the airport as his destination, and method of transporting his car across the ocean as his main concern.
XxX
"So are you going to give me a job or what?"
Teenagers. This person in the room of Rocco Belfaban, the head of the Department of Summoning at the Clock Tower, most certainly dress and act like one. Gothic, so he believed his style is called.
"We'll get to that in a second. But first, do you know of the [Holy Grail W...]"
"Don't know. Don't care."
Teenagers. The department head sighed. Sensing this the teen clicked his tongue. A young man who is juvenile incarnate, despite having his right arm on a sling not one man alive would dare to antagonize him without a second thought.
"Look old man, we both know that I'm not a magus and what kind of 'problems' I'm paid to deal with. So why don't we just skip to the part where you tell me what is it that I'm supposed to kill?"
"...Very well. To keep it short it has come to our concern that forces from [Below] may be involving themselves in a particular ritual called the [Holy Grail War]."
"And you want me to put a stop to the whole thing?"
"On the contrary. Your task is to ensure that 'they' will not intervene during the course of the war, for in this occasion our very participation is integral.
A rebellion of sort have taken place in Trifas, and we must personally crush them to ensure that this mutiny will never again happen in the far future."
The teen raised an eyebrow. "So if this whole thing is really important for you guys then why hire me? If words got out it'd be bad for your rep."
He was caught of guard by the display of insight, but nonetheless quickly recovered.
"Why yes. But we have seen first hand what the enemy is capable off. And while we as Magus are prideful being prepared is also something that we have etched to our existence."
"And here I thought you were going to say looking down on everyone else." the younger man quipped. "But if it's really that big of a deal why bother telling me this?"
"See that's the thing. We must win by any means necessary. In fact only another one of the master is a full fledged Magus while the rest of them are freelancer..."
"...Where are you getting at?"
"We had sent fifty specialized hunters, the magus variant that is, in an assault. But only one returned alive."
Now he was interested. "And it wasn't a demon that got to them?"
"No. It was a [Servant] that decimated them, the highest ranked and strongest of all spirit based familiar."
"And you want me to terminate this servants as a side job?"
"Not as a side job. You see a servant could only be summoned by a Master, a participant of the war chosen by the grail. To gain the right as a master however is not that difficult, one simply need to get hold of a [Command Seal] either by receiving it directly from the grail or taking another master's by force..."
Belfaban trailed off. He then took out an ebony case from the desk's drawer, opening it carefully—inside is a piece of wood with signs of having been worked on. He followed suit by pulling out a briefcase filled with you know what before continuing his exposition.
"All that's left is to summon the servant. But because demons are involved things have become quite turbulent. The worst case is, the intelligent demons would aim for the master and steal the servants. Do you understand what I'm saying...?"
"...Guess Dante was wrong after all. You guys do know how to have fun."
The teen grabbed the piece of wood, tossing it upward like a ball.
"This thing's going to help me get a servant, is that it?"
"A catalyst. By using this during a summoning ritual you will call upon a specific heroic spirit."
"Neat. So who does this belong to? Is this a splinter of captain hook's peg-leg?"
"No, though we do have his hook. That is a piece of a table, a round table to be exact."
The teen's expression darkened, seconds later he clicked his tongue again.
"Sorry to burst your bubble old man but I don't think I could get along with goody two shoes noble knights. I should know, my brother was one."
There was no use in teaming up with a strong person if they can't get along, he know that much.
"No need to fret. This is an example of a group catalyst you see, so while it will allow you to summon a knight of the round it will call forth a knight whose nature is similar to your own."
"...Alright. But I want my payment up front, at least the half of it."
Belfabam tapped the briefcase in response, enough said. Without a care he grabbed said baggage and bolted out of the room, his so called catalyst now resting inside his jacket's pocket.
As he stride through the halls glances and glares were sent his way. He paid it no heed though the treatment do greatly annoyed him, soon enough he quickened his pace hoping to get out before anything else happens.
That's when he realize he jinxed it.
"Shit..." He lowly muttered under his breath. Not because he doesn't want to sound rude, but because he was afraid that 'he' would hear him.
A male only a year or two older than the teen. His wardrobe was definitely not something that a resident of this place would appreciate, but the three girls he's flirting with certainly didn't care. For as always good looks and charm prevailed over all.
Turning around the teen raised his hood in the hopes of escaping unnoticed, but his wish instead became his downfall.
"Nero!? Is that you!?"
Stopping in his track because he know better, said teen let out a defeated sigh as he turned around.
Nero was tempted to try and bolt away while he was busy wrapping things up with the girls, but experience dictates that escaping him (at least in his current state) is neigh impossible. So he opted to face the inevitable like a man.
Cocky and arrogant as the many male magus brand him, while the female population view his antics as bold and adventurous. Regardless of how others view him Dante Sparda will never cease to be Nero's bane of existence.
"What do you want Dante?"
"BRRR! So cold!? Is that how you treat an old friend? I thought we're practically brothers?"
Dante Sparda was the youngest of the Sparda twins. A rarity among rarities he is half of the entire population of Nephilim, a hybrid between an Angel and a Demon.
"Yeah you're a real brother figure alright, Only because you never stop 'bothering' me."
"Hah! You should really let V handle the puns, you're not very good at it..."
"Whatever. Make this quick because unlike you I've got a job to do." Nero gestured at the briefcase.
"You mean the one you only get because Vergil and I got dragged away on a vacation. Who do you think called Morrison in the first place?"
"Whatever, your loss is my gain. So what is it that you want to say?"
"Not much, just watch out for a bit okay. I got a bad feeling about this and Mom wouldn't listen."
As irresponsible as he is Dante's sixth sense, or his gut feeling, is one of his traits that has already exceeded his father's. Nero is not dumb enough to just shrug it off due to personal bias.
"Is that all? Cause I got deposits to make and a plane to catch." He has no intention of admitting so out loud of course.
'Not to mention Servant to summon...'
"Yeah, that's about it. You know, maybe you and your friends can catch up with us by the time you're done. We're going to Japan, a city named Fuyuki or something. Dad's got a demon sword-smith who'd be willing to sell Katana for cheap!"
"Isn't that Vergil's thing."
"It is. You should have seen him geeking out. Going on and on about this one dude named... Masamune I think?"
"Muramasa actually." A new voice chirped in. "The legendary hermit whose sword is rumored to be capable of severing fate itself..."
To those who are unfamiliar with the Sparda family, it would be as if another Dante had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. One that is much more refined and composed compared to the first.
"Tsumugari Muramasa. Perhaps that mythical construct is the basis of my Yamato..."
"What did I tell you, geeking out. Can't you save it until we at least get there Verg?"
Vergil Sparda, Dante's older brother and the elder of the Sparda twins. Unlike his younger counterpart the Clock tower tolerate him more due to his urbane upbringing and elegant behavior. A fact that he constantly rub against his sibling's face.
If Dante was an inferno of unpredictability, then Vergil is a swift and focused gale. The analogy was a perfect comparison of the two brothers.
"Sorry little brother, but I simply cannot contain my excitement. Although perhaps you can benefit from listening to Japanese folklore. Their stories often promote discipline, something that you are clearly in desperate need off..."
Nero sighed, here we go again.
"Oh really? Last time I check I'm not the one falling behind our tabs. What was the score again me 1348 victories and you 1347?"
"When did you learn to count? We're even."
"Sure~ sure~. Well even IF, and that's a really big if, we're even... I got a feeling that it won't stay that way for long..."
"Is that so? Then do please elaborate more little brother..."
Dante didn't reply and instead 'flicked his switch'. The change might be unnoticeable, but tread close enough and one can physically feel the heavy air surrounding the three.
Any normal human would instantly be crushed should they come too close.
Vergil with a condescending smile, a white Katana suddenly appearing on his hip.
Dante with a patronizing leer, a hellish great-sword now strapped on his back.
And Nero who gives zero fucks and has zero time for this shit.
"Look. I don't give two shits about whatever sibling rivalry you have, but I'm inclined to remind the both of you that I am to contact Eva immediately if you retards decide to continue..."
To add an emphasis Nero pulled out his phone, the the boys' mother contact displayed on its screen.
(record scratch)
"Okay now! Calm down! No need to do that!"
"Dante's right. We might have been caught in the moment. But I assure you, we are now perfectly calm."
That was good enough for him. And there's no way he's sticking around any longer.
"See you morons around then. Hopefully not anytime soon."
The twins took no offense to his crude language, that's just the way he is.
"Happy hunting!" "Have a pleasant trip." Dante and Vergil wished respectively.
Watching the teen's retreating back the younger Nephilim folded his arms. A storm is brewing on the horizon and for once his family is not at its very center. He's not sure how exactly he's supposed to feel about that.
"You really think he can handle it?"
"Alone? Most definitely not. But that's about to change soon enough... With that said however, there is no use in pondering it too much."
Dante could only sighed, his brother is right. Getting worked up about stuff that may or may not happen is a waste of time.
"We better get a move on. Mom's not gonna be happy if we got to the airport late."
"Indeed."
XxX
He didn't understand why he was lying on the ground here, why he couldn't even lift a finger and why his eyes were filled with tears from overflowing pain.
Such a nightmare couldn't be.
Such despair was impossible.
He should have been participating in the Great Holy Grail War as a magus and as a member of Yggdmillennia.
He had chosen a catalyst he was confident in. He had gotten a hold of knives that had actually been used by Jack the Ripper through his channels as a magus, and had proceeded to summon him in the Shinjuku district in Tokyo.
He was to control the Servant who most specialized in killing Masters—Assassin—in order to perform stealthy maneuvers in the war. That should have been the duty of the Black Master, Sagara Hyouma.
"So that's a servant? HAH! And those stupid mages says that they're the strongest of familiar! I can take her out no sweat!"
The bird, the one who paralyzed him with a conjured lightning bolt, boasted. It was an unknown summoned beast roughly the size of hawk with dark blue plumage. Already shocking enough that it is capable of speech, but to gloat that it can fight a servant...
And for whatever reason, Sagara believed that it wasn't an empty threat.
"We are not here for a fight [Griffon]." The summoner stated. "Strictly a parlay with our little friend here..."
His attacker, a slender and pale young man that you can almost call sickish, silenced the avian. He gave of an air of eerie and mystery, complete with black tattoos covering his upper body up to his neck.
Facing him and taking the form of a little girl in a bondage outfit, Jack the ripper or rather Assassin of black stood defensively in front of a woman with brandished knives.
The woman she is protecting is Rikudo Reika. She was the start of how everything had failed.
When he had tried to use her as a sacrifice (to be precise, he had tried to reproduce Jack the Ripper's crimes in order to maximize the summoning's chances of success), but she had displayed greater resistance than he had expected.
Because she had refused to be killed, the summoned Servant ended up choosing not him, but Reika, as her Master.
The next second 'he' came in, and before he knew it Sagara was struck down.
"...Who are you?" She asked with a sharpness unbefitting of a little girl.
The mysterious one smiled. "I have no name... I am but two days old."
"Reciting poems at a time like this? Geez, why don't you summon Shakespeare while you're at it? I'm sure you two will get along just fine." Griffon chided, and his master scolds him for not getting his priority straight.
Said master ignored his familiar, and continued his stride whlist further intonating.
"My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast."
With every syllable he grows nearer, and with every line Assassin lowered her guard. He was only a step away by the time he had finished, crouching and offering his arm towards the little girl.
"...You're like me..." Assassin stated aloud as she reached out to him. Grabbing his slender fingers with her own.
"Hah! Sorry to burst your bubble girl but you're nothing like him! He's a nasty piece of work that's what he is! A living walking pile of fuc... Ouch!"
Before the avian can let out any vanity his master thwack him on the beak with his sword-cane's handle.
"Language Griffon, we are in the presence of a young lady..." He then returned his gaze towards Assassin.
"My name is Edward Blake. But my friends calls me V."
"That's a weird nickname."
V chuckled to Jack's comment. "It indeed is, but it sticks for better or worse."
The little Assassin obediently nodded, she then turned towards Griffon.
"Hey-hey, big brother V! Is he your parrot?"
V's shock of being called big brother was eclipsed by Griffon's protest.
"Parrot!? PARROT!? Are you blind or something!? Do I look like a parrot to you!?"
"But you're a bird, and you talk. The only bird that talks is a parrot, right?" She tilted her head innocently, Had it not for the murderous air around her anyone would have mistaken her as a little girl.
"Her logic is sound it seems..." V agreed while chuckling.
"Oh screw you! I'm out!" Just like he claimed the avian vanished in a puff of black smoke.
"Aw... Mr. Parrot is gone..." Jack pouted.
"No need to fret little one. I have more friends that you can greet."
Sagara couldn't believe what happened next. A panther, with much more darker fur than normal, came into existence by crawling out of V's shadow.
"It's a cat! A really big cat!" Jack excitedly identified.
"This is shadow. He is one of my three 'friends' along with Griffon..."
"You have another one!? Can I please see him too, big brother V!?"
Sadly he shook his head. "My other friend is a... shy one, he doesn't like to be seen by too many eyes at once."
"Aw~"
Sensing her disappointment shadow approached the little girl, rubbing his snout against her head like a cat would to a human.
"he-he~" Like a child would she quickly forgot about her earlier sadness.
She played with the panther's snout and pet him without a hint of fear, and in response shadow licked the girl's cheek as if it was a tame tabby cat.
"I have tell you all of our names, now what about yours' little one?"
Assassin obediently answered, still playing with shadow. "Our name is Jack the ripper!"
V only nodded, swallowing the information as if it was only natural.
"They say that a servant could only be summoned if the possess a wish? So what is yours' if you do not mind telling me?"
He seem to hit a landmine as the girl didn't answer, but after a second she revealed her deepest desire to him.
"We want to go back. To our mother's womb where it's warm..."
"... Very well then. If that is your true desire the all of us shall do our best and help you achieve it."
"Really!? Even Mr.Parrot !?"
"Yes, even Mr.Parrot..." V can hear Griffon's protest but paid it no heed.
"We must move now, Jack. Time is of the essence."
"U~. But... can mother come to?"
"Mother..." V leveled his gaze towards Reika. "Well that's entirely up to her... Although I assume that I need to book another plane ticket..."
Though seemingly normal excluding her allure V could easily recognized an 'anomaly' when he sees one. Coupled with the fact that she managed to retain her equilibrium despite everything that had happened...
'Ah, yes. This woman is one of us...'
Rikudou Reika had a monster inside her. She was a loving monster who, while embedding herself into society and acknowledging her own deeds as evil, would still calmly kill even a baby if it was for the sake of the little girl who believed in her.
"That is of course, if you are fine with me slowing you down..."
"In truth it would be the other way around. We are in desperate needs of someone capable of performing humdrum chores and the likes, you'd be a lifesaver if you can do just that."
Reika nodded. "I can do that, though I must warn you that I'd only be dead weight for the rest of this war..."
V chuckled. "You've said the magic word. Now I am inclined to allow you to tag along."
"Yay~ mommy is going to!" Jack threw herself at Reika's embrace. The woman smiled as she returned the gesture, hugging the servant as if she was her real flesh and blood.
No. To her she was more than that. She was a girl who believed in her, and Reika will fight the entire world just for her.
"Now all that's left is you..." V turned towards Hyouma, still laying on the ground.
He tried to move his body to no avail, watching in fear as the summoner hovers above him.
"I wager that you are wondering how did it all comes down to this. You see I was in Romania by pure chance, on a job that has nothing to do with this [Great Holy Grail War] of yours.
I was investigating whether or not the YGGDMILLENIA are involved with the sudden influx of [Demons] there when you suddenly left, an act that I found peculiar. So I followed you here... and you know the rest...
So my friend at the end of the day, my curiosity is your downfall. But considering the fact that you're still alive..."
The summoner raised his cane-sword before plunging it through Hyouma's right arm. The magus screamed in pain but no voice came out of his throat.
Black tendrils began to grow from V's palm, growing down and entangling his weapon as they made their way towards the magus.
The tentacles pierced through his skin yet left no wounds of marking, only a sensation of dread as if his very soul is being tampered with.
"You should be thankful for my interference... And now... The payment..."
He didn't need to look up to know what is it that had been taken. His command seal, the prove that he was among YGGDMILLENIA seven masters, now belongs to V.
"With that, your role in this story has come to an end... Your path is split between the unknown... or death..."
V pulled his cane out causing Hyouma to let a silent yelp, his words perfectly summarizing his two possible courses of actions
He can run away and never look back, diving head first to the unknown hoping that he can escape the mage association and probably spending the rest of his days in fear.
Or he can try and call for help as fast as possible, calling forth his clansmen in an attempt to wrestle back his command seal.
Picking the second one will result in his death, that much he knows.
"Now let's leave alone. He has a lot to think about, so lets give him the peace and quite that he needs..."
"Then can we get some clothes for Jack?" Reika suggested. "It's be bad if she is seen in public wearing... that..."
"Clothes? Even though I don't need any?"
Clothes were unnecessary if she went into spiritual form. But Reika and V obviously rejected that line of thought.
"That's no good. Isn't it boring that way? If you're with me, Jack, the long flight to Romania will surely be fun. So let's buy you some clothes. And then we'll board the plane.
"Is that fun?"
"It is." V confirmed. "No matter how many times I flew, riding a plane is something else entirely..."
"Oh~! Can it be? Can big brother V fly with Mr.Parrot?"
"Only for a bit..."
As they continued their idle chat they left the downed magus behind. Making their first step towards a war that will forever change their live.
'Romania... I wonder if Nero is already there... and that half angel too...'
V smirked. "Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war..."
XxX
Voidwalker77 here, in truth I've been interested in writing this ever since DMC V came out. I absolutely loved everyone there. Nero and Dante is as badass as always, while V is literally my spirit animal.
Anyway this is my version of ptl's challenge, the Infernal Holy Grail War, with my own twist. I'll also be using borrowed elements from Bayonetta and Granblue fantasy (especially the primarchs) in future chapters.
I also made it apparent that the Dante and Vergil of my fic are the ones from the reboot DmC because of my fondness of their alternate design and background story, the game is also pretty good in my opinion. And in this universe the brothers are in good terms with each other.
In fact Sparda is an honorary lecturer in Clock Tower though barely anyone ever come to his class. Eva (who is an angel) is also alive and well and as you can notice, she's calling most of the shots in the house.
Anyway the story will focus mostly on Nero and V (whose background is different from their game counterparts). Though my two OC (both half angels), Michael and Temperance will also have their turn on the spotlight. The Spardas will only make cameos though they may get some action should I ever made it to volume 4.
Nero's appearance is based on his speacial edition skin, while V is based on his EX skin.
That's all I have to say, I hope this story lives up to your expectation. Please check out Sterggae's Devil may cry remnant as that crossover greatly inspire me.
Voidwalker77 signing out, and as always CIAO!
