Some big news-I am going to be converting this whole story into an original story while I write this. Character names will be changed and et cetera, and I am currently plotting out the prequel, currently under the pet project name of "Devil's Rose".

Now to more relevant news, the making of Mission Nine. This was probably the chapter I put the most work into out of them all-which is why I am no longer two chapters ahead of the update curb. This went through four different versions, each startlingly different in medium and end, until I finally ended up with this version.

It is also a very different narrative than the rest of the story, you'll see. Very new kind of narrative for me, a kind that swaps between future and past, but this chapter felt like it needed to start in medias res. So any constructive criticism is quite, quite welcome, as it always has been and always will be.

Enjoy Chapter Nine! See you next week!

"Subject Nine-Three-Seven-One-Zero, demonic imprisonment facility, tape one. Recording. What. Is. Your. Name?" The voice was cold, uncaring. Mechanical, in an unnatural way; the beaten and worn young man struggled in his bindings at its sound. He looked up at the camera that watched him; the only thing he could relate to where the voice was coming from. He scowled as he looked at it, but he did not respond to the question that was posed.

He screamed in pain as a jolt was sent through his system, and he spat at the ground. "I will ask again. What is your name?" Malice dripped on each of the words that came from this disembodied person, this phantom that spoke to the man. He struggled once more in his bindings, pulling against the chains that held his arms up.

He looked up, into a mirror, and saw himself. He was on his knees, chains attached to the ceiling suspending him just at ground level. He had bruises all over him, and he was coated in blood. He grimaced a bit, wondering how it had come to this. Another shock was administered to him, and the voice repeated itself.

"F…fuck…" the man muttered, looking up at the camera. He grunted as he pulled again at the bindings, before being shocked again. "…you…" Finally, a door opened up and a man walked inside the room. He wore a business suit, and stood well above the enchained man's position. He brought with him a foldable chair, that he now sat upon.

"This isn't your first time here, is it?" His voice was strong and sharp. He had with him a manila folder, with some papers in it. "A demon trying to invade our peaceful city of Empyrean. You aren't the first, as I'm sure you'd remember." He licked his thumb and turned a page in the folder, looking over it carefully. However, no matter how much effort he made into making it look like this was his first glance at the folder, he obviously knew exactly what all was in it. "Came here aboard the Angel's Passage, a cargo ship. When the Vitruvian Units found you, you ran. Why is this?"

The man was silent for the longest time, then he spat in the direction of the man. "Fuck the police." This did not make the interrogator very happy of a person, and another shock went through the prisoner's body.

"You don't belong here, demon. You belong in Hell."

"At least we have something in common." The prisoner shouted in pain as another jolt of electricity coursed his body.

"Smart mouth, sharp tongue. We know of these behaviors; what we wish to know, is your name."

"Anthony Redgrave. I already told you." The man, Anthony, struggled in his bindings.

"How painfully human of a name." the interrogator responded coolly. "Surely you don't think we understand you are using an alias."

"Well 'surely' you don't think I care." Anthony spat once more at the interrogator, who stood up.

"The Vitruvian Units attacked." He said as he looked through the folder. "They recog nized your demonic blood immediately, as we knew they would. How did you convince the men of the Angel's Passage to take you aboard?"

"I stowed away, retard."

"Did not look like it. Footage suggests you were actually among the crew, conversing with them. They were harboring you."

"They were attacked while in transit. I had to help them."

"Yes, by this nonexistent 'Demon of the Deep'. We know demons exist, boy, but they do not exist in such large forms."

"They exist in any form they damn well please." The prisoner looked at the interrogator, directly into his eyes. "In fact, you look more like a demon than the countless I've slain."

"A demon-hunting demon." He turned a page in the folder. "From a settlement somewhere in the ruins of Limbo City. Your story does not add up anywhere at all." He turned to face the prisoner. "You've told us everything about you, none of these facts at all verifiable, and you've omitted your name."

"I gave you…my goddamned…"

"Anthony Redgrave does not exist, demon."

"Yeah he does. Right here."

"We can stand here all day and argue this." He sighed and sat down on his chair. "Or, you can tell me your real name, I'll be on my way and you can take refuge underground with the rest of your ilk."

"Where you keep your hordes of captured demons." Another shock coursed through Anthony's body.

"Yes. You've been there before." He sighed. "We are still trying to figure out exactly how you broke free of the confinement. We have several spells devoted to keeping demons in." He looked at Anthony, and sighed. "Alright, start from the beginning. You were with Captain Baha, on the deck, when the Vitruvian Units attacked. What happened next?"

"I think you can guess. I ran." Anthony muttered in response. His whole body was sore as the man sighed and looked at him. It wasn't wrong, he remembered back those few days ago. How the Vitruvian Units had descended upon the ship. He remembered how immediately they had reacted to his presence, just as they had back in Angelo City. Too bad nobody was able to program his identity into them in time.

"Ran to where?" He remembered as the Vitruvians descended, he saw them begin to apprehend everyone on the crew. He knew that he had to run, and as he fled, he remembered watching the captain's face. A look of some betrayal hurt him even more considering what they had just fought their way past. He had somewhere in the city to be, though; a reason to be there. One name rang true through his memories.

"Cain." The name spilled through his lips as another jolt of pain was sent through his body. The interrogator looked at him and raised an eyebrow, before looking through the folder he held in his hands once more.

"Cain? He's just a regular devil hunter." He leaned in closer, examining his prisoner closely. "Why would you go to him?"

Anthony remembered his feet hitting the ground after leaping from the deck. He had to put the captain's look behind him; he needed to move forward if he was ever to save his people. If he was ever to save Kat. He remembered his breath coming in heated gasps; he had had no rest between his fight against the Demon of the Deep and the Vitruvians attacking.

He rounded corner after corner, trying to put as much distance between himself and the robots who chased him as he could Unfortunately, they were tireless machines, and he, while demonic in nature, had a limit to his stamina. He thought of how easily they had actually caught up to him. Another jolt of pain brought him back to the torture chamber, though he knew not when he was in more pain.

"I'll ask again. Why go to a devil hunter?" Even though his words sounded impatient, his voice did not. He had all day to do this.

"The crew of…" Anthony started, and looked up. "…the Angel's Passage…what of them?" Memories flashed through his mind; of the captain's face, of his crew as the Vitruvians descended upon the crew. For the past week he'd been in this damnable city, he had not much time to devote to their fate, rather more concerned with his own.

"An answer for an answer." The man drew forth a pen, scribbling something on a sheet of paper inside the folder. "What did you seek from Cain?"

"Work." At Anthony's answer, the man wrote some more in the folder.

"Work…as a devil hunter?" This was sounding more and more like a psychological session than anything else. "Why would you want to face off against your kin?"

"Shut up…!" Anthony felt another jolt of pain, crying out. "An answer…for a goddamned answer…"

"The crew of the Angel's Passage has been incarcerated under maximum security, and face severe punishment for their actions." He leaned back in his chair, looking over the prisoner again. "Harboring a demon into the Holy Capital of the World is a dreadful offense."

"They weren't harboring—"

"Such an odd demon, aren't you? You act as though you were almost…human." He stood up and looked through his folder. "Quite a strong-willed thing you are, too. You rallied the demons in protest against their captors. Tell me about that."

"Look through your…fucking…file…you have it all written down. I know you do."

"I only know the official report. You started a riot, and betrayed your brethren for your own freedom." He shook his head. "You demons…so monstrous, able to betray your own comrades like that."

"Careful you don't get humans and demons mixed up." Anthony retorted with a harsh tone, spitting again at the interrogator, who administered another shock to the prisoner.

"Silence, you know nothing of humans."

"Demons know more than…you possibly could imagine…" Once more Anthony struggled against his bindings, though this effort was in vain.

"Answer the damned question, demon." There was a true malice in his voice now. He was angered that so lowly a demon thought to judge humanity. He didn't have a clue, thought the man who remained chained up in the center of the room. "What happened in the prison? How did you break free?" There was a cold fury in his tone; Anthony must have hit a sore spot. He was shocked, and with each repetition of this the question too was repeated. "What happened?"

Anthony thought back to what was in the prison as his vision began to blur. The dark cells, the cries of agony and sorrow filled his mind, took hold of his senses in some fool attempt to escape his current pain. He had never been to Hell, personally, but he imagined that it was very similar to what Hell would be like. A Hell made specifically for the demons to suffer in; how ironic. He remembered the several kinds of dead demons he saw as he walked down the halls, pushed along by cold, unfeeling tin soldiers.

Finally he was forced into a pit, down into the main holding for the demons. It was here that he was told to never surrender his name to the men who would ask it of him. And it was then that he surrendered the name "Dante" until such time as it would be safe for him to use it again. The person who told him that this was a dangerous practice to remain in, however, was the biggest surprise to the devil hunter.

"Spells. If they know your true name, you can be summoned." Explained the small demon that had greeted Anthony at the entrance.

"So why is it every time I see you, it's in the clink?" he asked as he walked alongside the small demon. He was about the size of a human, in reality, though he relied on a cane and was hunched over for the most part. He had one mechanical eye, and Anthony had distinct memories of fetching that eye for the demon some time ago, in a demonic prison. He had been hunting its warden, Bob Barbas, at the time and needed the demon's help.

"Please, Anthony, don't bring up Mundus around these people." The demon said. Though his true name was Phineas, he went by the pseudonym of "Glayve". "They are even more hurt by the events of two years ago than the humans."

Anthony looked around at the demonic inmates. At a glance, this was completely evident; they were being captured like animals at this point. Originally he had thought they merely attacked demons that invaded the city and brought them here, however this was far from the truth. This city's devil hunting guild actually went out and caught trophies for whoever was in charge.

"You are not a mere demon," he said as they sat upon a bench that remained near the entrance to the prison. It was a large complex, and within it the demons were allowed to roam the place. The large seal upon the door, one which reminded him of Kat, was what kept the demons from tunneling out, or breaking down the entrance. "You are nephilim. That seal can only stop a demon; it will not stop you."

"How do you know this?" Anthony asked. By this time he had been stripped of all of his mortal weapons, however his Devil Arms were still a part of his soul, and as such the humans could not take them from him. Nevertheless they held Ebony and Ivory in their greasy clutches.

"I've studied the runes extensively." Glayve responded as he stood just beside the seal; just a hair's breadth from touching it. "As a demon, I felt the human's study of us was fascinating. Especially the Mediums, or what humans called, witches. They knew far more than even most demons knew about demons." He pointed at a triangle in the seal; it was somewhat similar to the Star of David, but with slight differences in the designs inside. "These symbolize rosemary, a demonic repellant. Combined with actual rosemary petals, the effect is doubled; near fatal to demons."

"And this won't kill me?" Anthony asked, and Glayve chuckled at the question.

"No, but it will hurt enough to keep you from trying to get through. There is a way out, however, at least for you." Anthony reached out for the seal, but pulled away, feeling a shock. It was incredibly painful, like the seal Kat had erected around New Limbo. "Be careful."

"How the hell do I get out of here then?" Anthony asked, looking up. The cavern was enormous; built to keep the demons in no matter what happened; if for some reason the seal broke, the demons would need to be able to fly to escape, and all the flying demons were collared to prevent such an attempt. Whoever was in charge here, they had thought a lot of things through.

"That is because they see demons as animals, they don't expect a full revolt." When Glayve said this, Anthony stopped dead. His eyes fell upon the small demon.

"Why are you helping me? I already told you that I am a devil hunter."

"Because nobody wants to be in here. Even demons have a limit to the torture we can take." He turned to face Anthony. "While only you can get out like this…I trust someday you'll be back. Think of yourself as an investment." The hunter shrugged at this comment, and looked around at the people.

"Even against Mundus?" Glayve cringed at the mention of the name, and other inmates began turning their heads.

"When I helped you in your battle against him, it was because you needed help, and you were already helping me."

"Honorable for a demon." At Anthony's comment, the demon nodded. The others had returned their attention to whatever it was they were doing before; not much to do in a small cavern like this one. "So, what can we do to cause a revolt?"

"We already have enough demons here to simulate a revolt." Glayve's words made Anthony raise an eyebrow. Even if Glayve was the one who helped Anthony find the power of the Devil Within, he was still a demon.

"Simulate a revolt?"

"Indeed." Glayve turned around and took a few steps forward, towards the other demonic inmates. Anthony was close behind, wondering what would happen next. "We can not all escape this time, Anthony, but I have studied the circle. I know how to get one demon out for now." He nodded his head over to a group of demons that had been loitering.

If Anthony did not know better, he would have assumed that they were gigantic porcupines. They were humanoid in shape, however they had several "quills" decorating their whole body. These "quills" were more akin to razor sharp blades; these things were definitely monsters that made the thought of combat seem like a bad one. "We call them 'Thousand-Arms' for their many blades. The seal does not affect the swords once they are apart from the demon, for the swords are no longer a part of the demon."

"Neat. How does this help us?"

"The seal can be modified. Not destroyed from this end, and not without the right means, mind, but it can be modified." Glayve strolled towards the Thousand Arms. "We can force your angelic half through."

"What happens to my demon half?"

"That's where the pain comes in." Glayve nodded to the bladed demon, which now looked toward the devil hunter. "Once I say to go, you need to attack the seal with all of your might. Both of you." The being nodded; the sound of the blades clanging together like wind chimes filled Anthony's ears. The both of them prepared and aimed at the seal; Anthony drew forth Rebellion and prepared, before feeling Glayve's hand on his shoulder.

"It's like I told you two years ago. It's all about perspective."

"That was just about the world of Limbo though."

"No Tony. That is about life. You see all demons as evil." He pulled out Ebony and Ivory, handing them to the hunter. They had a few upgrades which were readily evident upon them; the barrels were extended, and they had been modified to fire even faster than before. Along the sides of the gun were engravings, "For Tony Redgrave".

Anthony took the guns into his hands after attaching the Rebellion to his back. They felt comfortable in his hands, like friends he had lost long ago. "Thanks, Phin—Glayve."

"Now!" At Glayve's command, Anthony began attacking the seal, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets upon the purple glowing seal. The Thousand Arms did not seem so eager to attack, having not even so much as drawn one of its many blades. Eventually, Anthony caught on to the lack of backup.

"Something wrong?" He asked. His focus was less on the fact that he was among a bunch of demons, and more on the thought of escape.

"You are nephilim." Muttered the Thousand Arms. It did not so much have a voice, as it did clang its blades together in a way that made it mimic human speech. Anthony folded his arms. "This can only mean one thing."

"Yes, I'm the son of Sparda." Anthony replied, rolling his eyes.

"I will not help you."

"Why not?"

"You induced this Hell upon us. Not being captured, no, that's our own folly." His bladed hand gripped Anthony by the neck, hoisting him into the air. "You merged the reality of Limbo with the human's reality."

The reality of Limbo was the existence between Hell and Earth that the demons had inhabited before the battle against Mundus. While they inhabited it, the humans were incapable of seeing them—even perceiving the fact they existed was a difficulty. It was the efforts of the Order, headed by his twin brother Vergil, which forced the demons out of Limbo.

Efforts that would never have been successful were it not for Anthony's own which aided them. The Thousand Arms' blades formed into a sort of face that the hunter was able to recognize as an expression of anger. "I'm not apologizing." He muttered in response, doing his best not to swallow for fear of having the blades shred his throat.

"Of course not. You're far too proud." The demon, rather than shredding Anthony, began walking toward the seal. "You will see the error of your ways." Anthony held Ivory toward the demon, firing a few shots. The bullets ricocheted off of it harmlessly.

"Let me go!" Anthony muttered in a hushed voice, kicking the arm that held him with all his might. The grip did not lax, however he managed to his one sword seemed to hold a few swords in place. They clanged uselessly to the floor as he struggled.

"Cease this, son of Sparda." Anthony did not cease, instead striking the arm once more. More blades fell from the demon, forcing it to release him. He landed on the ground, holstering Ebony and grabbing one of the Thousand Arms' many swords. Striking forth, he sank the blade deep into the demon's torso. This had little effect, much to his dismay; he was struck forth, into the seal. A jolt of paralyzing pain surged through his body, eventually he was pulled away from the seal by the demon and forced into the ground.

He coughed up some blood as he struggled to his knees. He looked up to the Thousand Arms which towered above him. "Shit, you're something else…" he said, standing up and drawing forth Rebellion. "Glayve said you'd help me."

"Glayve neglected to mention your heritage." It swung a sword at the devil hunter, who nimbly avoided the attack.

"So that's it? You'll refuse your chance at salvation because you hate me?" The Thousand Arms merely swung its blade again in response, nearly hitting the devil hunter who backpedaled. "Not even a chance to be friends?"

"Your mockery is no benefit to you." It responded, ceasing its attack momentarily. "There is but one way to bring my aid to your cause. Defeat me."

"So all I have to do is kick your shiny metal ass?" The demon nodded at the hunter's proposal. Anthony then looked around the cell, at all the demons who were watching the battle. There were no other restraints in the cavern, they could easily get involved if they so wished. They did not, for one reason or another.

"Show me the power of a Demonslayer." The Thousand Arms shot forth several solid steel blades towards Anthony, who weaved between the onslaught. He then dashed forward, toward the demon, striking hard with the Rebellion. The blades seemed to morph out of the way of his sword, evading his attack completely. This disoriented the nephilim, who was then caught by the leg.

He let out a cry of pain as he was thrown into the ground with such force as to cause a crater, however he rolled out of the way of the demon's stomp just in time. He pushed himself to his feet just to be caught by a stray bladed haymaker from the demon, throwing him right back to the ground. He rolled back to his feet, sheathing Rebellion upon his back and drawing the Gemini Blades.

He rushed forward, slicing every which way he could in some attempt to even land a single blow against the demon. His efforts were unsuccessful, however, and he found himself vulnerable to another devastating counterattack: a storm of blades flew in from his side, nearly eviscerating the son of Sparda, sending him to the ground.

"Unimpressive." Mocked the Thousand Arms, gazing down at the bleeding and battered man. "One would have expected more power from the one who slew the Demon King."

"One would have expected…more spine from someone made of swords." Came Anthony's response after a brief pause. He stood up, holding the Gemini Blades in both hands. "Why don't you stand still…and fucking take it?"

"Why do you?"

"Fuck you." Anthony rushed forward again, merging the Gemini Blade into one sword. He needed to be creative about how he was going to attack, else he would never land a blow on this seemingly nebulous foe. It was like trying to fight smoke; smoke that was made out of blades that were capable of shredding steel.

Blades swung up and down, left and right. Anthony had to rely on his basest instincts to dodge them, for it was nigh impossible to tell otherwise which blade would attack next. His breath came in short, controlled bursts, in order to increase his focus and keep his blood pumping at a good rate. He gazed up at the source of the bladed hurricane, the Thousand Arms, and gritted his teeth.

He thrust the Gemini Blade forward into the mass of flying swords, however they danced aside his attack as he had thought it would. He separated the sword into its twin forms, slicing at other swords. This was clearly unexpected, as he had made contact with a sword at least once during the attack. He launched the Gemini Blades from his hands, drawing the Rebellion, and swiping at a cluster of swords; the projectile Devil Arm had managed to make contact with other swords, while his trusty sword managed to smash the cluster into shards of blades that rained down.

He flipped and planted his foot on one floating foot, sheathing Rebellion and drawing Ebony and Ivory. Kicking off of the sword, he flew back through the blades, letting out a storm of bullets as he did. Each bullet ricocheted randomly off of different swords. The demon could not keep up with all of his attacks at once, as Anthony had expected; a heart could be seen amidst the storm.

He kicked off of another sword, using them as stepping stones toward the heart, firing bullets every which way at the swords that would bar his path. Finally one blade made it through his attacks, but he managed to deflect the attack with his guns. Sparks flew as he marveled at the fact his barrels had been upgraded so as to stand against demonic steel; the Thousand Arms seemed unamused.

"Pull it together, bitch!" Anthony cried out as he approached the heart. He jammed the guns into it, and began pulling the triggers again and again, as fast as he could. Unfortunately, this meant that the Thousand Arms could now track his movements again, no longer confused as to his whereabouts thanks to the Gemini Blades. Swords began impaling the nephilim, his own blood spattering all over the demonic heart he had been loading with bullets.

This was now a game of endurance. Blood poured forth from the hunter's mouth as he came to realize that; either the Thousand Arms would succumb to Ebony and Ivory's sustained fire directly into its heart, or he would succumb to the blades that were impaling him over and over. His regeneration worked against him here, each stab being a fresh amount of pain.

Pulling the triggers slowly became more and more taxing of a task. He felt another sharp stab of pain, and nearly stopped firing, before letting his gaze fall upon the heart once more. Demons had hearts. It wasn't a thought he found himself expecting to think, but this was the undeniable truth. The demons had their own hearts, their own feelings. They had their own goals, just like people.

Other than physical superiority, what separated the races? Another jab to his gut reminded him. One race was an immediate threat; the other race was one that was long-term. He shook his head, spitting up some blood. "Say 'uncle,' god damn it…" he muttered, and began pulling the triggers anew. Having freshly upgraded guns made the fight much easier, but he couldn't rely on the girls to do all of the work for him.

The stabbing slowed as well. His attacks were taxing to the demon as well; it was a battle of attrition. The hunter was not sure how much longer he could keep up his fight against this monster. "Give…up…"

"You have nearly reached your physical limit." The Thousand Arms responded, planting another sword inside the hunter. "But not the limit of your power. You truly are the son of an Archdemon like Sparda, not using the power of your Devil Within."

"I don't…need the power…of a devil…" muttered the hunter in response, pulling the triggers again, repeating this as fast as he could. What started as a flurry of blades and bullets had turned into nothing more than wounded, weakened warriors who were at their limit.

"So it's true. You have such avarice for us."

"That's not…it."

"Oh?"

"The Devil Within is not…me…I don't need…anyone else's…power…"

"The Devil Within is another aspect of you."

"No…!" Anthony's feet were now upon the ground, with a beating heart impaled upon his guns. "…shut…up!"

"Your power is a gift. To not use it is a horrible waste."

"My 'gift' almost cost me everything!" He yelled out, a renewed burst of strength causing him to pull the triggers several dozen more times in the space of a second. The heart was blasted off of their barrels, and landed uselessly across from the hunter. He stood there, panting for a whole second, before holstering his guns. The Gemini Blades were dismissed back into his soul, as was the Rebellion.

"In time, you will understand."

"It's all about perspective, Tony." Anthony turned and faced Glayve, who now held a glowing orb in his hands. He handed the orb to the hunter, who now grasped at what seemed to be just a ball of gas. Then, he felt metal encapsulate his hands; he flinched, and heard several blades behind him.

"Don't tell me he's—" Anthony spun to see that the blades were now reacting to his movements.

"The Thousand Arms is now your Devil Arm." Anthony turned to look at the demon.

"So…"

"He gave you his power. The power to escape." Glayve tapped Anthony's chest. "However he is not wrong. The power I helped you discover…you refuse it."

"The Devil Within isn't me."

"Of course." Glayve turned and looked at the seal. "However, this violence did have one goal in the end. Escape."

"The power of the Thousand Arms…" he pointed at the seal. "Alright! Let's do this!" He began punching and kicking at the seal, the blades acting to his every whim. His energy seemed almost renewed when he got the new Devil Arm; this was a refreshing experience! He doubted any enemy could get the drop on him now.

As he continued his assault upon it, the seal looked different. The purple glow was now a deepened red which colored the room around it as well. He stood and marveled at it for a moment, before looking around to search for Glayve, who had disappeared. "Alright…" he muttered, punching his palm as he stepped forward. "…time to save New Limbo."

He ran at the seal; pain filled his body, mind, and soul as he got closer and closer to it. It was as though his very soul was being torn from his body; the nature of the seal made it so. However, it was the only way forward. The only way out of the damned prison he'd been captured in. He had too much to fight for to sit around with a bunch of convicts.

Then he opened his eyes, realizing that his interrogator was still in the room with him. He shouted as he realized why the pain he had been feeling in the dream had felt too real. He weakly pulled against his bindings, and the man took his seat. "You fell asleep."

"Guess you're just…that boring…" Anthony spat in response, receiving another shock.

"Your sarcasm doesn't suit you. You would be much better off if you'd just tell us your name." Anthony chuckled in response to this.

"Fuck…you."

"Very well." The interrogator stood up, folding his chair up. "I'll be back bright and early in the morning. Be ready with my answte ers then." Before he left, he pressed the button again, administering another shock. Anthony went limp, his body spent from dealing with the constant pain of the torture. He had hardly the strength to move, but he looked up just before the door slammed shut.

"You're. First."