Mission 11 is here! Sorry I've been horrid about my schedule, I recently got a PS3 and have been enjoying the benefits of having Playstation Plus! Free games everywhere makes me a very happy person, but not a very attentive author haha. That said, this ending of the arc I've been writing for a while now was actually somewhat fun to write, as opposed to the rest of the arc. Maybe that's cause its finally done and I can start calling him "Dante" again haha. Commentary at the bottom!


The alarm clock started buzzing on a day like any other. The old man's eyes opened, light pouring in from his windows as though heaven itself was pouring into his room. A dull, dead heaven that he had given up on seeing long ago, especially in today's world. He rolled over and smashed the alarm clock with a closed fist, shutting it up as he forced himself out of bed.

His whole body ached intensely as he sat up; his elbows wanted so desperately to buckle while supporting him out of his bed, and his knees were no better about keeping him standing. He pushed past these aches and pains, calmly looking out to the city that he now lived in. Empyrean, New Rome, whatever you called it, it was his home. Home for two years, ever since the Demon King was slain and the real world was crushed against the demon's own.

He shook his head, still weary even after eight hours of rest. With little haste, he strode over to his closet and sifted through the various dirtied work clothes. While he was in the upper echelons of society in Empyrean, he did not have any luxuries one would expect of the office. Quickly dressing himself in clothing that would be considered by the old world as quite common, he washed his face in the bathroom sink, letting the cool of the water awaken him.

Within another few minutes the man had gotten down to the streets of Empyrean, turning on his car. A flier for the latest Colosseum match was plastered to his windshield, and he sighed as he stared at the image of man, sword in hand, facing a demon with many tentacles. The image of the demon brought great anger into the man's mind. These...monsters had destroyed his life.

Some time ago, he had purchased a ticket to the Colosseum. Lazily, he checked the date of the match he was slated to see; the local devil hunting guild had taken it upon themselves to select a few champions to fight in the arena for today. That would certainly be interesting to see; he had no love for the devil hunters, and much hate for the demons...no matter who lost, he would enjoy the view.

He picked up a small landline phone, staring at it for a moment. He dialed a number quickly, and listened to the ringing while looking outside his window, out onto the remodeled Rome. In two short years, the people had taken to remodeling the place in order to keep out the demonic plague; a large wall was erected around the whole city, spotlights and guns lined the old aqueducts, and the buildings were fortified from the ground up with as much as they could be. Even now, however, the city was being rebuilt and remodeled. Truly, they hoped for a paradise.

"Icarus, what can I do for you today?" asked the man over the phone. Icarus never bothered to get to know many other people at his job, but he was well known among his clients and his fellow employees alike.

"I'm not going to be coming in today." He said plainly. His voice was scratchy from his years of chain-smoking, before he'd quit a year or so ago.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I have some tickets to the games today. Figured I'd have a look around town." He held the flyer in his hand, nearly crumpling it in some subconscious rage.

"Ah, I see. I'll clear it with the boss." The man replied. "You sure you want to do this?" Rather than answering, Icarus merely hung up the phone and walked out of his home, down to the streets below where the workers continued moving around resources, trying to fortify what they could. If the demons ever did attack within city limits, this wouldn't protect anybody.

He got into his car and saw a picture of a woman and a child it. The image brought a tear to the man's eye as he remembered what had happened so long ago...before the demons appeared. He held a much different occupation then, of course, than he did now...a family man. "Gracia..." he muttered, barely containing a sob.

The car roared to life when he turned the key. The man, set on his goal for the day, drove over to the Colosseum, which was crowded with almost everybody in the city trying to pack themselves in. The Colosseum, like the rest of Empyrean City, was remodeled and fixed up in order to endure for a longer time. Many stood against the renovation of a piece of history, but these fights were what brought in a good bit of revenue in this tarnished world. Vitruvian Units were on regular patrol of the area, making sure that no demons would be able to escape their confines in the arena.

As he walked toward those hallowed halls of the arena, the man could only wonder what the destruction of the Demon King had actually solved. Surely there was some reason the Order stood against him...but as he stood there at the entrance of the Colosseum, holding onto nothing but memories of his wife and daughter...the man held his doubts.

He heard a roar and spun to see an encaged demon with long, mantis-like forelegs for arms. The razor sharp blades on the end of each arm didn't seem to scare the silver-haired man on the other side, who poked at it for what seemed like humorous intent. Other than his hair, colored an odd black with white patches dotting around it, he had a short black coat on with deep red lining. He wore torn up jeans and had a pair of worn out, fingerless leather gloves. His blue eyes begot innocence, despite his obvious lack of any sort of the term.

"Hey Cain, check out this one. He's pretty sharp, wouldn't you say?" the man—no, the boy—chuckled. The demon growled and attacked, but found the effort futile. "Woah, hey. You'll get your shot in the arena, wait till then." How arrogant; today seemed worth it just to see him get shredded to bits by this particular demon, known for goring its prey before feasting.

It was given the fantastic name of "Prayer" for it's praying mantis appendages and mannerisms. Known to be quite powerful, as well. Something only a Vitruvian Unit would ever dare to take on in single combat. The man felt sorry for the kid playing with it in its cage, taunting it, angering it. His guts would be strewn across the floor for sure. The man then closed his eyes, his fists shaking in anger as he remembered how he knew so much about this particular breed of demon.

His daughter's heart upon its long, bladed arm, blood spurting in all directions while it stared him in the eye, chewing upon his beautiful wife's intestines. He knew he was next, he knew he had to be; the creature had slaughtered his family so easily, tossing him aside from his protective role on purpose, just to torment him. He called out Gracia's name, and reached out, only to find he had hit the cocky young man on the back of the head.

"Hey, watch out grandpa." he said, bringing cause to the former familyman to grit his teeth. At a distance, he could maybe tell himself that it wasn't his business to get involved in the devil hunter's and devil fighter's work, but up close, he knew that this kid was annoying. From his smug grin to his manner of speaking, everything was geared to piss off everyone in the vicinity. The man lost his sense of empathy for the kid; he was now perfectly okay if the kid did get his guts splattered across the stadium.

"Fuck you too, kid." he responded dryly, walking into the great Roman piece of architecture. There was a gladiatorial entrance and an audience entrance, and he was glad as could possibly be that he and the boy took two separate paths. One to enjoying a bloodsport that sickened him, and the other to fuel the bloodsport with his own blood. As the old man found his seat, he found himself wondering how he had gotten there.

That day his family had been killed, he was rescued at the very last minute. As he screamed in anger, doing his best to throw whatever part of his body he could into some form of attack against the demon, knowing its futility but wishing to die along his family; devil hunters only then stormed the place with guns blazing.

The problem with devil hunters is that they are human. They are imperfect, and they cannot save everybody. That is where the Vitruvian Units are different. They can detect demonic energy, they can track it, and they can slaughter it without any form of mercy. These monsters deserved no mercy. That was why they were here; the devil hunters, for their unreliable services, and the demons for their sins against creation.

His thoughts were interrupted as an enthusiastic announcer took the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he called out through a public announcement system that some townsfolk had purchased for this place, to truly add to the bloody event. "Welcome, welcome! One and all to the Empyrean Colosseum!" Great, they even butchered the name. He should have expected this. "Today we have a few great matches lined up for you, folks, but let's begin by saying that we are in for a real treat today! A Devil Hunter who had crossed the Mediterranean Sea, blessed by the Lady of the Devil's Dozen, Tony Redgrave will be gracing us with his presence tonight!"

Among devil hunting celebrities, the man was aware of very few. Though the Lady of the Dozen was a name known far and wide throughout this post-apocalyptic world. One of the strongest devil hunters there were, rumors circle the world that she could have defeated the Demon King were he still alive to be defeated.

She was the greatest of her craft, something that the man found he had to respect about her, even if the profession of devil hunting was barbaric in and of itself. He preferred the Vitruvian Units to do the job, and keep the people safe from the hordes of demons. His opinion was biased, however, and he would acknowledge it sooner than any other. He used to be a devil hunter himself, a fairly good one at that.

He had never seen the true face of a demon before that night, however. Never known the horrors he had gotten himself involved with when the demons acknowledged him as an opponent. "Don't pretend to be surprised, Icarus," the demon chided as it held Gracia's head, impaled from the neck to the crown, on its left blade. "You flew towards the sun...what were you expecting to happen?"

"What were you expecting to happen..." Icarus snapped back to reality upon hearing that phrase, looking to his left to see a gruff looking man talking with his friend. "...they paired up a green soldier with a Butcher. Of course he was gonna lose." The man looked down to the Colosseum's floor, where a man lay bloodied upon the ground before a larger demon. It looked like a hulking suit of armor, standing at least two men tall with an orb of energy in its center. Upon its arms were bloodied, sharpened buzzsaws that were used to cleave through the weakling's defense. Icarus could only sneer.

He then exhaled in some effort to calm himself, and shook his head. The Vitruvians had nobody to lose, they were vigilant protectors...and they were strong enough to take on some of the more unique and powerful foes that crossed humanity's path. Another reason why the people deserved Vitruvians as protectors. The man's blood boiled as he remembered what happened next, watching the demon depart the battlefield, having won a month of being torture free.

He remembered that the creatures had finally finished feasting upon his family. He had been incapacitated by a swift strike to his gut earlier in the evening, preventing him from fighting back at all. He remembered the demons standing above him, coated in his wife and kid's gore...they might as well have already had his heart.

In his sadness, he had not realized how violently he had begun shaking. Then he heard a voice behind him, calling out. But not to him. "Red! Grave! Red! Grave! Red! Grave!"

The crowd went wild as the man stepped out from his side of the arena; it was the boy from earlier. A little kid like this was given the blessing of one of the most powerful devil hunters there were? The thought seemed somewhat ludicrous to him, perhaps demons had become somewhat weaker over time. He chuckled, and wondered how the kid would fare against the Prayer he would face.

Earlier...

When Anthony had awoken, he stepped into a bar that was relatively empty. Most of the devil hunters that frequented the place during the nights were off on some dayjob to get some currency, now that the demon hunting business had all but dried up. On the bar there was a package that had his name plastered on it; "Redgrave, Anthony".

He had taken on a job as a deliveryboy for his time here. He would have gone insane had he idled, and this way he had a way of exploring the town in a way that wouldn't arouse suspicion. While Cain searched for information on Kat's whereabouts, as well as those of the Seven Sins' at night amongst the drunken gossip of roudy demonslayers, Anthony got to enjoy the experience of riding around town on a motorcycle, talking with the people about town and finding her on foot.

Neither method seemed like it would work, but it was better than nothing. Anthony picked up the package, moving to open it before he heard a voice behind him. "Long time no see, Dante." The nephilim spun to see a familiar sight: "We always seem to meet in bars, don't we?" Anthony was gazing upon the one and only Sloth. "Listen, kid. Pride told me to tell you to keep your nose out of the Vitruvian bot's business, or else we'll end your happy little freedom trail here."

"Oh yeah?" Anthony responded, drawing Ebony, "How are you gonna do that?"

"We know your name, Dante. Both of them, and it's an easy matter to get a Vitruvian in here...he'd stir up enough ruckus to get you arrested, huh?" The Sin somehow knew he and Cain were looking into the Vitruvians as well...how? Why did it concern the Sins, anyway?

"Yeah, well how about you tell me why you give a shit?"

"What a bothersome topic." Sloth responded, turning around and walking away.

"Get back here!" Anthony aimed his gun at the Sin, "Where's Kat? What's with these corpsebots? Wait!" who refused the order and retorted:
"What a bothersome person...who knows why Pride values your existence..." With that, he left Anthony and his box alone in the bar. The nephilim sighed deeply, before sitting on the barstool and holstering Ebony. He stared at the box, and finally opened it, revealing to him several other packages with addresses and a map with each address pinpointed, as well as some advance payment in the form of ten dollars, in case they were needed.

The parking lot outside of the bar was just as deserted as the bar itself, save for the one motorcycle reserved for Anthony. He sat on it, placing all the packages in the saddlebags, noticing something extra in the left bag; a flyer to the Colosseum, and an extra package with a golden star on it. An extra last-minute delivery? Anthony looked around the package and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be flustered by the Sins. He'd tell Cain about his encounter later. He picked up the map and looked at it briefly, studying the new layout of Rome, "Empyrean", and figuring out his route. Finally, he stowed the map with the rest of the packages, and revved the vehicle up, taking off into the streets. The wind blew through his hair as he swerved through traffic, letting the morning's events roll through his mind.

He had been working with Cain for a week by now as a deliveryboy. He was a standard mailman, there was no limit to the variety of things he delivered about town; mail, packages, condoms, medicine, drugs—anything that the company could make a profit out of. However, when he and Cain discussed what the terms of his service were, they both agreed to investigate two things: one, the Vitruvian Units that patrolled town, and the Seven Sins concerning Kat's whereabouts.

Of all the investigations to halt, Sloth did not tell him to stop searching for them. Why not put restrictions on that, and not the investigation into the Vitruvian Units? Before he could ponder this any longer, he came upon a ramp that he simply could not resist. He swerved over to it, coming upon it with the greatest speed he could muster out of the bike.

In a moment, he felt what it was like to fly, the motorcycle soaring through the air with the greatest of ease. Traffic mattered little to him while he was among the birds; he felt, for the first time in a long time, truly free of the world. Then, like a cruel dictator, gravity took hold and the hunter hit the ground once more, letting out a grunt, though the bike lost no speed. He eventually came upon the first client's home, delivering a parcel that was small, yet somewhat heavy. He found little surprise in the client unwrapping a gun; a submachine gun, as well. Anthony accepted his payment, and carried on his route through the town, wondering how long before the Empyrean government muscled in on courier duties as well.

Finally he had delivered all of the packages; all of them, except for the star-studded one. He drove up to the home that was addressed on the package; it wasn't a particularly outstanding place, nor was it anywhere very bad. It looked like an incredibly average apartment complex, nothing too special about the beige paint and the architecture that fit with the rest of the city's "Neo Roman" style.

"What makes you so special, huh?" Anthony asked as he pulled out the package, walking up to the door and knocking on it. Nobody answered, leaving Anthony to listen to the sounds of nature around him. He sighed at the sound of the bird's chirping, and knocked again. This time, the door opened, and Anthony's jaw dropped at who he saw.

"I've been expecting you." The small woman said, hood down to show her beautiful, short brown hair.

"...no way...Kat...?" He was breathless as he stared at what seemed to be a ghost. This was too easy; the Sins were doing this to torment him.

"My package?" Anthony looked down at Kat's words, and let out an audible "Oh!" as he handed it to her. She unwrapped it, revealing a small necklace. "This is a beautiful thing that I ordered from the Dead Man's Respite. Don't you think it's nice?"

"Uh...yeah..." Anthony muttered, still trying to think of what to say. It had been weeks since they'd seen each other, but the way she acted you wouldn't believe it had been a day. "...are you...okay?" He struggled with each sentence, stumbling about with some fear that he would wake up and realize this was not the person he thought it was.

"You're wondering where the Sins are, and how I escaped." Kat surmised, Anthony weakly nodding his head. "They had a hunch that I would be enough to keep you off the trail of the Vitruvian Units, I think. They were talking about keeping you away from that business."

"Yet they don't mind me hunting them?"

"What they don't know is how much more powerful we are as a team, Dante." Kat turned around, ignoring Anthony's question. He followed her into her house, and saw several flyers for the tournament plastered around the room. "The Colosseum is a place for a warrior to test their skills against many an opponent."

"Yeah, one of the most famous arenas there are." Anthony noted.

"The winners, rather, survivors, get to go meet the Government in charge of the city." She looks at the table, with a single plate full of food on it. "...most are never seen again, often assigned to high-level tasks."

"You think the strongest are being turned into corpsebots."

"Exactly. Why not take the cream of the crop, and make them even better?"

"So, why mention this to me?"

"If you want to keep going after the Vitruvians, you need to win in the arena today, Dante." Kat smiled at Anthony's reaction.

"Don't I need to be registered?"

"I thought you were a Devil Hunter, Dante." Kat sat down at the table. "Couldn't one of your allies get you signed up?" With that, she picked up a fork beside the plate, and took a bite.

"I guess Cain could...I'd have to call..."

"The sooner the better, Dante. Sooner, the better." She took another bite. "We don't want the Sins catching wind of this."

"Thanks for the tip, Kat..." Anthony muttered. A buzzing could be heard for a few moments, before he realized it was his phone.

"Goodbye Dante."

"See ya—hey, why don't you come to the Dead Man's Respite? We should stay together."

"The Sins are probably watching me, Dante. They'd have an easier time catching you breaking the rules if I was with you." Kat's answer made Anthony sigh. She was right; if the Sins caught wind of his endeavors, he would be arrested pretty quickly. He picked up his cell phone and flipped it open, answering.

"Hey boss," he said casually, walking toward the door.

"Tony! Hey, just checking on your route, since you aren't back yet."

"About that...how did you find Kat?"

"...find her? I haven't yet. Have you?"

"You had a delivery for her in my saddleba..." Anthony stopped. The Sins really did expect him to stop if he found Kat. "...anyway, I need a ticket for the Colosseum."

"To watch it? That'll come out of your paycheck."

"Not to watch it...to fight in it."

"That's a different story altogether, man."

"Hey, it'd be a big favor to me."

"Among others. Alright, I'll meet you in front of the Colosseum." Anthony hung up and ran to his motorcycle; this was his best bet for getting anywhere closer to the place the Vitruvian Units were made. Then maybe he could find out why the Sins were so interested in their production.

The Colosseum wasn't very far away from Kat's place, and he soon met up with Cain. The two shook hands and Cain handed him a ticket. "For what it's worth, kid...it was nice having a deliveryboy like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The only slot I could get you in was against a Prayer."

"A what?"

"A class of demon that sprouted up on this side of the mediterranean. Shit, these things evolve like normal creatures." With that, a roar could be heard, and the hunter turned to face a large demon, with mantis-like forearms. He chuckled a bit while Cain kept his distance.

"Hey Cain, check out this one! He looks pretty sharp, wouldn't you say?" The Prayer tried to leap at the boy, but was too restrained. "Woah, hey, you'll get your shot in the arena. Wait till then."

"Stop fooling around kid." Cain replied, and Anthony scoffed. "They are a formidable class of demon; fast, strong, and able to cleave through most kinds of armor. Even your crappy jacket."

"Hey, I had a better crappy jacket before I came here." Anthony rebutted, before walking around the cage of the creature. "Still a fodder demon, nothing too bad—ow!" He turned to the side to see he'd been smacked in the face by an old man. "Hey, watch out grandpa."

Just with a cursory glance over his eyes, Anthony could tell the man had seen much. He was old and in pain, clearly someone who'd suffered from loss. "Fuck you too, kid." came the man's response, in a scratchy, smoky voice. Anthony rolled his eyes and stood out of the way, continuing to the gladiatorial entrance. He wasn't quite sure what the old man's problem was, but he couldn't let it bother him; he had to prepare for his match. To prepare to meet a Vitruvian.

Some time had passed before finally it was his turn to walk out onto the battlefield. There were several that waited alongside him, but many more had come out here to die against incredible opponents like Butchers. What he wasn't expecting was the crowd to be chanting his name; the announcer then introduced him like so: "Anthony Redgrave, Warrior of Limbo City! Blessed by the Lady of the Dozen, he is here to fight for glory!"

Wow, Cain went all out on the introduction. "And in this corner, the Prayer Demon! Don't get this one confused with a corporate priest, folks, this one doesn't prefer your heart for dinner!" The large demon from before took the field. "Okay, yes it does. Now let the battle commence!"

Anthony drew forth his guns, Ebony and Ivory as the demon leapt forth, easily closing the distance between them. It swiped at him, nearly bisecting him a few times; were it not for his incredible reflexes he would be confetti already. Anthony backpedaled away from the creature, using Ebony and Ivory's new power to crush bullets against foes to keep it at some distance. He holstered the guns and drew Rebellion from his soul just in time to catch the Prayer's forelegs just short of skewering him.

"Alright asshole, back off!" Anthony muttered, pushing back on the creature and stabbing forth with his broadsword. The creature evaded the attack, but only just barely. It took its chance to counter the nephilim's attack, slicing along his arm. The wound wasn't deep enough to do any real harm, and the scratch stitched itself up as soon as the Prayer had drawn its razor foreleg across it.

Anthony planted his foot into the ground, drawing up dust and granting him a tether to spin and slash at the Prayer for a counter-counterattack. Hit by Rebellion's sharper side, the Prayer flew forward in pain, but quickly regained its balance and pounced upon the hunter. Anthony charged forth; "Ophion!" He cried, "Angel Lift!" The blade of Rebellion took on the form of the Demonic Whip Ophion, and shot forth to the mid-air mantis demon.

Drawing upon his angelic strength, Anthony pulled on the whip. Instead of pulling the target to him, as the demonic pull did, he pulled himself to the target. He released the power of Ophion when he had significant momentum, and pulled Rebellion back for a full swing attack in midair. They clashed, though hard enough to force each other out of the others way. Anthony landed into a roll while the creature face planted into the ground.

Anthony stood up, turning to face the demon on the ground. It had suffered greatly from that blow, but it was not about to give up on the fight. It stood up, a black blood oozing from where Rebellion had been drawn across it. "Sure you wanna keep going?" Anthony taunted, showing his middle finger to the demon. "I think you'll find me a cut above the rest."

The demon leaped again, but with far less strength than it had before. The hunter easily sidestepped his foe, laughing a bit as the creature slammed its bladed forelegs into the ground. As it struggled, Anthony placed his foot on what he assumed was the creature's rear, and kicked with enough force to send the creature flying forward—sans forelegs. Blackened blood sprayed from the severed limbs and the stubs on the demon's arms alike while the devil hunter slowly approached. The crowd roared his name, and he adopted a sickeningly cocky smile. "Game over." He said, before bringing the heavy sword down on the demon, ending it.

The crowd roared around Icarus as they watched what had at first seemed to be an ordinary kid rip apart a high-level demon like a Prayer. The old man merely frowned and sat forward, wondering what had actually happened. This was no simple human, not the way he moved. Devil Arms were powerful, and some were known to augment a user's own physical prowess, but not to the level this kid displayed.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, prompting him to pick it up. "I'm off duty right now." He started, gruffly.

"You might want to consider staying on-duty, for now." the voice answered. Though he was well-known and respected in his company, he was certainly nowhere near the top of the food chain in his company. "Anthony Redgrave, in the Colosseum. You just saw his performance, did you not?"

"Definitely super human, sir." Icarus responded, narrowing his eyes at the boy who finished his foe at last. "But one battle can not be considered an adequate test of his power."

"You're right..." the voice responded, but then Icarus' shoulders were touched, by two different people. He spun to see a young girl sitting beside a lanky young man.

"The kid is more than what he seems." The girl said coldly, and Icarus turned to face the kid in the arena, before looking back. "We've put together something that will show, without a doubt, he is super human...even, say...demonic."

"What do you mean?"

"A Prayer is a dangerous thing, Icarus. Take note, however...they travel in packs." the man answered, and the two looked back toward the arena, taking the old man's gaze with them.

Anthony stood proud in the middle of the stadium, having struck down the demon that opposed him. He found himself wondering if this was all it took to get to see how the Vitruvian Units were made. He rested Rebellion on his shoulders, looking out to the crowd, wondering if Kat was out there somewhere, watching him kick ass.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The great Anthony Redgrave!" The announcer called out, and the hunter took a bow. "We received a request from the crowd for an encore! Mr. Redgrave, think you can handle some more?"

"You kidding? Throw Hell at me, I'm ready!" Anthony called out in response, much to the crowd's delight. He turned around and looked at the gates that the next demon would appear from. "And now! Due to popular demand, and the need to get rid of these things, Anthony Redgrave versus...!" The gates opened, but what the hunter saw was something that made even his eyes widen. The crowd fell silent as they rushed out and took the field.

Several dozen Prayers took to the battlefield, all swarming around their opponent. "There seems to have been a mistake!" The announcer called out, "Why are there so many Prayer Demons? Somebody get the Vitruvian Units on the field!" Anthony had taken a largely evasive stance, dodging every attack that came his way while he formulated a plan of action. Just one of these things had the speed and skill to pose a threat; he was dealing with a mob. This would be a challenge, he thought as he ducked under one demon's blade, and flipped over a second's attack.

He landed on his feet and pulled his upper body as far back as he could, playing the deadliest game of limbo ever with one of the Prayers. As quick as he assumed the position, he exited it and drew forth the power of the Thousand Arms. He would need a thousand to duel this many creatures, although he still did not have an exact understanding of how the weapon actually worked.

Drawing on his memory of his battle with the Thousand Arms demon, he remembered it had absolute control of all the bladed weapons in its vicinity. As the Devil Arm took the form of a silver gauntlet on his wrist, he considered that that was the demon's power; controlling weapons. He focused on controlling the blades of the Prayers, however found another barrage of attacks to dodge as his answer to that. The Thousand Arms did not seem to be controlling much of any of their weapons.

He sidestepped one attack, somersaulted beneath another, and found himself blocking a third with the Thousand Arms' physical form, the gauntlet. He pushed back on the demon and backpedaled in order to keep all of the demons in his line of sight. "C'mon..." he muttered under his breath as the demons continued to come at him in droves. "...how did I work you the first time?" He thought back to when he had used it.

When he defeated the Thousand Arms and was granted its power, he tried to remember how exactly he'd used it. Did he use one of the weapons nearby? He hopped over the next demon to attack, kicking off of the broadside of its foreleg and launching himself above the Prayers below him. He landed and spun, before he thought of one thing: the Thousand Arms wasn't manipulating weapons in the area, it was summoning them from the ether!

He spun through a plethora of attacks, gracefully dancing through the blender of enemies, before he ended up unharmed on the other side. He motioned his hand at the demons, and much to their surprise, and his own, a sword fired out from his hand. It slammed into one demon, impaling it straight through its heart. "The Thousand Arms! Now I get it! I have a thousand weapons at my disposal!" He played with the gauntlet a bit. "You are a handy little guy."

The demons flew at him again, and he summoned two broadswords via the Thousand Arms. He ducked and dodged through their attacks, before slamming his foot into the ground and spinning to slash at the monsters once more. Upon impact however, the blades shattered against the Prayer, tossing it aside but leaving the surprised Anthony open to counter attack.

A blade pierced his heart, bringing about many cries from the crowd. The Prayers surrounded Anthony, blades at the ready, and the one that held him on its arm was ready to feed him to them. Calmly, the hunter drew Ivory, and pointed it straight between the demon's eyes. The sound of gunshots filled the arena as he splattered the demon's brains across the ground behind it, before shooting off the creature's arm and spinning to face his foes.

As they struck at him, he used the new weapon in his gut to fight back. Impaled in him or no, it was still an incredibly sharp weapon he used as he spun to deal damage. The cries of the crowd had died down, but the hunter knew not why. Not until he heard gunshots that weren't his.

He had been standing in the center of the crowd of Prayers when chrome-armored soldiers descended into the field, shredding his foes with lead. The hunter dropped to the ground before he could get hit, but stood to his full height to greet them. "About time you got here," He said, though the bots did not respond to him at first. "Silent type, huh? How annoying. Then again, you are all pieces of unholy crap." He pulled the demon's arm from his chest, before realizing why the crowd had all shut up.

"He's alive." Icarus observed, standing up. He remembered keenly how his wife and child were murdered, the memory burning at him. They were dead from the attack, and these creatures were about to have their way with this kid too...but he stood up. He fought back. He may not have been dead, but there was one sure thing he was.

"Turns out he's a demon after all. How bothersome." The man behind Icarus remarked, while the old man had been calling his boss back on his cell.

"Call in the Vitruvians...Anthony Redgrave is a demon masquerading as a human."

"I knew it." Within moments of the call, the Vitruvians stormed the stage, and destroyed the Prayers that were attacking Anthony. He pulled the appendage out of himself when he suddenly realized his secret was out.

Three Days Later...

"...so it was you who made the call." the prisoner observed as the Interrogator, Icarus, paced the room.

"Yes. I must say, Subject, that you are quite the specimen. Able to blend among the humans seamlessly. You've been at this for a while." He held his finger over a button. "You command great powers, for a demon."

"And you command a lot of nothing, for a crotchety stuck-up old man." It was then that a tremor could be felt. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Icarus asked, sitting down once again. "You're getting no backup, and why would you? Your facade as a devil hunter is done. You've lost." The trembling of the ground continued.

"You know, I think I will tell you my name." Anthony muttered, summoning the strength to stand up on his two legs. This course of action intrigued Icarus. "After all this time, you've hated the demons, and most of all, you hated the two who defeated the Demon King and unleashed this Hell upon us..."

"What are you talking about?" Icarus seemed clearly worried about what was going on.

"You wonder my name, you wonder who I am. You want to know so you can have control over me, but I've learned that there is no such power." He chuckled. "Human misinformation at its finest, eh?" The door behind Icarus was kicked down, and several troops stormed the room. Cain strolled in casually, shooting the chains free from the ceiling. Icarus merely stood flabbergasted. "All this time, I've been luring you out; you, your corpsebots, and the truth."

"We're ready to go when you are."

"So after three days of torture, of pain and anger on both of our parts, Icarus," Anthony said, walking out with the soldiers. The interrogator was no match for the soldiers, and the soldiers knew he was not their true enemy, and thus held no reason to kill him.

Before they had disappeared from the door, the hunter turned to face Icarus one last time. "In case we never meet again, I'll tell you. I'll tell you, and you can be happy with that."

"Just tell me...what your name is..." Icarus muttered with murder on his breath. Strange time to be making a threat. Anthony merely chuckled.

"My name is Dante."


The goal for this week's chapter was to provide a definite ending to the arc I started. This whole arc was not a part of the initial story, which is just another way of seeing how the story's evolved. As much as I hated writing the arc, I have to say that for the most part it seems to have worked out pretty well. There is some writing I'd like to go back and correct, maybe, but I think I did well.

In truth, the arc started based off of the initial reveal trailers of DmC, which is why I had Dante lose his iconic coat to get a new one. That will happen a few times as the series goes on. I wanted to somehow connect the trailers to my story, and thus we get this arc.

As many of you have noticed, Icarus is the mysterious interrogator I've been antagonizing the past two chapters. This time we get to see him in a slightly different light; the reason he's such a jerk being because his family was killed by demons.

The number one thing to realize about any argument-both sides think they are right. Is it right to sacrifice humanity to get demonkilling supersoldiers? Would more be saved that way? Is it worth the cost?

If you liked the story, comment on it! If you wanna keep up, follow it, and if you really enjoyed it, shoot me a fav! I always enjoy reading feedback from my readers, even if I don't always get back to you very promptly.

That said, I promise to try and get my act together and update every wednesday again starting next wednesday-as promised! See ya then!