The dark street was illuminated only by the glow from a red neon sign, its light giving a warm glow to the otherwise cold and empty pavement. That didn't last, however, as black shapes slid silently across the ground towards the source of the light. At first appearing as puddles of black liquid, the shapes stopped as they drew closer to the sign, rose up and began to take form. The silhouettes of hunting dogs emerged from the liquid, their red eyes scanning the building in front of them.

The shadowy hounds spread out and moved forward, sliding in under the door and through cracks in the windows. Once inside, they began to inspect each room; first the main office with its impressive collection of weaponry hanging from the walls and its desk that was bare save for a telephone and a picture frame, then the kitchen and restroom behind it. Their target so far missing, the creatures expanded their search to the upper floor and the single room left in the building. The lead dog crept up to the closed door and slowly, quietly, pulled it open.

BANG.

The creature stumbled backward from the gunshot, hit the railing, and slid under it to fall back down to the bottom floor. The room's occupant yawned as he opened the door the rest of the way, pushing his white hair out of his face with the hand that still held the pistol. "Don't you guys know it's rude to go snooping around someone's house in the middle of the night?"

The black hounds growled at their target, though none attempted to advance; they seemed unsure of what to do next.

"What's wrong, pups? Cat got your tongues?" The man laughed as he pulled a second pistol, identical to the first save for their differing white and black casings, out from under his red coat. "So why don't we just skip the talking and get right to the action?"

Firing both guns at separate targets simultaneously, his rain of bullets caused the demons to scatter, finally urging them into battle. One approached his flank from the stairs and it lunged towards him, its neck suddenly elongating as it spread its jaws. The man leapt skillfully into the air, above the waiting teeth, and brought his feet back down onto the demon's head. As he leapt away, using the demon as a stepping stone, he unleashed a concentrated barrage of gunfire; the hound shrieked with pain as the bullets tore it to pieces, then melted away into a puddle of black ooze and lay still.

A demon on the ground floor attempted the same attack, but from a different position; as the man sailed through the air, it waited until he was right above it, then stretched its neck straight up, attempting to snatch the red-coated man out of the air. He refused to be caught off guard, however; planting each boot between the demon's jaws and pushing them apart, he fired straight down the creature's throat. It too screamed as it collapsed, and the man landed in its remains with two more demons waiting on either side. Instead of attempting to bite down, the two stretched their claws out to slash at the man.

Flashing them a quick grin, he rolled out of the way seconds before they could strike home, the pistols in his hands taking on a red glow. As he regained his footing, he fired each at either target, the each bullet striking with a flash of red energy. These demons collapsed as well, and the room fell silent once more. The man glanced around the room before returning his pistols to their holsters. "Hm, coulda sworn there were five of them." He thought on it for a moment, then shrugged. "Ah well, I always did suck at math."

***

The air shimmered, and the lone surviving hound emerged in a stone tunnel. Standing before it was a tall figure in a flowing cloak made of black fog and a marble white mask, bearing a woman's face in a placid expression. The figure glanced down at the creature, green light glowing from slits in the mask's eyes. "You're certain it's him? No mistaking it?"

The creature growled and nodded its head and the figure seemed to relax its position. "Excellent…" She breathed, unable to keep the anticipation from adding a hint of excitement to her voice. She addressed the demon again. "Go, rejoin your pack, I have another matter to take care of…and then the hunt can begin."

***

As far as cities go, humanity takes great pride in the scale and grandeur its cities are capable of. Many capitals around the world have been designed to inspire a sense of awe in its visitors, impressing upon them the strength and sophistication of its people. Tartarus, however, capital of the Demon World, could easily put them all to shame; its wide streets stretched for miles and were lined by a massive network of structures that could tower over the tallest of skyscrapers. Like the humans, many of its residents took pride in its scale, referring to it as a monument to their superiority over the pitiful humans. Kalaratri, however, simply found it to be a nuisance. Its sheer size made the act of getting to where you wanted to go quickly and efficiently almost impossible, requiring an intimate knowledge of the towers and tunnels and bridges that interconnected all of the buildings to avoid getting lost. And while this was little hassle for her, having lived in Tartarus for several hundred years, coming here only reminded her of how its architects had carelessly ignored convenience in favor of having something they could be proud of; and that was what bothered her the most.

Kalaratri's misty cape left a trail of fog behind her as she turned another corner, leapt down a few flights of stairs, and crossed a hallway to where a group of armored guards stood watch outside a large set of double doors. As she approached, they became aware of her presence, and the closest one held his hand up to halt her. "Hold. State your business here."

"I'm here to see Lord Koshchei." She answered.

"Very well, but make it brief." The guard said as he waved her past. Kalaratri pushed the large doors open, but as she walked through, she could hear the guards whispering to each other.

"Koshchei? Who'd be interesting in seeing that crusted old coward?"

The word 'coward' caused Kalaratri to tense up and her green eyes began glowing more brightly. She slowed her step to catch the response.

"Oh, give it a rest, already. I'd like to see you agree to go chasing after THE Sparda, much less Sparda in his prime."

The initial guard responded with a growl of indignation. "I'd do it without a second thought if our conquest of the Human World was at stake! What does it say about a Devil Knight when a lowly grunt like me is willing to fight an opponent that he isn't?"

Kalaratri put it out of her mind and kept walking. The cloaked woman made her way down several staircases and reached the dimly-lit bottom level, where the door to a large library hung open. "Father?" she called out calmly as she walked in "Are you in here?"

There was not an immediate answer; instead, she heard the sound of a heavy weight being dragged across the floor and a wheezing breath. A large creature emerged from behind a bookcase on the other side of the room, its actual size distorted by its forward hunch and the smoky shroud that covered much of its body. Koshchei's head was concealed by the skull of a large stag, the antlers forming a thorny crown above him, and several long, bony arms stuck out of the shroud's sides and dragged along the ground beside him. When he spoke, his voice made the sound of dry bones scraping against each other and the slow wheezing of labored breath. "Ahhh, Kalaratri. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I just came to tell you that I'll be leaving for a few days, father, on an important errand to the Human World."

The Devil Knight's red eyes stared at her from behind the skull. "A hunt?" He asked.

"Yes sir."

"Haaaah" Koshchei said slowly. "Very good. After mighty prey, are you?"

"The mightiest." She answered with a hint of pride. Her father didn't seem to share in her enthusiasm.

"You're not chasing after Sparda again, are you?"

Kalaratri swallowed her breath for a moment, then replied "No sir," comfortable that she was technically answering honestly.

"Because nothing good can come from seeking conflict with that man. I had some very good reasons when I refused to face him, and those same reasons apply to you."

"But…!" She began, about to inform him of how his own soldiers were dragging his name through the streets, but held her tongue; it was a conversation they'd had several times before, and nothing would be any different this time. "Yes father." As she bit her lip during her response, she reminded herself: this time WOULD be different, especially once she had returned from her hunt.

Nodding, as if satisfied that his daughter had learned her lesson, Koshchei continued. "Be sure to see me when you return and tell me how your hunt fares."

"Believe me, father," Kalaratri said with renewed resolve. "I will."

***

"Aw, COME ON!" Fenrir shouted as he pounded his fist against the sofa. "You were wide open! How hard is it to run three feet further to the left and NOT waltz right out of bounds?!"

For the most part, this was an ordinary apartment occupied by two young adults; messy rooms containing furniture chosen for comfort and entertainment rather than style, with little in the way of decoration. But this was far from an ordinary home, for its two occupants were far from ordinary humans. Fenrir, a muscular and blue-skinned Demon resembling a humanoid wolf, sat on the sofa and roared expletives at the sports team losing on the television. His hands and feet were coated with a thin layer of ice, as were the horns on his head that curved back along his skull. A frustrated growl flashed a set of sharp teeth, and he glared at the screen through red eyes. Hantu, a thin and black-skinned Demon with a loose layer of skin that resembled a hood covering his head and a cloak hanging from his neck, glanced up from the fresh batch of mail he was looking through and smirked with amusement at his blue-skinned companion shouting at the television. His ghostly-white face stood as stark contrast to the rest of his body, drawing the casual observer's attention to his unsettlingly large eyes. The irises and coronas were a pitch-black, giving the distinct impression that the sockets were empty save for the glowing red pupils that seemed to hang in empty space. Neither Demon went unarmed, even in the relative safety of their often-overlooked home; a large zweihander with an icy-blue blade sat propped up against the sofa next to Fenrir, while a pair of wakizashi with bone-white blades could be seen attached to Hantu's waist beneath his cloak.

The pale-faced demon asked with his raspy voice "Tell me: better or worse than a total disaster?"

The wolf demon leaned back against the couch and rubbed his temples. "John's gonna hang this game over my head for WEEKS…"

"Well, you win some, you…" Hantu trailed off as he pulled a letter out of an unmarked envelope. He scanned the hand-written page in attentive silence, and his partner noticed the unusually long pause.

"Uh, buddy?"

Walking over to him, the hooded assassin held the letter out for Fenrir. "You'll want to take a look at this, my friend."

Shutting the game off, Fenrir took the letter and began reading it out loud. "'Greetings to Fenrir Lupus and Kubor Hantu. We wish to hire your formidable skills for a matter of great importance…' What the hell is this? Who sent it?"

Hantu held the envelope up for him to see. "A job offer from an anonymous source, it seems." As two Demons living in secret in the Human World, Fenrir and Hantu supported themselves by working as mercenaries for hire; though wishing to escape the notice of the Demon World's rulers made the choice of occupation seem counterintuitive, the fact that any Demon so inclined to report the pair never lived to speak of their encounter ensured that the two renegade warriors remained safely anonymous.

The wolf demon shook his head and kept reading. "'Know that while we cannot reveal our identities, we share your interests; loyalty and support for the Legendary Dark Knight, Sparda.' Wait, 'support'? Are these humans?"

"Keep reading."

"'Our sources have informed us that Kalaratri, daughter of Koshchei, is currently traveling to the Human World and seeks to take the life of Sparda's son, Dante.' Woah woah woah, WHAT? Sparda never had any kids, did he?"

Hantu shrugged. "I couldn't say, honestly. He went under the radar after the war, only popping back up at random intervals in defense of humanity. If he ever had any sons, it was never made public knowledge."

Fenrir thought on this for a moment before continuing. "'We all owe Sparda a great deal, and it would be ungrateful of us to stand idly by while an attempt is made on his son's life. But as we lack the strength to protect him ourselves, we appeal to your sense of duty and ask that you go in our stead. We have already wired 20,000 in cash to your bank account, and will deliver an additional 20,000 when Kalaratri has been stopped.'" He stared at the last paragraph for a moment and laughed. "Sense of duty, huh? Atleast they're paying well."

"Does it say anything else? Any information?" Hantu asked.

"Just an address for a building a few towns over, which I'm guessing is where this 'Dante' lives."

"A few 'towns' over? Assuming this letter was delivered sometime today, we'd best get moving if we're to get to him in time to stop the assassination."

As Hantu went and grabbed their car keys, Fenrir glanced at the letter one more time, specifically at Sparda's name. "Sparda's son, huh…been a long time since I was reminded of our own debt…"

He followed Hantu out to their car and got it started up; as he did, he remembered the last time he ever saw the Legendary Dark Knight. Having been assigned to the Human World invasion force, they had been given a room in the barracks of the Temen-ni-guru, the tower that served as their foothold in human territory. The pair had been off duty when Sparda came to call…

***

"God damn, what the hell is all that racket?!"

Fenrir, two thousand years younger, stuck his head out into the hall while Hantu lurked cautiously behind him. Another Greater Demon stumbled into the room, clutching the bloody stump where his arm had been.

"Geeze, what happened to you?"

"It's Sparda…" The wounded officer gasped, still in shock. "General Sparda has gone mad and turned against us!"

Fenrir's jaw hung open. "You're…you're kidding me, right??"

The Greater indicated his missing arm. "This is his handiwork! Our comrades are trying to hold him off, but he's wielding more power than I've ever seen, even for Lord Sparda! Generals Cerberus and Nevan have already fallen, and we believe his aim is to challenge the Emperor Mundus himself!" Neither Fenrir nor Hantu answered right away, as if hesitant to say anything, but the Greater goaded them on. "Don't just stand there, arm yourselves! We must defend the Emperor!"

Before anyone could say any more, the Greater by the door suddenly exploded in a shower of blood, a massive curved blade cleaving him in half. Fenrir's hand instinctively leapt up to the zwiehander on his back, but he froze before he could pull it out, as the slain demon was quickly replaced by Sparda himself. The black-armored and purple-skinned demon absolutely radiated with power, red lightning crackling about his body as he stood in the door. The rebelling Devil Knight did not move from his spot as he eyed Fenrir and Hantu patiently, waiting for them to make the first move.

The blue wolf demon stared at Sparda nervously for a few moments, noticing out the corner of his eye that Hantu, tensed up and ready to fight, was just as apprehensive as Fenrir and waiting patiently for his comrade's signal. Finally, he grimaced and slid his sword back into its sheath as he shook his head. "Uh-uh, not this time, man. This time I know better than to try and mess with you."

Sparda nodded respectfully at the pair then walked past them and began to head higher into the tower. Fenrir hesitated, but then called out before Sparda had left the room. "Sir, wait a minute!" The Devil Knight paused and glanced in his direction. "Before you go, I've just got one quick question for you, please sir…" The wolf demon shrugged his shoulders in confusion. "Why?"

Sparda stared at them for a moment, as if considering his answer, and Fenrir added quickly "I-I mean, the Demon World doesn't look kindly upon traitors, and you're giving up so much by helping these humans. I just need to know…what is it that makes all this worthwhile for you?"

The Devil Knight nodded, then said simply "Because it's the right thing to do," and left.

***

Driving down the highway, Fenrir chuckled softly to himself. The pair had already been having second thoughts about their involvement in the war, but didn't see any other choice; they'd been following orders for so much of their adult lives that doing anything else seemed inconceivable. Sparda changed all that. "To think that seven little words could be such a life-changer…"

Hantu glanced at him from the passenger's seat. "You say something?"

"Hm? Nah, it's nothing."

It took them a few hours of travel to reach the listed address, and the setting sun lit their way down the small side-street and to the building at its end. From what they could tell, it seemed to be a store of some kind, with a pair of sizeable double doors at its front and a bright red neon sign above the entrance. As they approached, Fenrir eyed the sign quizzically, pulled out the letter, and checked the address again. "This…is it?"

His hooded companion glanced it over. "Looks like he runs a business for himself."

"Yeah, but…" Fenrir replied with another leery glance at the neon sign. "what's up with the weird-ass name? 'Devil May Cry'? Who thought that one up?"

The store's interior was dark, but it was obvious that it had been occupied only recently; the place was relatively clean except for an empty pizza box that sat open on a pool table on the side of the room. The pair opened the door cautiously and went inside, paying no attention to the red motorcycle parked out front. Though the front room was empty, they paused to admire the various trophies and Devil Arms lining the store's walls.

Fenrir whistled as his gaze crossed over a set of blue nunchuks, what looked like a dark purple guitar and a set of black greaves and gauntlets that had white vein-like lines decorating them. "Damn, one hell of a collection this guy's got here." He noticed Hantu wince and added "No pun intended."

They checked the back rooms, but those were as empty as the front. "Looks like he's not home." Hantu remarked.

"Looks like. Think he's popular enough with the locals that one of them might know where he is?"

A woman's voice from behind the pair answered before Hantu could. "He might. Real question is, who wants to know?"

Fenrir froze at the feeling of cold metal, a gun, pressed up against his spine. Hantu glanced behind them with widened eyes; this mystery woman had been able to approach them without alerting him to her presence, a feat in and of itself. She actually stood a head shorter than the man she was holding up, but that didn't seem to bother her much, and wore a loosely-buttoned white shirt, brown gloves and knee-high red boots. What initially looked like a plaid skirt actually turned out to be a utility belt stuffed to the brim with ammo clips for a variety of firearms. When the woman noticed Hantu glaring at her, she briefly glared back from under her short black hair with strikingly heterochromatic eyes; one red and one blue. Despite the subtle threat being made against him, Fenrir was not one to be intimidated so easily, and he said with a slight grin. "And who would you be, his girlfriend or something?"

He immediately regretted the playful remark, as the woman impatiently pressed the gun harder into his back. Hantu, however, noticed that at the same time her face had taken a slightly reddish tone. "Just answer the question."

"Ow, geeze, come on lady, ease up with the boomstick a bit, would ya?"

The woman blinked in confusion. "Who told you my name?"

Fenrir paused with confusion of his own. "Wait, what?"

She sighed, exasperated. "Look, just tell me why you're looking for Dante and, depending on your answer, I MIGHT ease up on the gun in your back."

The wolf demon nodded. "Alright, alright, least you're honest about it. Would you believe we've been hired to protect Dante from an impending assassination?"

"You're joking, right?" Lady said with a laugh. "Someone's actually willing to pay money to safeguard that lazy ass?"

"…Guess that rules out the girlfriend thing, huh?"

"His business partner, to be precise."

"And that business would be…?"

Lady answered with a bit of mischievous grin on her face. "Hunting down Demons like you two."

Fenrir grit his teeth and said somewhat cautiously "Even the ones who are looking to help you out…?"

To his relief, he lost the feeling of the gun's cold metal pressing against his back. "I'll believe it when I see it." She commented.

"So you know where he is, then?"

Lady holstered the handgun and walked over to the corner of the room, where a rocket launcher with a large bayonet sticking out its front sat propped up against the wall. "I have a fairly good idea. Lately, there have been a series of very…suspicious job offers being sent in our direction: ones that gave very vague descriptions of the mission being offered, but very SPECIFIC descriptions of what sort of agent they were looking for, always describing Dante without actually asking for him by name. I took it upon myself to do a little investigating and found a Lesser Demon was behind the suspicious offers, with the obvious intention of luring Dante out into the open; I'm guessing that would be the assassination attempt you were talking about?"

Fenrir and Hantu gave each other a nervous glance, but Lady ignored it and continued. "I came here to let him know, but found you two instead."

"So DO you know where he is?" Fenrir asked impatiently. Lady held a newspaper clipping in front of his face. "My guess? He's already taken the bait and is on his way to the old prison complex downtown."

The wolf demon turned to his companion and said quickly "We gotta get goin', man."

Lady put an arm in front of him as she walked past. "Hold on, I'm coming with you."

"What, still don't trust us?"

"Not entirely, no. But the threat certainly seems genuine, and I think it's about time I had a turn at saving his ass for a change."