Author's note:
*Sees reaction to previous chapter.
* +1 happiness because people know Asura's Wrath.
* +1 happiness because people accept Dante's best feats from the series.
In reply to a comment I read:
Yes, I am aware of Void Mundus. Yes, I am even aware that Hideki Kamiya confirmed that what Mundus created was a genuine universe. And finally, the reason I am writing Dante to be overpowered is because he is overpowered in canon.
This is a fanfiction. I try to stick to the original lore of DMC as much as I can, but I make changes which I feel make this story more interesting, and sometimes add things which in my opinion explain the canon series' events a little better. To me, keeping a character's core essence intact is much more important than getting their feats exactly right.
To this end, I noticed that Dante's displayed power level (note: displayed power level is not the same as true power level) varies a lot throughout the media. In DMC 1, he is universal and can move faster than light. In DMC 5, which takes place afterwards, he is unable to stop V from stabbing Urizen, nor do any of his fights with the latter destroy Redgrave city. Obviously, there has to be a reason behind this. I found an explanation that I thought fit well, and that is what I used. I even tried to keep it thematically true to DMC's ideas.
Even if you take Mundus (or any of the other antagonists') feats at the highest level, Lucifer is still stronger, simply because that is how he is written. He is the next big boss for Dante to overcome, and he does so, and by doing it, surpasses him.
That isn't me implying that DMC-verse is weak.
It isn't me implying that I can write it better (in case that's what you thought, for whatever reason).
It is me showing respect to DMC-verse, by showing this is how powerful I believe it is.
It's me showing respect to Dante, by showing this is what I believe his character is capable of.
I took Dante's universal power level from DMC 1, and I gave him a specific feat in this fic which cements it.
That should tell you all you need to know about the regard in which I hold the series, and Dante himself.
Oh, for the record, hardcore fans don't act as gatekeepers. They welcome new people into the community. I'm talking about someone in particular, and they know who they are.
To all my other readers… (takes a deep breath, exhales, smiles): It feels damn good to know the DMC fandom is alive and thriving. Rest assured, this fic is continuing, and I plan to show you so much more.
And so… with all that out of the way…
Let's rock!
Chapter 13: Change in Plans
On the world of Remnant, there is a certain place. A place untouched by sunlight and warmth, illuminated only by the shattered moon. A place where the skies are always red. Here, in the eternal, warped night, a certain witch resides. Always observing. Always scheming. Always growing her army. After all, a millennia old grudge must hold a certain amount of ill-will to be able to sustain itself for that long. And after that many years, perhaps ill-will was all that remained in her. A shadow of what she once was, she now had only one purpose: to destroy the one she had once loved, and then destroy humanity itself, and with it, the last traces of those two worms.
And after millennia of working behind the scenes, reaching out from the shadows to manipulate countless people, it had seemed she was finally nearing the successful conclusion to her plans. Her goal was within reach. All that remained was to wait for the opportune moment, then tip the dominoes over, one after the other. After all, who could resist her? There were only humans now, and they were a sorry excuse for what their predecessors were. Only one other had the ability she had, and he was an impotent fool. Humanity, with all its engines of war and shallow courage, could not match the endless hordes of darkness, which were hers to command. She would take the Relics, turn them to her own purpose, and end this world.
As often tends to happen though, life had other plans.
It only lasted a moment. But imagine if you will: a burning piece of coal, shoved down a throat. Even a single moment burned.
Salem clutched at her chest, her heart beating several times faster than usual. Connected as she was to the Grimm, she could feel their intentions. The beings of unlife, meant to be nothing but tools of destruction, were cowering. Every last survival mechanism in them was telling them to run. But where does one run when the entire world is within reach of the danger?
The witch got off her throne shakily, struggling to stand up.
"Impossible!", she screamed. "They were supposed to be gone! Why… why return now? But no… this isn't them… this power… how can such a thing even exist?"
The power she sensed had no limits. No, even beyond that, it was outside her comprehension. Merely sensing it was threatening to destroy what remained of her sanity. The Twins couldn't even begin to compare with it.
"A god… one stronger than those two worms… but no… to think a god could be like this…"
In the glimpse of that power, she sensed a potential for destruction that the so-called god of darkness couldn't hope to touch. A power that could not be divine.
No, something like this… could only be Infernal.
Salem had heard of other gods. To be more precise, she had inferred the same from what the gods of light and darkness had said. In the millennia since their departure, Remnant had occasionally had visitors from other worlds. And from them, she had gathered the truth that the Twins had hidden.
God. Demon. Both terms made for humans. One to inspire worship, the other to cause fear.
In truth, there was no difference.
And so, she had surmised that demons must exist, somewhere out there.
That knowledge had been pushed to the back of her mind. What happened in other worlds was none of her concern. Her purpose was to spite the Twins. And so, her attention was solely on Remnant.
Until now.
A Devil walked on Remnant. No lesser demon. No would-be lord.
A true Devil, possessing power beyond human understanding.
Elsewhere in Remnant, a portal was closing behind a certain red-clad warrior who had just finished fighting his ancestor.
The demonic aura he exuded unconsciously returned to its normal levels, since there was no worthy opponent to face at the moment.
And so, the power Salem had felt for a moment faded from her senses, and the pressure threatening to crush her vanished.
The witch panted heavily, taking a moment to catch her breath and regain her bearings.
As she did, she began to laugh.
"Of course. Of course you would be the one to answer."
The prayers she had made long ago, for her lover to be resurrected. Rejected brutally by the gods.
The prayers she had then made for vengeance. Unanswered. Unheard.
Until now.
No gods would answer a prayer for absolute destruction.
But a demon would.
Salem smiled, twisted glee filling her ruined but still intelligent mind.
The Relics were now a backup plan.
The first priority was to locate the new deity, and convince them to join her, before that fool Ozma could do the same.
At the same time as Salem was making plans to ensure that the mysterious demon was on her side, another meeting was taking place, elsewhere on Remnant.
Somewhere far away from the Land of Darkness, in the wildernesses that lay on the outskirts of the kingdom of Vale, a cabal had gathered. Natives of Remnant, had they stumbled upon this group, would not have understood who they were looking at. After all, they were clearly not human or Faunus. And they certainly weren't Grimm either.
By the time their brains shifted from a response of wonder to a response of fear, they would already be in the process of being killed, or worse, eaten alive.
Those were only two of the things, after all, that demons generally did with human beings.
"Seems like we are all here," said a masculine, heavy voice, low-pitched and gravelly. It sounded like rocks being pushed over each other, like boulders grating. This was fitting, considering the fact that the one who had spoken resembled nothing so much as an enormous entity whose entire body was made of solid stone. While somewhat humanoid in appearance, his proportions were different: his legs were shorter and stubbier, while his long arms hung low past his knees. His torso and limbs were thick, and no neck was visible between the massive block that composed his torso, and the hemispherical form that was his head. Set in that form were two glowing crystals, which were his eyes. No mouth was visible anywhere. At an astounding twenty feet tall, this being towered over Grimm, human and demon alike.
Unshakeable Terror, Atlas
"Indeed," replied another voice. This one unmistakably belonged to a woman, and commanded authority with its tone alone. In contrast to Atlas, her body was clearly composed of organic matter, being, for the most part humanoid. In form, she resembled a human female of exceptional athletic prowess, both lean and muscular. Pale hair that burned like gold framed a beautiful face. Two pairs of glowing orange eyes took in every detail of the world around her. From her back extended four wings, though they were folded at the moment. While the upper two were feathery, and designed for flight, the other two were far too heavy and stiff to be useful for that. Instead, the arranged of thick scales on them made them resemble shields. On her torso, shoulders, arms and legs, she wore gleaming metal armour, and in front of her, embedded in the ground, was a massive golden Zweihander, a two-handed sword taller than most men.
Violent Queen of the Battlefields, Valkyrie
"It is rare for us to act as one. But given the circumstances… and the power we sensed…" This new voice came from a figure, who, unlike the previous too, was not humanoid at all. Instead, his body was long and twisting, that of a serpent. Curled gracefully in coils, his hooded head, resembling that of a king cobra, somehow managed speech quite effortlessly. Golden, slitted eyes observed his colleagues, shrewd, scheming. Occasionally, his body pulsed, becoming transparent, as though it were an illusion.
Venomous Sorcerer, Malevar
"There is no doubting it. However brief it was, there were two powers. One, the ancestor we believed was dead. The other, the prophesied one, the son of the Legendary Dark Knight."
The final speaker was much less imposing compared to the others. Slender and small, her body was night black, and a pair of antlers grew from her head. Her eyes glowed gold.
Seer of the Underworld, Iris
While she had managed to sustain her life since meeting Agnus and giving her daughter over to his care, she did not have long to live.
These four demons had convened, because they had managed to feel Lucifer's presence as he had touched that universe from outside. They had also felt Dante's growing power. A portal had opened up, and both demons had disappeared, until moments later, when Dante emerged, his power briefly registering as even higher than before, till it disappeared from their senses.
"When we first came to this world, it was due to the distortion caused by the Qliphoth. Our goal was to explore, to see what this place has to offer."
"The Underworld is in chaos. With no Demon King in place to bring order, her residents run wild."
Iris looked at her stronger compatriots. Atlas, Malevar and Valkyrie were all high ranking named demons, who had once been in Mundus' service.
Until a certain knight had convinced them otherwise.
"I remember it as though it were yesterday," said Valkyrie. "I would have faced the Prince of Darkness by his side. But he rejected us all, to fight him alone. How shameful… to have the opportunity to fight by the side of a true warrior, against a worthy foe… and to be sent away like a child."
"He was protecting usssss," pointed out Malevar. "It is the reason we are still alive. Indeed, he would not even allow his own apprentices to accompany in that fateful battle."
"To protect the life of a demon… perhaps that was why we swore allegiance to him. But he never returned", said Atlas.
Iris chose this moment to state her views. The group needed purpose, needed unity.
"Sparda is no longer in a place where we can reach him. But his son…"
"Which son?" interrupted Valkyrie. "While not in this world, the Dark Slayer is formidable. As I recall, both brothers cut down the Qliphoth together."
"It is not the best idea to consider him," cautioned Iris. "While Vergil is certainly powerful, he has no love or patience for anyone but himself or his own kin. And it is likely the Underworld holds bad memories for him. To enrage him would be… unwise."
"Then the other one," said Atlas. "Dante…"
The four of them paused, considering it.
"He fought Lucifer and sssssurvived," commented Malevar.
"The prophesied one…" said Valkyrie. "Do your job, seer. Recite for us the prophecy, describe the vision you saw, millennia ago."
Iris closed her eyes.
In front of them all, a shimmering orange construct of light appeared.
It showed a figure, tall and proud, horned and winged, wielding a massive blade.
"The Devil's Sin, the Human's Sin
Mortality and Divinity shall meet
Infernal and Divine
All Shall be One, as One is All
From the Knight's Shadow, he will rise.
When the time comes
Trust in the Shadow.
The One who has inherited the Mantle…
The Legendary Dark Knight."
While it was clear that the construct depicted the ultimate demon form, the Sin Devil, the blade was indistinct, burning as though on fire. So none of the five gathered could tell if it was the feared katana or the terrifying broadsword.
"Damn it!" Valkyrie. "Trust in prophecies to be unclear till they come to pass."
"This is not the time to doubt," said Iris. "We must consider what we have seen, and choose for ourselves."
There was no doubt Vergil was powerful.
But between him and Dante, the signs pointed to the latter.
He had beaten Demon Kings before.
Many named devils had sworn allegiance to him in the past.
And he had met Lucifer.
"The choice seems obvious then," said Atlas. "Are we all in agreement?"
"Thisssss one agrees", said Malevar.
"So do I," said Valkyrie.
"Then it is decided," said Iris. "We were indeed right to come here. Our next task must be to find Dante."
"And convince him to return where he truly belongs-"
"That is impossible," cut in a new voice.
Immediately, all five of the demons summoned their power, turning towards the new arrival who had snuck up on them, ready to obliterate her.
Out of the pool of shadows on the ground, a beautiful woman with pale green skin and red hair emerged.
"Nevan…", breathed Valkyrie. "Why are you-"
"Why would I not be here? You are all discussing my Master. It is only natural I should join in."
"Master?" said Atlas sharply. "You serve Dante? A lie."
"The truth, I assure you," said Nevan. "I was one of the guardians of the Temen ni Gru, after all. I am intimately familiar with him, since the time he climbed the tower."
"What do you want, witch?" hissed Malevar.
Nevan smirked.
"Pathetic snake, crawling on your belly. Ease your anger. I come in peace, and with shared purpose."
"Shared purpose?" said Malevar. Even in anger, he retained his senses, and his ability to think. It was what made him dangerous.
"You want him to be the next Demon King. I want him to embrace his Devilish nature. Isn't it obvious?"
The cabal calmed down, dispelling their gathered energy.
"And how do you suggest we go about making that happen?" asked Valkyrie.
Nevan made a show of gliding around, looking up at the sky innocently.
"Over the time I have spent with him, I have realized it is futile to try and make him give up his humanity. Indeed, it is foolish to try. The previous Demon Kings, barring Lucifer, who erased most of the memories we have of him, were all cruel. The Underworld never prospered under their rule. No… as I see it, his humanity makes him kind. If we are to evolve past crawling and scratching at each other, bathing in our own blood… then we too must learn to overcome our savagery."
They narrowed their eyes at her. What she was saying was antithesis to the demon way. But none interrupted. Even among the demon elite, Nevan was not to be taken lightly, especially not when she was close to the Legendary Devil Hunter.
"He will not leave this world," said Nevan flatly. "But he might not need to."
"Speak plainly, succubus," said Valkyrie, gripping the hilt of her sword.
Nevan looked at her almost pityingly, then sighed.
"Isn't it obvious? Plenty of demons are fine living as they are, killing each other over nothing. Mundus' army of no-good spawn comes to mind. Trying to control them is a waste of time. If anything, find an excuse to let that older brother, Vergil, loose on them. But if it is a worthy Demon King we seek, then we must first be worthy subjects. My solution is simple.
Demons who wish to change should make their way into this world. It is lush, full of resources and life. Free of the corruption of the Underworld, and the pollution of the human world we knew before. Humans are far fewer in number here as well. We can coexist with them."
As expected, protests were heard right away.
"Coexist? With those pathetic weaklings? With our food? Preposteroussssss!"
Malevar looked offended at the suggestion.
Valkyrie frowned.
"They are weak, foolish, treacherous and unworthy."
Even Atlas shook his head. As a demon without organic parts, he had no need for food or blood. Yet, he did not like the idea of living alongside humans.
"If demons were to somehow overcome their natural urge to feed and slaughter. Even then. Humans are fearful. And greedy. In time, they would turn against us."
Nevan's smirk grew.
"And that is why we will have a Demon King who is both Devil and human. He will be the one to bridge the gap between us. Where we fail to understand, to coexist, he will intervene."
The cabal's eyes widened.
"Think about it," said Nevan. "It is an opportunity to grow. One the likes of which we have never had before. We can live in peace. Dante is kind, and powerful. He can protect us against tyrants who may attempt to rise in the future. And he can forge understanding. Prevent conflicts with humans. To slaughter, to kill, to feed… these are our instincts as demons. But we… we few chose to follow Sparda. We did not understand his choice, but we were drawn to his strength. Now, we have a chance to understand. And to do that, we must venture into territory we know not."
Her eyes glowed, and her frame crackled with lightning.
"What will it be?!" she asked. "To continue with the old ways, or to abandon them, and bravely search for something else? Is our lust so shallow, that we fear failure? Is it not our nature, as descendants of Lucifer… to dive into the unknown? Choose, and choose now!"
The four members of the group dedicated to Sparda looked at Nevan warily.
"And if we refuse?" asked Atlas.
"If you attack the humans, you will be beaten down," said Nevan. "Dante will give you a chance to cease and desist. If you persist… well, at least your death will be painless."
No one argued with that.
Rumours of the time he had dispatched Argosax with a charged bullet to the head were the stuff of legend in the demon world.
A tense silence followed.
Until…
"Fine," said Valkyrie. "The law of strength cannot be denied. If this is what Dante wishes… then this is what we shall do. But how can we be sure that he will accept the responsibility?"
Nevan's eyes glinted.
"Oh, I have plans for that."
As the Lightning Witch began to explain said plans to the group, however, we leave them, and once more, focus our attention elsewhere.
This time, our destination is Beacon itself, where a certain Atlesian general, who had arrived for the Vytal Festival, was making his way to Ozpin's office.
James Ironwood looked around. As a military man, he held himself to the very highest standards, and expected nothing less from others. Having risen to the rank he held, one of his many responsibilities was to inspect troops, make sure they were ready for whatever tasks would be given to them. And so, as he walked, he inspected Beacon too. Though the school was not under his direct command, they were allies, and there was no way he would allow Ozpin to let his… maverick ways compromise readiness.
For the most part, he was satisfied by what he saw. While Vale was far too liberal and unruly for his own liking, there was no denying that Beacon was not inferior to Atlas in any way when it came to the strength of its students and graduates. Nodding slightly at the students he saw, he continued on his way, reaching the tower and riding the elevator all the way to the top.
Here, the doors of Ozpin's office opened as he approached, letting the General in. Normally, this was when Ironwood would see the man seated behind his desk, calmly greeting him.
Imagine his surprise, then, when he found the man down to one knee, breathing heavily, sweating.
Immediately rushing over to him, Ironwood allowed him to lean on his shoulder as he helped him up, supporting him and leading him over to his own chair.
In all his years of knowing the headmaster, Ironwood had never seen him like this. To be sure, he knew Ozpin's secret. His true identity, or at least, some part of it.
"What happened?" he asked.
Ozpin shook his head.
His formidable self-control built from being a millennia-old soul who had retained all his memories, built from meeting his gods and being chosen by them, was at serious risk of crumbling.
His mind was reeling.
What kind of power was that…
There was no rational explanation for it.
For a few brief moments, he had felt a force capable of bending reality like rubber.
He knew what it was, of course.
It was the same kind of power the gods had had.
But the scale was incomparable.
What nightmare has arrived…
This changed everything.
There was no way to contact the Twins. The only method to obtain some answers was to use the Relics. But that involved a host of explanations and conversations that he couldn't afford to have right now.
He shook his head again.
All his plans were in shambles. He couldn't rush into action.
Wait. Wait and see, he cautioned himself.
Perhaps whatever being he had sensed had chosen to leave Remnant. After all, he could feel that enormous power any more.
That is what he chose to tell himself. Deep inside though, he knew it wasn't true.
"It's nothing," he lied. "I was feeling rather unwell. Maybe this vessel is weakening quicker than I thought."
Ironwood's brow furrowed in concern and worry.
"Oz, if you need some help, I can arrange for the Aura scientists from my military-"
"No. That will be unnecessary. These vessels aren't meant to last forever anyway. It's quite all right, James. I'm fine now."
Ozpin straightened up, regaining some semblance of his normal poise.
Ironwood looked doubtful about the headmaster's words. But while he could push for information on a matter concerning the secret council, he knew Ozpin would reveal nothing about his personal secrets unless he wanted to.
"As you say," the General replied, walking around the desk and giving Ozpin some space.
He made his way to the windows and surveyed the cityscape of Vale. The docks were visible, and so were the arriving Bullheads, carrying Atlesian technology.
Ozpin sighed, clutching his temple.
Of all the times to deal with Ironwood's bullheaded approach of doing things, now was particularly inconvenient, to put it very mildly.
"James," he said simply.
"The Council of Kingdoms is not happy, Oz," the general said. "The increasing amounts of Dust being stolen, the growing reports of White Fang operatives in Vale…"
Ozpin, of course, was keeping track on all of that, thanks to a certain red clad warrior.
"We are already on it. The situation is far from out of control. On the other hand, bringing this kind of military presence into Vale will alarm the people. Negativity is something we cannot afford."
James looked at Ozpin sadly.
"It isn't in your hands anymore. The Council has appointed me in charge of the Festival's security. Rest assured, Oz. I will protect our people."
Ozpin made no reply. There was nothing to be said. He would have to do what it took to reassure the people. Damage control, in a way.
Ironwood turned away and made to leave the office, just in time to see the doors to open, and a familiar figure from his past to emerge.
"Glynda," he began. "It's nice to-"
He stopped, abruptly.
While it wouldn't have been entirely unusual for the woman to have reacted in a bit of a cold manner to him, that wasn't what was happening.
Her attention didn't seem to be on him at all. She seemed preoccupied, mind elsewhere. Moreover, she looked flustered, in a way he hadn't seen her before.
"What- Glynda, are you all right?"
By this point, even Ozpin had broken out of his thoughts, and was staring at the Combat Instructor, curiously.
She blinked, surprised, and shook her head, as though trying to bring herself out of a daze.
"Y-yes, I'm quite fine, thank you for asking. It is a bit of a surprise to see you here already, James. I hope you're doing well."
"I'm doing well…?" Ironwood answered uncertainly. This was a far more positive response than he had been expecting from her. Something was definitely up.
Ozpin, seeing that neither of the two were about to say anything comprehensible any time soon, decided to shift the conversation to something that did make sense.
"How was the first years' outing?" he asked.
"Hmm? Oh, we ran into a… complication along the way and had to return early, but Dante took care of it."
"Dante…"
Ozpin closed his eyes.
It was ever since his arrival that more and more beings from obscure myths were starting to show up in reality. It was quite likely he would have some answers about that power he had felt.
He'd need to ask him about it.
"Dante?" asked Ironwood. Something about the way Glynda had said the name irked him immensely, though he was under no circumstances going to let that show.
"Ah, yes," said Ozpin. "You haven't met him yet."
He paused briefly, savouring the satisfaction of being able to repay the General with a surprise of his own.
"Dante is a new teacher here at Beacon. He's also a special operative working with us. As a matter of fact, he's the one handling the situation with Torchwick and the White Fang."
Ironwood wheeled around to face the Headmaster, frowning.
"Then he's the one responsible for this me-"
The doors slid open again.
"Sorry I'm late. What did I miss?"
To understand exactly why the devil hunter was late, we need to go back in time by several minutes, to right after his return after the battle with Lucifer.
Forever Fall, Remnant:
Glynda Goodwitch got to her feet. She cleared her throat a few times, refusing to look at the man still lying on the forest floor, looking at her, slightly puzzled.
"Ahem. We will be returning now. The students have already been sent back. It was too risky to continue a collection mission with demonic presence around. We should go back too."
Dante blinked.
"So… are we going to pretend like this didn't just happen?"
Glynda resolutely refused to acknowledge the question. She wasn't quite ready to. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Not the fact that Dante had kissed her.
Nor even the fact that she had kissed him back.
Certainly not the part where she had liked it.
Absolutely, definitely not the part where she was currently imagining continuing exactly where they stopped, and going back to Beacon an hour or so later.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. "Obviously, you fought off some kind of demon. I have no idea how you disappeared and came back, but you, being the expert in these matters, took care of it without any trouble. Ozpin will be relieved. Come, we must report the mission's outcome."
So saying, she began to walk away. She had already signalled for transport to Beacon traffic control, so a small transport Bullhead should be arriving momentarily.
Dante stood up and stretched.
For whatever reason, she wasn't going to talk about it right now. She didn't seem mad at him though. He did hope he hadn't gone too far.
He'd ask her about it later.
He was done running away from things. If he'd made a mistake, he'd apologize and fix it. He had absolutely no intention of giving up on Glynda, not unless she turned him down.
For the moment though, his Scroll was vibrating. The other one, used for communicating with Torchwick.
As annoying as it was, a job is a job, and he couldn't afford to just ignore it.
"I'll make my own way back," he said. "You go on ahead. I shouldn't take long."
Glynda started slightly, looking… disappointed?!
"F-fine! Don't be too late."
Having said this, she quickly walked off.
Dante smiled slightly.
"Not bad. Living for real isn't bad at all."
With his newfound belief in himself, he transformed into his Devil Trigger without any fear. This was the fastest way to make his way to Torchwick and take care of this really quick.
With a jump, he launched himself into the air, spreading his wings and entering flight, a sonic boom going off as he did so.
Within seconds, he arrived at the location Torchwick had indicated on the Scroll's GPS.
Far up in the sky, Dante transformed back into his human state, summoning a series of Trickster platforms to jump down to the ground.
"A warehouse again? Come on, now you're just being unoriginal."
Shaking his head, he entered.
The criminal had already seen his real personality the last time they had met, so he didn't bother with the Tony Redgrave persona he had crafted.
"Well, here I am. Let's hear it."
Standing across the empty warehouse from him were Torchwick, Neo, Cinder, Mercury and Emerald.
"Redgrave," said Cinder. "It's been a while. I heard about how you salvaged the little… situation… at the docks."
Dante nodded.
There was no way they didn't suspect him. But for whatever reason, they had called him here. And that meant, there was something they believed he could do for them.
Which meant, he was the one with the bargaining chip here.
"Eh, think nothing of it," he said casually. "Look, I'm a busy man, so how about we cut straight to the chase. What do you want?"
Cinder looked slightly taken aback at his directness, but adjusted and kept her cool.
"Ahem. You haven't yet managed to eliminate that target, have you? Though it seems you are quite close to her, Professor."
"Yes, I have a day job. Didn't I say? I go where the money is. Beacon pays pretty well."
If Cinder knew he was a teacher at Beacon, he would admit it brazenly, let her know she wouldn't be able to use it against him.
Cinder blinked. Again.
This wasn't going how she had thought it would at all.
"I- I see," she said. "Well, you can actually forget about the target."
While a girl with silver eyes might turn out to be a problem, it could simply be regular eyes with that colour. She hadn't specifically gotten any instructions from Salem regarding Little Red. All she knew was that the girl had been a hindrance.
But much bigger goals needed to be accomplished.
"There is actually something you can do. You can help get us into Beacon-"
"No, can't do," said Dante.
He'd hit a jackpot. Cinder was asking for something big.
"There's no way I'm doing that unless I know exactly what you're all after. Call it… a working policy. I don't take a job until I know what it involves."
Cinder glared at him.
Her patience was at its limit, but attacking him was out of the question. Her survival instincts told her it would end badly.
Very badly.
Until she obtained the other half of the Fall Maiden's powers, Tony Redgrave was needed.
She clenched her teeth.
"We will be in touch," she said finally.
She could not give away information. Not without Salem's approval.
On the bright side, it at least seemed he wasn't loyal to Ozpin. Meaning, it was just a matter of convincing him to join them entirely.
Dante waved two fingers as he turned around.
"Adios."
He walked away, waiting till he was outside to Trigger again, and setting course for Beacon.
Present Time, Ozpin's Office:
"Sorry I'm late," said Dante. "What did I miss?"
If Glynda had been flustered before, that was nothing compared to what she was right now. Right away, one hand went to her free hanging lock of hair, brushing it back over her ear, even as her cheeks grew slightly red. She managed to sneak a look at Dante before looking away immediately.
Ironwood felt his jaw unhinge involuntarily.
It was like watching all his nightmares combined into one, and multiplied by infinity.
The man in red immediately reminded him of Qrow in all the wrong ways. He was more muscular, and sober. His hair was silver rather than black. But the feeling that he was the type to laugh at instructions and procedure? There was no mistaking that.
It was bad enough that Ozpin already seemed to trust him.
But looking at Glynda, it became exceedingly obvious that Ozpin's trust wasn't the only thing he had won.
Post Chapter Bonus:
Note: The events of this bonus section are NOT PART OF THE MAIN STORY OF THIS FIC. They take place in an ALTERNATE TIMELINE.
Lucifer smiled as he watched Dante walk into Ozpin's office. Yes, things were definitely getting interesting.
But he had to wonder.
The thing that had him curious was actually something he had heard a while back.
"That day… if our positions were switched… would our fates be different? Would I have your life, and you mine?"
It was certainly an interesting question.
And one Lucifer could actually find out the answer to.
For someone who existed outside of all the universes, and in all of them at once, someone who resided outside the flow of time, creating another timeline was not difficult. All he had to do was change one single outcome.
So, he found the moment when the two Sons of Sparda were entering the portals created by the dying Qliphoth… and he switched them.
But having him show up in the Forest of Forever Fall wouldn't be fun at all.
No, for the twin obsessed with power… a different starting point was needed.
He smiled, changing the destination the portal led to.
Land of Darkness, Remnant:
A portal ripped open the fabric of the world's space-time, and from it emerged a tall figure. Lean, but possessing wide shoulders, he was of light but athletic build, emanating simultaneously a kind of superhuman grace and air of nobility. His silver hair was swept back, rising towards the back of his head in spikes. He wore a black coat with torn tails. Along it ran silver patterns in the shape of dragons. Under the coat he was clad in leather trousers, boots and an intricate vest. In one hand, he held at his waist a black-sheathed katana. So natural was the way he gripped it, it seemed a part of his body.
The elder son of the Legendary Dark Knight looked around, taking in the sights of the dark red skies. His eyes narrowed in distaste at the sight of the corrupted pools that were everywhere. He recognized the signs of unlife. The place as a whole reminded him far too much of that pig Mundus, and the way he kept his domain.
He shook his head.
"How unsightly."
Immediately using Yamato to open another portal was an appealing course of action, but he was not one to leave as though running away.
If he found something distasteful, he would properly dispose of it first.
"You've got quite a mouth on you, eh?"
The voice came from behind, followed by flesh whizzing through the air as something rushed towards him.
The black-clad man had heard him coming from miles away, and not responded. To him, the would-be antagonist might well have been a turtle walking across tar.
The sharp tail was less than an inch from him when he finally moved.
Stepping aside and turning, he unsheathed his katana, slashing with speed that surpassed human thought.
The blade capable of slicing through the world itself flashed, before it was sheathed again.
All of this took place in a single movement, so smooth, so effortless, yet so precise, it was as though he was the living manifestation of Iaijutsu.
Tyrian blinked.
He didn't quite know what had happened.
A moment later, he felt himself slipping sideways. Wondering if he had been tripped up, he tried to adjust his footing, only to realize he couldn't feel his legs anymore.
As he looked down, he realized the truth.
He had been cut in half at the waist.
"Well… fuck."
It was so quick, there wasn't even any pain. Anger and fear were meaningless here. Tyrian had never stood a chance. It was like being angry at a storm.
Utterly pointless.
"As much as I didn't like him… I can't let you get away with that," said another voice.
The speaker was a large, bearded man.
As the swordsman looked on, he appeared to undergo some kind of transformation, his muscle mass increasing notably, as he bared his teeth and snarled.
The silver-haired warrior shook his head.
"Foolishness."
As the man rushed at him, he did not even draw his sword.
Raising a palm, he casually intercepted the man's charge, halting his momentum with absolute ease.
Hazel blinked, once.
All of his strength, which had never failed him before. All the Dust he had injected himself with.
All of it had been insufficient.
This seemingly slender warrior had strength.
In a single, practiced movement, the smaller man swept Hazel's legs and pushed downwards with his palm.
The resulting slam shook the ground, shattering it for tens of metres in every direction and burying the attacker's broken skull several feet deep in it.
By now, the Grimm who infested every inch of the Land of Darkness were beginning to stir.
In all shapes and sizes they emerged.
Beowolves, Nevermores, Goliaths, Deathstalkers, and so many more.
Serpents, dragons, centaurs.
All manner of the creatures of unlife came forth, at the behest of their mistress.
The lone warrior did not so much as flinch.
Out of the castle that alone stood in that land, a figure emerged. She was a human female, but taller, and had the telltale signs of corruption on her. Her skin was alabaster-white, with red veins visible on the surface. Black and crimson eyes glared at the warrior with hatred and anger.
"Who are you? How dare you enter my domain?"
The silver-haired man looked at her, feeling unpleasantly reminded of the way Mundus had once violated him.
His utter and complete disdain for her faltered. Just a little.
"Just someone passing through. Your hospitality leaves much to be desired."
"Insolent worm! You will die here!"
Perhaps because he was reminded of what had once been done to him, he decided to offer her what he never did to any who crossed him.
A second chance.
"You are on the verge of throwing your life away. Cease, and keep it for a while longer. Persist… and die."
Salem smiled in malice and rage, tinged with amusement.
"You think to threaten me? A lone huntsman? I am older than your kind knows. Let me show you power beyond your comprehension."
As she spoke, energy gathered in front of her in a sphere.
An invisible force grabbed hold of the man, keeping him in place so that he would not be able to dodge.
Salem released the energy in a concentrated beam. Just hot enough that it would burn. Not so much that it would slice through him. She wanted to hear him scream.
"How trite," said a voice drily.
Salem's eyes widened.
The man was not where she had shot the beam. He was standing a foot to the left.
She snarled.
"What trickery did you use? No matter. No matter what Semblance you possess, you will suffer, and die."
As she called forth on the magic she possessed, lightning crackled through the air, passing through the man's body as millions of volts shot through him.
Briefly stopping her assault, she telepathically sent a command to her hordes of Grimm to annihilate what remained of his corpse.
It was like an ocean of darkness washing over a lone figure.
He disappeared from view completely.
Salem smirked cruelly.
The loss of two of her pieces would be a setback, but only a temporary one. She had to admit, this latest pawn of Ozpin's was a little better than usual, but he would be no-
"You had been warned."
The witch stared at the sea of Grimm, believing for a moment she was hearing things.
OST: Bury the Light
From the midst of that sea, the same voice spoke again.
"But your arrogance offends me."
The sea began to tremble.
And the voice warped.
Overhead, the skies of the Land of Darkness changed, the influence of the god who had resided there being blown away like wisps.
Instead of crimson, the skies had turned deep, eternal blue, and pulsed with lightning.
"Power? Let me show you…"
A blast of cerulean light tore through the Grimm, shredding them so entirely, not even ashes remained.
Where they had been stood a single figure.
Hovering in the air, Salem involuntarily retreated.
The figure who stood before her was taller than any human. Lean muscle rippled on his frame, covered by layer on layer of razor sharp armour. It was as if nature itself had designed him for one singular purpose.
To be a warrior.
Proud horns jutted out of his head, and from them, as from his forearms, jets of blue fire emanated.
A pair of eyes gazed at her, glowing with untold might.
"What are you?" muttered Salem.
"Power."
Unwinnable Boss Battle:
The Alpha and the Omega, Vergil
Primal terror coursed through Salem, overpowering the grudge she held against the Twins.
She momentarily forgot her immortality.
"Destroy him!" she screamed. "NOW!"
From out of the sky, a dark dragon descended.
Salem had been saving this one for the destruction of Beacon, but it didn't matter now.
As the massive Grimm approached, the sky above it warped.
Salem's eyes widened in shock.
The storm clouds had opened up.
And from them, fell a rain of glowing blue swords.
Brutally, they tore apart the elder Grimm, going through its flesh like molten lead through hot butter.
"No…"
But it was pointless.
The elder Son of Sparda was laying waste to the army that had taken millennia to spawn.
Vergil dashed through the battlefield, running through the hordes even as he delivered countless rapid slashes, moving so fast he seemed to be teleporting.
Slash after slash after slash, each one landing with devastating precision, separating limbs from trunks, heads from necks.
The Dark Slayer was in a battle frenzy.
Within minutes, he had mowed down every Grimm in sight.
Even the Pools would not be able to spawn any more to fight him immediately.
Salem was alone, facing a nightmare she could not win against.
Anger and sorrow overcame her.
She had lost the ability to cry long ago. So instead of tears, blood poured from her eyes.
"Damn them. Damn the gods who did this to me!"
She stared at Vergil, hatred and defiance etched in her face.
"And damn you. For taking away the one thing I live for: vengeance."
Vergil, who had been about flick Yamato out one final time to deliver the Judgement Cut, paused.
More and more similarities were revealing themselves.
In a flash of light, he reverted back to his human form, much to the surprise of Salem.
"This quest for vengeance. Tell me about it."
The witch stared at the Dark Slayer, unease and distrust on her face.
"Why? Why would you care to know?"
Vergil wondered. Enough time had passed, and he was in a different location. He could simply open a portal and return home.
But, what did he really have to return to?
Nero and his brother would both do fine without his help.
And, truth be told, the idea of bonding with them represented an amount of introspection he was not comfortable with. He had learnt to accept his own humanity.
But that did not mean he was ready to open up.
"Call it… curiosity," he replied to Salem.
Perhaps, helping someone else overcome their trauma would be the first step to that.
"And if your story is interesting enough, I may choose to help you… in obtaining this vengeance."
Bonus Section: End
Author's note: The main story will continue from the next chapter. If enough people show interest, though, I might write a separate Vergil fic.