Devil May Cry 4 © Capcom

Thereafter

One week later, Nero finally found what he had been looking for.

It wasn't easy. Whittling down the lingering devil population while having to work alongside with the remaining Knights that had become even more wary of him was mentally exhausting. Despite that, there was a very small number that he trusted enough to watch his back during the clean-up process, especially anything pertaining to the ascension process or Hellgate research in Agnus's underground labs.

"Are you SURE you have to do this?"

Nero couldn't help but smile as he dropped a stack of folders into the fire bin. Trust Mihail to question the destruction of the research. The young man lead the Order's police division, usually responsible for keeping civilians out of the way and giving first hand info to the Knights that handled the primary devil exterminations. Although Mihail rarely worked directly with the Knights, he got along with Nero well enough to have steady conversations, mostly exchanging combat tips or finding ways to sneak in the latest rock or heavy metal music.

"Can't blame him, Mihail. After this whole mess, I really want things to go back to normal. Well, as normal as we're going to get."

Azraeil was another Order member just a bit older than Nero and Mihail. The black-haired Knight had to take command of the Order's "special operations" division when the previous commander met his end when one too many Fausts overwhelmed him while trying to get a group of bankers to safety during the chaos. One would have thought Azraeil to be almost as cynical as Nero with a drier wit, given that they both handled "special assignments", but he usually carried a playful air that drew children to him. Like Mihail, Azraeil got along with Nero, partly due to the nature of their assignments and partly their love of tinkering.

"I'd rather we don't have another nutcase getting their hands on this stuff." Nero dumped another paper stack, mentally noting which pieces of equipment will probably have to be dismantled or destroyed. Maybe have the materials be recycled for the reconstruction. Now wouldn't that be a kick to Agnus's ass if the mad scientist was still alive? "Bad enough that demons would sometimes slip through whatever cracks we might not be able to find. Who wants extra doors for them, which means extra problems?"

"Well, you do have a point there," Mihail grudgingly admitted as he sorted out the notes, setting some aside that needed immediate destruction and a different pile reserved for further scrutinizing. Having grown up in a family of scientists (most weren't entirely too happy when he chose the police route), he had a better understanding of the chicken-scratch and Oxford-level words that neither Nero or Azraeil could decipher. "It's just... It's such a shame that all this research could've been used for better purposes."

"Nature of humanity, I suppose," Azraeil said softly. "We hide under those with power when we're weak, but at the same time, we strive to obtain that power to become stronger. Somewhere along the way, we sometimes lose sight of what we believed was supposed to be for the better."

"'Power...! Give me more... power!' And if I become a demon, so be it."

"Then... What about those that never truly asked for that power but got it anyway, if only for the desire to protect? Does that make them any more like the monsters they fight or those that actively seek it?" Nero whispered, barely audible.

The other two Knights had to strain to hear, but seeing his gloved right hand crumple the folder with a little more force, they couldn't help but share a bout of pity. They and everyone else who worked for the Order were being scrutinized heavily by outside governments, but Nero, being the proverbial black sheep, was considered with even more distrust than before by their own people and most of Fortuna's citizens. It was almost easy to forget how often they dismissed his rather cynical attitude and sarcastic comments that drew the ire of the higher ranked commanders. It was only because of Credo that Nero was usually let off the hook for anything that would've put any other Knight on suspension. Now, it wasn't difficult to realize the additional problems his devil arm would cause, the reason why his right sleeve was down at the moment. Benedictus, now the Captain as he was just under Credo and the highest ranking member, was already having his hands full on dealing with the rest of the remaining higher ups, compounded by the difficulty that he was one of the few people Nero respected and still trusted, even if it was a limited degree. At that thought, both realized that they had twitched whenever Nero's arm wasn't covered during the early days, and were deeply ashamed at themselves.

"For those... Even if they become something else in the process of obtaining power, be it willingly or by accident," Mihail started slowly, carefully picking his words, "so as long they have someone to anchor them, to remind them to stay true to who they are, I think that they'll be fine. No matter what they become, just so as long as they remember."

Blue eyes, so much brighter than before, blinked and a grateful smile crossed Nero's face. Azraeil couldn't help but grin when the younger man wiped his nose, as if embarrassed at the support.

Eventually, the files were packed and soon taken away by Azraeil's subordinates that he trusted to be discrete, so that it could be further checked through, whereas the machinery was going to take a bit longer to work through. Nero immediately turned down a corridor as soon as the last box left the threshold.

"Nero? Where are you going?" Mihail called out in surprise.

"Something for Kyrie," came the cryptic response.

The eldest of them looked over to the police division's leader, who shrugged before both quickly jogged to catch up. Wanting to ask whether Nero knew where he was going was moot, given from the way how he apparently made a beeline towards the ruins of the Order's old headquarter (the church was temporarily acting as the new one). Granted, they had to take several detours due to structural damages after passing through Mitis Forest, but Nero pressed on unerringly, taking out any leftover demons and Angelos.

For Mihail, it was almost disconcerting at how fast the younger Knight dispatched the opponents so much more easily when compared to the previous times they fought together. Back then, Nero would often toss out mocking comments that would send the demons into a blind frenzy, although Nero himself seemed to fight in a controlled frenzy himself. Now, he was doing it in a way that was a touch more predatory, just a bit more focused. The red-haired man might not ever know the entire story behind Nero's demonic arm, but watching him fight, he would gladly stay as his friend. A glance at Azraeil indicated the black-haired man was also of the same thought.

Eventually, the trio reached the remains of the enormous circular cloister that was used to hide the enormous statue during construction over the years, hints of scaffolding here and there as they climbed their way up to sections that were still standing. Mihail had to marvel at how nobody else outside the higher echelon of the Order had found out about the building or the statue (although he had an uncomfortable thought at what might have happened to those that did find out). Even Azraeil had been shocked when his former commander finally revealed most of the secrets - mostly where to find all the notes - during the ensuing mess before his unfortunate demise.

"What are you looking for?"

Nero ignored Azraeil's question, already heading towards a pile of rubble and immediately shoving away the debris after rolling up his right sleeve and removing the glove.

"Nero..."

"Credo's Durandal."

Mihail blinked at the abrupt answer, ducking reflexively when a large block of stone that Nero had tossed with the phantom arm flew by. "The commander's sword?"

"Dante said that he..." He paused, some of his hair moving when a breeze blew by. "He didn't leave much behind."

Silence as realization sunk into the older men and, after sharing a look, they pitched in.

It was at the fringes of twilight that moving aside the remnants of an arch they finally found the damaged gold and white sword. Almost reverently, Nero gently pulled the blade close to him, head bowed. Azraeil politely looked away while Mihail murmured a prayer that, for once, the white-haired Knight gladly listened to.

He refused to let anyone else carry it on the way back.

x x x x x x x

Kyrie had been surprised at the sheer number of people that had turned up for the viewing.

If one could call it a viewing, as there was no body to bury, but Nero had commented on how Credo used to admire the samurai of Japanese history and lore. How they lived by the sword and died by the sword, as well the notion of the sword being an embodiment of the warrior's soul. All that said, she knew and understood that if her brother had died by other means, he would've wanted his sword to be buried with him.

She had almost forgotten that for all the part he had played in the whole situation, Credo was still very much beloved by most of Fortuna's citizens. Many a well-wisher would often come up to her with stories of the kind deeds he had performed and gifts as a form of returning the favor. While there was some dissension at Nero's presence, the viewing proceeded without much incident.

As the last of the attendees left, she knelt down next to the open casket, Durandal gleaming from the sunlight coming through the windows.

When Nero had returned with her brother's sword, broken sheath included, and a quiet "Sorry it took so long to bring him home", she had all but hugged both weapon and man tightly, fighting back tears. Nero had taken upon himself to use the spare parts of Red Queen to repair Durandal, painstakingly and slowly replacing the damaged parts with extreme care. Fully repaired, he polished the sword until he could practically see his reflection on the blade. They would've commissioned a new sheath, but it didn't feel right to either of them to ask anyone else for anything at this time, so Nero did the best he could on joining the sheath with the strongest adhesive he could find, even if it meant leaving a visible line at the joining after a good polishing.

Running a hand over the Exceed mechanism and grip, Kyrie blinked when her vision became blurry and took a shuddering breath. Boots shuffled behind her and clawed fingertips - easily capable of puncturing stone and armor - gently stroked her hair.

For several minutes, they shared the pain and grief that they had been holding back.

"Y'know, at times like this, it's fine to let everything out."

Electric blue eyes glared at matching blue, but softened a bit at the somber expression on the older half-devil. "How'd..."

"Passing through and heard the locals."

Not entirely true, but not entirely false, Nero surmised while studying Dante. Bright red, such a stark contrast to the mourning black he and Kyrie were wearing. It reminded him of the blood that had stained Credo's uniform, the last time he saw his commanding officer. Yet Nero didn't had the heart to reprimand Dante - he was wearing something that could pass as a bit formal and he did had a black shirt on.

"All you found, huh."

A mute nod, letting a now weeping Kyrie go to hug the older hunter tightly, who patted her head somewhat awkwardly.

"You did good, kid. Definitely what he would've wanted." A wry smile, guiding the singer to one of the pews. "He wanted me to save you two, y'know?"

Surprise. "He did?"

A shrug, plopping down and crossing his legs, hands behind his head. "I'm not one to deny a dying man's last request. 'Sides, mutual feeling on loosing a sibling."

Nero tilted his head at that little tidbit as he sat next to Kyrie before gazing thoughtfully at Durandal. Higher than him in the ranks and often berating on his immature behavior, but at the most basic level, Credo was still his - their - older brother.

"Will you be staying long in Fortuna?" Kyrie asked, finally controlled in her breathing and wiping her eyes.

Another shrug. "Who knows. Just got here. You guys have things pretty much under control."

A thought niggled into her mind. "If... If it isn't too much trouble, could you be one of the pallbearers?"

Two pairs of blue eyes blinked in shock.

"Please? I... I think that C-Credo would be honored, if not at least give him some dignity, from a fellow swordsman."

Kyrie felt a little foolish, requesting something like that from someone she barely knew and only had a few scant minutes of meeting. A part of her wanted to blame Dante as the cause of loosing her brother, to blame him for her loss of something of a normal life. Yet Nero's Devil Bringer reminded her that the Order had been planning for a very long time, long before either of them were born and long before they learned of Nero's demonic heritage and connection to Dante. And Credo had believed that what he was doing was for the better.

She couldn't help but fidget a little under Dante's scrutinizing stare, but she didn't back down and lifted her chin, as if daring him.

"I'm not the type of guy to stay for funerals."

Disappointment from her and the beginning of a glare from the younger man.

"But..." A small smirk that seemed a bit gentler. "It's not like I have anything else to do at the moment while hanging around here." He winked. "So as long I get a strawberry sundae and a large pizza with no olives."

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other before bursting into laughter, her hugging Dante again with tears that weren't as grieving and him punching the older man in mock anger but with a genuine smile.

Out of all the gifts they had received so far, Dante's was the most cherished.

A/N: On Benedictus, his name in Ecclesiastical Latin means "blessed", plus benedico (present active) in Italian means "I speak well of". Since a variety of the Order's members were named after sections of the Ordinary of the Mass, it sort of made sense on the character Benedictus, the second part following Sanctus.

Played around with names of the archangels and their positions. Azraeil is Azrael, the Archangel of Death and thus black, while Mihail is Michael, patron saint of police and Red Archangel. I would've used more from the Heavenly Host, but I didn't like how it was coming out, so I had to ditch them.

Durandal is the name for the swords used by commanding officers, while Caliburn - not mentioned here - is for those used by the regular rank and file within the Order. Both names are from the Japanese-only "Devil May Cry 4: Devil Material Collection" and "Devil May Cry 4: Saber of Savior" artbooks (both are nearly identical, except "Devil Material Collection" has a few more pages), which contains a plethora of concept art on characters and enemies. Of course, both are names of two real life legendary swords: Durandal was said to have been used by the paladin Roland for Charlemagne (Charles the Great), and Caliburn was an alternative or earlier name for Excalibur.