Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this story except those that I made up myself.

Side Note: A lot of the elements to this story are taken from many of the DMC games. The only continuity this story follows is of DmC, with other references to the others in both characters, objects, locations, etc. So if you see something in my story that isn't continuous with any of the original DMC games, please don't annoyingly point it out to me. I changed it/did what I did with it for a reason. And I mean that in the nicest way. You'll see what I mean eventually. :)

Additional side note: This story takes place after the events of Vergil's Downfall. If you haven't played it, I suggest you either play it or read a quick synopsis of its events so you won't be lost. Or don't...it's up to you.

Now, enough of the formalities. Welcome to my first DMC fanfic! Read on, and enjoy! :)

Underneath the protection of the black night sky, he was invisible. He hastened across the stone balcony, dipping his head and darting his eyes this way and that. Even though the cathedral was constantly guarded from the inside out, there were few other sentries mulling about. Nonetheless, he had to be careful. The Prince would not be happy if anything went wrong – and that was a modest way to put it.

The heavy, rusty metal gate creaked open as he squeezed himself past their spikes and into the graveyard. Four dead bodies lay in his wake, with bloody, fist-sized holes in their chests. With the sentries dead, no one would be able to follow him into the graveyard – not that anyone would want to. In fact, he kind of wondered why he was going there. Was this a terrible, horrible idea?

It's too late for doubts now, he told himself. You've sworn yourself to the Prince.

He made his way across the uneven hills and past the headstones, shoving all anxious thoughts as far back into his mind as he could. He approached the mausoleum safely protected beneath the canopy of scraggly, hanging tree branches. Drawing in a deep breath, he entered into the darkness.

The heavy door creaked shut with a thud, sealing him inside the mausoleum alone. Well, "alone" wasn't quite the way to put it.

The mausoleum was empty, save for a tall slab of smooth stone positioned along the back wall. It was nearly twelve feet in height, and at least eight feet in length. He bent down near the ground and retrieved a small candle from within his cloak. Half of the candle was black while the other half was white, and a wick extended from each end. He carefully lit each of the wicks and knelt before the wall, pinching the middle of the candle between his fingers and holding it horizontally. He drew in another deep breath, closed his eyes, and whispered, "Castor Price." Then, he blew out the flame on the white half of the candle.

Another deep breath. Every time they had one of these "meetings," he felt uneasy. Terrified and uneasy. And why shouldn't he? What have I gotten myself into?

He opened his eyes and whispered, "Mundus." Then, he blew out the flame of the black half of the candle.

He waited for several long, unnerving seconds before the mausoleum began to rumble. A powerful, heavy current began to surge through his veins like lead, weighing him down with terrifying power. This was why he did this. This was why he had sworn himself the Mundus, the Prince of Darkness. The power was intoxicating and captivating. How could he not crave it?

He rose to his feet and stepped back, watching as a red orb of energy began to grow before him, forming on the surface of the slab of stone. It started out no bigger than an orange. Then, it was the size of a beach ball. It grew until it blinded him and illuminated the entire mausoleum, exposing every spider and every cobweb. It covered the entire expanse of the stone wall.

He clumsily dropped to his knees before the orb of energy and dipped his head. "I've returned, Master," he said.

Moments later, the shape of a face formed in the red orb of energy. Its features were indistinguishable, but he didn't need to see the eyes to know his master was angry. "Have you recovered the information I requested?" the voice thundered.

He bent his head shamefully. "I'm…I'm working on it, my lord."

"Castor Price," he rumbled, "you are useless!"

"Please, give me more time, Master. I believe I've finally found a lead on its location."

"Is that all?" Mundus demanded. "You have a lead?"

"Well, yes. But I think that –"

"Your excuses sicken me."

"Please, my lord. Give me time. I'm very close to finding it."

"Finding it won't matter until you recover the amulets. You should know this by now."

"You're right, Master. Please, forgive me."

"Forgive you?" Mundus chuckled. "I'm not known to be forgiving."

A sharp, unbearable pain reached across his body, sending him to the ground in a seizure. He screamed out to free himself of the agony, but it was to no avail. With the power of the double-edged candle, Mundus shared his body, which meant that he could receive the Prince's power as much as he could receive his punishment.

He jolted and writhed on the ground for several long moments until Mundus released his hold on him. When he could finally breathe again, could finally control himself again, he sucked in heavy gulps of air. Tears streamed out of the corner of his brown eyes, and drool dribbled down his cheek on to the cold ground. His dark hair matted against his cold, sweaty forehead.

"Please…Master…" he managed to heave. He pulled himself to a sitting position and forced himself to meet the empty eyes of the red face. "Give me two more days. That's all I need."

Silence passed for several long moments. Finally, Mundus issued the verdict. "Two days," he confirmed. "If you don't return with the location of the Force Edge by then, I will kill you and find another to take your place."

His heart skipped a beat before he managed to reply. "Yes, my lord. I promise you, I will return with the information."

"The new Demon King has risen in my absence," Mundus grumbled angrily. "Once he discovers that I am resurrecting – if he hasn't already – he will try to find the Force Edge. We must beat him to it and destroy him so that I can reclaim my rightful place."

Castor dragged himself to his feet and nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"You must keep your eyes open for both him and the Nephilim," Mundus continued. "Once that scum realizes I am returning, he will no doubt try to stop the both of us. You have two enemies to watch for. Do you understand?"

"But, my lord," Castor said nervously, "I thought you said there were two Nephilim."

"There were," Mundus agreed. "And one has fallen against his own kind. The Demon King is the older twin brother."

Castor struggled to hide his genuine surprise. The sons of Sparda had turned on each other? How could that be? And what did it mean for the demon realm?

He cleared his throat and dipped his head. "I will watch out for them, Master."

"Since you can't manage the simplest of tasks," Mundus continued, "I am sending out some of my own to assist you."

Castor swallowed nervously. "Some of your own?"

Mundus opened his mouth wide, and from the orb of energy flooded several white, wispy streams of mist. They morphed into the shapes of humans and screamed blood-curdling cries of pain so loud that Castor had to cover his ears. He backed towards the wall, his eyes wide with panic. The ghosts circled the mausoleum like reckless spirits looking for an escape.

Mundus chuckled. "Do not fear them, Castor," he said, clearly amused by his servant's cowardice. "They are nothing more than lost souls. They will aid you against the Demon King's hoard of followers."

After a moment, Castor returned to his feet and uncovered his ears. The spirits settled in a line on both sides of Mundus. Their empty stares locked upon Castor, as if he was the enemy. The only hint of some humanity about them was the fist-sized heart situated in what should have been a chest, glowing in a dark crimson color.

A chill ran down Castor's spine. "And the Nephilim?" he asked slowly.

Mundus hesitated. "I suppose you will have to find his Achilles heel on your own."

Facing off against the Nephilim alone was a suicide mission in itself, Castor thought, but he had already sworn himself to Mundus – how much worse could things get?

"Two days," Mundus boomed, interrupting his thoughts. "Return with good news, or you can join these spirits in their endless hunt for rest."

Castor nodded and stepped back. "Yes, my lord. I'll set out right now."

The red orb of energy extinguished, and Mundus was gone. The mausoleum remained lit with the glowing hue of light emitting from the spirits, which put Castor more on edge than when he spoke with Mundus himself. He carefully turned his back and replaced his hood over his head, shoving the door of the mausoleum open. As soon as he did, the spirits rushed past him, screeching like vultures searching for a meal.

What was he unleashing?

Read on for a special sneak peek taken from "Chapter 2: The Dead Are Not Dead"

"Dante, we have to go!" Kat cried. She turned on her heel and raced out the front door.

Dante was hot on her heels, but as soon as they emerged from the house, they found themselves facing something even worse than what they'd seen inside.

The sky had darkened to near-black, and lightning streaked across the dark canvas. A funnel cloud was forming high above - No, Dante thought after a moment, that's no funnel cloud. It was a group of spirits chasing each other in a circle, shrieking and screaming so loudly that even the human passers-by on the street had to cover their ears. They stared up at the ghosts, murmuring in panic among themselves and pointing at the sight with fear.

"What the hell is that?" Dante breathed.

A large red orb began to form in the center of funnel, growing until Saturn's much smaller twin hovered in the sky. Then, the red orb assumed the horrifying shape of a human face. The humans on the streets began to scream in panic, some scampering back into their homes and others remaining awestruck.

The face released a dark chuckle, and it's empty eyes searched out the crowd below. "Nephilim," it boomed.

Kat and Dante exchanged worried glances.

"I know you've received my message," it continued. "You can consider it my warning."

"Message?" Dante muttered.

"The child," Kat said quietly. "When I touched her after she died, I saw him in her memories."

"Him?"

Kat's eyes glistened with panicked tears.

"The legacy of Sparda will be no match for me now," the deep voice resumed. "I invite you to take up the challenge and face me once more in two days time. Then, we will see who is the true ruler of humanity. Both you and the Demon King will fall."

The face laughed wildly until it disappeared altogether. The spirits suddenly stopped chasing each other in a connected circle and shrieked loudly once more, dispersing and disappearing altogether.

Well, that's chapter one! I hope you enjoyed it! Even if you didn't, read and review, please and thank you!

Chapter 2 will be posted next Friday. Count on it! :)