Welcome back, everyone! As promised, I am starting on my next writing project(s). Now, some of you may be familiar with this story; as you can see by the title, "The Order of Sparda" belongs to Clairavance. She is a spectacular writer; one whom I owe the inspiration of some of my own works to. In fact, there are a few writers in the DMC universe I owe a great deal of my muse to, but Clairavance is certainly high on that list. Unfortunately, for one reason or another, she lost steam for this particular work somewhere part way through the thirteenth chapter. Originally, we intended to collaborate, but when she asked me if I would like to continue it on my own, I told her I would be more than happy to.

If you haven't checked out her work before, I urge you to do so. I cannot stress enough how great her writing really is. Without further ado, I give you "The Order of Sparda".

Disclaimer: I do not own this story; it belongs to Clairavance. The characters herein belong to Capcom.

Chapter 1: Level 1: Abduction

Muse: DMC4 Soundtracks

The house was dark and quiet when he jerked awake.

Nero stared up at the ceiling for a groggy moment as the comforting fingers of sleep uncurled from his weary mind. He instinctively turned to look at the head resting on the pillow beside him. The moonlight cast through the window pane outlined her figure with silver rays. Kyrie was huddled close to him with her one hand on the pillow between them. The sight of her sleeping peacefully beside him helped to slightly ease the strange feeling he had in his gut. Nero turned onto his side tiredly and felt her breath wash warmly across his face. He blindly scouted the bed for her other hand – it was an effort because his arm felt unusually heavy - found it fisted against her chest, and gently entwined his fingers through hers.

He lay gazing upon her beauty for a second before he realized what it was that had ripped him from his sleep. Something was in the air. His blue eyes widened as he peered over Kyrie to the bedroom door. Was that smoke? No. Too thin and too white to be smoke, and he couldn't smell anything. Could it be mist then? Nero grunted as he pushed himself up in bed, his instinct urging him to grab a weapon. He wasn't sure what kind of demon this was, or whether it was a demon at all, but he wasn't taking any chances. He'd nearly lost Kyrie once. He'd be damned if he let anything bad come near her again.

He wanted to reach for his gun in his bedside drawer, and felt his mouth go dry when his arm wouldn't obey his command. What the hell was this?

"Kyrie," Nero tried to speak but his tongue was thick and numb, and the only sound that escaped his mouth was a forced breath.

Shadows appeared in the doorway and walked into the room, breathing heavily through white masks. It only hit him then that the strange mist was gas swirling fast and effectively through the air. Nero lifted his Devil Bringer, the only part of his body he could move at all, and tried to focus his strength into crushing the trespassers. His arm flashed a bright blue that faded almost instantly.

Nero felt his body go limp and he helplessly fell back into the pillows. Hands lifted his head and something black and airy was pulled over his face. He had to protect Kyrie. He thought of calling a warning to her.

Then his mind stalled and dipped into a world without sight or scent. His nerves were dulled but he could discern the sensation of being carried. There was no sound but the loud, even breathing of his captors. The motion suddenly stopped as he was put down, and a clear, male human voice spoke near him.

"Three down, one to go."

Nero's body finally gave up the fight and yielded to the induced stupor.

~...~