"Yo, Credo? It's Nero. Morning, right? You guys are just waking up over there, yeah?"
In the bustling heart of a crowded street, a girl in a fancy tailcoat, twirling a cane like she's cosplaying some Victorian dandy, chats away in a phone booth. She's catching up with family, her voice cutting through the chatter around her.
It's not exactly a rare sight. In this country—especially around this city's vibrant streets—people in wild, flashy outfits are a dime a dozen. Nobody bats an eye.
"Dawn just broke? Oh, crap—sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Got caught up chasing some demons, and, uh… things went a bit sideways."
It's just past noon here, which means there's about a seven-hour time difference between her and her family. That bright blonde hair catching the sunlight? No wig—pure, authentic foreign flair.
"Kyrie? I'm fine, totally fine, don't worry. Yeah, can you hand the phone to Credo for a sec? Got some stuff to run by him."
This girl, of course, is Nero. After slipping through the barriers between worlds and leaving that Singularity behind, she's back in her own world.
Well… mostly back. Her landing was a little off.
"A week? Yeah, I know, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to go radio silent. It's just… okay, hear me out. I found a demon gate deep in the valleys of Mitis Forest."
"Yeah, it's handled. Smashed it to bits, no problem. But getting back from the demon world? That took a minute. Where am I now?"
Nero tilts her head, scanning the street beside her.
The place is a riot of color—blinding ads, massive screens flashing symbols, with a few scattered kanji peeking through the chaos.
"Right now, I'm in the new city of Wa no Kuni."
The geography of the Devil May Cry world isn't too different from the Fate universe—or even the world Nero remembers from her past life. But culturally? The nations here are a whole other beast. Probably the ripple effect of demons running amok and the legend of Sparda stirring things up.
"Send someone to pick me up? Nah, don't make a big deal out of it." Nero switches the phone to her other ear, a little embarrassed. "Look, I'm thinking of sticking around here for a bit."
"I'll come back, obviously. But…"
Nero takes a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she peers into the crowd. "This city's got a demon stink. A big one. I'm not leaving till I take it down."
Her senses are screaming—there's a lingering demonic aura all over this place. Something huge has been squatting here for a while. And it's not just big; there's something off about it. A vibe like Pavone's—a whiff of "original sin." This thing might just be a demon tied to some primal vice.
The city seems peaceful enough for now, but with a monster like that lurking? It's only a matter of time before hell breaks loose.
Then, a voice from the other end makes Nero pause.
"Money? Oh… yeah, you're right. Uh-huh. Seriously? Thanks!"
"ID and a bank account? I was thinking of hitting up Dante. Guy's got connections, probably knows a way to sort it out. Yeah, he's been all over the world doing mercenary gigs—bet he's got a fix."
"Alright, that's the plan. I'll let you know once the account's set up. Yeah… oh, Kyrie."
What follows is a flood of warm concern and endless advice. Nero nods along, throwing in the occasional "yep" until she finally pulls out the big guns: "Okay, Kyrie, chill—I'm not a kid anymore." That quiets things down, and she hangs up with a grin.
It's her first day in this city. The language is a bit tricky—half-familiar, half-foreign—but everything else? Not bad. And the language barrier? With her demon blood's ridiculous knack for picking things up, she'll probably have it down in no time.
Next up, she dials another number, this time to the DMC office across the ocean.
Unlike Fortuna's early dawn, it's midnight where Dante's at. Not that it matters—Dante's schedule is a lawless mess, and he's sprawled at his desk as usual when the phone rings.
"Devil May Cry~" he drawls, barely fazed despite being yanked from a nap.
The voice on the other end snaps him awake.
"Hey, Uncle Dante. Evening."
Polite but warm, with just the right mix of familiarity and respect—it's the kind of tone that'd defuse even Dante's worst morning temper. He knows exactly who it is. "Yo, Nero? What's up?"
The last time his niece called was to thank him for sending the DMC branch sign to Fortuna—a month ago. Dante still kicks himself over how a girl this great ended up as his niece. And don't get him started on his rotten luck with women.
Yeah, rotten—at least in his book. Most of his run-ins with gorgeous ladies involve a blade or a gun pointed at his face. Nero? She greeted him with a proper curtsy the first time they met. A curtsy. Who does that?
So how the hell is she Vergil's kid?
"Sorry for bugging you at this hour," Nero says, her voice apologetic but firm. "But you're the only one I could think of who might help."
See? Absolute gem. Dante doesn't miss a beat. "What's the deal? Another demon causing trouble? Where you at?"
"My bad, should've led with that. Yeah, there's a demon here, but nothing I can't handle. Problem is, I got sucked through a demon gate by accident, and when I popped back out, I landed in the new city of Wa no Kuni. I need some ID papers. Got any ideas?"
Dante raises an eyebrow. A week ago, this kid was just doing her thing, and now she's already taken a joyride through the demon world? He underestimated her. A grin tugs at his lips—Sparda blood, alright.
ID papers, though? That's a bit trickier. He leans back, racking his brain for old mercenary contacts. Wa no Kuni… yeah, he's been there. Anyone still around who owes him a favor?
Wait. There is someone.
"I got a guy," Dante says, half-sure. "Last name's Hazawa, I think. Never caught his first name—or maybe he never gave it. Fake names are par for the course with our kind. But I remember him saying he'd open a café when he retired. Start there. If you track him down, drop the name 'Tony Redgrave.' He'll hook you up."
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