Long ago, in ancient times there was a war between the Human World, and the World of Demons, Hell. The Humans stood their ground towards the beginning, but began to fall in great numbers, their cries damning. It became little more than a slaughter. But someone from hell awoke to justice, and stood up to his brethren, alone. His name was Sparda. He rebelled against his own kind for the sake of the human race. Hell's greatest generals, its leaders, and its God-King himself, were defeated and sealed away. With his sword, he sealed off the portal to Hell, and our own Human World. Since he was a demon himself, his own power was also sealed on the other side. He continued to fight the demonic stragglers in the Human World, and eventually found himself a human woman willing to love one such as himself, Eva. She bore him twin sons. He reigned the Human World in silence, preserving harmony and sealing Hell's breakouts, smaller gates that cracked open from its sealing, up until his death. He became a legend. The Legendary Dark Knight, Sparda.

Darkness was all that could be seen. A blank, empty blackness. The flow of water could be heard and felt, rushing over his left hand, and his his left knee. The sound of the water rushing past him downstream breaking as it met a few rocks in the stream and the nearby banks of stone. The only sound he heard other than that were his breaths: ragged, exhausted pants from exertion of combat. Then more splashes were heard, footsteps. Not his own. A voice accompanied them. Slight cockiness, some exhaustion, and slight irritation were the tones his ears could pick up.

"What's wrong? Is that all you got?" A slight pause was given, a minuscule pant of exhaustion exhaled before the voice sounded again, "Come on get up, you can do better than that."

Slowly the hand in the water clenched into a fist. The effort slowly built up as his face turned into a grimace, his eyes narrowed in a glare as a snarl escaped his lips while he lifted his torso up. His body shifting with his legs to a slow combat ready stance. All of that was knocked off-balance as the ground around the two shook violently. His head lifted, his lips parting as his cold voice escaped in a warning to the other combatant. Ice cold blue eyes locked from their owner to the other's hidden behind a mop of white hair. Both faces were serious in their focus, their intent and drive.

"The portal to the Human World is closing, Dante..." a short breath of exhaustion escaped him once again. Quickly recovering, he continued his warning, "Because the amulets have been separated."

The enemy, his opponent, now named Dante, glanced down to his side as he spoke in a low tone, the hint of cockiness from earlier vanished into a more serious tone. "Let's finish this Vergil..." Dante's head slowly lifted, matching his own, his eyes dead set; his voice's tone lowered down, "I have to stop you, even if that means killing you."

Slowly, the man, now identified as Vergil, lifted his right arm, a massive Bastard Sword raised with a single hand at level, was given a flourish. He held the lifted blade out to his side as he began to step, his body leaned forward in a rush to his opponent. His opponent was already moving in a similar fashion with his own large sword, a Zweihander, its tip being dragged through the water and along the stone beneath it. Closer and closer the two became, until time seemed to slow. Vergil began to bring the Bastard Sword, named Force Edge, in an overhead swing.

Meanwhile, Dante had began to lift his blade from the water during the slowdown, the Zweihander, known as Rebellion, leveling to a wide, horizontal slash. The steps grew closer, the blades began to move with their wielder's arms. Two yells echoed out as the blades were drawn. A burning sensation ripped apart at Vergil's torso, his stomach had been split, he could already tell. The two ended several feet behind one another, a stream of blood following the slightly notched end of Dante's Rebellion, Vergil's wielded Force Edge held at his side in an uncompleted swing. Vergil remained firm for a few moments, his breaths shallow as he stood his ground.

That all fell apart as the burning feeling ripped through him again, sending him staggering forward onto his left knee. The Force Edge had begun to slip from his grasp, but his fingers quickly tightened around it. He was not letting it go. He noticed a golden chain in the water below his face, a scarlet gem gleaming up to his eyes. His left hand extended slowly to the amulet, clenching it tightly. Slowly, his torso rose once again, the Force Edge held loosely in one hand, before he willed it to vanish, another blade resting against his side, in its sheathe, a yellow sageo trailing loosely in the wind. A braided black and white Handle was visible before the golden guard, a faint image of an imperial dragon decorating it. The Yamato, Vergil's own keepsake from his father, just as the Rebellion was owned by Dante.

Slowly, Vergil's left hand rose, clenching the Amulet close by as he began to stagger as he backpedaled away from Dante, towards the end of the waters, the rush of water curving and falling behind him as he spoke slowly, with pride and exhaustion.

"No one can have this, Dante." Several gasps for breath were heard before he continued to speak, Dante's head began to turn to face him. He still stepped back, towards the edge of the falls. "It's mine, it belongs to a son of Sparda!"

Dante's eyes slowly widened in realization of what Vergil was planning, and began to rush towards his once more, only to be stopped by a lightning fast draw of Vergil's right hand, the tip of the Yamato resting at his throat. Vergil gave a tired smirk to his younger brother as he exhaled slow breaths.

"Leave me and go, if you don't want to be trapped in the Demon World." Slowly, Vergil's eyes left his brother, wandering over their surroundings as he continued, his face slowly returning to meet Dante's own, "I'm staying, this place was our father's home."

That was the original plan, anyways. For the two Sons of Sparda, things seemed to stop before the world faded around them. At the same time, Mary -or as she now decided to call herself by, Lady- stood at the top of the Temin-Ni-Gru. The tower was the portal and the initial seal to Hell as intended by the Legendary Dark Knight, Sparda. Above her head, a demonic red sky began to expand and contract in rapid pulses. Demonic energy could be felt pouring out of the sky in massive waves. On one of the contractions of the portal, she felt herself sucked upwards, into the hellish portal, only to fade into black herself.

Then everything changed.

The world went dark as the demonic portal exploded. Hell had been contained for far too long, and it was eager to be free. Its energy seeped into the world, flooding it, corroding it. Everything went dark. This is the forgotten history. The world from before had little left, and this is all that remains.

This world is a Remnant of what once was.

-DeViL-

Legends- Stories scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproducts of a forgotten past. Man, born from dust, was strong, wise and resourceful. But he was born into an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness, Hellish creatures, known as the Grim, set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void. However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to incite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help them even the odds. This power was appropriately named 'dust'.

With the very power of nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness and in the shadow's absence came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life. But even the most brilliant of lights flicker and die.. and when they are gone, darkness will return.

You may prepare your guardians, build your monuments to a so-called 'free world'... but take heed. There will be no victory in strength.

But perhaps victory is in the simpler things that are long forgotten. Things that require a smaller, more honest soul...

Several man were walking with an arrowhead formation through the middle of a street. None particularly standing out, all of them wore the same uniform, black suit and undershirt, with a red tie and black bowler hats. Each of them wielded short-bladed red-tinted scimitar blades. At the point of the arrow was a different man, walking with a cocky swagger. The man wore a white suit with a black undershirt. His neck was covered by a grey ascot, and in his gloves hands he held a curved cane, which he freely waved around as he stepped. The group approached a small shop, a Dust shop, and quickly entered, filling the front of the store. The man in white approached the counter, tapping out some of the cinders of his cigar to the floor before looking to the shopkeeper. He began to speak in a sardonic tone of voice, asking the elderly shopkeeper, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?"

At the end of the question, one of the men in black, which shall now be referred to as 'mooks' raised a gun to the old man's balding head. The old man stepped back with his arms raised, his wizened voice already in a desperate, pleading tone, "P-please... just take my Lien and leave!"

The leader of the group of mooks, gave the man a mockingly kind response as he looked over him. "Shh... calm down. We're not here for your money..." He glanced to each side of him, to the mooks who stood at the ready. "Grab the dust." At his order, the men began to spread out after opening a small case, each of them withdrawing a small black canister used to contain loose dust. The mooks began to spread out, applying their canisters to several tubes, draining the different colored dust supplies from each section.

One mook in particular went alone to the opposite end of the store, where he was about to hook up his canister when he spotted a young figure in a red cloak, with its hood drawn up. Quickly, the mook drew his short bladed scimitar and directed it at the figure, giving the order to "Put your hands where I can see them, kid." As he did, the male with the cigar began to order the elderly shopkeep to hand over several of the more potent, solidified dust crystals. In particular, a red gem, Burn, a fire Gem. Back to the mook, his patience was beginning to wear thin as he approached the figure, who didn't acknowledge his statements. With several quick steps, he pushed the figure's shoulder.

The figure turned around, the hood falling back to reveal a young, black haired girl with some crimson streaks listening to a rather large set of earphones. Silver eyes looked curiously at the mook, who began to mime at his ears. The girl lowered the earphones and looked at the man, completely oblivious, "Yes?"

"I said, put your hands in the air, now!" The mook's patience was beginning to wear thin at this point, a look of frustration plastered over his face.

The young girl's face remained rather confused as she looked over him. "Are you... robbing me?"

By this point, the mook had lost it. "Yes!" he exclaimed, exasperated.

"Oh..." Was the only reply that the young girl gave.

Meanwhile, the rest of the mooks were continuing to drain the Dust tubes, only to hear the thud of their compatriot hitting the window of the shop. They each stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the boss, before facing the girl. One mook in particular went along the same aisle the first one had, only to be repelled and sent crashing through the window, with the young girl's feet planted in his torso.

Slowly, the girl rose to her feet at a distance to the two mooks already forcibly evacuated from the shop, in her hands a large crimson scythe began to unfold. The girl looked over her should with a slight smirk before she began to roll the scythe in her arms, and over her shoulders, quickly burying the blade tip first in the street, an open challenge to the mooks. The leader of the mooks rolled his eyes as the rest of his compatriots stood there dumbfounded, his sarcastic tone of voice growing slightly irritated. "Okay... get her." He gestured towards the girl with his hand, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world to do.

The mooks charged out the door in a line and surrounded the girl, the first already charging towards her with his blade raised. The girl lifted herself parallel to the ground with her scythe as her balance, only to twist on her wrist twice, planting her feet firmly in the place of mook number one. He was out like a light before he hit the ground. Continuing her momentum, the moved with her feet, twisting the scythe's blade out of the ground and rolling in the air until she landed, the scythe's blade curling near her ankles. Slowly, the red cloak she wore began to wrap back around her form after it had trailed behind her motions, only to cover her hand, which slid to a trigger on the scythe's handle. With a quick press, a heavy caliber gunshot was fired off at the end of the scythe, the recoil causing the scythe to spin, with the girl freely flowing with it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your view, several mooks had the intelligent idea to rush her at the same time, only to be sent flying by the blunt end of the scythe. One unlucky mook received the end of the spinning momentum, the dull end slamming him into the street by his stomach.

Several other mooks has popped up by now, beginning to aim and take fire at the young girl. She began to fire off the scythe's rifle modification several times, using the momentum to perform rapid dodges. As she prepared to fire off another shot to rush into the mooks firing at her, there were several interruptions. One being the heavy whistling of a blade that buried itself through the barrel of the first mook gunner's weapon, leaving nothing but a rather large, onyx skull staring back at him. The mook fainted at the sight. The next sound that was heard was like glass singing through the air. A pale blue luminescent sword, similar to the first rained down through the next gunner mook's barrel. The blade cut cleanly through the gun, and promptly exploded in a shower of glassy shards, sending the mook flying backwards into the wall from its force. The last two mooks were now paused, a rather large screaming sound was heard, screeching towards the pair. A small rocket hit the ground next to the pair, sending them careening off to the sides of the street.

The man looked across the pavement, seeing his mooks spread out and seeing stars and muttered with yet more sarcasm, "You were worth every cent, clearly you were.." He then glanced up at the young girl and tossed his cigar to the ground, pressing it out with the end of his cane, "Well Red, I think we can all say it has been an eventful evening. As much as I would love to stick around..." The sound of police sirens became apparent in the background. The man raised his cane, only for a crosshair to flip up from its end, revealing itself to be a weapon. "This is where we part ways." He then fired off a massive red flare at the girl, who jumped and fired the scythe at the ground, its recoil kicking her up into the air as the shot exploded on impact. When the girl hit the ground, she glanced around for the man, only for him to have somehow already rushed up a ladder, making his escape.

The girl glanced over at the elderly man, who peeked his head out the door to check on her, "You alright if I go after him?" The girl's voice was young, but there was a serious conviction to her tone. The old shopkeeper nodded his head, and the girl ran off. She took a backwards glance at the street, the huge onyx blade was gone, its only mark of passing was the massive gouge in the ground at its point of impact. She quickly ran at the ladder, firing her scythe once again at the ground. The recoil carried her up to the roof, where she yelled out at the man to stop.

The man turned back to her with a cocky smirk and a mocking tone as a large hovership rose from the side of the building he stood at. He quickly climbed into the open side door, fingering the red Burn crystal he had stolen. "End of the line Red!" He tossed the crystal to the ground in front of the girl, who glanced down at it in confusion. When she looked back up, the man had his cane aimed right for it, and he took the shot. Another massive flare shot was sent surging at the crystal, and when they connected an explosion consumed the girl, much to the man's glee.

-DeViL-

When the dust settled, however, there was no broken body of a young girl. Instead, there were three, slightly older teens. Two with silver hair, and longcoats of Royal Blue and Bloody Crimson respectively, and a young woman in a white blouse, with small ammo pouches at her waist looking as if they were a skirt. The two silver-haired young men Stood in guarded positions, the one in red wielding the massive Skull pommeled zweihander in a defensive guard, and the one in blue held out his wrist, the an ornate black wood sheathe held out as if batting away the blast. The young woman had shielded the girl with her body, a large tubelike weapon on her back, complete with a bayonet was one of the most distinguishing features she had, the other being her heterochromic eyes.

The male in red glanced back over at the girl, giving a cocky smirk as he lowered his guard stance, his blade coming up and over his back, resting there somehow without a sheathe. "Hey kid, you alright?" The girl did nothing but nod before backing up in a battle ready stance, her scythe already pointed at the airship, which began to move. By that point, the young woman had already whipped out the large tube, an engraving of Kalina Ann was barely visibly on its side. She started pulling the trigger, only to toss several grenades immediately after, then reloaded the weapon. A rocket burst out from the bayonetted end, screaming towards the open door of the airship, causing the thief to panic, rushing into the cockpit, sending out a shaded female with arms and eyes that glowed like fire to the side door.

The young woman continued to alternate between firing, tossing, and reloading, by which point the younger girl had begun to fire at the ship as well. The slender figure in the doorway seemed to just block each and every shot taken with her palm, or a small burst of flame. The male in red gave a slight smirk as his arm began to shimmer with a dull grey light, an odd mechanical arm covering his right forearm taking its place in view. Slowly, the arm was raised, gathering in light, only to fire off multiple purple beams of light towards the ship. The man in blue was not one to be outdone, as several more of the pale blue swords began to hover around his form, stacking row upon row behind him. With a cold smirk, the swords seemed to lock on the ship's position, poised to pierce right into it. The swords then flew into the air, rapidly circling the ship, awaiting for their time to skewer its poor target.

The female in the doorways eyes had widened, her arms quickly shining with more of their burning light. She released a repulsive blast outwards around the ship, the some of the blades shattering in the first few rows, and then the doors closed, she ship beginning to flee. The remaining swords then began to storm down on the ship, but like his compatriots, seemed to have little effect, saving for taking gouges out of the metal on their points of impact. The ship quickly turned about, and made its escape.

As the ship made its escape, the two males looks over at eachother without a word, one giving a cocky smirk, the other giving a flat frown. The man in red glanced over at the young woman with a grin, who responded with a shake of the head as she holstered the Kalina Ann on her back. "Don't make me shoot you." The young girl was quiet throughout the exchange, although the expression on her face began to build. Of course, the tip of the iceberg had not been met yet, as a rather stern, slender young woman looked over them all from where she stood, her face a serious frown. When the girl caught sight of her, she finally overloaded. "You're a huntress! ..Can I have your autograph?" Her expression was one that was lit up with hope for one second, and then it was dismal, glanced off to the side in the next.

-DeViL-

The four of them were seated in a dark room, with no light but one hanging down over them from the ceiling existed. In front of them was a flat, empty table. It was an interrogation room at what could be assumed was a local police station. The young woman from before was walking around them with ehr stern expression, a holographic tablet in her hands as she watched the recording of the youngest girl's fighting of the mooks. "I hope you realize your actions tonight will not be taken lightly young lady. You put yourself and others in great danger."

The younger girl's expression fell even lower as the woman spoke, only to burst out in an attempt to defend herself. "They started it!"

The young man in the red longcoat gave a smirk as his head tilted. Silvery white bangs just barely covered over his eyes as he looked up and down the woman's figure, "If the others you are talking about is us, forget it. That was absolutely nothin'."

The woman's frown deepened as she looked over them, then back to focusing on the girl, "If it were up to me... you would be sent home." Her expression became a tad kinder, her tone softer. "With a pat on the back..." And she then cracked her wand/ crop to the table, startling the girl as she began to smile a bit, "And a slap on the wrist." She withdrew the crop for a moment walking off to the side as another person entered the room, still in the entrance hallway. "But... there is someone here who would like to meet you."

As she finished her statement, an older man began to move in from the hallway, carrying a mug of coffee in one hand, and a small box of pizza in the other. Slowly, he set the box down onto the table as he looked into the eyes of the youngest one in the room. "Ruby Rose... you have silver eyes."

Ruby began to glance around nervously at the proximity of the man's scanning yellow eyes, slightly leaning back. "Umm..."

"So..." the older man turned to the holographic monitor, showing the recorded combat she had been in earlier. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Ruby's eye cocked up slightly, stuttering in her response. "S-Signal Academy."

The man's expression became rather serious, his tone catching a slight edge. "They taught you to use one of the msot dangerous weapons ever designed?"

"Well, one teacher in particular" was Ruby's response, leaning slightly toward the box of pizza.

"I see..." The older man opened up the box, glancing at the others on the side of the table being 'interrogated'. With a nod, the man in red, Ruby, and the young woman each took a slice. The man in blue, however, kept his distance, preferring to stay seated, his hands steepled beneath his chin. Cold blue eyes looked over them all, watching the proceedings. The older man began to start up his speech once again. "Its just that I've only seen one other scythe-wielder of that skill before. A dusty old crow." He stated as he looked off, as if lost in thought.

"That's my Uncle Qrow. He's a teacher at Signal. I was complete and utter garbage before he took me under his wing. And now I'm all-" Ruby began to make odd poses, and typical karate movie sound effects as she did. The older man simply sat there with a straight face, taking another sip of his coffee.

"So I've noticed. And what is an adorable girl such as yourself doing at a school designed to train warriors?" The older man slightly leaned over the table, his palms pressed into its edges.

Ruby glanced up at him, slightly embarrassed by her own response, "Well.. I want to be a Huntress."

"So you want to slay monsters?"

"Yeah. I only have two more years of training left at Signal, and then I'm going apply to Beacon!" at this point, Ruby began to ramble on in her explanation, her speech growing faster and more frantic as she explained herself. "You see, my sister is starting there this year, and she's trying to become a Huntress, and I'm trying to become a Huntress because I want to help people. My parents always taught us to help others, so I thought 'I might as well make a career out of it'. I mean, the police are alright, but the Hunters and Huntresses are so much more exciting and romantic and cool and just amazing you know?" She glanced at the two adults on the other end of the table.

The stern young woman did nothing but deadpan, blinking at her for a moment. The older man, however, gave a slight smile to her. "Do you know who I am?"

Ruby did nothing but nod, smiling politely, "You're Professor Ozpin. You're the Headmaster at Beacon. It's nice to meet you."

"Hello... so you want to come to my school?" He leaned in slightly, glancing over her for a moment, and then the other three at the table.

"More than anything." Ruby nodded her affirmation, her tone slightly wistful.

"Well... okay." Ozpin gave a small smile. The stern woman in the corner rolled her eyes.

Ruby's face lit up in excitement, and then she blinked looking over the other three. "Wait, why are they here? Aren't they already Huntsmen and a Huntress?"

At this, Ozpin's face slid from a smile to an unreadable expression. "We have no idea. I do admit that they are skilled, but we have no information about them." He turned to the three Devil Hunters, his expression polite, but still curious. "If it would be no trouble, would you be willing to share your names?"

The man in red gave a cocky smirk, downing his pizza in an astonishing speed. "Dante."

The young woman with the heterochromic eyes glanced around, her expression rather stiff. "Lady."

Ozpin looked to the last one, the man in blue, who was looking over at the other two with a blank expression. He then looked back over at the older man interrogating them. "Vergil."

"Where is it you all learned to fight as you did? Those skills, those weapons. Not very common anywhere, are they?" Ozpin leaned forward slightly, yellow eyes alight with curiosity.

Dante did nothing but grin, doing nothing but flicking out his wrist, and seemed to reach into the back of his coat. When he withdrew his hand, the Kalina Ann was handed off to Lady, who had the same dumbstruck expression as Ruby, Ozpin, and the stern woman. With the tearing of metal, the large onyx zweihander with the skull pommel ripped through the wall, its grip sliding into his gloved hand. With a wink and a grin, he sheathed the blade across his back. "One of a kind, honestly."

Ozpin turned to look at the other twin, who merely shook his head, his left hand giving a sharp snap of his fingers. Black and purple smoke faded into a solid shape, the sheathed blade of Yamato was cool in his grasp. "Our abilities are none of your concern, nor are our skills and weapons." With a slight flick of his thumb, the blade of Yamato was exposed an inch from its sheathe. The table in the middle of the room fell to pieces, scraps and shards remaining as the blade clicked back into place.

"I see. You are more than welcome to join as well. I would insist it, to be honest." Ozpin stated with a rather small smile. The stern woman looked at him as if he had grown two heads, and then left the room in exasperation, tired of his antics.

Ruby Rose looked at the three with awe before she let out a squeal of excitement once again. Vergil cocked an eyebrow to her actions, Lady and Dante looked to each other and shrugged their shoulders in confusion, before Lady quickly grew a frown and whipped Dante upside the head with one of the pistols she kept concealed on her person. Ozpin looked over the group with a raised brow, then stood up, heading out of the room.

"The transport to Beacon will be arranged for you. Bring what you need, and good luck to you all."