The next week involved quite a bit of socializing and preparation for the big day. Night by night you trained, and although the week didn't give you as much time as you wanted, it gave you enough to get a feel for the Wolves, make a start with the community, and most importantly, teach the young ones how to harness their frustration into power. Power, that will hopefully be enough to block the Zealots off, and beat them by matter of attrition.

You feel as though you've gotten on pretty good terms with both Gideon and Ragnor, both of whom are simply great guys. You've noticed that, despite their differing ideologies, they have utmost respect for each-other, which is rather pleasant to see. Something that always lay at the back of your mind, though, was that Ragnor claimed that he was going to raid the City, regardless of what choice the group took, but you never understood that. How was he going to do that without support?

Still, the only thing you really feel sad about is the lack of time you were able to have with Cecilia. Even though you've trained together, you really wish you could have talked to her more often, about things other than unleashing her concealed persona: the werewolf. But, you manage to keep yourself jovial enough knowing that if you succeed at stopping the Zealot onslaught, you'll have all the time in the world with your new love. Additionally, you might even be able to learn how to read the mysterious hieroglyphs when times of peace are near.

Bright lights ahead, but you just have to reach it.

As the week passes, you all begin sitting in a circle daily, discussing the plan thoroughly, and then send out scouts to see if the Zealots are sending their men to raid your headquarters. The plan is simple; when you are alerted of the Zealot present, you will block off the entrance with any object available, then hide in secluded corners in the dark maze that is the well, and slowly pick off the Zealots as they pass.

Today is one of those days, and you are warily waiting for the knock from the scouts. Any day now, the Zealots should be coming. Time passes; you do this twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, to see if they're preparing for a night-attack or not. You hope it's at night, as the Creations would have an advantage, probably. Additionally, you wouldn't have to worry about sun-tan lotion, the tube Kelso gave you will run out sooner or later. And so you wait, everybody around you waiting in silence.

You hear the codified knock: Clunk-clunk-clunk.

Someone lets out a sigh-- today isn't the day.

You go out to train once more, reviewing everything, and then turning back to refill on blood. Gideon gives you a broken plastic-cup with maybe an ounce of his blood. You drink it slowly, savoring the taste. It reinvigorates you, like usual, and you set down to meditate, waiting for nightfall.

That night...

Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk

That's 4... Is tonight the night?

Ragnor's head poking out of the hatch confirms it, "Everybody, wake up, now!" Hearing this everybody assembles, bringing out spare Zealot armors and weapons. Indeed, even you're surprised by their efficiency tonight.

"Alright Wolves, tonight, we defend our home!" You announce, pumping your fist.

However, unlike most of your announcements, nobody but Gideon roars in applause. Ragnor approaches you with a laugh, "Sorry bud, I think we're making ourselves a new home, tonight."

"Huh?" You look around and it seems obvious that everybody but you and Gideon know what's going on.

Cecilia turns to you with a frown, "Sorry, love... but I can't live in this shit-hole any longer. I just... think it's time we took a stand. You understand, right?"

Gideon moves into the fray, sticking his finger into the taller man's chest, "What do you think you're doing, Ragnor? We, deh group, made a decision!"

Ragnor stares back at the hunchback, "Yes, and I made a re-vote, without the peer pressure the group is used to. Turns out, they trust the Church much less than you do, and think that surviving well is better than just surviving, uncertain if they'll get a next meal. We can be the new Human-race: 'Homo-Creatio,' us, the Wolves, Gideon. Think about it!"

Gideon just spits in disgust, "You fool! This is NOT how we're supposed to get continue! Ragnor, the humans "aren't much worse than we are, for there outlook is for survival as well. We can merge with them after showing how similar we are by not slaughtering them in their City!"

"I don't think so, friend. But if I were either of you, I'd join us for survival's sake only, no way can you survive the oncoming Zealots. I saw them-- several groups of ten and covering ground right now. It's either join us or meet your doom."

You look at Gideon, and his dark eyes just blink out, "Don't."

What it comes to, in the end, is whether you wish to join Ragnor and the rest to assault the city or stay by Gideon, alone and at the mercy of the incoming horde.
> You stand by Gideon.
You take a step back, standing by Gideon's side. "I'm sorry too, Ragnor. But I simply don't think think this is the way to go."

Ragnor stares back at you intently, before shrugging, "Alright then, Vamp. I'm not going to force either of you. But what about your ghoul?"

"David?" You look around, searching for him. He is currently standing stiff by Ragnor's side, parallel to you. You're surprised you didn't take note of this already.

"Yeah. I've talked to him, and he seems to sympathize with our cause. But, since I still more than an iota of respect for you," Ragnor pauses, giving you time to understand, "I'd rather not cause strife from after death between us. So, may I ask for you to allow him to come with us?"

With a deep breath, you firmly reply back, "If he really wants to go, then he can follow you to oblivion."

"That is all I want from you, Vamp. See you in whatever hell we end up in, eh?" He smiles and takes a hand out to shake.

You wave him goodbye, but don't shake, "See you on the flip side, man. Good luck."

Ragnor suddenly stands with a more serious attitude, and turns to leave, the Wolf Encampment. Within minutes, Gideon and you are alone. Silence dominates the room for a long while before you speak up.

"Gideon, the Zealots are on their way right now. What are we going to do?"

The hunchback takes his time finding a nice seat to reply from on, "Convince them."

"Convince them of what?" You ask, baffled.

"Convince them that we're the least of their worries."

"You mean sabotage the assault?"

"Of course. You have a better idea?"

"... I can't say, yet. But I can tell you one thing, none of my plans would ever include the possibility of leading the Zealots to kill our brothers!" You bring your palm to your brow, "Seriously, Gideon, what kind of idea is that?"

"One that preserves the sanctity of life that doesn't leech off of others'."

"And you don't think they'll turn right around to kill us?"

"Hey, if you can convince them we aren't actually Demons from outer space, then we should try that out first, but for now I'm satisfied with dying with the knowledge that I helped save the human race."
> You try to bring attention to Ragnor's groups.
"So you think the only feasible plan would be to divert there attention for the moment?" You frown, uncertain. The other option wouldn't make too much sense, considering that you fought with the Zealot army not too long ago, but this plan seems... distasteful, unattractive. You're betraying your brethren for those who believe you to be nothing more than a monster, people who believe that anything you do is without reason; good or bad, all mindless mistakes carried out by the Devil himself.

It's a scary thought to you-- people believe that about Gideon and me. While I'm not squeaky clean by any means, at least Gideon is willing to throw away everything just to save them!

Gideon begins to shuffle towards the hatch, "Come on, Vampire. We need to get the message out any way we can."

"Well, we still have a Walkie-Talkie that's probably useable."

He turns back to face you, and his eyes widen, "What? We do?"

"Y-yeah..." You reply, beginning to scavenge through the various in nicknacks the Wolves kept, and finding David's transceiver under the mess. "Nigh certain it still works, too."

He throws his hands up in return, "Then let's do that, genius." You grasp the radio firmly in your hand and get a vague feeling déjà vu as you once again dial it to the Zealot-channel. Click. It's on, sounding out static. You interrupt it with an additional button push when Gideon swiftly grabs it out of your hands. "What the hell, man!"

"I'm doing this." Gideon states, still pushing the button. "Zealots, do you hear this?"

The cool, female voice is back, "Err, hello?"

"This is Wolf-leader Gideon, Ma'am. I need you to call off the Zealots attacking our base, for your own sake."

"Um, we don't negotiate with evil, sir."

"No! God damnit Ma'am, I'm warning you because there are only two of us left in the hideout, the rest are on their way to attack your City right now!"

A pause. "We will look into it, then. Thank you for notifying us, whatever you are." You aren't able to identify her tone that well, but you hope it isn't sarcasm. Either way, she doesn't respond to Gideon's next reply, "Thank you."

The two of you sit down on a broken couch, unsure how to proceed further. "So, if they still raid our stronghold, it's over for us?"

"... Yeah. The way I see it, the best case scenario is that all the Wolves are wiped out by the C.E. Strike Force on the way. I just hope they find Ragnor and the rest after they get us."

"And you're okay with this?" You shout, baffled by this still.

He doesn't answer.
> You try to contact the incoming Zealots directly and try to get them to sympathize.
With amazing agility, you turn around to send a powerful roundhouse kick to Gideon, making powerful impact-- just enough to have him on the floor, but not hurt too bad. Meanwhile, you grab the fallen transceiver and angrily scold him, "What is the hell is matter with you, Gideon?"

He doesn't respond, though he sits cross-legged on the floor, staring at the floor as a child would. You sigh, and try your own plan at survival.

Click

You push the button in, too anxious to wait for the crackling static, "Quick, Ma'am, what's the Zealot's Combat Channel?"

It's the cool female voice, again, "Channel 40, why? Who is this?"

But you're already flipping the channels. Now, from 13 to 40...

Gideon sits up groggily, and watches you in silence.

"Incoming Zealots!" You announce, then release the button, and wait.

A heavy, though articulate-sounding voice replies from the other end, "This is Chief. Who is this?"

"Friends. Or, at least, those who want to be. We are the last Creations around, and we want to talk to you."

"What do you wish to speak about, Demons?"

"Mostly about your usage of that term. We want peace, nothing else."

"Huh?"

"We- we know you're coming for us and our hideout. But we don't want to fight."

You wait several moments for him to answer. "Give me your name first."

"Err, Vamp."

Gideon chuckles nervously in the background.

The man named 'Chief' gives a heavy sigh, "Right. And how do you want your meeting to be set up?"

"Any sort of meeting that doesn't include me being shot or speared by your guns sounds good."

"Funny. If you actually wish to do this then I'd wait outside for us to come."

"I... Think you misunderstand." You reply, rather certain about Chief's false attempt to mislead you, "Trying to kill us will not work out well for you. There are other Creations, actual evil ones that are heading for your city right now. If you don't stop them then you're city will be lost."

Static for a while. "Why do you not tell me this sooner?"

"... Do you even believe me?"

"Perhaps," he says, "We may send scout teams to check. But for now I'm interested in what you want to speak about. Are you a man of your word?"

"I try."

"Hmm..." Chief pauses, his low-voice ending awkwardly, "Give us ten minutes."

While you wait for him, Gideon just laughs, "I swear, vamp, if you pull this off then I swear..." He gets up with a wry smile.

"Let's just hope their scouts get good information." You reply, ironically trying to be as optimistic as possible. The chances are slim, but you think this could work out with your unlife intact.

Time passes, and while you didn't count how much you still worry that they may have ditched messaging and are just continuing their march to this area.

"Vamp, are you still there?"

You get out of your day-dream and push the button back to reply, "Yes."

"It... Seems you're right that at there are a band of unknown beings several miles behind us. But this doesn't mean as much as you would hope."

"Oh?"

"How many of you are there in all? What if there are actually much more Creations at your base?"

A reasonable suspicion,  "Then that's problematic for you. But I'd wager that your guys won't be able to take on the ten-or-so of the Creations on the way. So I think getting them first should be more important."

"Ah, but that is a good diversion for ten others to bypass us, eh?"

Ugh. You bring a palm to your brow, uncertain how to answer the perhaps rightfully paranoid commander.

He continues, "Still, you bring a solid point. I think you underestimate our capabilities, however. We will deal with both problems, but for now, how do you wish to meet?"

"I assume you know how to enter the well, correct?"

"Yes, we have figured out your trick."

"... Right, well, send yourself and several of your best man down there and we'll talk. There are only two Creations here, but I assure you we can defend ourselves from whatever harm you might wish to inflict on us."

"We'll be there."

And... Off.

Gideon looks to you, "What now, Vampire?"
> You prepare the meet-and-greet and hope for the best.
"We prepare by meeting them at the bottom of the well, like good hosts," you reply with a laugh, "If they kill us then they kill us, if they don't then we have a chance at surviving."

Gideon sighs, "You think they'll be able to stop Ragnor and his men, at least?"

"The Zealot name, 'Chief' seemed confident, but I doubt it. In Wolf-form, the Wolves can easily rip apart anyone in seconds, regardless of armor. Unless they send more than half of their troops all the way back to fortify the city then they have an issue."

"Let's hope they do." Gideon says with a frown. Well, you can go hope by yourself, Gideon. I'm hoping we both survive this ordeal.

The two of you wait for a while, unsure how to proceed. Eventually, you both head down the hatch and into the concrete cavern that is under the well. You make your way past the claw-scratches and to the end, where you notice Ragnor thoughtfully closed the plate from on top, instead of leaving it open.

"This is it, Gideon. Our moment of truth." You begin to say, trying to start a conversation.

The hunchback just nods in return, staring upwards to the closed opening, waiting.

Many minutes pass-by, and when something like an hour passes you wonder whether they abandoned raiding the base at all. You idly stand, shaking in place.

Sand slowly begins to pour out of the holes  the plate, the the miniscule dots sprinkling on top of both you and Gideon. Soon, a vague blue light begins to peek in, and you know that the Zealots are here.

You hear a crackling thud, and soon the plate is kicked over and you notice several flashing figures hunching over the well.

"You there, below. You are, 'Vamp'?"

"One and the same." You call back, "The man beside me is Gideon. You wish to come inside?"

You see some finger pointing from the three men surrounding the well, and one extremely built character jumps from the top of the well, using his armor as a brake by trying to grab onto the surrounding wall. You laugh inside, realizing that he obviously didn't notice the ledges on the other side of the cylindrical opening.

The man takes off his helmet, and what you see surprising you, though you;re not sure why. "I am the Chief." The dark-skinned individual introduces himself, bowing slightly. "I have brought exactly 32 men here, and the rest to find and kill the Demons approaching the City. Now, what do you want, both of you?"

Gideon stares at the man with a wide smile, though he doesn't speak. You sigh once again, "We want you to not kill us, to be frank."

Chief laughs, and calls upwards, "Samuel, Zadok, come down and meet these two... Gentleman."

Soon after he announces it, the two men watching from above the well jump in from behind Chief, crashing into the concrete with a loud crack. The dust settles, and the man continues, "The two of you don't seem too bad, but even the Devil can act gracious-- but that's acting. How can you prove to us that you're actually willing of redemption? How can I trust you?"

The two men behind him near, and although they aren't quite up to his size, they don't seem nearly as friendly.

"Well, for one, we warned you about the other Creations... Wait, how much men did you send to apprehend them?"

"Truth." He nods, "30, why?"

That's 13 Creations against 30 mortals; they'll be slaughtered... You consider how to answer, but Gideon interjects, "Chief, the Wolves on their way aren't pushovers."

"And neither are our soldiers."

"No," Gideon continues, "I've seen their leader in action. He is merciless and faster than anything you've ever seen. Your precious City won't hold up!"

For the first time, Chief seems alarmed, "Wait... You are the only De-- Creations here?"

"Yeah. We have no time to waste, then. If you want our support in saving the city, then we'll need your promise of being vouched for." You state firmly.

Chief nods, while the others watch you both, silent. "You got it. Now let's get get back, before it's too late!"

"Alright then," you say, "Let's get out of here while we can." To show them the way, you rush ahead, using the ledges to climb. Gideon and the Zealots follow you up, where you find a horde of patient Zealots, waiting for orders.

Chief raises his hands and yells, "RETREAT BACK TO THE CITY, NOW!"

The Zealots' formation quickly changes and you begin your march to the city, hoping you get there in time...
> You epilogue.
With silent haste, the troops march back to the City. The Chief's strict protocol helps bring the scattered clusters into more orderly groups walking in a rectangular form. You cover plenty of ground in a short amount of time, but the tension builds when a scout comes back with no report on where the Wolves are. By the time you all reach the City, it's darker than it seemed before...

Chief motions over to you, "You see, there?" He points to a corner of the City's hexagonal circumference, "The Sentries would usually be commandeering a light. But I don't see them now." He pauses to think, then speaks out in his powerful voice, "Enter Church-City in five groups of six! Never lose sight of a team member and ALWAYS watch your back. Also, remember to turn off your armor's flash. Now move out!"

Immediately, the Zealots begin to cluster together, forming the teams, and spreading out and marching into the City. Before his new team begins to enter the City, Chief brings you and Gideon over, "Now, how shall we stop the Creations inside?"

Gideon replies, "Especially now in the darkness, it'll be hard to defend against them. But otherwise it's find and then kill. Hope for the best, I suppose."

You don't have a much better answer. You can see that everybody on Chief's team is equipped with silver weapons, and that's the only weakness you know about. It all boils down to how much Wolves and Zealots are left inside.

With a sigh, Chief begins to lead his crew into the City while you and Gideon follow. Even in the darkness the City looks spectacularly flashy-- almost everything made of a flashy metal, with neon lights flashing up every corner. The clanging of metal boots on the harsh concrete makes any attempt of stealth completely pointless, but that doesn't seem to be the Zealot-style anyway. If anything, it looks like your team is looking for a fight. But, after marching through the otherwise quiet streets with no conflict, the group begins to relax slightly. Chief takes out his transceiver, and you can hear some muffled sounds coming from him-- but no response. You look around to notice only another group in a parallel street, but you don't see anybody else.

Several minutes pass, "Bizarre," Chief starts, "Only one out of the four other groups are responding. You think..." He trails off, but suddenly the world becomes more tense, and you all remain on high alert.

Out of nowhere, a huge blonde beast smashes through the metal door of what you can only suppose is a Church. The massive hulking figure is leaves a literal rip in the opening, and appears to be bleeding from the mouth-- though you're pretty certain it's not from itself. The werewolf stares in your direction, hungrily, and slowly begins to advance.

Terrified, the Zealots in your group begin to open-lightning on it-- though it doesn't appear to faze it in any way, aside from scorching its fur.

"Cecilia?" You yell, trying to distract it by waving your arms in the air. The beast pauses, but then continues pouncing in your direction. You quickly run up to it, and bring all your might into an air-splitting punch at the wolf's protruding jaw. It doubles over, but not before, in an act of desperation, making a huge swipe for the Zealots trying to spear it; about three Zealots were flung  several meters into the air and back to the floor, only not to wake up. Chief manages to sink the tusks of his rifle into the horrid beast before she turns back into your would-be lover-- Cecilia.

You spit, trying to make sure your emotions don't meddle with this. We must take back the City, for humanity's sake.

By now, even the other Group appears to not be responding... "Vampire... We aren't going to win this fight." Chief confesses, clutching at his healthy chest. "What do we do now?"

"You don't know that, Chief. There can't be too many Wolves left..." You reply slowly. As expected, the heavy bounding of paws is heard, and a black Werewolf, standing on its hind legs stares at the remaining of your group with its ruby eyes-- Gideon, Chief, and yourself. The surviving Zealots fled, no doubt to be killed by Ragnor: the black Wolf. With a horrible shriek of a howl, the Wolf slams it's paw into Chief, hitting awkwardly as he tries to dodge though sending him back long enough for the Wolf to focus on you, grabbing you with its paws-- digging his claws into your skin, and throwing your bleeding corpse almost an entire street.

Your body cuts itself on the concrete, and even though it heals itself you can feel the pain of a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist and several ribs. You manage to get up, albeit slowly, only to witness an Albino Wolf wrestling with a darker one, both relatively similar mass but different in proportion. The white one (Gideon) seems to be shorter, though more muscular, while the stygian Wolf (Ragnor) manages to be taller and much more overbearing; much like how they are in their regular forms.

You run towards Ragnor, hoping to help Gideon out in the fight, but the white monster eyes you while it struggles against the darker one, it barks in your direction, as if telling you to get the hell out of this while they duke it out. As Ragnor sinks his teeth into Gideon shoulder, a horrible howl is let out-- and it soon becomes apparent that Gideon it outmatched.

Taken aback, you meekly help the Chief up-- who's mesmerized by the masochistic display going on by the two forces at work. Gideon grasps the younger wolf by its throat, and manages to get on top in the scuffle. The two continue to exchange blows, blood squirting out into the floor, until... Gideon slows down, and with a final, angry bark-- he is killed.

Ragnor feasts on his killed with a hungry lust; ripping at his enemy's fleshy neck, and happily ripping out and crunching on whatever bones he finds. While Chief continues to blankly stare, you decide that its time you took action on Ragnor, and with the rage built inside of you, the death of Gideon; the one honestly good person you've met, manage to take the Wolf off-guard with a bull-rush. You sink your own claws into the wolf-man's throat, hacking into it. The heavier and stronger animal attempts to crush your midsection with its bare hands before you can kill it, but your swipes prove affective enough with the additional injuries Ragnor got from the White Wolf.

As the fight comes to a close, you find yourself soaked in blood and on top of a dead, un-regenerating corpse. You find the Chief bowing down to the floor, praying in a language you don't understand. After several moments he stands, in shock. Unlike before, there are no sounds; just the deathly chill of the wind.

"What-- what now?" Comes his pathetic voice.

"We... We find the other Creations, and bring them to justice." You bring a bleeding hand to your brow, "Think about it; this can't be the only civilization left, and there are bound to be other Creations wishing to do harm to others. But you and I, we can stop them. We can find a way through the desert."

Chief nods, "But I don't think I can carry on with you, for I just... My legs... they aren't moving!"

With a grin, you sink your teeth into his neck, and suck-- but not too much, just enough to ghoul him. The salty blood isn't as enjoyable since after today's events, but you'd be lying if you weren't.... Thirsty.

The former-Zealot stands erect, ready to be at your command. "Shall we be off then?"

"We shall."

You have managed to survive in your undeath and leave a possible legacy, but the questions remain! What happened to Kelso? What about the Professor? What could have happened if you had chosen a different path?
> You restart
Vampire.

Indeed, that is what Kelso called you. You can still hear his cold, baritone voice explaining it to you. Vampires in the tales of Fantasy are glamorized; nigh-immortal, sexually desirable, powerful. But, while you suppose you are some of those things, in truth, you are not much more than an albino with a lot of health issues. The sun, he said, will damage your skin more than anything else. Any sort of foodstuff can't be digested anymore by your barely functioning bodily systems. He claims to have an idea of what the 'Professor' was trying to do to us, but for whatever reason, he has dodged the questions anytime you ask.

Any information other than that, Kelso hasn't revealed. The irking thing is that it is obvious he knows what's going on, but he consistently acts as if it is in your own good you don't know what went on.

The nights have been hard since your escape from the Facility. Most nights you wake up shivering, after all the nightmares you've been dealing with. It's terrifying, and it only makes you wonder what horrible things were done to you at the Facility. You do know that they must have affected your ability to feel. No, not the wishy washy 'emotional' garbage you'd usually expect, but your sense of touch was dulled. While a lot of your senses have been heightened, that one stands out. You feel very little pain from your feet, which is odd; considering how you spent your time running over cracked glass just two days ago, but it seems to have healed recently.

---

Waiting. It should be sunrise by now. Kelso said you shouldn't get out, as you are a creature of the darkness now. He, on the other hand, has been out for the entire night and then some. You're not sure what Kelso is hunting for, but you know that you're beginning to get thirsty. More and more questions begin to build up, and no doubt the bastard won't answer half of them. Even while you ran with him through the night, running across various landscapes. Most are just a barren dessert, though every once in while you'd pass a half-buried house like this.

"Bright lights up ahead." He said. A city only several miles down. Kelso must have gone there for the clothes he mentioned, but you hope he's safe....


"So you think the only feasible plan would be to divert there attention for the moment?" You frown, uncertain. The other option wouldn't make too much sense, considering that you fought with the Zealot army not too long ago, but this plan seems... distasteful, unattractive. You're betraying your brethren for those who believe you to be nothing more than a monster, people who believe that anything you do is without reason; good or bad, all mindless mistakes carried out by the Devil himself.

It's a scary thought to you-- people believe that about Gideon and me. While I'm not squeaky clean by any means, at least Gideon is willing to throw away everything just to save them!

Gideon begins to shuffle towards the hatch, "Come on, Vampire. We need to get the message out any way we can."

"Well, we still have a Walkie-Talkie that's probably useable."

He turns back to face you, and his eyes widen, "What? We do?"

"Y-yeah..." You reply, beginning to scavenge through the various in nicknacks the Wolves kept, and finding David's transceiver under the mess. "Nigh certain it still works, too."

He throws his hands up in return, "Then let's do that, genius." You grasp the radio firmly in your hand and get a vague feeling déjà vu as you once again dial it to the Zealot-channel. Click. It's on, sounding out static. You interrupt it with an additional button push when Gideon swiftly grabs it out of your hands. "What the hell, man!"

"I'm doing this." Gideon states, still pushing the button. "Zealots, do you hear this?"

The cool, female voice is back, "Err, hello?"

"This is Wolf-leader Gideon, Ma'am. I need you to call off the Zealots attacking our base, for your own sake."

"Um, we don't negotiate with evil, sir."

"No! God damnit Ma'am, I'm warning you because there are only two of us left in the hideout, the rest are on their way to attack your City right now!"

A pause. "We will look into it, then. Thank you for notifying us, whatever you are." You aren't able to identify her tone that well, but you hope it isn't sarcasm. Either way, she doesn't respond to Gideon's next reply, "Thank you."

The two of you sit down on a broken couch, unsure how to proceed further. "So, if they still raid our stronghold, it's over for us?"

"... Yeah. The way I see it, the best case scenario is that all the Wolves are wiped out by the C.E. Strike Force on the way. I just hope they find Ragnor and the rest after they get us."

"And you're okay with this?" You shout, baffled by this still.

He doesn't answer.
> You await death.
Seeing your stunned silence, Gideon just closes his eyes, "Best get comfortable then. They'll find the hiding place soon, don't you worry."

Hopeless, you take a seat beside Gideon, and wait. Minutes turn to hours as you wait. After a long while, you hear footsteps approaching.

"They're here." You whisper to Gideon, who is unresponsive.

Suddenly, a small ball is tossed from the hatch, and it rolls near your feet. The last thing you feel is heat, the last thing you see is a mixture of fire and shrapnel, and the last thing you hear is the heavy grunts of Churchmen and the crackling of flames.

Death was actually quicker than you expected.

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.


You take a step back, standing by Gideon's side. "I'm sorry too, Ragnor. But I simply don't think think this is the way to go."

Ragnor stares back at you intently, before shrugging, "Alright then, Vamp. I'm not going to force either of you. But what about your ghoul?"

"David?" You look around, searching for him. He is currently standing stiff by Ragnor's side, parallel to you. You're surprised you didn't take note of this already.

"Yeah. I've talked to him, and he seems to sympathize with our cause. But, since I still more than an iota of respect for you," Ragnor pauses, giving you time to understand, "I'd rather not cause strife from after death between us. So, may I ask for you to allow him to come with us?"

With a deep breath, you firmly reply back, "If he really wants to go, then he can follow you to oblivion."

"That is all I want from you, Vamp. See you in whatever hell we end up in, eh?" He smiles and takes a hand out to shake.

You wave him goodbye, but don't shake, "See you on the flip side, man. Good luck."

Ragnor suddenly stands with a more serious attitude, and turns to leave, the Wolf Encampment. Within minutes, Gideon and you are alone. Silence dominates the room for a long while before you speak up.

"Gideon, the Zealots are on their way right now. What are we going to do?"

The hunchback takes his time finding a nice seat to reply from on, "Convince them."

"Convince them of what?" You ask, baffled.

"Convince them that we're the least of their worries."

"You mean sabotage the assault?"

"Of course. You have a better idea?"

"... I can't say, yet. But I can tell you one thing, none of my plans would ever include the possibility of leading the Zealots to kill our brothers!" You bring your palm to your brow, "Seriously, Gideon, what kind of idea is that?"

"One that preserves the sanctity of life that doesn't leech off of others'."

"And you don't think they'll turn right around to kill us?"

"Hey, if you can convince them we aren't actually Demons from outer space, then we should try that out first, but for now I'm satisfied with dying with the knowledge that I helped save the human race."
> You try to find a way to convince the Zealots you and Gideon aren't evil.
Regardless of the fights you've had with Zealots in the past month, despite the fact that you have brutally slaughtered dozens of Zealots before tonight, you realize that it is extremely important that now you finally attempt at settling the differences between you and the Church.

"We're going to survive this, Gideon. We can do it."

He lazily looks at you, and the yawns, beginning to recline on the broken bench. "So, you've hatched a plan?"

"Yeah," you reply, remembering that David probably left his Walkie-Talkie somewhere... You begin to dive through various clothes and various knickknacks that the Wolves have stored. "Aha!"

"Wuh?"

"A Walkie-Talkie. If we can try to reason with the Zealots, don't you think we can maybe convince them to not kill us?"

He gets up, "You never told me you had one of those!"

You nervously scratched at your head, "I... Kinda forgot about it as well. But it's great use for now, Gideon."

He waves you off, "Doesn't matter, you'll never reason with them."

"It's worth a shot," you say, crossing your arms defiantly. You unfold your arms and turn on the radio-- then remember that this would be Zealot HQ. Now you just need to fake being a Zealot again and get the station of the incoming horde...

Click

You push the button in, too anxious to wait for the crackling static, "Quick, Ma'am, what's the Zealot's Combat Channel?"

It's the cool female voice, again, "Channel 40, why? Who is this?"

But you're already flipping the channels. Now, from 13 to 40...

Gideon sits up groggily, and watches you in silence. "Incoming Zealots!"

You release the button, and wait. A heavy, though articulate-sounding voice replies from the other end, "This is Chief. Who is this?"

"Friends. Or, at least, those who want to be. We are the last Creations around, and we want to talk to you."

"What do you wish to speak about, Demons?"

"Mostly about your usage of that term. We want peace, nothing else."

"Huh?"

"We- we know you're coming for us and our hideout. But we don't want to fight."

You wait several moments for him to answer. "Give me your name first."

"Err, Vamp."

Gideon chuckles in the background.

The man named 'Chief' gives a heavy sigh, "Right. And how do you want your meeting to be set up?"

"Any sort of meeting that doesn't include me being shot or speared by your guns sounds good."

"Funny. If you actually wish to do this then I'd wait outside for us to come."

"I... Think you misunderstand." You reply, rather certain about Chief's false attempt to mislead you, "Trying to kill us will not work out well for you. There are other Creations, actual evil ones that are heading for your city right now. If you don't stop them then you're city will be lost."

Static for a while. "Why do you not tell me this sooner?"

"... Do you even believe me?"

"Perhaps," he says, "We may send scout teams to check. But for now I'm interested in what you want to speak about. Are you a man of your word?"

"I try."

"Hmm..." Chief pauses, his low-voice ending awkwardly, "Give us ten minutes."

While you wait for him, Gideon just laughs, "I swear, vamp, if you pull this off then I swear..." He gets up with a wry smile.

"Let's just hope their scouts get good information." You reply, ironically trying to be as optimistic as possible. The chances are slim, but you think this could work out with your unlife intact.

Time passes, and while you didn't count how much you still worry that they may have ditched messaging and are just continuing their march to this area.

"Vamp, are you still there?"

You get out of your day-dream and push the button back to reply, "Yes."

"It... Seems you're right that at there are a band of unknown beings several miles behind us. But this doesn't mean as much as you would hope."

"Oh?"

"How many of you are there in all? What if there are actually much more Creations at your base?"

A reasonable suspicion,  "Then that's problematic for you. But I'd wager that your guys won't be able to take on the ten-or-so of the Creations on the way. So I think getting them first should be more important."

"Ah, but that is a good diversion for ten others to bypass us, eh?"

Ugh. You bring a palm to your brow, uncertain how to answer the perhaps rightfully paranoid commander.

He continues, "Still, you bring a solid point. I think you underestimate our capabilities, however. We will deal with both problems, but for now, how do you wish to meet?"

"I assume you know how to enter the well, correct?"

"Yes, we have figured out your trick."

"... Right, well, send yourself and several of your best man down there and we'll talk. There are only two Creations here, but I assure you we can defend ourselves from whatever harm you might wish to inflict on us."

"We'll be there."

And... Off.

Gideon looks to you, "What now, Vampire?"


You sigh, somewhat content with the ability to choose for your group. "I agree with Gideon-- defending is probably the best option. After all, the humans... Even if they hate us, they aren't our real enemy right now." Gideon grins, and slaps you on the back. Ragnor shrugs, and heads to a splintered cabinet in the back of the room. He comes back with several cans, accurately labeled as 'beer'. With a grin, he begins handing them out to the 'adults' in the room and you. "Rest on the floor, Vamp. Today is a day of celebration, a joiner to our brood!"

With some large chants, Ragnor clicks open the can, and begins handing it to you. As you reach to take it, he immediately withdraws it. He lays it on the floor in front of you, then proceeds to bring a clawed index finger to his wrist above the can, poking deeply into it and letting blood slowly drip into the can.

"Hah, I forgot you can't really taste anything but blood. Don't worry though, this'll get you high on no one's expense, Vamp, enjoy yourself."

You laugh, scratching at your head for forgetting. You accept the bloody beer; while it's nothing compared to full blood, it's the most happy you've been since you got out of the Facility. It's nice to be part of a family. You and the rest of the Creations laugh and discuss the 'happenings' of the current world. You can't add much, but the leaders of the Wolves' collective stories are fascinating in their own rights, though. On top of it all, you think you've really hit it off with Cecilia-- the blonde Wolf.

The next couple of days fly by...
> You training. (Optional)
"Cecilia, please stop it." You say, pushing her off you. Thinking it through, it probably wasn't the best idea for you to personally trainer of the woman with mutual, though perhaps repressed for the moment, feelings for you. Regardless, she seems a bit too happy when she get close-and-personal with you during a sparring match. With a sigh, you look over to Ragnor and Gideon's respective groups-- it was a smart way the three of you ended up dividing the workload. Each of you would take 4 of the Wolves and personally trained them to defend themselves. Perhaps they gave you too much credit-- you're not a hundred percent sure what to do. Kelso was the one who taught you, but he seemed to recognize that berserking was the way you could unleash your full strength. You'll have to figure out how the Wolves were designed to fight, soon. On the plus side, you're very happy with you 'students', to the point that the names stick out in your mind. Shamino is a heavy-hitter, though surprisingly clumsy for one of his set stature; Haran is extremely agile, and almost vampire-like when it comes to fighting; and Cecilia, is, well, Cecilia.

"So, group, have any of you ever shifted into your were-forms?" You ask, gathering your group outside the dunes. In the dark of night, the flat land of sand that you found might seem unimpressive, but the fact that's it's mostly flat is more rare than one would think here; the landscape is usually riddled with smaller hills evrywhere.

"Not me." Haran says raising his hand, "Ragnor said that we'll turn only if our bodies deem it necessary. Or when there's a ball of light, but the moon isn't round tonight."

As the rest of the Wolves nod, you rub your chin in thought. "David!" You call, waving to your ghoul, who is walking around, aimlessly for whatever reason. "Can you bring one of the L-Bayonets?" He nods in response, and wanders back the to Stronghold.

"What do you want with the.. the guns?" The young Shamino asks, looking frightened. The other two Wolves seem to look disturbed as well,

"Don't worry haha. We need to train your fortitude as well as make sure you master your abilities. From what it seems, you haven't done either." You watch them idly, waiting for David to bring the gun. As much as it may pain you, you'll need to see what the electronic bolt will do to them. If all goes well, they'll be forced to morph. And only then can you get started...

"You want to force us to morph for you." Cecilia states, frowning.

"Not for me, for you." You emphasize with a nod, "The way learned to fight was when I had to unleash my primal being, but still pay close attention to my abilities and skills. If you want to defend against the the Zealots, then we need to see you morph."

They all gulp, but nod confidently. When David returns  with the rifle, you firmly grasp it and prop it up, "This," you shake it as as to bring it at attention, "is the Zealots primary weapon. The tusks at the end are sharp, and will probably pierce nearly any type of hide. Still, assuming you have any sort of health-regeneration abilities, that shouldn't be a problem. What will be a problem, however, is what this rifle shoots out. Lightning."

Silence.

You clap, "So, who wants to see who can handle the 'holy' firepower?" To your surprise, both Cecilia and Shamino raise heir hands fairly quickly. Even though you're pretty sure Cecilia raised her hand first, you aim the gun in then big Asian's direction, "Shamino, you ready?"

He nods, bracing himself as his team-mates slowly back away from him.

You unleash the shot, it's force even taking you off guard as it erupts out of the rifle's end. The green-blue bolt reaches poor Shamino almost instantaneously, flinging him several feet in the air and into the sand, causing a small sand-mound of his own. You and the rest run to catch up to him, hoping he's alright.

What you see isn't necessarily 'alright', per se, but it's what you wanted to see. What was a powerful Asian teenager is now a hulking, barely conscious furry monster. As it gets up, the snarling beast (about twice your height and thrice your width) begins sniffing around, it's eyes fully white. It's nose beckons in your direction before it lets out a horrible cry-- a howl. As your two students begin to run and David passively watches from afar, you find yourself at the mercy of Shamino the Werewolf. It starts towards you, walking on two feet and using it's other limbs to claw in your direction. While the beast begins it's charge, you take the initiative by jumping at it yourself,using the rifle's tusks as a range advantage. You stick the horns into the werewolf, though you're not surprised that it doesn't do much to slow it down. By now it has it's oversized arms around  you, crushing your body...

Click

A bolt of lightning shoots out, straight into the werewolf's stomach. More sticky blood oozes from its stomach, and ith a growl the beast releases you, if only to take the gun out from between its ribs. Once again taking the initiative, you send a slamming claw to it's snout, and follow up with a kick to its already bleeding midsection. While it pushes it back, it doesn't seem to do as much as you'd hoped. It takes the bayonet and uses it like a bat to hit you, leaving you breathless as you are flung into the sky, the heavy gun landing on-top of you. You cough out blood, and get up to analyze the situation: Ragnor and Gideon's groups have stopped training just to watch while David, Haran and Cecilia finally get into action. You run to catch up with them, and the unfolding scene would make you tear if you could; the three of them coordinate with each-other beautifully, with Haran both dodging the werewolf's blows and throwing sand at its eyes in order to occupy it, while the other tackle at it's heavy feet, just managing to trip it, and keep it there. It's not the greatest way to end a fight, but it's good teamwork.

By the time you reach them, Shamino is in his regular form, bleeding only slightly from his nose. He seems oblivious as to what happened, but you're excited team-mates are more than happy to fill him in. Several more lessons like this, and they'll be more than ready to fight the Zealots. After all, taking down a werewolf is much easier than a human.


"Ragnor, use those climbing skills of yours and find a way to seal the top of the well better. Can't have one of them dust storms filling the place, nor let any traveler find us like these two rugrats." Gideon says, waving for you to follow him and his goofy walking pattern. While the cloaked man begins to climb, you and David follow the hunchback though the stronghold of the wolves. It's a dark tunnel path, but several well-placed torches along the concrete walls give you enough light to make out peculiar drawings on the walls. Not exactly professional artwork or anything, just passionate claw-markings. But still...

“Hey Gideon,” you ask, examining one specifically for it's graphic nature, “What's up with the markings?”

The hunchback turns his head, but continues moving, “The writing? It's a code language we formed, mixture of all the languages the folks here are familiar with. It's more or less a system of simplified pictures, but you'll be able to read it if you stay here long enough.”

“Can you read this one out to me?” You make sure to stop and point it out; the writing here is different than the rest, even more picturesque than the rest. You can't hope to read it, but you do notice a recurring theme-- a cross and a pentagram. Not only that, but they're much less refined than the others, as if written with anger.

“That one is rather basic, I think I even went over it before. It basically boils to, eh...” He shuffles closer to you, and brings his large eye to the writing, “Peace is what keeps our humanity, for the Professor, cursed be he, uses strife to tear us apart. The cursed Creator wishes that we destroy our brothers in battle so he reaps the reward when it's over.” Gideon tilts his head back and continues forward, “I'd keep this in mind, vampy. I'm not sure why you're here, whether to warn us or to do devil's bidding, but I trust you enough to see you have no idea what's going on, so I'll be giving you the chance to give a little presentation for the guys here. By vote, we'll either agree or not. After that, it's up to you whether you stay or not. Got it?”

“That's all I could have asked for, sir.” You reply, hoping you can prepare them for the Church's onslaught next week. If not, then, well, you and your brothers are done for, regardless of non-violent intentions.

After several minutes of treading through the passages of the tunnel, Gideon stops to look up, even if his head doesn't lift that far. You catch up to where he is, noticing what he's looking at: an opening, light.

“That's our hideout.” The Wolf jumps up, grabbing onto some sort of ledge to bring his deformed body up. You watch his body struggle up it, land on solid ground (and then a lot of murmuring from above), then jump up yourself, making it up with ease.

The hideout is surprisingly low-key for the most powerful beings on the planet, but considering how they're just trying to survive a dimly lit room filled with sleeping bags and animal-carcasses strewn about is to be expected. The ragtag group that are the Wolves are surprising though; a thin man with dark hair, only to have a visible streak of white in the front; a rather hairy, though otherwise attractive female with dirty blonde hair who's around your age (early twenties?); several scruffy teenagers; a dark-skinned, mustached, and barrel-chested man; at least three of obvious Asian descent; and, of course, Gideon, pointing you out to everybody.

Most of them getting out of there bags, they begin gawking at you. You wince as the female eye you with interest, while the men seem to just want to know what you want so they could sleep. You motion to Gideon, and you get close to him and ask, "These are the Wolves? Not as... Impressive, as I thought they'd be."

"You're not exactly super-hero material either, child. Kinda stock; dark, straight hair and pale skin. Lean physique." Noticing you're confusion he just pokes at your chest, "What matters is what's on the inside. That's where power comes from. Remember that." He begins to raise his voice, "Now, this here is a Vampire. He has no name, so call him whatever you like, but he has some 'opinions' he'd like to share.

As your ghoul struggles up the hatch, you wonder how you want to persuade this group of lazy Wolves to prepare.
> You start it light; they don't seem very prepared.
Better not freak them out. Can't have them overreact or something.

You nod to Gideon, who seems to be acting commander of the Wolves. They gather around you, staring with glossy eyes and gaping mouths. "Right," you announce, clapping your gauntleted hands together, "I am a fellow Creation, like, uh, you guys. And gals!" You add in quickly before pausing, "While I am the only Vampire left, I am a Creation just like you. I have been fighting the Church since I escaped from Facility 13-- the last one. As I understand it, the Church has been trying to kill us, even after the Professor is out of the picture."

Nothing but silence from your audience as of yet.

"Um, so after escaping the Facility, myself and a... A friend," It didn't sound like Kelso's on good terms with the Wolves, he probably knew Gideon from way back when, "we trained in the sand-dunes, and went out to find the only Creations left. While trying to find you, the Wolves, we had to fight the Zealots, who were more than happy to send their troops at us. As you all are powerful Creations, I will leave it up to you to realize how easy it was to defeat them. But, I kept one as a ghoul, and he had something very interesting to say about you all." You look to David, who nods back.

"The Church has found out where your stockade is, and will send all their troops to finish the Creations here within a week." David says, blank-faced. Murmuring spreads throughout the encampment, and you can see several nodding their heads. Others seem more reluctant to believe it.

"So what do you want us to do with your information?" One asks.

"Well, there are multiple options. One; we can defend it, and train for when they attack. Two; we can go on the offensive and just attack the city, taking them by surprise. Or three; stay settled cozy here and get slaughtered by superstitious assholes. Up to you guys."

"Can't we also flee?" Another question, obviously there's a split in the group; some seem to be especially vengeful against the Church, others just want to be left alone. But everyone here wants to survive, you're certain of that.

"Possibly, though I doubt the Church wouldn't pursue you through the desert.

"... Why should we trust you?"

You consider the question for a moment, and realize that although you aren't lying, they have the right to be paranoid, "Because David was one of the Zealots, and he's just relaying what he knows. Heck, how do you think I found your hiding place? The Zealots know, and are getting ready to destroy everyone here. They believe us to be hellish creatures bound to Earth, and think that it's there obligation to banish us back to where we came from."

Mostly done, you watch everyone surrounding you. Gideon remains stroking at his scruffy chin, and the rest are just... Thinking.

Suddenly, the cloaked Ragnor makes a return, jumping up from the hatch. "So, what'd I miss?" He asks with a chuckle, taking his ruby-red hood off. Ragnor is a balding adult, probably middle-aged before he was reCreated. He's muscular, but not in the way Gideon is; he's extremely tall; lean and built.

"Nothing much," Gideon answers, "It basically boils down to whether we defend, attack, or not believe Vampy and the Ghoul over here." With a sigh, he looks scans everyone in the room, "So, shall we put it to vote?"

One of the younger wolves respond, "I believe the vampire. I don't see why he'd lie, and... The Church does plan to hurt us, no matter what colored lenses we put on. We are evil to them, aren't we?"

Gideon cracks his neck, waits for any other response (there isn't), and then turns to you, "Well, it seems like you can decide for us. If you want my advice, I thinking attacking the entire city is a bit drastic, though defending well would get what's needed done: Survival."

Ragnor glares at you as well, boldly standing parallel to the leader, "But going on the offensive will give us an advantage, for once. We just need to take the assault the City while the are on their way to our hideout. It'd be perfect timing to gain control of the city!"


Your mentor, the Ghoul, and yourself make your way through the remnants of the past world. Suddenly, it all makes sense to you. The world went to hell, and it was the Professor's abuse of his Creations that furthered it. Now, the Church hunts you all down for no reason other than to to give hope to 'real' humans. It's despicable, but it's the world you're in right now.

The hot sun beats down upon you, while your slave suddenly comes to a halt. "This is it." He blandly calls out, reaching down to the sandy flooring, and makes hand motions as to move some of the sand away.

You turn to wish your master a farewell, but he is already gone. Only a hazy version of him can be seen through squinting in the distance. So, it's just me and my Ghoul. Let's just hope it doesn't get bloody...

You follow David's beckoning, and bend down to see what he was unclearing. As your slave digs, more and more sand  seems to pile in. "What are we looking for?"

"They're underground, sir."

With a nod, you decide to help out with the digging. As you lay your hands on the sand, you thank fortune that you hadn't done this in the middle of the day, rather than just an hour or so after sun-rise. The sand would no doubt have burnt your fingers otherwise! Even though you and your ghoul are digging barehanded, it doesn't take too much time before you begin to feel the sand getting thicker, more doughy. With quick powerful stroke, you continue ripping through the sand, throwing it out of your radius, soon creating a little pit, low enough that you could stand up in it. After clawing at the earth with your servant for a while, you accidentally scratch at something... Hard, metallic. Underneath the sand lay a metal disk, with evenly-spaced holes around it's edge and the middle. Even as it is right now, it's fairly obvious that the disk is heavily embedded into the ground, and prying it out would no doubt prove to be a challenge. At first, you try just digging around and under it, but your efforts seemed to have been in vain; the plate appeared to be a part of both the earth and some sort of brick-well that goes much further down.

"You sure this is the place? You ask, making sure that this was the opening to the Wolf Stronghold. It'd make sense, as this is extremely safe from the Zealots, considering.

"Yes." Comes the monotone reply, "The few remaining GPS satellites pin-pointed this exact spot. We caught several monsters disappearing from under the sand here."

Now, how should we try to open this?
> You blast it open with the L-Bayonet.
"Move aside, Ghoul." You command, grabbing for the huge rifle you looted off of the Zealots you last killed. It truly is an amazing weapon, the bursts of lightning would be extremely affective against anything if caught off-guard. Of course, shooting at a metal lid may not be the most brilliant idea, but it's much cooler to try out than using your bare hands to pick up the metallic disk. With David the Ghoul backing away to the end of your pit, you aim and fire a blast of lightning at the plate.

You hear a loud thundering emit from your weapon as you're flung several feet back from the recoil of this weapon. Through the cloudy smoke you can still make out the the green chain of lightning strike at the plate, creating a large hissing sound.

Great, now the metal disk covering the well is visibly red hot, glowing a neon color and radiating heat from it. Your Ghoul sighs, though doesn't speak his thoughts, obviously as to not insult you.

"Err," You stutter, realizing your blunder, "David," (you use his real name this time), "would you mind trying to kick off the plate? It should be weaker now that it's almost reached melting point. Maybe."

Your ghoul shakes his head. He replies, "Can we try to use the bayonet's tusks to pry it open?"

You nod awkwardly, and near the searing plate with your rifle. Swiftly, but carefully, you fit the tusks in a slight opening where sand must have been embedded, and use whatever leverage you can to push the lid up. Thankfully, you succeeded in loosening the disk, which means that your rifle manages to carry the lid off of the well. The bad part? Well, the end of your rifle seems to have melted a bit. Perhaps it wasn't made to deal with anything but short bursts of extreme-heat, rather than a prolonged carrying-session. Still, it could be worse. David has a back-up rifle as well, so little harm done, considering.

After patting your Ghoul on the back for the idea, you begin to hear the sounds of running from inside of the well...

You shrug, and smile at your Ghoul, and then proceed to look down the brick-well...

It's dark, for one thing, and the sound of pattering foot-steps on concrete grows louder. Overcome with nervousness, you loudly blurt out, "We come in peace!"

Several dark figures appear from the bottom of the well, after several glances upwards at you and whispering, one of them waves you down. Shivering, you jump down the well, using the cylindrical bricks surrounding you to position yourself as to not fall on them. Still, you fall with a heavy thud. Yeah, I'm gonna need new sneakers.

Unlike yourself, David just goes down it normally, using the short metal bars protruding one of the sides, climbing downwards. The dark figures eye you carefully, taking a while to speak. One with dark gray hair and scruffy facial hair as well as a slouching hunchback of a surprisingly muscular body, points at your armor, "If you're a Zealot, I'd turn back right now. If you don't, then my friend here, the cloaked one, will happily snap your neck for making such a hideous racket."

His voice isn't too threatening, but his body language and thick-eyebrows suggest otherwise. He's clad in tight cloth shirt and pants, bulging with muscles, and is surrounded with an intimidating aura. The other one is completely cloaked, though watches your Ghoul with suspicion. "I'm not of the Church," you start, trying to make a good first impression, "and neither is he. Not anymore at least."

"Then what are you?" The gruff man calls out, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, I'm glad you asked. I'm a... A Creation, just like you. This is my Ghou--" By the time you uttered the word, 'Creation' he had already put you in a headlock. The cloaked one has already put your ghoul to sleep, though hopefully not forever...

The man continues, "What do you want from us, fangs-boy? I thought the rest of your clan died."

Clans? "No!" You exclaim, struggling out of his hold. You actually manage to surprise him with your strength and are able to push him off of you. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. But you're part of the Wolves, right? My associate and I want to join your strong hold."

After stabilizing, he spits back at you, "We don't need any joiners."

"Why not?" You argue, your body tensing. "The Zealots are planning to raid this place soon, and I figure you could use as much help as possible."

The old man continues growling at you, "What are you, some sort of message-boy for the Professor?" Well, at least that means they aren't working for him. "The Church means no harm to us at this point. It'd be stupid for them to attack us. If you're trying to make a powerful group do something out of desperation, then oh boy, have you come to a bad place, vampy. I'd go back to the sun, where the pain is relatively quick." He cracks his knuckles. If you weren't so confident in your abilities, you might have been intimidated by this Neanderthal.

"Then perhaps you should ask my Ghoul, David. He was a Zealot before I brought him to the darkness." You point at the slumped body on the floor.

"He's dead now, too late." The brute says with a cruel grin, "Snapped his neck, Ragnor did."

You laugh, "I don't think he'd die from that." You take several steps toward your slave, waving the cloaked man aside, you grab David by the cuff of his armor and pick him up, then bring your hand to his neck and snap it back.

David glumly states, "Hi."

The Wolf grits his teeth, "Didn't know Vampires could use their powers like that."

"Then you'll be learning a whole lot more during my stay here. What was that you were saying about being the last of my clan?"

He smiles back, surprisingly, "Oh? So you don't know. You're the last of the Vampire Creations, as the rest died in this desert planet. I'm surprised you made it this long since the last Facility was destroyed. But if you don't remember that, then do you even remember your name?"

"I'm afraid not. Can you at least tell me yours?"

The Wolf laughs, "Call me Gideon. The cloaked figure on the side is Ragnor, our residential assassin, even if fighting has little place anymore." He brings out a hairy, clawed hand to shakes yours.

You accept it. "So I'm in?"

"I'm still suspicious of your reasons for coming here, and your story about the Zealots needs some checking."

"Is it really that surprising?"

"Less that and more that we don't want to fight them." What? Seeing your confused expression, Gideon continues, "Listen here Vampy, I'd rather die and let humanity survive than not. And most of us here are ready for that. If the Zealots come to our turf then we'll wipe them out easy, but we're definitely not going to seek conflict, even if me and the boys can take those choir-boys out in an instant."

"Why not? They want to kill us all?"

He shakes his head, his face now grim, "The Church may believe that we're demons, but they also value the sanctity of life, so I doubt they'd come here. Regardless, they aren't all that wrong about us. The things we've done... The innocents we've massacred in our wake. It doesn't mean that we're bad now, per se, but what we've done is inexcusable. The World has gone to waste, and I'm alright if we don't survive to see it rebuild itself.

You stand in silence for a little while, realizing that you've joined ranks with the modern equivalent of the hippies.

Gideon grins again, "But don't worry about that now, let's close the lid on top of our well and then introduce you to the rest of the gang."


Curious, and perhaps a wee bit thirsty, you motion to the Zealot. "What's your name?"

"David." He spits, "Why?"

"Because your new name is... Slave." His eyes widen in horror as you sink your teeth into his soft and milky flesh, this time getting it on the artery. The blood squirts down your throat, and the high that you get is unimaginable. Sweet and slightly sour blood, like apple-juice. The euphoria you get is uplifting, and you feel... Happy. Power surges through your veins, and your stomach does happy somersaults as it absorbs all the nutrients from the Zealot's warrior-blood, and you continue chewing on his neck, trying to get as much as you can from this man before he falters. Just sublime...

"Goddammit kid, your mother must have been some sort of an abuser." Kelso says with a chuckle, pulling you away. "But I think that' enough drinking, your new slave is deathly pale, but still breathing, albeit very slowly and inconsistently-- a sign that you've drunk just enough." He points out, "But hats off to you kid, you've got yourself a ghoul."

You both stand, waiting for your slave to wake. The pale Zealot opens his eyes back up, a glossy look to them. He doesn't speak, but instead lazily lets saliva and a red substance that likely is blood ooze out from the side of his mouth.

Nervously, you command him, "Lead us to the Wolves hideout." He lazily tries to get up, only to fall back down again. "Now." Firm. He gets up, straight this time. With uncoordinated steps he begins to march, stumbling through the sand and skin beginning to redden from the sun. You shrug, and follow your new ghoul. By the time you pass the City the trek is already nearly over. You take another left from there, then a turn to the right... And soon Kelso directs you and your new slave to stop.

"This," he begins, "is where I take my leave."

"What?" You exclaim, "Why now? Didn't you say that the other Creations might be on the Professor's side?"

Kelso tilts his head to the side, "The longer I think about it, the less it makes sense. But I've been worried about something, and I'm nigh certain I'm correct on this."

"What do you mean?"

Your mentor walks to your ghoul, tugging at his armor's sleeve to get attention, "You, David, what does the Church know about Simon Kurschner?" Who?

The slave replies in monotone, "Can't be found or traced. Not among Creations, unknown if even still alive."

You raise an eyebrow, "Who's this Kurschner?"

"The Professor." Comes the reply from Kelso.

"But I thought our plan was to see if the other Creations know where the Professor is? Which could mean that they still serve him. Or not."

"Exactly. If the Church has no idea of his whereabouts, then it's unlikely the Wolves have something definite either. Even though the Wolf and I have had our  arguments, I still trust him enough to give you vacancy while I search for the Professor."

"So where are you going?"

"Anywhere. The world left is just a desert, and traveling by night only will waste time, which is why we have t split for the moment." Kelso frowns, and holds out his hand to shake.

You firmly grasp it, "Then stay safe, Master. I trust you will return soon?"

He stares at you blankly, "I have no idea how long it will take. But I believe in you just as well. You can make it on your own, especially with how you proved yourself today. Strong decision making and vast knowledge on how survival works have made you to what you are. There is very little that I can teach you that I even know. You shall grow past what I can even guess you can do." He begins to let go of the hand shake, but you hold on.

Tightly. "There's one thing that you still haven't told me."

"And what's that?"

"How the World came to this pitiful state."
> You kelso's tale (Optional)
Kelso sighs, "Too true. It is about time I fill you in on the details, even if they're hard, even for me, to recall. It was a spread of about two decades. Surprisingly small for the whole world to collapse, but when shit hits the fan it has to either be cleaned or it'll spew out everywhere," he chuckles, motioning the Ghoul to continue the walk toward the Wolves. The story will probably take a while... You begin reanointing your sun-tan lotion while your mentor explains what happened.

"Years before you awoke, the world was in complete order. Governments were somewhat conciliatory with each other, and liberty and justice was preserved. It didn't take too long before the peace was endangered, the militant Religious-- like the Zealots," he shoots your Ghoul a glance, "began rioting, terrorizing less fortunate countries and gaining power there. While the governments were large and powerful, they were inexcusably... lazy when all this happened. Soon, this spread to the more developed places on Earth, like this continent. For a little while, these religions were corner-stones of society, but this weakened it. People were scared, and fear makes the common man do things they wouldn't do otherwise. To say the least, the 21st century was not off to a good start. And it slowly, but sneakily, went downhill from there.

"Amidst all this, the earth was a beautiful, natural place. Ecosystems filled with life and splendor were everywhere. Civilization was at its peak, human beings were able to do wondrous things like fly, and cure almost all illnesses and conditions using scientific means. The methods used, of course, bothered many 'men of God', like your slave. They wanted to stop progress in the name of a deity long dead. After years of struggle, they were quieted to close-knit communities, and had no impact on politics and scientific progress. During this struggle, the terrorists began gaining traction. Even worse, new viruses began infecting parts of the globe, and the irresponsible Governments continued doing nothing, until it was too late. Developed countries or not, many fell ill of the horrible new diseases, and the Old-Zealots started to control more and more land, becoming the dominant force in most places. That's why the world turned to desert and we've already found a lot of remnants of the Old World buried in it; they were pillaged by the hordes of humans, and as the population dwindled, plants weren't tilled. Soon later, there was drought, and the entire world as we know it has become a giant Dustbowl, just mixed in with disease and raiders. Simon Kurschner became the 'man with a plan' for years during this. He garnered enough support from the local governments with his experiments to get funding, as well as a whole Facility to save the human-race. His science was new, revolutionary even; and while many disapproved of what he was doing, the Professor was recognized as the last hope of humanity."

"What'd he do?" You ask, with vague memories coming back. Tidbits of information allow you to remember, but not enough...

"He created me and you. He found a way to create human beings with extraordinary powers, with abilities of legend. His Creations were disposable humans; ones who were going to die regardless. Even though he had no authorization to do so, he began using these dead bodies for his experiments. He gave the dead and dying new life, even with a price. The first experiments he made were immune to disease, and he said he hoped to save the human-race this way. But that wasn't true, he wished to rule what was left of the human-race with his new super-soldiers. Kurschner sent his Creations to fight the Militants, with each one as powerful as you or myself, ten of them made easy work of five hundred Zealots at a time. His new humans were invincible fighting machines, and all under his control. Similar to ghouls, only a step above that.

Regardless, even after the Militia problem was solved, the Professor began to mass-produce his Creations, each of them ravaging wherever they went, unregulated. Under his command, they annihilated whatever was left of the World Governments, and soon came upon humanity. The bastard trapped us in capsules, letting my friends out just to go on psychotic rampages on the humans opposing the Professor. That's where the other Zealots, of the Church, come in. Even though they were smaller at the time, they managed to push the Professor back  by exploiting the Creations' specific weaknesses, and silver. They managed to destroy most of his Facilities, fighting against what they thought, and still think as, the devil. They grew very large as well, and have taken part of what is rebuilding humanity, with religiously-suited technology and a brand new gospel. But absolute power corrupts absolutely, and they ordered their men to kill any Creations left, regardless of malevolent intent. Our Facility, Facility 13, was the last one standing. By then the Professor was on the run, but the New-Zealots were laying waste to any of his work, believing that they should reset the World, like God did in his bible. Fueled on fear-mongering, the only human societies left rely on fighting evil, us, even though they massacre us now, as if it's open season. But no, they believe we are the Devil's work, and as such our sentience means nothing to them. So we run, and we fight, but only in self-defense.

Now we're back in the Dark Ages, all thanks to the Professor, and once again, the Church." He kicks at the sand with a frown, but continues marching with you through the beautiful, though dead landscape, reminiscing about the world that was.

You barely speak throughout this, considering all of it.


Shrugging the thought of not having Kelso around, you collect the armors of the Zealots, turning the flash off and equipping them. They won't save you from everything, but they will certainly make you physical attacks stronger, if only because they're reinforced by cold metal. You wear everything but the helmet, since you like having your vision unrestricted. Kelso does similarly, putting on the armor, leggings, and boots. You also decide to take one of the undamaged rifles; good weapons, and more effective on humans than on Creations, ironically.

After the slight diversion, you bring your attention to the rousing Zealot. Kelso points him out to you to deal with. With a cruel smile, you walk over to him, bringing your gauntleted hand to his armored helmet, and begin to squeeze.

That wakes him up.

He cries in agony, as his helmet soon becomes a 'custom-fit' of sorts. With your one hand, you pick him up by his face, and just hold him in mid-air. "Kelso, are we just interrogating him here or somewhere else?"

"Here's fine."

You shrug, and drop the Zealot on the floor. He groans in pain, bringing hands to his face to try to take off his helmet; he couldn't do it. "Tell you what, if I take off your new skullcap if you tell me where the other Creations are."

He looks up pitifully, nodding. Carefully... You peel off the horned helmet from his visage.

"You killed Sebastian, didn't you!" Is the first thing that erupts from his lips. That, and some spit. You back hand him, bloodying his face further and causing him to fall back onto the sand.

"Location, now. Or you end up having a worse fate than Sebastian."

The dark haired Zealots looks at you with menacing eyes, "I don't consort with demons. I will die with honor."

"That's not what you were saying when your face was in a can." You laugh, and Kelso gets on one knee, beckoning closer to him.

"You can become one of us, if you like. Be one of the damned, and survive the hell that is God's world. Just lead us to where the so-called 'Wolves' are."

"I won't sell out that easy, demon. Sebastian was a brother before you bastards killed him!" The agitated cripple would be somewhat intimidating if he wasn't in such a pathetic situation.

"Then it's time you became family." Kelso looks at you. "Try ghouling him."

Your eyes widen, "What do you mean, 'ghoul'?"

"Drink from him until he has only the minimum amount of blood he needs. He'll become one of us. Well, half. He'll also follow our commands in that state. For the first couple of days. An eternal slave." Your mentor grins. The Zealot, however, is horrified.

"No, don't! Don't drink from me, I'll get you to the Wolves, I promise! I'll even tell you when the Church is to attack their base. Everything, just don't turn me into one of you! Stop!"

Oh, so very tempting. But kind of... Evil, is it? Is there even a line anymore, after what I've done? Kindness will only hurt you at this point, and a side-kick if Kelso ever leaves is tempting...
> You let him guide you willfully.
"I'll have mercy on you now, Zealot. But don't even dare try to cross me." You state, giving him the evil eye. He noticeably gulps, then nods. Kelso rubs at his chin, probably thinking about the other Creations. Your mentor likely knows the head of the Wolves, but if you'd guess that there is some sort of bad-blood between them. God knows what.

"So, what's your name?" You ask, trying to make communication easier.

"David, sir." David starts, getting onto his own two feet. "David Crowe... Son of the Lord."

You sigh, "Cut the bullshit, 'Dave'. Tell us all you know about the Wolves."

The Zealot tenses, as if worried about something. "I... The Wolves are on the other side of the Dunes, from where we are, we need to just go straight past the City, go several miles down East, and then search for a burrow, of sorts."

Kelso raises an eyebrow, "What is the Church planning to do? If they know such an  exact location, they must be planning on doing something."

David nods, "Yeah, the Church is planning on raiding the burrow, taking them by s confused.urprise and purifying them."

"Purification?" You ask, confused.

He rolls his swollen eye, "Death by burning. It is said that you abominations will be going to hell, but by burning your soul is destroyed, so you won't suffer. Unlike you two bastards, the Church keeps the World To Come in mind!" Kelso pushes him forward.

"Lead then."

He takes a deep breath, and leads you through the desert, passing the City that never stops flashing, and moving from there right. As you make the treacherously long walk, you notice the sun begin to rise. "Kelso! Do you still have the lotion?"

He nods, looking like he's glad you remembered. David chuckles nervously while you lather the lotion on your face, the only uncovered part of your body. Even while the sun reflects it's light off of your creamy-white head, you feel your skin itch. The lotion is definitely something to get used to. MAybe you could get a hat later so this wouldn't be as much of a problem.

You, Kelso, and David find the spot. At least, the spot David brought you to.

"So, where's the pit?" You call out, beginning to search around the area for it with Kelso.

David stays behind, "It should be there, somewhere."
> You continue searching for it.
Odd. "Alrighty then..." You mutter,  searching the ground for any sort of opening. Several moments later you hear a boom as sand is pit at the back of your head, as well as the vague sound of someone screaming... Kelso?

Son of a bitch...

"IT'S A TRAP!" You manage to yell out before something horribly metal clamps on to your leg. "You're going to die for this, David!" You call out, though he's already limping away.

Shit, he probably still has a transceiver... As you leg heals enough to get unstuck from the clamp, you begin to sprint through the field of traps, mines exploding as you trigger them. Several burn your feet, but others give you just enough momentum...

You leap, easily catching up to the lying coward, and ruthlessly digging into the back of his skull with the momentum of the jump and the sharp ends of your gauntleted fingers, killing him almost instantly when you feel the mushy part inside (the brain?). Thirsty, again, you drink from the blood pouring from his head, barely realizing one of your feet were blown off in the explosion! Once you realize it, you begin to cough out all the blood you slurped in shock, unsure what to do. You see Kelso muttering in the distance, running away with more success than you are.

It doesn't take too long before the Zealots arrive, catching you red-handed, and finishing you off with several bursts of lightning.

You have died by the hands of the Church.


"I'll have mercy on you now, Zealot. But don't even dare try to cross me." You state, giving him the evil eye. He noticeably gulps, then nods. Kelso rubs at his chin, probably thinking about the other Creations. Your mentor likely knows the head of the Wolves, but if you'd guess that there is some sort of bad-blood between them. God knows what.

"So, what's your name?" You ask, trying to make communication easier.

"David, sir." David starts, getting onto his own two feet. "David Crowe... Son of the Lord."

You sigh, "Cut the bullshit, 'Dave'. Tell us all you know about the Wolves."

The Zealot tenses, as if worried about something. "I... The Wolves are on the other side of the Dunes, from where we are, we need to just go straight past the City, go several miles down East, and then search for a burrow, of sorts."

Kelso raises an eyebrow, "What is the Church planning to do? If they know such an  exact location, they must be planning on doing something."

David nods, "Yeah, the Church is planning on raiding the burrow, taking them by s confused.urprise and purifying them."

"Purification?" You ask, confused.

He rolls his swollen eye, "Death by burning. It is said that you abominations will be going to hell, but by burning your soul is destroyed, so you won't suffer. Unlike you two bastards, the Church keeps the World To Come in mind!" Kelso pushes him forward.

"Lead then."

He takes a deep breath, and leads you through the desert, passing the City that never stops flashing, and moving from there right. As you make the treacherously long walk, you notice the sun begin to rise. "Kelso! Do you still have the lotion?"

He nods, looking like he's glad you remembered. David chuckles nervously while you lather the lotion on your face, the only uncovered part of your body. Even while the sun reflects it's light off of your creamy-white head, you feel your skin itch. The lotion is definitely something to get used to. MAybe you could get a hat later so this wouldn't be as much of a problem.

You, Kelso, and David find the spot. At least, the spot David brought you to.

"So, where's the pit?" You call out, beginning to search around the area for it with Kelso.

David stays behind, "It should be there, somewhere."
> You wait a second...
You hold pout your hand. "Kelso, wait up."

He turns around, "Found something already?"

You look at David with an hungry grin, "Not what we're looking for, but good enough." You raise your voice, "David why don't you join us?"

The Zealot's eyes go wide, as he shakes his head and repeatedly says, "No." Over and over again. Kelso laughs, and slowly approaches the Zealot.

"What trap have you attempted to lure us to, son of the lord?" The last bit dripping with sarcasm. You take an unfortunate step toward him, when it all goes black for a moment.

You find your ears deafening as you tumble forwards, firey mines exploding from beneath your feet. You run across the landscape, fire erupting all around. You eye the Zealot, angry, and noticing him running away and talking to his... fist? Shit, why didn't I take away his reciever?

It's too late now, and it doesn't take long to reach the coward, but among this you find yourself looking on the optimistic side; if you didn't catch it earlier, who knew what would happen?

But you still fear what will happen now. You sprint behind him, barely overtaking him even with your flayed legs. You flick out your wrist, and throw your arm at him, your body almost falling with pain and missing him by an inch or so. Determined, you continue the arm motion, turning your arm around your body once again, twisting your body in a circle, gaining just enough momentum to slam your clawed hand at the back of his head. You feel his brain hitting the back of his head as he slumps to the sand, dead as can be.

You look around; Kelso is nowhere to be found. Your body feeling heavy, you realize that Zealots are approaching from afar, and you suddenly black out again, probably due to the heat...
> You wake up.
An extremely... Blue, room is what you wake up to. Very bright, to the point you have to squint to make anything out. Worst of all, your skin begins to get irritated, and your efforts to get out of the chair seem to be futile. You scream, but your muscles seem to be neutralized. You simply can't get up.

"UV-lightning, like it?" Says a robed figure, appearing out of an opening of the wall. You hear a clanking noise and steam rises when the opening is closed, making the opening close, the room is glows with the calming blue. The robe the priest is wearing is also blue, with white stripes. You notice, from a slight creak in his robes, that he has some sort of shiny sword in there. For whatever reason, you feel it from several meters away, your stomach hurting. "Don't worry, that just means that it's working. You demons can't afford to be in the sun, so the closest thing to it would logically bother you in some way."

You notice that the bearded holyman, complete with a large blue skullcap, is terribly... Old. It's surprising he can move so much, with his crooked back and pruned face, the odd sort of shuffling he does to get closer to you is unnerving.

Noticing you not retorting, he continues, "Ah, but where are my manners? I, am Father Tomas." It takes a couple of minutes, but he manages to get hand-distance away from you. You struggle to even spit at the man, the lights dominating your will. He takes your hand in his, and shakes it against your will. "So, what's your name?"


"Let's start on a side and move on from there. We can't let their flank be affective." Your mentor nods. "There was a reason why I saved you, even if I didn't realize it at the time."

"Which is...?"

"You're smart."

You'd blush if could, you like compliments, "No, the reason why you got me in the first place."

"You'll find out at some point."

You both laugh. Kelso drops information every once in a while, and at some point you want to just have several hours with him to discuss everything. Was the world always like this? What happened to it? What is my purpose? And on and on.

By now the collection of lights are nearing, so you stop chatting with your master and turn your attention to them. Keeping your head close to the ground and sneaking to the right, you prepare to overtake the group of five on that side. Your mind flashes back to your training in the training you did with Kelso in the dunes. You try your best to channel your anger while you run, Kelso behind, at the Zealots.

Why should I hate the Church? Your mind answers. Because they hate me for what I am. The man called Sebastian called me a 'demon'; I'm not that. I know I'm not that. But they will crucify me if they can. And I won't let them do that to myself or Kelso.

With your mind settled on some sort rage, you vent it with your sprinting, reaching the Zealots quick enough. They're big people, the C.E. Soldiers. Stygian black metal overlays their entire bodies, with an obvious group leader with a different helmet (with horns, like a medieval knight's would have.) The rest have a simplistic SWAT-team-like helmet with a visor. The most notable part of their ensemble is their heavily tusked rifles, which take up both of their arms, if only to carry the heavy block of metal. You assume that that's the thing that Kelso mentioned; the lightning bayonets. 'That, and their lit cross on the chest, flashing on and off. Thankfully, they don't seem to notice you, yet. Their heavy metal probably restricts them of that.

You pay little attention to where Kelso is, and you angrily lash out on the leader, leaping from over eight meters away from the ground. While in the air, you let your claws grow out and you come onto the huge black being's chest, and sink your claws into him, through the weak parts of his armor. Wet, sticky blood pours out, and you messily continue to clutch onto him while he tries to shoot you off with his tusked-bayonet. He manages to shoot up wards once or twice before slumping to the ground, the Other Zealots probably pissing their pants at this point. You roar at them, jumping off the corps of their leader and sending a heavy-fisted slash at a close one that is unbashfully trying to use hiw walkie-talkie. The hand you send clunks off of his helmet, but the heavy crunch you feel from it obviously means you broke his neck.

While you were busy with two, Kelso (still unseen) has done fine work with the remaining three, his body half-transformed into something... Animalistic. With hairy, muscular arms and sharp teeth he overpowers them easily, ripping heads off at insane speeds, to the point that you're convinced that you imagined part of it. After several lightning flashes from the last one, Kelso's new body soaks up the energy from it and grabs the Zealot, throwing him to the floor. Now, all that remains are you and your mentor. You hungrily sink your teeth into a nearby combatant, reinvigorating yourself. Kelso morphs back, seeming tired, and takes a helping from one of them. After only ten seconds, he grabs you to stop with him.

"That's one group down. There are three more groups to annihilate, two to the left (what used to be the middle) and the third which is standing back, way over to the left. I'll assume we're moving on to the middle?"
> You skip the middle and around to the other side.
"Divide and conquer, Mentor. Let's take out the smaller groups first."

With Kelso in tow, you make your way around to the other side. It takes longer, and you're certain the Zealots in the middle know you're there, but if you can finish off the five then the remaining ten are just more sheep coming to the slaughter.

Running, and dodging bolts of lightning from your right, you find the group from the left, dangerously close to the middle ones. In fact, it's almost like just a large group of fifteen, ready to fight you. But there is a gap, if you and Kelso can make it...

The green-lightning erupting from the rifles aren't very accurate, from what you've gathered, but when shot in large numbers you admittedly weren't surprised when one slammed into your armor. It stings, but the metal absorbs most of the impact. So much, in fact, that it begins to burn and boil your skin under it. You immediately throw it off, by then close enough to the group that you won't have to worry about dodging another shot from them. While they reload, you jump at them, kicking in mid-air and ruthlessly cutting through the weak spots in their armor, near the neckline. After killing one, the other spears your back, holding it up in the air while another charges at you with his bayonet, ready to pierce...

Thankfully, Kelso was fast enough to jump, twist and turn so that his feet gained momentum--  and slam his foot on the incoming soldier, sending him several meters away. Not a problem for now.

But the rest of the Zealots closing in are. Using your blind-fury, you manage to make a slight somersault while your back was tusked, releasing you from it's tearing grip and causing the soldier to flip over.

Even with these successes, you realize that it is no use. Lightning is shot into the back of your head, causing you to fall on the ground, your head burning but regenerating. You can't find Kelso during this, but you realize one thing; bad strategizing did this one in for you. Your flesh didn't heal itself when shot multiple times in quick succession.

You have died by the hands of the Church.


You lower your voice, "I... not sure. We're in some sort of house. Lots of sand."

No reply. You click it off.

Kelso nods in seeming approval. "It'll do. Let's just hope they underestimate one Creation and send only a couple soldiers. They are tasked to deal with the unknown. I got lucky with 'Sebastian'; the foolish Zealot wandered out alone."

---

Your mentor and youself make your way to a particularly large sand-dune near the house, watching for incoming Zealots from the city ahead.

It doesn't too long-- after several minutes you begin to notice flashing armors marching in the moonlight. Your house is a surprisingly straight line to the city, and you notice some lights, formed in clusters, moving straight in your direction. Others seem to be coming in on a flank, moving to the left and right of the city before circling in, near your location. None are too close though, which gives time for Kelso to count them all.

"Five groups of five in all, with the Church having only a slight notion where we are and us having the element of surprise."

"You think that's good odds? From what it seems, they likely no more about what we can do then what we know they can."

"Not we, you. I fought Zealots before the facility was destroyed, you know. Even if they've grown considerably, they're still the fear-mongering, symbolic fools as ever. With enough force their armor can be clawed through, only thing you have to worry about is silver and their lightning rifles."

"Sounds fun." You chuckles out nervously, "Silver bullets and lightning rifles?"

"Ah yes, silver is specifically harmful to us, for whatever reason. It is very pure... and the only thing that will stop us from regenerating, thankfully though, I don't think they've caught on to that just yet. The shock-troops they send in are equipped with monstrous bayonets that shoot out streams of electrons at high velocity, which are scarily painful..." He notices your frown, and smiles in return, "But it's healable. And I think we can do it."

You nod, "Not if their flanks succeeds. We need to either split up and fight the ones coming on the side or take the clusters on together."

"No question, we should fight together. Splitting up may make this go faster and more efficiently, but it's dangerous enough that it won't be worth it. Together, we can capture one of them as well as efficiently annihilate the groups one by one."

You nod back, assured. Kelso may retain information, but he's never lied to you. You think.

This brings your mind back to the incoming horde of Zealots,  which are less than a mile away by now, marching tirelessly, not exactly in your direction, but close enough...

"So, who do you think we should take on first?"
> You zealots in the middle.
You point forwards. "Let us obliterate the ten in front first, then move on to the sides. That is their main strike force, after all." Your mentor shrugs in turn.

"You're the boss, kid. Just make sure we both survive, alright?"

Grin. You crack your knuckles, hearing more nitrogen bubbles pop than you expected. Still, the implication that you're more than ready for battle is caught by Kelso, who laughs.

"Lead on, then."

As the lights on the side continue their march, you silently sneak around the dune, starting to walk towards the lights ahead. Slowly... then you break out to a run, then a sprint; you can hear Kelso on your side, like a shadow. You can't even see him, but he's there, following you. You approach the groups, them not noticing your pale body, regardless that you're wearing one of their own armors. Even from afar, you notice their elite-uniforms. Stygian black suits with flashy lining, and an  illuminating cross across their collective chests. Both of the groups have an obvious leader, with a horned helmet, reminiscent of the medieval ones knights used to wear. The rest just have simplistic, though futuristic, SWAT-team helmets with visors. The easily most intriguing thing is their tusked rifles, all huge and blocky. No doubt in your mind, those are the weapons you should watch out for most.

You continue your run, and you're very thankful they aren't the most perceptive bunch. Once your only 15 meters away, you hear a voice in your ear.

Make the first move

A nod. The moment one of them notices you moving forward, you leap at him, body-slamming him with all the momentum you've been buidling up. Even though you think they're higher-ranking than Sebastian was, your armor seems to be strong enough to send one of the flying with a clank, and falling on the ground with a thud. He twitches, but doesn't get up. By now, the nine surviving look at you. The leader eyes you from behind his helmet, "God has delivered you into our hands. All troops, move in!"

You here a crackle, no doubt from a walkie-talkie... Shit. Shit. Shit.

With a quick turn you swing your arm, desperate and angry. Your claws rip at his metal face, and it thankfully looks like you hurt him more than you hurt yourself. Your hand may sting and bleed from bashing metal, but the one leader staggers backward, as the rest aim their rifles at you. Suddenly, a cold wind passes, and blood squirts out from the leader's neck, his head suddenly missing. "Kelso!"

Shocked, the Zealots look around, and a storm of lightning shots are fired in many different directions. Eight of the Zealots are left, but... You pushed back as one of the shots hit you, the lightning burning your skin. You feel it growing back, but you're slowed. You jump at one of the closest ones, kicking at him with your ragged sneakers, and using that as leverage to leap at another one. After the push, you can feel him keel over with a gasp, but the other one stick his rifle right into you. You gasp, your mouth watering at the bloody sight. By now, the shadow that is Kelso has taken four or five of them, but even he was skewered by the other group-leader. More anger being built inside of you, you send a wicked, blood-felt punch at the Zealot who has you on the other side of his bayonet. The punch si probably the strongest one you've dealt, sending him and his rifle out of you. More blood squirts, and some even gets into your mouth (which feels good, gives you vigor). Kelso seems to disappear, no longer on the other C.E. Soldier's rifle, and in the confusion you forget that there are at least ten more Zealots coming in from all sides...

A tingling feeling is felt and you find yourself on the sandy floor, bloody and beaten. The Zealots take turns shooting at you, making sure the demon has been destroyed.

Your last thought is on why Kelso abandoned you...

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.