text: [Themes: sci-fi, romance, war, science fiction, post-apocalyptic]
  
  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?"
  
  > 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.