Blood, sweat, I'll break my bones

'Till all my scars are bleed golden,

My name's forever known!

(Bang, bangm won't stop 'til we're legends),

Woah-oh, Woah-oh,

Bang, bang, won't stop 'til we're legends!

The Score, Legend

25

His nose twitched.

His eyes remained locked on his goal. Lips dry; he licked his lips on habit, marveling for a second how the human brain worked so dully. Of course it would do such primitive actions when it doesn't even work. Nose twitched; he sniffed, hoping that it would deter the fly that had been buzzing there for the past few minutes. When that didn't work, he glanced around for any signs of life. The coast was clear: hand swatted at fly.

"I'm not sure if I understand exactly what is happenin'," John whispered besides the White Horseman. Beads of sweat had gathered across his wrinkled forward and he was squinting. Strife had made him remove his brilliant orange bandana a long time ago.

"You don't need too. Just stay quiet and don't move."

"Hell, kid, there ain't even anybody here. Ya said three hours 'go that there was someone that was walkin' 'round Jessica's property like they own the place and I have yet to actually see anybody. I don't think that ya know what the hell yore talkin' 'bout."

"When you're attempting to spy on someone, you tend not to speak as much as you are."

John shot him a look. With a dramatic eyeroll, John's shoulders tensed as he moved to stand. Instantly Strife jerked the old man back down, ignoring his slight grunt. The Nephilim failed to find any sympathy toward the old man. He wasn't used to this. Strife's human body wasn't either; when he had been a real Horseman, Strife could wait years in the same place, patiently waiting for his next victim to wander across his path. The Kingdom of Man could hardly attempt such feats. There were something could urges that he had yet to control; his stomach would roar from hungry occasionally.

"There ain't even anyone here!" Now John was pissed. It was sort of funny watching him angry. His beard was so thin that patches of his reddening skin was visible through the scraggly white. "I'm gettin' tired of this shit real quick, kid. We either leave here soon, or I'll give ya a damned reason to move yore ass."

Avoiding the temptation of throwing an insult, Strife simply glared ahead through the golden grass. There was a part of him that wished to join John as the old man stood, giving Strife such a mean look that the Horseman could almost physically feel it attempting to shove a dagger through the back of his head. But he knew that he was right. Strife had seen something earlier. Sure, it was a quick glimpse of something, but he knew what he saw. Maybe it was nothing, but he wanted to make sure.

They had been out herding the sheep. Goliath hadn't been too concerned with whatever it was; the black Newfoundland had continued working with the animals despite the lack of John and Strife. Strife, however, had forced John to stay. He wanted to make sure that he hadn't been the only one to see that. He just couldn't have.

You just don't see dragons on Earth anymore.

With the golden prairie, Strife had almost thought that he had imagined it. His only hint had been the strange way that the light had reflected off of the creature. But he knew that he wasn't imagining when it briefly caught his eyes, causing a chill to run up his spine. A wyvern. It was small compared to some that he had seen; it looked about the size of Jessica's prized bull. He hadn't caught most of the details. It was bent, typical of a wyvern, and blended rather nicely into the background. But he knew for a fact that it wasn't supposed to be there.

Dragons were supposed to be extinct on this planet. Angels weren't supposed to be able to interfere with the Kingdom of Man directly. Demons weren't supposed to horde across the planet's surface.

The Horsemen weren't supposed to be here until the real Apocalypse.

He let John leave for several reasons. If it truly was a dragon like Strife believed, then the old man would have absolutely no experience whatsoever in fighting such a beast. Not that Strife really did either. That was actually more of War's expertise. His little, bigger brother was able to withstand most of what a dragon could dish out -but those dragons were also three times the size of this creature. However, Strife knew how to fight them. Keep your eyes open, watch out for fire, and never, ever allow yourself to be surprised by a tail, especially with a wyvern. With their poisonous barbs, a human wouldn't last a minute before the poison consumed his entire being. That and then he didn't feel like listening to his complaining anymore anyways.

Finally, after several more minutes of just staring at nothing in silence, something moved. Excitement flashed through Strife and he propped himself up onto his aching elbows to get a better view.

The first thing that he saw was white hair. Not exactly what he was expecting but he was going to take it. At least he wasn't wrong. The next thing he saw almost blew his mind. A beautiful, young woman walked into his view. She couldn't have been older than twenty; her face had yet to mature into a full woman and her golden eyes had a childish tinge to them. There was pride in her step and she stood like she was important. Her hair, a pure, almost innocent white, swayed all the way to the back of her knees in length. She raised a hand; from her wrist to her feet her body was coated in dazzling red, gray, and yellow accented armor. At her waist hung a thin sword. Strapped across her shoulder was a lance, polished until it sparkled. What surprised Strife the most was the wings that jutted from her shoulder blades. They weren't angelic; while there was white feathers, the wings didn't produce the glow that was typical of an angel's wings. So she wasn't angel, but she processed the qualities of one. Her golden eyes, her white hair, her body stance.

It occurred to Strife the reason she had raised her hand when a man walked up beside her, congratulating her. He took the man in quickly, not finding him as interesting. Obviously this man was just human; blond hair pulled into a small ponytail, dressed like a traveler, hair only on his chin, lean, pistol. It looked as if the two were working together. More joined them soon after. A woman, large and muscular, patted the man on the shoulder, her head shaved clean from any hair. Another man appeared, also with long blond hair and a personality that Strife could feel even from where he was sitting.

Who are they?

Biting his lower lip in thought, Strife ducked back down into the grass, placing a hand on Redemption. His wounds were straining from the effect, but he knew that he didn't have the time to truly think about them. His main priority was the safety of the others. These people could be there to hurt everyone and Strife wasn't going to stand there and just let that happen. Not on his damn watch.

He needed to hear what they were saying. The four were conversing amongst themselves without a care in the world. This could be the time that Strife could use to get where he needed too. He slid down the hill that he had been using as cover and crouched down, silently moving across the landscape. He paused every now and then to peer at the group to make sure that they hadn't noticed him. His steps were silent, more than a mouse. A rush of nerves washed over him as he settled in a place that was closer. Their voices were comprehensible now.

"How far would you say that we're from Jessica's house, Cinder?"

"Two miles at best." Cinder, the girl with the wings, had a voice that was so beautiful that it almost had a ring to it. Angel. There was no way that there wasn't at least some heavenly blood in her. Could she be a fallen angel? It was possible with the downfall of Abaddon. "It shouldn't take the Guardian long to arrive. She said that the terrain wasn't difficult."

Guardian? Guardian. The title took a second to sink in. The nerves that he had felt before now shifted from his stomach to his throat to quicken his breathing. Which Guardian did they mean?

"That tigress should be here in less than three minutes. I call it. I've seen her eat up two miles in just seconds."

"You know what, Shel? No one asked you for your damned opinion. I could care less how many damned minutes that you think she can get her ass over here. I only care about this shitty sun. It's burning my ass."

"No one cares about your skin, dammit Silas," snarled Shel. She reached over, grasping the front of Silas's coat to yank him dangerously close to her face. She uttered something that caused the man to turn completely pale. When she released him, he stayed where he was, obviously uncomfortable. Shel smiled as she dusted over her hands and turned back to the other two in the group. "Now, since that's taken care of, do you think that the Guardian can tell us what we need to know? She told Cinder that she had heard things that weren't great for us."

The only person who hadn't been named yet nodded. Strife narrowed his eyes, attempting to memorize the face. It was clear that this was the leader of the group. Whenever something was said, the other's tended to look in his direction, as if expecting to be rewarded. "We just have to wait to hear what Sera has to say."

What.

Sera? They were talking to Sera? Why hadn't he been told about this? Why didn't Sera include him on this information? What the hell was going on here?

He was going to move again, to get into a better position to eavesdrop, when a roar echoed across the prairie. The group immediately turned around. "What was that?" Silas asked, nervously reaching toward his weapon.

"Aw, that's right. You haven't met Sera yet. Well," the leader said with a small chuckle. "You're in for a surprise."

It was at that point that the said Guardian burst over the horizon. A struggling demon was in her mouth, her body twisted as her tigress formed dodged the blade of another demon that was managing to keep up with her. With a crunch, the demon that she had in her jaws died. She released the body, allowing it to fall rather close to the group of humans, and whipped to face the demon when she landed, hissing and swiping at the demon that smiled at her. The two dove at each other seconds later.

The brief moment that the two creatures shared, mouths open and preparing themselves to attack, gave Strife enough time to realize that Sera wasn't being attacked by demons. In a way, they were similar. Definitely ugly enough. They were Orcs. Something, once again, that Earth hadn't seen in thousands of years; Strife could picture their lord back in the day, drool dripping from his massive underbite and the beady black eyes as they attempted to focus on him.

Black blood stained the golden grass as Sera got a hit on the beast, her claws dripping with the chunky liquid as she pulled away with a snarl. The Orc screeched in some sort of animalistic way that Strife did not understand. It fell to its feet, scrambling to gather its organs that had fallen free, and Sera reared before it, roaring. She slammed her weight down and the beast was no more. After a calming second, she shifted.

The Guardian turned to the group, her face smeared with blood. The side of her mouth twitched in greeting and she raised a blood-stained hand to wave at the disgruntled humans.

Now. Strife hadn't ever meet a lot of Orcs. They were more of Fury's expertise; she enjoyed being with stupid creatures so she could conduct her dumb studies. If his sister was here, she would probably be able to tell him a hundred different facts that Strife never would have guessed. Nor cared. But, out of all the things that he did not know, he knew for a fact that Orcs never, ever travelled alone unless there was something wrong with the beast. The only time that he had known Orcs to be alone was if one was sick. Most of their behaviors were still animalistic and dying Orcs wandered from their homes to die alone. So, the chance that Sera had been fighting an Orc that had been alone, sickly, and dying with an axe in its hand, was actually really, really low. But he hadn't been expecting for an entire squadron to crest the hill.

The White Horseman was moving before he realized it. He couldn't help it; when it came to Sera, he just had to protect her. At this point, he supposed that it didn't matter if he remained hidden. Humans -and himself in this case- were mortal and, unless he did something, there was enough in number to consume them. Popping up from his cover, he drew Mercy, placing a bullet through three of the Orc's heads in less than a second.

Sera completely ignored his arrival and shifted back into her tigress form to dive headfirst into the mass of orange, gray, and green bodies. The humans, however, were caught off guard. As he shot a few more Orcs before they surrounded the humans, he was able to catch their worried glances before Cinder took a step forward, clearly unfazed by the fact that a horde of Orcs were coming her way.

What happened next caused Strife's jaw to drop.

In a blast of pure white light, there was a loud, disturbing ripping noise that exploded. It caused the Orcs to stumble back a step -in the background, the audible sound of Sera shredding an unlucky Orc. The first thing visible was a black, scaly head rearing back. Strife immediately recognized the beast; it was the thing that he had saw three hours ago. Golden snake-like eyes locked onto the Orcs. A white mane whipped about along the wyvern's neck, so brilliant in color that it almost hurt to look at it. Its tail wrapped protectively about the three humans behind it, a growl rumbling through the beast in warning as it glared down at the Orcs. They blatantly ignored it. Yelling, the Orcs charged the wyvern, waving their weapons. Slamming down its wings, the wyvern threw down its head and blasted the Orcs in stunning white flames. At first Strife thought that it was ice, but he saw that he was wrong as the Orcs stumbled away, grabbing at their melting skin.

An Orc appeared besides stupefied Strife, poking at him with a spear. He jumped back once he remembered where he was. As the Orc followed him, he spun to the side, slinging out a right hook that knocked the Orc right off its feet and caused it to released its own weapon. Strife snatched it from the air, twirling it once before shoving it into the beast's chest. It cried out in pain, but he left it there to die as another approached. This one he simply used Mercy. He was about ready to let another Orc have it when the wyvern leapt onto it, wrapping the creature away from view with its wings. The White Horseman turned away in disgust to find an angry, blood-stained Sera fuming inches away from him.

He jumped back in surprise, but was yanked back when she grabbed the front of his shirt, successfully snapping the button closest to his neck. "What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me, Horseman?" she snarled, lavender eyes dancing in warning.

"Actually, no. I was passing through the area and saw a good fight-"

"Spit it out, dickhead! Tell me the truth! I don't want to listen to your damned stories!" A prickling sensation grew across the base of his throat. She leaned in closer yet, lifting her lips enough to reveal her lengthening canines. "Or don't. I truly wouldn't mind piercing your throat with my claws."

Before the White Horseman could defend himself, the leader of the humans was grabbing her, attempting to separate her from Strife. It wasn't working. The sound of ripping cloth finally convinced the man to stop and Sera responded by grabbing Strife with both hands now, setting her feet, and effortlessly lifting him several inches from the ground. Strife gurgled. He had seen Sera pissed before, but he didn't know if he had ever seen a pissed off Sera this much before.

"You're going to choke me," he gurgled.

"I'm okay with that at the moment."

"Wait. You said that this man is a Horseman?" The man returned, this time by placing a hand on Sera's shoulder, who shrugged it off with a growl. His green eyes were lit with interest as he focused on Strife. It's like he can't even tell that a pissed off woman is about to rip out my throat. "Which Horseman are you?"

Strife gestured at his throat.

The Guardian snarled at him. "Pathetic." Several things felt like gravity was also dragging them down as she released him with a huff: his pride, his manhood.

As Strife huffed on the ground, pulling at his sore throat, the man knelt down in front of him, staring. His green eyes were unsettling Strife; after a second, his fingers found Redemption, whom he had dropped when he couldn't find the strength to hold onto the weapon. The White Horseman eventually glanced up, panting. "What the hell are you looking at? See something you like?"

"You are the White Horseman. Strife. Fury's twin brother. You've hunted both demon and angel alike. You've seen to the destruction of the Nephilim with your siblings and of the Sri Moi alone. By all standards of the Charred Council, you are their greatest and most valuable bounty hunter, even better than Death himself."

Without warning, Strife's hand darted out, gripping the man's throat. "How do you know that? What else do you know?"

The man's green eyes narrowed. A headache burst behind Strife's eyes and he cringed, attempting to glare back at the human. It wasn't until he felt something moving in his head that he realized what was happening. This human, this son of Adam, this member of the Kingdom of Man, was a telepathic. Now that was just strange. Had there ever been a telepathic in Man's history? At the moment, he couldn't care and nor did he feel like drawing the energy to do so. This man knew who he was because he had read his mind. How screwed up was that?

Movement on Strife's right side triggered him. With a soft bark, Strife threw his head forward, headbutting the man. Instantly the headache that the Horseman had disappeared like a blown out candle as the man jerked back in surprise. Hands grabbed the back of Strife's shirt and he was yanked to the side, slammed onto the ground with a knee in the middle of his spine.

"Who's fat ass is on me?" he roared, attempting to reach Redemption. His fingers brushed the barrel before Silas kicked it away, making the Horseman grunt in frustration.

"My fat ass is on you." Shel's fingers wrapped through the longer of his hair; pain shot through his scalp as she forced him up onto his elbows, her knee pressing the rest of his body further into the ground. "Hurt Andrew again and you'll be feeling worse than that, shithead."

"Shel. You can stop hurting him now."

"Why?"

Strife's gaze darted to Andrew, who was just now beginning to actually stand, one hand pressed into an already enlarging purpling bruise. He shot a look at Strife, probably wishing that he had never crossed paths with the White Horseman. "Because his sister would absolutely murder us if we even left a scratch on him. If that doesn't give you motivation, then the fact that he's probably one of the few people who can save us will."

The pain in his scalp just increased and he squeezed his eyes shut to prevent himself from screaming. "I think that I'm going to take my damn chances."

"Let him go. I'm the only one allowed to hurt him."

Shel shoved Strife down into the ground once more before she finally released him. He gasped; when had he stopped breathing? He glanced up just in time to watch Sera flick a knife back into its scabbard on her belt that she quickly hid back underneath her purple sweater. When did she get those damned things? Shel was glaring at her as she walked off a distance away, standing besides Silas.

This led his gaze to the wyvern that was still there. Black scales glistened in the sunlight as it breathed, a slim black tongue slithering out occasionally. Blood, already dried from the heat of its scales, stained its jaws and speckled across its white mane. After sensing that danger was gone, the beast lowered its head, another bright beam of light flashing. Seconds later, Cinder stood where the wyvern had, stretching out her white wings a little. Amazing.

"Stop staring at the girl." Sera snapped.

His head snapped in her direction, momentary shock being replaced by a quick smirk. "Why? You jealous sweetheart? Besides, where are the introductions?"

She flicked him off. Sensing the other's discomfort, the Guardian growled at him again motioning with a flick of her fingers to stand. "Everyone, this jackass is Strife, the White Horseman, if you didn't know already. Andrew is the leader of a group of survivors from the Apocalypse years ago. Shel is one of his generals. Silas is a member of that group. And Cinder is... Cinder." Her sharp eyes darted to Andrew before Strife could ask about the last introduction. Red marks were still obvious on his neck. "You wanted answers. This Horseman is the only available one at the moment, otherwise I would have brought one that is actually worth something." Strife grunted in disagreement. "However, he had a firsthand experience of the ash."

"You've traveled across this entire damned planet with that other Guardian person," remarked Silas. "Haven't you seen this shit somewhere else? We can't be the ones with this hellborn maggot."

"I like that. 'Hellborn maggot.'"

"Shut up, stupid. I haven't interacted with the shit. I was smart enough not to mess with it."

"In my defense, none of us knew that it was going to be as powerful as what it was. Both Death and Fury were there when I was. And they're 'actually worth something' from what I've been told," Strife added sarcastically, shooting a glare at Sera, who lifted bared her fangs at him.

Andrew lifted a hand. "The argument between the two of you is invalid at the moment. The more information that I can gain about the ash, the better I know how to respond."

"What are you planning on doing?"

"If I can, I would like to eradicate it from Earth."

He laughed. Strife burst out into a harsh, violent laugh that surprised the humans. Cinder and Sera, both of whom he was guessing had already seen the ash, hardly moved. "That's a stupid idea. All you're going to do is get everyone killed. Look, I'm a damned Horseman. I was with the others when our immortality was stripped from us and the ash made us become one of the Kingdom of Man. If the Horseman couldn't defeat the ash, then there's no way that a group of Man could."

"We're not just human, though," Andrew responded instantly. "The best way to describe us is misfits. I have aliens, half-breds, werewolves, and almost everything else under my command."

"How is that possible? Earth hasn't had half of those for thousands of years now." He looked at Sera. "Explain."

It wasn't her who spoke. Cinder took a step forward. For a breath second, Strife was absolutely stunned. It had to be those angelic features; everything about the girl was almost so perfect that it was intimidating. The brilliant white hair, the perfectly shaped ruby red lips, the eyes that were so golden that they almost glistened like the actual mineral, the crafted face of perfection, the slim features. Never before had an angel actually had him look twice. He preferred his women a little less... angelic. It had to be because he was a human. They were so easily influenced.

"What?" He hadn't realized that she had been talking at all. "Wait, can you answer a question for me real quick?"

Cinder's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing. "Ask away, Horseman."

"How old are you?"

".... Eighteen?"

Strife whooped. "She's legal!"

Someone grabbed his left ear, jerking him down and causing pain to shoot through the fragile appendage. As he whimpered, he heard Sera growl ridiculously loud. "Do anything like that again and I'll rip something off that I'm sure you not survive without as a human."

"My heart?"

"Think lower, Horseman." She threw him down into the dirt once again, forcing him to sit up straight a few minutes later. He couldn't tell what the humans' thoughts were on the situation; all he could think that he must have appeared to be a dominated male. "Now listen up. Earth's timeline flipped-flop after the Apocalypse. There's dinosaurs, there's Orcs, there's witches. Everything that used to walk on this planet is once again. The barriers that kept Heaven and Hell from stepping foot on Earth have opened. Aliens have started taking pit stops and deciding not to leave. Earth is not just harboring the Kingdom of Man any longer."

"What the hell?" Strife twisted to try and escape the hold that Sera had on his collar. "How is that possible? Shouldn't you Guardians be protecting Earth?"

"There's only two of us."

"Besides, it's almost impossible now. So much has happened in the last few generations." Andrew gestured to himself. "My family is full of magic. My mother, Mama, is a witch and my father was a warlock. Cinder's father, Darluke, is the King of Dragons on this planet while her mother was an angel. Werewolves and vampires are almost impossible to find without killing half of the populations. Our cultures are connected now with half of the galaxies. It would be impossible to get rid of them without destroying half of Earth's population."

"Why weren't the Charred Council aware of this? This was not supposed to happen to Earth," Strife whispered.

Sera shook her head as she finally released him. "You don't understand." She brushed some of her hair from her eyes, crossing her arms. "The Council haven't been the same after the End War. It's no surprise that they disappeared."

"Hey. They didn't disappear."

"Then what the hell do you want to call it? Abbygail and I lost connection with them the moment that you Horsemen did too."

"My point is," Andrew spoke up again. "That we can handle ourselves. Humanity is not as weak as you remember, Strife."

The White Horseman shot him a glare. "You don't know me. Do not refer to me by my name. To you, I am Horseman."

Andrew's mouth twitched and Shel mumbled something underneath her breath. Silas had lost focus on the conversation a while ago now; he had wandered off, balancing one of his dual wield swords on a fingertip. "I believe that I can call you whatever I wish too. Your sister does not mind me referring to her as Fury."

"You know what my sister is?" He saw white. Instead of feeling relief that someone had at least spotted Fury, he felt a sharp spike of fear shoot through him. He didn't trust Andrew and he was telepathic. It was possible that Andrew could have done countless of things; these thoughts were racing through his head when he moved aggressively once again, this time drawing Redemption in a blink of an eye. "Tell me where she is, you son of a bitch." When Andrew failed to respond, waving off the others when they moved to help, Strife pulled down the hammer of the pistol until it clicked. "Don't think that I'm scared to pull this damn trigger. I've killed hundreds of things with this one pistol."

Again, the headache that Strife felt earlier burst through his head. He closed his eyes to try and keep the pain from spreading. "I know what you've done. I can see the fear, the anger, the love of every single person that you've killed. What monster kills their own mate and their child?"

Ignoring the pain, Strife darted forward, grabbing Andrew's collar forcefully, showing Redemption into the man's chest. "You bastard! You dare go through my memories to find Turbulence!" Fire burned through the Horseman. He pulled Andrew close, his fingers digging into the man's skin. "Get the fuck out of my head."

"You know what the good thing about being telepathic is, Horseman?" Andrew gave him a smile despite everything. "I can see every movement that you've ever made."

"What-"

Strife suddenly had no control over his entire body. Every mental instant that he had screamed as he pulled Redemption back, motions as clear and precise as if he was the one actually doing them. His eyes couldn't move; his gaze stared straight ahead at Andrew. Fire flared through his limbs with a passion. The barrel was cold against his forehead as his own hand pressed it smoothly against his skin. It was strange. Mercy would have been the pistol that normally would have been there, waiting for one second to test the chances of immortality once again, but this time it was Redemption without his own will.

The man took a step back, smiling. "See, Horseman? You aren't as powerful as you think you are." Redemption lowered itself until it aligned with his eyes.

"Andrew." Sera's voice was suddenly soft. It was calming against his racing nerves, giving him some control over his body by knowing that he could still hear. "Stop it. You've proved your point."

Like a snap of fingers, the lack of control that Strife felt disappeared. He ripped Redemption away from himself and focused it once more on the human. "You bastard." Andrew simply flashed him another shit-eating smile.

"It doesn't matter what you think of each other. You're eventually going to be working together to destroy the ash."

"The hell I am!" Strife exclaimed as he turned to Sera. "I refuse to work with this mind-reading son of a bitch. That shouldn't be possible. You're not a tad bit freaked out that he can control your damned mind?" Andrew's arm moved toward the pistol that he owned as well. "Son of a bitch! Stay still or I'll shot you!"

"We have bigger problems! He can only do it every few days because it drains his strength!"

"Oh? So you can't do anything now? You little shit-"

"Strife!" Sera's strained voice stopped him and he froze in his tracks to glance back at a disgruntled Guardian who looked more stressed than what he had ever seen. "Just stop fighting! All of you! This meeting was arranged so we could discuss ways to defeat the ash, not point guns at each other and examine who has the biggest!" She turned to Shel, Cinder, and Silas, who had recently joined them again to watch the action. "When does the Sanctuary open up again?"

Silas looked surprise. "The Sanctuary? I don't know anything about that."

Sera's eyes flashed lavender and she took a threatening step toward the man. "You and Zakee are the only ones who know the whereabouts of the place. You've been inside and interacted with Mae and Lucy. It opens once every year. When does it open?"

"Who's Mae and Lucy?" Strife asked as Silas bowed his head, ashamed. "What's the Sanctuary?"

"Your completely useless to this conversation. Shut up." Sera rounded upon Silas again. "When does it open? I won't ask you again."

"In a month! Every October it opens the day before Halloween!"

Sera nodded before looking at Andrew. The man nodded as he made a motion in the air, causing the others to begin moving. Strife watched as they left, ignoring how Shel gave him a death glare. "That gives me fifty-five days to get more than three hundred people, not including anyone that we might pick up, almost thousand miles away. Better start getting the preparations ready."

As they began to leave, Strife turned to Sera. "Explain to me what the hell is going on."

The Guardian was already walking away and Strife moved to catch up to her. She talked once he was there. "The Sanctuary is the only place on Earth that is protected from the outside evils around it. Think of it as the Garden of Eve, but in Kansas. It's a large area of protected, fertile land that houses at least two of every creature on this planet, including vampires, centaurs, dinosaurs. Every year, the Sanctuary 'opens' to allow inhabitants to enter and leave. A village of humans took it upon themselves to watch over it many years ago. Confusion happened and, a few years ago, some of the survivors of the village, Mae and Lucy, were trapped inside. However, if we can get at least Andrew's group to it, then everyone should be okay from the threat of the ash."

"How does anyone know where it is? That doesn't make any sense."

"Mae and Lucy had connections with the outside world before it happened."

"So we're traveling all the way to Kansas? I don't even know where we are now."

"Virginia. We have a very, very long way to go, Horseman."