A/N: Short, but I hope it's sweet.
Cross Woods-
In hearts of all worlds, there is a link to each. In some it is powerful and manifested as a tree. In most, though, there is no sign, but it's power is still strong. This connection is a Root. These Roots all run back to the worlds tree, Yggdrasill. To the Cross Woods. A realm that connects all. The Cross Woods is scattered with trees resembling the likeness of the world it represents. Strife rides in these woods, his mind, wandering on the destruction of Demon and Angel alike, brings him to a grove of massive oaks.
As Strife rides, a shadow passes from tree to tree. Watching his every movement. Treating him as prey, for it is a predator.
"I believe something wants to play, Agony." Strife says as he watches the shadow and pulls out Mercy. "Let's give it a party favor then." Strife then shot at the shadow, but it moved around the bullet and stuck out. A shadowed hand slashed at Agony. The horse wailed and dissapeared. Strife fell and slid against the ground, but quickly got his footing.
"Useless horse." Strife mumbled as he pulled out Redemption. The shadow came before him and morphed into the image of humanoid. "What are you?" He asked as he cocked his guns.
"We are a force that has wanted you for a long time, Horseman." The shadow said in a great distortion.
"Many have said these words. None have been able to say them again." Strife said and began to fire. The shadow hissed and held it's hands up. Then, smaller shaodws appeared. Their forms condensed into that of small black knights. Their eyes were black and they held bastard swords. They all hissed at Strife.
"I like cowards." Strife said as he put his guns away. "They fear my kills the most." Then, he grabbed a pole arm from mid-air. It was green and had black skulls at the ends. He spinned it in his hands with the skill of a martial artist. He then stamped it into the ground. "Conquest craves it. Destruction" He kicked the lower end up and swung it around to bash one of the shadows head of it's shoulders.
Strife twriled it again and thrust it into the abdomen of shadow behind him. Strife flipped in the air and landed behind the creature. He swung the Conquest into it's back and sent him flying into a tree.
Soon though the shadows were surrounding him.
"Who knew I had some many fans." Strife said mockingly. He then held his staff out. Then, it separated into three segments and held together by a spiked chain. His staff was really a sansetsukon.
Strife held the center segment and began to spint he others segments quickly. With ease, Strife flailed out the chained segments in an uproar of green aura. All of the shadows were casted away. Strife then reattached the staff and looked to the main shadow. It raised it's hand and pointed at Strife.
"You are over-due, Strife. You and the rest of your Nephilim brothers. Join us now!" The shadow hissed. Strife cracked his neck and replied,
"I'm good. Last group I joined didn't work out. Had to listen to a total douche the entire time. Take my sister, though. Too agreeable." The shadow hissed again.
"Silence your tongue, filth!" The shadow dashed at Strife. Strife ran at the shadow, while spinning Conquest.
Before they could clash, a light erupted from the ground. The shadow cried out in pain and escaped deep into the Cross Woods. But, Strife was caught. The roots below writhed and opened thr ground beneath him. In a flash the light came and in a flash it was gone. Taking Strife along with it.
A soul...The Nephilim have long questioned if they have one. Must it be begotten by the Creator or is it merely present. More than any, Strife gave it his greatest thoughts. Why? Perhaps proof that he exsisted? That he was more than an unsanctioned union?
But, more he wondered what a soul was. In the end, he could only concieve one idea. That it was something to desire.
Unknown:
Strife groaned on the dry ground beneath him. Then, he slowly opened his eyes. For a moment he was in a daze, then he noticed the massive face in front of him. Strife quickly jumped back and pulled out his revolvers.
"Who are you!? And, where am I!?" Strife demanded as he cocked Mercy and Redemption. The massive man, covered in golden plate armor, curly short brown hair and golden eyes, waved his hand at Strife.
"Ease, White Rider." He said in a deep and elder voice. "I am Hyperion. As to where you are, you stand in the remants of the precursor realm. The Eldest Plain, Land of the Titans, the Placers of Worlds."
A/N: I know it was short, I just didn't want you guys to wait for two Darksiders stories. Hah. So, the narrator, Imagine Hyperion's voice. Also, if you can guess who the shadow is, I'll tell you what world ideas I have. And, Happy Valentines Day. Named after St. Valentinos, who would sorely disappointed in this holiday.