(A/N: Remember.. 1- This is based on a game. 2- Fanatics are not restricted to just one thing. 3- Religious zealots are not restricted to just one religion. They happen in ALL religions. Other than that... enjoy)

09

"Road of the Gypsy"

EW24+

By the time he had left the settlement, Strife had not only been unable to convinced the locals that Grief was 'just a horse' and not some avatar, messenger, mount or anything else to do with the gods of their religious belief, but somehow managed to convince them with his denial that he was also some servant of the gods sent to assist their chosen. Their departure caused something of a small riot from the diehard fanatics, who against the advice, orders and even threats of punishment from the ruling body, followed.

Mikeal, who was having too good of a time with all that was going on, asked for and received permission from Commander Adakar to accompany the Horseman. It was understood that should he get into any trouble, there would be no assistance forthcoming from the Twilight Brigade and that when he was ready to return, there would be a place for him. He wasn't the only one either as several other members had made the same request he had, but for different reasons.

As for Denea, well it turns out that she was already a member of the world's united military and part of the regiment that was overseeing the Battleborn program in this region of the world. It was their job to see to the security of the program's staff and participants as well as make sure they made it to the breeding facility to the west. The distance was over two thousand six hundred miles away as the crow (or angel) flies, but the planned route would be closer to three thousand miles. Presuming they did not run into any major problems along the way.

The day before departure…..

Strife stared at the fanatical humans chosen form of transportation with curiosity, skepticism, and a hefty amount of amusement. He wasn't mechanically inclined to begin with, beyond what was required as a gunsmith that is. But the contraption before him made him itch to figure out just what kept it together, what it ran on and how it worked. If it would even work that is and if it did, how far would it make it before breaking down (or being destroyed). Shaking his head, he turned away catching the looks on the faces of the passing soldiers. He had to agree though, the contraption was painted white, with yellow designs all over it. A bit bright and noticeable when compared to all the transportation used by the soldiers.

"So… anyone want to take bets on how far they make it?" Strife asked in perfect trade tongue of the kingdom of man (what humans referred to as 'english'). He used most of his bounty rewards to hire people to teach him both the local and the most commonly used languages of earth. "Or what will get them first?"

"They do understand that when we're attacked, we won't be defending them. Civilians or not, we don't have the resources. It was for this very reason they were told not to come," Denea pointed out.

Mikeal joined the pair, on his way to the officer in charge of logistics. Like the Horseman, he was carrying a single duffel bag containing all his possessions here on Earth. "I still say my idea is a good one."

The human woman rolled her eyes. "We can't use them as fodder when we're attacked. And we can't use them as bait either, so don't even start on that idea," she said as she crossed her arms, watching those under her command as they finished breaking down a tent. Even though leaving behind items like the tent made sense, seeing how limited space was and how far they had to travel, resources like equipment were drying up so none could be left behind anymore.

Tilting his head to the side in thought then scratching his chin, Strife considered the situation. "Well… I could always hint… rather broadly… that their gods would be pleased…. Should we be attacked that is," he said making a sweeping gesture with his free hand. "After all whoever attacks the caravan obviously doesn't want us to get where we're going."

Denea just let out a soft groan as she palmed her face. "Just be here when we leave or you're getting left behind," she said as she walked away to deal with a problem.

"Don't think she realizes we can easily catch up or even pass them," Strife commented.

"Nope, don't think humans in general realize how fast and far we can travel," Mikeal agreed. He held out a hand, motioning for Strife's bag. "I'll see it gets put away properly."

"Stow."

"Huh?"

"The proper term is 'stow'," Strife said. "You've been in one militaristic order or another for a long time, you should know the proper terms." There was nothing of importance in his bag since he was wearing his armor and guns so he handed it over without concern. As he did, his eyes cut down to the winged male's waist where his scarf was being used as a sash. "It had better be clean when I get it back tomorrow."

Two days post departure….

The pair were standing on top of one of the vehicles, looking back the way they had come. In the distance, they could see the fanatics transport (what humans call a 'bus') moving forward. Even if it was being pushed instead of moving on its own power, it was still moving forward.

"By the Creator," Mikeal swore softly in disbelief. "They are still following. Any sane creature would have given up by now."

"Fanatics are rarely sane my friend," Strife pointed out.

"I know, but… why?.. How?!"

Strife shook his head. "This is the very reason why an enforced ceasefire was imposed by the Charred Council when the Kingdom of Man came into being. Mankind was too young, too easily influenced into tipping the Balance either way." He crossed his arms, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "They are still too young to even be in this mess." He reached up and ran a hand through his hair. "If the idiot had just waited a little longer or checked with the rest of us…." he added in a mutter.

"Who's too young, what mess and if who had waited?" Denea asked as she climbed over the edge of the vehicle's roof to join the two males. She was the lucky person to get stuck with the job of babysitting the 'non-humans' that had joined the convoy.

"Humans and the End War," Strife replied.

The woman just grunted, "I think we've come a long way from stone axes and animal skins." She pulled an object out of a hip pouch and brought it up to her face. "Well damn, I was hoping they'd have given up by now." Lowering the object she frowned, then raised it and took another look. "By the way, there's some pretty heated debate going on. Which is correct? The Christian Bible's description of the origins of Man or the scientists version?"

"I'm not getting into this one," Mikeal quickly stated then took to the sky to scout.

"Coward!" Both human and Horseman yelled at the Fallen's retreating backside.

Sitting down, Strife let his legs dangle over the edge of the vehicle's roof. "Sit," he said, indicating the spot next to him. "Explain to me the difference." He held out his hand, making a 'give me/hand it over' motion with his fingers and grinned.

Denea just rolled her eyes and settled herself down next to the non-human with a sigh as she handed over the binoculars. She'd learned that he would keep pestering till he got what he wanted. "Don't quote me on this. It's been a very long time since I've picked up a Bible much less read through it, but it goes something like this… The Christian Bible says something along the lines of 'man was created in the image of god' then given Eden as a place to live. Woman was created from the rib of man, succumb to the temptation of the devil and took a fruit from the tree of knowledge which is what caused mankind to be kicked out of Eden." She watched as Strife turned the binoculars this way and that before bringing them up to his face like she had. She reached over and tapped the end that was facing away. "You look through this end," she said. "As for the scientists, well they say humans evolved from primates. Nature's trial and error method of seeing what will or won't survive."

The Horseman hummed as he flipped the binoculars over as instructed, quickly figuring out how to adjust them. His already phenomenal eyesight was able to pick out even more detail at a greater distance with the device. He'd have to see about getting a pair of his own soon. "Well…." he started after some thought, "They're both right.. Sorta…"

"How so?"

"The Kingdoms of Heaven and Hell, while being the oldest ones in existence, may or may not have been the first beings ever created. They'll both argue in their favor. There's a lot of Old ones that can or could trace their existence back even farther, but most have either died out or been wiped out." He handed the binoculars back to the human then brought up one knee and crossed his arms over it. "If you notice, all the beings you've seen, have the same common body type. Arms, legs, head, center mass. What you call…" he gestured with a hand then snapped his fingers several times as he dug around for the right word.

"Humanoid?" Denea asked.

"Right, that," Strife said. "So the whole 'created in the image of' is accurate. So there's a few extra parts here and there, basically all the same. As far as the 'rib of man' goes," he shrugs. "Couldn't say. All races have their Firstborn. Once enough Firstborn are created, propagation starts on its own." He took a few moments to eye the human woman up and down then leered suggestively. "I can show you how it's done. Real thorough like if you want."

The human just snorted then leaned over and patted the Horseman on the cheek. "Nice try kiddo but I'm too old for you and you couldn't handle me even if you were old enough." Denea had found the best way to deal with Strife was to give as good as she got.

Strife burst out laughing. He really liked this human. It was a shame that as a race, they were so short lived when compared to the other beings. "I still intend to get you in my bed one day," he grinned.

"So Man did show up fully formed and all that like the bible claims," Denea replied.

"No, no…. Not completely."

"Ok.. explain that one then."

The Horseman's mood became somber and a little sour. "This is where Eden comes in. It's real.. Or was. It was created to become the Kingdom of Man. A place to learn and grow and mature as a race. To become the third kingdom to balance out Heaven and Hell," He said. "To be kicked out would mean you'd have to have been there to start. Man never set foot into Eden. It was destroyed before that could happen…. An entire race was slaughtered because of Eden, when they tried to take it for themselves...Out of spite, petty jealousy, envy.. No one knows why. Only that they made the attempt."

"You were there." It was a statement, not a question.

Strife looked away and nodded. He felt no guilt or remorse then and nothing had changed over time.

"So humans didn't originate from there. But they didn't evolve either like scientists claim?"

Strife shrugged again. "Best guess, a newly formed realm was found and Man was put there.. Here.. started mingling with the locals. One thing lead to another and well.. Here you are."

Humming in thought, Denea slowly nodded. "Interesting to know." She leaned towards the Horseman again, knocking her shoulder into his arm. "Hey. Don't sell yourself short. You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for I bet."

"I won't tell if you don't. Deal?"

"Deal."

Day eight since leaving the settlement….

Pools of blood, bodies and shell casings littered the ground around him but he paid them little heed as he sighted then pulled the trigger. His target's head exploded in a gory mist of bone, blood and brains. Two more times he repeated the actions before slowly lowering the high powered rifle. Glancing down at the soldier propped against the caved in side of the transport, Strife knew there was nothing to be done for him. After slinging the rifle across his back, he knelt down then took the man's head in his hands and nodded. A quick twist wrenched the human's head around, rupturing his vertebral arteries and severing the spinal cord. Death was instant. An end much preferable than the lingering one the soldier's wounds promised.

The Horseman trailed one hand down to the tags about the human's neck and yanked, snapping the chain holding the tags. They would be added to the collection he had accumulated and turned over to the human in charge of the convoy. Standing, he looked around, making sure he had missed nothing, before gathering what little there was left in both transportable and usable conditions.

Grief stood still as the loaded bags were fastened to her saddle. She made no complaint about it this time, instead she swung her head around and nuzzled her rider's head, ruffling his hair with her breath.

"Thanks," Strife muttered as he rubbed Grief's forehead in return before climbing into the saddle. "Let's go," he said. Like with his siblings, he rarely needed to do anything to get his steed to start moving. He took out another dozen or more scavenging humans along the way to the stationary convoy. Upon his arrival, several soldiers approached but waited till he dismounted and removed the bags to take them. He fished a small pouch out of one of the bags before handing it over.

"Your presence is requested at the lead transport," one of the soldiers said as they accepted the bags.

Strife nodded in reply to the soldier as he patted Grief's neck. "I'll need you for the rest of the trip," he told her. The steed bobbed her head up and down then wuffled his hair before walking off to await his return. When he arrived at the lead transport, the remaining ranking officers were in the middle of a meeting. It took a few moments before silence descended and all eyes were on him. "You asked for me?"

The ranking officer cleared his throat and glanced around at the others before speaking. "Yes… Would you please give us a report on the situation?"

Strife looked around at the men and women gathered. "No survivors. Hostiles removed with extreme prejudice. I was able to retrieve a few bags of supplies, mostly healing supplies and ammo." He held out the small pouch for the nearest officer to take.

"What about…."

"No survivors."

"I see…." the officer said, shoulders slumping.

"What's our standing orders sir?" asked one of the junior ranking officers, a young looking male with a determined expression.

"We continue on. Communications was able to boost their signal allowing contact with the Shanghai base. They are aware of the situation here and will try to clear some of the way for us, but made no promises," the officer said. "Battleborn staff and breeders safety," his expression soured at that term but he continued on, "are to take top priority. As of now, any human we come across is to be considered hostile and eliminated. When we move out, marksmen are to be position on the transport roofs. It doesn't matter if it's an old man or woman, or a child, they are to be killed on sight."

There was some unhappy rumblings from the group about that order, but civilians were the cause of the situation in the first place. What had been thought to be a friendly, if small settlement turned out to be hostiles under the thrall of a lesser demon lord. They had lost almost a quarter of their entire regiment in less than a day.

"I'd like you and our allies to perform scouting duties for us."

Strife crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't speak for the Fallen," he pointed out. "But I'll pass the request to Mikeal. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to deal with anything we run into. How is Denea?"

Word had already spread about the viciousness in which the winged male had taken out the hostiles after his friend had sustained grievous injuries while helping defend the convoy.

A second officer spoke up. "The Sergeant will recover though she'll either be transferred or discharged. Once, missing limbs meant automatic medical discharges, but not anymore. We need all the able-bodied men and women we can get."

"Good. If you don't need me anymore, I'll go speak with Mikeal about your request," Strife said as he uncrossed his arms and turned to go.

"Thank you…." the officer started to say, but trailed off unsure of the non-human's name. He'd heard the male be called 'Gunner', 'Stride', and quite a few other names.

"Gunther Stride," Strife said, purposely using one of the many mispronunciations of his name. And with that, he was gone from the meeting.