"Seven hours. Seven long hours.

That's how long the meteor fall lasted. That's how long it took for the last angel and demon to spill out from the Gates of their respective kingdoms and fall to Earth, turning it into a battlefield fit for the ages. That's what the End War was though, wasn't it? The War to end all wars, one with man, demon and angels at its forefront.

And for what, the honor of an absent Creator?

Because the charred council demands it in the name of balance?

None could find the answer; as when the first hour of contact was made no battle rights were declared. War needed no such sporting obligations. The Hellguard and the Dregs of Hell clashed in streets to continue their blood-feud following an armistice, with Man caught in the middle, dying in the streets and gutters like sewer rats. As integral they were meant to be they played an of so little part in the End War. With both Heaven and Hell quickly coming to believe their extinction was all but inevitable.

But if that was the case… we wouldn't have much of a story now, would we?"

Vivienne sighed in relief as she settled into a tub, letting the warm water wash over her skin. "Oh man this… this is so much better." The feral eyed young lady muttered as she raised a leg and smiled. "Nothing beats a nice soak in the tub after a full days work of slaying demons." She smiled as she grabbed some soap and started her wash. "So glad the water didn't go when the apocalypse started." She stated before sighing. "Better enjoy it while I can. Mean, sooner or later its gonna go off." Vivienne muttered as she took a minute to massage a sore muscle. "Hey, Noah! You wanna hop in here after I'm done?" No response. "Noah? Noah~"

"What?"

Her brother's voice echoed out in her brain. She would admit, twin-telepathy wasn't complete bullshit.

"I'm in the bath, you wanna hop in after I get out?"

"Uh sure. Thanks."

"What are you doing out there?"

In the living room Noah just took a breath as he looked over his gear.

There were his wrist-blade that were starting to rust from lack of cleaning, and as his grapple hook was going to need some maintenance so as to not jam up on him.

There were his throwing knives, chakram and caltraps, small things he had to retrieve after each and every use so as to not run out.

There were his twin handguns, which were nearly out of bullets.

There was his assortment of bombs and throwable traps like the deployable net, which were sadly running low as of right now.

Lastly there was his trusted twinblade, both scarred and chipped from lack of proper maintenance.

Give the Hunter's Order, they certainly kept up a versatile set of equipment on their personnel. Running a hand through his hair Noah took another breath as he reached into his bag and pulled out a whetstone. He started on his twinblades, trying to at least sharpen the dulling edges.

It had been a long month.

The twins still hadn't gotten in touch with the Order since the sky opened up, and likewise they hadn't gotten word from either of their relatives - let alone the Ordermaster. That was fine. Noah told himself. They didn't need to be in contact - Hunters were autonomous and they were trained to operate without needing the support of other Hunters, but having the others at his back, made him feel better. Made his feel like he wasn't fighting this war alone.

"You're not alone Noah."

Vivienne's voice echoed into his mind as he released a light smile.

"Yeah, I got you here with me."

"I don't just mean that I'm here with you; I mean that we're not alone."

She told him.

May seem like it's just the two of us, but we got allies scattered all over the world. We may not see them, but they're there."

"Yeah, you're right." Noah muttered as he continued sharpening his weapon. Stopping for a moment to turn it over as he looked at the wounds it bore. "It's always good to have someone watching your back." He admitted as he went back to work.

"So, any luck getting in contact with the others anyway?"

Noah glanced at his phone and earpiece staring at them before shaking his head. "No, last call I sent out was nothing but static." He told her. "I'll try again when I'm done with this."

"Nah, I'll do it. Soon after you're done you hop in here to get clean."

"Alright." Noah muttered, cutting the link that connected him to his sister and got back to work. That said he took a breath before turning his attention to the window, his eyes looking to the late night that was still encompassing the city. "Hate how quiet it is tonight."

London

The Underground was a rumor left by a forgotten age. There was no proof that it existed, well, not officially anyway. The London Underground was built by families associated with the Freemasons. Every batch of cement used in the construction of London's tube station, was handcrafted in preparation for a potential Demon Invasion, so that in light of a dark hour Templar and their allies could transform them into a safe haven.

Sitting in what could be considered her "quarters", a young woman breathed as she opened her eyes. Her moment of self reflection and inner cleansing having come to an end as she turned her attention to the icon that was resting on the pedestal before her. It wasn't the Catholic Cross, nor the Icon associated with the old Zakarum Church. It was… in truth some blend between the two, showing where it's roots had began and where it was going after uncounted centuries of being "reshaped" so it may join them in the new age. It made sense in her mind, after all, following their corruption by the Lord of Hatred and being confined to Kehjistan in the old world. To come into a new age, they had to change their face, change their icon… but in the end their message would forever remain the same.

Getting to her feet, the young woman stepped away from the Icon as she turned to her equipment, and looked them over as she checked to see what she had to work with.

She didn't carry much, but she had what she knew she could work with.

There were her twin auto-guns, enchanted so that her magic could either empower steel shells or even fire it as a "Pseudo-bullet".

There was her Combat Cross, a replacement for the heavy flails used by her ancestor; it was easy to carry and with a wonderfully retractable chain within it.

Then there was her claymore, the massive blade imbued with mystic properties that could harm the wicked, be they an angel that fell from the High Heavens or a dreg of the Hell's Dark Masters.

Then there was the armor she wore at this moment. Inspired by knights of old with some modern altercations, it was flexible, breathable and highly resistant to even the claws of a Trauma Demon, and what she found to be a true blessing though, was that her armor was as much a weapon as it was a shield.

Then again when your armor is both enchanted and mechanical, and equipped with power fists that was to be expected. Gathering her weapons, setting them on her person, the woman took a breath as she headed out returning to the underground as she looked around. There lies lies hundreds maybe thousands of people here. Men, women, child - countless individuals he'd never met till now had been brought here. They weren't certain what to do, though he understood they were trying to make sense of what was going on in the world now. Demons ran wild across the globe and angels had descended to combat them. This was no fantasy or masterful illusion. They had seen them when the Endwar began, seen them with their own eyes. How could they make sense of such things without questioning their beliefs?

"Galahad."

Turning her head the lady-knight looked to see her fellow knight looking at her. "Percival." She greeted. "What is it?"

"We're nearly ready to move above ground."

"Good." She muttered. "I'm tired of just waiting down here."