Death.

Death was no new concept to humanity.

Hell, it wasn't even a remotely new concept to Creation itself.

Long before the Charred Council enforced their laws, Angels and Demons had waged their ceaseless War for what must have been an eternity.

Across countless Worlds, with countless casualties.

They had undone the Maker's work; and across that graveyard of unmade and unanchored worlds, death had long outnumbered the stars themselves.

Death was nothing new, not to angels, not to demons, and certainly not to Man.

But this…

Looking ahead Noah stared at the blood and gore that had overtaken the school classroom and breathed. He could taste burning skin on his tongue and smell boiled blood. His mind played tricks on him, letting him hear the screams and cries of those that were now lost.

"Damn." He muttered, clenching his fists as he took everything in. "Too late." He told himself. He'd made it, but he'd been too late.

If only they'd been faster. That's what a voice in his mind tells him, reprimanding him for letting this happen.

"Noah?"

Vivienne's voice calls out from the dark corners of his mind, beyond the bridge that separates their minds.

"Are you alright?"

"I didn't make it." He told her. "I… I let this happen."

"Don't do that to yourself Noah."

His sister's voice called out.

"You did what none of us could; you came for them."

"What good that did." He grumbles. "This school… it's for elementary and middle-schoolers." He tells her. "They were just kids." He whispered, feeling a phantom hand slip around his own. "And I couldn't save them."

"We can't save everyone Noah."

Vivienne sounded as tired as he probably felt.

"This is war… and you can't save everyone when War comes rampaging through."

"I know." Noah admitted. "This war, it's one we never asked for."

"No one asks for a war."

His sister tells him.

"And this is one we were dragged into against our own will."

"Story of our lives." Noah scoffed. "Even if you disregard 'This one'." He begins. "We get dragged in to wars and drag people into our wars all the time." He muttered. "Our history is saturated in war and death, and it's against no one but ourselves." He hated that about the Human Race. So many wars, so many lives lost. For what? Territory? Resources? Disapproval of one's opinion? Their fucking skin color? "I'm amazed our Kingdom still stands as it is."

"You're not wrong."

Vivienne admitted.

"But there's a reason it still stands."

"At the same time, there's a reason they chose it as their battleground." Noah bites out. "Why?" He wasn't asking his sister, rather he asked Creation itself. "Why are we forced to take in their War?" There's no answer. "We're taught the Great Conflict has been waging since the birth of Time itself. Whole species - whole worlds have fallen in the crossfire between angel and demon." He growled. "They were bystanders - part of the collateral damage." His growl turned into a hiss as power started to radiate off him. Boiled blood started to freeze over, wal's started to chip and burn away. The remnants of broken objects - the earth started to shake, and he could have sworn there was a thunderclap echoing outside.

"Noah…"

"But they - Angels and Demons - had long decided our world to be where their timeless battle would end." Noah hissed his eyes starting to glaze over, wisps of burning-ash colored light starting to leave them. "Why? Why drag us into this - why drag our people into this fucking war?!"

"Noah!"

"Enough!"

A new voice tore through the teens mind as he stood up straight, his power fading as he looked around. "Who?"

"Compose yourself."

The voice calls orders; It sounds like rough silk.

"None know why the Council cursed Humanity this way, not even their Enforcers."

They tell him.

"But that matters little now. The Endwar has come, and like all before it; what starts with War will end with Death."

They pause.

"You have always been sensitive in light of this truth. You hate it and I don't blame you, young Noah."

It feels as though they wrap their hands arounds him in a hug.

"You may be a Hunter, but you are still very much a child. One forced to stare into the dark corners of this world and beyond, forced to carry on my blood soaked legacy, and that was not your choice."

"Your… legacy?" Noah muttered before his eyes widened.

"Ancestor?"

Vivienne spoke up.

"A moment, young Vivienne."

Their Ancestor's voice whispers as they rest a phantom hand on Noah's right shoulder.

"Young Noah… your sensitivity - your empathy has always been your greatest strength, but it may also be your undoing."

Noah flinches as his shoulder glows and on impulse his left hand goes to his shoulder. When the glow dies down he rolls up his sleeve as he stares at the mark now upon it. "What is this?

"Powers tied to emotion can cause more harm than the greatest weapon a bloodthirsty Maker could create, and the power that comes from carrying my blood can sunder worlds; Remember that."

The Ancestor tells them, as Noah touches the strange brand like mark on his shoulder.

"That will stifle the power you inherited from me; keeping the Cataclysm at bay."

"A seal…"

"It will lose its purpose in time, when you learn to control both your power and your feelings. Until then."

"Is now a good time to get this?" Noah remarked. "This war, to survive it, I might need all the power I can get."

"Do you thirst for power then?"

"No but -"

"The more power one has thrust into their hands, the greater the chance they have to abuse it."

Noah went silent as he felt the words echo in his mind. Those words. Mother had said those words when he was young. To remind him how dangerous such overwhelming, intoxicating power could be. "That thirst for power brings out the worst in people." Breathing Noah nodded his head as he rolled down his sleeve. Power; he didn't crave it. Yes it was helpful, but… "Power corrupts."

"Power isolates."

Vivienne adds.

"The more power one musters, the greater their isolation grows."

Their ancestor continues.

"And the more disastrous the outcome will be, in relying on that power."

A silence washes over Noah and the two shadows taking residence in his mind. "Thank you." Noah breathed as he looked at the Crossblade Necklace he held. "I almost forgot about that truth." Noah muttered. "Power brought by isolation will not save humanity. Power through cooperation, standing together; that will be what saves us. That was what we were founded on. He accepted that truth. That was what they were founded on after all. Not just the Bellerose, but all Hunters. They were strong alone, but stronger together; sharing their knowledge, their skills. They would stand together, they would fight together. No one person had to carry the burden alone. That was what he was taught as a child. Breathing Noah took one last look around before raising one of his hands and held it to his face. He gave a small prayer for those he could not save today. "Ancestor, what should we do now?" He didn't receive his answer. "Ancestor?"

"They're gone Noah."

Vivienne's voice echoed in his mind.

"I can't… feel their presence anywhere."

"To be fair, I didn't even know they could come into my head." Noah remarked. "I thought only you had that privilege."

"Even dead, the Ancestor has powers we can't begin to comprehend."

Vivienne remarked as Noah closed his eyes, finding the ghost of his sister with her hand crossed. She smiled.

"Still after all this time, it's nice to know they're still looking after us."

"Yeah." Noah agreed as he opened his eyes, walking away from the scene of carnage that was before him. "I'm getting out of here, I got an Orthos to return."

"Are you going to be alright?"

"In time." Noah remarked. "In time."

"We save those we can."

"And mourn those we can't." Walking out the hollowed out school Noah found the Orthos was already waiting for him, pulling itself off it's haunches as it saw him return. It felt his distress, but said nothing. Instead choosing to nudge him with its head. Noah just smiled as he raised a hand, petting a feathered head as he returned the gesture. "Don't worry I'll be alright." He told the Orthos. "And thank you." This detour was last minute, but you let us come here without complaints." He admitted. "Now, let's get you home." The Orthos released a noise before turning, letting the Hunter hop onto its back before taking off.

Streets

Vivienne just took a breath as she opened her eyes, her attention returning to the real world as she found Lenore leaning over her. "You're back." Vivienne just nodded her head as she got to her feet. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, Noah was just~ upset." She admitted as she looked at Lenore.

"Was he able to-"

"No." Vivienne muttered as she stretched slightly. "Didn't make it in time."

"Oh." Lenore fell silent as Vivienne crossed her arms. "How is he?"

"Hurting." Vivien admits. "But he'll be fine, in time anyway."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Vivienne shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"If you want to talk, I'm here." Lenore stated.

"I know. Vivienne smiled as she ruffled her sister's hair. "I'm happy about that." She said with a smile as she walked forward, turning to the street that they were walking down. "Anyway, we gotta get to Nomad and the others." No point in staying out in the open like this.

"Yeah."

London, England

She didn't bother counting the streets that they had taken. No matter how many they took, there would always be more to reclaim. The Endwar had taken hold of their world, and the demons had perverted Hellgrowth pollutes the streets, twisting it as it sees fit.

Under her helm Galahad simply breathed as she looked upward and narrowed her eyes. She saw the winged demons just fluttering about. They weren't retreating, they were just drifting almost, looking down on the world their kind had corrupted.

Galahad wanted to call for a rifle, so that she might shoot one down - shoot them all down, but such things would have to wait. Glancing back at her people she nodded unconsciously. They were ready to march, ready to press on once more. Bleeding, bruised, they were ready to fight until Death took them. She could ask for no braver soldiers.

And yet…

"Rest." She ordered softly. "All of you will need your strength."

"It's still early." One of her brother's states. "And we have time before dusk settles." A truth it seems. "Should we not march a bit longer?"

"Look at them Liam." Galahad mutters. "All these soldiers, and all their wounds." She adds. "Though the spirit is strong, the flesh grows weak. They won't make it to dusk at this rate." She tells Liam. "Have them rest, give them at least five minutes." Liam says nothing, just nods his head before relaying the order.

Galahad just sighs to herself as she looks at her bloodied sword. She's too kind. That's always been her weakness. They know it, she knows it. Kindness had no place on the battlefield. It had no place in a war.

Breathing Galahad reaches for her helmet and removes it, letting dirty-blonde locks be seen. Blue eyes stare at her helmet and she just frowns. "The end of the day has yet to come." She tells herself. "Will we make it through the week though?" Would she survive the following days? Would she live long enough to see the second wave come - to see reinforcements come to their aid? "I have no intention of embracing Death anytime soon." She tells herself. "If he wants to take me, he'll have to wait." She states before putting her helmet back on. "And when he does take me, may he even grieve for me having to embrace me."

Tokyo, Japan

Wiping the blood off his sword the faceless man took a moment to sheath it as he looked around, his attention turning to the streets of littered dead and spilt blood. One demon had lost its legs, and was crawling away from the carnage that it had been a part of. "M-monster."

Well isn't that something. A demon calling a human a monster. The faceless man, let's call him Kaonashi, thinks as he flexes one of his wrists and pulls out a thick needle. He throws it and a moment later the demon goes still as it pierces the back of their head.

Humans as monsters… well it wasn't exactly wrong. Humans were terrible creatures. They fight amongst themselves, they betray those closest to them, and they desecrate the dead. Human's were was what Kaonashi believed. Stepping through the street he pressed on, avoiding stepping on the dead as he started making his way elsewhere.

Humans were indeed monsters, and he had no real interest in protecting them in this war.