There was a sudden crackle of light that blinded Ion, concealing something that shot away from the abandoned land.
"Cain!" bellowed Abel Nightroad as his body began to change, his fair skin transforming to a dark blue hue, fangs jutting from his mouth and a crackle of electricity running across his body. He took flight, chasing their target into the night sky, lessening the distance between the two. There a flash of red light suddenly shot from the form of Abel's foe. Abel materialized his weapon, a blood red double scythe, and blocked the attack, wincing slightly from the brightness of the assault.
In an instant Cain was gone, concealed by a cover of clouds. Abel tore through the sky, desperate to find his enemy, but his search was in vain. Abel let out a howl, a sad dirge of hate, sorrow and frustration.
Cain panted with fatigue aboard his ship, a vessel that housed only him. His body shook, wracked with pain and fatigue, before collapsing onto a metal table where the stone coffin lay.
"Begin merging process, Crusnik 00 nanomachines, activate." He commanded as a bright light glowed from the coffin as mechanical arms opened the lid and Cain slid inside. The lid was slowly lowered as Cain gave instructions to the ship's computer.
"Set a course for Albion and begin a search. Parameters: individuals of skill and strength, nihilists, mercenaries, religious fanatics. I need to rebuild my Order when my body is finally ready."
A metallic voice called out "Affirmative" as the ship banked, setting a new course. The lid closed with an audible "thud", leaving behind only an eerie silence.
In the slums of Albion a young Methuselah cowered, weeping silently as bruises began to heal themselves. There were continued cries in the distance but he could do nothing, hemmed in by the sunlight, forcing him to simply listen to the shouts of his friends.
A man in a black robe sat at a bar, a large bottle filled with a foul-looking liquid placed in front of him, its position constantly changing after repeated swigs.
"What type of world is this?" the man slurred between gulps, "What world had been created? What have I created?"
Another man said nothing. He hadn't spoken in centuries. He simply watched…and waited. What exactly he watching for was unknown.
A man gave the woman a blow to the face, knocking her painfully onto the ground.
"Stupid woman, can't you get anything right?" he bellowed as the noise around them in the restaurant stopped, all eyes drawn to the scene. The woman slowly rose and stared at the man with her crimson eyes.
"You're a…" the man began. These were the last words he ever spoke. The woman was behind him with celerity unexpected from her form. Her fangs sank into the man's ceratoid artery, sending a spray of blood against the wall while she drank. The man's body fell to the floor with a sickening thud as the woman tossed back her auburn hair and walked uncontested out into the street.
At the Vatican a young looking priest stood over a computer screen.
"Gunslinger reporting" he said in a flat monotone that held no trace of emotion "Existance of Crusnik confirmed. Awaiting further orders."
Abel landed on the ground, his body returning to the dormant form Ion had become accustomed to during the time the two had spent together when each had made visits to the other's empire.
"I'm sorry Father, I was of no assistance to you" said Ion, clenching his fists at his own uselessness.
Abel gave him a small smile before replying. "It is alright Ion, this is a battle between two Crusnik. Don't worry, your help is appreciated."
There was a sudden noise and a young man in an AX uniform jumped in front of them, wielding a gun. He yelled "Die vampire, in the name of his holiness, Pope Alessandro."