When Ariel Ramos saw a tall giant of a man – or at least she thought was a man – wearing armor she had never seen before, armed with guns that were leagues more advanced than even the world's strongest army could ever procure, wreaking havoc on those godless demons, she'd just about frozen.

But she acted her station; a Captain of Argento's militia she was, not some bumbling rookie fresh from boot camp. Yet, even so, she struggled to properly explain what exactly was it she saw.

There were carnage, that's for sure. The red-eyed stranger had rushed head first into the fray, their unique firearm – a pistol variety if she recalled – firing simultaneously, dropping down flying banshee with deadly accuracy. Gunshot had never sounded so alien to her. Granted, they didn't have many muskets and black powdered rifles in stock, but never before had she heard gun fire being, well, fired at such a quick succession outside of a firing line.

She remembered the way their dark savior maneuvered themselves around the battlefield – the whole town was pretty much one anyway – like some sort of ghostly apparition, dodging every attacks be it ranged or close that came their way. In return for those attempts, those demons were rewarded by a messy and bloody death. Body parts exploding, heads being sliced off clean from the neck; those were some of the fates that had befallen most of the demons by the stranger's hands.

The entire ordeal was brutal, yet it carried with it efficiency that neither she nor her soldiers could ever replicate. It was like watching a one man army at work, and now, she got a chance to go on a mission with that very same stranger.

Garbed in mostly leather armor like most of the men and women she brought with her, she felt oddly naked when compared to what the armored giant was wearing.

She had never seen armor of such make before. The closest equivalent she could think of was the armor worn by their veteran guards, old heads in the militia with even more experience than her in the field.

She wondered, what kind of place had the resource and technical know how to forge an exotic looking armor like that?

It wasn't like any of the armor that Kindred would wear, even among the Demon Lord's ilk.

"We're close."

The Captain didn't flinch when that uneasy, distorted voice broke the silence that they had been carrying with them. The same couldn't be said for some of her soldiers, however.

"Through here."

There was no way to hide it. He made her and the rest of her men uneasy. There was this… air about him that constantly put her on edge, even with the lack of hostility.

"We've arrived."

Ariel did not know what struck her first. Was it the sight of pure destruction and ruin that had befallen the Amazoness village before her or the stench of decaying corpses still left scattered all over the place and, like her, her soldiers were also affected by it all.

"Goddess…"

"I think I'm gonna be sick…"

"…urp!"

Her face twisted grimly as she fully absorbed her surroundings. Charred wooden buildings, stony rubble, and small craters were found all over signifying the aftermath of battle; battles normally fought in skirmishes with fully armed armies on both sides.

This was all done by the work of one man against an entire village of dangerous and highly hostile Amazoness; Amazoness who probably had Demonic support. Yet something confused her greatly.

There were these… green residue found all over the place. It's on the ground, debris, corpses… and upon further inspection, they appear to be sludge-like in consistency. But that's as much as they're going to get describing it, as she didn't dare to let her men – nor herself – touch whatever it was.

Her eyes trailed across the ruined remains of Kindred society, before eventually settling on their dark-clad savior's back.

'He's… he's dangerous…' She realized this before they left Argento, but seeing the aftermath of his battle reinforced that notion even more.

"Captain, your orders?"

One of her men approached her, to which she recomposed herself.

"All of you; divide yourself into two groups and search the area. One half will look for anything resembling Demonic artifacts that we could bring in for our priestesses to study, while the rest of you search for the remains of those kidnapped…"

It would be nothing but pure wishful thinking to find a survivor in this whole mess. If the initial capture didn't finish the deed, then the battle that took place here most certainly did.

Sighing, Ariel hardened her expression. She came here with a task and she intended to accomplish that task; the task of finding the captured civilians' remains. It's the least she could do for the family of the victims.

"Mister Six, a word?" She called for the Courier, prompting him to approach her. She noticed the lack of noise even as he was stepping on dead leaves and pebbles. Or was it just her?

"Captain?" The Courier's distorted voice was beginning to grow on her, whether that was a positive thing, she's not sure.

"Although the Elder briefly informed of what you found here, I would much rather hear what you have to say." Information for the source was always the best. Besides, the Elder tend to… 'simplify' her reports, one of the few bad habits she had.

"...hm." She almost dismissed it as her just hearing things, but she was very certain that she heard something resembling amusement coming out of that helmet.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. I just find it amusing." So she was right. "Usually, I'm the one asking the questions but… never mind. What do you want to know, Captain?"

'So he's capable of feeling amused… that's good to know.' She kept the tidbit of newfound knowledge to herself. "About the Amazonesses you fought, was… this all of it?" She gestured to the corpses of Kindred strewn about.

"I'm afraid not. A few managed to slip past me and ran further into the woods. My concern was finding the survivors and the dealing with the Savage Queen and her lieutenants quickly, so I did not have time to pursue."

Yikes… that reminded her. He had to deal with a menace like the Savage Queen and some of her more prominent ilk. Heh, how could she forget? She got a clear look of their heads staked on a post on the side of the road leading to Argento, after all. And, despite all of that, he still dared to chase after those that fled?

What a scary mindset he had.

"How many of them would you say fled the fight?" It's a fight, not a battle. A battle would imply there was an even number of people fighting.

"Not enough to warrant further retaliation or any significant counter-attacks." The Courier's words – she would not lie – eased her greatly.

One of the many reasons why they could not afford to after the Kindred after they finished their raid was the inevitable counter-attack that would come after. It was just foolish to chase after them deeper into the woods where they would have traps laid out and waiting for any able-bodied men they sent to chase after them.

It was wiser and smarter for them to consolidate their forces and build their defenses within their walls while simultaneously recover from the attacks. Like everything else that mattered when it came to fights with the Kindred, it always came down to numbers.

Numbers that they did not have and were not willing to lose any further.

"An advice, if I may?" Ariel was snapped out of her inner thoughts, courtesy of a distorted voice she was slowly getting used to. She nodded, motioning him to continue speaking. "It's not worth chasing after those that fled. At this point, who knows where they've gone."

She felt relieved knowing that someone with – possibly – more or the same experience as her came to the same conclusion she did.

"I agree," she said, nodding. "We're better off scouring the village and do our initial task of finding remains. If you don't mind it, mister Six, please assist us in our work." She might just be thinking too much about it, but was that a nod of approval from the Courier?

"That goes without saying."

"I appreciate it."

In the end, they did not manage to find any survivor. Just as she thought, it was only wishful thinking. Still, she believed it was not wrong to hope; never was. They made the laborious and taxing effort to burn the dead Kindred bodies in a pile while wrapping the bodies of any humans they found, regardless if they're turned or not.

As they watched the pyre burn, carrying thick black smoke into the air, forcing those that watched to cover their nose from the stench of burning flesh, Ariel's eyes wandered to the Courier whose general direction was fixed towards the flames.

With daylight gone, they only had their torches and the funeral pyre as their source of light. The region they're in might be known for its tropical climate and all-around warm weather, but the wind at night could be chilly when circumstances were right.

She, against her better judgment, approached the dark-clad figure, curiosity leading her.

"…why go through all the effort to burn them?" She asked, unable to hide the subtle but ever present disdain in her tone.

"Does the burning of bodies carry a significant meaning behind it here?"

"Yes," she answered with a grimace. "Normally, a funeral pyre is reserved for those who had died a warrior's death. It's meant to be an honorable display to send of brave warriors to the after life, so to see kidnapping, raping Kindred be treated like this…"

"Calm yourself, Captain," though the words came out without flat, she could not help but take it in as a command, one that her body immediately complied with. "Do not mistake this as something as sacred as that."

"Then why burn them in the first place?" She wasn't proud to admit it, but she most definitely lost her cool and raised her voice when asking.

"For starters: it's an effective way to prevent diseases from spreading." The Courier began speaking. "Carrion birds and pests like rats will feast on the decomposing bodies and find their way into your city, carrying diseases and residual Demonic Energy from the flesh they consumed in them."

She listened intently, drawn to knowledge being revealed to her.

"These same animals would then return to their nests of dwelling while simultaneously polluting your city. I will ruminate a few: the rats will die in the sewers and inevitably taint the source of your drinking water, while the birds will hide in your granary, feasting on your harvest while leaving behind droppings that will definitely contaminate your food supply if not inspected and cleaned properly."

He paused for a moment, letting her digest the information that he had just bestowed upon her.

"Fire consumes and cleanses all. It destroys most diseases and prevents the further spreading of it."

Cold realization dawned upon her.

"...it's almost the same as the method the inquisitors would use when hunting witches…" she muttered, recalling morbid but nonetheless factual stories that she had been told about in the past.

"Oh? That happens here too?" The Courier turned to face her, his head tilting just a little bit.

"...not often," she said, "not anymore, thankfully."

"I see. That's good to know." He sounded… satisfied? "The next reason is something else; something that I am very good at doing. You might even call it my specialty."

The Captain blinked, curious. "And what might that be, mister Six?"

She did not know what to expect, but when the Courier's head slowly swiveled towards a particular direction, it prompted her to follow the general direction of his gaze.

[Perception 10]

Success!

"Sending a message, Captain. It's what I do best."

The Riot Armor's helmet's red lenses glowed bright, activating and granting its wearer perfect night vision.

Somewhere, in a place undisclosed to mere mortal senses, a figure floating in the emptiness of space was frozen stiff as a statue when they felt the subject they had been secretly watching stared back at them from the scrying device they're currently using.

"Oh my… what an interesting specimen I've found for myself… Who would've thought those muscle-brained Amazoness would be singlehandedly wiped out by one man? You can hide under all that leather and armor all you want, stranger, but I know a man when I see one~"

Within her realm of shadow and magic, a Kindred had set her sights upon a dark-clad stranger.

"I can't wait to find out more about you. Kukukuku~"

For better or worse, fate had decreed for their paths to cross

"Sir, Captain Ramos wants to see you."

It had been roughly three weeks after he lead the group of militia to the Amazoness village he ruined. The whole time, he'd been staying in Argento and assisting the people here in multiple facets other than combat.

He'd introduced them to a better way of dealing with the wounded, sharing his medical skills with the healers and medics of this settlement. It took a lot of work, but the people here were quick to learn; a trait picked up out of sheer necessity.

Not only that, he also contributed some of his survival skills to the militia. Although he wasn't familiar with the environment, there was still a thing or two he could teach the people of Argento about surviving the outdoors.

He also taught them how to build things such as tools, individual outdoor shelters for camping, better traps for hunting, and even introduce them to the proper way of maintaining their stockpile of muskets and black powder rifles.

Needless to say, the locals were beginning to warm up to his presence. At least those in militia, the same could not be said to the local civilian population, unfortunately.

He stood up from the leather bedding of his sleeping roll he'd laid out. The sky was clear tonight, giving them clear views of the stars above. He was offered a proper shelter to stay, but he insisted on sleeping outdoors, as usual. He's used to [Roughin' It], after all.

"She's waiting at camp. The rest of us will take over from here." That would explain the six other people that were with him, the Courier gleaned. He leaned down to pick up his ever trusty Hecate II anti-material sniper rifle, attaching it to the sling on his shoulder.

He gave the militia member one final nod before making his way through the treeline, traversing through a route specifically planned to be secretive while being relatively simple to navigate.

In the middle of his trek, he noticed the rustling of bushes, but did nothing as a two shadowy figures ascended from the sidelines to approach him. He straightened his posture.

"Thunder!"

"Lightning."

They were Argento's militia, as expected, posted out here to act as watch for the camp further down the path. The use of code phrases was something he suggested to the Captain as an extra layer of security, he was glad they decided to implement it.

"Sir," one of the helmeted militia began, "Captain Ramos is waiting for you; I'm afraid it's urgent."

"Why?"

"We've had an…" If it weren't for the mask covering his face, they would've been able to see his right eyebrow steadily rising, "incident. It's contained, but it'd be best if you see for yourself. Come, we'll lead you to her."

From here, it didn't take him long before he could see signs of light and human life, for that matter. They cleared a clearing for them to set up camp. It was no NCR camp, but they'd at least made it comparable to an NCR Ranger Station like the ones in the Mojave. Defensive measures sourced from the wood found plenty all around were erected, and men were posted with circulation.

Treated leather tents were erected side by side, another contribution he made by showing them the right way to treat leather to make it waterproof so as to not deteriorate quickly when exposed to the elements.

"Over here, sir, in the medic tent." One of the militia accompanying him stated, leading the way. His destination, it appeared, was the larger tent located at the further end of camp.

"Ah, you're here." Captain Ariel Ramos acknowledged his presence the moment they entered the large tent used to accommodate the wounded, "luckily we managed to deal with it before any more of us got hurt... can't say the same for Santiago, poor bastard will be out of commissioned for a while."

The Courier noticed that two of the six cots present in the tent had been occupied. One of them was unconscious, while the other one was audibly groaning and making sounds of muted pain.

Out of the two, it was the one half-conscious that drew his attention. A female militia member was showing signs not unlike that of a very heavy fever. He could see the sweat quickly building up on the surface of her skin coupled with the flushing of skin, but what eluded him was the strange tattoo-like markings that were slowly forming on the skin.

"What happened?" He wasted no time getting to the point.

"We've a case of Demonic corruption." Captain Ramos revealed, her tone and countenance grim. "It was so sudden. One moment she's with all the others all well and fine then she suddenly started going after the men in her group."

Immediately, the air turned cold. The nature of the matter was quickly solidifying itself into a serious problem, one that could potentially endanger everyone here. Someone, dressed white robes with a shawl covering most of their face, stepped up, drawing everyone's attention.

"Private Lara's condition is slowly worsening, Captain." Though muffled, there was no mistaking the feminine voice of the healer. "We've administered every method of cure we have… unless our friend here knows anything about slowing down Demonic corruption?"

"I'm afraid that's beyond me," The Courier shook his head. He'd dealt with radiation poisoning and regular poisoning, sure, but something like Demonic corruption was outside of his understanding.

"Then there's truly nothing I can do." The healer's muted voice breathed, slumping as her assistants went to wipe the sweat off the incapacitated girl's forehead, "all that we can do now is hope and pray she doesn't turn on us when the corruption fully settles."

Aside from the constant grunts and whimpers of pain from the poor private currently suffering on the cot, the room was completely silent. The Courier felt truly helpless at the moment as he was completely out of his expertise.

From what he managed to glean from observing the healers of Argento work in their churches, dealing with Demonic corruption was not like curing a common cold. There were methods to slow down the process and even stop the entire thing altogether, but if those don't work then it's pretty much over.

"No amount of spells, miracles or holy sacraments will do anything if it's this far gone…." the woman's voice was hollow, completely devoid of feeling.

The Captain was biting her lower lip so hard it's wonder she's not bleeding. She was frustrated; it was as clear as day, but she had to keep a level headed because she's the Captain and she had to be a proper example for her troops.

"How did you subdue her?" The Courier's distorted voice momentarily snapped the two women off their thoughts, bringing them back to actively thinking.

"We had to pin her to the ground and that alone took five grown men to accomplish including myself…" the Captain sighed helplessly, "but we managed to put her to sleep with a spell, or Miracle if you want to get technical about it."

Miracle? Ah, holy magic. Leah touched upon this topic, though briefly. The Courier took several steps to walk over to Lara's side, his tall stature looming over her like a monster straight out of a children's bedtime story, though that wasn't the case here.

"Demonic corruption… from what little I've gleaned, it's what happens when a Kindred infuses a different species with their energy. Also called Monsterization, am I right?"

"Yes, that's exactly it." the healer nodded her head, both eyebrows rising. "It doesn't necessarily have to be from Demonic sources, as all Kindred carry within them Demonic energy. This is usually transmitted through wanton acts like copulation being the most common, but other methods such as being bitten, having Kindred mana pour into the body through a wound, expelling essence, and prolonged exposure to environment that had been corrupted with Demonic energy would also result in Monsterization."

"But the men they captured, none of them were turned to Kindred."

"That's because men could not be turned into Kindred," the healer said. "Monsterization occurs only when Kindred mana enters the body of a human female. When a Kindred forces itself into a female human, they stole all of their essence and replaces it with the Kindred mana that they pour inside, effectively corrupting them with Demonic energy."

The healer paused.

"Besides, the men they captured would eventually get the life sucked out of them. So even if they could be turned, they wouldn't be alive to go through with it."

A heavy air of silence settled, before eventually being broken by the tallest person in the tent.

"Was she a virgin?" The Courier asked bluntly, to which the healer sighed.

"No. She's still pure." A pause. "I checked."

"Then how?" Captain Ramos asked, sounding lost. "We checked her body for injuries – anything resembling a wound or mark but found none!"

"And we are nowhere near any Demonic terrain…" The Courier muttered. "Otherwise we would've all been affected."

"She's a good kid…" the healer whispered, caressing the face of the now still girl. "I always see her during mass… praying. Never missing a day…" A few shuddered breaths escaped her lips.

"Joanna…" Captain Ramos placed a comforting hand on the healer's shoulder.

"...Captain, we have protocols for this, please, let me do it." The healer's quiet voice drew their attention.

With a slow pull of her hand, she unveiled the shawl that had been covering the majority of her head, revealing to everyone youthful features stained with tears. Frazzled blond locks were in disarray, face twisted to reflect bitterness. "At the very least… this child will leave this world a human and not one of those heathen monsters…"

For a brief moment, an image appeared within his head.

A man covered in bandages with the corpses of enemy tribals at his feet and in his right hand is the crystallization of God's fury. The very same fury he had holstered on his hip.

He shook the image off, letting it fade away into the deepest part of his psyche.

"Joanna, I…" Captain Ramos realized that she was struggling to give the healer an answer for her request. The Courier sympathized.

It's one of the many reasons why many of the enlisted men and women in the NCR pass up the chance or just plain avoid becoming an officer. They'd be responsible for not only important decisions that could determine the outcome of a battle or fight, but also the lives of the men and women they're serving with.

It was also one of the many reasons why he didn't look forward to becoming the leader of an independent Vegas, despite being the key-figure for its hard-fought independence. He hated sending people out to do things on his behalf, especially if it involved things that could get them killed.

Which was why he never really forced his companions to really follow him. They were always free to leave him wherever and whenever they felt like it. They're not indebted to him; never was, never will.

"Is there really nothing else we can do?" The Courier asked, the somberness in his voice hidden by the filter of his mask.

"I'm afraid not." Joanna bitterly said. "All that we can do now is to let go of her gently, or leave her be so she can begin again as an abomination."

The Courier tensed, something that Captain Ramos noticed. She blinked, giving him an inquisitive look. "Is there something wrong, mister Six?" she asked.

"...nothing," he answered, "nothing is wrong, Captain. Although… if you do not mind me asking, should we not be worried about her attacking us once she…"

"No," Joanna answered. "The Monsterization process is usually almost immediate, but the sleeping spell I've cast on her prevents it from completing. Meaning… if private Lara were to wake up now…"

She left her sentence unfinished, letting it hang in the air. Not that she needed to in the first place, seeing as it was clear as day what it was she's implying. If anything at least, in The Courier's opinion, it'd be a painless and peaceful one… not exactly how he'd like for himself, but there's always worse ways to go.

With her eyes closed, Captain Ramos steeled her resolve.

"I see. Then there is truly no other way. Priestess Joanna," her voice came out with authority, "I give you the permission to give private Lara her final rites. By the Chief God's mercy, please prepare her properly."

"I shall."

After watching the brief exchange, The Courier let himself outside of the tent. He watched as several people dressed in clerical robes and healer attire entered the tent. Not long after, Captain Ramos herself exited the tent, looking like she'd just ate a bad can of Cram.

"You okay?" The Courier asked Captain Ramos. He could sympathize with her; it's never easy losing a subordinate.

"No… I'm not." The Captain exhaled loudly. She maintained that stressed look, something the Courier was willing to bet would remain there for a while. She turned to the Courier, her eyes hard as steel. "This is very alarming. Demonic corruption don't just happen suddenly, especially not when there's no Kindred around."

Underneath red lenses, a pair of sharp eyes narrowed.

"What if there's Kindred around?" whispered the Courier with his hands crossed over his chest.

His question made the Captain freeze. Her eyes turned vacant, while her lips slowly formed a prominent scowl, and olive colored skin did little to hide the frown lines that formed on her face. He got the feeling that the Captain didn't quite find what he was insinuating to be appealing.

"...are you implying what I think you're trying to-" He cut her off before she could went off at him.

"As you've said, Demonic corruption can't come from nowhere." That shut her up almost immediately, but the glare she's giving him made it clear that she wanted to hear more. The Courier hummed. "Direct contact with a Kindred is the only cause for Demonic corruption, the Priestess said it herself. That's why I asked if she was a virgin or not. That way, we'd have a trail to go off from."

His explanation seemed to calm the Captain down a little bit. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite done yet.

"Take this as someone who knows a thing or two about the human body and medicine. Just because she hadn't lost her virginity, doesn't mean that she didn't have any 'contact' with anyone." As he expected, the Captain's expression returned to how it was previously.

"Then what do you suppose we do? How do we even begin to start an investigation?" The Captain asked, managing to keep a composed and even tone despite the serious situation. "We can't just start asking everyone if they'd had… relations with the poor girl. That's improper."

"I agree, but desperate times calls for desperate measures." He sighed through his mask. "We can probably hold off from doing that any time soon, right now, why don't we start with something we can work with?"

"Like what?" asked the Captain.

"Let's start with searching her belongings, things we know that had been in close contact with her for a while."

The Captain nodded stiffly. "That, we can do. Follow me."

It didn't take long for them to begin their investigation. After news of private Lara's death had spread through camp, some of the soldiers had been ordered to gather her belongings. Right now, in a different tent, he along with Captain Ramos and Priestess Joanna were going through a dead woman's belongings in the name of figuring out what caused the Demonic corruption in the first place.

"Nothing… nothing, absolutely nothing." Captain Ramos grumbled, setting down a small leather-bound book. "I went through her journal and I couldn't find anything other than notes taken during training and sermons."

"A devoted girl," Priestess Joanna spoke up, sifting through some of the deceased private's clothing, "I've prepared her as best as I could with what we have on hand. Captain, I think recent developments have made it so that we must conclude this training exercise early."

The whole reason why they're out here in the first place was so that the armed militia of Argento could conduct a training exercise that would further increase the readiness of its troops.

After the recent raid that the Courier helped stopped, Captain Ramos and the other leaders felt the need to train their troops for any future raids or attacks. With the Courier's help, they had been conducting multiple successful training exercises for the past few weeks.

Until now.

"I suppose you're right," the Captain sighed, "I'll tell the men to start packing, we'll be leaving at dawn."

While the two were exchanging this brief conversation, the Courier took the journal that the Captain was previously reading. With gloved hands, her quickly flipped through the pages.

Something interesting about his current predicament; although he could understand the words that the people in this world are saying, he couldn't say the same about the things they'd written.

Somehow, he's perceiving them talking in English while they're most likely perceiving him to speak in their equivalent of a Common Tongue. He had no real explanation of how this was possible, and he'd pretty much blamed it all on it being magical in nature.

He made it clear to the Elder and the Captain of this predicament, and they responded by providing him with tutors and access to a facility that would help him learn how to – not only write and read – further understand the language of this new world he's in.

That alone was more than enough to get him to stick around for a while.

He pulled out a long and thin cylindrical object from one of the many pockets he had on him. Priestess Joanna noticed him holding the piece of foreign object, asking, "what is that, mister Six?"

"A pencil." The Courier answered while picking up the journal. "A writing utensil, essentially a piece of graphite stuck to a wooden stick."

He brought the opened book closer to his face for inspection, focusing his attention especially on the middle pages. When he found what he was looking for, he laid it back down on the table.

"What do you plan on doing with it?" asked Captain Ramos, curious.

"See this? There's a page missing." He pointed to the part of the book he's talking about.

"Huh, I can't believe I missed that..."

Understandable. Being a [Voracious Reader] himself, he's able to spot when a perfectly fine book had been tampered with. He then began to work his 'magic', using his pencil to begin shading on the page after the one that had been torn out.

The indentations of the deceased private's writing was imprinted, and the pencil easily brought it back to light. As he was doing this, both Priestess Joanna and Captain Ramos couldn't help but be amazed.

'Ingenious!' The Priestess remarked internally. 'None of us would've thought of doing something like that.'

"There." The Courier slipped the pencil back to its rightful place. "The lessons I've been attending have been helpful, but you'll probably have a better time figuring it out what's written on it."

Captain Ramos picked up the journal again and she began reading.

"I shouldn't have done it, I shouldn't have. I know it's a crime, but I can't miss out on the opportunity. Finding that strange book from the Amazoness village was not something I expected, but I knew I should've turned it in. I remembered what Hernandez said about Kindred paraphernalia selling for a lot of money, so I've gone and sold it. Chief God forgive me. I know I should've turned it in, but my family needed the money."

After she finished reading the journal entry, Captain Ramos set the book back down on the table before immediately pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You… stupid girl…" The Captain gritted out, both in frustration and worry. "Why would you do this? You could've gone to me, to any of us!"

"The spirit is strong, but the flesh is weak." The words came out of his mouth before he could register it.

"Well said, mister Six." The Priestess said in agreement. "We shouldn't begrudged her for falling into her shortcomings. What's done is done. Right now, we shou-"

Screaming and the sound of tent fabric and support being torn of interrupted whatever the priestess was about to say. They rushed out of the tent, immediately greeted to the sight of destroyed medical tent while several soldiers were scattered all around in varying states of disarray.

"What happened?!" Captain Ramos grabbed a nearby soldier who was in the middle of running by the scruff of his neck, stopping him.

"M-Monster…!" The soldier gasped out, nothing but horror reflected on his face. "A monster!" Clicking her tongue, the Captain dropped the soldier, letting him scurry off in shambles.

Chaos was literally erupting around them. Previously combat ready and healthy soldiers were either on the ground sporting some sort of injury or had been rendered not moving by some manner of spell. The Courier's sharp eyes scanned the area, his heightened battle awareness allowing him to spot the problem not long after.

"Look!" The Captain and Priestess's eyes darted to where he's pointing.

"Oh Goddess…" Priestess Joanna gasped out, clasping her hands together

Floating above them in the air was none other than private Lara herself. Unlike before, however, she looked way different. Her skin was the color of ash and a pair of ram-like horns protruded from her cranium.

The white cloth that had been draped over her lifeless now was now worn as rags that barely covered her modesty, rather, it only served to make her all the more depraved.

Soft, innocent features had been twisted to look more alluring and lecherous. A long, thin leather-like appendage could be seen swaying behind her, itself connected to her back of her hip. The Private's previously vibrant and virtuous eyes now gleamed with nothing but carnal desire and depravity. Her hair had changed to match the color of freshly fallen autumn leaves, billowing in the air like a mass of perverted tendrils.

Black leathery pinions burst from her shoulder blades, wings of midnight black that seemed to absorb all light. Throbbing, purple veins emerged from within and extended until it covered every inch of visible skin.

He didn't even think. He immediately deployed his powerful sniper rifle, its variable zoom scope professionally trained on the figure floating in the air. Without any warning, he pulled the trigger.

The loud and powerful sound of a .50 Caliber being fired off the barrel was enough to make anyone nearby react in surprise and fright. The Captain of Argento's militia and the Priestess had to shake themselves from the initial shock, their eyes focusing at the target of the rifle.

The powerful bullet that would normally punch a hole through a T-45 Power Armor found itself vaporized before it could even hope of reaching its target, an invisible barrier responsible for its destruction.

Seeing this, the Courier lowered his rifle, yet his eyes remained trained on the target.

"Kukukuku…" Every male within the vicinity felt their very being shiver, their muscles tensing just from hearing the tone of voice alone. Ashen eyelids opened to reveal a pair of ruby red pupils, irises similar to that of a reptilian creature replacing what was formerly there. "What a wonderful sensation~"

He felt his heartbeat quickening, beating within the confines of his chest like an overworked engine. Fortunately for him, Priestess Joanna was there to shed some light as to why he was feeling this way.

"A Succubus!? She's turned into a Succubus, not a lesser one?!" The Priestess shouted in morbid realization, quickly rushing towards his position, "mister Six, snap out of it! Don't let her take a hold of your senses!"

"Easier… said… than done…!" He was forced to his knees, his rifle hanging loosely on the sling attached to his body. "Shit…!"

"Aaaw… what a delightful evening," the being of lust chirped, a deranged smile plastered on her face, "so many delicious smelling snacks plenty for picking~" her tongue hanging out the corner of her mouth, as if to taste the very air itself.

All around them, male soldiers were either in a similar or far worse state as he was. They'd succumbed to the aura that the Kindred was radiating. Some were straight up unconscious with obscene looks on their faces, while most had found themselves stuck in a delirious-like state.

To him, it was like having his back stacked with an ever increasing amount of boulders after running rounds around Zion. He could feel his strength leaving him, along with the will to resist.

"By the Chief God," one female militia member screamed in horror, "she's absorbing their energy without even touching them!"

And it was exactly that. One by one, every male soldiers were dropping like flies while their female counterparts could do nothing to stop it. With each passing second, their condition worsened. Captain Ramos noticed this and was already in the middle of mounting a defense.

"Archers! Fire at that Demon!" By her command, female militia members began firing off arrows from various positions at the now burning camp. She turned to her two companions, addressing them, "I'll have to take command. Joanna, stay here and tend to mister Six!"

At some point, fire had erupted amidst the ruckus, contributing to even more chaos. If a high caliber bullet fired off from a powerful rifle couldn't even hit the target, what good were a bunch of primitive projectiles like arrows would ever hope of doing?

Still, the continuous volume of shots served to distract the Kindred while Priestess Joanna dragged the Courier away to relative safety. Behind a supply cart, the Priestess was preparing to tend to the Courier, her hand reaching for his mask.

But her patient's hand immediately shot up, stopping her from doing exactly that.

"What are you doing?" The Priestess demanded, "we need to check for corruption!"

"Do not. Touch. My. Mask."

The Priestess's heart skipped a beat, but not in the way that was good. She felt her blood grow cold and her skin crawled as a shivering sensation ran down the back of her spine.

"...sorry, but don't." The Courier apologized, realizing his tone. "...in a pouch on my waist… there is this small, cylindrical glass tube with a needle at the end of it... give it to me, please."

Priestess Joanna, realizing that she wasn't going to help the Courier in a normal manner, complied with his request. She followed his instruction, opening the pouch to find multiple cylindrical shaped objects with a thin metal needle covered by a cap made out of this tough material that she was not familiar with.

On the other end of the tube was this rod-like component that fits snugly inside the barrel and seemed to be able to move back and forth should pressure be applied to it.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice wondrous despite what was currently happening in the background.

"A drug."

"I can tell, but this vessel, what does it do?"

"This."

With a flick of his thumb, the courier popped the needle cap off the syringe before jabbing it to his thigh. The action shocked the Priestess, but she noticed the fluid contained within the instrument decreasing as pressure was applied to the plunger.

Almost immediately, she took notice the sharp intake of air from the Courier, who discarded the interesting piece of medical instrument away. The breathing, which was heavy and haggard previously, had significantly slowed down to a more normal rate.

"What did you do? What was that?" She needed to know. If this could help with dealing Demonic corruption even a little…

"I injected myself with a drug that affects my central nervous system," he said, voice no longer strained, "still doesn't have a name, but it's… working."

"You don't sound too sure…"

"...never was." The Courier breathed, "it's still in its early developmental stage. I'll tell you about it later, right now, we have to deal with that… thing."

He managed to bring himself up to his feet without the Priestess's help. Once standing, he immediately checked his rifle, racking up the charging handle and making sure that there's a bullet in the chamber ready for him to fire. Priestess Joanna shuddered, saying, "the spell must've worn off... it's not impossible for that happen, but my fellow priests and priestesses should've been able to subdue her..."

"Clearly not when she's like that," the Courier supplied unhelpfully, to which he received a rather cold stare from the Priestess, "apologies..." he murmured.

Priestess Joanna sighed. Then, her focus returned. "Those drugs, mister Six, how many of them can you spare?"

"Why?" he asked.

"I want to administer them to some of the downed soldiers," she briefly explained, "some of the male officers were affected, and with them up and running, we'll be able to coordinate the troops properly."

He saw the wisdom in that. Everything's in chaos while that Kindred's cutting down their numbers by incapacitating the men while killing the women fighting her. He took out five more syringes, offering it to Priestess Joanna.

"Only these…?"

"...they're all I have," he said, effortlessly lifting the stock of his rifle to his shoulder, "now get going, I'll see if I can put that thing down for good, it's the least I can do for the girl because whatever she's become it's clearly no longer her." The Priestess could agree with his sentiments. "And remember; those aren't magic. They're medicine, so don't expect a miracle."

"Heh, at this point, I'm willing to take anything that isn't Demon damned." Priestess Joanna nodded. "Godspeed to you, mister Six."

"Hm…"

He turned his back to the Priestess, who retreated to accomplish her task. She enlisted two female militia members to aid her, how smart. He took in the scenery all around him; of soldiers under direct assault as things were turned into ruin and flames. He was tempted to say that he'd never felt closer to home than he was now, but he knew that was just a jinx waiting to happen.

Instead, he set his sights on the cause of it all.

Zooming across the sky, the Kindred-turned-human continued to terrorize them from the air. Balls of flames appeared before finding themselves launched at the ground, along with other manner of arcane mystery not known to him.

Meanwhile, regular humans equipped with conventional weapons tried to fend her off from the ground below. But among the regular men and women, there were some individuals wielding arcane powers of their own.

Magic users were rare in Argento, and those who were present here were hard-pressed having to keep up with both attacking and defending against the Kindred's onslaught.

Grunting, the Courier began moving. He wade through the chaos like a looming shadow, his quiet steps and almost non-noticeable presence made him completely invisible amidst the chaos.

Settling behind a debris of wooden carts and tent fabric, he positioned himself to a sniping position. With his eyes peering through the scope of his sniper rifle, he trained his sights on the Kindred.

Pressing the magazine release of the rifle, he took out a fresh magazine from one of his many pouches. Unlike the previous one, this had a black tape wrapped around it. He racked the handle, chambering a bullet into the chamber.

If normal rounds wouldn't cut it, let's see her try blocking High-Explosives Incendiary Armor Piercing. He had her locked in his sights. His prevalent use of his sniper rifle and proficiency at shooting moving targets simply wouldn't allow him to miss.

His finger gently squeezed the trigger.

And—