Darksiders fanfic Chapter 9: Into the Fold

       The two broke through and saw themselves on a cliff overlooking a city, with a paved road nearby leading to it. Unlike the Asian Pagan gods, the Egyptian Pagan gods regularly interacted with their Pagan people. Strife then realized something. By now, one of his siblings had probably reached their respective clues, and remembered to put up their mental barriers. Using one of his fingers, he slit his throat and used his blood to bring forth his ever faithful demonic servant: Jess.
       Jess appeared to be human. Female, with a body both gracefully lithe and curved. On her face were eyes the color of lava, and her head sported brown, flowy hair. Her body was wrapped in tight leather black armor, reinforced at the waist, shoulders, and elbows. In addition to her strongly framed, somewhat pale face, she also wore spectacles the humans called glasses. But that was where the human appearances ended. Curving out both of her shoulders where single red curves the color of brilliant red with several red thorns sticking out. And speaking of sharp pointy objects, out of her head were what could only be described as red antlers. Her hands, like that of any demon, were more like claws, with nails as black as many demons’ hearts. But Jess was different.
       Despite her gender, Jess was called a king in a small realm belonging to Hell, and she was loved by everyone under her rule. While there, a rival demon king came seeking her land and people as his own, and Jess would surly have lost that battle, had War not been nearby. Choosing to ally himself with Jess, the two succeeded in destroying the enemy, and it was the last time the demons there saw Jess.
       Unlike most demons, Jess actually had a brain, and she used it. She decided the ruling the land she owned was insignificant, or maybe she was enthralled by War, she wouldn’t be the first, but for whatever reason, she asked to serve the Balance as servant, not slave, to the Four. The Counsel granted her request, and gave her great power. Extremely polite, caring, and loyal, she was closest thing the Four had to a friend outside their brotherhood.
      “Hello, master. How may I be of service?” She asked in a silken voice.
      “It’s good to see you Jess. I need you to establish a mental connection with the other Riders so we can share what we know.” Strife answered, his throat now fully healed.
       Mumbling words under her mouth, she soon vanished, leaving only a red circle with four smaller circles behind, one of which Strife was standing in. Minutes later, she returned, and the remaining three circles lit up.
      “Testing, testing, one two three. Alright lord Strife, you have your connection.”
Strife wasted no time and cut right to the chase.
      “How’s luck on your ends? Any closer to the Seals?”
      “No.” War replied, one of the circles changing color from red to yellow, to red again.
      “Neither have I. The Crowfather’s domain is vast, and he is more than determined to keep me from him.” Death followed, his circle acting the same way when he spoke.
      “I’m actually about to claim my clue now.” Fury declared.
      “Be sure you have your mental barriers up when you get it. The Culprit has linked the clues to the minds of all participants. Once someone gets a hold of one, they see where they must go to next, as does everyone else. I asked Jess to set up this link so that we could share information with each other, and, should we need it, call for aid.”
      “A wise decision, brother.” War commented.
      “There’s something else you three should know. You’ve heard stories of the Dark Prince Lucifer and the Elder Archangel Mich- Micha- Michae-… I can’t even say his name.” Strife remarked, as if he were a child trying to pronounce a word, some unknown force stopping him whenever he tried.
      “Yes, we’ve heard the legends. What about them?” Fury asked.
      “They’re real, the Elder Archangel and the Dark Prince. And they’re in the Race.”
       A moment of silence fell as they each took time to process what they’d each assumed to be propaganda used in the First War. Michael and Lucifer were names only spoken of around campfires, just stories that only the Angels and Demons believed. Not once had either been seen or heard from, even by their factions. To hear that not only did they exist, but now led their sides in the race… was mind-blowing to say the least. Finally, Strife spoke.
      “On another note, Death?”
      “Yes?”
      “Is it possible for a Grand Abomination to survive being completely submerged in lava?”
      “Oh yes. The Abominations are almost indestructible. Don’t tell me someone found one.”
      “Two, Death. The Culprit found two.”
      “What’s your source on this? I find it hard to believe that anyone could find any Abominations after the Vault incident.” Fury asked.
      “My source is Guan Yu. And the description he gave me matches perfectly with Corrosive Greed and Cruel Remembrance. The looks, the powers, everything.”
      “Weren’t those wielded by your former partner?” War inquired.
      “Yes. Furtim. But you were there when I killed him, along with the other Nephilim.”
      “If the Culprit, if that’s what we’re calling the one responsible for this, has an Abomination, it would explain why they want to see Creation tear itself apart.” Fury added.
      “True. And it also means they’re more deadly and resourceful than we thought.” Strife added.
      “Damn. Enemy reinforcements coming my way. Best of luck to you brothers!”
       As soon as Fury said that, one of the circles went dim, and Death issued commands.
      “Jess, keep this connection open. Should one of you run into the Elder Archangel or the Dark Prince, call for help at once. War, Strife, keep doing what you’re doing, and kill any that try to stop you. As soon as you find a clue, be sure to let only us see what you see. Farwell brothers.”
       The red circle vanished as Jess looked at Strife, a red crystal glowing in her hand.
      “Go ahead, ask your question.” Strife ordered as he turned to leave.
      “Who’s Furtim?” Jess asked as she put the crystal on her belt.
      “Furtim and I were members of a team that was made up of the best scouts, spies, assassins, and saboteurs the Nephilim had to offer. The Espionage Squad is what we called ourselves.”
      “How many of you were there?”
      “Five. All dead, except me. We were the best. In fact I earned the title ‘Gunsmith of Doom’ when I created Mercy and Redemption during my time as a member.”
      “Really?”
      “Yes. We each had to pass several trials to get a spot on the Espionage Squad. One of them was to forge our own weapons. Furtim however, stole our leader’s weapons, and passed them off as his own. Somehow, the trick worked, and he got to keep them.”
      “What prompted you to leave?”
      “Furtim. He was just like the rest of us. Cold, calculating, intolerant of mistakes, efficient, and always put the mission ahead of his own survival. And while we were just rivals, eventually we evolved into bitter enemies. Whereas Death and I butt heads just to try to establish dominance over each other, Furtim and I fought so we wouldn’t show weakness. If either of us, or more accurately, if I, did, I’d killed in my sleep, back when I still needed it.”
      “Furtim would do that? Why?”
      “At first I didn’t know what it was, but now I know it was from always wielding the Abominations. Slowly but surely, he changed to a cruel monster that enjoyed using Corrosive Greed or Cruel Remembrance to make his final, unlucky victim die of torture. Sometimes, he’d forget stealth altogether and go in blood boiling, just so he could slit someone’s throat and watch the Shadow Beast, which is what we called the monster formed from Corrosive Greed, devour and choke everyone else with hot tar. Sometimes, when we reached our target, he’d sink Cruel Remembrance into the shoulder, or other non-lethal area, and watch as the final moments and feelings of his past victims flood the current one. The longer the Abomination stayed in the living body, the more potent the memories and feelings became, until finally, the foreign memories were the new ones. More often than not, the most recent victim was overwhelmed with hopelessness and took their own lives in front of a grinning Furtim.”
       Strife paused, letting his now boiling rage cool. Finally, at the base of the cliff, he talked again.
      “When I put on this helmet, I can be a despicable jackass, but even I have a code. I may have taken lives lightly, but I never made it painful unless they had caused me a lot of grief. I may always threaten people with death, but whatever I ask for is never impossible. And this man was just a sadistic moron that had lost all the respect I once had for him. I was tired of it. Tired of waiting for the final soldier to stop screaming so we could move on. Tired of being the one yelled at for almost costing the Nephilim the battle, because he wanted someone to kill themselves in front of him. Tired of him putting his bloodlust before the mission. So I left. And that’s all I’m going to say on this matter.”
      “I know War feared the day you finally burned the last world and exterminated the last race. I know Fury left because she came to despise all Nephilim except you three. I know Death left because he thought it was pointless, he thought the Rampage held no more meaning. Thanks for sharing you reason with me.”
      “No problem. Let’s get moving.”
       Strife and Jess continued in awkward silence until Strife remembered he was still on foot. Summoning Mischief, he rode down the cliff to the main path to the city, with Jess riding a Phantom Horse of her own to keep pace. Just as they reached the outskirts of the Egyptian civilization, a massive shadow appeared from above.
      “Jess! Here comes the welcome committee!” Strife yelled behind him as he drew his guns.