It was warm for D.C. perhaps it was the significant increase of mass on the planet's surface, or perhaps it was the over-pollution causing the world to raise in temperature, whichever it was, the heat was a bit more intense than usual. At nearly 85 degrees with a 95% percent humidity, it was nearly unbearable, especially for the foreign aliens who's home world was cold or dry. For them, it would quite possibly feel like they were in hell due to the intense heat, and given some of the company lurking about the streets, they could has well been. The members of the Holy terror roaming the streets would attack anyone they could, and often did, only to further their message that aliens were not welcome on earth. While it was their opinion alone, they enforced it like it was the general vote that humanity separate was to remain from alien races, whereas in reality most human being wanted piece with their foreign friends, not to participate in their genocide.

Alien and mankind alike walked the streets of what had become the headquarters for alien to human communication and politics, which resulted in heavy Holy Terror and Kradictron forces, wandering the streets and causing what trouble they could, but unsurprisingly only picking on small singles, as most of them were merely cowards with an attitude problem. It was the higher ups that were assigned actual missions that were the real problem, due to the fact that they had real capabilities. The only threat the entry levelers caused was occasional graffiti and jumpings, but no real long-lasting effects. A group of aliens and humans had actually began teaming up to combat anyone who aligned themselves with the Holy Terror or Kradictron, and openly challenged and normally fought them. Dressed as classic skinheads, they were often spotted in high-prejudice areas, the poorer neighborhoods. They had slowly begun to increase in popularity, and then overnight became a huge group, with no known leader.

---

He sat quietly, reading from a small novel with the title Moby Dick, it was a human classic according to the few humans he had developed friendships with, one of them a professor on Human literature, so his word must have had some weight to it. Although, not much of the youth seemed to recognize, or even shown any interest to the variable quotes of the book. Perhaps the latest generation had different classics, and those would surely be discovered but for now, he had a wonderful cup of something called an Americano, a type of coffee, a bitter tasting liquid served steaming hot, and despite it's flavor had a certain way of growing on someone. He drank from it slowly, allow the air to cool the drink as he sipped it, not wanting to burn himself again out of eagerness.

He was what humans called a scholar, a professor or teacher, and had originally taught courses on the varying cultures of each race that he could manage to squeeze into a year. His passion now, was the cultures of Humanity, the only race to actually vary in culture that he had ever discovered, it interested him how differences so large could occur based only off of geographical differences. He also had a serious intrest in higher-class human fasion, and had not gone three months without wearing a suit of some kind.

Same shit, different day.

Hands in his pockets, back against the wall. The same ally, right on the corner of Bad News and Asking For Trouble. That's where he always waited, where no one who knew what was going on wanted to hang out. It wasn't that bad, really, once you got used to it. He grew up in those streets, it was what he had always known. He looked just like any of the other high school drop-outs; shady, suspicious, brooding. One of those brats who ended up there when they had no place else to go. The place where people went after life had screwed them over, sent by wives or husbands or mothers or fathers who left them to rot. The place where people went to purchase that powdered bliss that seemed to be in such high demand.

Though he looked the part, the boy didn't belong there. He was kind, and smart. There were plenty of better places he could be. But the money had to come from somewhere, and this was the only way he could find it. His father, who used to do the job, was gone. Disappeared the same time those creatures crashed into their world five years ago. But he left a family behind, one that still needed support.

So, here he was, in that godforsaken ally once more. Waiting for someone to show up who would either pay him, or shoot him.

Mercury's steely blue eyes flicked back and forth, until they settled on a shadowy figure approaching. The cloaked figure stalked towards him, his heavy boots clicking against the bricks and echoing off the ally walls. Mercury remained motionless, keeping his eyes fixed on the figure, but still being alert to his surroundings. In this sort of setting, as he had learned, one could never be too cautious. The figure stopped about ten feet in front of him. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, but simply regarded each other suspiciously.

Mercury broke the silence. “I'm assuming you're not just here for my charming personality and dashing good looks.” His voice was flat, unwavering; a practiced act of confidence.

“You are correct, boy. Do you have what I need?” The figure spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.

Mercury shrugged. “Depends.”

The figure reached into his pocket and pulled out a lump of cash. A smirk played across Mercury's face, “Now we're talking.”

He rocked forward, separating from the ally wall in a nonchalant manner. He removed his hands from his pockets, presenting a tiny ziplock bag filled with a white powder. He walked forward, closing the distance between him and the figure. He held out his empty hand toward the man, the other holding the baggy of goods close to his body. The figured stayed silent, but slowly held the cash out to the boy. Once it was within reach, Mercury quickly snatched it, then tossed the figure the bag. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

The figure said nothing. The bag disappeared into his cloak, then he turned and made his way back into the ally. The shadows swallowed him once more, and then he was gone. Mercury quickly stuck the wad of cash into his backpack, then made in the opposite direction. He exited the ally out onto the street, where he was able to easily blend back into the commotion of the city.

---

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"In the name of our Father, the Spirit and the Holy Ghost; I bless thee, Loraine Clerk, with our Lord's conviction and strength. May his light guide you on your path, may his holy touch pass unto you the courage and the strength to seek out his enemies: the Devil Spawn which bring with them the end of times, and cleanse our land so that it may once more be pure again."

Loraine knelt within the ancient church, Cross held lightly between her fingers as she tilted her head up towards the priest, his finger dabbing holy water upon her forehead. This was the single greatest honour she had been waiting for her whole life. Having spent years being trained in the arts of war and combat, years reciting passage after passage till she could remember every word of the one true testament from memory, her life was now a tool of God's - a hand with which she would deal his mighty justice, free from the restraint of democracy. Her justice was now unquestionable, and unchallenged in the eyes of her Church.

"Rise, my child". And so she did, without pride, fear, or regret.
"May the darkness of Lucifer leak from your enemies wounds. May the evil you slay forever be scourged from the Land of God. Go now, child."

With the ceremony complete, Loraine was now one of the Twelve Disciples; her predecessor having been woefully slain dealing the Lord's justice. But, it was God's will that he had perished - and so it would be God's will if she should too. She returned later that evening to the church, lights dim, priests mingling in silence carrying out their duties. She knelt in the sight of their saviour Jesus Christ and prayed; waiting for God's will to become known to her. After many hours, Loraine rose once more. Knowing exactly what she now must do, she made her way to the Armoury of the Disciples.

She must prepare for the task to come.

"well, this is fucked..." Henryk muttered under his breath as he peeked out from his hiding spot. He was hiding with three other members of his strike team , one of which was panicking, whilst the other two tried to keep him quiet. The panicking one was a rookie, but Henryk didn't blame him, after all even veterans would be a bit unsettled in their situation.

They had been sent after a Holy terror group set up in an old warehouse that was suspected of having a cache of military grade weapons. when they got there things were going well until someone shouted and shooting started, he thought they'd been discovered and had his men begin attacking, but then he saw what had started the shooting. Three tall aliens, the symbols of the Kradictron on their armor, had come out of nowhere and started assaulting the Holy terror group. His unit was caught in the middle of the fight and all but the four of them had been killed. The Kradictron aliens had made short work of the terrorist with some kind of energy blades. it wasn't long before the whole thing was over and the aliens disappeared as quickly as they came.

Henryk stepped out of cover in the calm and signaled to the others that it was safe. "The is Lieutenant Henryk, we need a medic team here"

---

Elik lead his pack into the somewhat large building, they kept themselves cloaked as the snuck in. They were hunting a sizable group of humans that were part of this 'Holy Terror'. They'd been making a general nuisance of themselves and Elik's pack was sent to put a stop to it. They got in close to the humans first before igniting their blades and striking, showing off their agility and they lept and dashed about the room slashing the humans with their forearm-mounted blades, they had barely noticed the few humans that appeared with black armor and higher grade gear than the rest as the were cut down as well. as soon as they had eliminated all of them they took one last look around to make sure there were no survivors before leaving, recloaking and exiting the way they came, eventually coming to rest on a rooftop out of sight.

"I mean, I guess this is pretty important, right?" Julian started, "They want us all the way over here on the East Coast for something, I mean, it's not like they are just gonna pull us from all the way over in the desert to check out some fancy new gun someone bought or something, right?"

"Probably not," Erik replied, "And if they did, I'm gonna take the gun for myself...but really though, I think something big is going to happen, whatever they can bottle in their minds, cause everyone alike is coming East except for the men left to guard some of the bases West. Whatever, they're thinking though, they better not be doing something insane, I may be up for killing some, but I ain't up for dying to a stupid bug."

"Don't worry about it, if you do choke, I'll make sure your girlfriend is taken care of" Isaac joked.

"Yeah fuck you too man," Erik chuckled, "this better have been worth it..."

Erik was riding in the front truck of a small convoy with his group of friends in the Holy Terror, they had been called to the East Coast to bolster the ranks at some bases and his convoy was just pulling up to their new operating base, a warehouse in an abandoned industrial district, holding some of the Holy Terror's most impressive weaponry. When they pulled up and unloaded their men, however, they came to quite the surprise.

"Well shit, ain't that beautiful, I bet we'll get plenty of years out of this home, don't you think Erik?" said one of his soldiers.

"That isn't right," Erik sighed, "Come on, let's check if the weapons are still there, we're gonna need them safe."

He lead several men into the warehouse, and they saw the gruesome sight; there were bodies sliced, torn, and shredded. What was set apart however, was the black armored bodies of a counter-terrorist unit, also sliced away...

"Everyone inside is dead..." Erik moaned, "You two secure the weapons; the rest of you," he pointed at a large body of terrorists, "I need you to start searching the grounds, there might just still be something worth nothing here..."

---

"Please! Don't hurt me! I'll do whatever you want, just leave me in peace!"

The creature was quite pathetic. It crawled on it's hands and knees, green blood oozing from the gaping gash Loraine had carved with a powerful strike of her hand. It's luminescent yellow eyes wept with a blinding fear - something Loraine, bent upon the evil she thought she saw before her, could not see.

"Where is your leader?" She asked, without a trace of emotion.

They stood in a beat up apartment lit by a single, dim orange bulb that swayed gently from the draft of the broken window. The place would seem quite quaint and homely were it not for the shattered glass, strewn books and destroyed furniture that were the collateral of Loraine's rageless interrogation. Loraine, like the professional she was, had not received so much as a bruise from the encounter. She tucked a loose strange of sandy hair behind her ear as she loosened a heavy pistol, marked with the cross of her Church, from its holster and trained it upon the creatures head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Gargled the alien, voice quivering with terror, muffled by it's screechy accent its species adorned.

"You are a member of the Kradictron. You will tell me where I can find your leader, or, if you cannot, where I can find another of your demon kindred who does." She cocked the hammer of her pistol.

"I'm not Kradictron, I swear! Believe me! I just want to live in peace! I know nothing!" It scratched at the floor at the base of Loraine's boots, pleading desperately. "Just please! Leave me alone!"

Loraine pressed the barrel of her pistol between the eyes of the demonic creature that lay before her. "Then tell me, who is Tazul?"

"T-Tazul?" Came a surprised stutter.

"Tazul! Your contact, your informant. The creature passing you notes, the demon whispering in your ear! Where is Tazul!" She bellowed without anger, but a passionate authority.

"I-I... I..." The creature tried to answer.

"Lie to me again", said Loraine, leaning in closer to examine the darkness of the creatures heart within its eyes. "... and you'll wish you hadn't."

"W-Will... will you let me go?" It bartered.

"I leave God to judge the guilty" Loraine tactfully asserted; purposefully disguising the fate she knew was left for this demon.

The creature paused a while, and pitifully spat a fresh smattering of its green blood across the floor, its claws fumbling together as if fingering a coin. "The East Market, outside Baltimore." Loraine stood from her crouching position, gun still trained against the creatures head.

"P-please!" it begged, "I know nothing more! I'm never given a specific place, it's all I know, I swear it! I swear it!" It let out a screechy sob, almost like a cricket calling out in pain.

"Your information will suffice."

"S-so... will you let me go?"

Loraine looked the creature dead in the eye, and paused a while, waiting for God's will to instruct her what to do. After what seemed an eternity, she began reciting the prayer.

"In the name of God, our benevolent Lord and protector-"

"No, no! Please! I've told you everything!"

"-I, Loraine Clerk, of the Holy Terror-"

"Please! PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU!"

"-cast you back into the darkness from whence you came-"

"PLEASE, PLEASE, NO, NOOOOO!"

"-begone, foul demon!"
BANG.

The wall was coated in the thick green blood that covered the floors. With a hollow thump, the creature collapsed, head now a gaping maw of flesh and exoskeleton.

To Baltimore, then thought Loraine, East Market.

---

Taking a slow, final sip from his disposable cup, he groaned inwardly, satisfaction echoing throughout Every fiber of his being. Ever since his ship landed, his quality of life has improved drastically, he students were excited to come into class, and couldn't turn in their papers fast enough, eager for their next assignment on human culture. He had to say, honestly, humans were so much more interesting than their "alien" counterparts, their cultures were colorful and vibrant, unlike the dull totalitarianism of ancient alien civilizations, humans strived on war and action, instead of bureaucracy and unchanging traditionalism. Humans improved and evolved, evident in their cultures, while aliens had stayed the same for the last several hundred years.

Dog-earing his book, he stood up to his full height, all 6'7 of it, stretching happily and lazily, before tipping the barista 20 dollars and walking back out of the coffee shop, to begin his day.

Walking down the street, he smiled at the people as they walked by, who often either stared in horror or smile back. Making sure to wave friendly, as not to come off as intimidating or creepy. He continued to walk, the same street he trekked every day, to the park behind the library, sitting at a bench that protruded from the library wall, he would people watch for a bit of time, then go into the vast building and return to his research. His students had already covered a few of the major empires, Greek, Roman, and Ottoman but was currently having a brief crash course lesson on every country in the world's history, as well as the branching cultures and sub-cultures. Currently he was on Great Britian, which was so extensive that he had teached on it for two hours a day, three days a week, for the past two weeks. His classes were nearly caught up, and were currently on British punk sub-cultures.

By now the panicking rookie was calmed down and Henryk's unit was about to make their way out of the warehouse when they heard what sounded like a few trucks pulling up outside. "that was quick" one of his squadmates, Orion, said thinking it was their evac. Henryk eyed the door uneasily however, it was too quick "Get in cover" He ordered, raising his rifle toward the door as they moved into a nearby office room. once inside they hide below the widows and behind the door and shortly after a group of holy terror members walked in.

Henryk and his unit shrunk down behind their cover trying to avoid detection until either the holy terror left or they got an opportunity to slip past the terrorists. They kept an eye on the terrorists as they spread out to search the area, hoping they would decide to check the office room.

---

From a nearby rooftop Elik watched as more humans arrived and went into the warehouse, behind him were his two companions, Varus and T'lan, Varus was sitting on the ground and T'lan was kneeling next to him tending to a wound on his leg, it was small a stray bullet from one of the humans had hit him.

Elik turned around and T'lan looked up at him speaking in the Vesuthan language, both Varus and T'lan had ripped out their vocal chips and Elik would have done the same but for practical reasons he kept his for now, he was asking about their next move. "we are heading toward the east markets area, we are suppose to meet our informant there." Elik's voice sounded from behind his helmet followed by T'lan speaking again "yes the one that gave us the location of this warehouse. will we be ready to move soon?" T'lan spoke and affirmative as he went back to tending Varus's wound, as soon as he was ready they would set out for the east markets of Baltimore

---

Loraine had little trouble blending into the crowds. She hid underneath a thick, heavy, black coat that went down to her knee's that covered up her dual pistols and the red cross of her Church hidden beneath its thick layers. No one was any the wiser – for now she was a commoner. She wandered the market, eyeing the relatively common sight of demons aside God's children behind stalls and tents selling all manner of hellish foods and items. She kept her disgust, as she did with all other emotions, hidden behind her stone cold face - "With blinding rage you will smite Lucifer's children, but that which is the rage of God": a proverb she had been taught from a very young age. What she was looking for she was not entirely certain; the word of a demon was little to trust, but it was all she had. All she knew was this demons name, and that he would be found here - how it would be found was a task Loraine was attempting to construct.

She decided she would feign interest in the stalls and their wares, listen to the voices around her, the whispers of demons, for the name of 'Tazul' to be mentioned. She would keep an eye on the dark corners of the market, the streets that wound off deeper into the city that dotted the edges of the cacophony for any sign of individuals who looked like they ought not be there.

Her 'plan' went without event for some time; she made sure not to stay too long in one place to keep suspicion off of her. As she wandered she heard saplings of gossip smattered about the cocktail of people: "Have you heard? That big abandoned warehouse up north of here was raided!", "Get out of here", "Oh, it's true! I heard the gunshots! Something went down there", "Me too!", "Was it the Kradictron?", "I heard it was the Holy Terror" - and so it went on and on. 'Interesting', though Loraine. This would be something she'd have to look into, but not until her current task was done.

She had made her way to one of the borders of the market, the crowds far less dense here, the stalls far more rundown and 'shady' looking. As she strolled, she saw a small group of demons slowly edging their way into the market. She felt a power in her stir, and knew she must pursue within the shadows. It was God's will. She followed close behind.