A tapestry of earth, stretching out into the horizon, lit by the slowly setting sun. Upon it, was painted a hundred wars, great works of art drawn in fresh blood and bitter memories, an image ingrained into the land itself. Groups of bustling weeds grew out of the ground in the rocky wasteland, marking where the injured had died, drained of their blood, the remains of ancient weapons buried deep below. Layer over layer, the violence had marked this place, hatred growing into an almost palpable aura, inhabiting the sand, the walls, spreading into the hearts of men. Brilliant pillars of light arose, deeds of hero and villain alike, acts so despicable or selfless they radiated, reaching through the veil of history, carrying with them a long-forgotten world. It was poetry, a beautiful tale, sung only to those who could hear it, with the voices of the fallen.

Standing at the crest of a rolling hill, covered in rocky protrusions, Gabriel stared out at this ancient canvas. It was not through chance that this place had been chosen to host the first great strike against SOLDIER. The blood had sunk deep into the soil here, and the promise of bloodshed had drawn those vampires with the longest of memories out from hiding. Many times, this ground had hosted horrifying massacres, and brutal vampire hunts, both sides vying for supremacy, and even survival. Even now, the gentle beat of the drums of war echoed in Gabriel's ears, filling him with strange, psychotic glee.

Once more, the brush had lifted, waiting for the ink that would paint the hills red. Once more, war approached.

Red eyes glowed brightly from underneath the brim of a top hat, as white gloved hands were raised to the sky. Softly, Gabriel hummed a tune only he could hear, his foot tapping to the rythm. And as his fingers plucked at the heartstrings of men, great clouds of thunder gathered high above. The very atmosphere trembled, and the earth soon followed suit. A rumble, an echo, a drumbeat engraved into the stones, that had witnessed a hundred thousand years of brutal slaughter.

Once more, Gabriel would walk among the immortals.

And this time would be the last.