As the vampires close in on Kilo Point, hordes of shadowy, bloodcrazed forms rush through the streets at supernatural speed, eyes filled with cold hunger. Those SOLDIER agents in between the centre of the town and the incoming horde fell rapidly, slaughtered through claws, blades and teeth. Men were ripped in two, as screams of death echoed across the city. Families were torn from the windows of their homes, the slaughter indiscriminate, not caring whether their prey held a gun or a child. All were food, all were prey to be hunted, all were mere lambs in this slaughter.

Turning, the agents of the Purge saw their true opponent. As one, the group seemed to gather, shouts and prayers growing to match the screams and howls. Those who had been firing upon SOLDIER gave up the fight almost instantly, turning, ignoring those SOLDIER agents that still resumed fire. SOLDIER, for it's part, showed little regard for causing more death, as their own ranks reformed. And yet, they were ill-equipped to deal with such an attack, having lost many in the previous bloodshed.

'Unite behind me, brothers and sisters. The devil's hand has revealed itself, and stands at our doorstep!' From the masses emerged a giant figure, standing more than 2 meters tall. A massive replica of Crusader armor encased him, a robotic suit in plated armor, routed into his nervous system. One eye had been removed, but Vincent hadn't bothered wearing an eyepatch. In his hand, he held a massive sword, the blade forged from Armoured Glass, the edge lined with silver, and the core filled with branches. 'We are the instrument of His will, we are the hand of His wrath, we are the light in the darkness!' Raising one hand, Vincent shouted out, his voice echoing through every comm system in the Purge. 'Let us show them His light!'

And as the vampires fell upon the purge, they met not with the screaming of terror, nor the desperate flurries of bullets fired by those who already knew they were dead. Even as the smoke from the Baptizers was sent flowing back, nullifying their most powerful weapon, those blazing crusaders did not back down. For in their eyes gleamed no fear, no regret, no mercy. Every single man and woman was filled only with zeal. And as the wave of vampires crashed into their lines, a slaughter commenced.

Vampires jumped their opponents, only to find themselves burning from the merest touch, the crucifixes marking their flesh, even as consecrated blades sliced at their throats. Streams of stakes flew into their ranks, impaling and killing those vampires unfortunate enough to be struck in the heart. Blades and teeth simply glanced off the armour, special straps preventing the snapping of necks. Even as vampires clambered over their opponent, covered in burns, another wave of knights sliced through them, hardened silver scoring the flesh. Even outnumbered and weakened, the Purge pressed on, a dozen vampires fighting to kill a single knight. The corpses of the fallen were crushed under the feet of heavy armoured suits, as empty crossbow launchers were discarded. Lines were formed, the front men wielding swords, those in the back wielding long glaives.

'Unite under me!' Vincent stood at the front, his tall figure visible from across the lines, a symbol of their wrath, his great blade striking down enemies left and right, robotically enhanced muscles crushing vampiric skulls like walnuts. One of the Paladins, equipped with high quality Servomotor Suits, his greatest power was the inspiration and order he brought to his men.

First and foremost, the Purge were vampire hunters. And, faced with their great foe, they were once more unstoppable. Every weakness was exploited, from the vampires disorganized attack to their reliance on blades and claws. As vampire fled before the ranks, they advanced undaunted, heading towards Lady Mohawauuk.