The land burned slowly, not with flames, but with purpose.
Smoldering prayer banners flapped in the wind. They were stained with blood, soot, and inked scripture — verses that had long lost their original meaning, twisted by desperation and zeal.
From atop a scorched hill, rows of hooded figures knelt under the red sunrise. They faced the east, heads bowed, hands held high in worship. Silent. Still. Unyielding.
At the front of the hill stood a man in white robes, barefoot despite the broken earth beneath him. His face was hidden behind a crude mask — stitched together from skin and porcelain shards. Where eyes should have been, there were only burned holes.
He raised a wooden staff high above his head. At its peak dangled the skeletal remains of a bird, blackened by smoke, its wings wired open like a grotesque angel.
Then he spoke — calmly, softly, as if whispering directly into the hearts of those around him.
"The world bled because it forgot its Maker. And now the unclean rise. The flesh mutates. The dead defy death. You who kneel… are the fire that cleanses. You are the judgment. You are The Ember Saints."
And the crowd whispered in unison:
"We are the judgment."
He turned and pointed the staff toward the valley below.
A rotting corpse of a mutated deer lay twitching near a stream, its antlers twisted into tree-like branches. Its flesh boiled, even in death.
"Beast or man. Undead or defiled. Those tainted by the rain shall not inherit the next world," the masked man declared. "Purge them. All."
And without hesitation, a group of armored followers approached the corpse. They wore rusted riot gear adorned with chains, feathers, and bone talismans. One poured oil over the twitching thing. Another struck a match.
They stood back as the flames devoured it.
None flinched at the scream it made.
Elsewhere — Two Days Later
Rui leaned against a dead tree, panting. "We're being followed."
Li Wei didn't look back. "How many?"
"Too far to tell. But they're organized. Moving like a patrol. No growls. No infected sounds."
Chen Yu adjusted his goggles and peeked back down the hill with a telescope scope he'd salvaged. "I see three… no, five figures. Robes. Weird headgear. One's holding a cross made of bones. So either cultists… or theatre kids who took the apocalypse too seriously."
"Armed?"
"Spears. Machetes. And one guy had what looked like a flamethrower. Homemade, I think. Based on how much duct tape I saw."
Li Wei frowned.
"Let's not engage," Rui muttered. "Too soon. We don't even know if they're hostile."
"Anyone still in robes after two years of this nightmare is hostile," Chen Yu said. "Trust me. You don't wear ceremonial cloth in the end times unless you've fully lost your mind or joined a cannibal choir."
They stayed low and circled northward.
But the tension followed them. So did the stench of smoke.
Miles away, a young scout from the Ember Saints crouched on a ruined chapel roof. He watched the trio through old binoculars and whispered into a cracked radio.
"Three travelers. One female. Two males. No known markings. One of them… glowed. Briefly. Like a candle under their skin."
A static-laced voice responded.
"Confirmed. Test them when the time is right. If they burn, they burn."
He lowered the radio and smiled.
The Saints had new targets.
The village appeared just as the mist began to clear.
Nestled in a shallow valley, it sat like a painting that didn't belong in the apocalypse — cottages made of reclaimed stone and wood, neat fences, clothes hanging on lines. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys. Children ran in the distance, their laughter carried by the breeze.
It looked… normal.
Too normal.
"Looks peaceful," Chen Yu muttered as he munched on stale peanuts. "Which probably means they either worship demons or run a mutant zoo in the basement."
Rui chuckled nervously. "Stop."
Li Wei remained silent, eyes scanning everything — the lack of barbed wire, the absence of visible weapons. No screams, no blood trails. That alone felt… unnatural.
As they stepped past the carved wooden arch marking the village entrance, an old woman approached. Her dress was patched but clean, and her silver hair was tied into a tight bun. She smiled like they were returning grandchildren.
"Strangers are rare these days," she said. "Welcome to Hollowpath."
"Hollowpath?" Rui echoed.
"Yes, dear," the woman replied warmly. "We're a small community. Survivors. We don't get involved in the world beyond. No infected here. No fighting. Just peace."
Li Wei narrowed his eyes. "How?"
The old woman looked at him gently. "Faith."
Chen Yu leaned toward Rui. "Yup. Demon zoo confirmed."
They were given a small cabin to rest in, with real beds and water that didn't taste like rust and fungus. Fresh bread. Soup. Human smiles. Too many smiles.
But there were signs.
Children with strange tattoos along their spines.
Men with burned hands who refused to make eye contact.
Women who wore heavy scarves even in the heat.
And always, the presence of the chapel.
It stood at the center of the village — tall, white, and too pristine. Its bell tower had no bell, but something else hung from it: a blackened metal cage. Empty now, but stained.
That evening, a man came.
Dressed in dusty robes with symbols stitched into the sleeves, he looked like a preacher or a philosopher. His voice was soft, deliberate.
"I'm Shepherd Callen," he said, bowing slightly. "Caretaker of Hollowpath."
"You're in charge?" Li Wei asked.
"In a manner of speaking. We don't have hierarchy here. Only guidance."
"And what kind of guidance tells your people to burn their hands?" Chen Yu asked flatly.
The smile didn't fade. "Discipline, young man. Pain reminds us of our mortality. Of the sins we carry. This world ended because man forgot how to suffer."
Li Wei stood slowly. "Are you part of the Ember Saints?"
Callen's smile faltered — but only for a breath. "We are nothing so grand. The Saints are soldiers. We are pilgrims. We prepare the soul while they cleanse the flesh."
"So you are with them," Rui said, voice sharp.
Callen stepped forward, hands raised in peace. "No need for fear. You are guests. We do not judge travelers. Only those who stay too long… without confession."
"Confession?" Chen Yu asked. "Do I look like I go to church?"
Callen turned his gaze to Chen. "No. You look like one who is hiding a flame inside. That makes you dangerous."
Li Wei stepped between them. "We'll leave in the morning."
Callen's voice became distant as he turned to leave. "You should leave before sunrise. After that, our gates close. And tests begin.
They're with the Ember Saints. I'm sure of it," Rui whispered.
"Worse," Li Wei said. "They're the ones who feed them. Recruit for them. Prepare people for judgment."
Chen Yu was crouched by the window, watching the chapel. Figures moved in and out in complete silence. No laughter now. No songs. No peace.
"They test people," Rui muttered. "I think that cage… I think they burn anyone who fails."
"There's a field behind the chapel," Chen said, voice cold. "I saw it. Crosses. Bones. Rows."
Li Wei nodded. "We leave before first light. No one talks. No goodbyes."
Outside, behind the chapel, Shepherd Callen knelt before a burning brazier. The smoke twisted unnaturally, forming shadows in the firelight.
A masked priest approached, wearing the mark of the Ember Saints.
Callen whispered, "Three outsiders. One glows. One mocks the Word. One… is silent and dangerous."
The masked priest lowered his head. "We will burn their sins clean."
Callen smiled, feeding dried herbs and something darker into the flames. "Then let the fire judge them.