God, this took way to long to get out, but I finally did it and I'm sorry I left y'all hanging this whole time. Finishing Darksiders 3 honestly left me a little stumped as I tried to decide between adhering to new canon information, or if I wanted to continue with what I'd already had planned out so far.
I came to the conclusion that I wanted to include as much of the new canon as I can, but I'm not going to sacrifice all of my own head canons for the sake of 100% accuracy.
Honestly though, finally getting a more consistent characterization for Strife with what we've seen of Darksiders Genesis so far has made me feel a lot better about what I've had planned and I'm so, SO glad we finally have an actual frame of reference for him (thank you, thank you Airship Syndicate!)
For everyone who stuck out the wait for a new chapter, thank you from the bottom of my heart! I do this for you guys as much as I do for myself! Hopefully the next one won't take as long. (Disclaimer: no promises)

Hope had a problem with authority. Ever since she was little she'd always hated people telling her what to do. Looking back on it now she felt bad for her parents, dealing with her during her rebellious teenage years. These days her problem was less with "authority" and more with "people who think they're entitled to your obedience". If someone didn't respect her, why should she offer the same courtesy? If people thought that they could just push her around then tough shit, they didn't deserve her help.

Rather unfortunately, Hope's conversation with the Safehouse coordinator was definitely leaning more towards the "Entitled" category. Caroline Bush was a stern woman, probably somewhere in her late 50s, and had a habit of looking down at Hope from the end of her nose. The fact that this whole conversation was taking place in what looked like a principle's office wasn't helping either.

"So what I'm understanding," she was saying, tapping her fingers on the edges of the table between them, "is that you want me to tell all of these people to pack up and leave the only safe haven for miles around because there might be an invasion coming."

"There is an invasion coming," Hope said, for what felt like the tenth time. "You've seen the demons moving, you said so yourself. They're planning something."

"So you keep saying, but you've yet to give me any tangible proof," Bush coldly replied. "I'm not just going to uproot all of these people without a damn solid reason for doing so. They've had a hard enough time as it is."

"You really think I would've come all the way here by myself if I wasn't telling the truth?" Hope snapped, feeling her patience reach the end of its tether. "I didn't nearly get killed on the way here for fun you know! Something is coming, and these people are gonna have a lot harder time if they don't go somewhere safe!"

"We're safe here!" Bush leaned threateningly over the table, her lip pulled back in the beginning of a sneer. "The only thing waiting for them out there is demons and death and the last thing I'm going to do is willingly throw them into it!"

For a long tense moment the two of them just stood, glaring icy daggers while Bush's assistants, a young woman and an older man, exchanged uneasy glances. Eventually the coordinator seemed to remember herself, taking a breath and leaning back. The snarl smoothed from her face, but her eyes remained frosty. "If and when something happens" she said coolly, "reinforcements from the Barricades are just a few hours away. Until then, my people are staying here. End of discussion."

Not in Hope's mind it wasn't. She wanted to keep arguing, to make this stubborn old lady see that keeping everyone here was a mistake. But instead she bit down hard on the angry retorts she felt boiling in her throat and reluctantly backed down. It seemed like she'd already done enough damage.

"Fine," she growled. Admitting defeat hurt. "If you're sure you can keep this place safe then I'm not going to do anything to get in the way of that."

Bush nodded curtly and turned to leave. "We don't have too much in the way of spare supplies, but you're free to stay and stock up before you head out to wherever you're going next." She gave Hope that look again, down the end of her nose like a disappointed teacher. "Am I right in assuming you're not staying?"

"No, you're right," Hope said with a defiantly casual shrug. "I've got places to be. Give me a few hours to rest up and resupply and I'll be out of your hair." She made it sound almost like a challenge, half hoping the coordinator would go back to questioning her, but Bush didn't rise to it.

"Right," she said shortly, before turning and calling over her shoulder. "Fukumoto."

The young woman that had been watching the proceedings jerked to attention.

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Please escort Miss Hopkins to the supply depot. Make sure she gets what she needs." She gave Hope one last look, disapproval beneath thinly layered concern. A wry, bitter smirk crossed her face. "Just because I'm not willing to send my people out there doesn't mean I'm going to leave you in a lurch."

Hope didn't grace that with a reply. Trying to argue anymore would only make her seem more immature than the coordinator undoubtedly already thought she was. All she could was glare silently at Bush's back as she left the room. Once she was out of earshot Hope let out a frustrated sigh, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. That could have gone better.

The young woman, the one Bush called Fukumoto, awkwardly cleared her throat. "Right. So," she said. "Uh, I guess I'm giving you the grand tour."

Hope reigned in her anger with a deep breath and looked up, scrutinizing her new tour guide. The woman stood uneasily on the other side of the table, nervously adjusting the pair of tape-wrapped glasses perched on her nose. Her face was round, her hair short and silky black and surprisingly well-kept for an apocalypse survivor. She probably thought the curious glances she kept shooting Hope were subtle.

"Lead the way then," she said, gesturing for her to go first.

The woman nodded and left the office with Hope close on her heels. She lead the way back down the hall, through what had once been the commons. The people sitting up against the walls and the various tables and benches turned and watched them as they walked by, some with suspicion, others with curiosity.

"I'm Aya, by the way," her guide said over her shoulder as she walked. "And... don't worry about the Coordinator too much. She's just worried about all of us here."

"Well, I can't say I blame her," Hope replied. "I'll be the first to admit that it's dangerous out there. It's just..." She trailed off, starting to feel like a broken record.

"I believe you," she heard Aya say and Hope came to such an abrupt halt that her guide went on a few paces more before she realized that she wasn't being followed.

"What did you say?"

Aya turned, biting the inside of her cheek, eyes flicking across the crowds that surrounded them. "C'mon. Not here," she said, grabbing Hope's hand and pulling her into a nearby room. Well, less 'room' and more 'broom closet'. Aya flicked on the lights in the cramped little cubby hole as she shut them in together. There was barely enough room for the two of them between the shelves stuffed full of emergency supplies.

"Right, sorry, didn't want people to freak out," Aya said, shuffling awkwardly to try and keep her personal space. "I said that I believe you. I've been out on supply runs recently, its been way too quiet out there. The only demons I've seen have been on the move, all going in one direction. None of them have even tried to come close to the gate in weeks." She furrowed her brow. "They're up to something, I just don't know what it is. I've mentioned it to a few other people but most of them just tell me I'm being paranoid. But I know something's coming. It's like... the calm before the storm."

"Yes! That's exactly it!" Hope nearly sagged with relief. "I'm so fucking glad someone else is seeing it."

"I thought I was the only one too," Aya gave her a lopsided smile, but she let it fade as she continued. "Convincing everyone else, much less the coordinator, is going to be a lot harder though. Look Hope, I understand if you need to keep some things to yourself, but any information you can give me, any at all, would help. I want to make the coordinator understand, but you've seen it yourself; she's not going to move without a good reason."

Hope frowned, very much believing that if she did give up the information she had that it wouldn't make a difference.

'My Sort-Of-Friends the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse told me that demons are summoning their leaders from Hell to come and crush us like ants.'

Yeah, that would go over super well.

"I doubt anything I could say could change her mind at this point," Hope said. "And I guess she was right about one thing; this Safehouse is closer to the Barricades than any of the other. If something happened you'd be in a better position to do something about it... I don't like the idea of anyone being out here when the demons finally start marching, but I guess I can deal with it as long as there's a chance that you all can get to safety in time..." she trailed off, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She could see Aya watching her carefully and wondered what she was thinking.

"Would you... mind being my wingman with this, so to speak?" Hope asked her. "I can't stay here forever, trying to convince the coordinator to do something she doesn't want to do. But they know you in here. If you keep trying to convince them to leave, they might listen to you."

Aya's lips twisted into a faint scowl. "I can try Hope, but they're going to listen to the coordinator a lot more than they're going to listen to me. Its not like any of us actually know what's going on in the wasteland."

"But I will," Hope told her. This idea was probably stupid and would probably make her seem crazier than she already did but she could feel how she was running out of options. "I... I can send you messages! Troop movements, stronghold locations, things like that! You think that would be enough to convince the coordinator?"

"...Maybe..." Aya said uncertainly. "How exactly would you send me messages though? Unless you've got a secret army of super stealthy runners you're not telling me about I doubt you'll be able to find anyone who would volunteer."

Hope winced. Moment of truth. "They're not so much 'runners' as 'flyers'", she mumbled, and Aya blinked, her head cocking to the side, confused. "Alright, this is going to sound kind of weird but I can... talk... to crows?"

No, nope, that was the wrong way to phrase that, that was obvious from the way Aya shrunk back a little and stared like Hope had grown a second head. "I can use crows as messenger birds," she said instead, in a rush as though it would overwrite what she'd said first. "I can instruct them to come to you with whatever messages I've written, and you can pass those on to the coordinator."

"...Crows?" was all Aya could say, and all Hope could do was kick herself.

"Listen, this is something I can prove, alright?" she said. God, her face felt hot. "And I don't know about you, but as cozy as it is in the little closet with you, I could use some air."

Aya just nodded mutely, opening the closet door and letting them both tumble out, startling a woman who had been walking by. She took one look at their flushed and flustered faces and seemed to draw her own conclusion, giving them an approving nod and a thumbs up. Aya turned even pinker and awkwardly cleared her throat, grabbing Hope by the wrist and towing her down the hall.

Too bad they hadn't actually been making out in that closet, Hope thought. She would have preferred that.

It took a much too long and awkwardly silent walk to get out a door and into a quiet, shaded side of the courtyard out of sight of the main gate.

"Okay," Aya said, dropping Hope's wrist and turning to her, arms crossed and lips thinned into a tight line. "I'm going to admit, I'm not feeling great about the last ten minutes, but I really want to trust you Hope. Please prove that I can."

Hope sighed, rubbing at her face. "Jesus Aya, I'm sorry," she mumbled.

She sucked in a breath and let it out. How did she feel this tired already?

"I wasn't lying about the crow thing Aya. You can trust me, really. Just- let me show you."

Aya gestured impatiently for her to go ahead, and Hope turned, stuck her pinkies in the corners of her mouth, and whistled.

A caw answered her about 30 seconds later and Hope lifted a hand to provide a perch for the large black shape that swooped over the rocky outcropping.

A crow landed on her wrist with the distinctive call that she knew meant Sister!

"Hello to you too," she said, running a finger down the glossy black feathers of its throat. "Thanks for being so quick."

It pecked gently at her fingers. Sister! she heard it say. Did Sister bring food for a loyal sibling?

Hope rolled her eyes but didn't stifle her grin. "Alright you greedy little bastard, hold on," she said, digging around in a pocket for a bit of jerky she kept around for just such an occasion. The crows were usually pretty accommodating to her requests but sometimes they needed an extra little incentive.

The crow snapped the jerky from her fingers and gobbled it down in an instant with a satisfied croak.

"Woah..." Hope turned to see Aya's nervous expression gone lax, eyes wide behind her glasses as she watched the bird perched comfortably on Hope's arm. "You really weren't lying. What... how do you get them to listen to you?"

"That," Hope replied, "is a very long, very complicated story. Maybe I'll tell you once we aren't under threat from demonic invasions. But, it mostly boils down to crows having really good memory. They know that I'm an ally so they tell their friends, and those friends tell their friends and so on. They come to me for food and protection and in return they do things for me."

It wasn't a complete lie. Crows were incredibly smart. Aya didn't need to know that it was because Hope had spent a century palling around with the being the crows called 'Father'.

The crow cawed again. Why do you call me, Sister? It asked.

"Ah, right." Hope lifted her arm and made sure the crow was looking at her before she continued. "Listen good little buddy, okay? This is Aya," she gestured to the woman across from her. "She's a Friend, alright? If I ever need to send one of you here, you can come to her and you'll be safe." The crow hopped along Hope's hand and turned to look at Aya, head cocked at the freakish angle that only birds can achieve. It looked back at Hope and cawed once, uncertainly.

"It's alright," she told it. "You can trust her. Aya, give me your hand for a second?"

Hesitantly, Aya held out her hand, letting Hope grab hold and turn her wrist, gently coaxing the bird to move. Eventually it went, with a flutter of its wings, to perch gingerly on Aya's arm.

"There you go buddy," Hope said, stroking its head. "See? A Friend."

"This is weird but also kind of cool," Aya said. She almost sounded awed and Hope couldn't help but bask in it for a moment. Hope let out something halfway between a giggle and a snort.

"Aya, you literally just described most of my life."

The crow was sent off with instructions to spread the word and Aya continued with their tour, a little more pep in her step than there had been before.

As she led Hope through the halls of the Safehouse, it was easy to see that while it was well-stocked, it was also crowded. What had once been the school's gymnasium had been converted into a sort of barracks. Worn mattresses and blankets had been strewn across the floor, crammed into makeshift cubicles separated out by curtains and tarps. Even now, in the mid-afternoon, it was filled with people; standing between the cubicles deep in conversation, sitting with children napping in their laps, gathered in small groups talking or playing games. She could only imagine how much more packed it got at night.

It felt a little like the Swap Markets back on the other side of the Barricades, all flavors of people gathered in one place. It was much quieter here though. No music or boisterous laughter or voices raised to haggle prices. No, the Safehouse had an air of... desperation, almost. This was only a temporary haven, still too far out into the wastelands to be truly safe. As guarded and prepared as the Safehouse was, it was only a matter of time before some lucky demonic raid broke through and burned it all to the ground. And that time was probably going to come a lot sooner than anyone thought.

She'd stayed long enough, she decided. It was a waste of time to stay if the coordinator wasn't going to listen. At least, she thought, she has Aya on her side. Hope could leave the rest to her and head out to the next Safehouse without feeling like she'd left them to die.

(She would absolutely feel that way later, but that was a problem for Future Hope.)

Aya brought her to the storeroom and said her goodbyes, promising to keep an eye on the skies and an ear to the ground. Hope wished her the best of luck as she left to report back to the coordinator, staring wistfully after and seriously regretting not asking for a hug or something. Who knew the next time she was going to get a hug?

With a sigh that turned into a yawn halfway through, Hope restocked what she could of her supplies, and wound her way back through the crowds and into the gymnasium to track down the most isolated corner she could find. She hadn't realized how tired she was until the adrenaline and nerves from arguing with the coordinator had worn off and the fact that she'd barely slept the night before caught up to her. For once her insomnia couldn't keep up, and the moment she laid herself down her brain decided to just check out.

It wasn't the most restful; the faint noises made by the people around her swelled and ebbed, mingling with snatches of restless dreams and nightmares until she just couldn't stay asleep anymore. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and watching the people trickle in now that it was approaching dusk. For a moment she entertained the idea of just staying here. She could take a position up on the wall, shooting down demons that strayed too close. She could help Aya on supply runs. She could argue even harder with the coordinator and fight to get these people somewhere more secure.

It was something of a nice thought.

She let it go with a sigh.

She couldn't stay, not when she'd given her word. Hope was part of something much, much bigger now, and it wasn't something she wanted to back down from. She was sure that staying here to help would be a noble pursuit, but there were a lot more people, stuck further in the wasteland, who needed her help.

So, Hope picked herself up and walked against the flow and back out into the secluded side of the courtyard, whistling as she went. A crow, the same as she had called before, fluttered down to perch on her wrist with a cry of Sister!

"Hello little buddy," she greeted it, treating it to another scrap of jerky. "Would you go find the Pale Rider for me, please? Tell him the Little One is ready to go."

The crow gave an affirmative caw and took off again, its little black body vanishing almost instantly against the darkening sky. Word would reach Death soon enough, wherever he and the other Horsemen were. Crows had their ways of finding each other. All she had to do was wait.

Hope wandered back out into the courtyard proper, looking for a place to hunker down, when a voice called to her from atop the wall.

"Miss Hopkins! Up here!" She looked up and saw a man waving down at her. The guard who had let her in the gate earlier, she realized.

"Hey!" she called back. "...It's Jeff, right? Mind if I come up?"

"Sure thing! Just watch your head!"

Climbing up the scaffolding, Hope found herself looking out over the concrete walls, watching the sun set between the teeth of the broken landscape.

"Quite the view, huh Miss Hopkins?" Jeff said, lending a hand to help pull her up onto the top of the wall.

"Just 'Hope' is fine," she replied absently. The light was painting deep shadows between the jagged canyons, burning gold around the edges of the jutting spires. The clouds faded from pink to a deep blue. "This would be a lot prettier if the world wasn't ending."

Jeff let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I suppose it would be. Still, we get these every once in a while and its a nice reminder that we're still here to enjoy things. At least for now."

Hope sat crosslegged and leaned back, soaking in the last of the sun. "That's a nice thought," she said. "How long have you been here? If you don't mind me asking."

Jeff took a seat next to her, shouldering his gun. "I don't mind," he said. "It's been 'bout four years or so. Me and my family were out southwest of here when we all woke up. Lost my brother out in the wasteland, but I got my wife and our two daughters out behind the DC Barricades. Came back here make sure more people could get out safely."

"Do you ever see them?"

"My wife and kids?" Hope nodded. "Occasionally. I usually volunteer as escort whenever we get a big enough group to make the trek out east. Its been a while, but I rest easier knowing they're safe."

Hope just hummed, lost in thought. Jeff sat in companionable silence next to her.

"How 'bout you, Miss Hope?" he asked after a long moment. "Pardon my language, but you look like you've seen some shit. What's your story? If you don't mind me asking."

Hope couldn't help the bark of laughter that bubbled out of her. Was it that obvious?

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," she said, stifling the near hysteric giggles she could feeling trying to follow. "I was at the center of it, you know? When the first demons crash-landed in the middle of Times Square. For a long time I didn't know if I was going to survive the next hour, much less the next day. But I did, and now I'm here, and I can never shake the feeling that its happening all over again. I can't stop feeling that I'll blink and all of this-" she waved a hand out over the twilit landscape "-will just... disappear."

"Guess that just means you've got to savor every moment while you can," Jeff said, clapping her on the shoulder. "How 'bout you go get some shuteye? I'll make sure this is all still here for you in the morning."

His crooked smile sent a sharp pang through Hope's chest, and her own smile ended up looking more like a grimace. God, she missed her dad already. "If it's alright with you," she said instead of voicing any of that, "I'd like to stay up here and take watch for you."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I don't really think I can sleep right now anyways."

Jeff smiled, softer this time. "That's very kind of you Miss Hope. I'll go grab your gear for you. Can't have you up here without any firepower, now can we?"

Her chest still hurt, but she managed a genuine "Thank you" as he fished her guns out of a crate and gave them back to her, before dropping off the side of the scaffolding with a wave goodbye. Hope turned back to watch the sun finally dip below the horizon with a hard sniff to stem the sudden urge to cry.

She passed the early night up on the wall, watching the deep canyon shadows with nothing but the waxing moon and what little light spilled over the wall from the dim floodlights within the compound to see by. The darkness was peaceful, even though every instinct told her that it shouldn't be. The cracks and crevices should have been crawling with demons, but the wasteland was eerily quiet. The demons just... weren't around.

It set Hope's nerves on edge. It meant they were hiding. Scheming. Preparing. The anticipation was killing her.

Sometime around midnight, something large and black and nearly invisible in the darkness swooped down and landed on her bouncing knee, bringing her nervous fidgeting to a screeching halt. It croaked at her. Little One.

"Oh," she said, feeling some of the tension bleed from her shoulders as she recognized the big mangy crow perched on her knee. "Hi Dust."

Dust shook himself out and croaked again. Follow me Little One, he said. I will lead you back to my master.

"Finally," Hope muttered, letting Dust hop off her knee before she stood and stretched. "I would've gone nuts if they'd taken any longer." She glanced along the wall, noting the three other guards watching the entrance further down, and crept off in the other direction, looking for a place where she could climb down without being noticed. She supposed that she should have told someone that she was leaving, but that probably would've invited questions, and her nerves were thoroughly shot already. She was itching for anything that wasn't more introspection.

Near the corner, where one giant slab met another, Hope found the concrete worn away enough to provide handholds. As quietly as she could, she slipped over the side of the wall and eased herself down. About five feet up she lost her footing and hit the ground with a sharp grunt, rolling instantly back to her feet and staying perfectly still, listening for anyone who might have heard. When a minute passed and no one came to investigate, she pressed herself into the canyon shadows and started to feel her way forward.

Dust landed on her shoulder with a warbling croak. Clumsy Little One, he teased. Like a fledgling falling from the nest.

"Quiet you," Hope hissed back, bucking her shoulder to throw him off. "Sorry I don't have fucking wings. Just show me where I'm going already. It's dark out here."

Dust gave an irritated squawk, but took off into the darkness ahead, stopping to perch on stones and the brittle branches of scraggly trees to softly call to her. Eventually he led her out of the Safehouse's perimeter and out of the mouth of the canyon. Another ten minutes of walking brought her over the next rise, and on the other side, easy to spot by the eldritch glow coming off their mounts, waited the Four Horsemen. Dust swooped past to alight on Death's shoulder.

"Ah, there you are," he called to her. "I trust you weren't followed?"

"Nah, none of those people are stupid enough to have followed me out into the wasteland in the middle of the night, I can tell you that," she answered. "They seem pretty content to stay right where they are."

"I take it negotiations didn't go quite so well?" Fury asked.

Hope gave a non-committal shrug. "Eh, I wasn't expecting them to go that well from the beginning, to be honest," she said. "The coordinator seems convinced that everyone is safest where they are and wouldn't listen to a word I said. But, I did make a friend who's going keep vouching for me. I'll be sending her crows to keep her in the loop and hopefully she'll be able to convince them before this whole thing boils over." She accepted Death's hand and let him pull her up into the saddle. "What about you guys? You do anything fun while I was busy pretending to know what I was doing?"

"Little remains of the demonic armies here," War said, as seriously as if he were reading a report from the front. "Skeleton crews were manning outposts and encampments nearby, but it seems as though the bulk of their forces have moved on."

Hope frowned, worrying her hands over the saddle horn as Death spurred Despair into an easy amble. "Yeah, that sounds about right," she said. "Apparently the Safehouse hasn't been attacked in weeks." She let out a frustrated growl, dragging her hands through her hair. "This would've been the perfect time for them to leave!"

"Paranoia is often stronger than common sense, Little One," Death told her. "You should know that well enough."

"Yeah I know," she replied. If she sounded like she was sulking, she would never admit it. "Nearly everyone is as traumatized as everyone else, and its just really not conducive to good decision making. I just wish I could've convinced them."

"With any luck they will see sense and get out while they still can. Honestly though, I don't envy the job this friend of yours has taken."

Hope snorted out a laugh. "Neither do I," she said. "But I'm pretty sure she'll be able to do it ten times better than me. And it's not like I'm not going to help. I'll be sending her news directly from the front. Something has to be enough to tip them over the edge."

"Onwards then," Strife said, driving Conquest to the front of the pack. "There are many more places to see and many more people for you to stutter around."

"Oh, fuck you Strife," Hope snapped as he passed by. "I'd love to see you try to do my job."

"Only if you'd love to see me do it better."

"Yeah, alright, you just saunter all 8 feet of your heavily armed shiny ass into the next Safehouse, see how that works out for you."

Hope couldn't see Strife's face beneath the helm, but she could feelthe shit eating grin he was giving her.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you that appearances can be deceiving, kid?" he said cheekily. "Its not my fault you're so easy to fool."

Hope narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?" she hissed, but Strife only laughed and pulled further ahead. "Strife!" she shouted after him. "The fuck does that mean?!"

Above her head, Death sighed the sigh of the long-suffering and spurred Despair onwards.