The Final Sunrise

Fox will take his staff, the Battle Axe he used to kill Aspen, the Cardinal Bird, Anitisias Last letter to Fox, The Archon Tablet, and the Kitsune Promise Stone. Take one last look around and leave with Oni and Akuma.

After that he will go and live with the Garou, he will explain everything to Sparrow and say that if the hunters win, well they will likely find him eventually, but when the time comes he will make sure that the Tribe is safe.

<Many years later>

Fox sat outside his hut, the winter cold biting at him again, watching the armoured vehicles get closer and closer and began to ruminate on the fall of Kindred society. Although his own “announcement” caused some strife, the third Anarch revolt was already well underway. Camarilla Cities burned, and hunters took advantage and wiped out most of the remaining Kindred, and those that survived either slept the time away or were never a part of the wider Kindred life, either way to be picked off by remaining hunters when they slipped up

What the Hunters didn’t know was how far Kindred influence went. Without their guiding hand, corporations folded, governments fell and civilisation began to crumble. The hunters kept going however, which just made the remaining Kindred even more desperate, military strikes, mass embracing… WMD’s. The Vatican was the first to be hit, not that it helped much.

Fox looked over at the twin graves of Oni and Akuma, overgrown and faded, he never had the heart to Ghoul them.

“Good dogs” he muttered

Fox’s beard had grown grey and his appearance had aged somewhat, a side effect of the Magic he used, and the practices he performed. 

He stood, slowly as the years had taken their toll now, leaning on his staff, aged and worn, much like its owner. 

Fox shielded his eyes from the bright lights as the Vehicles surrounded his dwelling and well-armed and armoured people got out and pointed weapons at him and then a loudspeaker screeched to life.

“The abomination known as Fox, you are ordered by the judgement of God’s servants to surrender yourself so you can face the judgement of our Lord”

This is new, thought Fox. Looks like they took religious fanaticism to a new level.

“Is Anderson still alive?” Fox shouted

Another, much older, voice sounded out

“I am Vulpis, indeed I am” 

An old man in a wheelchair moved between the vehicles and showed himself before the lights.

“You were hard to find, until you turned on that Phone. Ready to face judgment then?”

Fox shrugged, and threw a phone at Anderson’s feet, the message “Time for the red pill Fox” still showing on the phone.

“The hardest part was finding a charger for a phone that old”

“I didn’t know that Abominations like you aged. We still have a lot to learn about you, about your weakne-“

“How much Kindred blood have you consumed Anderson?” Fox cut him off

“Wh…What?” Anderson asks, trying to regain his composure 

“How much? How many Vampires have you captured and drained to give yourself a few more months of life? How many still do you farm for it?”

“Lies! What about the Abominable Animals you protected? Where are they? The Werewolves?”

“Not here”

“They will be put down like the rest soon enough, like the wild animals they are.”

“Mmm.. Maybe” Fox mutters and he taps his staff against the ground

Anderson doesn’t really register what happened next, something erupted from where Fox stood, solid light and a force that knocked him off of his chair, the two dozen people to the ground and every Vehicle 2 feet backwards.

After that, the screaming and gunfire started, blood splattered on the ground around Anderson, all he could do was catch glimpses of Fox cutting down the people under his command, moving faster than he could track.

Foxes… Blood… Sang…

For the first time in decades, it sang in battle, the Battle Axe felt light and powerful in his hands, and for what passed for muscle memory came back to him as he threw the blade into another and another, a stray bullet caught his side but he pressed on. The Garou had taught him a few tricks in his time with them, and he wasn’t going to hold them back right now….

45 seconds the fight lasted, every squad member dead, Anderson began to crawl away, his frail legs dragging behind him.

“Oh no Mr Anderson” Fox begins to say, wiping the blood into his mouth, “I’m going to give you the greatest gift, exactly what you deserve.”

Fox grabs Anderson’s leg and drags him towards his hut, Anderson screaming and clawing at the ground uselessly as the door slams shut behind him.


<3 nights later>


Pain wreaked Anderson’s body, not the usual ache of weak muscle and frail bones, but the ache of death. Every nerve had felt like fire as his body died, and now he was this… Thing… One of the abominations. Anderson struggled futility against his bonds, he was starting to feel tired again.

Anderson watched as Fox came back into the hut and braced himself against another round of being force-fed blood, however this time Fox only looked down at him.

“Time to go Mr Anderson”

Fox half dragged half carried Anderson out of the hut and up onto a hill, past the smouldering bonfires where Fox had apparently cremated the men and women he butchered a few nights ago. 

Fox unceremoniously dumped Anderson on the grass and sat next to him.

“You know I’ve lost count now of the years I’ve been around Mr Anderson.”

An unusual panic began to fill Anderson, something in him wanted to hide, but there was nothing around here, nothing close

“You had a lot of people I considered Friends killed, but then again so have I”

Fox looked towards the Horizon, and a small smile spread across his face.

“Do you feel that Mr Anderson, that’s the feeling of… Inevitability.”

Fox shut his eyes and held back the screams as the sun hit his body and began to burn it away into dust.

Anderson however struggled and howled as his flesh burnt and something inside of him was screaming for him to run and hide and survive. The pain that was indescribable, more than anything he could have ever imagined consumed his body. Soon enough it was over and all that remained was a charred body, the remains of his face contorted in agony.


In the forest nearby more than a dozen figures looked on silently as they watched the two figures burn in the dawns light, some shed tears, some watched on as warriors do.

After, one by one they approached the hut and left a small wooden figurine and disappearing back into the forest. The last one to approach, a women, a full head taller than the others, picks up the Axe that was sitting outside the hut, sheds one last tear and leaves with the rest.