When men first walked the earth, their bodies naked and stinking, it was like throwing a baby into a tiger pit. Unlike all the other beasts that roamed the world, man had not been born with claws, or a tough hide, sharp teeth or horns. Man's only worth was as meat to the creatures that truly ruled this world with claw and fang.

And so it would have remained, if it was not for Him. He who had approached man while they gathered at their shabby campfires, seeking shelter from the terrors that stalked the night. As man prostrated themselves before His presence, a grand bargain was struck. He would provide man with protection and guidance. Man would feast well on the beasts of the wild from now on, no longer fearing their depredations.

But meat would always remain meat. In return for the boons He provided, man would serve Him as meat. Forever.

And so man shed their blood in his name, bringing him meat in elaborate rituals. Burning, impaling, decapitations. He savored the various flavors of meat that had been brought to him. He was pleased, and man prospered under His protection.

Then the Lamb God came and turned man against Him, their patron and protector. With the help of the Lamb God, man in their ingratitude cast Him down from His exalted position. As the light of the Lamb God spread across the land, He was forced to hide in the dark corners of the world.

And there is no place darker than the human heart.

From the darkness, He reached out once again, this time adopting the form of man and blending among them. No longer was He acting as patron and protector, but a skilled hunter stalking game. First he sampled the small cruelties that man would inflict on one another, beatings, abuse, the odd murder here and there. It sated His hunger for awhile, but his appetite grew, and He soon required more food to satisfy this never ending hunger.

That was when He adopted the form of the old man, the wise old codger, who bearing the fruit of wisdom, would lure men to their doom. He spread the knowledge of hate throughout the world, and man, using the science they were so proud of, slaughtered each other on an industrial scale, sating His hunger for years. But the Lamb God got wise to this scheme, and quickly put a stop to it before the entire crop could be harvested.

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But it was too late. He had learned that men could be controlled to do what He wanted willingly. Man just needed incentive.

And incentive was what He provided. Through the profit motive, men inflicted countless, never ending tiny cruelties on each other. Communities thrown out of work, towns devastated from pollution, the invisible machinery of commerce became His newest tool to cultivate His garden. Small cruelties piled on to small cruelties. A never ending buffet that man voluntarily provided to Him, and the Lamb God was completely powerless to stop it.

But then the virus came. And the magic of the old world proved completely useless against it. The virus could not be bribed. It could not be intimidated. It wanted nothing more than to breed and kill.

The Lamb God was helpless against the virus' onslaught, his worshipers massacred in their churches as they prayed for salvation. He emerged once more from the darkness, ready to take back his rightful place in the world. Only to find a wasteland scoured of life, barren of meat.

Once more, He had become protector and patron, gathering followers as the Great Xir, leading them to safety. In this town, the garden He had so painstakingly groomed, the land had been enriched with the blood of its sons, forming a barrier even the virus had to respect. But it was not enough. More blood was always needed, just as flowers will always need to be watered.

Great Xir leads his pack, chasing after the new blood. He had lured the pair of fools to his garden and the slut believed that the magic of the old world would actually work against him. They would water his blooms, whether they liked it or not.

The pack closes in, the scent of fresh meat, seasoned with the spices of panic and despair, driving Him close to madness. The tip of Xir's tongue flicks out, saliva dripping in anticipation of the meal. Only to taste a heavy, sour odor that wafts from the borders of the town.

The virus. It was here once again, beating at the walls of the only place it had yet to take root. Xir roars in anger, his sport interrupted. Knocking aside the slaves next to him, Xir rushes towards the town's boundary the hunt forgotten, ready to do battle against this merciless enemy ...