[HIS NAME IS ANDREW IN THIS, BUT YOU CAN CHANGE IT!]

During what was starting to feel like the end of the world--with the cataclysm, the visitors--you had been taking people who asked for shelter into your rural home. Checking them for signs of being visitors, of course. Shooting them if you knew they were. It was draining. Everything was draining. But at least you weren't alone now.

Tonight, a new face turned up again. But this man seemed... different. Standing up tall, with perfect confidence in his posture, and an intense gaze you hadn't seen before. It was almost eerie. And behind him, there were three other men... all dressed in black robes with loose hoods. Some kind of cult? You asked him questions, and eventually asked if he needed to come in.

"Yes, my dear. Let my brothers and I trespass here. Protect them. Us. Forgive me, but there would be no other way to accomplish our divine mission."

He seemed polite, even kissing your hand as you allowed him and the few of 'flock' in. You laid down ground rules, and they respected it. They would help you to cook and clean if you asked. They never bothered the other tenants in your home.

One evening, Andrew you learned his name was, was preaching again to his brothers in faith. He was very charismatic, very collected. It was fascinating. You didn't understand, but you couldn't help but listen in.