The first day of the Plague was one of confusion. Across the world, militaries blundered around in confusion, civilians gaped in astonishment, and governments closed their borders and threatened to "push the button" out of sheer, animalistic terror. However, one group managed to keep their wits about them: the doctors.
Across the world, humanity’s finest surgeons, medics, corpsmen, psychologists, and pharmacists watched the plague with the eye of a criminal mastermind: scared, yet analytical. For weeks, they compiled data on everything about the Infected, from feeding habits to internal functions to estimated time of survival until reanimation, even kept records of decomposition rates for the Infected. None of them knew if their data could be compiled with others, or if it would be seen again: they just knew that it was their duty to do so. By the end of the month, the surviving medical personnel of the world met in New York City to discuss their findings. They were hardly optimistic.
Mankind,the readings projected, was doomed. Within just one to two years, the Infected would control roughly 79% of Earth’s inhabitable surface. No matter what could be done, the force facing them could never be stopped. The only hope for mankind would be those of the medical profession: without doctors, people wouldn’t just die of the Pague, but of anything from cancer to a simple case of pneumonia. However, if these medical personnel remained spread across the world, the odds of their survival, given the number of Infected reanimating within hospitals and clinics, would be lower than 8% by the end of the year. If such a situation were to occur, there would be far too few doctors to tend to an already strained population, and the plague would spread even faster than before. This left one option that could possibly save mankind… At the cost of their profession’s soul. They would have to abandon those who they had sworn to protect and heal.
They would have to abandon all of civilization.
The plan was passed with a 40% majority. With that, the best and brightest of the medical world departed the cities and towns en masse, retreating to an area in the Himalayas held by UN Special Forces infantry. However, of the 30% that stood against the motion, at least 20% stayed behind, and the pasths to the safe zone were treacherous, to say the very least. Once the doctors began to arrive, the undead followed, leading to vicious battles outside of camp with heavy casualties amongst the soldiers. The camp was originally designed to hold 3,000 soldiers and 200,000 medical professionals. In the very end, only about a quarter of both groups actually made through to see the end of the first year.
Through the observation tools available at the camp, the assembled doctors could see what was happening to the world: they watched it die before their very eyes. As they watched each and every city become overrun with waves of infected flesh, hope slowly left them like the flesh slowly sloughing from the bones of archaic infected like a funeral shroud. The doctors were at a loss of what could be done: to leave the camp without combat force would be suicide, but to simply leave the world to die would be an even worse fate. Without enough soldiers to protect them, they could not oversee the very duties that they had sacrificed so much for the opportunity to continue doing!
This all ended one day with an epiphany. A new video-feed was being shown- an interview with a surviving doctor. The camp inmates gathered around, watching in horror as just behind the doctor, the dead rose on the morgue slabs behind him. One doctor watching the video was a young neuro surgeon, known for his past as an athlete. He stared as they devoured the assistants of the doctor, and came for him and the crew. What gave him his idea, though, was the doctor’s reaction. Crying out to the crew to run, he whipped out a pistol and began firing into the mob. When he ran out of ammunition, he began picking up scalpels and jamming them into the the head of the enemies. As his shouts of anger and retribution were drowned out by the moans, the young man watching his demise suddenly filled with purpose. He knew what would become of this group of wayward clerics.
They would become the greatest warrior-mystics of their time.
Since that fateful moment, the Knights of Hyppocritus, or more often known by their nickname, the Knights Medicus, have been humanity’s frontline warriors against the undead.
Trained since infancy as warriors and healers, each knight is deployed to one of the sub-orders after their graduation assignment, which usually involves a small group of cadet knights deploying to a heavily-infested area alongside an instructor to find survivors, take care of them, and then find a way to clear the town of most of the Infected. All of these objectives, including exfiltration, must be completed within three weeks.
There are four major sub-orders within the Knights Medicus, with each one commanded by an Order Master, with the Grand Master in overall command. Each sub-order has smaller detachments, known as Chapters, spread across the globe, along with a reserve force kept within the main fortress within the Himalayas. The average Chapter has anywhere between 100 to 350 members, and often share their base with Chapters from different sub-orders.
Each different sub-order has a unique overall prupose within the organization. The Preliators are the military sub-order, with the lion’s share of their advanced training given to combat technique and strategic training. Whenever tougher infected positions are faced by the Knights, the Preliators are always some of the first with their boots on the ground. They are the single largest sub-order, and judging by the average Preliator’s behavior towards other branches, they know this already.
Never far behind the Preliators are the Eques Equitis, the vehicular support of the order. Their motto is simple: "Always into danger, always out of danger, always on time!" After Basic Training, these knights are given extensive training in the operation of all official vehicles used by the Knights. Their training is so thorough that a single Equitis could maintain an entire Chapter’s motor pool completely on his own; not very efficiently or easily, but it has been done before.
The second largest sub-order is the Medicus, that most famous of sub-orders. These Knights focus on the healing aspect of their jobs, most specifically on the psychological aspect. A soft and caring personality is the best for this sub-order, and many women are found in this branch as a result.
However, there is one very secretive group within the Knights Medicus, well-known for their fighting ability and fearsome reputation. Their names are only spoken in hushed whispers in what few cities remain, as their very name could start a riot. They are few, but strong. Their are powerful, but silent.
They are the Umbra.
These agents of the Knights’ will are specially chosen while still in boot-camp for specialized training. During their course, they are trained to become something that is anathema to most Knights: they are trained as assassins. You see, many nations do not welcome the Knights Medicus, believing them to be a usurping power, and thus will chase down and slaughter any Knight found within their borders. Whenever such a case occurs, it is the Umbra that sends an agent. When given an assignment, they will see it through to the end, and will only stop when the mission has succeeded or they have perished in the line of duty. They are distrusted by many within their own brotherhood for their murderous role, but none can deny their necessity.
After all, for the good of many, what should the damnation of one uncaring megalomaniac mean against the salvation of thousands?