For the gods had spoken to him, their old voices merging in with the pounding of the city's heart and had blessed him to retake Neo-ilka from people who would want to witness its fall.
A heavy fog clung to Neo-ilka, a peculiar combination of smoke and mist, dampening sound and distorting light in the way that left the city floating in a grim, dreamlike haze. The umbrellas on the streetlights cast ghostly orbs in the thick of air, and shadows shifted like things alive: merging and stretching in ways one could hardly predict. It was like the city was holding its breath.
Zypher and his team met up again at the safety of an abandoned data center at the edge; nothing seemed to fill the thickened tension in the air. The eerie silence felt wrong, given the melee their last fight was.
Silence was broken by the low voice of Nyra. "Something's off. This fog – Neo-ilka's weather system shouldn't be producing this. This is… artificial.".
Kiera turned her head, taking in their environment. "Fog or not, they're gathering. We've hit their militia, but we'll see something worse come back. Corporation doesn't take to losing, and especially not to renegades."
Orion shifted his rifle up onto his shoulder. "Bring it on. They ain't gonna find us sitting here, waiting.".
But Zypher had gone quiet, eyes narrowed as he watched the fog roll by shredded windows, twisting and thickening as if under some unseen hand. He was fumbling for a piece of the Divinitas in his pocket, and its weak glow began to warm up, pulsing harder and faster in time with the beat of his own heart.
Something, or someone, was coming. Not just the corporations' drones or soldiers. This felt. older, much more powerful than any corporate weapon. There was a feeling as though some hidden force was watching them, probing their will.
"Be careful," he whispered to his teammate, "we aren't alone in this battle. I think something ancient has noticed us.".
A cold breeze filtered through the cracked windows, carrying on it a low hum and the resonance of which made their skin tingle. And Zypher, for reasons unknown, felt the weight of centuries upon him-an unseen army of eyes staring into his soul. There was a sharp click, and the lights flickered in the data center, casting eerie shadows over the room.
No one had time to even realize what was happening before the fog outside them parted, revealing a towering figure in darkness. Tall and statuesque, this figure seemed to be made of mist as well as metal; so ethereal as it vibrated with power, the being moved forward with glacial smoothness, reforming the haze around it like a cloak.
The figure paused, just at the edge of the light, its shape half-hidden by the shadows. Then, with a voice like thunder rolling over some far-off mountain, it spoke.
"You tread upon holy soil," it said, its voice deep and resonant, each word booming through them like a strike of some great bell. "The gods are watching.".
Zypher took a deep breath and stepped forward, feeling the fragment in his hand like an unheard summons. "Who are you?"
Orpheon thought on this for a moment, with a piercing stare that came through its hooded face. "I am Orpheon, a guardian of forgotten pathways, a sentinel bound to protect the realms from intrusions and those who would walk paths beyond mortal bounds.".
Nyra's breath sharpened, recognition striking her face. "Orpheon… one of the spectral sentinels. They say he once guarded the passage between the realms of mortals and gods, ensuring no soul crossed without permission."
Zypher tightened his grip on the Divinitas. "Why are you here now? Why show yourself to us?"
The fog-bound figure tilted her head in a slow, deliberate motion. "Because, Zypher Nyx, you carry more than you understand. The Divinitas fragments are powerful, yes-but their purpose is greater than any mortal can imagine. The power within them is not only to restore; it is to reshape, to remake a world in the gods' image.".
Zypher shivered. It was not the corporations nor the city of Neo-ilka that he was afraid of—it was this ancient knowledge, the burden of wielding power among long-past ages.
Orpheon's eyes turned to the others, his voice laced with veiled threat. "You do not just resist mortals who would subdue their brethren. You are playing forces that lie submerged for millennia, forces which may even be unwilling to save your world.".
Orion pushed forward, without flinching. "If we don't fight then we are lost and nothing more than second-hand pieces scattered by the corporations as they tear Neo-ilka limb from limb--and we are all that remains between them and what's left of Neo-ilka.".
And Orpheon gazed upon him with a cold, ageless stare. "Do you think you are ready to pay the cost of that defiance? These fragments will demand more than blood. They will call forth all the shadows of the old gods, all that remains of their vengeance. You expect to be ready, but the gods are cruel and give one whit nor less for the worth of mortal lives.".
Zypher's determination steeled, the flame of defiance ignited in him. He knew the risk, but he knew Neo-ilka needed change-desperately. He met the veiled gaze of Orpheon, speaking sternly.
"Then bring it on. Let them see to their gods, let them watch. We are not turning back.".
Orpheon is silent, and for a long time, just looks into Zypher as if seeing through him, weighing every thought, every fear, every spark of hope. And finally, the spectral sentinel nods, the faintest acknowledgment of their bravery.
Very good, said Orpheon, the strange sorcerer. But know this: the road ahead will try you at more than a test of your strength. It will challenge your very soul. If you fail, the cost will be your life, and more-the legacy of Neo-ilka itself.
With that, Orpheon raised a hand, and with that, the fragment of the Divinitas in Zypher's hands burst into flame, shining light through the darkness. The fog around them cleared in an instant as if the figure himself had woven it into existence to unravel his creation.
Orpheon's outline faded, and his form receded, like a retreating tide of glory. His voice, however, lingered, a whisper echoing everywhere and yet nowhere.
"Summon the gods if you will, but never forget… they are not merciful.
And they do not pardon.".
As the mist dissipated and the all too familiar eerie silence fell upon the place, Zypher and his crew stood there, with Orpheon's words weighing on their minds.
"Well, what do we do now?" Kiera broke the silence, speaking weakly.
Zypher gazed at the shard in his hand, feeling the rhythm of its power, the ancient essence locked within it. He recalled the echoes of Orpheon's warning, a reminder of his chosen path.
We keep going, he insisted, and his eyes grew hard as stone. Orpheon's warning doesn't change anything. Neo-ilka still needs us. And if the gods think they can stand in our way, they'll learn what it means to face those who fight for the living.
Stepping outside of the deserted building, the city was now unveiled under the cleaned-up sky. It did no longer drenched its area under the rainy fog but the mystery veils surrounding Neo-ilka still remained in shroud. Unknown powers were hiding behind the veil waiting to witness how big a power these servants were who represented the servants of power in the person of Zypher and his crew.