With the first light of day breaking over Neo-ilka, the city seemed to hold its breath. Shadows lingered at the edges of the skyscrapers and the neon glow had receded into the steel veining the towers, while in his mind, Zypher worked at a thousand questions as he wandered the deserted streets with the pendant clutched in his hand, given by the Oracle. The silence of the city only amplified the echo of her words in his head: Others like you are awakening… Trust carefully.
Still, he could recall to date the whispers of the gods; their voices were intertwined within his blood, carrying along a legacy of something ancient and indomitable. But how did he fit into all this? The Oracle called him a Demi-Tech, a descendant with just a sliver of godly power, yet he felt no different, no stronger than that boy who used to tinker with machines in the lower districts of Neo-ilka.
Memories of it all came flooding back. Zypher's head reeled backward, rambles through memories of his father's workshop where broken electronics are pieced together. Salvaged from the heaps of discarded tech littering the ground left by the upper sectors. He had always thought his fascination for machines was just an innate curiosity, an uncanny knack for understanding how they work. But what if it were something more? What if it had all been the glow of a sacred grant, planted so deep he hadn't seen it?
He down a narrow street that took him to the periphery of the city, part of Neo-ilka where the buildings were older and not so fine, with walls scribbled in fading glyphs never rubbed out, as if the city had decided to retain something, even if its people had not. This place filled the mind with memories, secrets in every cracked wall, and worn pavement. It was here, Zypher knew, he might uncover a trace of the gods' hidden legacy.
He entered the district and saw a shop that fit in between two huge buildings. On the door was a sign with a mark faintly placed. The same mark was put on his pendant. Crumbling old books lined up on shelves, artifacts, and relics seemed to belong to a world far gone. Dust floated in the shafts of light breaking through narrow windows illuminating a world left behind in pursuit of progress that the city was moving forward in.
Standing behind the counter was a tall, older man whose eyes were deeply set and his face all-wisdom etched from years of life. His look pierced through all intervening air as if able to see the afterimages of gods lingering in the air. The man looked up, with a faint smoothing of expression where Zypher's own faint suggestion of recognition flared in his eyes.
Ah, another seeker, he grunted, voice rough but kind. "I was beginning to think none of you would ever even reach this point."
Zypher pulled out the pendant, its shine dancing in the poorly lit dust-filled area. "I was told that this would help me find. others. People who know about the Demi-Techs. About my past.".
His eyes narrowed, and he motioned to a chair in front of him to indicate that Zypher should take it. "You wear the mark, but do you understand its implications?"
Zypher shook his head, frustration and longing creeping into his voice. "I know nothing. I was informed that I am a relation of the gods, but. that cannot be so. I'm a very inferior being; an engineer, by trade. I don't feel like a god, either.".
He leaned forward, boring his eyes into mine. "That is because your bloodline and those of others like you have been diluted over the centuries. The gods used to walk free among us, but as their powers waned, they hid themselves within mortal families. And that essence is buried deep, masked by generations of human blood. It needs waking up, Zypher. It needs to be remembered.".
Zypher's chest ached. "But how? How can I.waken it?
The man nodded slowly, as if he'd been expecting the question. He reached beneath the counter and produced an old, leather-bound book. Its cover was embossed with symbols of the kind etched into Neo-ilka's walls, ancient glyphs that vibrated weakly with power. He put it into Zypher's hands and Zypher felt a strange heat emanating from it, pulsating like a heart.
This," he said, "is one of the few records left of the Demi-Techs. Within it are stories of those who came before you – people like yourself who bore pieces of the gods' power. Some of them discovered how to tap into that power, to remember what was lost. But be warned: the process can be. overwhelming. Not all who awaken their lineage can stand the memories and powers it unlocks.".
Zypher opened the book with care; eyes tracing the intricate symbols and faded, dancing illustrations on each page. The pages breathed the otherworldly life, and ink shimmered as he flipped through ancient tales of heroism and betrayal, all as alliances were forged and broken in the gods' war-torn era.
One story seized his attention: it was the tale of a Demi-Tech warrior named Orithia. She had tapped the war strength of her ancestor, the god of war, Ares; her lineage gave her unnatural strength at fighting. However, that strength came at a cost—Orithia had shared memories with Ares, and she was consumed by his rage; it wasn't easy for her to distinguish between what was his and what was hers. The gods' essence was not something one took lightly; it was a legacy with sharp, dangerous edges.
As he turned another page, he found himself looking at an image that made him catch his breath: a towering figure in storm clouds, bolts of lightning arcing from his hands. Beneath it was the name, Zeus.
"You feel a connection, don't you?" the man asked, his eyes glinting knowingly.
Zypher swallowed, his voice quiet. "Yes… It's strange. I don't know why, but I feel like I know him. Like his blood is. mine."
The old man smiled, a mixture of pride and sadness in his expression. "You may very well be right. Zeus's descendants were some of the strongest among the Demi-Techs, but their powers are among the most difficult to awaken.". If that essence lies in you, then your journey will be filled with challenges. But you will have to be prepared for what awakening means. It will not only grant power but also memories—pieces of Zeus's life, his battles, his triumphs, and his regrets. Those echoes shall become a part of you.". He felt the tug of the power concealed within him and, alongside that, the heavy weight of responsibility to come with it. This wasn't about the blueprint, not about the journey, but an honor to a forgotten legacy. Protect a strand of the gods in his veins; protect a fragment of the gods in the blood of others like him.
He looked up at the old man, determined in his gaze. "What do I do?"
The man nodded his head, his eyes growing firmer with the promise. "There is a ritual, a way to call forth the essence within you. It's dangerous, but if you are truly ready to claim your lineage, you will succeed."
He reached into a drawer and yanked out a small vial filled with shimmering liquid, offered it to Zypher. "Drink this under night sky, meditate on your connection to the gods. If your blood responds, you will see their memories. and feel their power.".
Zypher took the vial. The contents moved, gleaming silver, pounding in his chest with excitement and fear. He knew it was the start of something from which he could not retreat, that by drinking this he would be entering a world from which he could not turn back.
But he also knew he must do it. Gods were calling to him, their voice wove into his past, their legacy flowing through his veins. It was a power they had trusted to him, a lineage that was waiting to be remembered.
As he left the shop, clutching the vial firmly in his hand, Zypher looked up at the sky, which was a dark canvas of hidden stars-and the neon glow from the city was ruthless in its supression. He could feel their presence, faint but undeniable, watching him from somewhere beyond.
He would answer their summons tonight. And when he woke, he'd be prepared to take the full steps into his role as a Demi-Tech, unleashing into the world the forgotten legacy of the gods themselves.