Machinery hummed and sirens wailed in the distance as Zypher, Kiera, Orion, and Aegis moved through Neo-ilka's back alleys, shadows clinging to them like phantoms. Neon lights above flickered erratically on/off, casting a pixellated radiance on the Lower District's dark underbelly—a twisty passage of narrow ways lined with peddlers who sold everything from black-market tech mods to outlawed enhancements.
With surprising ease, their new recruit, Silas the cyber-satyr, led them, his hoofed legs making swift entrances through tightened and narrow corridors as well as darkened corners. Half-man-half-machine was this creature with a sleek frame of polished chrome, patches of synthetic fur on his limbs for agility. Electric-green eyes sweep around with a sharp consciousness in him, and his lips curved in an apparent permanent smile, as though he knew some joke no one else was privy to.
Low and skeptical, Kiera finally spoke, "Silas, you have been leading us in circles for the last fifteen minutes. Where exactly are you taking us?
"Patience, my friends," Silas said, looking over his shoulder, his grin growing. "The best secrets hide in plain view. And I just know the place you'll find what you're looking for."
Orion snorted. "I used to think satyrs were just a myth. Now we have one who takes us toward some kind of—hell's gate?"
Silas chuckled, a laugh as if two men spoke in one voice: natural and mechanical at once. "Folklore? Oh, mortals, you amuse me. So much is going on beneath your little feet. And the satyrs. well, we have our own tale, one which the gods left buried with the other secrets of Olympus."
They stepped out of the cab and into a dilapidated warehouse with a rusted, flickering sign reading "Cyberspace Lounge." On the surface, it looked like another run-down club in Neo-ilka's fringe neighborhoods. But Silas rapped out a rhythm on the metal door, and this slide open to reveal a secret entrance .
"Welcome," he said, bowing theatrically, "to the den of secrets.".
Inside, the lounge seemed completely at odds with its exterior: slickly dim and pulsing everywhere with neon blue and purple hue, holographic panels and vintage circuitry plastered along the walls. Dark-clad people lounged on plush chairs, heavy with the scent of synthetic incense and electrical crackle and his augmented visor pointing out he was well off for a waste-heading guy.
All eyes swiveled his way, nods of recognition rippling through the place as he stepped inside, his regularness here- perhaps more, a kind of dignitary, even a semilegend among Neo- ilka's misfits.
He motioned them forward, beckoning them to come on and join him in the corner booth, screens popping to life automatically in order to cover their privacy.
Zypher leaned in forward, on the very edge of his seat and tried to get an angle on the situation now.
Okay, Silas. You brought us here. Now, what's your secret?
He slumped back into his seat, one hoofed leg crossing over the other, his eyes locking onto Zypher with amusement and a measure of seriousness. "You ever wonder why the gods created creatures like us? Satyrs, nymphs, these things that are only in the myth? Not just conjured from divine caprice, but experiments: the gods' first go at mixing meat with spirit, power with play.".
He passively ran a hand over the metallic arm, and for a moment, Zypher saw something else flicker in his gaze—a hint of sadness, maybe even anger.
"The gods left us, bored and having gone on to greater games than this. They did the same to mortals. And some of us. found a way to survive, even thrive within this world they abandoned. I'm one of those satyrs who picked up on technology, fusing my nature to cybernetics."
Kiera raised an eyebrow. "So, you're part of some… forgotten species experiment?
Silas's smile was dry. "You could say that. We were not granted the power of the gods, but we have something else-a bond to this world that even the gods can't sever. I learned early on the secret to survive in Neo-ilka: understand the city's soul, read its rhythms like a song, see secrets beneath its glittering surface.".
Orion remains unimpressed, folding his arms. "And what exactly does that do for us? We are here to gather allies and resources. We are not here for history lessons." He turns his gaze at Silas too. "We are fighting gods, Silas. And tales won't save us from those.".
Silas bent forward, his eyes sparking with great conviction. "Orion, you don't believe in legends, but in this city, they have more power than you could ever realize. And if you ever hope to go toe to toe with the gods, you're going to have to harness all that-every secret, every legend, every forgotten power.".
He pulled out this small device from his coat and slid it across the table. Zypher picked it up, studying it closely. It was an ancient data chip, old and scratched but with unmistakable symbol etched onto it—a trident surrounded by circuitry.
"This," Silas said, nodding at the chip, "is a fragment of a godly weapon, Poseidon's Trident. Or rather, the digital blueprint of it. One of the rare artifacts that holds both ancient power and modern technology. I found it in the lower cyber-bazaar years ago, nearly lost forever."
Zypher's breath caught. "How is this even possible?
Silas shrugged. "The gods may be distant, but they left some signs behind. The Trident was shattered, and bits of it were strewn across the city, each piece lodged in pieces of tech like this. Corporations probably have pieces too, though they probably don't know what they are working with. If you want to put back the gods' spear, you will need some fragments like this.".
Kiera's eyes widened as understanding dawned. "So that's why you came. You really think we can piece it all together."
Silas straightened gravely. "I didn't join for noble reasons. I joined because I know what power is contained in these pieces, and I know the danger of leaving it within the hands of those who want to rule.".
Zypher pocketed the data chip, taking a bittersweet feeling of hope and fear. The blueprint before him was only the start. Should such fragments exist, scattered throughout Neo-ilka, then a place existed where they could build something capable of being equal to the gods.
But before he could utter one, commotion was brewing at the entrance. The privacy screen flickered and then stabilized, revealing a figure who stepped into the lounge with silhouette stark against neon glow. Tall, dark-clad, masked in metal, he radiated lethal calm. A mercenary, no less.
Silas tensed, the easy-going mood slipping on over to guardedly ready. "Sounds like we've got visitors"
The masked figure looked around the room before locking eyes with their table. He came toward them with purpose, every step echoing through the hushed silence that had fallen over the lounge.
Then, as he sits across from her at the table, he pulls down the mask, and it is a striking face lined with scars, bright eyes-a face of secrets.
His voice was cold and unperturbed by emotion. "Silas, it's been a while."
"Leontios. You're supposed to be dead," Silas squinted
And Leontios grinned, without mirth. "Rumors of my death being greatly exaggerated," he quoted dryly. "But it is not you that I sought, Silas. It is him." He raised his gaze toward Zypher.
"News indeed travels fast, Engineer. People are talking about a blueprint, a weapon. If you believe you are to challenge the gods, it is going to take more than myths and broken ancient tech.".
He stepped forward, eyes blazing. "He doesn't need your help, Leontios."
Leontios raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "No? Then let him decide."
Zypher looked back and forth between the two, caught between loyalty and ambition. That heavy fragment in his pocket seemed to weigh upon him, and that blueprint burned within his head. This journey was growing considerably complicated with allies becoming enemies and vice versa; he'd never really anticipated it.
Finally, he met Leontios's gaze unyielding. "You have something to say? Then say it. Understand this, however: I am not going to be swayed from my goal. This is not just a matter of the gods; this is a matter of the city's future."
Leontios nodded his head. "Well, perhaps you might live through this after all, Engineer. Now let us speak".