Zypher stumbled back as his heart hammered within him. The figure in front of him was not just a god but more so a warning. A warning that the past wasn't done with him yet.
Nyra pulled him back toward the door. "We must go, Zypher. This place is cursed. The gods do not want you to know the truth. We must go now!
Zypher said not a word. In his head, he was raging against the voices, against the shape, against the crushing knowledge that the gods were still watching—still waiting.
Out of the temple, he and the others ran, but the last one died stayed with him.
"Zypher… the truth is a prison. and you've already entered it."
Behind them the door slammed, echoing in Zypher's ears like the bell of the farthest tolling belfry.
They had entered into something much greater than themselves.
And could never turn it back.
The cool, metallic scent of the city air clung to
his skin as Zypher paced, restless, across the rooftop, Neo-ilka's lights spread out below like an ocean of neon. The streets groaned with relentless hums of traffic below, but up here, on this forgotten ledge above the chaos, he could think. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Still, the voices. Their whispers grew louder each day. The words-shards of truth and lies and histories that had faded half from memory-tended to take root in his thoughts. They gnawed at him like a persistent hunger. He could not escape them, not anymore. Not after everything he'd seen.
He had seen the true cost of the weapon Divinitas: the cost of restoring the gods' powers. He could never in a million years have imagined that the price was going to be so steep.
His grasp tightened on the edge of the building as memories, as if summoned by being here, flooded back-ghostly figure who had warned him of all those dangers ahead. It was not just the gods, however, which kept secrets. The weapon wasn't designed to restore balance in the world; it was designed to tip the scales in favor of the gods, granting them dominion not just over the mortal world but over reality itself.
"Zypher."
The voice broke into his reverie, and he twisted to see Nyra standing at the edge of the rooftop. Her form was silhouetted against the warm light of the city below, her eyes somber, but a fire burning in their depths-an intensity that matched his own. She had seen what he'd seen. She knew the game.
"You've been awfully quiet", she said. Strongly voiced, however, and with a thread of unease in her tone. Too quiet. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
Zypher hesitated. He did not want to overwhelm her with all the doubts and growing fears. They were all in this together, yes. But the more they dug deeper into the fragments of Divinitas, the more everything began to splinter apart. Never had the gods been just myths. They were real, and their power was growing, pulling at the threads of the world in ways he could not predict.
"I don't know who to trust anymore, Nyra," he muttered, turning his gaze toward the horizon. "Not even myself."
Her face grew stony, but she moved forward and now stood beside him, looking at him intently. "What do you mean by that?"
He groaned, rubbing at his temple as if trying to push thoughts aside. "The weapon. The gods. It's all so much bigger than I thought. There is a part of me that feels like we are on the wrong side of this. I feel it-the pull of something ancient and dangerous. If we succeed, we might not just be saving the gods. We might be condemning the world.".
Nyra's eyes softened, but her voice didn't. "You are not alone on this, Zypher," she said. "We all are in this together. We all know the risks. But we can't stop yet. The weapon.it's the answer. If we stop now, all of this-everything we've done-will have been in vain.".
Zypher turned fully to her, his cords of jaw flexing tight. "I know. But at what cost, Nyra? You've seen the things they've done-the lies, the manipulation. The gods don't care about us or this world. They care about their power."
Her face tightened. "You're right. But we are not here to mend the gods. We're here to mend the world. We have to bring back the balance before they rip it apart.".
Zypher gulped hard as his glance shifted from the city below, to the world he had always known, to the parts of the Divinitas weapon they had collected thus far. It felt like it all slipped out of his hands with the mission and goal it represented. The more he understood, the more it all came unraveling.
He mumbled, "I dont even know whom to trust anymore," and there was an edge of malice creeping into his voice. "I thought I knew what the right thing was. I thought I knew who the bad guy was. But now… I just don't know anything.".
Nyra's silence was almost deafening. Neither of them said a word for an incredibly long time, standing there and gazing out at the city throbbling below them, its bright lights flickering like the brief hopes of a dying world.
Finally, Nyra broke the silence. "There's someone else we have to speak to," she said. "Someone who may have the answers you're looking for."
Zypher made a disgruntled face. "Who?"
She hesitated a moment, flicking her gaze away. "The mercenary. Jax.".
Zypher's heart sank at the mention of his name. Jax was a man with secrets, a man with an agenda that belonged to himself alone. He had pledged loyalty to the mission, but Zypher knew loyalty was a fragile thing. It was not just some kind of unbreakable tie of trust-it was a currency, a money that could be spent on the basis of betrayal anytime.
"I don't know, Nyra," Zypher said, feeling deeply for the emotion that dripped from his words. "Jax's loyalty is. questionable at best. We've already seen how far he'll go to get what he wants. I don't trust him.".
She stares at him as if she will never look away, an intensity that is just almost too much to bear. "Neither do I," she says softly. "But we don't have a choice. Jax knows things. He's been out in the shadows far longer than the rest of us. If we're going to make it through what's coming, we need to know where he stands. We need to know for sure that he's with us—and not with them.".
Zypher's mind was racing. He'd never fully trusted Jax, but you couldn't deny his skills or his ruthlessness, or the subtle connection to the gods that hung over him. If anyone had an inkling of what was brewing at this deeper level, it was Jax.
"We can't let him hold us back," Zypher muttered, clenching his jaw.
"No," Nyra said, her voice cold. "But we also can't let him turn on us.
Not yet.".
Zypher nodded, but the weight of the decision didn't sit well on his shoulders. He and Jax formed an odd alliance. With every step closer they took to finding their answers, the lines began to blur about who was friend and who was foe. And rarely was there a choice that didn't feel like a gamble. Zypher was finally beginning to realize just how high those stakes sat and how utterly he had underestimated them.
As they turned to leave Zypher gazed back one last time at the city, the Neo-ilka stretching out before him in seemingly endless reaches. A storm was coming, one that would rip allegiances in two, expose secrets, and compel them all to confront the dark they'd unwittingly unleashed into the world.
And in it all, Zypher knew this was one thing, for real: nothing-no one-would ever be the same again.
They were all tied together by the sword of Divinitas, every step on an onward march to tear apart the very canvas of their souls.
Straight to the eye of a storm, and there was no turning back.