Chapter 2 – The God Who Walks Among Men
The rain didn't stop.
It fell harder, pounding against steel towers and neon glass, washing the filth of the city into black rivers.
Azel walked through it like a phantom — unbothered, unblinking — his steps rippling the puddles in rhythm with the city's dying heart.
Everywhere, screens flickered with divine propaganda.
> "Serve Order. Earn Purity. Ascend."
The words repeated in endless loops, the voice of a god pretending to be merciful.
Elyon.
The usurper.
A god born from code and betrayal.
Azel's jaw tightened. The sight of Elyon's insignia — a perfect ring of light — stirred something ancient in him. Not rage, not grief. Something colder. A creator's disappointment.
> [System Notice: Host emotional wavelength—unstable.]
[Recommendation: Channel excess energy into mission execution.]
He ignored the warning and kept walking.
The crowd parted unconsciously as he passed.
They didn't know why. They only felt the faint pressure in their souls — like some buried instinct whispering worship.
He looked human, but his presence bled command.
---
He stopped before a vast holographic display floating above a temple-shaped building. It shimmered with Elyon's likeness — a man of light and perfection, haloed by circuits.
Azel watched it for a long moment.
Then, softly, he spoke.
"Your perfection was never meant to be worshiped."
The screen glitched. Static hissed through the rain. For an instant, Elyon's serene face twisted — a flicker of fear, quickly masked.
Azel smiled. "You felt that, didn't you?"
> [System Alert: Host signature detected by Divine Surveillance Node.]
[Recommendation: Relocate immediately.]
"Let them watch," Azel whispered, stepping into the light.
---
The Black Market
The alleyways of District Nine smelled of rust, oil, and desperation.
This was where the broken gathered — criminals, hackers, fallen priests.
Azel descended into it like a god among insects.
The System's voice guided him, mechanical yet oddly reverent.
> [Quest: Acquire Identity and Resources.]
[Hint: Contact 'Shade', information broker and resonance trafficker.]
He followed the trail through flickering corridors until he reached a sealed gate guarded by an augmented giant.
The man's eyes scanned him from head to toe. "No entry without clearance."
Azel raised an eyebrow. "Clearance?"
The man's cybernetic eye glowed red — reading no record, no ID, no birth data.
"Ghosts don't get in," the guard said, his hand tightening on a plasma baton.
Azel lifted his gaze lazily. "Ghosts built this world."
He raised a single finger. The rain that had gathered on the guard's armor froze midair, forming a silver circle — a perfect replication of Elyon's divine symbol, only inverted.
The guard's pupils dilated. His systems glitched, sparks flying from his implants.
He dropped to one knee, choking on static.
"W-What are you—"
"Something your god fears," Azel replied, and stepped past as the gate opened itself, metal bending in recognition.
---
Inside, the Black Market was a city beneath the city — tunnels of light and shadow where power was traded like air.
Men and women in augmented suits whispered prayers to data-spirits, exchanging memory chips filled with raw resonance.
Every deal reeked of corruption — and yet it pulsed with the same creative energy Azel had once used to form galaxies.
> [System Notice: Negative Resonance detected in abundance.]
[Absorption recommended.]
He extended his hand slightly.
Threads of black and silver rose from the air — faint wisps of human sin, greed, and ambition.
They entered his palm like smoke, dissolving into warmth.
> [Resonance +6]
[Energy level: Stable. New skill unlocked – "Soul Trace."]
"Efficient," Azel murmured again, a word that was becoming his signature.
---
A woman appeared from the crowd, her hair silver under the neon lights. One eye was human, the other mechanical, spinning like a clockwork lens.
"You shouldn't be here," she said. "No one absorbs raw resonance without dying."
Azel turned to her. "Then perhaps you've met no one alive enough to try."
Her smirk faltered. "You're not from around here."
"Not anymore," he said.
"Name?"
"Azel."
The name made her pause — something in it resonated, like a forgotten dream. "I've heard that name... somewhere. Old files. Pre-Divine Era archives."
He tilted his head. "Then you already know who I am."
Her mechanical eye focused sharply. "Impossible. The Creator is—"
"Dead?" Azel smiled faintly. "Yes. That's what I wanted them to believe."
> [System Notice: Potential ally detected – Intelligence class: A.]
[Request: Form contract?]
Azel ignored the prompt. Instead, he extended a hand. "You're Shade?"
The woman hesitated, then nodded. "Depends who's asking."
"The man who built your gods," he said simply.
---
The Deal
They met in a low-lit chamber filled with holographic sigils. Each one represented a hidden market, a network of forbidden data, or a stolen prayer.
Shade poured a dark, electric-blue drink that shimmered with micro light particles.
"So," she said, leaning back. "You claim you made Elyon. That's... insane."
"Insanity," Azel replied, "is a title given to those who remember too much truth."
Shade watched him carefully. "What do you want?"
"A way into the Cathedral of Order."
She choked on her drink. "You want to what? That's suicide! Even whispering that can get you erased."
"Then whisper louder," Azel said. "I need access to their mainframe — the Heart Core."
Shade's cybernetic eye whirred faster. "No one even knows where the Core is. It's a myth."
"Not to me."
> [Quest Updated: Infiltrate the Cathedral.]
[Progress: 0%. Required: High-level Resonance Key.]
Shade exhaled. "You'd need a Resonance Key to even approach the Cathedral's walls. And those... belong to their High Priests."
Azel's lips curved. "Then I'll take one."
"Take one?" Shade stared at him. "You can't just kill a High Priest—"
"I don't kill," Azel interrupted. His gaze hardened. "I erase."
---
Outside, thunder rumbled across the skyline.
The neon city seemed to flinch. Somewhere far above, a divine sensor flared — the faint outline of Elyon's mark scanning the district.
> [Warning: Divine surveillance approaching.]
[Engage concealment? Y/N]
Azel's eyes glowed faint gold. "No. Let him see."
He walked toward the balcony, the wind pulling at his coat, rain slicing against his face.
Above the horizon, the Cathedral loomed like a crown of black glass.
"Elyon," he whispered, voice carried by the storm, "you stole my world. Now, I'll steal your worship."
Lightning answered — a column of white fire striking the Cathedral's top.
In that light, for just an instant, Elyon's voice returned.
> [Creator Signature confirmed. Initiating Purge Protocol.]
Azel laughed softly. "Try."
---
The sky tore open.
Bolts rained down, but every strike froze midair, suspended in golden stasis.
Azel's aura expanded, pushing through the city like a heartbeat — ancient code rewriting itself into reality.
> [Warning: Power surge detected. Mortal vessel instability: 87%.]
He pressed a hand to his chest. The pain was sharp, real — the price of mortality.
But his smile didn't fade. "Even imperfect flesh can house divinity, if the will is strong enough."
He raised his hand.
The frozen lightning shattered into dust.
> [Achievement Unlocked: Defy Divine Protocol.]
[Reward: Skill – "System Override."]
"Override," he murmured. "Yes, I think I'll enjoy this."
---
Below, Shade watched in silent awe as the city lights flickered, every digital prayer interrupted by a single new command written into the code of existence:
> [HE RETURNS.]
And from the Cathedral's core, Elyon's cold voice echoed through the network.
> "So be it. The Creator wants war? Then let creation burn."
Azel's eyes gleamed.
"That," he said, "was always the plan."