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The Demonic God Rises

🇦🇶CzarBomba
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Synopsis
Imagine a world of fantasy. Magic, witches, knights, elves, demons - all that. Fast forward several hundred years. Technology comes rushing in. Yank the magic away. Instead of wands, now you've got guns. Now add a few global wars and a cataclysmic event that puts a post-apocalyptic filter on everything. Now you've got the world of this novel. A harsh cyberpunk environment where remnants of fantasy like elves and orcs try to get by not with spells and bows, but with bullets and mechs. Now take this new world and dunk it in the old again. That's where Kai comes in: a member of the Daemon race who comes across a relic that brings him back in touch with the gods and magic that the world has forgotten. With it, can he change this hopeless future for the better? Update Schedule: 1 per day
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Chapter 1 - Scrapping for God

Some people say silence is a fickle little thing. Sometimes, it can be scary. Tense. Other times, it can be comforting. Solemn. But really, silence is just that: silence. It's what you make out of it that puts you on edge or at ease.

And right now, Kai felt silence cloying thick in the air like fog. A fog that raised the hairs on his neck, made his heart skip a few beats here and then, made his cocky, toothy old smile a little hard to put up.

He looked across a corrugated sheet of metal bolted onto a pole – what passed for a table in his den – and met many pairs of eyes. Very different too, all of them. One was squinty, hard to make out the green pupils beneath, let alone what those eyes were ever thinking at any point in time.

Another was, how to put it, shapely? Two splotches of hazel shadowed under long lashes and underlined with thin but expressive brows. And the last was old, rimmed with wrinkles, crows feet, and clouded with a milky whiteness.

But Kai could tell that each and every one of those eyes were glaring at him. He smiled.

"Get your feet off the damn table," said hazel eyes, her pointy ears pressing back as her glare deepened.

Kai shrugged and slid his feet off the table, his metal soles scraping out an unpleasant melody. He blinked and resisted the urge to yawn. The room was dark – lit only with a single rag tag overhead light – and it was warm, underground and cozy: the perfect mix to make him feel sleepy. But he couldn't nod off when he had to defend himself.

"You elves are so stuck up," said Kai.

"Not just elves," said the old man. He eased back into his chair, tugging at a long, pointy beard of white. "I'm quite disappointed, too."

Kai shrugged. "You too, pops? What about you, Grunt? You got my back, right?"

Squinty eyes grunted and said nothing. However, his hard, angry stare said enough.

"You're an orc, not a mute," said Kai. "Help me out, man."

The orc kept up his glare. Kai didn't press the matter. He didn't like staring into that glare, anyway. Was a lot more intimidating when it came from two hundred and fifty pounds of raw muscle.

Kai raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, I fucked up."

"As long as you acknowledge it," said pops.

"Pops, you nuts?" said the elf. "He had one job: to get a generator. And now it looks like we won't be running on any electricity for atleast a week."

Kai slapped the table gently. The elf turned to him, a scowl etched into her lips.

"Hey now, you think generators just grow on trees?" said Kai.

"Trees? What are those?" The elf pointed at Kai with understanding. "I get it now. You were trying to find more of those books, huh?"

Kai sighed. "Yeah, I was, okay? But come on, you have to understand. The books are so interesting. Like, just think about it, we don't even know what a tree looks like, but shit, apparently they used to be all over the place."

"Yeah, get the hell out of here with your make-belief." The elf exhaled through her teeth. "Reading about trees won't bring us parts to trade for food and it won't keep the lights up and the water running."

Kai flinched and felt the little book in his pocket nudge against him. He valued that over any rusted piece of junk he could find out in the fields.

"Well, fuck you too."

The elf scoffed at him. "Grow up, dude. Ignore the trees and the oceans and the whatever the hell trash you've been reading and find some real junk. It's what keeps us alive. You can find work pretty much anywhere in the Isles cause you're a Daemon, but we aren't as strong, or in Grunt's case, not as smart."

Kai flitted his eyes away from the elf's sharp stare. "Whatever."

The elf huffed in impatience and opened her mouth again, but the old man stopped her by raising his gnarled hand in the air.

"That's enough," said the old man. "The sun is setting: it is no time for bickering. You all must sleep early to be productive tomorrow. And besides, the Screws have predicted another scrapwhirl tonight, so Kai can't go out and use his night vision to search for parts."

Grunt nodded. "Then we sleep?"

The old man nodded. "That's right, Grunt, we sleep. Leeva, go back to your quarters too."

The elf shook her head with pursed lips, but turned around and walked away with long, angry strides, her boots echoing out a harsh staccato on the rocky floor. Kai watched her until she reached the end of the room where she disappeared into a narrow passageway in the stone.

Kai slumped his shoulders in relief. Leeva was always a little difficult to deal with. He noticed Grunt shambling to another side of the room and into a passageway that fit his massive brawn.

"Well, if that's all," said Kai, standing up from his rust-crusted chair.

"No," said pops, pointing his finger down to the table. "You stay."

Kai rolled his eyes and plopped back down on his seat. The rackety old thing complained with a groaning creak, but it held his weight up alright.

"Pops, we really gotta do this?"

The old man drew in his chair closer until Kai could see him clearly under the flickering overhead light. He didn't like looking at pops. Didn't like the wrinkles, the lack of hair, the skin splotched with dark spots and canvassed with wrinkles. Most of all, he didn't like the eyes – the cloudy beads so murky he couldn't make out anything beneath them.

Pops reminded Kai of how helpless you could get in his tooth-and-nail world, and he didn't like it one bit. He hated feeling weak, feeling helpless.

"Pops, I know I fucked up, okay?" said Kai. He liked to talk back to Leeva, felt like she deserved it, but pops had put up with enough shit in his life. "Tomorrow, if the scrapwhirl settles down, I'll find a generator, alright? I promise."

The old man smiled and revealed an array of yellowed teeth in various states of chipping and disrepair.

"It's not that," said pops. "You've done more than enough, and you know it. Grunt doesn't know what parts to pick out from the trash piles in the fields, and Leeva can't handle the air for long. You're the one keeping us together."

"Oh, come on, it's not like that," said Kai sheepishly. He ran a finger across one of his horns – a little tick he had that came up whenever he got nervous or embarrassed. "You brought me in after my parents died, brought us all in after life dealt us shitty hands. We're family, and you said that nobody in a family is more important than another, right?"

"Yes, I did say that." Pops nodded. "I am surprised you remember that. You were a wee little thing when I told you that."

"Course' I'd remember. I take what you say to heart."

"I do remember telling you to get us that generator today, though. Did that not get to your heart?"

"Pops, don't kick a man while he's down."

The old man laughed, and Kai smiled.

"I didn't keep you here to scold you," said the old man. He cupped his worn hands together and laid them on the table. "I wanted to give you something."

Kai leaned forwards a little. "Really? Another book?"

"Maybe. But before that, I want to ask you some questions."

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Have you wondered why your books still exist?"

"Huh?" Kai reached into his pocket and fished out his book. He set it down on the table. The book was a leathery bundle of pages with 'The Saga of Siegrun' typed out on the cover with inky blackness. "I mean, they're old, but I thought they just…lasted, you know? Like the random parts and junk that shift around in the fields."

The old man reached forwards and ran his fingers through the book, feeling it with a meticulous inspection that only a blind man could put up.

"Paper and leather do not last like metal. You do not understand as you have never seen regular paper before, but I assure you that normal books would not have survived the hundreds of years this book has soon."

Kai raised a brow. "So you're telling me these books are special?"

"Very. Tell me, Kai, what is magic to you?"

Kai thought about the many books he had found and read over the years. Tales of dragons and knights and sorcerers and witches. He sat at the edge of his seat, feeling that pops would lay out some insane revelation to him that he was some kind of sorcerer.

"Something that basically just lets you do anything," answered Kai after some deliberation.

"I suppose that's accurate." The old man shrugged. "I have no idea, to be honest."

Kai slunk back into his seat. "Pops, were you just teasing me?"

"No, nothing of the sort."

The old man's serious expression made Kai sit up straight despite the fact that pops couldn't even see him.

"I am old, but not so old I remember a time before our lives today where we scavenge for survival atop islands of trash. Certainly not old enough to remember the time that these books speak of. I have not known swords and spears, but I have felt the sting of a blaster and the punch of a rifle bullet."

Kai glanced at the old man's bare arms, at the patches of discolored skin and long-healed wounds that gouged out decades of history.

The old man continued, "But though I have not seen anything in these books, I still believe in magic. I feel that it is real."

"Pops, if magic was real, the city government would have used it to wipe us all out by now."

"That is true, and yet there is something within me that believes." The old man reached upwards, skinny fingers splayed outwards as if trying to grab something. "It is like…instinct. Like how elves feel free when they are far up in the air. Something in my blood, it beckons to me. Tells me that magic is real, that I have a duty to it."

"A duty?"

"Yes. I do not know if it is because the years have worn away my faculties, but lately I have been hearing voices that beckon me."

"Uh, okay pops." Kai got ready to ease the old man into his bed. Seems like old age really did do a number on the mind. Some sleep would do his old brain some good. But for now, Kai played along. "What do the voices say?"

"They do not say anything I can make out. They are whispers, and when I try to listen, I cannot understand their tongues, and yet, I can feel what they wish from me. It was just yesterday, in fact, when I finally understood their message."

Kai walked over to the old man and slung an arm across his shoulder, readying to carry him. "And what do they want?"

"For me to go and uphold my duty." The old man pushed Kai's arm away. "I am fine. Have you ever wondered about my blindness? I know this sounds random, but bear with me. It is relevant."

Kai could clearly remember the day that pops went blind. It had happened in an instant, overnight, almost. Nothing like the slow blur that other old people that weren't elves faced, where they had months or maybe even years to appreciate the loss of a sense they'd enjoyed since birth.

Pops had slept one day and woken up to darkness. At first, pops had even thought he was sleep walking, stepping through the dark no matter where he went. But when he bumped into the rock walls of his room – broken a nose, even – he knew he'd kissed his vision goodbye with a dream.

"Sorta"

Pops blinked. "It's hereditary, apparently. My father had blindness. My grandfather, too. When they caught it, they died soon after, mumbling of angry voices in their heads."

A knot swelled up in Kai's throat. "You mean…you think you're done?"

Pops sighed. "Yes."

Kai reached out and grabbed pop's hand. It felt soft and mushy, that weak human flesh all battered up by age and wear and tear, and he felt like even a breeze would send pops crumbling, falling into the same sickening dust that powdered the surface world with black.

But then what'd remain of the rest of the gang? Kai was fine, he could live on his own, scavenging for parts or working as hired muscle, but Grunt didn't have the brains to stop others from exploiting him and Leeva's lung sickness prevented her from doing anything short of selling herself.

"That's a shitty way to give up pops, and you're the one who preached about sticking through life even when it kicks you down." Kai squeezed the old man's hand gently. "You know, I hear a real Doc is coming through the area in a few days. A Straggler from the cities. Heard the crazy bastard even managed to sneak in some state-of-the-art medical tech under the city's security. I'm pretty sure he could patch you up real good."

"Nothing of that sort." Pops waved away the suggestion. "No, no. That's all useless. I hate city folk anyway. Wouldn't let them within ten feet of me, let alone inside me with their devices."

"But pops, you're literally going to die. At least try to hold on for us."

"Kai, you'll be eighteen soon. A full adult. Past being an adult, really, in this harsh old world."

"Yeah?" Kai heard his voice rising, but he couldn't stop it. "What about Grunt? The cities make his kind slave away in manual labor, but you think us Scrappers are any better? In some ways, we're a lot fucking worse. You're the one who saved Grunt from the fighting pits. And Leeva? Weren't you the one that decided to steal her away from being a slave? Come on, pops, once you decided to take us in, you took responsibility for us. It's your damn duty to stay alive as long as you can."

The old man chuckled, and it made Kai annoyed.

"Pops, you think this is funny?"

"It's not that." The old man took in a breath. "You're right," he exhaled. "I rather sidetracked myself quite badly. Of course I'll hang on as long as I can. The blindness isn't going to do me in anytime soon – took a few years for it to put out my father as well. What I was meant to say was that I think the voices have their roots in magic – how else could these same voices plague me, my father, and my grandfather before him? Seems like too much of a coincidence otherwise."

"Pops, just because you don't accept city tech doesn't mean that anything you can't explain is magic."

"Come now, I'm no caveman. My great grandfather worked in the cities as an engineer. When he was forced out, he passed his knowledge down to my father, and my father did the same with me. How else do you think I managed to build up this underground haven? And have you already forgotten who taught you what parts were valuable in the scrap fields?"

Kai slumped back in defeat, his hands loosening from the old man's. "Alright, alright. I'm convinced that you're still sane, pops, so please enlighten me: how do you think these voices are magical?"

"I don't know, but the first step to unraveling a mystery is to experiment, no?"

"An experiment? What kind?"

"Tomorrow, you will go to the fields again." The old man jutted a finger upwards, towards the rocky ceiling embedded with a few metallic trinkets here and there. "The voices beckon me to go to a particular spot in the trash heaps. Near the top of the highest mountain, and for that, you should take Leeva with you as a guide, for she knows the peaks well."

Kai nodded slowly. "Okay, but let's make a deal. What do the voices say we'll find up there? If I don't find anything, you're going with me to the new Doc to get your head checked, no questions asked, alright?"

The old man nodded and grinned. "A deal, is it? Then I have the right to lay out my own terms. If you find it up there, then take it. The voices promise me they'll stop if someone takes it."

"It? You got an idea of what 'it' is?"

Pops leaned back in his chair and looked up at nothing.

"A god."