Mandla woke up after only a few hours of sleep. He was tired, but it was time to get up. Last night had been like watching a play—amazing yet upsetting. He wondered what Sizwe's end goal was. Perhaps he had truly converted to the Eternal Remnant. That would be better than lying, but as much as he wanted to believe it, he knew he would be naive to do so. Sizwe was a ruthless man who would do whatever it took to achieve his goals. Mandla wondered what stunt he would pull this time. Trouble followed Sizwe wherever he went, but Mandla had to admit he enjoyed hanging out with him. He had learned a lot from him.
From the way Sizwe described it, the old world was like heaven on earth. This created a conflict within Mandla because he believed in the Codex, but Sizwe, who had lived in that world, painted it so beautifully. Granted, Sizwe had also told him about all the bad things, but somehow, that world seemed like it had reached the peak of greatness.
They had a technology called the internet that everyone had access to. People could talk to their families even if they were far away. Strangers could share their experiences, cultures, and interests, and they could instantly become friends.
Thinking about this, Mandla couldn't help but look north, where his mother and sister was. His sister would have loved such a thing. His heart ached, thinking of how the church kept the technology for themselves. He wondered how his sister was doing. If they had that technology, they would be able to get a relic of communication.
Mandla knew he had to make a choice. Perhaps he had already made it but was just in denial.
---
The news about the Acolyte who had defeated three assassins from The Defiant was spreading. It turned out to be the same Acolyte who had been preaching the Codex and bringing the masses to the Church. He was more than just a sweet talker; it seemed he would be promoted soon too.
Mandisa absorbed this information and was surprised. It was an amazing feat for an Acolyte to survive trained assassins.
"This Acolyte killed three of them alone? Who the hell is he?"
Although The Freehold didn't agree with most of The Defiant's methods, they shared a revolutionary spirit. She understood why The Defiant would target this Acolyte. He was dangerous to their cause, and if left alive, he would make the revolution harder. They already had problems with some of the strong members of the Citadel, and they couldn't allow other problematic members to rise.
Mandisa wasn't foolish enough to try to kill this Acolyte yet. It wasn't her mission, but she would at least try to meet this man. She would monitor him for now, until the Brown-Eyed Demon was found.
---
Sizwe entered the dark, cluttered room and was immediately hit by a familiar smell—gunpowder. The scent tugged at him, dragging his thoughts back to a time when he wasn't constantly on the run, hiding from the Citadel. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he surveyed the room, recognizing a few relics of old technology scattered among the chaotic assemblage of parts and half-finished devices.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing in the dimly lit space.
A figure emerged from behind a stack of metallic components. Tall and gaunt, the man had wild eyes that darted around, as if he were constantly calculating something. His hands were smudged with grease, and he wore a tattered lab coat. This was Cyprian, one of the Citadel's most eccentric Technomancers.Technomancers are specialized clergy who focus on the integration of ancient technology with religious practice. They serve as both spiritual leaders and technical experts.
"Ah, what do we have here?" Cyprian's voice was sing-song, his tone eerily playful. "A visitor! I don't get many of those down here. What brings you to my humble workshop?"
Sizwe forced a smile, trying to ignore the unsettling vibe Cyprian gave off. "I've heard a lot about you, Cyprian. They say you're the best when it comes to restoring old tech. I've got a proposition for you."
Cyprian's eyes widened with curiosity, and he leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what sort of proposition might that be? Speak, speak! I don't have all day. Well, actually, I do, but let's hear it anyway."
Sizwe took a deep breath. "I'm looking for someone with your skills to join me. I have knowledge of old technology—things you've never seen, things that could revolutionize your work here. I want you to help me restore and reverse-engineer these artifacts. In return, you'll get access to tech that even the Citadel hasn't laid its hands on."
Cyprian's face lit up, a manic grin spreading across his features. "New tech, you say? Intriguing, very intriguing! And how, may I ask, do you propose to deliver on such a grand promise?"
Reaching into his satchel, Sizwe pulled out a small, intricately designed device. "This is just a taste," he said, holding it up. "An old-world energy cell. I know how to make it work again, this was used to power my cryogenicpod for 100 years. With your skills and my knowledge, we could do wonders."
Cyprian's eyes gleamed with a feverish excitement as he reached for the device. "A genuine energy cell? Remarkable! You truly are full of surprises. But tell me, why should I abandon the Citadel for this little adventure of yours?"
Sizwe's expression grew serious. "You didn't join the Citadel out of loyalty to the Codex. You joined because you wanted to push the boundaries of technology, to create and explore without constraints. They limit you here. But with me, you'll have no such limits. Imagine the inventions we could create, the power we could harness."
Cyprian's fingers twitched as he held the energy cell, his mind racing with the possibilities. The Citadel had always held him back, tethering his creativity with their rules and restrictions. This was a chance to break free, to dive into the unknown.
"Well, well, well," Cyprian finally said, his voice low and filled with glee. "You've certainly caught my interest. I'll help you. But remember, my loyalty is to the tech, not to you. If you can deliver on your promise, I'll stay. If not, well, I have no qualms about finding my own way to these secrets."
Sizwe nodded, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Fair enough. Let's make history together, Cyprian."
The two men shook hands, sealing their uneasy alliance in the dark, cluttered room. The game had just begun, and Sizwe knew that with Cyprian's help, the scales could tip in his favor against the Citadel.
---
Sizwe sat on his bed, waiting for whatever might come. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that Cyprian wouldn't rat him out; he wasn't naive. He hoped Cyprian would stay true to their deal. This was a new world, and old-world common sense wouldn't work here. Sizwe knew how to create many things, but he didn't have the tools he was used to. Most things in the 21st century were digitized and AI-based, so replicating the work of machines and AI with his hands was very difficult in this world that didn't even have ice cream.
The thought of no ice cream bummed him out, but he wasn't going to let that distract him from his goals. He needed Cyprian to do the heavy lifting while he handled the designs. Moreover, the church was his cash cow. He needed better weapons to survive this world, littered with death at every corner. He wanted to leave the church as soon as possible, but he had to stay a little longer, gather what he needed, and then be on his way. At least he would be better equipped to survive many things in this world. He thought about leaving the church's territory and going to a neighboring kingdom called Edenvale, but now was not the time.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He grabbed his loaded gun and hid it, just in case Cyprian had sent someone for him.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," Mandla replied from behind the door.
"Come on in," Sizwe said, ready for anything. He had trust issues.
Mandla entered, alone. Sizwe relaxed a little.
"What's up, my underling?" Sizwe taunted him.
"I am not your—" Mandla stopped himself, knowing Sizwe was just messing with him.
"I've decided."
"Oh?" Sizwe had no idea what he was talking about but decided to listen.
"I will follow you from now on and learn your ways. I want to learn how to fight, and I want to learn about the old knowledge."
Sizwe finally understood what Mandla meant. He knew Mandla had been struggling with his morality. He had seen the church as absolute good, but there was no such thing in this world. Now he had finally decided to walk the dark side.
A grin spread across Sizwe's face. His team was coming together. Things were getting interesting.