The crew strode along the rust-stained steel corridors of the Outskirts. Their footfalls rang back through the darkness. There were no glittering glass-paneled towers like those in the core of Neo-ilka. This place was a tangled mess of crumbling factories and ancient machinery, leftovers from when the city was built up from scratch with hands and iron. Somewhere in this tangled mesh of metal and rust lay their destination: the secret forge of a man called Daed, the last direct descendant from Hephaestus himself.
All eyes sharp, Zypher led the way. Daed was no ordinary expert in engineering; he was a myth murmured about in circuits and spoken of in reverence by only those who'd really seen it with their own eyes. Each of his creations was an amalgamation of human ingenuity and divine heritage. No one could possibly be able to help them with the missing components for the weapon unless it was him.
As they continued on, a soft luminescence suddenly materialized before them, lighting up an oversized set of steel doors. Zypher stretched out his hand to stop the rest. Total silence had fallen except for the slow, rhythmic vibration coming from beyond the doors—a heartbeat of machinery steady and strong.
Orion shifted, eyes narrowed. "This guy's Hephaestus' descendant, huh? Let's hope he's not as. temperamental as the god himself.".
Zypher smirked. "Let's hope he's got his talent, at least. The blueprint for the weapon needs expertise only a god's touch could provide.".
and Lila pushed through heavy doors into a cavernous room. Nothing they could have anticipated could have prepared them for what faced them. Sparks of molten metal arced through the air, casting their shadows on walls lined with towering forges and strange half-finished creations. Massive mechanical arms moved with a precision only a master craftsman could enthrone cold machinery in, each one bending and shaping red-hot metal.
Standing in the middle of the workshop was a broad-shouldered man, half-hidden behind his metal visor that hid the upper part of his face. In one gloved hand he clutched an unyielding welding torch, while across his arms chased intricate swirling tattoos. This divine legacy in his veins glowed through every one of those etchings, and he himself did not even raise his head when they approached to concentrate intently on a piece of shone with an otherworldly hue.
Finally, without so much as lifting his gaze upward, he spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "You've got five seconds to tell me what you want before I decide if you're worth the oxygen."
Zypher stepped forward. "We're looking for Daed-the one they call Hephaestus' child."
He pushed up his visor, and light showed on sharp, dark eyes and a face that had seen its share of flame and steel. He looked Zypher up and down, his expression not even flickering. "Daed's dead," he said. "Or at least, that's what I tell everybody who comes sniffing around for favors."
"That's good," Zypher said, unblinking. "That means you're free to help us without worrying about being found.".
The man's eyes narrowed, a flicker of curiosity breaking through the rest of his guarded demeanor. "Who are you, kid?"
"Name's Zypher Nyx. And I've got something you might want to see." Zypher produced the blueprint, carefully unfolding the ancient parchment and holding it out.
Daed's eyes expanded as he took in the details. The blueprint was intricate, complex—a design for a weapon that could tap into the very essence of the gods. His fingers twitched, itching to trace the lines, to feel the craftsmanship embedded in every detail.
"Where did you get this?" Daed's voice was low, almost reverent.
Someone walked in here, expecting the gods to want their power back someday," Zypher said. "And we need it, Daed. We need it to bring down the corporations and monsters that are tearing this city apart."
Daed looked at him, a hard glint in his eye. "And you think you're worthy of wielding something this powerful?
Zypher met his gaze. "It's for us to prove. But we are willing to do whatever it takes.".
Daed was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded his head and turned toward his workshop, beckoning them to come in. As they penetrated deeper into the forge, they saw arms and armor crafted with a precision that almost bordered on the divine. There were blades forged from metals that shimmered in shades unknown to human eyes, shields that pulsed with faint protective energy and devices so complex their purposes were inscrutable.
He stepped back away from the enormous workbench, lifting something that seemed to glow faintly-it was a piece of golden metal. "This alloy," he whispered, "is the last known trace of Celestial Bronze. It's virtually extinct, and only a handful of us know how to work with it." He looked at Zypher. "You bring me the other components and I'll forge this weapon. But there's a price."
Zypher had no hesitation. "Name it."
"Your loyalty. I don't give my work to those who won't honor its power." His gaze flicked to the rest of the team. "And you'll need to be prepared for what this weapon demands. There's a reason the gods haven't wielded their full power in centuries."
The team shared a glance, but Zypher's face didn't shift. "We're in.".
Daed nodded, looking almost pleased. He began to gather strewn materials from the workshop. His movements fluid and practiced, the hum of machinery and a warm glow from the forges filled the air.
As Daed worked, he spoke, his voice thoughtful. "Hephaestus was a creator, but he was also a curse-bearer. His gifts came at a cost, as did mine.
The weapon you seek will carry that burden too—a price that only the worthy can bear."
"Then we'll bear it," Zypher said.
Orion grinned. "A little curse never scared us. We've got our own already."
Kiera watched Daed as he worked, seemingly entranced by the expert movements. She leaned in closer, studying the weapons scattered all over the workshop. "This place… it's incredible. You could arm an entire rebellion with this kind of firepower."
Daed's mouth twisted into a faint smirk. "Maybe one day I will. But for now, we're focused on you.".
Hours slid by as Daed instructed Zypher in the procedures-teaching him properties of Celestial Bronze, wires involved in the complex wiring for the weapon core, and codes needed in order to bind the weapon to its wielder. It was a crash course on divine engineering-a kind of mastery that no textbook could teach.
Finally, Daed stepped back, his face written in lines of satisfaction as he studied the nearly completed weapon. "This is just the beginning. With this weapon, you'll be able to make quakes in Neo-ilka. But don't forget-it'll want something from you in return.".
Zypher gripped the weapon, felt its weight, its potential thrumming beneath his fingertips. This was not just a tool, but a promise, a bond to legacy, gods, and fight ahead.
He turned to Daed, and new depth showed in his eyes. "Thanks.".
Daed grunted, waving him off. "You want to thank me? Save it. And remember—power's got a way of showing who you really are. Make sure you're ready for that.".
The team moved out of the forge, weapon customarily strapped to Zypher's back. Outside, the lights of Neo-ilka blinked in the distance, painting over the Outskirts with vague light. But all felt different now - stronger than technology alone. He bore within him a divine power-a weight that would make him question everything he thought he knew.
And as they walked into the night, they all felt the weight of the path that they'd chosen. Neo-ilka was on the cusp of something monstrous, and with the power of Hephaestus in their hands, they were ready to tip it into a new dawn—or plunge it into darkness.
The air was thick with anticipation, and the neon metropolis of Neo-ilka rose behind them like some silent judgment. Pictures in his head were buzzing over the image of Daed's forge—how that force wrapped in the strap on his back hummed quietly, more alive to his senses than any machine of his experience. As they walked, each of them absorbed the weight of their mission: with the divine weapon, they had power beyond their wildest dreams, but also responsibility far greater than any of them had anticipated.