You're crouched behind a shattered wall, the air thick with smoke and the copper tang of blood. The Zeus temple's golden dome looms ahead, its mosaics of a dark-haired man-Elias Varkis, self-proclaimed New Christ-glinting under a fractured moon. You're nobody, just a scavenger named Amal, scraping by in a city gutted by Thanatos-19. Your sister's dying, her lungs rotting, and the whispers say this temple's manna communion can save her. Cure the plague, cancer, even hearts choked by plaque. But the cost? Worship. You've never knelt to any god, and you're not starting now.
The temple pulses with life. Inside, believers chant, "Zeus saves " their voices a fevered hymn. A priestess, robed in gold, raises a chalice, spooning shimmering wine into desperate mouths. A man, skeletal from disease, drinks and stands, his cough gone, eyes alight. You blink, heart racing-is it real? The crowd roars, but you notice the priestess's hand tremble, her gaze darting to the shadows. Something's wrong.