“The old puritan tribes claimed that mankind build and ruled the world, once." Lejis turned his gaze to the audience, making sure they were all watching. "I have come before you today, to tell you that this is neither myth, nor rumor - it was true. Humanity was above all. Now, look around you, brothers and sisters. Who are we now?”

His hands turned to a Reacher leaning on the side of a wall, pointing like an accusation. “Shadows! Pecking away at the bones of giants rather than standing on their shoulders.” The reacher bristled, eyebrows narrowing.

The priest's hand then shot out and pointed at one of his own Chosen. “Dredges. Paralyzed by the weight of the world.” Then up and away, as if pointing past the walls of the clan. “Thieves and vultures, unable to create when taking is so much easier.”

Finally, he kneeled down, then pointed underground. “Small petty tyrants, ruling over tiny anthills in their leftover ruins. What became of us? We ruled the world once. Now, we freeze among the ashes of it. Not yet dead, not yet living. Just... surviving." He hissed that word out, real hatred and wrath behind it.

“At the heart of the world, miles under, I was offered a vision. Here, a god spoke to me. She granted me access to knowledge. History as the machines have recorded it. I’ve come to share that knowledge with the world. To remind humanity that we were once powerful - and we can be again, in our own way. But we must sever the ties of our past to rise above it.”

His eyes flashed purple for a moment, but I genuinely couldn’t tell if I’d been seeing something or not. “Does anyone here know why machines hunt humans?”

There were mutterings, but nobody raised a hand. So the priest turned and picked someone at random. “You there, with the red scarf. Do you know why they hate us so?”

The woman looked around for a moment, trying to see if he’d pointed out anyone else, and when the surrounding crowd parted around her she realized she had to give an answer. “‘Cause they hate us?” She shrugged. “They always been killin’ humans since the dawn of the age. Just how the world is.”

The priest quirked his head to the side. “That so?” Then he swept his gaze and met my own. “And you, sir knight. You’ve fought the machines before have you?”

Ahh, this motherfucker. Dragging me into it. Fine. Suppose since I’m a knight, I would stand out a bit. “I have some experience, yes.” I said diplomatically.

“Do you, after having fought them hand to hand, do you know why they kill humans?”

“They’re machines.” I said. “They’ve been programmed to kill us.”

“Exactly!” He waggled his finger at me excitedly. “That’s exactly it. When we humans fight one another, there has always been a reason for it. We hate them. We want their money. They want to hurt us. They looked at us funny. It doesn’t matter - always a reason. We invent it. That's what humans do, that's what humanity does.”

He turned back to the crowd, sweeping his hands out. “Machines aren’t humans. They don’t hate us. They don’t want our money. They’re not scared we’ll hurt them. They don’t care if we looked at them funny. The puritans had it right, machines are tools. We’ve spent so much time fearing them, we’ve started to believe the machines are behind all of our suffering. That’s what the puritans got wrong. The greatest irony in the world. The cosmic joke played on humanity. A truth I discovered at the heart of the world, from that gift granted by a god.”

“I promised you all I would tell you the tale of what truly happened to the world. Seven thousand years ago, humanity did rule the world - and they hated each other." He pointed a hand out, searching far past the clan. "Like the slavers hate your kind, and how you hate them. Our ancestors brought the earth to ruin, brought suffering and terror, took whatever they wanted and gave nothing back. Where some won, others lost. And soon, those that lost decided that if they had to lose - then everyone else would lose with them. Thus, humanity created the pale lady. The machines. And thus our own ancestors gave that order we have to deal with to this day. To kill humanity. The puritans would have you believe that humanity was all that was good and machines were all that is evil and corrupt. It's the other way around. Machines aren't anything - neither good nor evil. They simply are. It was our ancestors who burdened them with this terrible purpose. The real enemy we fight aren’t machines, it’s ghosts. Ghosts who’s graves have rotted away so long ago nobody even knows where they lay or who they were. We’ve been dragged into a war we never asked for! A tombstone to their arrogance.”

Mutterings grew around the camp. People were now paying attention.

"Why should we suffer for people who’ve long ago faded away? For stupid ignorant people who couldn't even consider who might come after them. What have we done to deserve any of this?!” He turned to me again, seeking me out, one accusing finger pointed my way. “Tell me sir knight. Would you want to fight in a war for people you’ve never heard of, who died so long ago?”

I knew I was playing in his hand here, but you can’t exactly answer yes to that sort of question. So instead of answering, I rebutted with a question of my own. “Would you choose to protest living because nobody asked you if you wanted to be born or not?”

The crowd turned back to the priest, and he smiled at me. The sort of cheeky smile you’d give to someone who’s not playing by the rules. “I like living.” He said. “I’m very fond of it. Problem is that it comes with very expensive hobbies, like eating and having a warm place to sleep.”

I gave him a wry smile at that, though Journey’s helmet stopped him from seeing it. I think he still noticed anyhow.

He brought a hand and pointed to his eyes. They flashed purple for a moment again, before turning back to their dull colors. This time I was sure that wasn’t a hallucination on my part.

“I was blind once, you know, sir knight. A festering wound. Not made by a machine. No, no. A machine would have simply killed me. Mankind however? Now there’s someone who’s capable of any cruelty. I was left for dead on the street, teeth missing, bones broken, eyes gouged out, and all my wealth stolen, what little of it I had. Life was difficult for a cripple like myself, and I found no justice nor anyone willing to put their necks out in search for it. Eventually, the undersiders cast me out as an undesirable. Cast outside their walls. What we found there were the machines.”

A few of the Chosen sitting on crates to the walls of the courtyard all nodded at that. He inclined a head to one of his people. One of the undersider relic knights hung by his side, arms folded across his chest as he scanned across the assembled people. “Captain.” Lejis said, “What did those machines do to us?”

The captain seemed startled at being picked out, but he recovered quickly enough. “Well, they attacked us.” He said with a scratchy voice. “Cut us apart bit by bit, you know - like a pipe weasel playing with a rat before the kill. I had some knights that defected with me, but we all knew it was only a matter of time until we’d be gutted.”

“And then what happened?”

“A miracle happened, suppose." He shrugged. "Some man-looking machine stopped our caravan. He offered us a choice. Join up or croak.”

Lejis chuckled, patting his chest. “As you can all see, we picked the first. The lady gave us an ultimatum - take upon ourselves to become part machine, and the machines will no longer see us as true humans. Thus, we are no longer enemies. I had no eyes, and she gave me new ones. I had broken bones and she forged those into pillars that never break. I was sickly, and she cured me of diseases. I had no knowledge of the world, and she gave me all the knowledge I could seek out. This is where I discovered our true history, and the debts of our forefathers that we inadvertently inherited.

The pale lady was ordered to destroy humanity by humanity, and set to doing just that. She found power. Small stars lit up the earth. The internet was brought to heel. Technology and any caches of it were raided and put to the blade by her growing army. In a matter of hours, humanity was brought down. But not yet eliminated. I’ll give humanity one thing - we’re hard bastards to kill! Seven thousand years, a legion of machines, a broken world beyond repair - and still we're here.”

He played the crowd well, I’ll hand him that.

“Your goddess Tsuya rose from that era, and fought back. Seven thousand years, day after day." There was a knowing smile playing on his lips. "They’re tired of it. The gods grew old. The pale lady wants it all to stop and so do your own gods. The centuries have ground them all down into husks of who they were. But she is a machine, and she’d been ordered to kill humanity, no matter how much she doesn’t care to do so anymore. No matter how tired she feels, the great machine is a slave that's unable to free herself from those shackles. The machines aren't our enemy. They're victims. And this war can come to an end the moment we renounce our hateful ancestors, that we denounce dead men's claims to our souls. That we turn to the machines and tell them - I have seen the ghosts that chained you and I am not them.”

A voice in the back spoke up, clapping slowly, growing in pitch as the man moved closer. “A very moving speech, lad. I can see you’re a genuine believer at least. However, I find your solution to be… unrealistic. Give up some organs to become cyborgs rather than humans? Seems like a very simple answer to a complicated issue. Simple issues makes me cautious. Like you said, World's very old. All the simple answers would have been used up already.”

Three knights stalked forward through the corridor, the one at point was recognizable right away. The clan lord had come down. I’d been early but not that early looks like. He passed by me, giving a quick glance that ordered me to follow behind. I took pace lockstep with the other knights, approaching the Chosen priest.

Lejis turned to the clan lord as the crowd parted to give him way. “Sometimes simpler answers are both welcome and needed, sometimes things change over time and solutions that wouldn't have worked in the past are welcome in the present. The world is large enough for that to happen.”

“Giving up your humanity seems more like a choice offered in a book by a devil, shortly before they’re cursed into damnation. One would feel hesitant.”

“Oh I agree, but life isn’t a book now is it? I remain who I am even with metal eyes. What I gave up was only a label. A word that comes with unwelcome history and debt, saddled by people I never knew.”

"All labels come with their history and debt, are you so certain this new label you put your banner under is any better?”

“We Chosen are in a position unlike any in humanity’s past. By giving up the claim to humanity, by severing what tied me down, I opened up the way to a new future.”

Atius spread his arms to point at the Chosen dregs. “You came to me half-starved, weakened from weeks of travel, slowly dying on the surface. This future of yours doesn’t quite look as utopic as you describe it to me. Something's not quite right here.”

Lejis frowned. “The future is what we make it. The machines don’t hunt us down, but they are not responsible for us either. Don’t misinterpret the Chosen for the actions of one priest. That my flock is in the situation it is under is my personal failings in preparations. Not a representation of the Chosen at large. I don’t think I can understate how much being free to move anywhere underground can be. It changes everything. The Chosen wield more power and freedom than any human has in centuries. We’re even building a city to rival all cities ever built.” He turned to the other people assembled. “Without the machines breathing down our throats, we are free to create and expand as we wish so long as we don’t disturb the machines. Anyone can move and live underground freely without worry. Without that heavy weight, we can even begin to heal the world!”

Atius tutted at that. “You’ve made some assumptions on the machines. If the world could be fixed, why haven’t the machines done it themselves so far? Why are you being sent out as caravanners instead of being given time to settle roots? To me it seems more like you’re being used as tools yourself. Stretched to the limits and discarded right after you break. Is this city of yours even real? Have you seen it? Or are you being played, turned on your fellow humans with empty promises, only waiting for an execution at the end of your service? This city of yours sounds like an equally great way to funnel people and pack them all into a kill zone. You know that is a possibility. You say it only took a bit of metal in your body to be considered non-human. I am a Deathless, with unending life and even my blood has a darker color than normal - and yet the machines fully consider me and my kind human. What exactly is this fickle criteria based on?”

The Chosen captain growled and stepped forward for a moment, his other bodyguards also stepping forward with him. “Machines have been nothin’ but accommodating despite our history. And ain’t it common sense to give our priest some res-”

“Captain, there isn’t any need to step forward for me. Thank you, but I can handle it myself. Lord Atius has already been greatly generous by allowing us both shelter and free speech. Out of respect for that, I’ll call this assembly at an end while he and I speak in private. The lord deathless has come for a reason, yes? Let's not keep him waiting.”

“As it so happens,” Atius said, “I’ve come here for a goal, aye. Your ‘pilgrimage’ as you call it, and it’s purpose here. If you can’t defend your stances in the open yet, you’re free to call this assembly to a stop and take your time later to strengthen your arguments.”

Lejis frowned, “I can certainly put to rest your imitate concerns. Were the machines planning such a deception, I doubt they would have granted us as much freedom with weapons and armor as they have already. Tools and resources your own clan seems in quite the need for, as I see it Lord Deathless. Do consider what we Chosen can offer your people in this time of need, rather than simply cast us off as doomed men.”

A few of the people leaving stopped, heads turned at that while a muttering rippled across the crowed. Lejis didn’t leave Atius a moment to rebuttal, instead jumping off the crate and taking a step to the trio of surface knights.

“Now. You wished to speak to me in private?” He said. “Let's talk.”

Bargains offered by the devil