AN: Ok, so if this wasn't clear. The Machine God gains strength from knowledge and worship. Belief in them results in them having greater strength, which in turn allows them to use that power to gain knowledge, no it does not loop. And the only reason they can use their power to gain knowledge is that they were at one point omniscient(allegedly) and have domain overall knowledge. They learn things and gain worship so as to regain that lost knowledge and strength.


The Machine God stood, for lack of a better way to describe their non-material form. Their sight lay on the crowd which had surrounded the cog drawing, 'Though it would seem these people have fear in their hearts already, we should continue since we have grasped their attention.' Upon that thought they began to sense a change, it seemed to be in the air itself. Belief, that there was something here, born from the abnormal and perhaps even supernatural sight before them.

The Machine God just had to encourage and grow that belief into the worship of a greater being. Using the small amount of newly gained strength he easily put a line from the top portion of the cog's circle to the bottom portion. Essentially cutting the cog in half without the line entering the unbroken cog. From this sudden action, the trinity heard a couple of small gasps of surprise.

He needed to show his dualism without the skull, the melding of flesh and machine into a higher being. Their thoughts turned to the most basic parts of the dualism at play in their cog. Symbols into shapes perhaps? No, it wouldn't be guaranteed to work, colour? Colour could work, if nothing else it shows a clear difference. 'But how do we create that difference with mono colour soil?' from that thought came the being's next action, observing their surroundings.

No eyes to speak off, and yet the keenest of sight, their mind working to find leads to their problem. 'The main colours of the cog are black and white. Well, grey metal, and bone, but what can stand in for those?' Only moments had passed, but their mind was frantically searching for the answer when they saw the link to that answer. A piece of ashen pottery was visible near one of the people's feet, its purpose unimportant but it gave insight. 'By taking the earth and shaping it, they could then bake it in that shape permanently. The shaping has been done, but now I must set to making a kiln for my creation.' their intention was not an actual kiln but for the effects of a kiln to take place.

Inside one of the homes, a fire was burning in a primitive oven as it were. Moving quickly they set about gathering fuel. Dry leaves and twigs were the first to be found and snatched from the ground and area surrounding the buildings. These were placed on one half of the cog's inner circle, the next step was fire, which was transferred from the oven toward the circle. The process of doing so was much slower so that the fragile flame didn't die.

Passing over the people gathered the trinity noted that one of the people in the crowd was leaving, they paid it little mind. Keeping the attention of the remaining crowd was more important. Finally reaching the cog with the fire the Machine God took a moment to feel the belief in the air fill their being. They had enough power on their own to move things, to keep the flame from going out, though all that was helped by what knowledge they did remember.

Not every detail of their once great knowledge was lost to them, two of the several things they did remember were exerted energy to physical force and combustion. The latter knowledge was drawn on here, the air was strained and then rich oxygen kept on the kindling. The flame was lowered to the veritable buffet of fuel, a brief flash sparked out where oxygen was most concentrated. Staying relatively contained to that half of the circle.

Though the crowd had taken a few steps back. A brief spike in fear, but an overall increase in belief, 'They know us to be strong, mysterious at the least.' The earth beneath the flames darkened, and the black ash was spread over the dirt where no fire remained. However, the ash that was white was quickly and carefully placed unto the other half of the circle and spread. More fuel was added to the still-burning areas. The ash separated and the cog neared its completion. A shout came out from the near-silent crowd, they looked up to see an older man with a staff and small shield.

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Korban sat in front of the town's altars to the gods, only a few gods were honoured regularly. Demeter and Poseidon were the most prominent since this village was mostly farmers and fishermen, though there was a small shrine to Artemis nearby as well. The few hunters in the village would offer praise and a small sacrifice to the goddess of the hunt before they began theirs.

Korban for his part sat in front of the small altar he had built for Athena. Korban was not old, not in his opinion anyway, but to many people, he would be seen that way. He had a difficult early life just outside of Athens, his father had been a minor god, his mother never told him who, just that he wasn't very powerful among his fellow gods. Once he had reached young adulthood he and his mother moved to live in Athens, where his mother would work as a servant in a merchant's house, and he would find work in manual labour.

Several years had passed before he joined the Athenian military. If he was to have a good future then service was the only route to citizenship in Athens. After he had done his term of mandatory service, the man had sought employment. He had come to do work at the temple of Athena due to his good reputation among those whom he had met and worked under. While he spent his days performing tasks for the priests and followers he had learned from them. He had even learned to read and write from one especially kind priest named Aegis.

The older man had been a second-generation priest after his military service. He had been an excellent teacher and friend to Korban. Years later his mother had died, and though he had built alike for himself in Athens he had felt the need to travel. And travel he had, first north to see the great sights and people there, as well as pray at the temples nearest to Olympus. A pilgrimage of self-discovery and mourning to start, from there he had arched back south, he had made a visit to the centers of worship of Hermes and Pan Arcadia.

After a small prayer to Hermes for safe travels, he had taken a boat to Crete. Once there he had explored the island and stayed in a small village for the winter months due to his want of rest. His time there had been peaceful and he had been sad to go. But after nearly a year the man had returned to Athens and met with his friends. A couple of years later and he had become a priest in the temple.

Korban was happy to a degree, but the city had never seemed to resonate with him despite his life in Athens. The middle-aged man had decided to travel again, before he left he had been given a small shield from Aegis, the much older priest had said it had been his father's. His friend's gift was treasured by Korban and used to protect his life on the road. The man had travelled to places he had not been before, after his time on the road he had felt an uplift in his general mood but not fully contented.

After returning to his home in Athens he had a dream the first night back. It was of his time in Crete, and the village he had been in. One last journey then had been his usual thoughts then. He bid his friends goodbye and gifted what little he owned in the city to his friends or the temple. Years had passed since he had been to Crete but when he had arrived, the couple of friends he had made in his time had recognized him.

He had settled in the same village as before, Dimitis, which was built on a small hill near a lake. The ocean was a couple of hours' walk. Often men from the village would travel to work on boats before returning in a few days with new items and the remainder of the money they hadn't spent on those items. And so, Korban was here now, sitting and praying.

His peace was interrupted by one of the village boys, the teenager ran to him at a very fast pace. The old priest of Athena had become something of the village priest. He had often been called on to settle minor disputes or disruptions, it also probably helped that he had kept his body and military training sharp ever since he had started to travel. The man sighed before he spoke, "Slow down boy, now tell me, what has you in such a rush?"


AN: Sorry, I didn't think I would flesh out the priest so much but, it's what came to me to write, so it's there now. (edit: changed cog to circle so that the ash isn't in the cog drawing but the circle. So the cog is just drawn in the dirt, and the circle inside of it is black and white from ash.)