AN: Sorry again for the third chapter being chapter one for a while, I saw a review that said that but it was on chapter 2, so I was confused when I checked that it wasn't. THEN, another review said that about chapter three, so I checked, and yeah. PM me if something like this happens, or write a review, please.


The young man stood and caught his breath for a moment before he spoke, "Sir, there is something happening in the center of town. My Pa' sent me to tell you, there is some sort of…" the teenager paused before he continued in a small burst, "I don't know spirit?! It's making weird shapes in the ground and putting stuff on them!" while the young man was speaking Korban had been getting progressively more worried.

"What do you mean? What is happening? Had anyone been hurt?" evil spirits were rare, and rarely ever powerful enough to be harmful, but this was serious.

"No sir, it's just making something in the dirt. Pa' said you should come right away." The old priest began to move away from his spot before he picked up his walking staff and walked. The pace was hurried, and the man walked quickly from the small altars for the gods with the older boy in tow. The pair made their way towards the small hut nearby he called home.

Once there he grabbed his shield and short sword, he hadn't used the sword in years though it seemed a flimsy defence with a spirit, it was still a defence. As well as his bronze armaments he grabbed some oil and incense. These would become useful if he had to perform some sort of ritual banishing or prayers to the gods, the two of them picked up the pace even farther. For an old man, he was certainly in shape, it showed as he began to jog without tire when he saw just how many of the villagers were present in the market.

The priest yelled out as he came closer, "Everyone move away, make way and disperse back to your homes!" many who heard him turned to face him. No one left, though they did make way for him to enter the market, and most moved farther from the circle. He approached and found the center of attention, the drawing was unfamiliar, the smell of fire fresh in the air. Ash made into two half-circles, distinct and mysterious was certainly one way to describe this circle. The symbol was quickly taken in and the priest spoke to the crowd all still very much present, "Where is it? Where is the spirit I was told about, did it flee?"

He quickly received an answer from a member of the crowd, "We never saw it, sir, just the circle draw itself. Then it collected and burnt kindling, the fire was just moving through the air to the twigs it had collected." The crowd looked at the circle, as if taking their eyes off it would cause something to happen, something bad. Another member of the crowd spoke, a bit quiet but strong nevertheless, "When it reached the wood it flashed brightly for a moment, then before long the ashes seemed to float into different areas."

Worry spread through Korbon's mind 'If I can't see it, then I have to make it go away with more broad strokes.' The priest pulled out the incense and oil as his thoughts continued, 'I'll have to attempt to create a sacred ground to push the spirit away, I can only hope the gods hear my prayers and grant me the help necessary to do so.' The man turned to a man to his right and pointed, "Fetch me some wood and a flat surface to place objects on." the man nodded and left. The priest looked at a few women close together and motioned to them, "Get me a fire starter and something to use as offering to the gods, quickly." The speed specification was hardly needed as the group rushed off to a nearby house. Korban for his part was not idle, opening the small clay container of oil and quickly pouring a few drops as he walked around the circle.

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The Machine God looked at the newcomer, this one absolutely radiated belief. The mark of a priest, it was not one of his own it was certainly interesting. Whom, or what the man was a priest of was currently withheld from the trinity. They watched as the older man spoke and then ordered the people they had gathered to do tasks. What these tasks were, was not yet clear, since all the words were foreign.

Just as they were about to ignore the man to focus on the final touches to their cog, action from the man caught their attention. The man produced a small clay pot, about the size of a fist. They watched as the old man poured out a few drops of oil onto the ground, he continued this around the circle as he spoke.

'Oil.' the trinity halted for a moment, in their mind a mass of memories resurfaced. A factory, a Tech-priest bent over a machine, their mouth long gone, replaced with something more suited to speaking in the sacred binary of Lingua-technis. The prayers uttered in this form were directed towards them, asking for the machine spirit inside of this engine to become calm and sated.

The priest poured a dark liquid into the machine, oil. The prayers continued, sacred parchment was placed on the outside of the engine and inscribed with the cant most appropriate to this machine spirit's needs. The engine roared to life as the Tech-priest finished his ritual.

The images faded for a moment as the Machine God moved their attention back to the old man. The people he had sent away had returned, the man now kneeled in front of a flat stone slate, on the slate was a freshly killed chicken. 'Interesting, I know it is a chicken, and yet I can't ever remember seeing one, odd that it would be one of the few things from my omniscience to be remembered.' that thought distracted them from the last few items, wood and what appeared to be a small pouch.

The man set a fresh fire ablaze, the dry wood he now had made it easy. The chicken was quickly placed on the fire as the man spoke. The words were foreign but the intent was clear as day. 'A sacrifice, though clearly not to us. Even as a form of placation to what these people must view as some form of ghost or devil.' more words of prayer as the chicken began to blacken into dust.

The fire was slightly smaller, though it was never large, to begin with. They could almost sense what the sacrifice was connected to, though the thin thread was faint and barely noticeable to them, thus it was of little notice. As the sacrifice was near its end the priest reached to the pouch and drew out, 'Incense.'

More memories, this time in a cathedral on Mars. The air thick with incense and songs worship through hymns and prayers. The trinity turned their attention away from these memories and back to the man. Smoke from the incense wafted a short distance, mixing with the smell of the fire. 'They see us as something to be cleansed and banished, well. Let us correct that error.'

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Korban had finished his prayers, the first was to all the gods. Then he began to pray to the gods most honoured in the village, Poseidon, Demeter, and Artemis. Finally, he began to pray to his goddess, Athena, as one of her many priests. He hoped that the faith towards the gods as well as the sacrifice had made the spirit flee, though he had no indication of anything.

Just then a cry of surprise came from the crowd, quickly looking up Korban saw two things. Ash from the offering was being moved through the air to the circle and sorted based on colour. But that went almost unnoticed, the smoke from the fire and incense was collecting into the form of a humanoid figure. As the priest stepped backward he drew his sword, the figure was in large robes, though since it was all smoke it was hard to tell. At least now everyone saw the spirit.

Korban made a thrust with his sword in a desperate attempt to drive the being away. The sword was stopped by some invisible force. The man looked at the smoky figure floating in the air above where he had set up his fire. 'If any god can hear me, please have mercy on this village, and spare it.' The silent prayer seemed to be spat on as the sword was wrenched from his grip entirely. The spirit seemed to hold the sword, as it was held the figure appeared to study it.

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The trinity had just begun to hold the smoke particles within a set shape when the priest drew and attacked with his sword. Now with a 'form' as it were, the belief in them had spiked and they grew in strength greatly. Using equally distributed force on the blade stopped it dead in its tracks. It was then that they faintly heard a voice, 'A prayer?!' upon listening to it the Machine God found that the prayer was coming from the priest in front of them.

'It was addressed towards any god that could hear him. I suppose even if he doesn't know it, I am still a god. I am capable of accepting broad prayers to all deities as well, which is new. Though this still raises a lot of questions,' the Machine God pulled the sword to examine it. 'How can I understand his prayer but not his words, intention? And who are these other gods, these people clearly worship? I shall have to investigate.'

Once the sword is close they look at it and begin to examine it, 'Basic bronze,' in the following moments an odd sound came from the crowd. Halting the advancing projectile two arrows were brought into view to be examined as well. 'Simple iron, both are good metals but neither is ideal, well, they are primitive so expecting expert metallurgy is not realistic. The fact that they figured out how to make an alloy is already good.'

They rotated and made their fake head look up in tandem with their sight to see who had shot the arrows. Since all this had only taken a few moments, the bow welders were still standing there in shock. The trinity pulled the bows from the two hunters and placed them near the cog.

They turned their attention back to the older man in time to see him attempt a shield bash. The shield rammed into the smoky air as hard as the priest could manage, the momentum carried through. Due to their being, nothing solid to hit the man lost his balance for a moment.

The trinity caught the man and proceeded to put the fake smoky hands on his shoulders and apply actual pressure from focus. The man surprised by the action bent his knees before trying to stop his descent. The Machine God decided to lead by example, still applying the light pressure but moving the smoke body to imitate sitting. From there the fake body waived the right arm down. As a motion to also sit. The man hesitantly compiled after considering for a moment. They released the pressure on him.

The deity looked at the crowd and saw their fear, some slowly backed away. The smoke body then motioned with their right arm again, first with an overhand gesture towards the circle. The second a motion downwards, similar to the one they had used with the priest. The priest seeing this shouted to the crowd, and though the Machine God didn't know what was being said. The results were that the crowd appeared somewhat reassured and began to slowly sit down. 'Good we can communicate enough with only gestures.'

The lord of all machines still sensed fear within these people, and they were unsure as to how to assuage their fears. They needed to gain enough belief from them to know their language, so how could they ease these villagers in the meantime. Another memory came to the forefront of their mind, it was dark and though not sure where it was likely a forgeworld.

Since the people in this memory were a family of their worshippers. The youngest child was scared, the dark held the unknown. And thus it instilled a fright within those who knew not how to fight through or overcome their fears. The mother was comforting the child, eventually, she began to sing.

It was an old nursery favourite, the lyrics centred around why you should not fear the unknown. Without a better option, they thought for a moment before they found a solution. Without vocal cords, the Machine God had to come up with a solution. The solution was to vibrate the air directly. It was difficult to get the correct frequencies to imitate the sound of a voice singing. Complex and hard to do but much easier than creating a whole body from the air itself, that was still out of the question for the deity.

The going was slow at first, but soon the air was humming. Not human humming, it was more akin to the hum of an instrument. Minor tweaks and experimentation through trial and error lead to the rough imitation of a human voice. The vocal cordless vocal exercise now done, the master of Mars began to hum in human tones this time.

The language was low gothic, it is from a forge world however made it a mesh with some Lingua-technis phrases. None were present in the song, but it was still in the language. From the humming a small pause for the silent and still audience, "Oh my sweet child, why do you cry. You fear and you worry please do not lie. I am here dear, so please do not fear. I know the dark hides much and brings fears, for our Lord is the greatest of the seers. But the Omnissiah, he watches you dear. And under his gaze, you have nothing to fear."

The audience sat in silence, they were all looking at the fake form the deity had created. Throughout the song, the people had grown hopeful, this spilled over into belief. Relinquishing the smoke form, the Machine God set to focusing upon the language in that same moment. It was not that they would grow weaker with the eventual fall in belief, but they would certainly stop gaining strength.

A couple of moments passed, a murmur went through the crowd. Slowly, the lord of knowledge understood some of what the people were saying. Bits and pieces of the sentences fell into place. It was as if the deity hadn't actually been listening to them all this time but now decided to do so. Thinking for a moment brought the correct word to their mind, and quickly preparing their 'voice' to speak it.

"Hello."