Cyberpunk Altar Novels & Stories

The guests were too mesmerized by my ring bearer to even notice what was going on on the altar. “Lola, what’s going on? I don’t understand.” “Of course, you don’t. When have you ever understood anything other than sticking your penis into holes?” And right there, by the altar, she took both rings from Kaleb and dumped them on my hand. The ring box had a paper under but that wasn’t my priority now. “Have a wonderful day with your family instead.” She said and took off. It was then that the guests noticed what was going on.

And now— Marked. Luca spoke carefully. “So it’s not Vale Group?” Mark didn’t answer immediately. His gaze stayed on the symbol. Then— “Vale Group is the surface.” Mia’s chest tightened slightly. “And this?” Mark straightened. “This is what’s underneath.” Silence fell—heavy, uncomfortable, real. One of the guards shifted uneasily. “What do we do with the body?” Mark didn’t look at him. “Bring him home,” he said. A pause. “And erase the mark.”

The acid rain of Neo-Kunlun washed over the ruined, smoking crater where the Grand Compiler had fallen. Millions of cyber-cultivators, from rusted slum-dwellers to high-tier chrome mercenaries, stood in absolute, breathless silence. They stared at the massive Alpha King holding the crushed remains of their false god's core, and the First Weaver whose cosmic aura was slowly receding back into her delicate, mortal frame. A single, high-tier cyborg stepped forward from the crowd. He dropped to his metal knees, bowing his head so low it touched the toxic puddle on the street.

The walls wept, black ichor trickling down as if to mourn her arrival, or to beg her to turn back. She did not. At the city’s heart, beneath a sky that did not dare to move, stood the Spiral Altar—a wound cut into the bones of the world, ringed in flame that was not fire, but remembrance. Sirelia climbed alone. The army watched, held in the thrall of what could not be stopped. At the top, she bled from her palms, drawing runes in her own blood, the last chain binding her to the world. She raised her arms to the city, to the altar, to whatever ancient god still slept below.

It was time for another exchange, so Wilbur entered the demiplane. The Dragon's Altar stood in a dark space. This ancient altar had existed for who knows how long, hiding many secrets. What kind of existence was the Dragon? Wilbur did not know, but he urgently needed to exchange for thunder-type Healing Pills. He threw the ant-man's crystal core and the broken sword into the Dragon's Altar, and soon received 1800 grace points and 1200 grace points. The two sacrificial items combined actually exchanged for a total of 3000 grace points. Wilbur looked at the result appearing on the screen and gaped in shock.

He raised his head from the ground and nodded. “What do you want with the altar?” asked Sonny. He had moved over towards Laney, who gave him such an intense scowl, he moved back again. “It’s supposed to explain the Queen’s power. If I can stop her magic, we can get rid of her and her crack troops of boy band wannabes.” I examined the altar. It was made of stone and was also inlaid with brass. It was built like a box with the top like a lid. I tried shifting it, but it didn’t budge.

Feelings of dread came over her and she could feel her heart in her throat. Ally knew when she flipped the switch there would be another birthday surprise she wasn’t going to be able to handle. She flipped it anyways. Another great masterpiece painted by the late Leonardo da Vinci creeped into her mind, Last Supper, but the Rob Zombie edition. The birthday decorations where all still there. In fact, someone took great care to arrange all of the bodies in the chairs. Some were wearing party hats, other had noise makers in their mouths. Looking at the floor she saw Jeremy’s hair tousled and matted with blood. He was missing his arm, the one that sent her over the edge this morning. He wa

They made their way to us and sat down beside me. At two minutes the pack house doors swung open again for the second time revealing four large men who were to ensure it was an honorable fight. The two taller, larger men were Alphas, but the tallest of them had a stern look on his face. Scars littered down his back on plain display. Muscles hard from years of training. He stepped to the middle of the ring and addressed the crowd directly.

“Stay sharp. If she does anything, I will deal with it.” The ruins stretched before us, jagged rocks against a crimson canvas. The air was heavy, crackling with the same sickly energy I’d experienced in my visions. I grabbed Derrick’s arm and whispered in his ear. “This is it. The ritual’s here.” He signaled to the warriors to fan out, their weapons flashing in the moonlight. Sophia halted, indicating a small path leading into the wreckage. “The altar’s down there. Hurry.”

And why? There were several more emails and I went through all of them one by one, even the financial records of Knight Corp before the merger was right in front of me. There was also a list of all shareholders of Knight Corp, both major, minor, public, and secret shareholders. After I went through everything, there was the investigator’s summary. It read; Correlation confirmed, email headers from both burner accounts match the IP of this address: 1121 Fifth Avenue, Manhattan, New York, NY 10028 which is the location of the Knight Mansion. This has been cross-checked against device activity logs provided by your IT. And only Alexis Knight’s device was active at those exact time stamps.