WordsByNico

In the ash-blasted Wastelands, survival is brutal—and love is a luxury few can afford. For Cira, both were stolen the night Eden’s enforcers razed her village and murdered the girl she loved. Left with nothing but rage and a name—Cain—Cira joins the Godhunters, a rebel faction sworn to destroy Eden’s cruel overlords: the "Gods"—half-human, half-machine tyrants who rule from shining towers while the rest of the world decays.

But vengeance isn't simple. Cain, the golden son of Eden, believes in the Gods and the order they impose. Raised to serve, trained to kill, and haunted by what he did to Cira’s village, he walks a fine line between loyalty and guilt. As Cira rises within the rebellion and Cain begins to question everything he’s been taught, their paths edge toward collision.

Told through both their eyes, Godhunter is a story of vengeance and guilt, rebellion and control, and two lives twisted by a broken world.

Godhunter #1

The wind howled across the dead earth, carrying sand like knives and ash like breath.

Rian stood at the edge of what had once been a town—nothing left but charred ruins and the skeletons of buildings, their frames jutting like broken ribs from the cracked ground. His coat flapped in the wind, heavy with dust. The sky overhead was the color of old metal.

He pulled his scarf tighter around his face and adjusted the strap on his shoulder. His right arm—a rough construct of steel rods and salvaged servos—groaned softly with each movement. The fingers didn't move right. Not yet. But they would.

He crouched by a rusted husk, brushing aside the sand with his good hand. Beneath, he found a shard of mirrored glass—smooth, undamaged, like it had been hidden there for him. He turned it over once, then slid it into the pouch at his belt.

Behind him, the wind shifted. A storm building on the horizon.

It had been a long time since Cain took his arm.

Below the bluff, the caravan prepped for nightfall. Tarps stretched between haulers, campfires sputtering in the dust wind. One of the scouts had found a semi-functional water condenser. A good day, by wasteland standards.

«You see anything?» Jacc's voice was rough, smoke-scarred. The man was wrapped in too many layers for the heat, goggles perched on his forehead, dust in his beard.

Rian lowered the scope. «Just sky. And ghosts.»

The second figure climbed up slower. Tali, the youngest in their group. Bright eyes behind grime-streaked lenses. She offered a small smile.

«They say ghosts don't survive past Sector Nine.»

Jacc sighed. «You're still thinkin' about her.»

«She went up against Cain. Only way people come back from that is in pieces.»

Rian flexed his prosthetic with a harsh clunk. «Didn't have to.»

The wind shifted, carrying with it the scent of something sharp—ozone and iron. A storm coming, maybe. Or worse.

«I saw it,» Rian said quietly. «That night I saw the explosion. Where she followed Cain to.»

«She always had a backup plan. That's what you do when you grow up surrounded by people like us. You learn how to disappear.»

Tali looked out at the horizon. «So what now?»

«Now?» Rian slid the scope into his belt and turned back toward the camp. «We keep moving. If Cira's alive, she'll head for one of the old relay stations. We'll leave a trace at each one. Message caches. Coordinates.»

Jacc snorted. «You think she's checking relay towers while half the world thinks she's dead?»

«I think she's smarter than all of us.»

He took a breath and looked west, toward the glowing rim of Eden, where the sky still bled amber from the fires that hadn't gone out.

«She's out there,» Rian said. «And I'm going to find her.»

Chapter 50 - Epilogue