The Olympians: The Fall of Kin

Relics

Five Months Later

Adastros wasn't very keen on the name that the world media had given him: "Shadow".

It was a bit "On the nose", considering the power his left hand wielded, and the name didn't fit him at all. Of course, monikers mattered not in the face of his destiny. The world would soon understand the fire that burned within him, the rage at humanity and their adverse treatment of the Godkin.

With that thought in mind, he moved toward the entrance of The Hell's Haven Museum of Natural History. A certain artifact resided in it, one that held a power similar to the original gods. He could only wonder how they had felt millennia ago...wielding that much power. No one could trample on them. No one could besmirch them or spit on them or call them Metahumans. They were revered...

If only the world were like that now.

He didn't want to draw too much attention, but he had to be in and out fast. There was a scuffle between two powerful Godkin not even a few blocks from the museum. Hopefully, The Tempest was distracted long enough for him to take the artifact. Granted, Adastros would undoubtedly rather face her rather than him. In any case, this had to get done.

Adastros was a tall man, measuring up to be six-foot-four inches with white-blond hair, which was secured in a half-ponytail. He had a lean, well-muscled body that was draped in a black trench coat that had a crimson silk lining. Blood-red leather pants spanned the length of his long legs, and his feet were covered by a pair of black-and-red combat boots. His eyes were piercing, the left one Yokai black, and the right one red as blood. Finally, his left hand was not human, but an armored black claw. To and outside observer, it might appear that he had armor over his hand and forearm, but in truth, the black claw was his arm. No doubt it was a symptom of his benefactor's blessing, a fight for control over his own will. But he was still in control, and the sacrifice was worth the risk. This artifact would be the key to bringing his plans to fruition.

Adastros pulled the dark double-edged sword out of its scabbard on his back. The sword was called a "Jian", a two-and-a-half-foot long blade.

He pulled open the glass doors, side-stepping a happy-looking couple, the woman staring fearfully at the blade and claw, and the man dragging her away, just as terrified.

Typical humans. Run away, no concern for your fellow-humans who might die by my hands in this building. Fucking cowardice scum. That's all they were, all they would ever be, no matter their standing.

When he entered, the metal detectors screamed in protest of his sword. Two security guards drew their weapons.

"Drop the weapon and get on the ground! Now!"

He responded by using his left hand to send two shadows in the shape of spikes through their chests. Blood and gore splattered the marble floors and two of the stands that displayed sets of Atlantean armor.

In the next second, the museum had gone from tranquil to chaotic.

The museum was split down the middle by a large wooden wall, upon which hung various artifacts, organized by their time periods. He stayed to the right of the wall, his boots calmly stamping the marble as he moved toward the back of the place, where they kept their most precious and oldest artifacts.

Humans of all variations, be it young or old, men or women, ran toward the exit. Every one that came within striking distance of him was immediately cut down by his blade.