I don't suppose you know me; everyone who knows me by name died or vanished thousands of years ago. You don't believe I'm six thousand and twenty-three, ne? I'm not surprised. Humans stopped believing in magic almost four thousand years ago. Since then, the immortal races have been pushed to the background. Technology is holding the people's interest - and power - these days. Most of the Mazoku have taken to lurking in the shadows of large cities, where they can feed and never have to venture out. The Ryuuzoku were all but wiped out, unable to adjust to the new ways of things. The handful remaining live in deep seclusion, hidden from the destructive power of disbelief.
Strange, but I never really expected the humans to be the dominant race. They have almost pathetically short lives and limited powers. I guess they had more power than we thought, though, especially over us. Since they stopped believing in magic, we, the immortal races, have more or less lost our powers over them. It's odd, I'm still in possession of most of my abilities, but they don't usually work on people, or when I'm around people who don't believe. Yet there must be someone out there who still believes, or else I probably would have lost them completely.
Heh. Whoever thought that I of all people would end up working as a computer game programmer? I admit, it's highly unlikely. Me, working with the very instruments of my downfall. What is the world coming to? Ah, well, at least I can still have fun. Who do you think puts all the glitches in your favorite games that allow you to jump levels and have infinite hit points? It's certainly not some fat, balding guy with glasses and goatee. Okay, so I have glasses, but they're for decoration only. My brilliant purple hair, which I keep in a ponytail, is not exactly helpful to the professional appearance. It's been several hundred years since people stopped wearing capes, so I can't wear my old garb. A trench coat is the next best thing, I suppose, but it's harder to trick people into thinking I'm harmless because this kind of coat radiates intimidation. Oh well.
Lately I've begun to notice small changes in the astral plane and small changes to the limits of my abilities. I've been able to teleport closer and closer to my destination, no matter how many people who don't believe are around. And there's a growing power on the astral plane, several, actually. Four minor vibrations of power on a plane that has been dormant for four millennia are quite interesting, especially because they all came into existence around the same time. Whoever these people are, they are blessed with the old powers of magic.
But another power is beginning to awaken as well, possibly because of the push of the old magic. This force is familiar. I remember it because I fought it twice. Once in the form of Sidag Gray-Wars, the Master of the Blood Runes that came from across the Seas of Chaos, and again against Zelgadis Greywers, the Angel of Vengeance.
Of course, this all happened ages ago. The powers that were reborn have walked the earth of technology for, say, seventeen years, give or take a little. Time loses meaning when you're immortal.
Still don't believe me? Then allow me to introduce myself.
My name was Xellos Metallium, Trickster Priest and General under the now deceased Beast Master Zelas Metallium. That's not my name now, of course.
...
And I'm late for a presentation.
Crap.