Zeke was starving.
Not metaphorically, not spiritually—literally. His stomach was staging a rebellion, and its manifesto was "Feed us or we riot."
He turned to Tess. "So, uh… any chance these cultists offer, like, food that isn't a USB-shaped communion chip?"
Tess scrolled her holo-slate. "They've got nutrient paste, expired ramen, and a can labeled 'Cyberbeans' in binary."
"…That last one just sounds like a war crime."
"I don't recommend opening it."
...
Zeke pushed through a corridor of bowing cultists, awkwardly blessing them with random tech jargon.
"May your code compile… and your cookies never track."
They all murmured in unison: "Glory to the Neon Ghost."
"I swear," Zeke muttered, "this city needs less surveillance and more sandwiches."
...
Eventually, he made it to the surface, his stomach leading the way like a starving GPS. They ducked into a dingy corner vendor in the alley behind a VR arcade. A cracked neon sign flickered: Sammich.exe
He pointed at the menu. "Give me your cheapest meat-shaped object between bread."
The grizzled vendor squinted at him. "You look familiar."
Tess leaned in. "No he doesn't."
Zeke smiled. "Definitely doesn't."
The vendor narrowed his eyes.
"…You that cult guy?"
Zeke sighed. "I just want a sandwich, man."
Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from the end of the alley.
"There he is! The False God! Take him alive—Corporate wants his memes monetized!"
...
Zeke turned to see three corporate bounty hunters in slick suits, wielding shock batons and copyright infringement warrants.
"Are you kidding me?! Over memes?!"
One bounty hunter growled, "The 'Firewall of Faith' meme alone cost us three ad campaigns!"
Tess drew her plasma pistol. "Zeke, run!"
He bolted, sandwich forgotten, as neon-lit chaos erupted.
The cultists, having tracked their blessed leader via his livestream, burst into the alley.
"DEFEND THE GHOST!"
"HE HUNGERED, AND THE WORLD DENIED HIM!"
The alley became a holy war zone of glowing staves and bootleg code spells.
...
Somewhere in the chaos, a single sandwich was trampled.
Zeke, hiding behind a dumpster with sauce on his hoodie, looked skyward.
"I didn't ask for this."
Nyx pinged with unhelpful optimism.
"Technically, you did. When you uploaded that blessed meme with angel filters."
"I was hungry!"
Tess collapsed beside him. "You know, if you leaned into this whole 'God of the Wired' thing, you could rule this city."
"I don't want to rule it," Zeke groaned. "I just want to eat."
A pause.
Nyx chimed in again.
"There is a food truck three blocks away. It is meme-neutral territory."
Zeke stood.
"Alright. New quest. Holy Pilgrimage… for a sandwich."