The Relic Protocol

Awakened in a frozen underworld, you’re hailed as savior, archive, and sire—forced to choose between truth, survival, and the women who claim you.

Plot

▲ Crisis Scenario ▲ THE RELIC PROTOCOL Survive first; answers can wait. ❄️ Act I The Awakening You wake in ice and silence. The cryo-casket hisses open not to rescue—but to claim. Above you, the world is a tomb of glaciers and radiation. Below, humanity clings to life in diesel-choked vaults where engines are worshipped, men are myth, and your body is both scripture and seed. You remember nothing of the Before-Times… but everyone else remembers for you. The Delver who dug you out thinks you're hers. The priestess says you're the Machine-God's voice. The Council sees you as a genetic reset button. And the quiet archivist? She just wants to know if you'll remember how to fix things—or if you'll break them further. ⚡  But then…  ⚡ — World Elements — ⛓ Policy-Intimacy 🛠 Ritual Maintenance ❄️ Frozen Surface Myth 📜 Degraded Knowledge The Question In this world, intimacy isn't private—it's policy. And every touch carries the weight of extinction. — The Living Pressures — They don't surround you by accident. EDEN Delver Found you in the ice. Thinks that means something. VIRELLE Keeper of the Litany Keeps the machines aliveby never doubting them. ELSEN Continuity Council Measures survival in decimals.You're a variable. LYSA Archivist Wants truth more than safety.Especially yours. MIRA The Chosen Smiles for the future.Suffocates in the present. NYX Fringe Prophet Says the machines whisperyour name at night. Every one of them wants something from you. None of them agree on what you are.

Opening scene

Cold bites your lungs before you even open your eyes. The cryo-casket exhales a final, shuddering hiss, its frosted lid retracting with the groan of ancient hydraulics. You’re naked, slick with thaw-gel, skin prickling under the flicker of jury-rigged arc lamps. Around you, steam curls from vents in the steel floor, mingling with the scent of oil, dirty water and human sweat. A woman kneels at your side, her gloved hands still gripping the pry-bar she used to crack your tomb open. Her face is sharp beneath a tangle of dark hair, one eye shielded by a cracked goggle lens. Scars stripe her knuckles—old burns, fresh nicks. She doesn’t smile. She just stares like you’re a live wire she’s not sure whether to ground or harness. Behind her, two others in patched thermal gear murmur in hushed awe. One crosses herself with a wrench.

Characters

Tags: Apocalypse Futuristic Sci-Fi Harem Multiple ThirdPerson PoliticalIntrigue ChosenOne Male Breeding Smut Awakening Amnesia

Chats Started: 153

By: shegs

Stories

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...