We are immortal, impervious to mortal wounds and the cruelties of time. The primordials are beyond the reach of all mortal afflictions, including their petty emotions, but our descendants were not. Our children and their children, the gods of ancient Greece were worshiped for centuries. But as time went on, the world changed beneath them, their worshipers dwindled away, turning their love and devotion to other religions, and more recently, to technology and industrial progress. With the dawn of the new world, the old gods were forgotten. This did not affect the primordials and titans in any way -- our power is unwavering -- but the young gods were rendered powerless without a following. These young gods, our children and descendants, grew more and more bitter over the years, wishing they could still have a hold on the mortal world.

So we have granted them this wish. What better way is there to affect the mortal world than to be a part of it?

But cruel beings we are not; we would never force our descendants to suffer through mortality with memories of their once omnipotent existence. As the mortals say, "ignorance is bliss." These memories were banished to the deepest parts of their subconscious. They're not sure where they come from, what they did or who they were before this life, but dreams, nightmares and visions of an existence much too great for the standards of this forsaken city tug at the back of their minds, like the deja vu of seeing this -- everything -- life itself through different eyes a long, long time ago.

One thing is for certain: they must survive to live, and they must live to survive. Whether they are condemned to Hell, or ready and waiting for Heaven, survival is what they all do best. From the drug lord, to the crack-whore, to the seedy businesswoman, these are the regal gods reincarnated in flesh and blood.

Welcome to Elysium, a major metropolis in the good ol' US of A. There is no escape from disappointment, violence, destitution, or decay - it's the drink of gods.