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Fe’rein
There was a grand crystallized window
along the port side of the vessel––the Harbinger. It afforded a view that
overlooked Terra, as the blue planet had been called for the past thousand
years. The sun cast a glare over its edges. Had one known what the world had
looked like millennia previous, they would have seen the changes. The dark
coloration of the seas, the murky, bruised clouds that covered a good portion
of the land––save for the hundreds of square miles just beneath Culouth, the world
above as it was called by those below.
A figure stood abreast the window; the
one-piece jumpsuit was dark black, matching his short-cropped hair. The tight
spikes were flushed forward. Hands clasped behind his back, he wore the
expression of a military man.
His furrowed brows formed a sinister
line over his cold brown eyes; the solitude that encompassed him reflected in
his frozen glare. The corridor around him was bathed in shadow. The only light
came from the glow of the planet below and faded illuminators that lined far
off into the distance.
He was called Marion. Once he had been a
respected member of the House of Te’huen, a warrior sect of Culouth that had
waged wars against man and rim worlds alike.
He broke from Culouth, a clear
distinction being made between those who chose to align themselves with
Intelligence: fiber optic enhancements and regenerative replacements and those
who opposed these technological interventions.
The clicking of footfalls resonated in
the dismal chambers.
Marion did not bother to turn.
His dark eyes watched the slow rotation
of Terra. His cheek muscles flexed. “So Kyien would not come himself I see,”
Marion spoke with an air of confidence.
Deeper down the hall the lights
flickered.
The running lights dimmed and then exploded
in a shower of clear sparks. Black boots walked over the carpet of glass as
each one shattered in turn. The face was shadowed over; only the stark white
pants and the dark boots emerged from the darkness that seemed to surround the
being.
“To see you?” responded the shadow man.
Marion lowered his head.
Eyes closed, his hands were still firmly
placed behind his back. “A peace must be reached. Even your master must
understand this….”
The man snorted indignantly.
He still hid in the shadows. His eyes
were now illuminated crimson. Billowing energy flowed freely from his face.
“There can be no peace. There will be no peace.”
“Why then did you bother to come here?”
The shadow man paced outside of viewing
range, ignoring the question and posing another. “How many refugees are here
with you?”
Marion’s surprise showed visibly in the
cock of his head, looking back toward the shadowed figure. The twin clouds of
energy shone like two animal eyes in the night. “What?”
“How many of your tainted kind walk this
hollow home?”
“What is the meaning of this?”
The man emerged from the darkness, his
features apparent for the first time. His bald head was tan. A jagged scar ran
diagonally across his face, carving a ridge over his eye, nose, and ending just
below his lip. A light brown beard covered his chin.
His brown eyes were tainted.
Crimson clouded where white should have
been.
He wore a gray suit, fitted around his
waist and flared out loosely over his thighs and legs. Marion inhaled sharply
upon seeing the man move into the light.
His features darkened, outlining the set
of his strong jaw. “He who kills his own kind,” whispered Marion. His words
were like a hiss, a curse at the man who stood before him.
“I have no kind.”
“You have tainted the power of Terra,
used its energy for the Intelligence. You were once a man, a human not unlike
us,” reasoned Marion, his voice wavering.
“How many are here with you?” pressed
the warrior with a level, unrelenting glare. A sweep of his hand dismissed
Marion’s words.
“I am alone,” responded Marion.
The shadow warrior turned his head and
looked toward the corridor wall. His face curled into a cruel grin. Turning
back to Marion, the shadow warrior clucked his tongue against his cheek. “You
lie,” he spoke with a hint of sarcasm and wagged his finger as if he were doing
so to a sullen child.
“No,” called Marion, but it was too
late.
The shadowed warrior raised his arm to
the wall, flattening his hands against it. They shimmered with the same energy
that consumed his eyes. The wall began to swell from the heat radiating out
from his hands, the center brighter than the rings that flowed around it.
Marion moved forward to intervene, but in the eyes of the shadow warrior he
might as well have been standing completely still.
He had lowered his shoulder to bull rush
into the dark warrior.
The denizen of shadow proved too quick,
his foot flew out with true aim. He caught Marion along his kneecap,
disintegrating the bone with inhuman efficiency and power.
“Damn you,” Marion snarled as he fell to
the floor.
He grasped at the empty pocket of flesh
riddled with shards of bone. His cold glance fell on the shadow warrior. His
eyes welled with tears from pain and shock.
The shadow warrior did not even
acknowledge the man’s pain.
“Why do you slaughter your own kind like
cattle?”
The being looked down, but did not
respond.
The wall melted away like a viscous
liquid and pooled on the ground, solidifying into a gnarled mass of steel
beneath the makeshift entrance. The shadowed man stepped through, his stride
broad and the scowl carved across his features sunk in seriousness.
Startled screams erupted throughout the
room.
Azure energy waves swirled with amber
and complete darkness. He reached out with his left hand and traced it
vertically. A spherical energy field formed around him. The energy blasts
rebounded over the sphere, scorching the walls with burn trails as the crimson
energy flowed outward from within the warrior, consuming him like a surreal
flame.
He walked, searing the floor beneath
him.
His eyes lacked the human quality they
had previously.
The splatters of energy slammed into the
sphere, melting like snow on a hot engine. The warrior grimaced outwardly as he
sliced his hand through the air, energy ripping like a disc running
horizontally across the room. Horrendous screams echoed against the darkened,
blood-soaked walls.
“Why do you oppose what is meant to be?”
“Because they have chosen to be free,”
muttered Marion as he struggled across the hole that the shadowed figure had
created. A sigh escaped his lips as his arms struggled to carry his heavy,
useless body. “You are a….”
The shadowed man’s eyes settled on
Marion’s fallen figure.
His dark eyes seared into the man.
Sweat beaded at Marion’s forehead. The
sheer heat from his energy choked Marion, forcing him to gasp as the oxygen
thinned around the fallen Resistance warrior.
“I am what, lower being?” mocked the
dark eyes.
Marion gasped for words.
Clawing at his throat and then his
chest, he rolled over onto his back––his mouth opening and closing like a beached
fish struggling for its last breaths. The shadow being spun and with him went
the current of dead air. A sputter of air emerged from Marion’s open mouth and
then his lungs took in a fresh taste.
A blade collapsed against the sphere.
Energy trickled like flakes.
The shadow figure lashed his arm out.
The blade collided with his outstretched
forearm, shattering the reinforced steel. The face of the assailant came into
view as the shadow warrior’s gloved hand wrapped around her throat.
Her blond hair fell over her shoulders.
The tousled curls hung back from her face as he lifted her into the air. The
veins in her throat bulged as she struggled to swallow. “Bastard,” she spoke,
her words labored as she tried to breathe.
“You are only a child,” croaked the
shadowed warrior, looking at the woman’s features with a snarl. Her blond hair
was draped over smooth, tan features.
Intense blue eyes stared at him.
He shook his head, mental pictures
flashing across his vision.
He saw images of a young woman.
Her short hair faded to white.
Dark eyes stared back at him.
He pulled back, releasing his grip upon
the woman.
She fell from his grasp.
“Run, child,” groaned Marion, a defeated
look in his eyes.
She remained crouched, staring up at the
shadowed creature.
As she backed away using her hands to
propel her retreat, the being’s energy dissipated. He lowered himself to the
ground, the sphere fading, receding back into his body.
“We have to get out of here,” spoke
Marion, desperately trying to move from the rubble. His hands clawed at the
surface of the metal.
The girl backed away from the shadowed
man. Her hands supported her as she backpedaled and then slipping, she tried to
regain her balance.
She fell flat on her back.
Grimacing, she brought her hands to her
face.
A dark liquid covered them.
She wiped them against each other and
turned her hands into the half-light from the adjoining room. A thought
ricocheted hollowly in her mind: blood.
She looked around in a panic.
There were bodies scattered all over the
floor, blood smeared across the metallic walls. A wail started deep in her
throat, a thin whining sound that was trapped in her chest.
“So much blood,” she cried, crawling up
the walls.
She slipped with each step, the
screeching sound escaping her lips. Placing her hands on her face, she let
loose a primal scream. Its volume opened the shadowed man’s eyes––irises still
consumed in fire. The sphere reopened once more, a devilish fire accompanying
it. The heated gale knocked Marion back into the corridor and the girl against
the wall, holding her there by an invisible force.
“You are not her,” he spoke.
His eyes were black now, like polished
obsidian stones.
“What?” she queried through tight lips.
“You look like her, but it cannot be,”
he continued, his presence unfolding around her.
Marion watched the exchange with a
bewildered look. The dark warrior spoke casually, as if he were in tavern and
not on a battlefield. “There is still time to end this madness, you don’t have
to slaughter us like animals,” spoke Marion.
The shadowed figure looked at the man.
Disdain was plastered across his
features.
Her overhead strike caught him across
the skull.
She struck again, the steel bar gripped
tightly in her hands, a cold snarl carved across her beautiful features. The
shadow whirled on her, his face hidden in the crimson aura that consumed him.
He stared down at her, and then rose
into the air menacingly.
“You are a brave girl, but that is not
enough.”
He grasped the free end of the pipe and
lifted it, taking with it the girl’s diminutive figure. She kicked her legs out
in a useless gesture, striking him across the chest.
“You wish to make this a game?’ he
mocked, cocking his head.
Reaching out with an unreal quickness, he
grabbed her throat with his free hand and then threw her into the adjoining
corridor. Her body collided with the opaque window that overlooked the world
below.
A whimper escaped her lips as she rolled
onto her back.
“By all means, run.”
“Don’t do this,” whispered Marion.
His voice wavered.
Glassy eyes watched the hungry,
predatory look in the shadow’s eyes. The warrior turned, looking down at Marion
and lifted his foot. He did not pause as he smashed down on the base of
Marion’s overturned neck.
A crack echoed in the dismal chambers.
His eyes glazed over; death had claimed
him.
“This must be done,” replied the shadow
to the corpse.
Looking down into the dead gaze of
Marion, he sighed.
Not one of regret, but of annoyance.
The girl had a good lead on him.
Her boots clicked as she charged through
the corridor.
Her breath came out in practiced
lengths.
The muscles of her legs pulsed with
adrenaline as she glanced back, seeing only that the darkness of the corridor
chased her. She breathed out as she slowed, her arms flailing at her sides as
she ran.
The shadow warrior stood before her, his
dark red eyes the only visible feature. As she backpedaled, he followed her.
She looked down, seeing that each step he took seared the metallic walkway.
Burn marks stretched far off into the
distance.
“Why?” Her words had a pleading tone.
“This can’t be the power of the Believer.”
The shadow angered visibly.
The curl of his tight-lipped grin
lessened and disappeared.
His face was like charcoal, the deep
inset regions of the sun marred in extreme heat. “What could you know of the
power of the Believer, the burden that it carries?”
“I know that you were not meant to have
it, your dark heart.”
The shadow was upon her, a flash
accompanying his sudden forward motion. He lifted her by the throat, holding
her against the glass, high above his own body.
Tears streamed down her face.
Eyes held strong, but her lips quivered
beneath his gaze.
“I will show you a dark heart,” he
sneered.
He pulled her body back easily, as if
she weighed nothing at all, and then flung her forward. His unnatural strength,
coupled with her body mass, was sufficient to shatter the opaque window. A
powerful sucking sound permeated the corridor as both of them were pulled out
into space.
She shuddered in the cold abyss.
Her mouth gasped for only a moment; the
lifeless scream trapped in her throat faded. The blood drained from her face as
he let her free––her body floating weightlessly in the expanse of space.
The fire engulfed him completely, though
it lacked the licking branches it had in an oxygenated environment. His eyes
were buried beneath the dark power that claimed him.
He watched the girl drift away.
“Ryan.”
A voice whispered in space.
It was a woman’s voice, powerful and
clear.
He shook his head defiantly, beating his
fists against the side of his head. His human features appeared as the fire
died away, leaving his listless eyes to stare off into space.
“I am no longer that man,” he screamed,
his arms tucked close as he spoke the words. As he extended his arms over his
head in a powerful motion, a wave of energy resonated from his body. The force
of the power surged across the stars and disintegrated the space station.
He pulled his arms close to his body
again.
The energy reached the limits of its
power. And then as quickly as it had come, it returned to the shadowed warrior
who had once been known as Ryan, son of Evan, but now as Fe’rein, the half-man
assassin of Culouth.
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