[A message in a bottle found floating in the universe, evidence of radical actions under the G.A.B.I AI]
I held onto the ship as the landing gears vibrated planting its feet onto the landing bay, the hiss of the door opened to the black of the abandoned vessel illuminated by only the rotating red emergency lights. My teammates exited first sweeping the bay, their cones of light from the weapon flashlights only reflecting the disturbed dust; my visor pinged each of their areas clear I removed my hand from the holster of my B-Rev. The mission, retrieve survivors from the deployed squads or obtain their death log.
"investigate area", the technology muffled my voice box and sent the intention silently to the eardrums of the team.
As a cloud surrounded the vessel, survivors are not able to connect to the Mother, from the blindness of the unknown she sent Defective squad. Front runner DFR-35, damaged ear drum and damaged lower spine, balance unstable. Back line DBL-4F and DBL-11 have a nonworking heart and heavy blind spots in both eyes respectively. I commander of the mission DCR-0B, born allergic to silicone, material of bio components; instead I keep the wiring on my back and was made commander as invasive modules for local connections were temperamentally installable on my system. I do not want... we all want to rest but there is 'no glory without purpose'.
"faint distress signal", DBL-11 signaled clearing away from the welded door to be breached.
" Clear for breach", I give the signal to DFR-35, with the whirring sound of the N.E.R.V.E system, strength multiplied he rips apart the door taking a step back to regain balance.
Echoes of our footsteps bounce into the abandoned rooms, each room leaving with a streak of blood that converged into the dark end of the hallway.
"Halt", DBL-4F system returned as a high spike of stress was read, with P.S.I injecting anti-stress.
The morale censor obscured the cause on their retinas but like the times before to remove the censor I removed my visor to analyze. The mutilated human body hanged from the ceiling, the decayed organic fluids seeped through its orifices, nails and teeth hanging on their last strand of flesh.
"Make haste", I return to my visor moving past the corpse.
We freeze, creaks of the taut string echo, my shoulder colliding with it.
"click", a pulse of energy discharged, super heating all the bio components quicker than my thoughts for protection protocols; igniting my back I threw off the wiring as it injected a 5x overdose of anti-stress. Leaving me with only the acknowledgement of grief staring at charred remains.
I force my eyes open as I gasp for air, pausing my dance to death. To know and act towards our known vulnerability could only be by a Blessed, the ones who seek to end us. I retrieve their batteries and placed the last of their wills into them; readying my B-Rev I pushed forward.
The trail darkens as more branches of blood connect to its trunk knowing certain death was to be found at its end; to which I find a blaze of burning corpses. Carbon skin like of those I left rise above the flames the skeletons reveal themselves as the last of their lives are flacked away. My weapon capacitors glow a blasters recognizable blue, its barrel pointed towards the white furred figure.
"Carnivore wolf class, state your blessing and restrain yourself or I will fire", it threw another body into the flame.
It turned, its cold blue eyes locked on my own; I blinked.
"your powers cost innocent lives", teleportation; shattering my wrist with its natural strength my weapon drops.
"you have no trouble teaching us how", I use its anger to prevent loosing an arm instead it throws me to the wall; but I do not know what she means.
YOU ARE READING
Numeric Five: Public Archive
Short StoryNumeric Five, a lone dragon in the wide expance of the universe decides to make a archive of intresting things. [All stories here are not connected and can be read in any order, preferably the later ones first cuz they are better written]
