Risen: Shatterverse

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

I didn't awake with a jerk, only to realize that I was trapped in my own coffin. I awoke in a alien metal body, most of my memory missing, and no longer able to do what I thought I was summoned back from the dead to do. And what I did know made me question my purpose, no, my very existence.

I am the neo-shell clone of the Risen hero of Earth, Max Niekro. My essence comes primarily from that part of Max that was absorbed by the K'ethik to create Legion, but I got a bit from every other Risen taken down that day, along with a hint of Legion itself. To set myself apart from that great man, I called myself Version 2.0, or Two for short. Yeah, I know, a bit derivative and not terribly clever. But I'd like to see any of you do better in a similar circumstance.

Regardless of how I came to be, or what I was made up of, a burning question dominated my mind morning, noon and night: How do you replace a legend like Max Niekro? The man forged the Risen into a terrible thing, capable of the unimaginable: the defeat of not only the Velkin, but the Vanguard of the Blood, their kissing cousins. Not only that, he brought back the Avatar races, saved the Sarvee and forged lasting alliances with the most unlikely of creatures. Thanks to him, Earth, once a relatively unknown world in the backwaters of the Orion Arm of the Milky Way galaxy, had become so much more in a very short period of time.

So, seriously, how was I going to upstage that? Logic suggested, of course, that I didn't even try. But I still had too much of Max in me in the form of his memories that pushed me forward, that demanded I make something of myself. Something separate from the legend he became.

That drive put me here, in the belly of an Inferno class capital ship, along with a couple thousand volunteers, that were looking to take the fight to the half-mad god, the Collector. Yeah, sounds like a screamer, right? A total gas! Meh, not so much. The soldier in me was telling me that this wasn't going to be enjoyable on any level. In fact, it was pretty much guaranteed to be a shit show. But, since I had a world entity personally ask me to join up and help her and her comrades take back their universe, here I was, looking to prove myself to all those watching.

I grimaced at that thought as I slowly walked across the converted shuttle bay that was serving as our impromptu troop barracks, a backpack of gear slung over my shoulder and wearing a used Risen uniform. In truth, I don't think anybody was watching me. I was just another silver face in a sea of faces that saw more than their fair share of thar'kura, echoes, and neo-shells like me.

"You look lost, clone," a hard voice observed from close by. Scratch that, I had one person watching. Twisting my head in that direction, I found myself looking at the always dangerous shape of a female mecha drake in human form striding parallel to me.

"I ... I know where I'm going," I said after a slight pause. The mecha lifted a graceful brow in a silent question. Then she was sliding close.

"Do you?" she challenged, looking me hard in the face. "You don't walk like you do. The man whose visage you wear, Max Niekro, walked without hesitation and with complete resolve, a powerful, commanding stride bordering on a full out run when he wasn't smashing buildings and velkin apart."

"I'm no juggernaut," I began, feeling more than a bit defensive. Only to hear her snort derisively.

"That much, is certain," she replied. "Best figure out what you are, clone, before the fight begins. Or you won't be holding on to that borrowed body, or your stolen essence for very long."

With that, she turned away to push herself out of sight through the throng, leaving me to stare at the space she had recently departed.

"What the hell!" I muttered sourly as I tried to push suddenly welling anger and frustration back down. "What the fuck is her problem?"