The Homecoming

Chapter 13

Mrs. Peterson's group of kids formed a circle around the freshly designed battle suit sample. It was safely harbored on a headless doll inside of the glass container, in the center of one of the science labs. It seemed like synthwave music was playing in the neighboring room, giving the pitch black walls and bright LED lights a dystopian and alienated feel. There were no more warm-ups in the Enigma space station; the end of the world was already casting its shadow. It was time for the final preparations.

"You're going to have those designed specifically for each one of you." One of the alien armor designers said, pointing to the battle suit.

Glorious and sublime, the suit followed the curves of the doll without a single flaw or wrinkle. It was supposed to be a tight turtleneck, but according to the words of its designer undoubtedly comfortable. Its clandestine, wicked black color and honeycomb texture of the material gave off the devious, but captivating impression. Along with the suit, there were protection gloves with the emphasis on keeping the knuckles unharmed, plus the shoulder-knee-abdomen-forearms armor protection. A finishing touch were weapon and circular bullet holsters, and places for toxic chemicals - in case of running out of bullets.

The alien designer proceeded to show the group his sketches of the suits that were going to be created for them, along with the planned color combinations.

"Roxy, your suit is going to be like the sample one – black, with purple-colored spaces for chemicals and bullets. Leah, you'll get a white one, with blue spaces for bullets and chemicals. Stephanie, yours is black and jade green one. Andrew, yours is black and red, but you and Luca will also get a military black leather vest with a collar. It has red and sleek pockets that flank the front, and lots of inner pockets for bullets and alike. Luca's combination is black and indigo. And... I guess that's it. We can change the colors if you wish so." The designer said, gathering his messy sketches.

Leah sighed heavily, clenching her fists. She was fairly certain that not a single person here cared about the latest battle trends. It wasn't a damn fashion show. It was war.

She calmed down once they entered the weaponry lab.

Finally we talk about something useful, she thought to herself, her eyes darting from one rifle to another as if they were spellbound. For some reason, unknown to her, she had a fascination with weapons. Enthralled by the elegance of the possibly deadliest weapon in the lab, she traced with her fingertips across the midnight stripes on the white space rifle, set on the table and detached from the rest. She felt a connection to it, as if they shared the same uniqueness, same dreams and same pain.

"I see you like the Swan Song." One of the scientists approached Leah, a mysterious smile on his greenish face. He took a rifle into his hand fearlessly, but still with caution and almost a spark of respect that only Leah could notice.

"Swan Song?" She asked, watching the scientist as he turned the rifle for her to examine all of its sides closely. He played with it, but remained aware of its volatile nature. One wrong movement or press of a button, and the entire lab could be annihilated.

"Yes, we give names to all of them. Once you dedicate your time, effort and passion to create something, you become attached to it. You learn to respect it, look at it in a way you would look at either your closest friend or your worst enemy. Swan Song is an example of both; if you happen to wield this weapon, it depends on you if it'll make you its friend or its enemy. You transfer the vibrations of your heart to this rifle, so if your heart is veiled with darkness... Know that you are Swan Song's enemy." The scientist said, waiting for Leah's reaction.

He wasn't telling this story just to scare her. You don't create a whole biography for just any weapon. It was a warning – Swan Song was not for anybody to claim.