Or otherwise known as
The End of OriginZ: You Can (Not) Be Cured
(Please note I haven't fully watched most of the POVs. I can only hope I captured them right.)
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8:00 PM
Nick slumped against the terminal controls, retching forth at the feel of cold steel colliding with his pale skin. He wasn't so frail as the pull away from meager touch, however, the deep coil embedded into his bowels plunged that coldness further into his gut like an icicle poised into his stomach. Red lights flared above, sirens screaming for the potential end of times. Locked into the depths of a nuclear warhead, the base of a cult- the Reclaimed, he stiffly recalls- the grasp on his sniper rifle loosening, as did the ammunition. The metal doors slowly ceased to be- sliding neatly into the corridor walls as he revealed himself to the public gaze of those metal-masked fiends.
He could barely feel his arms rest upon his knee, the sniper's rest placated just around his eye as he scared through his scope. Then, 4x that sight- then, 8x that sight, and met with nothing but cold darkness. And the timbre of the trumpet that blasted above him, dying him in all shades of red and fear. His heart pulsated in his throat as he barely stilled himself. He knew well- Sniper's training ingrained deep into the far reaches of his skull. You don't breathe when you shoot, lest the slight stifle of your grasp might send your bullet awry. But there was no one to shoot.
Not anymore.
An automated voice announced from old, rusted speakers: The nuclear reactor has reached fatal levels. It's beginning to flood, filling the air with cement and citrus flavors that burned his sense of scent and taste in one whiff. He can feel it from the ventilation, as the unease glow of green slowly corroded any form of metal in sight. He can't even hear the sound of padding footsteps- the fiends were long gone. Escaped, their own hubris turned on them when their experiments fled from their gulag. Took them. Ate them. Proper justice dealt for the dead.
His gaze turned upwards to the ever-reaching halls of metal, lapsing his sniper into his lap as he slowly recalled his last few days alive. The day he enrolled in the military ranks- the day the apocalypse broke out. His meeting with the Colonel. That damned half-zombie. Now, the end of the end. He was surrounded by cool walls that were imparted with a faint scent of irradiated heat, even despite the chills down his spine. His throat felt sore, like words scratched it's inner walls- choking them down as his own waning thoughts drowned his consciousness. A somber soberness arose in his chest, then to his head, and his gaze came glassy. Pathetic of a soldier, but.. He wasn't quite one anymore.
Either him or the Colonel. A sniper or the commander. He chose himself when one option wasn't available. Do it in his stead, let humanity die from a swift execution. Don't let a trace of tragedy behind, besides the green hue of death to rot the Earth. He did, in apology, in many, many, stupefied apologies even as he came into the reactor's core and set that bomb there. It wasn't enough, they weren't enough, nothing, everything, he was so goddamn sorry.--
Honorable collateral, he repeated- as though the term existed. The red lights continued, barely piercing his ears as he sat there, his head submerged into his lap- nose meeting the metal magazine of his sniper-rifle as he barely choked out a muffled sob. It echoed, even then, between the dying screams of machinery, then- he realized it, it hit him as he felt his bones begin to shrivel up. Joints malformed, twisting, burning away as with his muscle. He was dying alone.
And then, those sobs turned into bellowing shrieks- cries, sobs, sadness and remorse, just before he died, as he swiftly shuffled through his person- un-packaging his padded jacket's pockets to remove a single item from his chest into his grasp in formidable, demure grasp that he slowly rose.
His eyes were red and hazy and he couldn't breathe, either from his own sadness or the choking radiation that seemed to be already melting his skin in painful blisters--
- And the silence after.
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Axe and Execution ( OriginZ AU )
Fanfiction"Worst Possible Scenario" Drabbles for OriginZ!
