Today’s entry was inspired by a chess game between my cousin and I. At least initially it was I can’t begin to explain the inner mechanisms of inspiration but it took me good places. I’m happy with this story even in its raw state. Enjoy
She was ruthless in her approach, pressing on through the hailstorm of incoming fire. She took long strides in head to toe brilliant white armor. The heavy plates amplified her already inhuman strength. The neural plug in the base of her spine allowed her to unconsciously control the suit, it felt like nothing at all to fight in. A dark red cape whipped behind her snapping like whip. The helm she wore was blank and featureless, like a mannequin of death she climbed the hill. The defenses were set up well, they had time to prepare after all. Who really issues a warning of their own attack, Ridelia Otivus was already known to be an absolute monster in combat. She rounded a corner and caught three guardsmen by surprise, peppering them rounds from her heavy caliber pistol as one escaped she took two steps and launched her broadsword through the air, like a harpoon it stuck the man to the ground. She withdrew the blade from the corpse and tore into the next group. In her wake leagues of adjutants and techs followed behind high energy shields pulling the generators behind them like ancients would pull trebuchets. The massive generators were primarily to charge Ridalia’s suit, every six hours it would require upkeep and energy. No encounter with Ridelia had lasted past the first hour or two.
He turned his gaze from the slaughter and walked over to the large oak desk. He sat down and steepled his fingers, a lone tear streaked his face as he waited for her. The radio chatter was incoherent, complete chaos, he clicked it off and began to pour himself a drink. His life’s work was this bastion, his families wealth had gone into fortifying it and being one of the first six families to have a private army. His thoughts turned to said family and he finished his drink and reached for another. He was supposed to be happier, he thought about his youth at the academy there was a time he wanted to become a professional writer, he raised his glass and honored his youthful naivety. Was there no end to naivety, its as if all of life is struggling to know more, you can never have enough experience to be ready for your actual experiences. He thought about writing that down and musing on it later but his death was imminent, he leaned back and watched the sun set over the metropolis that his family had ruled over for almost three decades.
The double doors flew open and she silently strode into the center of the room, standing alone and gleaming in her battle armor, each piece shimmering in the setting sun like the reflections in a pool. He got up walked over to accept his fate. He tried hard to stare where her eyes were behind the featureless helm. “Why did you make me?” Ridelia towered over him and raised her sword above her head in two hands. “I killed them for you.” he whispered. The sword came down swiftly slicing him in two. Ridelia Otivus stepped over the corpse of her lover and looked out on all that was hers.