the final Ark lunges heavenward from New Vladivostok, old school chemical rocket drubbing the gravity well. awkward blocky hope punching through the pillowed steel mesosphere ceiling. ash and snow churned in its wake. no small feat, with all the ground crews evacuated too. scientists, artists, laborers, engineers, farmers, women, and children...kernel enough to start over closer to the Core.
volunteer line held long enough, obviously, before gene raped and absorbed. Horde converged on the starport 31 hours past, soaking up ammunition and bravery...allowed to fester and corrupt too much biomass...the call for Warders went out too late...too numerous to break contact and run for the transport...too many toos
garishly mottled hides of the gestalts' individuals boil together beneath the plasmic window, piling atop the dead. eventually flopping onto the roof and into the concourse, presumptuously bellowing victory. Plasma projector's readout glows seven terawatts, and railgun counts 1.5 million flechettes. the deadman switch is rigged and tested, the settlers' dozen odd Tokomaks set to detonate when the last "human" life on the planet sputters out.
turning out the lights on another Horde overrun world...The soothsayer was right (as usual), totally called the spin of this wheel (lifestyle makes it too easy for her)..."cold, alone, without succor or companions". Just once, for that bitch Oracle to be wrong...not that I could have avoided Pasir Panjang, Camaron, Alpha Centauri, Hoth, or Shiroyama...
What's the feeling, transitioning into the Void, surrounded by some who possess a shared fondness for you? He says its different for those, the positive neutrinos swiftly accelerate the untethered soul to Peace.
Peace...that bait has dangled for eons, but we both know the Crafting renders me eternally Fallen. A CPA at Carnivale...a boilermaker at a fashion show...alchemist at NanoFair... In my Peace Her hazel eyes and impish smile would be waiting, sun streaming as our laughter mingled, I wouldn't have to unmake anything ever again...I'd be a fucking vegan, a Tai Chi instructor for senior citizens.
I always spend the last moments picturing Her and cursing Him...my own personal cliche.
and so the cobbled redoubts crumble beneath the Horde (as always). Plasma disassociates molecules, flechettes disassociate appendages and tentacles. I disable the fail safes...projector overloads with 1.3 terawatts remaining, vaporizing yours truly and 10,000 metric tons of Horde. planetwide, pinprick suns flare brilliantly, irradiated firestorms scourge the surface.
startled heaving breaths suck piney Asgardian air, too golden light sears new retinas, I enjoy the wampa furs on all new skin...until the Assigning...
another wheel, another turn...
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