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*Third Person POV*
A sleek, matte-black VTOL touched down with precision on the landing pad, its engines hissing as they cooled. The moment the ramp extended, a man emerged, his steps exuding confidence and regalness.Â
Anton Volkov moved with the quiet authority of a man accustomed to power, his posture unwavering, his light blue eyes holding the depth of a century and a half of experience. Though he appeared no older than a man in his late thirties, there was something in the way he carried himself, something timeless, something unshaken by the weight of years.
The landing pad was attached to the upper levels of Volkov Inc.'s towering headquarters, a monolithic structure of obsidian glass and reinforced steel that loomed over the cityscape of the capital of the Aurolia, Auror.Â
The artificial glow of the Arterian Empire's capital shimmered below, but Anton had no interest in a view he had grown bored of. His long coat billowed slightly as he strode toward the entrance, the soft whirring of security drones scanning him before silently granting access.
Inside, the corridors were pristine, lined with seamless panels of dark metal interwoven with thin veins of light. Employees in immaculate uniforms stopped their conversations and straightened the moment they saw him, their gazes lowering instinctively.Â
Some offered quiet greetingsâ"Good morning, Lord Volkov," "An honor, sir"âbut he paid them no mind. He did not slow his pace, did not acknowledge their deference. Time was a resource too valuable to waste on pleasantries.
The doors ahead slid open before he even reached them. He passed through hallways lined with interactive holo-screens displaying corporate reports, financial projections, and security feeds. Executives and analysts stepped aside as he approached, their conversations halting mid-sentence, waiting for him to pass before resuming in hushed tones.
As he entered the high-speed lift, the glass walls provided a sweeping view of the megacity belowâneon-lit streets winding between towering structures, airborne traffic weaving through designated skylanes. But Anton did not glance at the spectacle. He simply placed his palm against the biometric scanner, and the lift surged upward, the motion so smooth it was almost imperceptible.
The doors slid open at the apex of the headquarters, revealing a long corridor leading to the conference room. Here, the air was heavier, the presence of power more palpable. The guards stationed outside did not question his approach; they merely bowed their heads in silent respect before stepping aside.
Anton entered the room with walls that were lined with panoramic windows. A long, polished obsidian table dominated the center, with eleven high-backed chairs already occupied. The other heads of the Volkov family all turned as he arrived.
Without speaking a word, Anton took his seat and the doors sealed shut behind him.
The room was heavy with silence as eleven pairs of eyes bore into Anton, but he remained composed, his expression unreadable. At the head of the table, seated in the highest chair, was Mikhail Volkov, the eldest among them and the true patriarch of the Volkov family. A man whose age surpassed even Anton's, yet whose presence still commanded absolute authority.
Mikhail leaned forward, placing his clasped hands on the obsidian table. His voice, though calm, carried an edge sharp enough to cut steel.
"We have a problem."
A flick of his wrist activated the holo-display embedded in the table. The room dimmed as a projection materialized in the center. The footage was grainy and unstable as if deliberately distorted to avoid tracing. Despite this, the image it displayed was unmistakable.
A dimly lit, cold metal room. A single chair at its center. Bound to it was Valina Volkov, Anton's daughter. Her pilot suit was torn, her face bloodied and bruised. Her breathing was ragged, her blue eyes turned red and yellow from trauma. And before her stood a man, a ghost from the past, twisted into something far worse.
Aspen Del Santo.
Or what remained of him.
The left half of his body had been replaced with cybernetics, the sleek metal glinting under the harsh lighting. His mechanical hand wrapped around a cruel-looking instrumentâone that was currently pressed into Valina's shoulder, drawing another agonized scream from her lips.
But it wasn't her that he was truly focused on.
The camera angle shifted slightly, revealing Ajax, restrained against the far wall. His face was contorted in horror, eyes darting between Aspen and his lover.
"Stop this, Aspen," Ajax's voice cracked with desperation. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you, justâ"
Aspen cut him off with a low, bitter chuckle.
"What I want, Ajax? What I wanted was to wake up to my daughter's laughter. To see them run to me from their mother's arms when I got home." His voice was cold, devoid of mercy. "But I don't get what I want, do I?"
He straightened, his mechanical fingers flexing before a punch was sent into Valina's side, making her convulse as another scream ripped from her throat.
"Just like you didn't stop when they begged."
Ajax recoiled, his breathing erratic. "I- I had no choice, Aspen. Youâ"
"No choice?" Aspen's voice rose, the metal in his throat distorting it slightly. He took a slow step toward Ajax, each motion deliberate, his cybernetic eye glowing a hateful crimson.
"I was your brother, Ajax. Your brother!" His voice cracked, but there was no hesitation, no forgiveness behind it. "How many times did I stick my neck out for you? How many times did I fight for you and protect you, even when it meant going against my better judgment? Hell, I even ended my career for you."
Aspen shook his head, his jaw tightening. "And youâ" he pointed a trembling, metallic finger at Ajax, "youâsold me out. You butchered my family, let them burn everything I cared about to the fucking ground. And for what? Because you were fucking jealous that I got with the woman you were never man enough to talk to? To prove yourself worthy of them? Of this bitch?"
His gaze flicked to Valina, who was barely holding herself together, her breath shuddering in weak gasps. Aspen exhaled sharply.
"You and I grew up together, Ajax. From a young age we both knew what the Volkovs do. How much suffering they cause. We fucking lived it." His tone darkened. "We and many others suffered because of them. And yet, instead of standing by my side as I fought back, you went off and became their lapdog, their plaything, their toy."
Aspen reached down, gripping Valina's chin with his cybernetic hand, forcing her to look at her lover.
"Say something to him, Valina. Let him know how this feels."
She coughed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, but she said nothing.
Aspen sighed. "That's fine. I don't need you to say anything. Your silence is loud enough."Â
Without warning, Aspen pulled out his pistol with his human right hand and aimed it at Valina's head.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
*Boom*
A single gunshot rang out, and Valina's head flicked to the left, her body going momentarily stiff before slowly slumping in the chair. Blood and bits of brain matter painted the wall behind her.
Ajax screamed in agony before going mad.
"You know what! I enjoyed every single fucking second of killing your daughters. Skinning them alive brought me so much joy, I should have-"
Aspen didn't allow him to get another word in before he commenced a beating on Ajax with his fleshy right hand. Every few punches, blood could be seen splattering up, and even a bit landed on the camera lens.
Aspen then picked up Ajax's body with ease and threw it on top of Valina's. He then continued to beat Ajax while pushing Ajax's mouth into the gaping hole in her head. The gory sight sent shivers down the backs of those watching in the conference room, and pain could be seen starting to morph on Anton's face.
He had just witnessed his daughter being killed brutally and her lover being brutally beaten over her corpse.
Aspen then proceeded to stomp on Ajax's leg, breaking it at the shin before proceeding to break more bones. Ajax could only whimper in pain, unable to talk due to the beating. Aspen dragged Ajax's almost lifeless body to the camera. His face was all bloodied and disfigured de to the bumps accumulated from the trauma.
Dragging him by the hair, Aspen then handed him off to 2 guards who had walked into the frame of the camera.
"Drag him to the regeneration pods. Everyone is going to get their fair share of him before I put the bastard down."
After a few seconds of standing there, Valina's corpse shifted a bit, and the face morphed into that of another woman, one of the captured female pilots of the FOB. A sigh of relief escaped Anton's mouth, and the 2 guards came back into the frame carrying a struggling Valina. They threw her to the ground before dragging the lifeless corpse out of the camera view, leaving Aspen massaging his knuckles with Valina on the ground next to him..
He grabbed Valina by the hair, dragged her close to the camera, and spoke.
"I never would have imagined myself beating up on a woman, but you know, certain situations lead to certain actions. Now, I haven't killed Valina Volkov yet, as you can see, I'm just trying to break Ajax's psyche at the moment. This recording is a call to arms to all those who have been oppressed by many of these corporate fucks for ages."
"Now, not all of them are bad, but some of them certainly are, with this bitch right here being one of them. I have been given a second shot at life after she plunged her spear through my mech and as you can see, made me half the man I was."
Aspen chuckled at his bitter joke.
"Now my only purpose in this universe of depravity and pure evil is to rid it of these fucks. I've thrown away my previous identity, but for those of you who might be interested in who I was, my name is Aspen. Aspen Del Santo. One of the 3 mech pilots who had been revealed to have had Omega Tier potential."
"I never achieved such heights due to the fact that I threw my career away for my wife and daughters⊠but they're no longer here. So I am returning to this universe that only breeds death and destruction with the single purpose of ridding it of all evil. I will be seen as a devil, an even worse evil, maybe even a necessary evil, but I do not care."Â
"The innocent will come to see me as the angel of salvation, you evil oppressing fucks will see me as death incarnate. But I'm just your humble, friendly intergalactic Reaper. And I will stop at nothing until all who deserve death have received it."
After he finished speaking, the screen faded into black before slowly revealing a starless, void-like sky where only a sliver of a blood-red moon casts its dim light across a desolate landscape.Â
Empty, decaying cities were scattered across the horizon, their silhouettes faint and barely distinguishable against the backdrop of endless night. The camera slowly zooms in on an ancient, crumbling statue of a warrior, the figure of a once-proud man now weathered and broken, his sword pointed downward.
As the first somber notes of a piano echo softly, a mist begins to rise, swirling around the statue like a breath of lost souls. The camera panned down, revealing the figure of the Reaper, a tall, cloaked figure whose face is obscured by shadows. He stands still in the distance, his hands gripping a massive, bloodstained scythe. Lightning flickers in the distance, casting brief flashes of harsh light on his form, showing the cybernetic limbs that replace what was lost.
The camera followed the Reaper's slow, deliberate steps through a ruined, empty town. The streets were littered with the wreckage of old mechs, broken buildings, and the remnants of a society long fallen. Faint whispers of the oppressed and the suffering echoed through the empty streets, as if the winds themselves carried the cries of the past.Â
Then, a sweet, melodious woman's voice started singing softly, accompanied by the soft chords of an acoustic guitar. The Reaper walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Each step left behind cracks in the ground, glowing faintly with blue energy as if the earth itself recoiled from his presence. He passed lifeless corpses, their faces twisted in agony, their bodies marked with signs of tyranny.
"Hush, my child, the winds do wail,
The night is thick, the stars are pale.
Once he stood in golden light,
A warrior pure, a soul so bright."
The Reaper paused at the center of a broken square, raising his scythe toward the heavens.Â
"He cried to the gods, to heavens wide,
His voice was lost, his tears had dried.
Yet only one had heard and took his handâ
YAHWEH spoke, He made His stand."
The dark sky above rippled and cracked, revealing flashes of divine lightâYAHWEH's presence breaking through the darkness. The divine light illuminated the Reaper from behind, casting long shadows across the desolate ground, hinting at the celestial power and higher purpose that now guided him.
In the background, the ghostly figures of the innocent and the oppressed rose from the ashes, their faces serene but sorrowful. Their glowing forms danced around the Reaper, following him like a spectral procession.
The camera shifted to the wicked, showing the figures of the tyrants of this universe, cowering behind crumbling walls and broken fortresses, their eyes wide with fear as they heard the distant rumble of thunder. Their dark silhouettes, distorted by shadows, trembled under the weight of the coming judgment.
The woman's singing paused momentarily as the song's mood grew heavier and the visuals became more visceral. The Reaper stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a vast, broken battlefield littered with the remains of fallen soldiers, mechs, and cities.Â
The camera shifted downward, revealing an image of the Reaper's hand, slowly gripping his scythe as if preparing for a final blow. The wind picked up, sending swirling ashes and embers into the air, dancing in the light of the distant fires as an angelic yet thunderous voice spoke.
"Rise, My blade, My judgment pure,
Go forth in wrath, make justice sure.
For those who weep, for those who pray,
Let sinners taste the price they pay."
Then the guitar stopped and only the piano's haunting melody played. The camera zoomed in on a single child, curled up in the shadow of a ruined building, staring up at the Reaper. Their eyes are wide, full of hope and terror.
The woman's voice sang again, sounding envigorated and drawing out certain words.
"Now daaaark he waaalks where light once shoooneeeeee,
With hoooly fire, with heaaart of stoneeeeee.
No merrrcy left for those who craaaaveee,
To bind, to break, to rule as slavessss."
The imagery changed as it was replaced with actual battle footage of the attack on the FOB. The battle scene was chaotic, the mechs of the Volkov's fell and were destroyed. Overwhelmed by the might of Aspen's army of mechs.
Combat footage from one of the Apostles of life captures Aspen's entry into the battle, crushing 5 mechs with his fall alone. The enemy stopped firing for a second and everyone stared as the woman's singing slowed and her voice became almost a whisper.
"Oh, tyrants pale, oh, sinners drown,
Your thrones will burn, your walls fall down.
For none escape the call of rightâ
The Reaper wakes and rules the night."
As the song faded, the image shifted to the sun rising, captured by Nyx's optics. The quiet of the battlefield, the charred remains everywhere. The image zoomed out with wires shown and black metal as if zooming out through Nyx's frame. As the sun slowly rose, Nyx was in the air with Aspen sitting on her shoulder, their back to the viewer, overlooking the destruction they had brought.
The camera pulled back slowly as Nyx's glowing golden optics slowly faded in over the previous view, and a robotic voice spoke in unison with Aspen's:
"Your lies and sins, I've seen them all,
From deep within you caused your fall.
For now, you bide your fleeting time,
But when I come, you'll wish to die."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The projection flickered off, and Mikhail's steely gaze shifted toward Anton.
"This is being spread across the dark side of the net," Mikhail stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "Someoneâmany someonesâwant us to see this. To know what has been done." He leaned back, his fingers steepled. "This is an attack, Anton. Not just on our family. On power, on our conglomerate, on all of us who control the lives of these measly people who are only alive because of us."
Anton's expression did not change, but beneath the table, his fingers curled slightly. A storm brewed behind his eyes, though his voice remained level.
"Who released it?"
"We don't know," another voice spoke. "It's been bouncing across encrypted channels, making it impossible to track its origin. But the message is clear." His lip curled. "Aspen Del Santo is alive. And he's declared war⊠on everyone."
Another beat of silence.
Mikhail exhaled slowly. "So, Anton," he said, voice heavy with expectation. "What are you going to do about it?"
The table's eyes were on him again, waiting. Judging.
Anton reached for the glass of water before him, taking a slow sip before setting it down with deliberate care. Then, at last, he spoke.
"I will handle it."
His voice was calm yet shaken. But there was no mistaking the promise of death beneath his words.
Suddenly, the door opened, and one of the guards walked in, handing Mikhail a datapad.
"Sir, you're not going to like this."
Word Count: 2985 Words đ
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