How far would you go to NEVER fail again?
This question will push Noche L. Grim to the test as she attempts to join the Cross Military. With their resources she intends to find DeathTech and recover her memories.
However, when she lives on a conti...
Debris flew everywhere. The explosive force flung the mother and daughter backward as they were bombarded by chunks of brick, splintered wood, and bits of metal shrapnel. Both their ears were ringing and only tinnitus could be heard. With the floating dust and insulation particles, their eyes were aflame and itched; they were nearly impossible to open. The foul smell of burnt fiberglass and plastics intermingled with freshly upturned dirt, burning wood, and faint sea-salt air.
Gradually, the chaos ended. The child managed to open her eyes and see the destruction laid out before her. The girl's tiny body trembled from the sight — eyes dilating as she held her breath. Fire and smoke had replaced the lighthouse. Her sanctuary was gone. Now rubble on the ground.
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From the corner of her eye, the little girl noticed flickering sparks. Turning her gaze downward, she saw her tiny night light snapped in two. Tears welled up rapidly, but before she could shout, her mom yanked her up and rushed out of the burning bedroom.
The acrid smoke burned the little girl's throat as the mom staggered her way through the blackened clouds. The front door slammed open. Bodies heavy and burned, both mother and daughter took in lungfuls of fresh air. Once the little girl regained her vision, she couldn't believe what she saw. Flames, the entire island was in flames.
Her motionless mother didn't notice when the child turned her tear-stricken face from the safety of the shoulder. Glancing upward, she noticed the swirling vortex of crows flying high above. They flew under the smoke covered sky; its tranquil navy-blue replaced by hellish black. Reapers of death, they circled above the duo with gazes looming ever closer. To the little girl they were darkness itself, coming to take her.
The little girl shook uncontrollably, harder than she ever had before. Despite the flames, goosebumps formed on her clammy skin while cold seeped into her bones. She tightened her tiny grip onto her mother's dress until her fist went white. Burying her head back into her mom's shoulder, she was unable to move any further despite her best efforts. A gentle, yet firm, grip tightened on the back of her head. Then they lurched forward as the yard raced behind them. The girl saw a blur of anchors, nets, buoys, and fishing rods flash past her as the mother ran.
The island was an endless inferno, a ring of flames clawed at the sky, almost as if engulfed by hell itself. Her mom had to use Create multiple times to clear a path with water. An inescapable miasma of burning fish filled the air as they ran. Finally, they made it to the edge of the village. The docks were just around the corner. While the mom cautiously peered around, the child managed to pry her eyes away for just a moment.
Perched on a ledge nearby, the gaze of a crow drilled into the soul of the little girl. Electricity shot through her entire body. Then it was replaced with a block of ice. She couldn't move. The lead weight in her stomach sank lower and lower. All she could do was gaze back into the dozens of unnatural rings in that entity's vibrant yellow eyes. It watched her silently... Almost angrily. Her skin pricked as an ominous wave washed over her. Drowned her. She was utterly helpless as the sense of impending disaster bombarded her from every angle.
Suddenly, her mother ran around the corner and headfirst into the barrel of a rifle. She stood motionless. The girl looked down and through the smoldering smoke saw a lump on the ground. It was a familiar form with several crows perched atop it. Then one of the crows plucked something shiny off it. The girl realized why the form looked so familiar when the eyeball, in the crow's mouth, was left gazing at her direction.
Terror washed over her as she recognized the painter's crumpled corpse. She stared into the eye of the dead painter. The crow quickly swallowed it and she was left to gaze into its eyes instead. Dark as the abyss, she tumbled and fell into their endless void. She trembled, staying silent as the grave.
Standing above both mother and daughter appeared to be a person clad head to toe in heavy armor. Garbed in death was a behemoth of a soldier. Most eye catching was the armor itself, pitch black with highlights of fiery orange. Such a stark contrast only amplified the expression of dread on the ghastly faces borne upon this armor.
On the knee-guards were the pain-wrought faces of people in agony. So intense that the skin of their cheeks were ripped to reveal the teeth hidden behind. Tormented beyond human recognition, almost as if melting from the fire themselves, these faces were locked in time during their most tortured moment.
The helmet itself had great demonic horns, an alarming orange visor long as a snake's fangs, and shrapnel-like jagged teeth of an upper jaw where the wearer's chin should be. Finally, the simplest face was on the chest. It was a vivid static-screen white, with an arrangement of teeth visible within its melancholic screaming mouth and tear stained eyes; it was also the largest.
Lug nut bolts dug deep into the armor from the top of the shoulders. This made it appear as if the armor was permanently fused into this person's body. Their forearm-guards turned into long spikes beyond the elbow. Various wires attached these forearm-guards directly into the flesh of the biceps, piercing the ballistic fibers. Finally, this soldier was outfitted with many grenades, a knife, pistol, wrist-mounted grappling hook, and of course the rifle still aimed at the mother's head. As she stood there motionless, the soldier slowly began to draw out the knife from the sheath on its back.
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