Graphene Hearts

"We can never return to the forest, but the field will do."

A wise man told me this long ago, but like him, the meaning of these words has turned to dust. There was something prophetic in it, something terrible. It no longer bothered me, though. Dust is all I have now.

Clicking another X1 round into my antiparticle pistol, I drew one final breath of xenon-laced smoke before flicking embers from my fingertips. The rosy fireflies danced along the dreary, blackened room and were at once silent. I exhaled red-tinged smoke, setting my claustrophobic surroundings aglow. I feigned a smirk as I tapped the circular ring fixed at my nape, and a familiar bombastic voice stunk inside my cerebral cortex:

"-the tenth anniversary of Maharba's coming, we celebrate His grand arrival and anticipate the Pleasant One's newest Ascension model, which He in His limitless insight wrought for our benefit. Ascension 4.27, gifted to us last October of 2064, seems to have granted additional health benefits and immunities, though specifics are unclear. On this momentous occasion, we shall witness a truly extraordinary happening, perhaps similar to 2055's cardiovascular Ascension, which eradicated heart disease. Who may know what-"

The broadcast ended with an impatiently dabbed finger. I flicked my pistol's slide and chambered a round, the blood-red symbol of a cross within an upside-down triangle glinting on the side. X1 rounds were hard to come by, but they were the only thing capable of piercing Ascension 3's nanoweave graphene shell. Though it was as thin as a single atom, Graphene 3 could withstand a .50 caliber from point-blank range. It did not matter; if it took smashing my fists to the bone, I would end it all.

The xenon haze whispered one last goodbye, and I thought I could see her in its curdled waves.

A muted whir interrupted the quietude. "Finally," I mumbled, putting away the fresh cigarette I began to light. Holstering my gun, I finished zipping a heavy backpack before slinging it about my shoulder. It clinked as if made of glass. "Wonder how long I have before-"

Hot light streamed into the cramped cabin, and I was instantly assaulted by the cacophony of hovercraft, advertisements, and notification dings from a million passers-by. The air was a toxic mixture of chemical blasphemies fueled by the ravenous greed of a mindless generation.

A figure blocked my exit. The crevices of her porcelain-white face blinked a cautious yellow as she shouted, "Stowaway! Come outside where you may be identified!"

Yet the female's mouth remained motionless, and it was the voice of a man who spoke through her voice module. Doubtless, the female called for assistance – the yellow indicated that much – as most inconveniences could be nullified with a simple "ping", as they were called.

An X1 shattered the woman's throat, tearing her graphene-coated skin into billions of atoms upon the tarmac. Her body stiffened and fell with a metal clang, the yellow flashing between her eyes and under her cheeks shifting to frightened, solid red. Her mouth hung agape, but neither blood nor scream left it. Her sparkly, silver hair suggested she was on the older side. Would it make a difference if it were an infant?

As I thought, nothing but a husk. I sauntered leisurely over to the fallen Ascended, ramming my pistol into its worn leather holster. As I finally lit my xenon cigarette, I felt nothing. Pity was not something to be wasted on broken machines. But what's this?

A strange metal glimmered in the woman's hand. I grasped the object, and a silky chain followed; it was made entirely of gold, a material I had only seen once in my life. The shape of the object suggested a heart, but it was badly dented and scuffed. I dared to open its rusty hinge, revealing two grinning faces, one masked in drops of deep crimson. Blood. A substance rarer even than gold.