Jaxon RadioHead

Broken Promise

A colossal beam of energy erupted from the Terrible's maw, a blinding lance of dark pink light that ripped through the smoke and slammed into the war machine. The impact was instantaneous and devastating. Half of the machine simply ceased to exist, disintegrated into a cloud of superheated vapor.

The pale man, his scream cut short, dangled precariously from the exposed remains of the cockpit, the lower half of his body utterly gone. The Terrible, its dark pink eyes scanning the wreckage, let out a final, earth-shattering roar before the transformation began to recede.

Metal plating retracted, cybernetic enhancements dissolved, and fur receded back into skin. Within moments, the monstrous Terrible was gone, replaced by a groaning Jaxon sprawled on the bloodstained grass.

Ms. Bluu, fear etched on her face, scrambled to her son's side. Frantically, she checked for a pulse, relief washing over her as his heart thumped weakly against her fingers.

"Jaxon!" she cried, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and terror.

Jaxon's eyelids fluttered open, revealing ramnants a faint pink tinge in his irises, a subtle reminder of the monstrous power he'd wielded moments ago. "Mom?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

"Come on, we have to go!" Ms. Bluu urged, slinging him onto her back with surprising strength fueled by adrenaline. The smoke-filled air stung her lungs, the sounds of screams and chaos a horrifying symphony around them.

She sprinted towards her car, parked a block away, her legs burning with exertion. Reaching the vehicle, she shoved Jaxon into the back seat, buckling him in with shaking hands. Tears streamed down her face as she slid into the driver's seat, her gaze lingering on the devastation in the rearview mirror.

"Baby, are you okay?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Jaxon, still dazed, managed a weak nod. "What's going on, Mom?" he mumbled, his eyes widening as he took in the smoke billowing across the city and the panicked crowds running for cover.

"We'll talk later," Ms. Bluu promised, her voice strained. 

But the tremor in her voice betrayed the uncertainty etched on her face. She slammed the car into gear and sped through the smoke-choked streets, the monstrous transformation of her son and the chaos that engulfed their world heavy in her heart. 

The once familiar city streets now resembled a warzone, and Ms. Bluu knew their lives, and the world they knew, had been irrevocably changed. The question that gnawed at her was – for better or worse?

Ms. Bluu weaved through the chaotic city streets, police sirens wailing and fire trucks screaming in the opposite direction. The smoke from the park hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the destruction she'd just witnessed. A shrill ring pierced the tension – her Bluetooth. It was Gregory.

"Lisbeth, thank goodness you're okay!" Gregory's voice crackled with a mix of worry and something akin to excitement.

Ms. Bluu clutched the phone tightly. "I just saw one of those machines," she choked out, her voice raw with emotion. "It attacked us... it killed Taylor."

A beat of stunned silence followed. Then, "You mean the little white girl?" Gregory's voice held a tinge of something... satisfaction? 

Disbelief curdled in her stomach, a cold dread that threatened to overwhelm her grief. She glanced back at Jaxon, his face pressed against the window, his large eyes taking in the scene of panicked citizens. Her voice dropped to a fierce whisper. "Does it freaking matter? It was Jaxon's friend!"