Gears caught each other in steel embraces as the motors of an old machine pulled at the very form of itself through the cold air of the morning.
Slowly the polished metal mechanisns turned and slid through themselves as its core thrust itself towards the dim lights of a world newly presenting itself.
The stones beneath its heavy metal gaite gave a rumbled welcome to its form. The lumbering monstrosity roaring itself towards the dawn.
From the purple misted pit it arose. A cloud of rotating machines all around it. Those machines all around it.
For sometime the cloud of purple was satisfied only to watch.
But, as the megalith reached the peak of its pit climb, the swirling force swooped in from all sides.
Hard collision wracking the megalith from side to side.
The sizzle of incinerating matter as the mist clung to the form of the ancient machine, was like the crackle of a fireplace.
The crackling roar, soft... and comforting.
The single creature sat at the centre of the machine screaming in a fit of pain and unbearable panic.
The fire of its rage, like a star glowing in its eyes.
The grand husk of a machine that carried it, erupting in fits and spats as its very hull crumbled beneath an ever unbearable assault.
But as the rough metal plating dissolved into the dark hard cloud, with wires and conduits rupturing in showers of orange and red sparked explosions, the last death-throws of the machine let loose its final sacrifice for its creator.
From its very core, a white flamed storm of pure electrical energy burst forth from every scar.
The roaring energy arcing through the fabric of reality and crescendoing into the misted conglomeration of purple.
The sizzling of machine ceasing instantly.
The cloud surging back and forth, falling in all directions like rain from heaven.
The power of the lightning, tearing into the very ground of the land, ripping it into a scarred ruin of its already ashen self.
Stray streaks of raw energy curving its way into the dark dense cloud, crashing with sparked fury into a colossal tower of overshadowing purple, that backed the pit like a great mountain backing a small pond.
The creature.
Sat in the midst of it's mechanical edifice, reached a cold scarred hand forth from its frothing metallic tomb, and pulled itself forward.
Outward.
The metal crumbling before its very hands as it rose forth.
From the machine, into a darkened rain of purple hail, pelting the blackened earth, meters below.
It fell from it.
Tumbling through the air head over heel.
Body crashing, collapsing onto the sharded scarred earth beneath it. Littered with rubble and purple.
Its heart.
Palpitating at a rate unspecifiable.
A realization of its life spared by a pure gift of fate, bringing its hands together to its face.
Its ached bleeding body arched onto its knees, and began to push itself from the purple matted dirt.
Bits of luminous machine clinging to its skin, and loose sack like robe.
Its whole form rising from the dirt, as its feet gripped the hot electric ground, its protector machine still arcing bolts of power off into the distant dawn.
Its shaking bones felt as toothpicks, joints clicking in place, muscles stretching out in all directions, as it woke itself into proper awareness from a long forgotten sleep.
This...
...is freedom...?
...Finally...
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Ciencia FicciónAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
