You feel Alone, wishing you could forget everything that hashappened.

You wish to wake up from the horror of reality. To be togetherwith the ones you feel you used to know in the virtual space that was the onlyhome you’ve known.

The broken glass mocks you. You don’t have the fire within you tomock it back.

Myos felt something akinto lightning surge through him, flames racing up and over taking the armoredbody and enveloping his suit with their flickering glow. The armor reacted tohis body seamlessly, his attacks becoming more wild and aggressive as thefeelings of loss took over him. He no longer cared about the guards before him,around him, anywhere near him - they were as useless as a beetle beneath hisboot. He knew they had families, friends, lives separate from the control ofthe Empress, but he refused to care any longer. Blows that were once meant tomaim, now were aimed to kill.

Through his rage though,Myos began to pick up on something he hadn’t noticed before - the guards neveronce seemed to block themselves from his attacks. At first the ginger boythought it was because their weapons were too powerful for them, but nowthrough his rage induced clarity, he noticed they simply weren’t trying.

Look into their eyes.

The unforgettable textflashed across his screen and blocked his vision, and Myos had learned enoughby now to heed the more sensible words the pixilated font showed him. Taking ona defensive stance more than an offensive one, Myos begin to really look at theguards before him and almost dropped his weapon out of sheer horror.

The guards’ eyes wereblank pockets of color, small this lines like blocky rivers running throughthem like circuits on a motherboard. The eyes showed no light, no sense ofrecognition, and no awareness to the world around him. Myos and his friends hadnot been fighting the Empress’s guards, who were driven to fight them to defendtheir royal highness - they were fighting her slaves, programmed to do herbidding. That’s why they didn’t fight back. That’s why they didn’t care, didn’tknow, or think or feel or anything that anyone should have the right to do. Theyhad no choice but to fight Myos and his teammates, it was in their software todo so.

Myos felt sick withhimself. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen - he was supposed to be thehero. To save civilians and those unprotected from this. He wasn’t supposed tobe a villain. Myos looked away from the dead eyes that surrounded him, raisinghis arm towards the heavens like he did before the battle began and fired arocket shaped missile into the ceiling to get the attention of whoever wouldhear him.

“Just come out here! Iknow you’re in here Empress!” Myos yelled, gritting his teeth to keep the angrytears from spilling down his cheeks. His voice was slightly distorted by thearmor that surrounded him, but the desperate and powerful message was stillpresent.

Zeke stopped his firingto glance up at his friend, wondering what had caused him to cry out. All roundhim, much to both of their surprise, the guards they had been fighting fell tothe ground like lifeless puppets. Bodies upon bodies piled atop each other likea graveyard of dolls, a cemetery of humans that no longer had the capacity tothink or even move for themselves. The sight both sickened and strengthened theresolve in Myos, for he knew this was the fate he was trying to protecthumanity from. This hero would not falter, no matter what trials faced him.Yes, his hands were stained with the bright blood of the innocent people thatsurrounded him, but they were beyond helping. What mattered was the future.

“Are you ready to comeout now?” Myos taunted, waving his crossbow around with his sweeping handgestures. He waited. And waited. And waited - but no reply came. As he wasgetting antsy and bouncing around with adrenaline, a familiar font flashedacross the screen.

Ready or not, here I come.

After Myos had read thetext, he tilted his head in confusion, furrowing the patches of skin whereeyebrows should be. Then the entire floor opened up beneath them

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