Left Behind - A Reclaimer Short

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Captain-Shawn
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Left Behind - A Reclaimer Short

Post by Captain-Shawn » Fri Jan 18, 2013 6:53 am

The sky held so many things to gaze at, even though it was all pale blue that day. Looking up the enormous space elevator that breached the blue sky could be seen a craft soaring ever higher until it was nothing. It could be chased by the naked eye for about a minute before it blinked into the mysterious and awe inspiring nothingness of space. In the end, it all seemed so peaceful, the green overgrowth on the buildings had a cozy feeling. A feeling of walking back through time, into a once glorious city, laying in the middle of history of days long since past. A shame to think, that merely a handful of years ago this city was once a bustling center of life and prosperity. Looking at the wound that knocked him on his back it wasn't as bad as he thought, no puncture in his suit, the plasma simply burned through sealing its entry point. The wound was probably the same way but he couldn't tell, nor would he be able to since he couldn't risk removing his suit.

Grabbing his particle rifle, the tall armor-suit wearing man arose from the ground, the sound of the mechanics and inner workings of the magnificent exoskeleton making a humming sound. Looking around him there was nothing but beaten up road for many blocks to his left, and the beautifully crafted entrance building to the space elevator to his right. The skies now sealed to him, he turned to his left and wandered down the street. Every now and then he could see skittering in the distance mechanical creations busily eating away at rusted cars. Playing it safe, the Man kept his distance from these machines, staying his path on the open road.

After an while of walking the man noticed a dimming on the city, and the orange haze of the a sunset alerting him to the time of day. This alerted him to the danger of remaining in the open, and he considered himself lucky nothing happened to him thus far. Moving quickly, the man made his way into what was probably once an apartment complex. Standing in a stairwell the man climbed the stairs until he reached the eighth floor, the highest he could get in the building. Looking out a window the man admired the view, the green overgrowth being contrasted by the glowing orange sunset and faint hints of grey concrete mixed into the pallet. It reminded the man of why he fought, and why he continued on. He fought to bring this world, his home, back to it's former glory and splendor. To reach this, he knew they had to reunite all of humanity, which in these dark times would not be difficult, the Man thought to himself.

As he stared on there was suddenly the sound of a woman crying out. Raising his rifle firmly in his hands, the Man feverishly poked his head out the window to see what caused the noise. In the dim light he saw a woman collapsed on the ground crawling away from a group of three men, each one more dirty and jagged than the last. They held a wide range of small guns in their hands. The tall Man could do nothing but watch what happened, the distance was too great and the light did not help matters. As he watched he could see the three men go down to the woman and do what he could only make out to be as tying her up. This held true when one lifted her onto their shoulder.

This made the man feel angry, this was not what he fought for. How could such things happen on this planet? To his own kind? Did the invaders really drive that much madness into the survivors, or was it simply that civilization could really degrade that fast? Whatever the answer he could not stand for this, and he quickly made his way down the hall, being sure to be as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone that might be nearby. He stopped short however when he saw a cloaked figure wielding a large rifle in his hands looking straight down into the street. The Man took a cautionary step back, and cringed at the sound of the rifle unleashing it's munitions. The Man could hear yelling, and carefully walked back to a window to see what had happened.

In the street the man carrying the woman had fell, and the other two were moving frantically about. As he watched, a painfully load sound rang out as the cloaked man only five feet away released another round. This time the Man saw one of the surviving ragged men drop to the floor, leaving only one to run wildly into the distance. As the one ran away, there was a loud thump over by where the cloaked figure was. The tall Man walked back over to see that there was a hole in the floor where the cloaked figure once stood, and in his search for the mysterious riflemen he noticed at the corner of his eye movement in the street. Looking out the cloaked figure met with three other figures, each one dressed in a half-similar fashion to one another. They all wore matching helmets and had similar armor on them. They released the captured woman, and seemed to offer her a weapon, possibly a shotgun. Though it was hard to see the Man could plainly see how badly the woman was shaking, and she barely could reach out to grab the weapon let alone hold it properly.

The small band eventually set off together with the freed woman trailing slightly behind. The Man watched as they walked off together, off into a building, then out of sight. Standing there he was glad there was still people with a sense of unity out there, maybe even society. Thinking on his own society, his people were very unified and close together, even if it wasn't always like that. It was by now that they recuperated from the shock of the invaders and set aside their petty differences that so nearly could've killed them all. The Man felt tired now, as well as a little dizzy. His suit wasn't working entirely right, and it was starting to show.

The Man climbed out to the roof of the building, by the time he go up there it was pitch black. He looked around the darkness to make sure he was alone and then laid on his back. Looking up at the stars he guessed at where his own family might be right now, maybe right in front of him, he just couldn't see them. Would they be worried about him? No, no one worries about those left behind, because those that are left behind are assumed dead. In that he found some comfort, at least he would not plague the minds of loved ones until they found him, they simply had the closure of death. He looked at the stars, at the moon, and couldn't help but smile. Though he laid on top of a building on his true home, the stars would always feel more like home.

Maybe it would be for the best if everyone felt that way, the Man thought to himself. Perhaps instead of spending time trying to take back what was lost, they should focus on making the most of what they have. Maybe it would finally end the conflict, and everyone could live in peace again. Maybe. He was starting to get a headache, so the Man stopped thinking and simply counted the stars. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…
"Why did the Necromancer kill everyone in the tavern? He wanted to raise the bar!"

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