| abstract
| - My name is Roniru. I am an Initiate of the Righteous Armies. I serve the Queen, and my loyalties belong to nobody but Her Majesty. My sword and pistol are hers. The only world I once knew were the beautiful, snow-capped mountains. There, it was quiet. Peaceful. But, the Queen has decreed that all over the age of 20 years must be outfitted with an Initiate suit, and be trained to wield the blade and pistol. I was only a humble Agori, and had no choice but to obey. As a humble Agori, I was ordered to step out of these sheltered mountains. As a humble Agori, I was ordered to take up my weapons, and fight against the enemy. Namely, the barbaric Raiders, the traitorous Exiles, and the scourge that call themselves the Blight. As a humble Agori, I was dragged from the “world” of solitude and quiet into the hellish, god-forsaken real world, the Eternal War. [A year later] No longer am I a wide-eyed, green-as-grass Initiate. My name is still Roniru. I am now a Sharpshooter of the Righteous Armies. I still serve the Queen. My rifle and blade will always be hers. The world I now know are the peaceful, pristine Niveus Mountains, the poisonous Blightlands, the choked, scarred Blasted Lands, and the desolate Volcanic Steppes. I would know. I’ve fought in all four of these places. Once, I would have knelt in the meadows watching the wind gently blow the flowers, and the clouds float by. Time would do what it did best. It passed. I now kneel in the steel bunker, triple checking my armour suit, the ammunition capacity of my sniper rifle, and the battery charge of my energy sword. “D Squadron! Sound off! Panoc!” “Ready for duty!” “Roniru!” I too shouted my loyalty to the Queen. The squad sergeant yelled out the names of eighteen other Sharpshooters, one of the names being Kagan, one of two male members of the unit, and one of my closer friends. I trust him with my life. A loud klaxon sounded, loud enough to be heard in hell itself, and Unit D ran sprinted forward, out of the so-called sheltered position of the bunker into the cracked, smoking battlefield. The Battle of Mount Atlas began. Guns rattled, and screams and the ziinggs of energy blades were all too easy to hear. In the distance, I could hear a repeated boom-zap. In any other ordinary circumstance, it could have easily been mistaken for a lightning storm. But, a war certainly didn’t fall under “ordinary”. That thundering sound could only mean tesla cannons, and tesla cannons meant Raiders. “Roniru! To the right front! We gotta hit their east flank to stem the Pyros!” someone beside me yelled straight in my ear. That would be Solas, another D Squadron member. She’s got lungs even the sergeant was envious of. Despite the screaming bit, she’s actually nicer than you think and is rather dependable. “Pyros” was short for “Pyro Guards”, a branch of elite troops that the Raiders had. They began popping up several thousand years back, and have stuck around ever since. They were equipped flammable blades and shoulder-mounted lava cannons. They were an absolute menace. With my back hunched and my shoulder guards digging into my neck, I hurried along. White shards of metal threatened to poke through the soles of my combat boots, and shrapnel flew above my head. I sincerely hope I’m wrong, but I suspect the white metal was from fallen Righteous soldiers’ armour. The ground was slightly greyed with aged machine oil, and the sky too was grey, as it had been for thousands of years. Seventy thousand years’ worth of grenade smoke and ashes tended to do that to an atmosphere. Kagan back-tracked a little to check up on me. I was lagging slightly behind. I’m pretty sure he was the only unit member who would have come back for little old me. He dug his fingers into my wrist and firmly pulled me along, despite the explosions that rained down beside him. He seemed oblivious to the bullets that were whizzing by, and he completely ignored the radiation that the Raiders’ ammunition often trailed. After a harrowing journey through the battered front lines, he and I joined the rest of the D squadron who were already hunkered down behind the carcass of a tank and a five-man thick row of Sentinels. Kagan and I followed suit. He then held up three fingers, while aiming his sniper rifle. Then two. One. In a single booming clap, Units A through to J fired a single volley of bullets, which shunted back the Raiders like God’s own almighty fist. I was pretty sure one of mine hit one of the Pyros straight in the head, but I could have been wrong. Chaos instantly reigned, and a shower of blood ‘n’ guts poured. The sequence of shots was repeated twice more. Accompanying the overture of rifle shots was a wonderful, yet heart-wrenching, lilting fugue of cries and shrieks of pain. This battle couldn’t get any better for the Empress’ Armies. Even the thundering of the tesla cannons had been silenced by the Seraph teams. Then a full platoon of Sabres pincered the Sharpshooter units and things got a LOT more complicated. The Sentinel lines nearby us were literally trampled over as the Sabres quickly advanced. And they advanced not just quickly, but quickly on cyber-steeds. What was a near-victory became a complete rout. My first instinct was to book it, but Kagan yelled for me to stand beside him. Thus, I drew my energy sword and fell into position. Then Kagan got shot in the chest, and things got WAY more complicated. I immediately whipped out my rifle and point-blanked the offending Sabre. Now, if you don’t know what a sniper rifle’s bullet does at a range of about a meter, allow me. A standard ballistic sniper bullet goes at 3000 feet each second. The standard Righteous ion-propelled bullet goes nearly 5000 feet a second. So, when the bullet I shot impacted on the Sabre’s face, the face disappeared. Heck, the whole head evaporated into a fine red mist. To be honest, there was nothing left of the Sabre’s torso except a whole lot of blood. I heard the clean “snick” the bullet made when it sliced through the Raider. It’s a memory that I never forgot, and I never intend to forget it. It was that day, when one of my only friends was slain on the battlefield, that I devoted myself to ridding the world of the Iron Tribes. The Raiders would pay. From Apex to the lowliest grunt, they would all pay. As the hoofbeats of the cyber-steeds eventually faded and the cavalry charge passed, what was left of the Sharpshooter Units picked themselves up, and hobbled back to base. Not only had the Sharpshooters suffered heavy losses, but there had been many Seraph and Absolver casualties as well. The dead were left to rot, though I did manage to find Kagan’s corpse and make a slightly teary salute. Solas limped over and put a hand on my arm. “Roniru, I saw everything. Kagan was a true soldier. It’s a terrible loss and he’ll be sorely missed, I’m sure.” I said nothing in return. Solas knew Kagan and I were close. So when I turned and stalked away with a gore-splattered rifle in my hands, all she could do was shake her head, and mutter, “Poor girl...” [A day later] I stood tall and proud on the marble pedestal as a medal for “bravery in the face of danger” was pinned on my lapel. I felt like a real heel when the medal got slapped onto me. The real hero was Kagan, not me. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been branded a coward. The fanfare of trumpets sounded and confetti flew in the air as the heroes of the Battle of Mount Atlas bowed once, and saluted. I too saluted, but there was no heart in it. There was cheering and yells from every single corner of the courtyard. However, everything from the blares of the trumpet to the quietest snuffle of the babies immediately fell silent as a tall, shining, regal figure stepped up to the podium at the north wing of the courtyard. With the sun shining behind her, one could have easily mistaken the newcomer for an angel. Whispers ran rampant through the assembled crowd. I myself couldn’t believe my eyes. A soft, melodious voice washed over the crowd. “My loyal subjects...” As one, the entire throng of Psionics Agori knelt, and every single soldier saluted smartly. I too joined in. My entire life thus far had been dedicated to the Empress, though I’ve never seen her before. A faint smile crept up on Empress’ face. “That will not be necessary.” The crowd did not budge, and the rigid poses of the soldiers didn’t move an inch. The Queen shrugged. “I came here personally to congratulate all of you, whether you are a soldier or not. Now is not the time to lose heart. The Exiles press ever closer to our beloved city, Ceventate, and the disease we call the Blight marches ever forward.” I actually hissed slightly when I heard the word “Blight”. They were disgusting, vile creatures that deserve to be shoved down the Jungle Lord’s as- “The Raiders are no different,” Empress continued, as her gaze panned across the hushed courtyard. A light breeze wound through the still kneeling crowd, gently setting flags fluttering and shreds of confetti dancing in the air. “We sheltered them when the Plague erupted, and now they press on our borders, intent on taking what we had so graciously offered to them. We saved them, and all they give back is death.” The Queen of the Righteous had the entire crowd on an edge, hanging on to her every word. “All of our foes have invaded our lands for their own selfish desires. They are a barbaric, heretic stain! A stain that must be withered away by our righteous fires!” The effect was instantaneous. The crowd erupted into cheers, and the nineteen other soldier with me did another smart stamp and formal salute. Solas was beside me, and she gave me a slight, knowing, nod. It was obvious to all the soldiers that the Queen had quite a bit of charisma. However, we soldiers can only take so much of her trash. We all knew half of her honeyed speech was Fader Bullcrap, but we smiled and waved to the crowd all the same. With that, the Queen turned around disappeared into the shadows, and a festive celebration was held right then and there, in the courtyard. Funny that. The Righteous didn’t even win the battle. At last, the ceremony was over. And thank the stars, my mouth hurt from smiling so much. Not to mention my arms. I don’t think I’ve ever waved this much in the span of just an hour. “Where are you headed to now, Roniru?” I laughed, but it was slightly hollow. “Home. I need a way to relax my jaw and aching wrist.” And to wallow in my self-misery, I silently added. My home is a small apartment in the downtown district. It was not the roughest place in town, but it was most certainly nowhere near comfortable. Fortunately, soldiers like me get plenty of experience being holed up in some ditch or tiny bunker anyway. The apartment consisted of just three rooms, a living area, a kitchen and a single bedroom. The living area was sparse and undecorated. A slightly threadbare couch dominated one side of the living room, while the the opposite wall was lorded over by a massive 70” television screen. A necessity in every household. But today I left the remote control where it was and ignored the food on the table. I walked into my bedroom and fell onto the bed. I cried myself to sleep. And in my sleep, I saw Kagan. He had a smile on his face. I laughed. And I ran towards him, but I never seemed to get any closer to him. Then, a whizzing sound. In a flash, Kagan was in my arms, once again bleeding, his life seeping away. Once again, he stopped a bullet meant for me. Once again, he died. I awoke in a cold sweat, the blank look on Kagan’s dead face still etched into my retinas. The dream made it clear. There was only one way to stop this madness: I was going to have to avenge Kagan myself. I don’t care how I was going to do it, but as long as killing as many Raiders as possible was part of the plan, I didn’t mind.
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