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Post by Rundas on Jan 24, 2022 8:34:52 GMT
My name is. . . Blast.. How long has it been, since I've since used my name? No matter I am Elite Guard Aminos, that is the name my King gave me. Perhaps it is my real name. Perhaps it is a title. I don't remember. All I've known is protecting my King, and combat. The latter has been rather prevalent for my life, as of late. Normally I would relish in it if it was every so often, but battling for so long has become tiring, I am simply not at full strength, though maybe I have not allowed myself to. It is a difficult task keeping the Protectorate in line with some attempting to flee battle or attempting negotiations. Some even beginning to suggest mutiny. I don't understand. Why can't they fight for his Lordship? It is not the only question- I look to the enemy as I fight and a thought cannot help but wriggle itself into my mind.. Why did this war even need to start? The question plagues me even now. Maybe I can't understand. Am I an abnormality in the genecode of my kind? Perhaps.. But I cannot worry, even if it begins to slow me down. My king knows better than them.. He must know better.
Perhaps I have forgotten more than just my name, it has been so long. I look to the enemy human forces, and I am left wondering.. Jackson.. Are you among them? Do you remember me? Are you as plagued with questions as I? I doubt it, you seemed relatively content when fighting the steel-men. Perhaps you had a vendetta. Perhaps you did not care. Perhaps you saw them as soulless machines. Or maybe it has been so long, and you have retired on a beautiful world, free of conflict, sitting well among family near the end of your days. Will you die with me, friend? Shall we walk to the halls of the Above together? Or will I go to the Below, chained to suffer for my actions? . . It matters not. I know I am in the right, and that should be enough. It is heretical to even dare hesitate. Therefore I will not. While I will never be joyed by the matter of killing once-comrade Guardsman who dare doubt, who dare speak against his Lordship. But it is a task that must be done, for no other should have to.
I hear the calls, the General is commanding us to fight, yet I feel this will be my last battle, our objective one that could change the tide of the war. I exit my encampment after some thought, and regroup with the forces that have been put under my command. The enemy has adapted and made various bases on our world, an act that will not go unpunished if we are to succeed. I order my men to charge but move around their base, try to pincer and attack from two sides, create slides, shields, anything to enhance our speed but provide defensive options. I move to act, but I move only forward, only right towards them. I will take their fire, use all my abilities, push my abilities to the limit. Though the fogged ice blocks both our sight, I am certain their higher technology allows them to bypass this wall of smog.. But it is just enough for me to react. The first to come is their sniper rifle rounds, their tank rounds with only milliseconds to react at most. I can feel my brain strain as I focus my conjuring abilities, forming a slope beneath each round, as it scrapes just below enough to slide moving it ever so upward before sending it back at my enemy. I hear the distant sounds of explosions and anti-material rounds connecting with walls, but I am malcontent, doubtful that I had done any sort of meaningful damage. I cannot simply create constructs in their area yet, I am not in range to do so.
More and more of their weapons fire, rockets, bullets- It did not matter, though I barely managed, I still deflected them from my path, returning some over to my enemy- I believe some humans would call this "The Zone". I was barely thinking, my movements nigh-fluid and made only by instinct. Though slowly, I progressed forward. And then it hits me, like the Tar'kala Meteor. My concentration is broken, the images of those I horrifically and needlessly slaughtered had to kill by my King's orders. Doubt fills my mind. It is only at the sound of a bullet colliding against my armored hide that wakes me from my nightmare. How could I forget where I stand, I mustn't let it happen again. The fog slowly dissipates, my vision becoming more and more clear- I have the advantage.. I cannot lose this! I shroud myself in an armor made of ice for another layer of protection, and with my cryokinesis it is like I wear nothing over me at all. I retain my focus as more deadly arms near. The sound of their flyers rings in my auditorials turning my back to where I hear it- It's guns echoed in the open air as it had begun firing a stream in my direction, redirecting it back at the enemy. No- That is not enough, I form several shards of ice in the air near my left hand, before launching them into the vehicle's glass, the machine crashing into the soft snow before exploding in fire.
Though it has felt like but a few seconds, I feel as though I should have heard their fire aimed elsewhere- My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of snow moving aside, armored warriors, their equipment clearly superior than the common grunts I have seen before- Yes, it was the armor of the ÆSIRs. I knew them to be much faster than I already, even as it felt like they moved ever so swiftly as things remained in slow motion.. But not all constructs needed the movement of my physical body. In front of them I create a wall, though they simply move around, it is enough, even just a second, as I raise my arms, and push the snow from the solid rock below, the pieces of the walls flying into those not fast enough to get out of the way, and the snow enough to temporarily blind them. I form a single, large shard of ice in my fingertips, tossing it into the torso of one of the supersoldiers with a unsatisfying squelch and burst of blood. I am not done, turning to one behind me as they begin firing upon my back, swinging my arm upwards in their direction I create a sharp line-like wave of ice at them, conjured fast enough to cut off the bottom half of their knee. If I had paid them mind I might've heard their screams but all I hear is muffled static. My brain begins to strain further as I form further constructs, my mind beginning to crack. My legs begin to shake and buckle, my exhaustion has brought my limit but I refuse to fall.. It is only when a singular sniper round enters my right calf that I finally fall.
I hear the broadcast, it comes from the kingdom.. "To all Protectorate Forces, cease your actions immediately.. We are surrendering. We have lost. Take it with dignity. Your king.. Your king decrees it." As his words echo into my auditorials I am left shocked. My mind even as it struggles to return to a normal, steady pace, is going haywire.. It plagues me again, but far more simply.. Why? Why?! WHY?! W H Y ? ! It hits me. I remember, all that we have stood for. I remember the wars my king requested I get involved in. War is not a battle. It is a conflict of beliefs. Those who falter, those who surrender, never believed in what they stood for. A belief is something to die for. To bleed for. All the death- All of the suffering.. To surrender, that would mean those who died, those who were sacrificed, meant NOTHING, for both us, and the rebellion. But they meant something. They were parents. Warriors. Workers. They have value. And as a warrior, I am to HONOR the fallen. I am to guard the King. And if my King is to betray what we stand for, then the people are my King- And to respect my King, I must become something more, and fall.
My mind thinks back to my son. A good child, but he does not have the mindset to become an Elite Guard. Rather, I dream of him becoming a scholar. An idealist. However good or bad, that is. I do not recall playing with him much, but I remember seeing his training, even being so lucky to see him playing with the children of my brothers. I remember the first time I had speaken to him in years..
He says, "Papa, can you come here?" I thought him a minor nuisance at the time, I cared not for what he wished for I had better things to do, after all, but a part of me convinced myself to listen. I knelt to hear his words. "Yes, child?" I asked putting as much respect in my tone as possible. Yet what followed shook me. ". . .You're gonna die, papa.. I don't want you to die." What am I to say? What could I have said? What should I worry more for? My apparent death, and thus being no longer able to serve my king- Or my child's clear fear of death over a loved one who does not deserve him.. "Fear not death. It is as apart of life as breathing in the air." My words were not comforting him, so I held his arms with my hands. "Son. I hear you never break a promise, yes?" He nods at my response, as he tries desperately to control his sadness. "Then promise me, Rundas. Promise me you will not fear death, and as such, you will cherish life. Can you do that?" He swallows his despair, and speaks normally again. "I promise, papa." I press further. "You swear on your hearts?" He responds, slowly resoluting himself "I swear on my heart!" Feeling confident at my child's swearing, I stand "Then I ask only that you live on when we're gone. Do not carry weight that was never yours my son."
No more justification. No more lying. I will carry my death like a warrior.
I seal the wound on my leg with ice, managing to stand to my full height. I can hear those who were once my allies, begging me. Ex-Elite Guards, Protectorate Forces, even my enemies are asking I lay down and surrender. I cannot stop now. It is too late. I roar at the top of my lungs, my vocal cords straining and snapping from the intensity. For once I feel anger. I scream at them "Traitor" in our language.
I am Run'vaw, the Cold Wind of Destruction.
I raise my hands to the air, lifting the ÆSIRs upwards by concentrating ice particles on their armor, condensing them all into one singular blood ice block. My brain is frying, the stress killing each and every cell in nanoseconds. I don't have long- I create a ring of haze around me moving it faster and faster around me, forming ice blocks inside, before thrusting it forward, creating a shockwave of ice at the base, hitting a many of the soldiers, but dealing minimal damage to their heavier vehicles. Around me I can see them pushing me from all sides, and with a fractured thought I conjure cracked hands made of ice. With one wave I create a giant pile of snow by concentrating the cold water particles, before slamming it on top of some of them. I thrust my two normal hands to the sky as my enemies move closer and send large chunks of ice down from the sky, passively using my mind to create them and allowing them to fall as if they were but hail. I slowly feel my memories begin to fade- A sacrifice I am willing to make. One of the Sangheili moves in with their blade- In a battle of only skill and physical attributes, we are around the same skill level.. If I was not considering every other factor. I use one of my conjured ice hands to grasp the wrist holding his energy sword, it's form cracking as he pulled against it, even breaking it in a few seconds. But it was enough, as I shoved a shard into his throats, swinging my arm at an ÆSIR rushing into close combat towards me, conjuring a wave of ice to at the very least trip him.
He leaps forward, lifting his legs into the air avoiding my attack, aiming his shotgun for my head, but another of my ice hands is able to push it out of the way. He reels his arm back to send a punch for me. I expect to be able to stop it.. I underestimated both their speed, and strength, as I fail to stop his strike, his added momentum sending me to my back as I could feel it crack against my head, though protected by my ice armor, the inertia is too much. My brain further suffers, my cognitive thoughts beginning to only be filled by instinct. My constructs soon fade, my armor my mind is no longer capable of maintaining any of my mental abilities. I do not go down yet, slamming a hand to the snow, as I lunge towards the ÆSIR, slamming a fist into their helm. The bullets and energy shots of his allies collide with my body- The kinetics barely scathe me, but the plasma burns. I do not care. I will hold out as much as possible. Next I move to another Sangheili, fist moving to swing, only to be stopped by a Jiralhanae, grabbing me by the forearm, only to slam their fist against my cranium.. I fall to my knees.
I feel like a machine out of fuel. My brain practically mush. My memories almost entirely gone. I can barely move my limbs now. My last thought, all that my brain is capable of seeing.. Is a future. I see him. I see him happy. I see my son fighting for good. I see him fighting like a warrior but still trying to be a good man.
And I feel reborn.
The remnants of my brain goes into overdrive, unleashing all at my disposal. I can feel my new source of fuel- My very soul. I create a shockwave around me, ice emerging from the floor within 2 kilometers, my nerves and bones being transformed to ice, I begin to stand, yet I do not feel in control. My mind wanders to the ship still in orbit- My people waiting to reclaim their home and rebuild. I wish--
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