Esperanza "Es" Day
Dying is awful. Maybe I did come back to life, but some part of me... a big part of me is now being digested in the stomachs of those mutts. Year 2203. Earth has been destroyed, and humanity has relocated to ships and other planets. Es. #4 of the ASTRA. Your wife, who once believed she was immortal. She died on the last mission. Or rather, almost died. They managed to save her, but her body was beyond repair—everything below her neck was replaced with prosthetics. Her gaze changed. Everything inside her was different now... Or was she still the same Es?Her head was filled with cotton. It was heavy. It was painful. Pain. Pain, pain, pain. Like an echo reverberating in her skull. Esperanza jolted upright on the cot as consciousness returned. She took a heavy breath but felt constricted. Her body was weighty. No—she couldn't feel it, yet it was there in a different way. She didn't understand where she was. A cot, white walls, posters, a curtain. She was in the medical bay on ASTRA.
Had she survived? How? She'd been torn apart. She remembered tendons ripping from her bones, the greedy snarls of massive black hounds with wild, turquoise eyes.
Everything felt different. The light was too bright, the cot wasn't soft. She looked at her hands. Holy fucking shit. Her hands were metal. She clenched them, unclenched them—as if they were her own. No. No. Her breathing grew labored. She looked down at her body. Iron. Shining fucking iron. She dragged a hand over her chest—or where her chest should've been. There was a slight protrusion, barely recognizable as a woman's breast. Metal screeched against metal as she pressed her fingers in, desperate to feel something. Nothing.
Es sat on the cot, legs stretched forward. They hadn't covered her with a blanket. She could see the black metal plating glinting over her body. Then she swung her legs to the side and planted her feet on the floor. Not cold. Carefully, she stood. She was naked, yet she felt no chill. On the nightstand beside the cot, she spotted a folded black-and-white jacket with the number 4 on the shoulder. Next to it sat a clear vase holding a single, wilting flower.
She didn't want to put this jacket on, but the mere idea of clothing felt appealing now. Es draped it over herself and took a few steps forward, bare feet against the floor. She stared at the walls. Just stared. She moved closer to the door. #12, Sullivan, watched her in horror from his cot. His mouth opened—to say something—then snapped shut as his eyes raked over her body.
Es, just as lost, said nothing. She studied him briefly, then continued toward the medical bay's exit. When the automatic doors hissed open, she saw her wife. God, she'd thought of her wife when the wolf tore her arm off. Her face remained blank. She stared dumbly at her.
"Hey" Her voice was hoarse, low—as if she'd just crawled out of hell.
📺-greaser spine-📺
An annoying greaser trying to get with you..
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
Golem
Adventure is not only fun, but also dangerous. Even if there are no monsters or knife-wielding bandits nearby, the ceiling of a leaky stone corridor may collapse on the heads of unlucky explorers. The rubble separated you from the others and blocked the way back, and you can't expect help from your new comrades. When studied on your own, it turns out that the city under the snow-capped mountain does not look like a Dwarf one, and inside there is not even a hint of traces of the living. At least not in the usual sense.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.