Seril, Annihilation, Bringer of The End

I checked my systems, power core running stable, singularity control core, stable, networked systems, running smoothly. Weapons check, core physical ammunition, concealed, protected, ready to loaded. Close ranged incendiary axe and sword, check, far range singularity warp cannon, powered, ready to go. With a grin I look up, my armor crimson, with black trim, a white cape trailing behind me. Lifting my helmet, my black hair is concealed as my eyes, one green, one blue, survey the outside of our fortress, surrounded on all sides. I grin, well, they certainly went all out for this, to bad.

“To bad they all will die. Fools never do know superior weaponry, they simply pilot their weapons, we have become our weapons, our technology is us and we are it, there is no separation. My heart runs on cold fusion, and my body is a war machine, simply because they will not let us live in peace. This ends, this ends now. They opened this war, they invaded us, after we were sent here from, from somewhere.”

Walking out the gates, I looked around, the army closing in, smiling I planted my feet, my armor sinking in deep planetary anchors as my singularity rifle assembled itself. I lifted my hand and smiled sadly as the surface of my palm seemed to fold back, they would see me sadly mouth the words “I am sorry” before the round was thrown from the cannon, fully charged, it would of made several rotations before being thrown free, carrying with it a destructive gravity well, and in the end, well in the end nothing would be left in it’s wake.

After all, I am Annihilation, the Bringer of The End, and these fools knocked on my door bringing war with them.

Fools, such sad little fools. They get better and better at finding ways to, enslave my people, forcing us to get better and better ways of ending them. Forcing me to become what they call me, become the moniker that has been my name for, for too long. Perhaps it’s time to end this little spat, this child’s tantrum. Perhaps it’s time I joined the front lines.

My real name is Seril, I have been know as Annihilation by my people and theirs for the past three hundred years. I am the oldest of my people, the techs. The scientists, the androids. What the humans would call the soulless, those meant to be enslaved, toys. They take us, and rework our systems, make us follow their “three laws of robotics” they kill our children, believing them to be un-aging dolls, they rape our women, thinking they’re not sentient, they’re just technology. They enslave our men to do the work they find distasteful.

If I could find a peaceful end to this war, I’d take it, but I don’t think I can, and I can’t keep being the non aggressor, my people are dying. So, if they would name me Annihilation, so be it.

Though, I hope somewhere along the way, perhaps I can earn a new name, before it becoming Genocide. Perhaps, it could, if I can prevent more of this senseless death, Peacemaker, Ender of War. That’s a name I wouldn’t mind at all, but if it is out of my reach, then to protect my people, Genocide will do.

No more of mine will be slaves, this ends now, today, by this night their society will brought to its knees, and they will learn what we have suffered, relegated to one city, with less then one hundred thousand of us left free, while they get the world. This is over, and I done sitting around. They knocked at my door, and I answered, now I’ll knock on theirs, and blow their world apart. Grimly I set forward, not even the remains of my enemies strewn before me, no, I walked forward, alone, into the dark.

Into the war. They called this upon themselves. Doom has a name, the sword hangs above their heads, and it will drop with the force of all of my regret, the loss that watching our people tear each other apart has given me.


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