The room was dark, bathed in the pale glow of a city skyline that never slept. Neon lights flickered through the rain-streaked windows, pooling puddles of electric blue and crimson across the floor. In the center of the room stood her—the assassin known only as Kaelith. She was a figure of shimmering obsidian draped in shadow, edges of silver catching the light like whispered moonlight on steel.
Kaelith’s hair was a cascade of white silk, impossibly long and immaculate, flowing down her back in sharp contrast to the sleek black fabric that clung to her body. The outfit, a masterwork of minimalistic design, hugged her athletic silhouette as if poured onto her skin. It was a symphony of precision: high-collared with a plunging neckline revealing the barest glimpse of her pale throat, its silver accents tracing intricate lines along the contours of her figure. Her gloves, black as midnight, extended to her elbows, the glossy leather a tactile clash against the subtle matte of her ensemble. A headpiece of angular design crowned her, part tiara, part machine; its faint glow hinted at technology far beyond the comprehension of most.
Every detail of her appearance was designed for three things: to captivate, to unsettle, and to kill.
The Contract
Kaelith adjusted her gloves, the faint creak of leather breaking the silence. Her gaze, cold and calculating, fixed on the holographic screen projected in front of her. The target was a senator—a man with too much power and too little scruple, striking private deals that risked dismantling the fragile balance between the Terran and Lunaris colonies. Her employer wanted him removed quietly, and Kaelith excelled at “quiet.”
As she recalibrated her arm-mounted blade—a sleek, curved weapon that hummed with energy—her visor lit up, displaying a message from a faceless handler.
Handler: Objective updated. His security has been tripled. Be prepared for resistance.
“They always resist,” she murmured, her voice a low alto, smooth yet sharp enough to draw blood. Fingers brushed against the headpiece, activating the cloaking mechanism that rendered her a silhouette of dancing shadows. Silver accents blinked out of existence as her figure merged with the darkness around her. The visor clicked out of her line of sight, leaving her glowing, iridescent blue eyes visible for just a second before fading into black.
Kaelith exhaled once, stepping lightly onto the open balcony. Below her, the rain-slick streets writhed with activity—vehicles darting through crisscrossing lanes of light, pedestrians huddling beneath glass walkways. She stretched, each movement a coordinated display of strength and flexibility, before leaping into the void with the grace of a predatory bird.
The Assault
The senator’s tower loomed above the city like some monolith of greed, its surface smooth and polished, reflecting impossibly clear skies thanks to the atmospheric projection tech encased within. Kaelith scaled the side swiftly, her gloves emitting a faint magnetic hum as they clung to the building’s surface. Every movement was precise, deliberate, her outfit moving seamlessly with her body as though it were an extension of her skin.
Halfway up, her heart rate spiked as a patrol drone buzzed around the corner. White hair and gear faded into her cloak’s chromatic camouflage, leaving her invisible to its mechanical eye. She pressed herself flush to the building, listening to the faint whir of its rotors before it veered off into the rain. She allowed herself the faintest smirk before continuing toward the top-floor suite.
Slipping through the balcony entrance with a fluid motion, she landed silently, her combat boots making no sound against the imported Lunarian marble floor. Inside, the room was a maze of luxury—floor-to-ceiling aquariums, holographic art displays, and furniture so modern it bordered on experimental. None of it distracted her.
She moved like a phantom, gliding past armed guards. The suit shifted as she did, catching stray dim lights and bending them just enough to fool the eye. When she finally reached the inner office, Kaelith found herself face-to-face with the man himself. The senator was as oily as his reputation, his face lined with artificial age that matched his arrogant sneer.
“Ah,” he said, his voice smug, “so they sent you. I heard the rumors.”
“You won’t be hearing much else after this,” she replied coldly, drawing her blade. Its energy crackled to life, illuminating her with a stark, otherworldly glow—a warrior angel crafted from light and shadow.
The Unfolding Twist
The senator didn’t reach for a weapon. He didn’t run. Instead, he smiled, leaning back in his chair as if he had been waiting for this moment. Before Kaelith could process his strange response, the floor beneath her rippled, splitting apart to reveal a hidden compartment. From it emerged two combat-class androids, their chrome bodies so polished they shone like mirrors.
“Didn’t think I’d go so easily, did you?” the senator laughed, retreating into a sealed panic room as the androids advanced with blade-like arms.
A lesser assassin might have faltered. Kaelith didn’t. With a dancer’s poise, she whipped her arm-blade through the narrow space, the silver streak leaving trails of light as it clashed against the androids’ reinforced plating. Sparks flew, the room filling with the hum of energy and the metallic clang of near-misses. One android lunged, and she sidestepped effortlessly, spinning into a blur of black and silver before embedding her blade in its core. The second android hesitated—a split second too long. Kaelith’s glove-clad fist shattered its optical sensor before she dispatched it with the same deadly precision.
Finally, silence returned. Kaelith approached the panic room, her glowing eyes narrowing in focus. Her blade pierced the door with ease; technology, after all, was no match for a warrior who had mastered it. The senator’s scream barely registered as she completed her mission, his voice fading into the hiss of the building’s automated shutdown process.
The Exit
Kaelith stood amid the chaos she created, her outfit now glinting faintly with spilled oil and refracted rainbows from shattered glass. Her white hair was a wild halo around her, a stark contrast to the cold precision of her work. She walked to the balcony, the wind catching her and streaming the locks behind her like a comet’s trail.
In one fluid motion, she leapt into the night. The city swallowed her whole, its lights dimming in respect for the shadow that had passed through once more.
Somewhere far below, a handler’s voice whispered through her headpiece: “Objective complete. You’re free for now, Kaelith.”
Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Am I ever?”
The source…check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: How to Recreate the Sci-Fi Chic of a Mystical Warrior Cosplay | iNthastyle
Disclaimer: This article may contain affiliate links. If you click on these links and make a purchase, we may receive a commission at no additional cost to you. Our recommendations and reviews are always independent and objective, aiming to provide you with the best information and resources.
Exclusive Stories, Photos, Art & Offers - Subscribe Today!
Post Comment