The Battle for Osenkai: Obera Kain’s Final Stand

Cosplay Costume Fiction cosplay, cosplayer, cosplayers, egirls, fiction, short story sandra January 22, 2025 0 Comments

The wind screamed as if it carried the laments of a thousand souls, whipping around the towering obsidian spires of the floating Citadel of Osenkai. Above the jagged city, great purple and green auroras danced like restless spirits, bathing everything in an otherworldly glow. In the heart of the Citadel, amidst crumbling courtyards and reflective pools filled with starlight, a figure darted across the rusted iron bridges, her steps as light as shadows.

She was a striking vision against the muted backgrounds of ruined grandeur. Her outfit clung to her lean, athletic frame, a glossy-black ensemble cut from some glinting synthetic material that shimmered with every movement. Despite the practical combat readiness of her bikini-like armor, it exuded a piercing elegance, especially paired with a long, flowing scarf of midnight silk twisting in the air behind her like a ribbon caught in a storm. The ensemble was punctuated by feline details: subtle kitty ears adorning her helmet and claws designed into her armored gloves. Her hair, stark white and bluntly cut to frame her face, partially hid one pale eye, radiating the mystique of danger. A long, curved sword rested on her back, a single black strap keeping it secured as she moved. Her boots marked no sound on the ancient bridges. She was Obera Kain, a name half-feared and half-worshiped across a fractured galaxy.

From above, the horizon glimmered faintly as far-off planets and distant stars cast flickers of light. Yet the city below spoke only of despair. Once the cradle of a forgotten civilization, now Osenkai was a graveyard of ancient decadence, touched by rot and abandonment. Strange, whispering runes etched into the black stones pulsed faintly, as if feeding off the living energy of interlopers.

Obera’s heart pounded, but her breaths remained steady. Cool determination etched every line of her glistening face. Behind her, the Revenants pursued—inhuman wraiths cloaked in fractal light and smoke. All that could be seen of their faces were grins of serrated teeth and endlessly shifting eyes. She had stolen something precious from them, and they would not forgive it.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she tightened her grip on the small cobalt sphere pulsing faintly in her gloved hand. The orb vibrated, alive. It wasn’t just an artifact from an earlier epoch. It was a weapon. A chance to rewrite history if what the Archivists theorized was true. In the wrong hands, it could burn a thousand worlds to ash in a heartbeat.

A snarl escaped her lips. She refused to let this fall back into the Revenants’ shrieking claws. Swiveling, she reached behind her, drew the blade from her back in a lightning-fast motion, and slashed the air with precision. The edge sang as it split the wind, creating a crackling shockwave. The bridge below her knees groaned and exploded into fragments of unraveling black stone, severing her pursuers’ path. For a moment, she felt the rush of triumph, but victory was fleeting in Osenkai.

As the shattered stones tumbled into the endless void below, the Revenants surged forward like spilled oil, their forms shifting and molding to bridge the gap. They moved faster than she’d calculated. Her blade cut again and again through their smoky essence, but they kept reforming mere seconds after every hit. Their laughter, reverberating like grinding glass, filled the air.

“You cannot outrun us forever, Kain,” one of them shrieked in a voice that seemed to come from every direction at once. “The Requiem Sphere belonged to our masters long before your kind crawled from the mud!”

“Then crawl back to them,” Obera spat, voice sharp and commanding. Finally, she reached one of the steel elevators, a strange contraption of weathered gears and cables. She jammed her blade into its creaking interface, leveraging its ancient mechanism to launch herself upward. As it roared to life, the Revenants clawed at its edges below, but the device shuddered just in time, rocketing toward the Citadel’s apex… or what was left of it.

The ascent was harsh. Wind lashed against her face as she rose into thinner air. The Citadel’s summit unraveled before her, a grand arena perched against the heavens like some forgotten throne room to a cosmic emperor. Here, amidst vast mosaics and ancient crystalline structures rising like delicate spires, the final confrontation awaited. That much she felt in her bones. The Sphere hummed in her hand, warming her palm as if it sensed its proximity to destiny.

A sudden, deafening crash drew her attention. The Revenants, grotesque and relentless, had scaled even this height. Their forms began to fracture reality itself, bending the sky like shredded fabric around them. She unsheathed her sword again, whispering something under her breath—a prayer, or perhaps a curse.

“Do you even know what you hold?” one of the creatures hissed, its shifting form assuming something almost humanoid. Its eyes shone like dying embers. “It will break you. It will erase you, girl.”