The sound of boots echoed against the rusted walkways of a sprawling, vertical city—a colossus of metal and steel that pierced the planet’s polluted skies. Above, veils of smog reflected the dying light of a sun struggling to penetrate to the streets below. A figure darted through the dense labyrinth of industrial alleys, their black outfit melding with the shadows as if they were one and the same. The hair that crowned their head, however, stood in stark defiance—a vivid green, as if the earth itself had breathed life into this person amidst the mechanical desolation.
An explosion shattered the suffocating silence. A kaleidoscope of fire and shrapnel erupted behind the figure, scattering ash like confetti. They didn’t flinch. Instead, their strides lengthened, their black, form-fitting attire gleaming faintly from the flames licking at the edges of the alley. A tailored ensemble of layered leather and slate metal accents hugged their lean frame, equal parts armor and utility. Fingerless gloves exposed nimble hands, marked with faint scars. Their eyes glinted with resolve, the emeralds of their irises mirroring the unyielding hue of their hair.
Climbing spiral stairways and weaving through precarious scaffolding, they finally emerged onto a high platform overlooking the sprawling nightmare of neon signs and corroded pipelines. Below, underworld factions schemed in hushed tones while merchants barked their wares over the grinding thrum of machinery—a world patched together by necessity and greed. The green-haired figure crouched at the platform’s edge, steel beams casting jagged shadows across their face.
Their breath slowed. From above, unseen amidst the chaos, they clenched something in their hands: a sleek, obsidian-black device that hummed faintly with an alien warmth. A faint blue light pulsed at its core. This wasn’t contraband, nor weaponry handed down by Earth’s technocratic overlords. No—this was stolen. And its presence here risked drawing a force no one in this crumbling epoch could comprehend.
“Reya,” a voice hissed through her earpiece. It was gravelly, with a hint of desperation. “You’re cutting it close. They’ve deployed sentinels to your sector. Get out now!”
Reya—if she even remembered that such was her name—grinned faintly, an expression at odds with the grim situation. A dreadlocked man named Kesh, somewhere deep in a safehouse far from where she perched now, practically screamed into her ear in frustration. She adjusted her earpiece while her other hand pocketed the alien device. Her black robe-like jacket unfurled slightly in the frigid wind, framed by sleek armored plates beneath. It reminded her of a raven ruffling feathers before taking flight.
“Kesh,” she muttered, her voice low and calm, “if I leave now, this thing ends up on an auction block. You know that.” Her eyes scanned the cityscape below until they finally locked onto something—a spiraling tower that rose higher than anything else, its surface riddled with blinding holographic advertisements. “I’m heading for Ascension Spire.”
“Ascension Spire?” Kesh’s voice rose, breaking momentarily. “Are you insane? They’ll vaporize you before you get halfway up!”
“Not if I climb fast enough,” she replied with a sharp smirk, already on the move. She leaped off the platform toward a fire escape hanging precariously from an adjacent building. Her coat flared in the chaos, resembling a shadow streaked with emerald light as her hair caught in the sudden rush of wind.
From behind her, an unearthly shriek erupted. She glanced down to see a sentinel unfold from a docked position below—metal limbs like razor blades slicing through the air, its ashen body glowing faintly with the logo of the Azure Dominion. Corporate drones chasing down insurgents was nothing new in the industrial wastelands of the 22nd century, but these models were enhanced, designed solely to eliminate threats with clinical efficiency.
Reya sprinted up the fire escape, her boots clanking against the corroded metal. The sentinel whirred into motion, propelling itself upward with a roar of supercharged thrusters. Plasma tendrils spewed from its body, lashing at the structure around her with destructive indifference. Sparks flew as the staircase groaned under the heat, bolts dislodging one by one.
“Come on, come on,” Reya muttered to herself, leaping just as the staircase collapsed behind her in a shower of molten steel. She landed on a ventilation pipe, her slight figure barely budging the precarious structure. She had no time to pause: the sentinel was already adjusting its trajectory, insect-like optics locking onto her as it charged another plasma strike.
But the distraction had bought her just enough time. As she climbed higher and higher toward Ascension Spire, she found herself recalling rumors about what lay within its upper levels—rumors of rogue Dominion scientists, faction betrayals, forbidden technologies, and the alien artifact she now carried in her jacket pocket.
“Reya,” Kesh interjected again, quieter this time. His voice crackled with resignation or fear—or both. “If they catch you… they’ll kill you. You know that, right?”
She didn’t answer him, not directly. Her mind flashed to a time long before the smog-drenched skylines and the world’s descent into what Dominion propaganda called “enforced prosperity.” She had been someone else then. Someone simpler. And someone powerless.
“Kesh,” she said finally, her voice carrying no trace of doubt. “That’s why I don’t plan on letting them catch me.”
From below, the sentinel screeched again, its silhouette lit against the fiery orange sky like some nightmare creature summoned forth. Reya reached for her belt, fingers brushing against an unassuming black rod. In one swift motion, she activated it, revealing a blade of shimmering, translucent energy—unlike anything Dominion tech had ever produced.
By the time the sentinel reached her, she was no longer running. She stood waiting, emerald hair alight in the setting sun, defiance burning in her eyes. The bitter wind whipped around the two adversaries as time itself seemed to hold its breath. Then Reya smiled—like a storm waiting to break.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Cosplay Inspiration with a Minimalist Black Outfit and Vibrant Green Wig
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