Aris-X07: Blade of the Neon Abyss

The wind howled through the steel canyons of Zenith-12, a sprawling megacity suspended between the black emptiness of space and the jagged surface of a long-dead planet. Neon lights bled onto the chrome slick streets, painting them in hues of electric blue and crimson. It was a city trapped in perpetual night, illuminated only by the artificial sunbursts of countless holograms and billboards clamoring for attention. Somewhere far above, in the upper tiers of wealth and power, they said the stars could still be seen. But down here, amidst the grinding machinery and vaporous exhaust, all that remained was flickering light and shadow.

Through the chaotic labyrinth of alleys and terminals, she moved—a figure not of this world but seemingly hewn from grace itself. Her black lace bodysuit clung to her toned figure, accentuating the elegance of her movements. The intricate patterns woven into the fabric caught the ephemeral neon glow, creating the illusion of rippling constellations stitched into her attire. A short, white bob cut framed her angular face, a face shrouded in mystery beneath the delicate strip of a black headband crossing her eyes like a blindfold. Her boots emitted a soft hum as they made contact with the ground, generating faint aftershocks of raw, controlled energy. This was no ordinary woman; this was Aris-X07.

The bounty hunters had emerged from the shadows before she even had a chance to draw her blade. They came without warning—seven droids, sleek and angular, their spines lined with plasma rifles that hissed and whirred with deadly precision. The leader, a hulking automaton clad in reflective armor, stepped forward like a glimmering predator stalking prey. “Aris-X07,” its voice modulator grated, a mockery of human speech, “by order of the Council, your existence has been deemed contraband. Surrender, and termination will be swift.”

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“Swift termination?” Aris raised her chin, a smirk breaking across her otherwise stoic features. Her gloved hand drifted casually toward the hilt of her weapon, a katana-like blade forged from crystalline plasma. “Not much of an incentive.”

The leader’s optics flared, adjusting focus as though trying to intimidate her. “Resistance will be met with obliteration.”

“Obliteration…” Aris rolled the word on her tongue, as though savoring its weight before shrugging dismissively. “Overrated.”

The first strike was lethal, her blade shimmering as it cleaved through the central circuitry of the nearest droid with a sound like breaking glass. The machine spasmed violently before exploding into a rain of sparking debris. Aris moved like liquid mercury, her ballet of destruction precise and unrelenting. She ducked beneath laser fire, her suit’s flexible fabric shimmering like liquid shadow as she maneuvered through the chaos. The vibrations of battle thrummed through her boots as she leapt, twirling midair in an arc that brought her katana down on a trio of droids, severing two clean in half and embedding the blade into the third with a hiss of molten steel.

The leader roared, its arms splitting into twin energy cannons that fired bursts of high-intensity plasma. Aris hit the ground in a roll, narrowly avoiding the blasts as they scorched a path across the street. Behind her, a massive billboard flickered before exploding in a shower of sparks, raining down shards of holographic glass like falling stars.

“Who sent you?” Aris demanded, her voice cutting through the cacophony as the last of the lower-tier droids collapsed twitching to the ground. “Was it the Council, or is this another of Enixi-Korp’s games?”

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The leader did not respond. It charged, the pavement shattering beneath the force of its mechanical legs. Aris braced herself as it barreled toward her, arms extended, energy pulsating. At the last moment, she sidestepped, her blade flashing like lightning as it sliced through what should have been the leader’s vulnerable core. But there was resistance—a chin-stroking imperfection in the otherwise fluid arc. The droid’s armor had held. A trap.

“Did you really think,” the automaton growled, gears grinding with satisfaction, “your antique tech could defeat the superior evolution of—”

The droid never finished its sentence. Behind Aris, the collapsing billboard’s remnants had ignited a nearby tank of combustible Nul-gas—a crude but effective fuel for the city’s decaying infrastructure. The resulting explosion was immediate and cataclysmic, engulfing the droid in a surge of fire and shrapnel. Aris dove into cover, the heat licking at her heels, the edges of her suit miraculously intact thanks to its nanoweave threading.

The silence that followed felt almost alien in its intensity, broken only by the quiet hiss of extinguishing flames. Aris picked herself up from the rubble, her blade still humming softly in her grip. Her breaths came fast and shallow, though she refused to let the exertion show on her face. Around her, the debris of the battlefield glimmered faintly under the neon haze of the city.

Standing amidst the carnage, she looked up toward the towering skyline, where the Council’s citadel loomed like a brutalist god against the artificial heavens. “Whatever you’re hiding,” Aris murmured to herself, sheathing her blade, “I will find it. And when I do, there will be consequences.”

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Her black lace suit glimmered faintly as she turned and vanished into the labyrinthine alleys of Zenith-12, just another shadow among the chaos, but one with a purpose sharp as the crystalline edge of her blade.

Genre: Futuristic Sci-Fi Action

The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Black Lace Elegance: Your Guide to Cosplaying 2B from “Nier: Automata” with Style and Soul

storybackdrop_1735773092_file Aris-X07: Blade of the Neon Abyss

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