Marble shrapnel glistened like fallen stars as the explosion echoed through the grand atrium. Nadia stumbled forward, her metallic gloves catching the faint golden light spilling from the broken crystal chandeliers above. Her sleek bodysuit — a seamless blend of black and silver — clung to her every move, reflecting the gaudy blend of retro decadence and futuristic sterility that enveloped the grand hall. She held an ornate red-star emblazoned headpiece under her arm like a war trophy, its edges sharp enough to draw blood. Smoke billowed from the eastern wall, where the explosive charge she had planted moments earlier had blown open the entrance to the Ministry of Progress. The mission was far from over.
“Of all the foolish moves you’ve made, this one might be your last, Nadia Ivanovna.” The voice came from behind her, eerie and smooth, drenched in the calculated calm of her pursuer. Turning sharply, Nadia’s eyes met the cold, unblinking gaze of a towering machine—an automaton sculpted with immaculate precision. It stood well over seven feet tall, its humanoid form draped in flowing steel and chrome, a cruel parody of beauty. The red pinprick of its simulated iris burned like a distant supernova, fixed entirely on her.
“I’ve heard that before,” Nadia retorted, her voice steady despite the hammering of her augmented heartbeat. Sweat dampened the nape of her neck beneath the intricate lace veil of her futuristic updo. Her hair, sleek and coiled, framed her face like a battle crest from some forgotten imperial age, vintage yet defiant. She tightened her grip on the star-emblazoned headpiece. “And yet—” she gestured toward the ruined wall behind her, “–I’m still standing.”
The automaton tilted its head with a faint, mechanical hum. “Not for long.” It lunged.
Three Days Earlier: House of Bureau Secrets
The House of Bureau Secrets glittered in the night like a dying phoenix clutching onto its splendor. Gold-encrusted pillars and intricate Soviet mosaics hinted at past glory while polished marble floors reflected the sprawling LEDs of towering mechanical spires outside. It was here that Nadia had first unveiled her plan: an audacious strike against the Ministry, aimed at recovering a single piece of technology said to turn revolutions into empires.
“You’re insane.” Viktor, a wiry man with an angular face and eyes constantly scanning the room, leaned closer, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. His baggy pinstripe jacket — borrowed from some crumbling pre-war era — looked almost ludicrous amidst the opulent decor. “No one walks into the Ministry of Progress and walks out. Their automatons are ghosts, Nadia. Ghosts with claws.”
“Maybe,” she’d replied, swirling the amber liquid in her tumbler. She didn’t drink; the whiskey was a prop, and like everything else in her life, designed to serve her narrative. Her look tonight was no less deliberate, her black and silver bodysuit hidden beneath an opulent floor-length crimson coat. Gold thread embroidered swirling patterns over its surface like veins of a thriving machine. Her gloves, identical in design to the ones she wore today, gleamed as she tapped the headpiece that would soon become her talisman. “But I’m not just walking out. I’m taking back what’s ours.”
Viktor had sighed but didn’t press further. He knew better than to try when Nadia’s mind was set.
The Present: A Dance of Metal and Fire
The automaton surged forward, its clawed hand aimed directly for Nadia’s head. She twisted instinctively, her bodysuit responding to every micro-movement, and rolled beneath its swing as the marble floor cracked where she had stood. She retaliated with a swift arc of the headpiece, its sharpened edge slicing cleanly into the automaton’s side. Sparks flew, and the scent of scorched wiring mingled with the gunpowder in the air.
The automaton paused, the damage assessment whirring audibly in its core. Smaller spider-like drones began descending from hidden compartments in the Ministry’s vaulted ceiling, their metallic legs clinking against the marble like a sinister chorus.
“Typical,” Nadia muttered. She kicked off one of the Ministry’s ornately carved benches, vaulted over the automaton’s crouched form, and pulled a compact device from her belt. With a deft motion, she pressed a sequence of buttons, and the bomb she’d planted earlier armed itself. A hiss filled the air, signaling its activation. “Let’s see how well you dance, ghost.”
The automaton turned, its gaze narrowing as it deduced her intent. “You won’t leave this building alive.”
“Maybe not,” she called back, dashing toward the far hallway as the bomb’s timer counted down. Her voice rang sharp against the hail of bullets and mechanical screeches. “But neither will you.”
Two Hours Later: Above the Ruins
The hovercraft shuddered slightly as it cut through the smoggy air, the ruins of the Ministry of Progress a desolate shadow on the horizon. Nadia leaned against the craft’s edge, her crimson coat billowing in the wind and the intricate metallic embellishments on her gloves catching the dim moonlight. In her free hand, she held the relic she had retrieved—a cube of pulsating red energy encased in a crystalline frame. Viktor watched her silently from the craft’s interior, his ever-present cigarette glowing faintly like an ember ready to ignite.
“You actually did it,” Viktor finally said, exhaling plumes of smoke as he spoke. His voice carried more disbelief than admiration. “Half of Moscow will be looking for us now.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” she replied calmly, tearing her eyes away from the glowing relic to meet his gaze. Her face, illuminated by the light of the cube, was weary but resolute. “This is only the beginning.”
Below them, the ruins of the Ministry sparked and smoldered, a contradiction of chaos and silence. Somewhere in those ruins, amidst the rubble and shattered grandeur, the world had begun to shift.
And Nadia Ivanovna intended to be there when it did.
Genre
Sci-fi Action/Thriller
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Black and Metallic Silver Atomic Heart Cosplay Costume Ideas
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