Rain lashed against the obsidian window panes, streaking the skyline of Neo-Babylon with shimmering tendrils of water and light. A crack of thunder crashed through the air, but the woman standing inside the penthouse didn’t flinch. Her silhouette was sharp and unmoving, like a marble statue carved to mock mortal fragility. A synthetic city gleamed behind her, a sprawl of luminous towers that pierced the low-hanging clouds. Somewhere down below, alarms wailed. Something was burning.
Her name was Casaya, known by some as the Widow of the Wires, but that didn’t matter tonight. Tonight, names were irrelevant. What mattered was survival. She tightened the black leather suspenders that crossed diagonally over her chest, securing the suit that clung to her body like shadows made flesh. The outfit was tailored expertly in Neo-Babylonian style—an evolution of what some still called a dress, though it bore the scars of centuries of functionality layered atop elegance. The high-collared ensemble shimmered faintly; fiber optics woven through the sheer black fabric gave it an otherworldly glow. The floral detailing across the bodice was crafted from liquid titanium, refracting the ambient light in bursts of rose and orchid hues that seemed alive. Completing her attire were glossy black boots that climbed to her thighs, their surface reflecting both determination and danger. A matching choker adorned her throat, the delicate floral patterns etched into it offsetting the sharpened dagger that hung from the accompanying silver necklace.
One objective buzzed sharply in her augmented head: Eliminate him.
The thunder roared again as she adjusted the bow knot on the side of her suspender straps. The name “Sephyr Drayk” seared itself into her mind like an unforgivable sin. The man called the “Architect of Ruin” was emboldened by his power to remodel reality at the touch of a button. As he sat somewhere in the city’s beating heart, hidden behind fortified walls and layers of firewalls, she knew the time had come for retribution.
Three Hours Earlier
“Casaya, you can’t be serious,” Vektor said, his synthetic voice arcing through the transmitter in her ear. He sat cross-legged in the dimly lit tactical van surrounded by pulsating screens that lit up his pale, freckled complexion. His wild auburn hair was tied messily back, a stark contrast to the precision with which his fingers navigated across the holo-interface. “Nobody flies this close to Drayk and lives to pour another drink.”
Casaya, half-illumined by the van’s amber ceiling light, had bent over the table. The components of a disassembled plasma-blade lay before her, gleaming coldly like teeth. She inserted a critical shard of Khamurite crystal into the hilt and snapped the casing back into place with an audible click. “That’s why I don’t intend to fly. I’ll walk in.”
Vektor’s chuckle lacked mirth. “And tap him on the shoulder, I assume?”
She looked up, her dark eyes catching the glow of the screens. “Something like that.”
“I mean it, Cas. You’re risking everything. You’re wearing a death sentence.”
She stood up, sliding the finished plasma-blade into the sheath tied around her thigh. Her boots clicked softly against the poly-steel floor. “Some sentences are worth serving.”
He leaned back in his seat, his grin fading. “For what? Justice? Revenge? Tell me, does it even matter to you anymore?”
Casaya had paused at the door, one hand resting on the frame as her gaze lingered on the rain streaking past the van’s surveillance slit. She didn’t answer. Instead, she gave him a sharp nod and vanished into the storm drenched streets of Zone Alpha-One.
Now
No door could withstand her. The penthouse elevator opened silently, the only sound being the whisper of her boots against the slick marble floor. Drayk’s lair was encased in a web of neural interfaces, their soft blue glow painting the dark furnishings in hazy light. The air here smelled of ozone and orchids. She advanced, her fingers brushing the hilt of her blade. Adrenaline thrummed through her veins, humming in tempo with the distant rhythm of vertipods weaving between the skyscrapers outside.
Drayk had his back to her when she entered the lounge. His white hair cascaded down his broad back. A matching coat hung loosely over his frame, its metallic gold design reflecting his imperial tastes. He was facing a three-story glass window, one that overlooked the fractured neon labyrinth far below. He cupped a glowing orb in his hand, his voice dripping with melodrama as he spoke to someone unseen. “If Babylon burns…” he mused, “it will rise again. But this time, in my image.”
“Babylon won’t rise. You won’t rise. Not tonight.”
Her words laid themselves bare against the room. She expected him to turn in shock, to growl and throw fire at the woman who had come to dismantle his empire. But Drayk did none of these things.
Instead, he laughed.
A low rumble that climbed the air like a predator, curling itself around her resolve. He turned slowly, his cobalt eyes glowing faintly like dying stars. “Ah, the Widow herself. To what do I owe this exceedingly theatrical visit?”
He held no weapon, yet she felt the sharpness of his presence like a blade pressed against her jugular. Her fist tightened around the hilt of her blade. “Your time is over, Drayk.”
“And you believe you’re its herald?” He quirked a brow, stepping closer. “The world survives on people like me—and collapses because of people like you.”
The air between them crackled with tension. A single thought danced in her mind—strike now, or perish. But something shot through her nerves, an electric pulse she hadn’t expected, a question that hadn’t been asked: Do you truly believe this is the end?
The storm outside reached a crescendo, lightning illuminating both enemies like figures frozen in eternal combat. Her hand moved before her mind could decide.
Genre:
Cyberpunk Action/Thriller
The Source…check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: Black Strapless Dress with Floral Detailing, Thigh-High Boots, and Edgy Chic Accessories for a Modern City Glam Cosplay Look
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.
Get Exclusive Stories, Photos, Art & Offers - Subscribe Today!
2 comments