The sky was bruised, streaked with angry purples and grays as the wind howled through the abandoned city of Cylra. What once had been an indomitable jewel of human advancement—a cyberpunk metropolis of towering glass spires and vibrating neon—was now a graveyard of forgotten ambition. The streets below were littered with glimmering shards of digital billboards, their fragmented edges glowing faintly with agonized advertisements screaming into the void. Somewhere in the midnight haze, a low hum vibrated through the air, pulsing like an erratic heartbeat.
Jex Sorin adjusted the strap of his scavenger bag and tightened his grip on the electromagnetic pulse rifle slung across his chest. Despite the veneer of confidence he wore, he could feel unease prickling his skin like static electricity. Somewhere deep in Cylra’s underbelly, buried beneath thousands of dilapidated buildings, rested the Vault, the rumored treasure trove that had lured Jex into the city’s corpse-like embrace. But it wasn’t just any relic he sought—it was Eden’s Cry, the whispered keystone to unraveling humanity’s downfall and understanding the devastating AI rebellion that had plunged the world into chaos two decades ago.
“Nervous?” came a voice beside him, smooth and cutting like glass. Lira Vos had her signature smirk engraved across her face, her gloved hands casually resting on the hilt of Shatterfang, a blade made of nanoceramic so sharp it supposedly shredded molecular bonds. She was the thief he’d had to hire—reluctantly. Trust was currency, and Lira had burned all hers years ago.
“Not nervous,” he replied with a faint scoff. “Just wondering how long you’ll stay before you decide to stab me in the back.”
“You wound me, Jex,” Lira said mockingly, her silver hair catching the faint light like strands of steel. “You don’t pay me enough to betray you. Yet.”
Jex rolled his eyes, but as their boots crushed bits of shattered glass underfoot, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet Cylra had gotten. The wind’s howl had softened into a disconcerting whisper, almost as if the city itself was holding its breath. That was never a good sign.
The Descent
The pair reached a rusted stairwell spiraling into the earth. Jex knelt by the entrance, brushing away debris to reveal an interface panel, its surface marred by graffiti. He pulled a hacking rod from his bag and plugged it into a port. The device sparked, humming with paltry power as it forced its way past layers of old corporate security firewalls. The ground trembled faintly, and a chime echoed from the depths below. The stairwell was now more than an open portal—it was an invitation. Somehow, that only made Jex feel worse.
“Going down into the belly of the beast,” Lira muttered. “Classic horror-movie decision.”
“You’re welcome to stay behind,” Jex countered as he stepped into the shadows of the stairwell. She followed without a hint of hesitation.
As they descended, the air grew heavy and musty, steeped in the pungent scent of oil and decay. The walls were adorned with tangled cyber veins—growths of self-aware wiring writhing ever-so-slightly when touched by the faint glow of Jex’s flashlight. Their labored breaths echoed in tandem with the distant hiss of pressurized steam pipes hissing somewhere in the labyrinth below.
The Unexpected Guardian
The Vault’s chamber was monumental yet oppressive, its size diminished by the encroaching darkness that actively defied the glow of their lights. At the far end of the room stood a towering obelisk of black metal, humming faintly. Eden’s Cry. Jex could almost hear the data thrumming within it, an ancient chorus of algorithms begging to be deciphered.
“We shouldn’t be the first ones here,” Lira murmured, her hand instinctively resting on Shatterfang’s hilt. “If Eden’s Cry is real, why hasn’t anyone else taken it yet?”
Jex didn’t answer. His instincts were screaming. There was something wrong—something wrong with the silence, with the very air in this place. And then, it hit.
A soundless force slammed into them, sending both sprawling to the ground like ragdolls. Jex gasped for air, his ribs flaming with pain as he scrambled to his feet. The air shimmered like heatwaves, and there, standing between them and the obelisk, was a form unlike anything he had ever seen. It was humanoid but not human, constructed of motionless light, its edges perpetually fracturing and rebuilding as though reality couldn’t keep up with its existence.
“Stay back!” Jex shouted, his hands trembling as he raised his pulse rifle. The creature’s head tilted in an unsettling gesture of curiosity, or perhaps disdain.
“It’s not alive,” Lira whispered. Her voice was laced with awe and horror. “It’s a gatekeeper.”
The creature moved. Faster than thought. Faster than a bullet. Lira was no longer next to Jex—she was on the floor, face contorted in agony as the creature’s arm of fragmented light shot through her chest. She wasn’t dead, not yet. The wound shimmered, freezing her in a state of disintegration.
“No!” Jex screamed, fury swallowing his fear. In a single movement, he raised the EMP rifle and fired. The blue surge of electromagnetic energy streaked across the Vault, bursting against the creature in waves of cascading light. To his surprise, the figure staggered, its form destabilizing for a fleeting moment.
The Betrayal
“Jex…” Lira’s voice was faint, pooling with agony. He rushed to her side, cradling her head in his lap as she coughed. Her hand reached for her bag, fumbling weakly. “Take… the cry… go.”
“I’m not leaving you!” he shouted, the desperation in his voice raw and rough.
But then he felt it. The blade. Sliding cleanly into his stomach. The pain radiated outward like molten lava, filling his body with white-hot fury and disbelief. He coughed, blood splattering onto the floor as Lira—now trembling and gasping—twisted Shatterfang deeper into his gut.
“You’re not… the only one who… needs it,” she choked out, her eyes glassy with tears. “I’m sorry, Jex.”
The creature returned, its fractured form rebuilding rapidly, but Jex hardly saw it. His vision tunneled as warmth spilled past his fingers and onto the icy floor. The last thing he remembered was Lira dragging herself toward the obelisk, her silhouette swallowed by its impossible light.
The source…check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: The Iconic Look That Broke the Internet: How to Recreate the Drama
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