The End to Come - Page 5 3D Render, Digital Artwork by emarukk

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The End to Come - Page 5

3D Render by emarukk

Olivia spun around, instinctively scrambling backward. Her limbs, weary and aching from exhaustion, protested with every movement, and she let out a sharp cry of pain. Yet, adrenaline surged through her veins, compelling her to move despite her body's complaints. Her mind raced, expecting the worst—a rebel, perhaps, a looter or slaver. Her imagination conjured up images of someone filthy and menacing, a grim figure with a gun aimed squarely at her chest, cloaked in makeshift armor pieced together from the remnants of military technology. Images from educational videos played in her mind, where valiant Confederate warriors were depicted facing ruthless rebels in brutal and lopsided battles.

But instead of this nightmarish vision, her eyes met with a man clad in worn, lightweight power armor. It was not the cobbled-together armor of a scavenger but the kind that spoke of wealth and experience, the sort of expensive gear favored by mercenaries who had survived countless battles and always returned for more. She recognized it from the soldiers she had seen at Verdania station, those who paused briefly on their way to the frontline. The helmet he wore was devoid of a traditional visor; instead, it housed a complex array of sensors that pulsed with a dim, rhythmic glow as they adjusted to the dim surroundings. It gave the unsettling impression that beneath that enigmatic helmet, the man was silently scanning and calculating, processing every detail fed to him by the advanced technology.

The flickering glow of emergency panels cast ghostly reflections across his armor, accentuating the dull, matte fiber material that bore the scars of years of relentless use. Yet, the man did not reach for a weapon. His posture was relaxed, almost nonchalant, as if he had all the time in the world, exuding a calm confidence that belied the tension in the air.

"Easy now," he said, raising one gloved hand in a soothing gesture, his fingers encased in thick, protective fiber material. His voice resonated through the helmet's filter, slightly distorted yet imbued with a comforting warmth reminiscent of a grandfather reassuring frightened children on a stormy night. "That little scanner of mine did us both a favor. You've got a name, and now I have it, too. Olivia, it's a lovely name, and I kindly ask you to calm down."

Olivia was not a little child. Hearing her name from a stranger made her stomach twisting into knots, a visceral reaction to the reality she faced. The drone, its mechanical eye unblinking as it scanned her ID chip and identified her with unsettling secrecy. The stranger before her now possessed a comprehensive dossier of her identity. It was as if her very essence had been laid bare, every unencrypted detail of her life now at his disposal. This wealth of information was a potent tool capable of unleashing many consequences, especially if she was classified as salvage. The weight of this vulnerability pressed heavily upon her; it was a looming threat that could alter her fate in unimaginable ways.

The icy thought sent a shiver down Olivia's spine as she crouched on her aching feet, her weary muscles tensed and poised for action. Her breath came in rapid, shallow gasps. A wave of panic surged through her, and for a fleeting moment, she entertained the notion of making a desperate dash. Suddenly, the station groaned ominously, its metallic frame shuddering as bulkheads strained under immense pressure, threatening to give way. It was as if the station itself was reminding her of the grim reality. But where could she run? There was no sanctuary to be found, only corridors ablaze with flames and the vast, cold void of space lying in wait to swallow any debris that dared drift too far from the crumbling structure.

The stranger adjusted his stance with a measured grace, gradually lowering himself to one knee until he was at eye level with her. His armor emitted a gentle hum, the servos within subtly whirring as they adapted to his movement. His breath was steady and quiet, almost blending into the ambient sounds around them. The action was devoid of hostility; instead, it conveyed a sense of patient anticipation, akin to someone coaxing a timid creature to approach without fear.

"You don't want to be here when this place goes," he said in a calm, measured tone, though an undercurrent of urgency laced his words. "Trust me, kid, I've witnessed stations like this crumble before. It's far from pleasant when that happens."

Olivia swallowed hard, a knot of fear tightening in her throat, as she shook her head in defiance. "This is my home; I can go to the airlock," she whispered, her voice a mere wisp against the tense atmosphere.

The stranger sighed deeply, the sound distorted and crackling through his helmet's filter like a weary exhale echoing in a hollow chamber. "Yeah," he muttered, almost as if speaking to himself. "Figured you'd say that. From a drone's view, I can see the airlock's powered and ready for use." His voice took on a somber note. "I really hope you didn't buy into that old space legend about airlock lifeboats."

The station emitted a deep, metallic groan. This mournful sound resonated through its labyrinthine corridors like the final breath of a dying giant. In the distance, a power conduit had ruptured, unleashing a dazzling shower of sparks that cascaded down like a torrent of dying stars, their brilliance fading as they fell. The air was thick with the sharp tang of ozone, mingling with the acrid scent of burning insulation and an underlying odor that hinted at something far more sinister and unsettling.

PROFILE

Samara BlueSun, Mar 23

Karma: 6,618

A very interesting account smile

When I looked at it, I immediately noticed your special colours. But it's only in your CV that I can understand where this inspiration comes from. I like it very much, especially because these colours are very familiar to me as a long-time oriental hobby dancer smile

. Your work is very lively and elaborate. Great work! My pleasure to follow you

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PROFILE

emarukk

Karma: 2,357

Sun, Mar 23

Thank you! I started with the 9th-century oriental world because I worked for years in the South Caucasus and Turkey. I got very familiar with oriental dances there. I always wanted to expand to the modern world and Sci-Fi but never had the time or resources to do it. Especially transferring the 9th-century brutal world to the future was always a question that lingered nearby: How to do it? I'm delighted to hear you like my work.