The End to Come - Page 21 3D Render, Digital Artwork by emarukk

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The End to Come - Page 21

3D Render by emarukk

The End to Come – Episode 21

She watched intently as the stranger moved with purpose toward the airlock control panel, his imposing armor casting eerie, distorted shadows that stretched ominously across the bulkhead. The drone had already vanished, leaving behind an unsettling emptiness. Olivia's mind raced, a torrent of anxiety engulfing her as she wondered where the drone had gone. Perhaps it had its own hidden docking alcove. The thought of the drone reignited a gnawing dread that seized her mind with an iron grip. Her eyes were locked on the stranger, observing his mechanical hand as it flitted deftly over the interface. An oppressive silence loomed between them since the airlock decompressed, a silence heavy with unspoken threats. Yet, Olivia was more disturbed by his refusal to engage with her, to even gesture or signal. She recalled his earlier speech: calm, firm, and almost kind. But she didn't even know his name. Worse, he hadn't asked for hers because he already knew it.

He needed no introduction, no inquiry; the drone had already divulged everything. Her entire identity was captured, recorded, and tagged. Her name, lineage, DNA, and station of origin are all cataloged from birth until now. That drone had stripped her of her identity, potentially transmitting it to someone who could access her entire data profile from the Confederate register. But because of distance, perhaps it would bide its time until they reached some far-flung, unknown port. Once there, he would relay her ID for scrutiny at the base. Then, someone she'd never met would unravel her data package and declare, Ah, salvage. Young, unclaimed, healthy. Useful. That thought sent shivers through Olvia, leaving her torn. She couldn't ignore the whispers about the fate of young thrall women, a destiny she feared yet couldn't entirely dismiss. Even Hans, whose kindness she cherished, had mentioned he wanted to buy that pretty thrall girl he admired at the greenhouse.

Placing herself in the shoes of that girl in the greenhouse shocked her. Laboring in silence, heavy, dirty work. Or something even worse. Her breath was shallow and labored. The helmet felt suffocating, even with ventilation, like the suit was a relentless vice. A desperate part of her yearned to cry out, demand answers from the stranger, and scream and break the oppressive silence. Still, her voice was shackled by her clenched teeth, and an unnamed fear coiled around her heart. Even as the pressure returned to the cargo bay, her mouth remained sealed. All Olivia could do was float there, adrift like forsaken cargo in the belly of a stranger's ship, as the door to her past slammed shut. A torrent of air swept through the shuttle bay, sealing her fate. She didn't want to be rootless thrall owned by someone.

Suddenly, a stranger turned to Olivia and spoke with a kind, all-knowing voice that resonated through the chaos, saying loudly and clearly that everything was normal and nothing unusual happened. "Ok, kid, let's get you out of that suit. It must be hard to be trapped there."

His tone startled Olivia and tore her tortured mind, as it seemed not to echo her inner feelings; it was an eternity away from the essence of her struggle. He stepped closer, his movements fluid and purposeful, and swung her suit around with practiced ease. The sensation of his hands guiding her felt like she was weightless, as though she was flying. The sound of the suit's seal clicking open was a melody of relief, each click a note of freedom. Yet, her heart was heavy, burdened with worries that seemed to ignite within her chest, threatening to burn their way out.

"I must apologize. I was rude and didn't introduce myself. Still, my excuse is that we were in a hurry," The stranger said, his voice imbued with a calm politeness that seemed out of place amidst Olivia's tragedy. She needed a more calming mother and warm lap than polite talk. All the stranger got as an answer was a stare of two large green eyes and fast, ragged breathing that blew fog on the helmet's visor.

Although Olivia barely registered his words, a sharp, sarcastic answer popped into her thoughts. Olivia wanted to point out that his calm demeanor belied the urgency of their situation as they moved through the station that was on the brink of flames. The retort danced on the tip of her tongue, but she chose to hold it back.

"My name is Aldo Varin; I'm a registered Salvage operator with license number SCL-7911-AX-9934," he continued, his words delivered with mechanical precision, like a well-programmed robot. At least now Olivia knew his name and his official credentials, though the string of numbers slipped from her mind as soon as he spoke them. Number screamed at her, a stark reminder of her current status. She was trapped in a registered salvage ship, the cold metal walls closing in around her. "We're in a serious rush now. I'm terrified another massive explosion is imminent, and we must put as much distance between us and the station as fast as possible."

But he moved with an almost eerie calmness as if he possessed an unerring instinct for the precise moment the explosion would erupt. Every step of his dance seemed orchestrated by an invisible countdown, each movement a calculated response to the impending chaos, it's timing perfectly mirrored on the visor before his eyes or reflected into his very retina.

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Digital Drapery CoMon, Apr 07

Karma: 13,152

This chapter carries a heavy silence
not just in sound, but in soul. Olivias fear seeps through every frame, and the render captures it perfectly: the way her body floats, unsure, while the armored figure commands the space like he owns fate itself. There's a brutal elegance in how the story blends technology, control, and vulnerability. The emotional disconnect between them is chilling
he's composed, almost rehearsed, while she's unraveling behind fogged glass. Its not just sci-fi; its psychological gravity, pulling the viewer into something deeper than survival. Stunning work, again.

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emarukk

Karma: 2,357

Mon, Apr 07

Thank you! Next, we need to open some secrets and move forward.