The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind. Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer. He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous. Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker. Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger. He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
The Chronicles of E.O.C: The Gun and the Sword
The carcasses of the hunt are strewn everywhere.
But I felt no compunction to scavenge for useful materials. For a moment my hunger for destruction is quenched, I rest my sword in its sheath, and I walked almost dazed.
Dazed? It should be an impossible sensation to have one for the likes of me. I have no nerves at the ends of my fingers. No bone marrow to generate the red blood cells. More so hormones that would trigger mind-confusing chemical imbalances in my brain.
I am a machine. My senses are perfect.
Yet my experience and battle prowess still is wanting. I must get stronger.
I returned to headquarters, stocked up on supplies, and headed to the Crag mining field. My mission is to hunt small Ledeudrians. I should be weary though, as the memo has warned: the Cora are on the move in that area, raiding the miners in their toil.
I've turned around and gazed at the giant teleportation platform. I may have been a cyborg, but my human brain has not diminished its sense of marvel. The tele-platform is a huge rotating device, continually generating space-time controlled distortions for Accretians to travel back and forth in hotly contested areas in Novus.
It has come a long way since the ancestors gave us the blue prints for this technology. And now it will take me to my new hunting ground.
So I walked to the platform, and let the visions from my optical sensors change abruptly.
As I stepped out, I knew something was wrong. Some of the miners are dead on the ground. All the other miners have turned their sensory systems off to conserve energy so they have not noticed this portent. These were protected by sentinel towers that's why they can do their mining operations without the element of danger. But not at the ones on the outer fringes of the portal.
I scouted the sorroundings, but I couldn't find the perpetrator.
I was about to lead off to the area inhabited by the Ledeudrians, until something whizzed pass me ...
to be continued
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