Грань будущего

           NowIseehim; hisbodyisstainedabloodyred. Hisscythe,atwo-meter-longbehemoth,isthesamevividshade. It’sactuallymoreofabattleaxethanascythe. Inaworldwherefriendandfoewearthesamedust-coloredcamouflage,hecastsagunmetalredglowinalldirections. 

           Deathrushesforward,swifterthanevenaMimic. AcrimsonlegkicksandIgoflying. 

           Myarmoriscrushed. Istopbreathing. Theskybecomestheground. Mydisplayisdrowninginredflashingwarnings. Icoughupblood,savingtherestofthewarningsthetrouble. 

           Thenmypiledriverfires. Theblastthrowsmeatleasttenmetersintotheair. BitsofthearmorplatingfromthebackofmyJacketscatteracrosstheground. Ilandupsidedown. 

           Deathswingshisbattleaxe. 

           Metalscreamsashecutsthroughtheuncuttable. Theaxecriesoutlikeafreighttrainscreechingtoahalt. 

           IseetheMimic’scarapacesailingthroughtheair. 

           *** 

           ItonlytookoneblowtoreducetheMimictoamotionlessheap. Ashensandpouredfromthegapingwound. Thetwohalvesofthecreatureshudderedandtwitched,eachkeepingitsownstrangerhythm. Acreaturehumanity’sgreatesttechnologicalinventionscouldbarelyscratch,laidwastebyabarbarianweaponfromathousandyearspast. 

           Deathturnedslowlytofaceme. 

           Amidthecrushofredwarninglightscrowdingmydisplay,asolegreenlightwinkedon. Anincomingfriendlytransmission. "…asalittle…kay?"Awoman’svoice. Impossibletomakeitoutoverthenoise. Icouldn’tstand. TheJacketwasspentandsowasI.