kayonaku

As we walked, I adjusted my new gun. I hooked my wrist through the metal band, watching as it automatically adjusted to my size. I gripped the handle of the gun, my left hand support the weight of it. I experimentally peeked through the scope. With just a thought, the scope zoomed in and out to my will. "Damn," was all I managed to mumble. Tristan stared wide-eyed. "Woah what's the nanobot requirement for that thing?" he demanded. "Probably too high for you muscle boy," I answered, lowering the gun so I could watch where I was walking. All around us people were running, trying to figure out what was going on. It was organized chaos, the usu

The ballroom is in pieces; furniture destroyed, priceless artifacts stolen, paintings ripped of their frames.  A man walks among the destruction. His hand runs along a pillar, destroyed and rough to the touch. Footsteps echo on the marble floor, the rich color tainted by a layer of dust. The sound makes his heart throb. As he steps into the center of the dark, damp room, his sorrow escalates. The cold air nips at his skin, flushing his fair skinned face. As he stands there, he can't help but remember. The orchestra is holding their breath, violins held at ready. Numerous figures, dark faces he would never remember surround him, all waiting.