The air is blazing all around me. The world has caught fire.

But I don't care. All I can see right now is her. Her
long black hair, loosened from the helmet, getting soiled from
the blood on my arms as I gently cradle her head.

My...

What I wouldn't give for all that blood to be mine.

That awful red runs all the way down from her scalp. Her ivory
face is streaked with it. As she coughs, more spills out, ironically
coloring her lips a shade of crimson that rivals the hue they
normally hold. She looks up at me through those ebony eyes, and
the pain they reflect only serves to intensify my own. She's suffering
greatly, and it's easy to see why. Her body has been broken. The
impact had all but completely destroyed her, turning even the
very bones that built her into blades that gashed at her from
within, while splinters of metal and glass shredded her body from
the outside. Nothing had been spared.

I snap my attention back to her face, which has seen the least
of this destructive force. She strains in quiet agony, and seeing
her like this, in the glow of the fire that devours her jetbike,
makes it seem as though she's caught in a living Hell. I gently
try to bring her closer, run my fingers through her bloodied hair,
try to comfort her in any way I can...

she...

Her eyes focus in on mine, and they seem more peaceful now.
I give a brief sigh of relief, but that relief is quickly swept
away with the realization that this may be a sign she's close
to the end... in my panic, there is but one concern that stands
above the many others...

..tell her, you damn fool...

...I struggle, knowing that time is not on my side, and I find
myself praying to anyone who will hear me, not to let her die...

...please....not until I tell her,
not until she knows...

tell her, tell her, why can't you
tell her?

My prayers fall upon deaf ears. She gives me one last gaze,
and then closes her eyes.

I should have told her

I missed my chance

why the hell couldn't I say anything?

what the hell is going on?

My heart is screaming. I raise my tear-filled eyes towards
the heavens and ready my lungs to unleash this wretched howl,
but one thing stops me.

She's still breathing.

My mind races-- even with this slight reprieve, there's no
telling how much longer she'll last... somehow I know there's
no way I could get her anywhere in time... it would take a miracle.

And as soon as that thought passes through my mind, I get up,
still holding her in my arms, and start running for my bike. I
know where to go.

"The notion is not entirely impossible... robots, on
their own, have been known to develop their own personalities,
display emotions... every mental aspect of a living being. If
such a mind is capable of these things, then why not endow it
with an actual soul?"

"I don't quite understand where you're going with this..."

"Look at it this way. Technology is powered by Mana.
All of creation, indeed, is formed from Mana. Including you and
I. It is the stuff that life is made of... and by extension, the
stuff that makes up our very souls."

"What are you getting at?"

"What if one were to 'gather up' the Mana that formed
a human soul, and transfer it-- as a whole-- into something else?
Would not the soul, in such a way, be preserved?"

"That's utter madness. Machinery powered by souls?"

"It is a way to begin life anew... the mortal flesh
is a flawed vessel... if we were to create a structure truly worthy
of housing such a noble thing as the soul... there would be no
end to the possibilities!"

The two men paused as something toppled over outside the
door. Grinning rather sheepishly, the young janitor quietly righted
the overturned trash can and scurried away.

The building hums in the still of the late night, the only
illumination coming from the dim fluorescent emergency lights.
I suppose I'd find it creepy if I actually gave a damn. Right
now it's all I can do to remember where the room was-- I have
to hurry, she's still breathing, but she's getting weaker with
every moment. So am I, I know, but fear keeps pushing me further..
I can hold out a lot longer than she can.

I finally catch sight of a room with the lights still on. And
there he is, standing hunched over god-knows-what sort of contraption.
I screech to a halt in front of the doorway and barge in.

The old man doesn't even look up at first. "Well well,
working late, are we?" He chortles as he turns-- and stops
short when he sees.

"She's dying..." I can barely choke out the words.
"I heard what you were talking about... and if what you say
is true... you could save her, couldn't you...?" My legs
are starting to shake. I don't think I can even stand up much
longer.. "..please..."

"Put her on the table," he says. I walk over and
place her gently next to the strange device he's tinkering with...
then my knees get weak, my legs give out, and the world gets blurry,
then black.

...if I had been ahead in that race...
how different things would have been... it would have been me,
not her... Look how she suffers... and all because of me...

I wake up to find a different place altogether. The area is
much less cramped and confined than the workroom, and yet filled
with so much more gadgetry and clutter. I sit up in what seems
to be a hastily constructed cot. It feels like I've been sleeping
for days. Then it hits me. I leap out of bed-- feel really dizzy
for a sec-- and start frantically searching the area.

"Gracious... you're finally awake, are you?" I meet
the old man's gaze and he smiles. "You needn't worry about
you friend. She's all right now.."

Relief washes over me, and I sigh. "Where is she?"

"Come with me." I follow him through this maze of
technological bric-a-brac. Some of these things-- hell, a lot
of these things are really strange... I've never seen anything
like them, not even in the lab where I work...

"...where are we?"

"This is my personal workshop," he replies with more
than a hint of pride. "We had to move over here, you see,
because they don't seem to take too kindly to my work back at
the lab... We're a bit isolated out here, but the peace and quiet
is quite a boon."

We stop in front of a cluttered table, upon which lies a metal
mockery of a human female torso, with a strange glowing stone
in its chest cavity. The machinery has what would pass for a head,
but not much else. I look around, and find no sign of her.

"Where is she?"

"Why, right in front of you." The man gestures at
this grotesque thing on the table. I start to feel dizzy again.

"That... she's... that's not Lionne..."

"What you see before you is the beginning of a new life
for-- Lionne, was it? The stone houses her soul. It is encased
in what will become her new body."

"But this..." I gaze at this abomination of wires.
"It's horrible. It isn't human..."

"Well, I was hoping for your assistance on that part."
The old man steeples his fingers. "You see, the body is obviously
unfinished... unfortunately, I have neither the resources to fully
complete it nor the funds to acquire such resources... but with
an able-bodied youth like yourself..."

So this was his game. He needed a stooge, and now that her
life was in his hands... there was nowhere to go. I would do what
had to be done. So I agree.

"I didn't think you would be too opposed to the idea..."
He walks over to a desk, upon which a set of blueprints have been
spread out. "We'll start on our little 'scavenger hunt' tomorrow.
Until then, just relax, and prepare yourself. There isn't much
here, but do try and make yourself at home. There are rooms upstairs...
I suppose I was so absorbed in working on your friend, it entirely
slipped my mind at the time."

I nod again and start up the stairs, but then I stop. "...where's...
what did you do with... the rest of her?"

He points down a hallway. "The door at the end leads outside.
Check around the back of the grounds..."

"Thanks." I wander down the hall and head out.

Iron Writer: techromancy pt. II

The grave was unmarked, so I found a bit of flimsy scrap metal
and set to work engraving it with my penknife. As I finish the
last few strokes, I brush it off a bit more and look at it, satisfied
with my work for now. Gently, I set it at one end of the grave,
burrowing it into the soil just enough to give it a steady hold
there. I step back and gaze at it once again, reading over the
name it bears.

It's not much, I know, but I honestly can't think of anything
else to say. What can one do to honor the temporary dead? I remain
at the gravesite long enough to send up a small prayer of thanks
and hope. Then, it's off to prepare...

...why is all this happening? Why
this sudden change in fate? It's all so strange... she's there,
she's alive, I know, but I still can't reach out... she's in a
different world. If only I could speak to her for just a moment...
just so I could tell her...

As the alarm sounds with its harsh, buzzing cry, I'm already
starting to make a break for it with the loot. Thankfully, it's
a lighter quarry this time... more of those fancy wires, a few
bits of circuitry, and a couple pounds of this polymer stuff that
ol' man Fodi uses to make the outer casings. A skittering noise
comes from behind, as metal insectoid legs quickly move over the
smooth, hard floors. A single glance tells me what I'm up against--
a few small Buggers, older and weaker than their battlefield counterparts.
I reach around and fire a few shots at them, still running all
the while. The hallway is lit up each time the Wondershot discharges,
and eventually a couple of the droids fall.

There's still one left, though, and I find myself running out
of hallway. I see a door, but the damn thing's probably locked,
so I do what I can and shoot at the hinges. The door itself seems
to be pretty damn heavy... I mutter a curse as a few shots from
the remaining Bugger just barely miss me. One of them manages
to graze my arm, and it stings like a bitch. The hinges start
to give way... unfortunately, the little bastard is still going
strong. I keep firing, alternating between the droid and the door,
and do my best to evade when the tin terror fires back at me.
Finally, the hinges start to creak and give... when they're just
one shot away, I leap away, past the Bugger. The droid turns around...
persistent little bastard doesn't quite seem to know when to give
up... I dodge one more shot and can't help but grin as I fire
one last time.

The door falls on the bug, and the droid becomes no more than
a pile of smashed techno-guts under the weight. Fitting end, really.
I run through the doorway, home free.

It's a short ride back to the workshop. As I walk in, with
the bag of loot slung over my shoulder, the new Lionne looks up
at me and smiles. Ol' Fodi's really done a good job on her so
far.... though, while the outside is a pretty faithful rendition
of the way she looked, she's still different, somehow, in the
way she acts... she's more like a child. She's got no memories
of the past, which upset me at first... but I know that deep down
inside, she's still the Lionne I've always known. And that's all
that matters... isn't it?

She slides off the table and onto her (slightly wobbly) temporary
legs. Carefully, she walks over to me-- and I towards her, of
course.

"Mr. Feayn's been waiting for you," she says. I flinch
a bit-- formalities like that really don't fit her style, even
though it's what ol' man Fodi prefers. Ah well, I suppose she
owes at least that much to the guy.

I smile at her. "He won't be disappointed, that's for
sure." She smiles even more, but that expression fades when
she sees my arm.

"Oh! You're hurt..."

"It's nothing, really. Won't take me too long to fix up."

"I'll help you with it..." She starts to reach for
my arm, but I stop her and put a hand on her cheek. I still marvel
at the fact that it's actually rather warm to the touch-- not
cold as I'd originally anticipated (and feared).

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about it. I've gotta show this
stuff to ol' man Fodi, but I'll be back real soon, all right?
Just sit tight."

She smiles. "All right." As I head off to Feayn's
office, she boosts herself back up onto the table and sits, waiting
for me. It's really kinda sweet.

The old man treats her more like she's just another experiment...that
kinda gives me the creeps. Then again, seeing the attraction between
Lionne and I weirds him out a bit... who knows, maybe he was planning
on building a male 'bot as her companion. Heh. Sorry to wreck
his plans...

Still, I'm not entirely used to the whole mad scientist bit.
Fodi's a weird guy... doesn't talk much about anything else besides
'the Lazarus project', which is his fancy name for what we're
doing with Lionne. I can't quite figure out where he's from. Seems
like he's done a whole lot of travelling, though, from what I've
been able to gather. And he doesn't let me call him "Doc"
or "Prof." like the other scientists back at the lab...
which is why I just call 'im "old man" (which he seems
to tolerate well enough). Maybe someday I'll have him figured
out... not likely, though.

Fodi gives me the usual. He looks over the booty, nods, grunts
approvingly. "Very good, yes, this is just what I need..."
Same line. Every time. Who the hell is ever that repetitive? He
looks up at me, and I know there's still more to fetch. There
always is. But this time, he looks more serious than usual.

"We must exercise much more caution from now on,"
he says. "They're catching on to us."

I'm not so worried. How much worse could it get?

He seems to sense this. "You may not be aware of this...
but there are corporations out there who are quite... interested....
in my work." 'My work' my ass... "If they were
to find us, they'd kill us, and take Lionne... most likely she'd
spend the rest of her days being examined. Piece by piece."

I shudder at the thought. There's no way I could let anything
like that happen to her... not after all this... "Isn't there
some way we could escape?"

"Yes..." he muses. "I'm sure we could come up
with some sort of plan..."

So we do. It's a fairly basic idea... if there's trouble, and
I'm on my way to or from a raid, the old man'll send up a flare,
and then he an' Lionne'll get out. He's got another lab squirreled
away a couple miles from here, and they can get there via telepod
while I meet up with 'em by bike. Not terribly complex, but it's
just what we need. I thank the old man and head off to rejoin
Lionne, as promised.

Iron Writer: techromancy pt. III

"I'm afraid..."

I look up into Lionne's eyes. She does have some cause for
concern... I'm going on a big raid tonight, and it didn't help
much when the old man told her about the new worries.

"I'll be fine, Lionne." I grin. "They haven't
been able to stop me before, eh?"

"Yes, but this time... I just have such a bad feeling
about it..."

I can't blame her. So do I, though I don't know why... but
I can't let it show. Instead, I take her hand reassuringly, and
gaze into her ebony eyes.

"Listen to me. Nothing can tear us apart... no matter
what happens, we'll always end up together in the end..."

where did these words come from?

and why can't I let myself place my faith in them...

...tell her...

I steel myself, and keep my gaze locked in hers. "...because
I love you... and that love is so strong, we've defied death itself...
and I'd do it ten times over again, if only to be with you..."

She shyly averts her eyes, and it appears she doesn't know
what to say... I hate to admit it, but I'm turning a little red,
myself... nevertheless, I pull her close and kiss her...

...she knows...

it's not the same...

it isn't real...

if only....

As I depart that evening, I see her at the window. She waves
to me, beckons me back for a moment. I oblige, riding over, bike
and all.

I glance around the place... the house itself is actually a
pretty archaic structure... but it's nice. I'd take wood and stone
over cold metal any day... and with Lionne at the window... I
don't think there's anyplace else I'd rather be...

"Be careful..." she says, and those ebony eyes look
so sad...

"I'll be back soon enough," I say. "In the meantime...
watch for me by moonlight..." the phrase rings poetically
in my ears. I kinda like the sound of it. "I'll return by
moonlight, though hell should bar the way..."

And with that I ride off, to the west, and towards the new
dangers that await me.

...please, not until I tell her..
not until she knows...

 

...not until she knows...

 

     

...she knows...

Hired thugs crouched at every window-- powerful mercenaries,
bought and paid for by whoever was after her...

Lionne stood, limbs bound, and forced to watch at the window
for her love's return... never before had she felt so alone...
she was terrified, and her heart jumped once again as her sharpened
senses picked up on the jetbike's approach... luckily, it would
be a few moments before the others could see it coming... now
was the time to act. She would not... could not be a party
to this deathtrap... and so, there was really only one thing she
could do.

Slowly, wrists still bound, she felt her way down her back
until she found a panel, and clumsily forced it open, revealing
a switch that only she and Mr. Feayn knew about. Before the mercs
could react, she tripped the switch and an internal voice began
to count down...

 

five

why did it have to end up this way?

 

four

she doesn't deserve to go through
this again...

 

three

not again...

 

two

please...

 

one

if only...

Her chest shattered as a mammoth blast sent a shockwave
of light and energy across the room, engulfing everyone..

As I ride up the road, I notice a huge flash of light coming
from the house... ol' man Fodi must have some damn powerful flares.
I turn the bike northward and head to the hiding place, hoping
that everyone's all right.

When I get there, the place is empty. I start to panic, and
serarch the whole area... finally, I come across the telepod that
links this place to the main workshop... soon I have it up and
running, and I step on, hoping for the best... fearing the worst.

The place is a shambles. Entire tables overturned, machinery
smashed--it's a wonder they missed the telepod-- and blueprints
torn and scattered all over the place.

As I wade through the debris, I nearly trip over something...
I look down, and my heart drops into my stomach. There, lying
on the ground, are the mortal remains of Fodi Feayn. They blew
his head off.

I run upstairs, to Lionne's room.

But nothing can prepare me for that.




Iron Writer: techromancy pt. IV

Next thing I know, I'm running back to the telepod, back to
the other lab, and my bike. I ride off to the southwest, as fast
as the damned thing can go.