The year was 3237, and the Earth was unrecognizable. Towering glass spires pierced through clouds of vibrant, artificial hues. The sun was a mere accessory to the luminescent streaks dominating the sky—blue, violet, and gold pathways carved by countless sky-shuttles. The old world was buried beneath layers of neon and concrete, but its echoes lived on in whispers, artifacts, and ghosts.
Kiran Drake stood on the glass edge of his skydeck, looking down at the cityscape of Neo-Tokyo Nine. His reflection stared back at him, the cybernetic implants across his right temple catching the neon lights behind him. His physique was lean but sinewy, his dark copper skin glowing faintly under the artificial lights. A navy synth-leather jacket with silver seams clung to his form, its high collar shielding his neck from the ether-laden chill of high altitudes. His black boots, polished to a mirror sheen, tapped against the edge, impatient.
But it was his eyes that betrayed him—one natural, human brown, and the other a chilly, glowing cerulean. A relic from an accident long forgotten, or so he claimed. People whispered he’d seen things in the realms of light most humans could never comprehend. They weren’t entirely wrong.
In his hand, he turned the object he’d risked his life to acquire: the Luminal Dagger. Roughly the size of a dirk, it shimmered and pulsated faintly with an electric blue light. They said it was forged from Cherenkov-radiant particles harvested straight from the custom plasma pools of the Martian Expanse. A weapon born of light outrunning itself.
The Deal of Shadows
“You’re going to get yourself killed, Kiran,” a voice chimed from the shadows. Emerging from the depths of the penthouse was Yelena Tahir, her tall silhouette draped in a flowing crimson cloak. Underneath, she wore a flexible metallic bodysuit that clung like liquid steel. Her hair, silver as moonlight, was cropped short, enhancing sharp cheekbones and almond-shaped, piercing green eyes.
“Too late for that,” Kiran replied, his tone flat. “The moment I took this job, the countdown started.” He held the dagger up to inspect its glow. “The light of death, they call it. The only blade that can pierce the Phase Warden’s armor.”
“And yet, you’re admiring it like it’s a priceless sculpture,” Yelena quipped, stepping closer. Her boots clicked softly against the glass. “You know what they say about it—the one who wields the Luminal Dagger never gets to survive its use. Whether it’s the light poisoning or the Warden’s retaliation… no one has lived. Not even the Phase Lords.”
Kiran turned to her, his jacket catching a swirl of holographic spark. “Do you know where the Warden’s been hiding?” His voice was sharp now, slicing through Yelena’s hesitation like the blade in his hand.
She sighed and nodded. “The Osmium Chasm. Out past the shattered orbit of Deimos. If you go, you won’t come back. You barely made it out alive with that knife; challenging him in his seat of power is suicide.”
“It’s not about coming back,” Kiran said, slipping the dagger into the holster at his side. “It’s about finishing what the old world couldn’t. No more dynasties of control, no more banded cities spreading zones of oppression and dissonance. The Warden has to fall.”
The Ethereal Duel
The Osmium Chasm was an abyss so dark it swallowed light—nearly. Except for one spiraling core of sapphire luminescence stretching downward in shimmering coils, it was a void. Kiran descended in his Traverse Harness, its exo-tethers glowing faintly to guide him toward a singular platform in the midst of endless shadow.
Standing there, like a lord from the legends of antiquity, was the Phase Warden. A towering figure clad in searing, radiant armor that shifted hues with each subtle movement. His face was hidden behind a smooth, featureless mask that projected light patterns like rippling water. Eight floating orbs—Phase Guardians—circled him, each glowing with a terrible might that forced Kiran to squint.
“You’ve brought the Dagger,” the Warden’s voice boomed, reverberating in unseen dimensions. It was both a question and a prophecy.
Kiran landed lightly, his boots finding the cold surface. The glow of the chasm reflected in his mismatched eyes as he took a step forward. “Only need one shot to end you,” he said, his voice ice-cold but his grip on the hilt of the dagger burning fiercely.
The Warden didn’t laugh. He didn’t need to. With a sweep of his arm, the Phase Guardians surged forward, threads of light trailing their movements. Kiran moved almost before his mind could react—his reflexes honed by cybernetic enhancements and the adrenaline of a thousand impossible heists. The dagger sang as it cut through the air, disrupting the guardians' plasma forms and breaking them into pools of light.
The Warden, surprisingly swift, closed the distance. His armor shone bright enough to sear Kiran's cybernetic eye. The two clashed—one man and one luminal god—trading strikes that bent the very fabric of light and sound. Each swing of the Luminal Dagger sizzled, carving temporary voids in the Warden’s radiant armor, but each counter strike frayed Kiran’s jacket, his gear, and his flesh.
The Final Cut
Kiran knew he wouldn’t last long. His human heart was slowing, his body succumbing to the oppressive energy emitted by the Warden. But as his strength waned, the dagger’s brilliance grew more intense. It was alive with purpose, with legacy, and with vengeance.
Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Kiran feinted left, knowing the Warden’s radiant form would tilt slightly to follow. In that split second, with precision that bordered on divine, he plunged the Luminal Dagger into the Warden’s chest.
The blue light surged outward, engulfing the chasm in a tidal wave of energy. Kiran collapsed to his knees as the Warden’s form unraveled into cascading tendrils of light, dissolving into the abyss. The chasm itself began to tremble, the spirals of sapphire collapsing inward like a dying star.
And then, silence.
Epilogue
Kiran’s body was never found. The Luminal Dagger had vanished with him, or perhaps dissolved into the cosmos alongside its final quarry. But the Phase Warden’s reign was over. Across the Terran Rings, the sentient cities announced the fall of their greatest oppressor. New waves of freedom rippled through civilizations, though many quietly wondered if Kiran Drake had truly sacrificed himself—or if, somehow, his reflection still lingered in the moments where light bent in ways it shouldn’t.
Far above it all, in the faint gleam of a satellite shard orbiting Mars, a lone figure gazed down at Neo-Tokyo Nine, his mismatched eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
The legend continued.
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: When Matter Exceeds Light Speed… THIS Happens
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