A Constant Relic
A powerful relic from the past remains, while the violence that surrounds it, keeps changing.
In the treacherous, muddy soil of Europe, a soldier stands inside a trench. Covered in filthy mud, protected by a gas mask, the soldier aimed his gun, peeking over the no man's land, with his comrades covering his sides.
The no man's land is drowned by thick, poisonous smoke. It's eerily silent, not a single noise, not even the faint wind can be heard. Then, slowly, a shadow fades in, followed by hundreds other. Gun fire raged on, followed by screams, and splatter of blood. The smoke becomes thicker, as thousands of smoking brass case is ejected out of the guns.
An enemy break through. The soldier, bravely tackled the enemy, bringing him to the ground. The trenches is falling under chaos, as friendly and enemies mixed. Swords unseathed, bayonets stabbed. Among the struggle, the two fight each other.
The soldier survived, but not victorious, as he killed his enemy. The eyes of his enemy stared at his heart blankly, devoid of life, and his face, it's not just full of anger but also full of madness.
The screams and the gunfire is muffled, as the soldier tries to comprehend the violence he inflicted upon another human being. He stared into the blank, muddy floor of the trench. But, a glimmer of light caught his eye.
He takes it from the dead body.
A gun, covered in mud yet shiny, small yet heavy. He can feel it. He can forget it. He forget the face that his enemy makes as he killed him. He feel a sudden rush of power.
He stands upright, unfazed, unseen, among the clashing crowd. He raised his weapon into the air, then he bring it down. His hand's steady, as he take aim. The clash ended as he starts killing everyone, no matter which side they're on.
It's not a battle between country anymore, as it's now a battle between him and every soldiers in the trench. Loud bangs followed, screams filled the air, as every soldiers tries to stop him. But, the more he kills, the more he becomes powerful, and the more he lost his mind.
At the end of his wrath. He stands on the pile of dead body. He killed hundreds, alone, helped by his new weapon. But, he realize something. This weapon, it possessed him. This weapon, it turned him into a monster. He can't bear that fact. As he stands on the pile of dead body, he aimed the weapon to his head, and join the pile.
A millennia passed, maybe more. The gun remain constant, while the battlefield and with it the human war, constantly changing, yet remains. The gun, while inanimate, it patiently waited for another wielder.
Then, in a fateful day, an Impossible odds happened. A future warrior stumbled upon the weapon.
Thousands of soldiers rushed around him, as he just stands there, staring at the gun on the ground. The gun, it invites him to hold it, to wields it's power.
The warrior let go of his plasma rifle, as his hand hesitated, and trembled to hold the ancient gun. Like a magnet sticking to iron, his hand is holding tight to the gun.
It gives him a revelation, a prophecy, and it gives him the resolve to continue fighting in the mindless and useless war.
He stands upright, unfazed, unseen, among the rushing soldiers. He raised the weapon into the air. With this weapon, he has one goal: to end the war. With him, the power of the gun is finally tamed.
As he fired the gun, hundred of times, bangs followed, blood splattered. The once muddy soil is now turned into dry land full of dust and human skeleton. Everyone around him is fighting against him.
He, with his weapon, takes an tragic route to end the war. With his ancient weapon, he intends to kill everyone. As he hopes, no human left means there will be no war to be fought.
Kinetic penetrator, plasma, laser, bombs, missiles, he takes them all, he deflected them all. The soldiers, and the countries of which they come from becomes desperate. Thousands, millions of people he slaughtered. Each shot is an earth-shattering thunder, inflicting death, pain, and suffering upon many people. He is an immortal, exerting an immense power. But, at what cost?
Then, a sudden, blindingly bright flash of light drowned him, followed by a tall, towering mushroom cloud. The soldier vanished, and with it, the ancient gun. He failed to achieve his goal, as humanity just moved on and started another petty war that will kill millions if not billions. As for the ancient gun, it's waiting somewhere, waiting patiently for a new wielder that it will grant immense power and immortality, even if it means wanting for another millennia.
The no man's land is drowned by thick, poisonous smoke. It's eerily silent, not a single noise, not even the faint wind can be heard. Then, slowly, a shadow fades in, followed by hundreds other. Gun fire raged on, followed by screams, and splatter of blood. The smoke becomes thicker, as thousands of smoking brass case is ejected out of the guns.
An enemy break through. The soldier, bravely tackled the enemy, bringing him to the ground. The trenches is falling under chaos, as friendly and enemies mixed. Swords unseathed, bayonets stabbed. Among the struggle, the two fight each other.
The soldier survived, but not victorious, as he killed his enemy. The eyes of his enemy stared at his heart blankly, devoid of life, and his face, it's not just full of anger but also full of madness.
The screams and the gunfire is muffled, as the soldier tries to comprehend the violence he inflicted upon another human being. He stared into the blank, muddy floor of the trench. But, a glimmer of light caught his eye.
He takes it from the dead body.
A gun, covered in mud yet shiny, small yet heavy. He can feel it. He can forget it. He forget the face that his enemy makes as he killed him. He feel a sudden rush of power.
He stands upright, unfazed, unseen, among the clashing crowd. He raised his weapon into the air, then he bring it down. His hand's steady, as he take aim. The clash ended as he starts killing everyone, no matter which side they're on.
It's not a battle between country anymore, as it's now a battle between him and every soldiers in the trench. Loud bangs followed, screams filled the air, as every soldiers tries to stop him. But, the more he kills, the more he becomes powerful, and the more he lost his mind.
At the end of his wrath. He stands on the pile of dead body. He killed hundreds, alone, helped by his new weapon. But, he realize something. This weapon, it possessed him. This weapon, it turned him into a monster. He can't bear that fact. As he stands on the pile of dead body, he aimed the weapon to his head, and join the pile.
A millennia passed, maybe more. The gun remain constant, while the battlefield and with it the human war, constantly changing, yet remains. The gun, while inanimate, it patiently waited for another wielder.
Then, in a fateful day, an Impossible odds happened. A future warrior stumbled upon the weapon.
Thousands of soldiers rushed around him, as he just stands there, staring at the gun on the ground. The gun, it invites him to hold it, to wields it's power.
The warrior let go of his plasma rifle, as his hand hesitated, and trembled to hold the ancient gun. Like a magnet sticking to iron, his hand is holding tight to the gun.
It gives him a revelation, a prophecy, and it gives him the resolve to continue fighting in the mindless and useless war.
He stands upright, unfazed, unseen, among the rushing soldiers. He raised the weapon into the air. With this weapon, he has one goal: to end the war. With him, the power of the gun is finally tamed.
As he fired the gun, hundred of times, bangs followed, blood splattered. The once muddy soil is now turned into dry land full of dust and human skeleton. Everyone around him is fighting against him.
He, with his weapon, takes an tragic route to end the war. With his ancient weapon, he intends to kill everyone. As he hopes, no human left means there will be no war to be fought.
Kinetic penetrator, plasma, laser, bombs, missiles, he takes them all, he deflected them all. The soldiers, and the countries of which they come from becomes desperate. Thousands, millions of people he slaughtered. Each shot is an earth-shattering thunder, inflicting death, pain, and suffering upon many people. He is an immortal, exerting an immense power. But, at what cost?
Then, a sudden, blindingly bright flash of light drowned him, followed by a tall, towering mushroom cloud. The soldier vanished, and with it, the ancient gun. He failed to achieve his goal, as humanity just moved on and started another petty war that will kill millions if not billions. As for the ancient gun, it's waiting somewhere, waiting patiently for a new wielder that it will grant immense power and immortality, even if it means wanting for another millennia.
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