The hum of Kaida's ship filled the cabin, a faint vibration that mirrored the storm brewing in her mind. She leaned against the control panel, her crimson eyes tracing the stars streaking past. The weight of her synthetic body was a constant reminder of what she had lost.
Her hands moved mechanically, inspecting herself for signs of Father's control. She knew there had to be trackers embedded in her, remnants of the organization's leash. Slowly, methodically, she ran her fingers across her metallic skin, searching for the telltale bumps.
Behind her ear, she found the first. With her enhanced precision, Kaida gripped the delicate device and pulled it out, the faint buzz of its signal dying in her hands. She examined it briefly before crushing it beneath her boot.
Next was her forearm, where another chip lay hidden beneath a plate of synthetic muscle. Using a small tool from her belt, she carefully pried it free, her motions swift but steady. The chip clattered onto the console, joining its destroyed companion.
But her body wasn't entirely her own—not yet. She couldn't remove the deeper chips: the one embedded in her spinal cord and another buried in her brain. She needed experts to deal with those. And she knew exactly where to go.
Her mission logs lay open before her, a catalog of death and destruction. Each entry was a painful reminder of what she had done. One mission, however, stood out: Syndora, the planet of master engineers. The organization had sent her to destroy their operations, accusing them of arming the resistance. But to Kaida, Syndora was an opportunity—a place where she could finally break free.
"I'll turn this mission into my salvation," she murmured.
She wasn't afraid of the risk. If her plan failed, she'd die. But if she stayed in Father's grasp, she'd be dead anyway.
Syndora was a wasteland of industry, its skies choked with smog and its ground scarred by molten rivers of slag. Towering factories hummed with endless activity, their machines spewing fire and ash into the toxic atmosphere.
Kaida's ship cut through the clouds, landing in the middle of a desolate factory yard. The engineers, clad in oil-stained overalls, stood in a line before her. At their head was a grizzled man with a jagged scar running down his cheek. His weary eyes met hers, and he instinctively touched his scar.
Behind him, a younger engineer stepped forward, defiant. His boldness came from hearing stories of Kaida, not from experience. The older man grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
"Not her," he hissed.
Kaida approached, her every step radiating authority. Oblivion Edge gleamed on her back, a promise of violence.
"You've been arming the resistance," she said coldly. "That ends today."
The younger man sneered. "We're not soldiers. We're engineers. What do you want from us?"
Kaida's eyes narrowed. "I want your expertise. You'll remove the chips in my spinal cord and brain."
The older man shook his head. "Impossible. One wrong move, and—"
Kaida held up a detonator. "I've planted bombs on your greatest machines. If I don't wake up to disarm them, everything you've built dies with me."
The younger man faltered. "You're bluffing."
Kaida tilted her head. "Try me."
The older man stepped forward, his gaze hardening. "I've seen her before. She's not bluffing."
Kaida's gaze flicked to his scar. "I don't remember you."
"You wouldn't," he said quietly. "You've left too many scars to count."
Kaida smirked faintly. "Then you know what happens if you fail me.
Kaida lay strapped to the surgical table, the cold metal pressing against her synthetic skin. The chief and his team moved around her with trembling hands.
The chief glanced at her, his voice strained. "We'll start with the spinal chip. If we sever the wrong nerve…"
Kaida cut him off. "Do it. I don't care about the risks."
The room fell silent as the procedure began. Hours passed, each second dragging as the engineers worked with surgical precision.
Kaida's mind drifted. She wasn't afraid. If they failed, she would die on her own terms—better than living as Father's puppet.
Finally, the chief held up the last chip, his hands trembling. "It's done."
Kaida sat up, rolling her shoulders. For the first time in years, she felt free.
She disarmed the detonator. "You live another day."
The engineers exhaled in relief. The younger man avoided her gaze, but the older one studied her with a mix of fear and respect.
Kaida's freedom was short-lived. Father's wrath descended upon her like a storm. The hunters—a division bred in shadows—were unleashed. These weren't soldiers; they were predators.
Kaida moved from planet to planet, always one step ahead. The hunters were relentless, their skills honed for tracking and ambush. They were the shadows in the dark, the whispers before death.
One day, Kaida turned the tables. She ambushed a lone hunter, engaging him in a brutal fight. The battle was swift and bloody, her years of training finally overwhelming her opponent.
As she searched his ship, she found coordinates leading back to the heart of the organization.
Her lips curled into a grim smile. "Time to end this."
Kaida entered the hunter's ship, activating its systems with ease. The ship's design was sleek and stealth-oriented, built for quiet infiltration and quick strikes. As she set the coordinates and engaged the autopilot, a twisted sense of satisfaction bubbled within her. She was using their own tools against them.
The stars streaked past the windows as the ship approached its destination.
The hum of her ship faded as Kaida landed. Her heart pounded as she stepped out, Oblivion Edge ready, and walked toward the looming structure. Every step felt like the weight of the world pressing on her chest. This was the end of the line.
Inside, Father stood, waiting in the shadows. The air was thick with tension. His silhouette loomed in the dim light, silent and imposing.
"You've come," Father's voice broke the stillness. It was calm, almost approving, but there was something in his tone that made Kaida's skin crawl.
"I've come to end this," Kaida's voice was cold, her words cutting through the silence.
Slowly, Father removed his helmet. His face was a mix of pale blue skin and sharp features, but it was his eyes—silver, glowing—that pierced through her. Kaida froze, taking in the strange figure before her. She had never seen this man, yet there was something deeply familiar about him.
For a moment, the air was still. He stood there, unblinking, as if the mask was merely a barrier that no longer mattered. Then, he spoke.
"I am Xaros," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of the name, as if it had not been spoken for centuries. Kaida felt the words wash over her, and it was as if time itself had paused, stunned by the sheer strangeness of hearing it. The name had not crossed lips in over a hundred years, perhaps longer. The sound of it felt foreign, even in the depths of her mind.
"Xaros..." she repeated, unsure of why it felt so wrong. "Who are you?"
Xaros stepped forward, his eyes glowing faintly, his demeanor a mixture of sorrow and cold resolve. "I was the tool they used. The weapon they sent to destroy, to create fear. I was part of their system. I worked for them. But now…" He took another step, his voice heavy with finality. "Now, I betray them."
Kaida stood motionless, her sword trembling in her grip. "And you think that will change anything?"
Xaros smiled faintly, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "I never knew the key. They used me as their puppet, Kaida. I was nothing but a piece on their chessboard. I did what I had to do to survive. To keep their fears alive. But all that was a lie. I am not part of their plan. I was just a tool. You... you are the weapon. You will destroy them."
His words hit her like a sudden storm. The betrayal, the lies, everything she thought she knew crumbled in an instant. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she held her ground.
"You killed millions," Kaida spat, her voice raw with fury. "You're no different from them. Just another puppet, pulling strings and causing chaos. What makes you any better?"
Xaros's gaze softened, his voice tinged with regret. "Don't you want to know the truth, Kaida? The truth about everything you've been made to believe? The truth about who you are and why you're here?"
Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, confusion and anger flooding her mind. "What truth?"
Xaros took a slow step forward, his eyes locking with hers. "I wasn't always like this. My people… my planet was destroyed by the very organization you're fighting. They wiped us out to prevent us from ever challenging their reign. I was the last of my kind. They took me, broke me, turned me into their weapon. And they did the same to you."
Kaida stood frozen, her sword trembling in her grip. The weight of his words crashed down on her. The memories—the missions, the pain, the never-ending battles—began to flood her mind, twisting and reshaping her understanding of everything.
Xaros continued, his voice quiet but filled with conviction. "I never had the chance to choose. But you… you do. You were made to destroy them, to end it all. And when the time comes, you will be the one to bring it all crashing down."
Kaida's chest tightened, the rage she had lived with for so long now giving way to something darker, more painful. She had been a weapon, a tool, and now, she understood. It was all part of their grand design. And yet, her mind screamed for vengeance.
But then, Xaros took a step closer, his expression twisting into something colder. "And here you are, standing in front of me, seeking justice for your friends," he said, his tone dripping with mocking disdain. "The very same friends you couldn't save. How many were they? Four? Such a small number, yet you still mourn them. You kill thousands without a second thought, and yet, four lives have become your moral compass."
Kaida's fist clenched, her body tensing with the weight of his words. "Don't speak of them," she growled, her voice trembling with the urge to strike.
Xaros smiled, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Ah, but that's what you are, isn't it? A destroyer. A weapon forged in blood and fire. You killed them all, didn't you? Your team. You were always too strong for them, always a step ahead. But in the end, they couldn't escape. And now you stand here, feeling sorry for them, when the truth is, you were the one who sealed their fate the moment you joined the organization. How quaint. A warrior who's too weak to understand her own power."
Kaida's face twisted with fury, and she lunged forward, her sword raised. The confrontation had reached its peak. The truth burned inside her, mixing with the rage that had been building for years.
With one fluid motion, Kaida's blade sliced through the air. It was so fast, so clean, that Xaros had no time to react. His head fell from his shoulders in a single, perfect strike. The sound of his body hitting the ground was barely heard before Kaida had already sheathed her sword.
She stood over his lifeless form, her chest heaving. Her hands trembled, but her expression remained cold. No satisfaction filled her. The battle was over, but she knew it wasn't the end.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held the weight of a thousand battles. "This is only the beginning."