[color=lightblue]"You forgot one thing Salt. Always bring insurance."[/color]
The safe house is surrounded by dozens of SWAT officers, armed with automatic rifles and stun batons. Red dots from faraway snipers are trained on their chests.
A sting. Fuck.
An officer shouts over the megaphone.
"Running won't do you any good! Drop your weapons and put your hands up!"
Sister waves them off.
[color=lightblue]"Hold your fire boys! What we have is personal."[/color]
She stares you down. You stand forty feet part, but her eyes pierce you down to your core.
You briefly consider surrender, but this ***** has been a thorn in your side since the beginning. If you are going to end this, now is your chance.
Your allies stand behind you. Knife holds your little boy in his arms.
What will you do?
The rounds stun her and knock her back. At first you breath a sigh of relief. Your expression turns to one of shock and horror as Sister's body spasms and repairs itself.
She smiles at you. Half her face has been blown away, revealing the cybernetic exoskeleton underneath.
[color=lightblue]"What's the matter, Salt? You looked so tough."[/color]
Your sword connects with Trilby's bolt of lightning, giving your weapon an elemental damage boost. A billion volts of electricity courses through the blade as you strike the girl.
She blocks the blade with her left arm. The blast of lightning harmlessly arcs over her metal body, coursing back into you.
You collapse to the street, paralyzed.
[color=lightblue][code]"PFFTAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
She looks down at you, that wicked smile on her face. She knows she has already won.
Sister turns away without saying a word. She motions to the captain and leaves.
You are cuffed and hauled away. For several months you are locked away in a solitary room, your body kept alive only by machines.
Feeling slowly returns to your body. First to your shoulders, then to your chest and arms. Your fists are clenched as tight as that day, and you fear they will stay that way for the rest of your life.
You are wheeled into court. After a short trial, the jury issues two life sentences for second degree murder and fraud. You do not say a word in your defense. There is no way you can justify your actions.
You are wheeled back to your hospital room. The doors are sealed for good. The last eighty years of your life are spent staring at the walls of your room.
There is no room for grief.
There is no room for hate.
The game is over.
You have lost.
You sit in front of a wide desk. A stack of papers is in front of you. Several space cops stand by your side.
The lawyer clears his throat.
"We need your signature, Saltarius."
Your name is Saltarius. And you are master of the known universe.
Granted, the known universe is a Mall hurdling through unknown space. But still. Not too shabby a position.
As mentioned before, you are sitting at your desk. The lawyer anticipates your signature on a stack of papers.
This all seems very familiar to you.
What will you do?