A Perfection of Error by Mike Kay
I was dying.
The blazing fire throughout my system was winning. It was taking me away.
I looked out
at the incredible blue sky, filled with bolts of light. I looked down, to
behold a scene that called up all my inner rebellion. I tried, as if I was
simply imagining things, to make this reality change. I struggled to move into
a better space, but it was to no avail. I could do nothing. I could alter
nothing. I was swept along, helpless and hopeless in an irresistible current,
and as I ceased my struggle, I moved my attention to observe the drama
unfolding before me.
The blasted
city sprawled out under the intense sky, crazy angles, amid impossible streets.
Everywhere were the bolts of light, red and blue, held as weapons by armies of
armored warriors, thrown with impossible speed and strength, to arc across the
sky. The warriors were all identical in their silver grey armor, human forms,
all identical save for the colour of the light they brandished.
They fought
in a huge running battle, as I moved with them, too fast to catch a breath,
leaping over piles of rubble, great ruins of a once prosperous culture, flowing
with the combat at incredible speed. None spoke, nor even acknowledged my
presence. It was a mad dash for death. Then, as suddenly as it began, I was
left behind in the echoes. The battle moved onward, and I was left alone, until
the vision returned me to my broken hospital bed.
This vision, for that is what it was, described the coming times. Those times are now.
