To most, the arid topography of Vos was pretty much hell. Rainfall was seldom, and when it did come, so did the chance of chemical rain that ate through flesh like a scalding knife through butter. As if that wasn’t welcoming enough, there were the occasional ravenous beasts that ventured too close to settled territory. So, yeah, hell wasn’t too far off base as an accurate description for most.
Greymore Sky wasn’t most people though.
A self-anointed Protector, he tasked himself with guarding those in their small town. He was just one person, but someone had to look out for the elderly, young, and feeble. No one else volunteered for the job, so he voluntold himself he would be the one to take up that position. An unlimited cache of booze made the long days and short nights more bearable.
Just another day, Greymore thought as he checked the clip on his Mk. II Asaki Plasma Rifle and flipped off the safety. The weapon belched to life, atoms smashing and producing a stunning orange glow from the chamber roughly halfway down the gun, centered between the barrel and the stock. It gave off an eerie luminosity that he would have admired on this serene night, if not for the reason he was out this late at night, or early in the morning, however you looked at it. The Asaki line of rifles weren’t pretty to look at, but they were damned reliable, and that’s what he needed. Something to rely on.
He aimed down the sight, waiting for the perfect moment to let loose a volley of deadly molten liquid into the intruder. A puff of breath out the side of his mouth blew aside stray white hairs that threatened to obstruct his view, and that would only lead to a quick untimely end for the Protector. The only one death was coming for tonight was the intruder.
Greymore removed his eye from the sight. Scanning the horizon with it for the last couple minutes hadn’t revealed the threat. It had to be somewhere. He knew it was somewhere. His heavy sleep was never disturbed unless something threatened the village. Or him.
He shut his eyes and cleared his mind, forcing all thoughts down into the depths of his consciousness. One deep breath. Exhale. A second deep breath. Exhale. A third deep breath. Pause. Long exhale. One second passed, one second and ten milliseconds, one second and twenty milliseconds.
There! He didn’t see it yet, but his eyes weren’t getting better with age. His other senses remained sharp, and they kept him alive. For now. He pivoted thirty degrees to his left and raised the rifle again. His mind still clear, he extended his senses out, his bare feet shifted slightly for a sturdier stance. The calloused soles wore years of wear and tear, yet still remained sensitive to any vibrations in the cracked dirt underneath.
Miles off, he felt multiple vibrations. Pounding hooves kicked up a massive cloud of dusk behind them. A family of brown-bellied bull-lions charged for the town. Their black coats of fur covered their six legs and massive feline bodies, with their bellies featuring a leathery brown skin. Short curved horns protruded on the top of their lion-like heads that had puffy manes, while the females shared the same characteristics minus the horns and manes. They were predators to a lot of the sparse wildlife and settlers on Vos, but tonight they were the prey. That could only mean one thing: something much bigger and meaner was on their tails, and it was headed straight for the town.
He knew he had to act quick before they got too close. He reached for a small metal device in a pocket on his belt, and retrieved it. Holding the triangular thing to his mouth, he blew into a perfectly shaped hole on one side. To the human ear, the pitch was unnoticeable. To bull-lions though, it sounded like the wicked screams of a wounded member of their herd. Greymore hoped it would be enough to drive them in any other direction except the one they were headed.
Distant roars rumbled across the gap between them, and through the magnified scope he could see the cloud turn ninety degrees to its right and continue away from the small village. As the cloud shrunk, he still felt something wasn’t right. They weren’t running towards something; they had been running away from something. His senses warned him that something was big, nasty, and racing towards him.
Again, he extended his senses, his feel searching for the disturbance and where it might be coming from. Deep underground, something stirred. It stirred as it moved soil and rock, sending shockwaves of vibration that he could feel throughout his body now as it drew close. This must have been what spooked those bull-lions.
Come on, you big nasty bastard. I’ve got a surprise for you right here.
The ground trembled under him, the intensity of it nearly knocking him off his feet. A couple hundred feet away the dirt burst into the air, and in the dust and debris towered a beast he hoped he would never see in person again. They were a rare breed of wurm, one that can devour small one-pilot space ships in a single lunge. Their bold navy scales also protected it against a variety of projectiles. It’s only known weakness: the eight blinking eyes on the front of its long, cylindrical form. Half a dozen rows of dagger-like teeth gnashed together in a deadly maw waiting to devour flesh.
Inhale. Exhale. He took another deep breath, then exhaled slowly as the creature bellowed a nightmarish roar that shook the earth as much as its movement. Greymore closed his eyes, searching for that center of focus he knew was there. He had suppressed it for a long time, but that fiery focus still burned, even as dim as he kept the candle lit. It was there.
As he opened his eyes from his trance, he saw the creature hit the ground with incredible force and begin slithering towards him. Its mouth gnashed hungrily the whole time it approached. His eyes flickered and began emitting an eerily similar glow to the one still coming from within the center of the rifle he held. He poured more focus into the central chamber of it, and its glow became a beacon of orange brilliance.
A twisted smile crept up the corner of his mouth as he whispered, “not on my watch, pal.”
Just another day in paradise.