A Necessity

He drove his bladed arm into the center of my chest and plunged deep into the metallic core of my body. The small sphere held firm momentarily, but with merely a thought, muscle layered his already grossly disfigured arm. Giving him the power to push harder against my heart and send my soul spiraling to whatever nightmarish realm has been constructed for me.

And so with a final cry, my killer forced the last of his strength into this final attack. 

Screams of effort filled the corridors as sparks of red lightning bounced between our battle-worn bodies.

Disconcertingly large pieces of metal fell from my body and hit the floor with a deafening clang as my chest continued to cave in towards the center.

And before I knew it, my glowing heart was pierced by the tip of the curved blade and cracked along the middle, dimming the light emanating from its core and eventually shattering the small sphere.

He would kill me this day, that is for certain.

But for an instant, none of that seems to matter.

In that fraction of time between my the last moment alive and the release of death, none of it mattered.

In front of me, I no longer see an arm connecting a pitch-black blade to the body of a stone-faced assassin.

I see right through him. I see right past him.

And behind that mass of demented blackness, I see a child.

A child not yet ready to witness the horrors of deadly battle.

A child thrust into a world they didn’t ask for nor deserve to be in.

A child that couldn’t bear to witness a blade take his family away.

A child that had been lied to and abused more times than he could remember and hurt more than he might ever understand.

A child that I knew needed me.

But unlike him, I was too weak.

Too weak to parry the unending onslaught of blade and claw or dodge the frenzied strikes of lightning that emanate from my killer’s battle-torn body.

And far too weak to protect the boy from not only the grip of evil I knew had already closed in on him, but also the dangers that lurked within his own mind.

He was a pure soul. He most certainly lacked the same innocence a child his age should have but he still managed to remain the same kind boy he always was.

Unlike me, he hadn’t let grief warp his mind into something monstrous.

Even now, knowing he’s watching life leave my eyes, I can say for certain that he won’t succumb to darkness like I had. 

But I know he’d be changed. I know he’ll never be the same ever again.

It’s not fair. He, of all people, was the last one that should’ve had this happen to him.

Even while on the brink of death, all I can think about is how unfairly life has treated this poor, vulnerable child.

It’s as if during my last moments of life, a higher power bestowed me with insurmountable clarity. Allowing me to see beyond the blinding light of greed and selfish ambition I had projected unto this undeserving planet and the innocent people that live on it.

Even now, I feel as if I can’t entirely escape my greed.

Truthfully, though I see the wrong I’ve done, I care not for these people, these Nanjury. I care not for their planet either. For some reason, my stretch of empathy only reaches far enough to touch this human child. Even as he pushes his bladed arm past my shattered heart and through the center of the back of my metallic form, I see no killer.

I see no battle-hardened warrior or hollow-eyed assassin.

In truth, this boy is no warrior. It takes more than just strength to bear such a moniker.

But even so, he hadn’t asked for this strength. 

I envied him greatly. As do all the warriors of Boido. His power and potential are once in a lifetime.

But if he could choose to once more be a regular human child, I know he would take it in a heartbeat. Less than that even.

After all, without his great power, he wouldn’t have been roped into this entire affair.

He wouldn’t have been used as a pawn for the higher-ups to pin against me.

But it’s my fault as well, isn’t it?

If it weren’t for me trying so hard to propagate my ideas onto our planet, Cordus’ strength would’ve never been necessary.

None of this fighting would’ve been necessary.

My death wouldn’t have been necessary.

No. 

It was necessary.

I was a danger. I still am, in fact. Every second that my soul persists in the living world, there is danger. 

Why is this the case? Why have I only now realized this?

It is by using this clarity that has been so generously beset upon me, that I can now see how ruthless I had been.

It was never about ill-intent, of course. That’s not what ruthlessness is about.

It’s about seeing that clear path from point A to point B and having the strength to follow it all the way through.

Years ago, back when I lived on Earth.

When I fought a guerilla war alongside friends and family, I needed to be ruthless.

But honestly, I never really had it in me. It was my mother that I allowed to be ruthless in my stead.

There were others of course. My mother wasn’t the only hard-hearted warrior that I fought alongside. But It was her lead that I chose to follow.

That is, until she, along with my father, went MIA.

Missing in action was what we said back then but I know they’d been killed. We all did. Just didn't want to believe it.

We never found their bodies but knew they had been crushed under the rubble of one of the many decrepit buildings that dotted the city.

Their frail human bodies had been made to paint one more coat over the already blood-stained streets.

It was that day that I truly succumbed to the war.

I had been changed by it before but never had it broken me like that pivotal day had.

I had become much like my mother in my attitude towards the fight.

No longer did I feel an obligation to assist in the war effort.

Instead, in my heart arose this undying need to destroy the enemy at all costs.

It was good in some way, as without my mother, I needed to a new voice to carry the ruthlessness that was so necessary in war.

But unlike my mother, I never knew when to stop. 

I see now that I never learned to put a cap on my ruthlessness.

And now that mistake’s coming back to bite not only me, but every occupant of this planet. 

And Cordus.

So it was necessary. 

Though not just for the sake of Boido and its residents. I’ve been needing rest for a long while now.

And ironically, this child, whom I had not done well to serve, will deliver me this undeserved respite.

Though I doubt he would ever see it as such.

He would kill me but I will have killed in a far worse manner and to an even greater degree.

It makes me wish so desperately that I was the only one who had to die today.