-= Omega Strife =-
Omega - 24th letter of Greek alphabet, the last, the end.
Strife � A violent, bitter, struggle.
-Neo Terran Genesis-
*Omega Strife*
8-)
Sol System, Earth
2224 CE, March 11th
0500 hours PST
San Francisco, CA
Awry
�Shit,� Seifer grumbled as he hit the ground running. Things were going bad, very bad. The twenty-foot drop onto the rooftop hurt. Perhaps the jump wouldn�t have been so bad if Seifer hadn�t been doing that for the last thirty minutes. Compressed laser shocks exploded on the concrete behind him, beside him, and just about everywhere else, including on his quickly thinning armor. Yeah, it was just one of those days. �Aeon! Where the hell are you! I�m in deep slag here! I got a whole brigade of Fanatics on me,� Seifer shouted into his comm.
�En route. Keep your cool Azreal,� Aeon replied with disturbing calm. The Fanatics continued their pursuit relentlessly. This was going to end soon, one way or another. This could be it, Seifer pondered. Looking down at his wrist, Seifer checked the remaining ammo in his concussion rifle� fresh out, one clip left. Seifer swung the rifle around from his back and did a quick load with his last clip. Forty-five high-fusion-powered shots per clip, however, this did not matter.
�Not like this thing�s going to matter for shit if I get caught,� Seifer muttered to himself. He punched the code for overload implosion. As he jumped the next rooftop, he turned and quickly threw the rifle at his pursuers. The rifle imploded on the ammo and exploded when it got within proximity of the first group. That should slow them. Seifer�s breath was cut short on his landing. Looking ahead, he saw the next rooftop was a bit farther than he had originally expected. �Sentience, my integrated map shows only twenty meters to next point. Recalculate distance.� Numbers flashed across his helmet screen. 300 meters. Out of date map, great. �Grapple.� A small grapple hook extended from under the armor on his wrist. �Lock next mass target and fire on my trigger.� A few steps before the jump, a direct shot to the back caused Seifer to stumble. Just before he went over the edge, he fired off the grapple at an antenna tower at the next building.
After what seemed like an eternity, a tone sounded in his ear indicating that the �smart� grapple has found its target. Seifer rolled into the wall of a maintenance shack on the roof with a thud. His grapple had snapped and he barely made it over the edge. For a moment he laid there, trying to force air into his lungs. His shoulder was nearly wrenched out of its socket from the yank. Yet Seifer still had the strength to raise an arm toward the previous building, and give the Fanatics the finger. �Sentience, if I live through this, I�m getting your sorry AI ass reprogrammed with a satellite link.� He did not expect a response. �Aeon, where are you, respond,� nothing but silence. Seifer got to his feet only to have a red bar flash across his screen. The message below indicated that the Fanatics were loading a missile launcher and attempting a lock. What about� oh, right. His armor was equipped a stealth system, but, damn, the power cells had run dry a long time ago. Seifer ceased to think and ran to the opposite edge. So Aeon�s experience has finally let me down... Eh, it was a good life. Seifer gazed around the skyline. The lights were beautiful, but there was nothing close enough to jump to. The grapple was broken, and there was no power for his wing system. Seifer made one last, hopeless sprint over the edge and began his descent just as the missile passed over his head. Seifer let out a sigh and just relaxed as he fell into nothingness.