The desert stretched endlessly under the dying embers of the sun, casting long shadows across the dunes. Sigma City loomed in the distance, a jagged silhouette of metal and stone against the fiery horizon. Etrius vanRandr stood alone, his massive frame draped in a tattered black cloak that billowed slightly in the arid wind. The SCDF's orders had been clear: eliminate the rogue known as Voss.
Voss. The name lingered in his mind like a distant echo, a name whispered in the dark. A wolflike mask, they said. Etrius had dismissed it at first, assuming it to be another eccentricity of the outcasts that plagued the SCDF's convoys. But now, as he stood amidst the desolation, waiting for her to show herself, the possibility gnawed at him. What if it wasn’t a mask?
A low whistle cut through the silence. Etrius' ears twitched, his enhanced senses picking up the faint crunch of sand beneath measured footsteps. The figure emerged from the haze, her silhouette stark against the blood-red sky. She moved with an unhurried grace, as if the oppressive heat and the weight of the desert meant nothing to her. The "mask" came into focus first—its lupine features sharp and intimidating, but its presence natural, not an accessory but part of her.
Voss stopped a few paces away, her red eyes glowing faintly under the shadow of her hood. Her gaze locked onto Etrius with an intensity that made his synthetic skin crawl. "So," she said, her voice a blend of curiosity and bemusement. "The SCDF sends their weapon. I should be flattered."
Etrius said nothing. He studied her, every detail etched into his mind: the way her shoulders squared with practiced confidence, the slight tilt of her head as she observed him, and the faint tremor in the air that hinted at something more beneath the surface. She bore a striking resemblance to Ravenna, so much so that it felt like a cruel joke. But there were differences. The colors, for one. Her white fur, her eyes brighter, and her movements lacked Ravenna’s cruel precision. Yet the familiarity was undeniable.
"Ravenna," Etrius growled, his voice low and rumbling. His grip tightened on the plasma sword at his side. "How?"
Voss tilted her head, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I wondered when you'd bring her up. You think I’m Ravenna?" She took a step closer, her movements deliberate. "I'm not. But I understand why you'd assume."
Etrius' claws slid out with a metallic hiss, his body tensing. "I don’t care who you pretend to be. You're a threat, and that’s all I need to know."
"Am I?" Voss spread her arms wide, as if daring him to strike. "You don’t even know what I’ve done. All you know is what they told you. And you trust them?" Her voice carried a bitter edge. "After everything?"
Etrius hesitated, a flicker of doubt creeping into his mind. He silenced it with a shake of his head. "You’ve killed. You’ve stolen. You've caused unimaginable suffering."
"Because I help those who are abandoned?" Voss’ voice rose slightly, her eyes narrowing. "You of all people should understand that, Etrius. Or should I call you Uncle?"
The mentions of his past was like a slap to the face. He stepped forward, towering over her, his claws poised. "Don’t you dare—"
"Don’t what?" Voss interrupted, her tone sharp. "Speak the truth? I know you, Etrius. I know what she did to you, what you suffered because of her. And now you’re here, ready to kill me because they told you to. Tell me, does it feel any different than when you stood before her?"
The question struck deeper than any blade. For a moment, the desert was silent save for the wind. Etrius’ green eyes locked with Voss’, searching for deceit but finding none.
Etrius’ claws scraped against one another, producing an eerie metallic screech that sliced through the desert air. His voice, low and venomous, carried an edge that even the wind seemed to avoid. "Liar," he spat, each syllable dripping with raw, unfiltered rage. His green eyes blazed with a fury Voss hadn’t expected, though she didn’t flinch. "You look like Ravenna to me. Don’t you dare tell me you’re not!"
Voss’ expression softened, if only slightly. "I’m not her," she said, her tone calm but firm. "But I understand why you—"
"Shut up!" Etrius roared, his voice rising to an almost feral snarl. Memories surged through his mind unbidden, tearing through the fragile walls he had built to contain them. The cold river, the searing pain of Ravenna’s claws tearing his arms from his body, her cruel laughter ringing in his ears—it all came back in a flood. His breathing grew ragged, his massive frame trembling with barely-contained fury.
"Do you think I don’t remember what you did to me?!" he bellowed, his roar cracking under the weight of his emotions. His plasma sword ignited with a sharp hiss, its glowing blade humming with deadly energy. Without waiting for a response, he lunged.
Voss sidestepped gracefully, the blade missing her by inches as it carved a molten scar into the sand. Etrius pivoted, his claws slashing through the air. Voss evaded each with unnerving ease, her movements fluid and precise, as if she were anticipating every attack.
"You’re letting your anger blind you," she said, her voice carrying a note of pity that only fueled his rage. "I’m not Ravenna. I’m not your enemy."
"Stop lying to me!" Etrius snarled, his plasma blade arcing toward her once more. This time, Voss ducked low, the blade passing harmlessly over her head as she spun and drove her elbow into his ribs. The force sent him staggering, though he recovered quickly, his claws digging into the ground for traction.
"You think I chose this face?" Voss shouted, her voice rising for the first time. "You think I want to look like her?"
Her words barely registered. Etrius’ mind was a storm of rage and anguish, every fiber of his being screaming for vengeance. He charged again, his strikes growing wilder, more desperate. Voss could see the cracks in his technique, the way his emotions clouded his judgment. She met him head-on this time, catching his wrist mid-swing and twisting it sharply. The plasma sword slipped from his grip, deactivating as it hit the sand with a dull thud.
Etrius roared in frustration, lashing out with his free hand, but Voss was faster. She stepped into his swing, using his momentum against him as she drove her knee into his stomach. The impact forced the air from his lungs, and for a moment, he faltered.
In that instant, Voss twisted his arm further, forcing him to his knees, threatening to rip his arm off. She kicked the plasma sword farther away, out of his reach, and held him there, her eyes locking onto his. Despite the ferocity of their clash, she showed no sign of anger, only determination.
"You’re not listening," she said, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "I’m not her. I’m not your enemy, Etrius. But if you keep pushing me, I’ll have no choice but to defend myself."
Etrius growled, struggling against her grip, his claws tearing at the ground. His mind screamed at him to fight, to end the threat before him, but a small, quiet voice at the back of his mind whispered doubts he refused to acknowledge.
Etrius snarled, his free hand darting to the holster at his side. His handgun gleamed faintly as he drew it in one fluid motion. With a roar, he fired at Voss, the round tearing through the air with a deafening crack.
Voss reacted instantly, twisting her body as the bullet whizzed past her shoulder. The force of the movement sent her hood falling away, revealing her face in full for the first time. It was unmistakable: Ravenna’s sharp, regal features stared back at him, framed by white fur and faint streaks of red in her mane-like hair. But her expression was different, there was no malice, no twisted glee. Instead, her red eyes burned with a mixture of frustration and sorrow.
Before Etrius could fire again, Voss drew her glaive. The massive weapon hissed as it cleared its sheath, its polished blade catching the fading sunlight. With a single, precise motion, she swung the weapon down, stopping just short of Etrius’ neck. The blade hovered there, close enough that he could feel its edge against his skin.
"Enough," she said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of command. "I’m not going to kill you, Etrius. I don’t want to hurt you. But you need to calm down."
Etrius’ chest heaved, his breaths coming in heavily. The sight of her face had frozen him for a moment, but his fury quickly reignited. With a growl, he jerked his arm, clawing at her stomach. His claws found purchase, tearing through her robes and leaving a shallow set of gashes across her midsection.
Voss hissed in pain, her grip on the glaive faltering for a split second. It was all the opening Etrius needed. He surged forward, his claws aiming for her throat, but she moved faster. With another swift motion, she brought the pommel of the glaive down against the side of his head. The blow landed with a resounding thud, sending Etrius sprawling onto the sand.
Dazed, Etrius struggled to rise, the world spinning around him. Voss stepped back, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She pressed a hand to her wounded stomach, blood staining her fur in dark streaks, but her grip on the glaive remained steady. She didn’t press the attack.
Instead, she lowered the weapon slightly and spoke, her tone measured but firm. "Etrius, listen to me. I am not Ravenna. My name is Vosstat Izognya. I was created from her, but I am not her. I didn’t ask for this face, for her crimes to follow me. I have spent my life trying to right the wrongs she committed."
Etrius groaned, his vision clearing as her words cut through the haze of his rage. But his instincts screamed at him to fight, to end her before she could betray him like Ravenna had. He rolled onto his side, glaring up at her, his claws digging into the sand.
"I’m not your enemy," Voss continued, her voice softening slightly. "If I were, you’d already be dead. I’ve had every chance to kill you, but I haven’t. Doesn’t that tell you anything?"
Etrius growled, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "You expect me to believe that? After everything you did to me? After you-"
"I am not her," Voss interrupted, her tone sharpening again. "You’re angry, and I understand why. You’ve been hurt, broken, but I am not the one who did that to you. I’ve lived my entire life trying to undo the chaos she left behind. You think I chose this face, this guilt? I didn’t. But I’m trying to make the best of it. Can’t you see that?"
Her words struck a chord deep within him, though he fought to suppress it. The sight of her face still sent waves of anger and grief crashing over him, but her actions didn’t align with the monster he remembered. She had spared him, disarmed him, even tried to reason with him. Ravenna would never have done any of those things. She would have just killed him this time.
"Will you listen now?" Voss asked, her bright red eyes locking onto his. Her voice was steady but carried a note of exhaustion. "Or are you going to keep fighting someone who’s trying to help you?"
Etrius hesitated, his claws retracting slightly. The fight wasn’t gone from him, not completely, but something in her words gave him pause. For the first time, doubt crept into the edges of his mind.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the desert in hues of deep orange and purple. Shadows stretched long across the sands as the oppressive heat gave way to a biting chill. Etrius, still sprawled on the ground, propped himself up on one arm, his gaze fixed on Voss. Her eyes glowed faintly in the twilight, and as the darkness deepened, so too did the details of her body come into focus.
Faint scars lined her arms, her neck, and even the side of her face. Delicate, precise surgical scars stitched with haste. They gleamed faintly under the dying light, their strange luminescence betraying something unnatural about them. Etrius’ mind reeled as he processed the sight. Ravenna had no scars like these. Whatever else Voss was, she wasn’t his old nemesis.
The tension in Etrius’ shoulders loosened, if only slightly. He sat up fully, the sand shifting beneath his weight, and fixed her with a wary stare. His voice was low, heavy with skepticism. "If you’re not her," he said, his tone almost accusing, "then why come to me at all? Why risk your life out here?"
Voss hesitated, lowering her glaive entirely but keeping it at her side. Her expression wavered between caution and something else, something closer to desperation. "Because I need your help," she said finally, the words heavy with unspoken weight.
Etrius laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and raw. "My help? Bahahahaha," He gestured at the scars now faintly glowing across her body. "You could’ve fooled me. You don’t exactly look like someone who needs favors."
"I didn’t want to come to you," Voss admitted, her voice quieter now. "I knew how you’d see me. How much I’d remind you of her. But I don’t have a choice." She exhaled, her shoulders slumping slightly as though the weight of her words was physically pressing down on her. "There’s someone worse out there, Etrius. Someone even Ravenna would have feared."
Etrius froze, his muscles going rigid. His green eyes narrowed as his mind raced. "Worse than Ravenna? Ha," he repeated, disbelief dripping from his tone. "You’re out of your damn mind."
Voss shook her head. "I wish I were. But I’ve seen it. Lived it." She stepped closer, cautiously, her gaze never leaving his. "They call him Rallus."
The name hit Etrius like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. His claws dug into the sand involuntarily as memories surged to the forefront of his mind. Rallus. He had only seen that name once, etched onto a nameplate and a grave in Petrovich’s lab. The lab where his body, his entire existence, had been torn apart and rebuilt piece by piece. At the time, it had seemed like an odd curiosity, a discarded project, or the name of a fellow victim long forgotten.
"Fuck," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You can’t be serious."
"I am," Voss replied, her voice steady but her expression grim. "The cultists who made me, who gave me this," she gestured to her body, her scars, her face, "they didn’t stop with me. I was their failure, their experiment that didn’t turn out the way they wanted. But Rallus? He’s their masterpiece. Rallus was Petrovich's failure, but might end up being his worst nightmare, too."
Etrius’ fists clenched, black blood coursing through his veins as the name stirred something deep within him. He looked up at Voss, his expression hardening. "What do you mean by ‘masterpiece’? What the hell did they do?"
"They took everything they learned from me," Voss explained, her voice tinged with bitterness. "And they perfected it. No more cutting corners. No more half-measures. Rallus isn’t just stronger, faster, or more dangerous, he’s... twisted. He’s everything they wanted Ravenna to be and more."
Etrius shook his head, trying to make sense of the flood of information. "And you think I can stop him? I barely survived Ravenna. Hell, I wouldn’t even be here if..." His voice broke off, the memories of Julia and his own torment still raw even after all these years.
"I'm not expecting you to do it alone," Voss said, taking another step closer. "But you’ve faced things no one else has. You know what it’s like to stand against monsters. You’ve already done the impossible once. That’s why I came to you."
Etrius looked away, his eyes fixing on the distant horizon where Sigma City’s lights flickered faintly. The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. "You’re asking me to go back into hell," he said. "For what? To clean up after the same bastards who made you?"
"I’m asking you to do what you’ve always done," Voss replied, her tone soft but unyielding. "Fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. If Rallus isn’t stopped, there won’t be anyone left to fight for."
Etrius groaned as he climbed to his feet, his massive frame stiff and sore from the earlier fight. His head throbbed where the pommel of Voss’ glaive had struck, and he instinctively rubbed the spot, muttering under his breath. "I’m getting too old for this."
Voss smirked, crossing her arms despite the faint bloodstains on her robes. "Old? You mean 'fat'. Don’t make me laugh. You’re not getting old, you’ve just gotten lazy. Complacent. If anything, this should be a lesson for you to get off your ass."
Etrius shot her a glare, but there was no real venom in it. Her words stung because they carried a grain of truth. His time in Sigma City had dulled his edge. He hadn’t needed to face a real threat in years, and it showed. "Careful, or I might decide to finish what I started fifteen years ago," he said, though his tone lacked conviction.
"You couldn’t if you tried," Voss quipped, her smirk widening, although her chest still throbbed where Etrius had hit her.
Etrius grumbled something incoherent, shaking his head before glancing toward the horizon. The faint lights of Sigma City flickered in the distance, a reminder of the life he had built there—a life that now felt fragile in the face of everything Voss had told him. He sighed heavily and pulled a small plastic card from a compartment in his cybernetic arm, tossing it to her. "Here. My comms number. If we’re doing this, we’ll need to talk again."
Voss caught the device with ease, her fingers closing around it. She nodded, her expression softening slightly. "I’ll contact you in a few days. More amicably, I hope."
"That depends on how convincing you are," Etrius said, his green eyes narrowing. "You’ve got a lot to prove."
"I know," Voss replied quietly. She turned to leave, but hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder. "There’s one more thing you need to know."
Etrius raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "What now?"
"Rallus," Voss said, her voice dropping slightly. "He’s not... like us. He’s not a person, not even a transhuman like Ravenna or you. He’s... a machine. A cyborg, maybe even a full-on bot. I’ve only seen him once, and it was enough to know he’s far more powerful than you or anyone you’ve ever faced."
Etrius stiffened, his claws reflexively flexing at his sides. "Anyone?" he repeated, his tone skeptical.
"Even Zoey," Voss said, her amber eyes meeting his. Her name carried weight. For Voss to compare Rallus to Zoey was no small claim.
Etrius’ jaw tightened, his mind racing as he processed the implications. If Voss was telling the truth, and Rallus was stronger than Ravenna, stronger even than Zoey... this was a task he couldn’t afford to take lightly. He exhaled slowly, nodding. "We’ll see about that," he said finally. "Contact me when you’re ready."
Voss offered a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I will. And Etrius? Try not to get too comfortable. We’re going to need every advantage we can get."
With that, she turned and began walking into the desert, her silhouette fading into the shadows as the night deepened. Etrius watched her go, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. The name Rallus echoed in his mind, a harbinger of the insanity yet to come.
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