《She-What and the Tiara of Tyranny》The Library of Despair
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No one remembers
who broke the sky,
and it has been night
for so long now
that no one remembers
what day was either.
There is only the darkness —
a black, bottomless
void of an eye
that watches everything,
forever.
But our eyes move
across the world to the distant
continent of Aegerlünd,
over the Craid Mountains,
deep into the brittle glass desert
of Zamqat Bu,
where two young women
stand together atop a tall, jagged cliff.
One of the women,
petite, with spiky black hair,
and a glaze of gray fur
on her cheeks and bare arms —
a lycanthrope
from the Icethorne Taiga —
peers through a laserscope.
Her name is Chys.
“I see it,” Chys says,
“The Library of Despair.
I see the
broken obelisk.
The Supreme Executive was right.”
The other woman
takes the laserscope.
“The Supreme Executive
is always right,”
she says.
The other woman is none other
than She-What,
Princess-General
of the Armed Forces of Thunder Corporation,
the most powerful company in
the Black Hemisphere.
Tall, muscular; yet feminine
in every way demanded of her,
she has flowing curls of blond hair,
and a beautiful face
masking a tactically brilliant
and expensively-educated mind.
Her white battle-dress signifies
her purity,
with a high hem line —
to signify her confidence.
At her hip hangs her
nefariously willful
Rainbow Sword of Artemica,
a bloodthirsty work of smithery
with an edge sharper than light.
She-What passes the laserscope
back to Chys.
“Tell Commander Veetman
to advance the tanks.”
“Advance the tanks?”
Chys laughs.
“It’s a library. Sages. Scribes.
You and I
could secure it alone!”
She-What shakes her head.
“Cruelty is its own reward,”
she tells her friend,
smiling.
The tanks advance.
Our eyes
follow their heavy treads
as they crunch and crash the glass
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underneath their tracks.
The night sky above
intently watches
the beacon lights
and clouds of glass dust below.
She-What sits back in her seat
in the cockpit of her super robot,
watching the clamor before her.
Whoever
inhabits the library
gives no sign
they are preparing for the attack.
Chys’s voice crackles over
the gem radio —
“Within firing distance.”
“Fire.”
She-What speaks softly,
disinterested.
The long triangles of the tanks’ turrets
alight
in bursts of rainbow flames,
projecting the best,
most expensive,
most destructive
munitions
money can buy.
Explosions hit the library —
cracking domes,
crashing in halls,
in heat so hot
that the forcefield windows
malfunction
and spit alchemical nanoplasma
that spreads fire through the library
quickly.
Walls collapse.
Supporting pillars explode
in molten heat.
Through her laserscope,
She-What watches
a group of men
flee out of the front doors
of the library,
some are injured, bloody.
She does not yet see
what she wants to see.
Chys’s voice comes over the radio.
“I don’t see him, boss.”
She-What is silent.
She doubles the magnification
on her laserscope.
Yes, only men.
They are looking for a child.
A boy.
“Cease fire,” says She-What.
“Right, boss,” Chys replies.
The tanks lower their cannons.
Silence expands
across the desert.
Great plumes of smoke
billow out
of the tumbled ruins
of the Library of Despair.
“I’m going down there,”
She-What tells Chys.
She pushes the throttle
on her super robot,
and it glides through the air
over the tanks
towards the library.
Her sensors tell her
that Chys is following her
in her own super robot,
while Commander Veetman stands by.
She-What settles
the super robot's heavy feet
down on the smoldering glass
in front of the library.
The sages shield themselves
from the light and the exhaust,
shivering in fear,
too afraid to flee
too weak to fight.
She-What popped open her hatch
and jumped out of the super robot,
her hand falling to rest
on her Rainbow Sword’s hilt
as she approached
the bleeding sages.
One of the older ones,
blood streaming down his face,
shouts at her,
“How can you do this?
We are defenseless!
How can you just destroy
ancient knowledge?
You’re not human!”
“No,” she said,
“I am She-What.”
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