Defect | de•fect di-ˈfekt ˈdē-ˌfekt | noun

(1) A person incapable of manipulating natural energy; (2) An imperfection or abnormality that impairs quality, function, or utility.

Defect | de•fect di-ˈfekt | verb

(1) To forsake a cause, party, or a nation for another often because of a change of ideology; (2) to leave one situation (such as a job) often to go over to a rival.

She remembered this place.

A vast, open field. Flowers and grass beneath the bright, shining sun. Trees surrounded the wide grass, giving its edges a much needed shade. In the corner of her eye, she saw a picnic cloth, picnic basket and half eaten food spread around it. A bottle of iced tea caught her eye in particular, cold, condensed water adhering to the bottle surface. It was just perfect for the sweltering summer heat.

Her body was a child’s again, she figured. She also found herself moving. Up and down, rocking back and forth, above someone’s back. A brown haired man with a wide back and strong arms, holding her up firmly behind his back. It was her father, smiling as wide as the plains they were in. She found the feeling to be contagious as she laughed together with him.

After running around for quite some time, they rested on the picnic cloth, laying under the tree shades while gazing at the blue summer sky.

“Now that I think about it, I kinda miss the village. It was a bit like this when I was your age, y’know? I get to run around in an open field without worrying about cars and such.”

“What was it like, dad?”

“In the village?”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s see… It wasn’t special, but it was really different, I guess. I get to play a lot-”

“Did you really?!”

“Yeah! But we also had to work a lot. We don’t have a lot of money or things to buy, so if we want something, we have to make it by ourselves! Not to mention, the older people get really angry if we don’t do our jobs so we must do it well.”

“Oh. But you did get to play a lot, right?”

“He sure did, honey.” said a nostalgic female voice, coming from behind the tree where they rested. Excited, she stood up and ran to the other side of the tree, arms wide.

“Mom!” she shouted gleefully, hugging her mother tightly.

Her mother hugged her in return. Yet instead of a warm embrace, the arms that held her felt dry, thin and cold. Then, she heard explosions. One, two, countless of them. Sounds of screaming men. She didn’t know where she was anymore.

“-tain!”

“Dad?” Another explosion. This time, followed by crashing metal and screaming men.

“-Captain! On your feet!” A voice shouted at her. She opened her eyes, now looking squarely at the man in the uniform that stood in front of her. Another explosion rang. She stood up, dusting off the dirt on her uniform.

“You alright Captain?”

The man tried to put a hand on her left shoulder, in which she dodged the gesture swiftly. “I’m very much fine, General. Are we ready for the assault?” She answered, donning a poker face while ignoring the general’s gestures.

The general took a deep sigh and toughened in response. He gave a scroll to her and gestured to the flying object in the sky, dropping metal puppets to fight their soldiers. “We’ve evacuated the villagers. You know what to do. Go on their flank. We will give you all the time in the world.”

“Anything I need to know before I go in, General?”

“Nothing unusual. They’re still coming with the same types of puppets. Quantity rather than quality. They’re still coming at us at the same pace. Their movement patterns didn’t show any particular difference, so we could bet the push will be working as a distraction. You should have no problems.”

“Very well. I’ll be going now sir.” She put her claymore behind her back and gave the General a salute, before turning around and walking away.

“Alma, wait-” said the General, stopping her dead in her tracks. His voice was low and frail, desperate for her attention. “I know it’s not right for me to say this, but… Stay safe. Please. If something goes wrong, go back. There’s-”

“We’re soldiers, sir.” She interrupted, “We do what we were ordered, we finish it no matter what happens.”

The young captain looked back at the general, jaw clenched. “With all due respect, sir, please refrain yourself from finishing that sentence.”

The general looked at the captain’s back, slowly exiting his field of view. He closed his eyes, a drop of tear threatening to leak out of his left eye. He took a deep breath. In, and out. Slowly, he opened back his eyes, returning to reality.

“W-we’re in position, General.” Said a voice behind him.

He turned around, now looking at the messenger. He saw him buckle under his gaze, shivering slightly.

“What’s your rank, soldier?”

“C-corporal, sir.”

“Now, corporal-” He put a hand on the corporal’s shoulder, “-What do you think will happen in this god forsaken warzone?”

“W-we will win, sir?”

He sneered. “You seem pretty unsure. Are you doubting my ability as a commander in this war?”

“N-no sir!”

“Are you afraid? You seem pretty afraid. What would your comrades think if one of them can’t even hold their weapons proper because they’re too busy shaking in their boots, corporal?”

“Th-they-”

“Speak clearly, soldier! Will you be standing there, doing jack shit or will you be charging with your brothers?!”

The corporal gulped, “We will charge together into battle, sir!”

“Then, what is the only outcome of this battle?”

“We will win, sir!”

The sneer turned into a smile as he patted the corporal’s shoulder. “That’s good, soldier. With a spirit like that, the only other thing that is certain is the destruction of our enemies. You’re dismissed, soldier.”

The corporal saluted to the general before running back to his captain. The general was now back standing alone in the battlefield, his army already in their positions, waiting for their signal. He lifted his right hand, gathering energy in the palm of his hand. His left hand held a chalice, hidden inside his pockets. His coat fluttered, sand and dust danced, and every attention in the battlefield, both men and puppet, was on him.

Above, a massive, flaming stone formed. A second passed, a second sun has formed under the skies as it slowly rises up higher and higher. A loud, hammering explosion followed. The sky darkens. Down, he swung his right hand. One by one, fire and stone fell to the ground, bringing down death with it.

“Men! Charge!”

She walked alone, out of sight and out of mind. The foliage helped her blend into the background, sneaking in behind the enemy lines while killing any puppets that found their way into her path. It was unfortunate, their lives were gone as soon as she took a glimpse of the unfortunate machines.

The fighting has started. Explosions, gunshots, screams, a whole lot of them and more. Above, she could see a fleet of puppets flying overhead, coming to aid their brethren in combat. There were hundreds, even thousands of them. Shadow fell upon the trees as she hid within the leaves, making sure that none of them would notice even a single hint of her existence.

It was a two pronged attack. The first, an army attacking the enemy head on, taking the brunt of their forces while being supported by heavy artillery and support fire. The second, her, alone. A single, elite soldier who is more than capable in fighting a small number of puppets, with the mission of sabotaging the backlines and intelligence gathering. They both were detrimental to one another, giving each other space and chance to maximize their strengths.

Of course, she wasn’t picked out of random. She was a smart, effective, and powerful soldier that has finished her missions to the utmost perfection. Her proficiency was renowned not only within the country, but also across the whole Terran Army far and wide. She wasn’t only the best pick for this mission, she was the only one who could do it.

She reached the edge of the clearing and the top of a pointed cliff, getting a clear view of what lies ahead. The flying fortress and its puppets, fighting the human army. She had expected some of them standing guard near the fortress, yet there was nothing. Not even the standard, human sized machines that could be destroyed with a single well placed strike. Too quiet. As she closes silently upon her target, she hears a sound. A deep, whirring sound of metal hitting the ground from the other side of the cliff. It was not normal, but her enemies were anything but. Scanning and ensuring the area was safe, she took a peek on the other side of the cliff.

She saw a door. A huge, stone door with motifs and patterns that she didn’t recognize. On each four sides of the door, puppets that are holding drills with unworldly shine. It was slow, but the drill was working its way with the door. A small, floating ship landed beside it. It’s ramp opened, and an old man being held by two puppets came out of it, followed by a tall, middle aged man with… horns?

There was no doubt about it, he was the one controlling all of the puppets. He commanded them with authority and power, and those creatures followed his orders like chained slaves. Her mind raced. It was the first living creature between those invading machines. What was his role? Was he alone in this? How did he control them? Regardless, she needed to capture him. Alive. She needed to find a way to-

Her line of thought was interrupted by a metal puppet. Then another. A bigger one dropped, its shell shone underneath the two suns. More and more, the puppets came to her. She has been ambushed. Their numbers were too many to count. Whether it was due to her taking her time or because it was due to the false intel, one thing was certain: she was distracted and made a mistake.

She counted her options. There’s no turning back, but fighting all of them would be nothing but a suicide. There was no surrender with them. Any soldiers caught were killed in a flash, without any mercy whatsoever. She could see them closing at her, guns raised and ready to shoot. There were only her, the puppets, and the edge of the cliff. There was no time, no other options. She must jump.

She felt the brush of wind as she fell through the air. She looked back at the cliff, at the soulless eyes of the puppets. She took a glance behind her. Thirty seven meters to the ground, falling faster and faster. Her eyes met the man’s, glaring straight into her soul. His horn - no, shards of metal, embedded into his head. It was a split second, yet it was as if both of them saw their souls through their battle scarred bodies. In an instant, she pulled out a grappling gun and shot up, swinging through flying projectiles.

She jumped at the apex of the swing, leaping high off the cliff and above. She could see all the puppets, staring at her. The battle below, slowly won by the army pushing the enemy forces back. She pulled out the scroll from her pocket and primed it, before throwing it into one of the gaps of the fortress. She landed on the edge of the cliff, rolling safely.

She looked back at them. Each and everyone of them looked at her, yet none of them was approaching. If it was a few moments ago, then sure, she would’ve scrambled a thousand ways of getting out of the situation. But now, as she felt the heat coming from the flying fortress, she was sure that the only thing she needed to do was to not trigger anything as she passed the barricade of metal in front of her.

There was, however, one thing that made this particular situation different from her countless missions of being outgunned and outnumbered. Resting at the corner of her eyes, the man. Brown eyes met blue, reflecting the high reaching smoke. She tracked every inch of his body, every move. He moved his hands, reaching out for the puppets in front of her. As if waking up, the machines moved once again, walking towards her. Some flew from the ground, adding up to her problem. She stifled a flinch, keeping her body steady and darting her eyes between the puppets and the man.

A puff of smoke came out of her feet. There were only them and the huge, burning metal fortress behind her, slowly burning more and more, the smoke blooming even higher. The fortress was falling down, slowly but surely. If she let them approach the fortress, then the mission would end with failure. She needed to buy time.

It takes roughly 0.7 seconds for the puppets to attack a standing object inside a smoke. A moving one, double the time. 23 medium sized, 13 were larger. An intel shared between the captains that said that the puppets detect enemies by heat. They don’t bother spacing between one another, knowing that killing an enemy is better than a puppet destroyed. The abnormal sounds of whirring and turning, quiet enough not to be noticed in a battlefield, but loud enough for anyone to notice in any other place. The core in their arms, powering their rifles. 0.7 seconds, the smoke blooms.

The cliff was quiet.

She moved, drawing her claymore swiftly to take a puppet’s head. She can’t see anything, but the sounds of turning heads kept her focus. Another swing, she takes three. 1.4 seconds gone by. She stopped, a barrage of beams passed towards her trajectory. Another 0.7 seconds passed. She shielded herself with a broken puppet, moving closer while pulling her handgun, taking potshots. She took out a fuse, lighting up the core on it’s arm through a small nook. It has been 1.4 seconds. The barrage started, she could feel her shield heating up. One, two grazed her right arm. Another, her leg. She kept closing in. The puppet’s core lit up brightly through the smoke. 0.7 seconds. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Hesitation is defeat.

With every force in her body, she kicked the dying machine with all of her might, also using it to propel herself from her targets. She saw the core flashing, expanding more and more, melting everything it touched and missing her by the skin of her teeth. Slowly, the wind blew the smoke away, revealing broken melted pieces of metal. She stood up, assessing her condition. Her legs and shoulders were grazed, but her extremities still worked. She saw puppets closing in on her position. It doesn’t matter anymore.

The fortress rumbled and fell. Explosion came, destroying it from the inside. The enemy closes in. The ground shook. Gritting her teeth, she ran as fast as she could, the crumbling cliff following her every step. All she needed was one, small step. Yet, it was one step too far. She could see the edge of the cliff getting further away from her as the dark of the valley envelops her.

Then, it was black.