My visor-display blinks red: ENEMY.
Jolts of electricity needle my scalp, the system urging me with adrenaline. But I recognize the face beyond the visor.
“Danny?” I whisper. They told me my brother was dead, not a rebel soldier on Ziphus-30.
“Rick?” He reaches for me. My Mechsuit automatically parries his gesture; he stumbles back, eyes wide.
“It’s me, your brother!” He looks so frail and naked in his cloth, enemy fatigues.
“I know!” I fight as the Mechsuit raises my arm, pistons whirring. I strain, but a man is no match for a machine.
My visor-display flashes red: ELIMINATE.
Alex Fox hails from the wintry North East. She works in tech and writes to explore unknown and forgotten landscapes. This is her first published work. Find her on Twitter (@afoxwrites).