[b]Decay[/b] Blood, rust, bone, steel and iron. That which comes from the dead things. Dead earth, dead men and now I. Blood and rust and bone and steel. This graveyard, a grave of minds. All here will fade too, with time. She died on the balustrade. Arrays of broken panels. Her perfect sniper’s crow’s nest. She could hold an army back. One army but could not two. Rows upon rows of soldiers. Falling with the metronome. But the flow reached the stairwell. Boots and claws piled on the steps. Echoing in the darkness. Their shots rattled off the walls. Plasma burned our defences. Here cometh the knife, glinting. Sharp blade piercing shields and skin. She stumbles, rust billowing. A cloud of red to obscure. And makes the Fallen fall back. She’s up and the blade stabs down. Another win, a near miss. And it doesn’t last, it can’t. Red dust, red rust and red blood. All has deserted her now. Where she fell I cannot leave. I circle the bones by day. And hide from the chill at night. Flesh melts from bones and armour. One day a bird, gone by night. It lays a feather on her. Upon her hand, on her gun. She believed in high constructs. Relive the conversation. My memory banks now fail. High constructs with feathered wings. Take her where I can’t follow. I can’t follow so I stay. When the sun is high I live. And each day my life is less. In this bed of death and bone. The sun feeds paltry morsels. I long to feast on power. Perhaps I’ll be found after. Her last great quest saved in me. The data I protected. Kept safe as systems fail me. In the garden of red dust. I will rest in the red rust.