This was supposed to be a search and rescue mission.

So far, I’ve done a little bit of searching and a lot of killing.

It began simply enough. I was summoned to headquarters for an emergency briefing.

“Major,” my commander began. “We need you for a special mission.”

“Yes, General,” I answered. Not that I could have said anything else, of course.

I was told of a missing spy ship, its crew unheard from since last week. Sailing near a nuclear-ravaged island, it stopped responding to communications and disappeared from our satellite network. Thus, a recon team and I were dispatched to investigate. We arrived on the ship to silence and no signs of life. There was no evidence of a battle or other event that could have possibly led to this.

Until I detected human movement. My helmet’s sensors picked up several figures approaching our position from within the ship. Our initial hopes of finding the crew were dashed when a sniper shot our team leader.

Additional gunfire poured in, but it wasn’t the bullet storm I’m used to. It came in fiery bolts, hissing and burning upon impact. Energy, I think. Whoever was shooting at us used pure energy as their projectile of choice.

My conventional assault rifle isn’t as exotic, but two expended magazines later, I’m still alive and my attackers are not. Now the team and I huddle together, speaking rapidly. Who were these people? Why were they shooting at us? Where are the original crew?

I don’t have answers and neither do they. The world has been at peace for years now. Who or what just shattered it?

Something else approaches. From the air. It’s too small, too fast to be our ride home.

I try to rise, but there’s a flash, a scream, and a shockwave. All this I process as I’m blasted backwards into the ship’s superstructure. Dust and splinters fall around me as a winged humanoid figure darts past my field of view. Is that… laughter I hear? Someone’s laughing, all right. And it’s fading away in the same direction that flyer just went.

“There’s nothing that can stop me!” comes a bellowing shout. The figure comes by again, slower this time. Four trails of light follow him; he’s equipped with some kind of rocket booster system. “Our Empire is undefeatable, and I am its champion!”

The “Empire”? That’s new. What is that? A rogue state? Aliens? I can’t focus on that right now.

Heavy metal slams against wood as he lands right in front of me.

I have my first proper look at him. He stands a head taller than my height of two meters, clad in much heavier armor than me. A series of metal blades extend from behind- folded wings and engines. With every step, slow and decisive, he takes towards me, I can see the rocket boosters inside his boots. His left arm holds some kind of massive rifle, emanating with harsh golden light. His right arm points a multi-barrel cannon straight at me, now spinning and glowing with the same enigmatic energy. At this range, I doubt even I can survive a shot.

“This is the UN’s greatest soldier?” he tauntingly asks. It seems he - my scanners indicate a human lies underneath - recognizes my power armor, presently inert. “This one, who lies defeated against the might of the Empire?”

“No,” I growl. “This is.”

My enemy is advanced, but I suspect he does not know the limits of his power- he is not used to it.

To mine, I am.

My first move is a lunge straight for his primary weapon. My gloved hand clenches around the red-hot barrel. His face is obscured behind a red-tinted circular visor, but I know what it is. It is surprise first, shock second, and terror next.

For I have crushed his machine gun with my right hand and have drawn my pistol with my left. I probably can’t kill him with this paltry 9mm- but I will disorient, confuse, and weaken. Eight shots in half as many seconds at point blank later, he is falling backwards, crying out… in pain. I can tell that is what he feels right now.

Pain. He shouldn’t be feeling it- I haven’t penetrated his armor yet. To feel pain without injury is a terrible liability. His chest plate is only dented and his right weapon disabled. If I were in his place, I would not feel pain.

Our places have changed. Now I am the one standing and he is the one on his back. I-

Am a damn fool. His boots have built-in rockets. A simple kick becomes an arc of fire. And now my own chestplate is a charred, crumbling mess. We are both down now.

Who will win? I believe I will. Because I have yet to feel pain.

True to form, I am the first to rise again. My rifle is lying a mere meter away. It is fully loaded, and I do not want to keep it that way. So I unload the full magazine into him. Recoil? That’s irrelevant to me. Every shot- all thirty of them- lands within a few centimeters of the first.

And yet he, albeit shakily, gets on his feet.

“Bring it on!” he shouts to me.

“You first,” I reply, clipping the empty rifle to my back.

He charges, swinging the remnants of his broken gun as a crude flail. It crushes the deck I was on a millisecond ago, leaving a gaping crater. Unfortunately for him, I’m airborne now, throwing a left hook. Red shards rain down with the blows; his visor is cracked and his head is falling down.

My knee goes straight into his face, followed by another punch, forcing him to his hands and knees. More red emerges, but I detect its warm, liquid nature.

Instead of standing, he swings his arms together. I realize too late why- his metal wings close in, tearing through my arm guard as I launch another attack, stopping me cold. Slamming his fists on the ground, a dull hum suddenly escalates to a roar- he has fired up his engines.

“Die!” he screams. Ah, how useful. Now I know exactly what he wants. To that end, he aims his oversized rifle at me.

He doesn’t delay this time, nailing me twice in the right arm. Sent flying, I almost fall through the previous hole he made as my armor crumbles away. I forgot how cold the wind was, but that’s quickly disregarded with a third round that burns through my shoulder.

“Where’s your arm now?” he asks. 

He thinks it’s been blown right off. I hate to disappoint, but I still have a right arm. It’s hidden away from his view. Until…

I flip myself over to grab him, but I don’t grab a neck like I expect. I latch onto a leg.

He’s taken off, and I’m holding on.

I blink first, in order to jab my knife into his rocket boots. They burn out with a cascade of sparks, but our altitude is rising with his back engines still active. He looks down at me, swats with his rifle and fires a bolt. The former strike completely misses, the latter does not.

It took me a second to realize why I began to feel pain. He shot me in the head.

But my left hand has since impaled my knife in his gut.

Now we’re falling. Now I collapse on the top of the superstructure with the final bits of my helmet and first pieces of my skin burning. Now he crashes face first a few meters away, driving my blade deeper inside.

I can see very clearly now, even within this cloudy night. Pieces of his armor lie about the roof. His rifle is twisted beyond recognition. And mine, locked and loaded with a fresh magazine, is pointed straight at him. A ragged, agonized breathing suggests I will need it.

“Any last words?” I dare to ask.

“Who… are you?” comes the faintest whisper. I doubt he can even hear himself.

“Exactly who I said,” I reply. “The greatest soldier.”

I imagine my enemy looking up one more time and beholding who I am. He’d see metallic hands dripping with ashes and blood. Glowing red eyes would stare down his own fading blue.

I do not grant him the chance. Now only a single bullet is necessary to end a life.

Next, I push him off the deck, giving him an impromptu burial at sea. He was a soldier. He deserved as much.

“Goodbye,” I mutter as he sinks away.

This isn’t over yet, I suspect. I will face more like him in the future.

That doesn’t matter to me.

I will win.