The Lightbreakers of Orpheus

A Sci-fi flash fiction

“The light is your enemy,” the voice wheezed through the biomechanics in his brain. Wakeup call was the worst part of the day.

“Never trust the light.” He was up, ready and packed in 60 seconds. The ticking of the clock pecking his brain tick tick tick tick.

“Break the light,” voice sliced through the living parts of his brain, his feet moved fast, it helped to cope with the torturous high-pitch voice.

“Serve the Rebels.” Silhouettes of others popped out their cabins just like he did. Images created by blobs of blue, green, yellow, orange, and red, the biomechanics inbuild into his head, covering his eyes, displayed them as thermal images. They were not men, merely blobs of colours, soundless, breathless particles in a huge mechanism, immaculate killing machine created to resist the light. Synchronous thumping of boots, the rhythm of his life.

“You are our strength.” Folding in line, a rainbow of colour-blobs, same height, same posture, silence.

“The Rebels will provide. Extend arm for the feed.”

Left arm extended. A cold robotic touch, a tube plugged into the biomechanical canal implanted in his arm. Sweet chemicals flowing into his system; the best part of the day, the feed. Dopamine revelry, adrenaline kicking in within seconds, three, two, one…

“Prepare to fight, soldier!” The feeding tubes sucked back into robotic arms; the line of blind, chemically-pumped soldiers ready to leave the vessel. It landed before they woke. The enemy’s ground gonna bleed tonight.

“Resist the light. Fight. Leave none alive.” He sighed relieved, the battles were tough, but the voice would leave him alone until the next command. It might even stretch into an hour.

The door swooshed open; they knew the drill well. Marching into the darkness, only reality was the sandy ground of Orpheus beneath their feet. Spread out. Look for the enemy. Do not harm a soldier with the red signal, inbuild to know their own. Cold darkness. Nothing of substance. Nothing was real but the light and the sandy ground, and the light was their enemy.

***

He had known colours, years back when the light of their nearest star Cydonia bathed his days in simple joys. He was a simple lad living in the outskirts of the fancy Rebel city. “All must serve the noble cause,” they said before taking him away. He was chosen to fight the light because he was the fittest boy in school. Training, training, operations, biomechanics planted into his brain and eyes, to resist the Photoflash weapons, bombs and guns, a revolutionary technology the enemy used to disarm the Rebel forces. The light weapons left soldiers blind, useless, helpless. Thousands wiped out without much effort.

The Rebels found a way to break the light. He was one of the elite soldiers, men deliberately blinded to the light, a Lightbreaker on the ruthless planet Orpheus, war-torn between the Government and the Rebels. He was strong, he was resilient, he was serving the noble cause…or so the shrilling voice planted in his brain said every day.

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Thank you for reading!

What do you say? Does it work? Should I continue this story? Since I’m not much of a Sci-fi girl, I’m afraid I sound silly when writing it…