Rated 16+ for violence.
"Will you be my mommy?"
Korai's POV
I didn't like the accusing way Branden spoke to my mom. But I decided to let it slide.
This time.
He was more powerful than me, I knew, but I could still destroy him, as long as I had the element of surprise. And if that failed, I would simply give him all I had, and hope for the best.
To me, strategies were cowardly, excuses to stall around while the enemy attacked. Want to find a weakness? Hit them all over and pray you end up slaughtering them.
"Your intuitiveness is impressive," Branden said to her, glancing up north again. "We should probably go collect it. Any takers?"
Elise stood up first, the only time I had seen her volunteer for anything without consulting me. "I know it's exact location. It's only ideal if I go." She glanced at me, that motherly furrow above her brow.
"I'll stay here and watch over things, momma," I reassured her. "If all else fails, I'll just blow everything up."
A synthetically relieved smile crossed her lips, and she nodded, marching forward without uttering anything more.
I wondered briefly just how much will mom had been given. She didn't say much about her creator, except she loved in a way that only cyborgs could: falsely yet truly.
"May I come along?" Branden asked, and I instantly protested. They all stared at me quizzically, not even Mom understanding my outburst.
"We gotta stick together, you know?" I told him, stepping forward shyly. "How about Rei go? That way, double the fire power to guard our things."
They all found this reasonable enough and did as I suggested. When Rei and mom were gone, giving me one last warning glance that we would discuss this later, I turned angrily toward Branden.
He didn't even flinch.
"Listen, bud," I warned in a low voice, "Don't ever speak to my mother like that-"
"That... thing is not your-"
I socked him.
Even though my mother wasn't alive in the disgusting sense of the word- with veins, organs, and blood- she was still alive in the way that mattered: with as much love as one could muster. If anyone tried to say otherwise, I killed them.
Hard.
But Branden didn't take being punched in the face well. Evidently, it was so hard it knocked him backward. He stood up, now a few yards away, and brushed himself off. His piercing red eyes held me, trying to send images of death.
I shook my hands, energy flowing through them and into my palms. Two fireballs formed and I stared at him, daring him to approach me. If this failed, I would have to show my right eye.
If that happened, it would spell trouble for all of us.
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