"Seraphim," I shuddered, trying to stay composed.  A sworn enemy from my world.

Walking across the forest floor with my weapon drawn, I carefully inched closer to the target. They were only about 166 feet away, and things could get ugly. As I approached, images and thoughts of my previous world began to populate all over my head and haunt me. I could see glimpses of our gloomy past and the dystopian society we had become.

I felt my memory flashback before me, and I saw vivid images and memories:

Earth-77, before the collapse, was a dark, dreadful world filled with immense suffering and significant loss. I remembered seeing images of Salt Lake City populate my head. It was the same city where I lived my simulated life, but it was far different regarding the futuristic timeline. Over 500,000 people used to live here, now it was a ghost town.

The Seraphim, as we called them, were corrupt elite soldiers from Earth-77 that patrolled many abandoned cities after the Progenitor-89 virus outbreak, one of them being Salt Lake City because that's where patient zero was rumored to be. They were initially stationed to control the outbreak, but their methods of containment were highly questionable, inhumane, and unregulated by the disbanded government. They'd shoot any 'organic' on sight, meaning that anyone who wasn't wearing a full suit of air-tight protective armor would be eliminated without question. Animals included.

This was a desperate attempt to control the spread. While it did work, for the most part, it was completely unfair to honorable civilians, medical personnel, and policemen who had no access to such limited resources. It was an absolute slaughter, and the Seraphim essentially became the very thing they swore to destroy. Aggression was one symptom of the outbreak, but the Seraphim did a much better job displaying it than the virus. How ironic.

Seraphim were commonly fitted with dark gray or vantablack armor, colors to induce fear and power, consisting of pico-particles that were far more advanced than nano-technology. For one nanoparticle, 1000 pico particles could fit in its place, giving the armor a darker appearance than nano-armor due to its highly condensed nature. Thus, if you got in a knife fight with a Seraphim, their pico particle blade would slice through any nanoparticle armor like butter since the pico particles could easily slip between the nanoparticles.

However, pico technology was much harder to master than nanotech since the human brain could not manipulate particles as easily with electrical signal impulses. Often, it would require a highly augmented super-soldier from birth to successfully manipulate the particles to form any desired shape, such as weapons, armor, or tools. The Prophet of Perdition, leader of the last rebel terrorist group before the collapse, was the only human Seraphim I knew who had this malicious ability. He was a monstrous psychopath, much like his followers, who also bore the dark armor, and we rejoiced greatly after hearing he was finally destroyed.

Because of this difficulty, a quantum computer often preprogrammed many pico particle suits into default shapes and fixed structures. That way, an inexperienced user, such as myself, could wield the armor and benefit from its immense protection and offensive capabilities without having to know too much about pico technology.

Humans, therefore, have evolved to a point of high dependence. We relied heavily upon this technology to breathe in the realms of space and even in the many wasted locations on Earth. Our home had changed so much for the worse that we also had to change if we were to survive this new reality that we had set ourselves up for.

Compared to animals, we had many weaknesses and lacked many strengths that other creatures were naturally born with. For example, we had no fangs, no claws, no fur, no camouflage, no speed, no tail, no enhanced sense of smell, and no enhanced vision. However, the suits changed all that and turned our frail bodies into something well beyond what our ancestors never could've conceptualized. With the power of the human mind, we converted our shortcomings from a permanent genetic flaw into a temporal wound that could be healed. Forty-seven thousand years of evolution, we've barely even tapped the vastness of human potential.

Our abilities were beyond incredible thanks to particle technology that enhanced the human body and made us less human. Most of us wore the armor as an external piece, but some went as far as to implement it into each internal cell of his/her body. Essentially, you'd get metahumans, but the major drawback is most human bodies cannot tolerate such transformations, which leads to rejections and then a slow, painful death. Those who survived enjoyed their newfound abilities for the time being; nonetheless, such modifications required a great deal of energy that would quickly burn the body out if not nourished on a regular schedule. On average, humans who converted every cell of his/her body into pico particles and somehow survived would need to accustom themselves to a new 17,000 daily calorie diet.

Such a high price to pay was already demanding enough in the crashed economy, and food shortages were too severe to support such a lifestyle. Thus, most would keep the armor as an external feature to keep things frugal. These armors would always consume energy one way or another, but at least they wouldn't require more than 10,000 calories in a daily calorie diet. External pico-particle suits demanded 6,600 calories daily, while external nano-particle suits demanded only 3,700 daily. Despite the nano-suits requiring half the fuel, the pico-suits could offer ten times the benefits.

Light-colored nanoparticle suits, such as the one I was currently wearing, were nowhere near as good when it came to protection. Thus, the military discontinued them and took them out of production as soon as the new generation emerged. Their only other advantage over pico particle suits was that rearranging the nanoparticles was much more user-friendly to gain a tactical advantage. Even so, without rearranging the particles, a pico particle suit could still easily crush any nano suit.

It was like chess. Light-armored soldiers always had to make the first move to have any chance of beating a dark-suited Seraphim soldier. Otherwise, if Seraphim made the first move, the nanoparticle armor would quickly be shredded. Hence, I had to take the first shot in the forest. It was the only way.

Thus, the Seraphim were vile and savage creatures, despite what their name might suggest and the original purpose they were supposed to serve. They were once regular human beings, but they took cybernetic experimentation to a new level and traveled down forbidden paths. They were prideful, filled with hate, obsessed with power, and would do anything to make life miserable for those who didn't associate with their cult group.

From the beginning, not all Seraphim were wicked. The very few, about 7%, tried to help oppressed civilians and were somewhat successful. Nevertheless, their suits were all pre-programmed under the same militant network, and it wouldn't take long before they were caught. Thus, those caught were rapidly disposed of without question, which meant the lifespan of a good Seraphim soldier was too short. You die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become an abomination.

It was only rumored at the time, but some claim that the dark armor they wore was toxic and made them go insane if exposed for too long. Much like a symbiote, it tricked the user's mind into thinking it was comfortable to wear despite the adverse health conditions that followed. Because of this manipulation, most Seraphim would always keep their armor on to hide their cybernetic deformities, and it became their identity. They may have been safe from Progenitor-89 externally, but internally, they seemed to be afflicted with something much more sinister.

I've worn the armor before, albeit briefly. It felt superb and made me feel powerful and even invincible at times. Nonetheless, I could not deny that there was something fundamentally and morally wrong with it. It was as if it were imbued with dark, unwelcoming energy within it that suppressed and voided my most human emotions. Not to mention, it was toxic and harmful to most users - especially those who weren't cybernetically augmented to slow the toxins. Even then, the toxins would eventually overcome the frequent enhancements. 

Before the collapse, I remembered being positioned outside the lab near the Agartha-88 colony. During the crucial time when planetwide evacuations were taking place via federation ships, we attempted to convince citizens on the ground that they should come with us through the teleporters instead. No one would listen.  They glared upon us like traitors who brought this fate upon them. 

The next thing we knew, the Seraphim rebels stormed our outpost. We loaded our weapons and got into position, but as soon as the first few building guards were eliminated, fear and panic took over and consumed our morale. We did our best to face them, but the rebels' anger became a sharp tool that cut us down straight to the bone. 

Nevertheless, our enemy was ruthless and efficient because they were full-time soldiers armed with Chemrails. It didn't take long before they brought us down to our knees. They took away our homes, beat the dignity out of us, and would've also taken away our lives. But they desired that we witnessed our planet's ultimate demise firsthand.

And then, out of desperation, bearing our harsh wounds and hours of being unable to breathe properly, we came across the light nano-particle suits from the historic vault, making us feel like ghosts of our former world. Despite our firepower and armor strength being cut down by more than 60%, we felt much calmer, and our overall demeanor seemed to stabilize itself in no time. We were monsters when we wielded that dark armor, but now we are ghosts because the light armor represents our former brave military men from centuries ago, back when we had a unified world. In other words, back when we were more human.

Now, my dreadful flashback finally ended.  I came back to my senses.

The dark monsters were in this forest, so it was time for me to go and haunt them. I had no idea how they had made it into this dimension, but that didn't matter. I had to get rid of them, whatever the cost. The fate of this world would depend on it.

At the time of the outpost attack, they made the first move, and they won. But in this world, I had to stand my ground. No more running.

I, Cheribim, would make the first move this time, and that's what I just did. After my past thoughts finally ran their course, I was just about 26 feet away from the Seraphim, and they were probably lying on the ground behind the lofty fallen log.

Judy and I were both nervous, but I proceeded towards the target. Instead, she also proceeded with me. Wait a minute. I thought I told Judy to stay behind. It's too dangerous!

Technically, she was 'behind,' but she was only six feet away, and I worried that she'd become collateral damage. I couldn't afford to lose a friend, even if it's a bunny friend. She was a brave bunny, but I feared she would get herself killed. After all, untutored courage is useless in the face of educated bullets.

In this case, though, we wouldn't be facing bullets. Bullets in my world were discontinued centuries ago and are only available on the black market. This time, we'd face high-intensity phaser rounds that could disintegrate any organic target, especially if it came from a Seraphim's weapon. They were standardly equipped with repeating blasters, but I only had a semi-auto. Either way, I had to make it work. I was going to tell Judy to stand back again, but my eyes were firmly locked on the threat ahead of us. Once again, I forcefully gestured and commanded her to back away, but she kept following.

"Cheribim! Can you please tell me what's going on?" she panicked. "What did you just do?" 

I said nothing and pressed forward.

With the phaser rifle ready, I aimed down my blue-dot sight and peaked over the log.