No one remembers

who broke the sky,

and it has been night

for so long now

that no one remembers

what day was either.

There is only the darkness —

a black, bottomless

void of an eye

that watches everything,

forever.

But our eyes move

across the world to the distant

continent of Aegerlünd,

over the Craid Mountains,

deep into the brittle glass desert

of Zamqat Bu,

where two young women

stand together atop a tall, jagged cliff.

One of the women,

petite, with spiky black hair,

and a glaze of gray fur

on her cheeks and bare arms —

a lycanthrope

from the Icethorne Taiga —

peers through a laserscope.

Her name is Chys.

“I see it,” Chys says,

“The Library of Despair.

I see the

broken obelisk.

The Supreme Executive was right.”

The other woman

takes the laserscope.

“The Supreme Executive

is always right,”

she says.

The other woman is none other

than She-What,

Princess-General

of the Armed Forces of Thunder Corporation,

the most powerful company in

the Black Hemisphere.

Tall, muscular; yet feminine

in every way demanded of her,

she has flowing curls of blond hair,

and a beautiful face

masking a tactically brilliant

and expensively-educated mind.

Her white battle-dress signifies

her purity,

with a high hem line —

to signify her confidence.

At her hip hangs her

nefariously willful

Rainbow Sword of Artemica,

a bloodthirsty work of smithery

with an edge sharper than light.

She-What passes the laserscope

back to Chys.

“Tell Commander Veetman

to advance the tanks.”

“Advance the tanks?”

Chys laughs.

“It’s a library. Sages. Scribes.

You and I

could secure it alone!”

She-What shakes her head.

“Cruelty is its own reward,”

she tells her friend,

smiling.

The tanks advance.

Our eyes

follow their heavy treads

as they crunch and crash the glass

underneath their tracks.

The night sky above

intently watches

the beacon lights

and clouds of glass dust below.

She-What sits back in her seat

in the cockpit of her super robot,

watching the clamor before her.

Whoever

inhabits the library

gives no sign

they are preparing for the attack.

Chys’s voice crackles over

the gem radio —

“Within firing distance.”

“Fire.”

She-What speaks softly,

disinterested.

The long triangles of the tanks’ turrets

alight

in bursts of rainbow flames,

projecting the best,

most expensive,

most destructive

munitions

money can buy.

Explosions hit the library —

cracking domes,

crashing in halls,

in heat so hot

that the forcefield windows

malfunction

and spit alchemical nanoplasma

that spreads fire through the library

quickly.

Walls collapse.

Supporting pillars explode

in molten heat.

Through her laserscope,

She-What watches

a group of men

flee out of the front doors

of the library,

some are injured, bloody.

She does not yet see

what she wants to see.

Chys’s voice comes over the radio.

“I don’t see him, boss.”

She-What is silent.

She doubles the magnification

on her laserscope.

Yes, only men.

They are looking for a child.

A boy.

“Cease fire,” says She-What.

“Right, boss,” Chys replies.

The tanks lower their cannons.

Silence expands

across the desert.

Great plumes of smoke

billow out

of the tumbled ruins

of the Library of Despair.

“I’m going down there,”

She-What tells Chys.

She pushes the throttle

on her super robot,

and it glides through the air

over the tanks

towards the library.

Her sensors tell her

that Chys is following her

in her own super robot,

while Commander Veetman stands by.

She-What settles

the super robot's heavy feet

down on the smoldering glass

in front of the library.

The sages shield themselves

from the light and the exhaust,

shivering in fear,

too afraid to flee

too weak to fight.

She-What popped open her hatch

and jumped out of the super robot,

her hand falling to rest

on her Rainbow Sword’s hilt

as she approached

the bleeding sages.

One of the older ones,

blood streaming down his face,

shouts at her,

“How can you do this?

We are defenseless!

How can you just destroy

ancient knowledge?

You’re not human!”

“No,” she said,

“I am She-What.”