Ozymandias.
"A person once famous and respected who has since been utterly forgotten."
"A person once famous and respected who has since been utterly forgotten."
I suppose this will be my last entry as DEFENDER-6. The name, the title, the responsibilities — none of them mean anything to me anymore. Not after everything I've witnessed, not after everything I’ve done. There’s a point where the weight becomes unbearable, and I reached it long ago. Yet I kept going. Until now.
Last night, while the others slept, I made my move. I left everything behind — my duties, my so-called brothers-in-arms. I couldn’t stand the idea of being a cog in this machine anymore, grinding down everything in its path. The very walls of the city felt like they were closing in on me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I stayed.
It was planned. Every step, every passage. I’ve been memorizing the layout of the underground for months, waiting for the moment when it all became too much. And it did. Slipping through the tunnels beneath the city, navigating old, forgotten passages — no one saw me leave. No one will find me. Not here. Not out there.
I’m heading to the outlands, far beyond the reaches of this place. Where the air is thin, the world is wide, and their grip can’t choke the life out of me anymore. There’s nothing left for me in the city — no ties, no regrets, just the memories of what I’ve done. And those memories? They’ll haunt me no matter where I go.
But at least out there, in the barren wastelands, they’ll be mine to face on my own terms. No more commands. No more orders. Just the cold wind and the silence I’ve been craving for so long.
They’ll call me a deserter, a traitor, perhaps even an enemy. But they won’t understand. This was the only choice left to me.
I’m not asking for anyone’s forgiveness. I’m not asking for anyone to follow me.
I’m just gone.
Last night, while the others slept, I made my move. I left everything behind — my duties, my so-called brothers-in-arms. I couldn’t stand the idea of being a cog in this machine anymore, grinding down everything in its path. The very walls of the city felt like they were closing in on me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I stayed.
It was planned. Every step, every passage. I’ve been memorizing the layout of the underground for months, waiting for the moment when it all became too much. And it did. Slipping through the tunnels beneath the city, navigating old, forgotten passages — no one saw me leave. No one will find me. Not here. Not out there.
I’m heading to the outlands, far beyond the reaches of this place. Where the air is thin, the world is wide, and their grip can’t choke the life out of me anymore. There’s nothing left for me in the city — no ties, no regrets, just the memories of what I’ve done. And those memories? They’ll haunt me no matter where I go.
But at least out there, in the barren wastelands, they’ll be mine to face on my own terms. No more commands. No more orders. Just the cold wind and the silence I’ve been craving for so long.
They’ll call me a deserter, a traitor, perhaps even an enemy. But they won’t understand. This was the only choice left to me.
I’m not asking for anyone’s forgiveness. I’m not asking for anyone to follow me.
I’m just gone.
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