Cyber Knight gamma-ray bursts through a ceiling of Armortex, sends fiberglass and plastic shards spalling down atop the mineral and rock exhibit. Clad in alpha-white armor, the curves and angles of his metal exoskeleton refracts LCD-length streams of particles.
Cyber Knight lays eons of waste through the museum, stomping sedimentary rock into 60,000 PSI blasts of dust and air–one man’s sinuses, another century’s topsoil–while the head of security bounces emergency push notifications off satellite dishes.
Cyber Knight swings a wide-ass high-frequency blade through brass-capped red velvet ropes and marble stands, glass cases, placards, and 6063 grade alloys. He bashes and smashes through to the next checkpoint, triggers a loading screen, and keeps his mind’s eye fixated on the center of his HUD through to a vacillating NAV point, bouncing like a fairy and guiding him deeper into the forest.
The first wave of guards crash through, unprepared and undisciplined–level 1 sentries to be vanquished and provide a logical progression from one grade of guard to the next, sliced and diced with anime-proportioned swings of lazer-quick crescent moons from the HF blade’s arc. They turned Cyber Knight’s blood setting to OFF, so he only sees nicely cauterized chunks of ahi ahi humans flop to the ground.
Cyber Knight is a mix of Sir Gawain and Old Boy and Raiden and Superman and Goku and Batman and John Wick and we like him because he only fights so he can get back to The Way Things Used to Be. The men he kills will have never existed once he is returned to his own time and allowed to make things Right. He tragically charges forward, trusting forces beyond his comprehension, makes widows of non-beings, neglects splintering narratives, denies compassion for vaporized souls, reduces favorable and unfavorable outcomes to 1:1, and believes firmly in his path.