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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #2232403
A watching warrior.

Luminaro climbed the invisible stairs up to the watchtower. Putting down his pouch on the ledge of the North side of the tower, he flipped on his sensor lenses. Slowly, he scanned from right to left, down to up.

He repeated this maneuver every ten minutes. In between, Luminaro did in depth scans of each direction. Many found this duty tedious, but the light-warrior knew how vital it was that he follow protocol and stay alert while doing so.

“It has been too long! If they are coming, they should be here by now,” he told himself ruefully.

The watcher moved to the East side of the tower after an hour. In the next hour, he scanned the West side. Finally, he did the South. Then he repeated them in reverse.

A feeling began to creep up on the soldier. It was one of those multi-sensory sensations his trainer had insisted that his class take seriously and keep extra-alert for.

“General Lusteron always said a warrior lives and dies by such feelings. He insisted they should never be taken lightly or dismissed.”

So, he waited for more from the feeling. It grew so strong that Luminaro soon knew what it meant!

To the north-east, there appeared a spark of red light. Luminaro gave a warrior’s whoop and opened his pouch. Pulling out a long string of green light , he checked its brightness and adjusted it.

Then with the ease of long practice, he let it fly high into the air toward the spark. He watched it snake into the distance.

“They’re on their way! They’re coming home!” he shouted loudly as he did an improvised war dance on the tower’s deck.

The watchtower vaporized and he was falling! He was under attack! He’d been duped by a false signal!

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