Critique needed

Comment on the one daily post/daily prompt you like the most. No war today. Today we review our work and help each other heal and prosper. Share your thoughts on my work so far and help me take the WORLD… I mean get good, yeah, that’s what I want. *sweating intensely

X-2119A

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/20/x-2119a/

Body Count

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/21/body-count/

Brother in Arms

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/22/brother-in-arms/

Ooops!

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/23/ooops/

Warriors Hart

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/24/warriors-hart/

Snipers Fate

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/25/snipers-fate-meaningless/

Bunker X-29

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/26/bunker-x29/

Parallel Universe

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/27/parallel-universe/

Viking Charge

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/28/vikings-charge/

Hostile Territory

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/29/hostile-territory/

House of Glass

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/30/house-of-glaisis/

War Wounds

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/10/war-wounds/

Post Battle Problems

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/03/post-battle-problem/

Picnic Panic

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/04/picnic-panic/

Into the Hell

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/05/into-the-hell/

Combat Lines

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/06/combat-lines/

Last Reaper Standing

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/07/last-reaper-standing/

Agent of Death

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/08/agent-of-death/

Directive FL0001

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/09/directive-fl0001/

Delta Lima Six

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/10/delta-lima-six/

Pink Mist

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/11/pink-mist/

Alien Hordes

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/17/alien-hordes/

Memes… Enough said!

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/18/memes-enough-said/

Annihilator of Tamir

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/19/annihilator-of-tamir/

Dog Fight

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/20/dog-fight/

Catastrophe

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/catastrophe/

Dumb Death

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/22/dumb-death/

100 Days of War

https://dronstadblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/23/100-days-of-war/

Impression

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For more topics, find me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dronstad1/

100 days of war

Desert fumed with heat, clouding our vision, breaking sweat and driving us mad. All soldiers were cooking inside of their heavy breastplates and just at the open spots, their skin was properly red, burnt and bursted. Chainmail was soaking wet with sweat, however we poured fresh water on it, to keep the temperature at bay. Commander rested in shade, while his entourage ate roasted chickens and drank wine like newly masters of Zaria, but the city was yet to be conquered. High walls of sand kept us away from the beautiful palaces, white and cold villas, paved streets with night torches that dispersed shadows and a fortress, stacked with various treasure and harem. “Why fighting for a handful of grain and a sip of wine, when we could raid a city prepared?” – was our motto, so the King patiently waited Zaria to mass the resources, and when they were ready, we came.

Yesterday, our King died in a desperate attempt of running down the walls. A rain of arrows pierced his old body, gouged his eyes and took away over a thousand battle man that followed him. This morning, more than a few dozen man died from a sun stroke, and twelve from the hunger. Those who buried them, will probably die tomorrow, and so the circle of death rolled over us.

– Watchout Sir. Here comes the Prince. – my apprentice spoke, wiping sweat and fetching me a belly of water.

The tall, skinny and pale was our Prince. His skin wasn’t affected with the heat like ours, so he got the highest respect from us, as he was a royalty and immune to the petty tortures of many. Cape on him appeared heavy for a normal person, but he carried it like a feather. For some reason he rejected to wear crown or symbols of his nobility, perhaps to show us he is one with the people, and that actually worked in the ranks of professional skirmishers. He stood high above me, looked at my scheme for the attack, signed and gazed at the wall.

– What are your orders, Siege Master? – he spoke absent, thinking about the next attack.

– My King. The War Master have given me command to prepare the battlements for the second attack. Siege towers are ready. We built in the inner shields to protect us from the wildfire and hasty ballitas, Sir. Men are tired, so we agreed to use the rested one and Konians. – I said with my head lowered as I felt shame and grief for the past King.

– No. Bring in the catapults. We will bombard the city.

– But Sir… Forgive me, my Master for speaking out of line, but the bombardment have brought us no luck in making the wall crumble. Many have died trying to bring them close enough for the effective fire.

– We will use a lighter projectiles. Have no worry old man, for you spoke your mind, and that is one clever mind. It served my father well. I wish not to separate myself from it. – he said with a smile and grazed my weak shoulder, then he took few steps back, looked at the tent with commanders feasting, kicked the dirt and came back to me, – Tell the Grave Master to leave the dead to rot upon the sand. – he spoke to his guard and the man went running, – We fought for hundred days, and made no progress in invasion. We must break the city before we break our forces.

– You would want to throw the dead over the wall? – my eyes lit in horror, as that thing was demanding broad preparations and constant medical care, – Our men will grow sick of illness that bares no cure known to us. It took my boy and wife last year. I fairly mourned them, Sir. This is not something your father would do. This sort of attack demands bigger force, welcoming weather and more posts around the city. We can not perform up to the task. The siege might prolong for many years. The last time we did such a thing, we occupied the desert for twelve years. – my beard shook, while flashes of numerous horrors went before my eyes.

– Yes, it did. Doing this, Zarians will assume we have another twelve years to wait until the whole city is plagued. At the first day, they will kill all of their dogs and beasts, so they will not fear of them attacking, when they taste a Ildocian blood… Which means, their cavalry will be down and the infantry will be slow and with no aid. Plague will also decimate their ranks, as the death is not interested in someones years. I would not worry about fair weather, as Zarian needs rain, and we cut their river. – he said and went on his way, leaving me to think about his word.

We did as he said, even with a War Masters protest. Fool even tried to assassinate our Prince, but he saw it coming and decapitate him and his entourage. Our late King’s body was the one that led the charge with thousand more that followed him in a glorious battle. They brought bloody crown before the Zarian Sultan, showed him what doom awaits him beyond the cold walls of his castle.

Catapults rained our dead over the walls for a month, when Zaria rose their white flags on the highest dome. He was the first one to take Zaria in hundred days off war, and triple our suplies, because Zarians haven’t had time to spend them in long days they feared coming. When we got back home, Ildocian whores were surprised to have us so quickly.

Catapult

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Dumb Death

I already knew the space was vast and big to the point that brain could not process the amount of such thought, but this was something else. We found ourselves right in the middle of the void that was surrounded by colorful nebulas, shiny space mist, bright stars and an empty dark that froze our bones whenever we would look at it. Jefferson said it could be a black hole and that it was too far away to have any influence on us, but none the less, we were afraid of that thing.

Our daily thoughts raced back and forward from worries about that “emptiness”, to the other problems such as: not enough fuel, busted engine, broken wall of the tunnel that led to a storage capsule. We had to seal that compartment, secure it with a silicon foam to make sure we are not leaking any oxygen into the space. As time went by, our suspicion of an attack was rising. Braoury cohorts were out there, searching for those that escaped the certain death in battle. Their sonic-fighters were patrolling the quadrant jump-mile by jump-mile, making us grow restless and edgy.

– We need to get out and fix the cannons. Stats are showing concerning decrease of power in the left crane. Take the gear and head out. I will tell you what to do. – Jefferson spoke in the radio, then he turned and started to conduct diagnostics on the ship systems.

In a minute, robots built my suit, connected all the parts and tightened them to a desired volume. Gearbox was conveniently attached for my chest and rifle joined the exoskeleton.

– I’m out. – I said, – The hole is still there. – my eyes automatically went for the void, but the rustling in the ear turned me around, – Tunnel is still closed, but the solar panels are bent. Call for Jack and Mira to fix those. Maybe we are losing power because of the panels. It could be that they are not receiving enough light.

– Roger. I’ll send them right away. Have you got to the rear cannons? – Jefferson asked, looking in the broad holographic visor where our long distant radio showed emptiness of signals and absence of life in the parameter.

– Yeah, I just stepped on the main cannon. Wiring is completely busted man. Those faggots kicked us hard. Look at this fucking shit. – I badly handled the tentacle of the pulse cannon, then a part broke off, – Aaah, for fuck sake. They used chembombs on our asses. I bet, a frickin’ banana could cut this metal with nothing to stop it. My God, look at this damn thing… Dude, we have to cut off our weapons, maybe all the way to the main capsule with a cockpit.

I was too busy talking shit, not able to realise a battle cruiser behind me with a barrel pointed at my ass. Son of a bitch laughed at me, whirled his gun around, drawing hearts like it was a game. When his play thing got stuck in the cannon barings, he moved up to throw me a shade. Immediately I hopped back and grabbed my rifle, when he presset on his controls and made a jump to the front of our ship.

– Braoury!!! They are here!!! – I yelled as hard as I could but it was of no help.

The enemy ship opened fire on us, while circling around us, pointing his jets on our platings, burning the chemicals from the bombardment, ripping our ship in half. I waited for the fucker to show up so I could open fire at him, but he never came in my cross. Visir showed the lack of communication bars, and then the rustling overtook my helmet. There I was, stuck on a cannon, adrift from already adrift ship that drifted away from the main force, that drifted away from home, that drifted into the void, that drifted somewhere in the space we didn’t knew it existed. It would be a little comforting to die right now, but to slowly glide towards the scary hole, was more than I bargained for.

Adrift

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Catastrophe

It was on the news again. It said some people have died in a horrible attack. Some say it was those filthy Zarians, but I knew better. Forty years of service made me see through the obvious lies that media served me with a silver spoon. Those perfect teeth, luscious pouty lips, gentle eyes are not fooling me anymore. A woman’s hologram shivered as she spoke the info, showing the right angles of the catastrophe that played out, just few hours ago.

Ildocians always had the freshest topics, they covered all of the blood and gore, while Zarians constantly repeated their mantras and blamed Ildok for every disaster that have hit their beloved town. Gratnians were more focused on a bad harvest and just a few lines passed the ribbon, informing about some of the brethren that have died somewhere. Konians loved a good drama and kept running few of the footage they had, which was insufficient to form a story or make an opinion from it. Matocians were whole another story. They just showed the stats and impact on the economy, maybe few suggestions on how to use the violence of others to make profit. Shamefully I was one of those people, unmoored from everyday life, emotionless, distant from the suffering and numb of sorrow.

How could I be human, when I did the inhuman? How could I feel empathy for victims, when I have committed crime? How can I be the monster, when politicians worked for one? Pain, cries, anger, death, flames… It felt so normal to me.

Another scene just started playing. A man carried the bag of charcoal from the crater. Covered in white dust from head to toes, he ran screaming while black blood drew curves on his face. Other frame zoomed on the thing he carried, and it wasn’t the thing at all, but a half bunt newborn, probably his son. I felt nothing. I have seen it too many times, so I watched at the hologram because there was nothing else to do.

Unmoored

Aleksinac, NATO, Bombardovanje, Godissnjica

Dog Fight

Clouds in the night sky were beneath us with all of the things we love so dearly that stayed behind. Red light illuminated the cargo area in which we were getting bored, hooking up gear and checking operating systems. Sharp wind whirled in the top of the vessel, just above the crew that was busy with tasks. Headphones were full of chatter, loud cursings of joy and battle cries. Laugher also entertained us while we sat in our spots, waiting for deployment. Turbulence rose from the right wing when the whole thing shifted in the designated route. “Few more minutes” – someone said and comms went silent. Now, everybody was at their final preparations for combat, except me, because I did that hours ago.

– Are you nervous? – comrade asked, smirking in his fragmented helmet with a holographic visor.

– No. War is my nature, my legacy and my calling. My grandfather was a Colonel in the First Ildocian Battalion and my father managed to become a General in the artillery. I was not far away from the army, so the military life comes naturally to me. – I replied with the same smile and looked at the cockpit of my friend.

He was praying in mimic for the God to spare his life and give him plenty targets to shot on, then he draw a circle on his chest and bowed his head. Many pilots looked nervous, scared and worried about what is to come, but not me, it was all too familiar to me. My training begun since I was a boy, a little child that gazed at the stars and rockets, piercing through the night, aiming high with their flames. Everything I knew was somehow connected with the army and I knew a lot.

A pilot, opposite from me was clicking on his equipment, playing with his belt, staring at the iron door and waited for them to open so he can soar and saw death. Our leader was giving us a motivational speech, but no one listened because we had other thoughts on our mind. I jammed my wife’s picture next to the one with a ultrasound positive of our daughter and smiled for a second, but then I stretched my neck and focused on that iron door.

– Incoming! – crew member screamed his last as a rocket blew the rear compartment and turned his body into a carbonated puzzle.

Alarms started to blare and drones buzzed away to place foam on fire. My sight was aimed in one spot, zoned out from the turbulence, rattling sound of the un-tied gear and moans of the crew. I was ready to roll.

– Flak guns, boys! Get ready! – crew member broke his throat, barely taking his eyes from radiant monitor, – Here they come! – he continued when a thumbling sound of gunshots became ever present and constant in my ears.

Everything was shaking, falling down, even the air got a flare of fire and burnt meat. Senses went crazy when another rocket punched the hole in the bowl of our carrier. Things came flying onto us now, hitting the thick glass and denting our folded wings as the vessel was losing control.

– Blood Squadron! Code “Aramon”! I repeat: code “Aramon”! All lights green! Go, go, go!

A courageous cry bursted in the radio as iron doors were getting wider, and wider, and wider. My eyes turned into brilliant polished glass and visor lit the incoming drone targets, heavy shapeshifting fighters. The group of them was coming straight at us, just a hundred of kilometers away. Grip on weapon control grew firmer and my teeth clenched in anticipation of a glorious fight.

– Ripper Four Gama Tango One Niner, deployed! – I said in helm and punched the lever, when a rotating cranking sound of the mechanism released my sourcer.

I started to descend with a climbing speed, breaking the clouds and seeing the lights of the city we had to destroy. Strong beams of light searched for us in the sky, while the comets from the flak guns boomed around me. My visor was showing the drones and more of the fighter jets I had to remove from the air. It will be an easy dog fight.

Descend

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Annihilator of Tamir

Troops were resting in the field, hidden in the tall grass, they were searching for the shade beneath the trees. A boy was bringing them water, walking from one soldier to the other with a confused expression on his face. He kept his hand extended to the soldier, waiting for him to return the bottle while looking around, memorizing the landscape of blue hills that were descending into the golden desert.

The whole chalk of men didn’t appear in shape with those dirty uniforms, muddy faces and two fingers long beard, they looked more of a band of bandits than a regular army. We were all tired, exhausted from five months spent marching, fighting, destroying villages and burning cities. However, we had enough ammo saved from the last fight and the food we stole was plenty to keep us fed for another week.

My deputy and me, crawled to the highest point of the terrain where we kept scouting the distortion of the heated sand while in prone position. Sniper detachment was few feet away, sleeping in their shallow trench. Silence of the wind lured us to sleep, but I shaked the man beside me and gave him the look. It was enough to keep him awake for a couple more hours.

– Rise the colors. – I said it to the deputy when he knocked down the scope on his visor and zoomed at the dancing air.

– Those are our men there, sir. We shouldn’t reveal our position to them. They are on patrol. – deputy said wiping sweat under the helmet.

– You would trust a Zarian to be honest? Those could be the enemy patrol, posing as one of ours. We are too far from the frontline, the battle is miles behind us. Rise our colors, damn you! – I pounded on his headgear and he slided back of the hill to rally the men.

The chalk was ready in a minute. Many stood heavy on their feet, with a long machine guns pointed down. Snipers kept mapping the movement of the enemy patrol, until we circled around the hill we were on, went down and exited from the other side, maneuvering to the flank of the collone.

Patrol stopped, fell back and dotted out the terrain, making themselves as twice as hard to hit. “Smart” – I thought and pushed walking to them in relaxed way. Their leader yelled at us, then he whispered to his men to take aim at us. I couldn’t blame the man for wanting to live, so I smiled in an approach and waved my hand. He checked me out with disgust, staring at my old and ripped uniform, rippled hat and rusty exoskeleton. One look at my eyes would’ve told him more about us than the words, but he was more interested by hardened motor oil on my cheeks and brown smeared bondages on my arm.

– Hold! Stop right there! – he screamed, notifying me he was already too young to lead men, – Identify yourselfs! Who are you and what are you doing here?

– Put down your weapons Lieutenant! You are talking with a General! – I showed him the rank under the chest pocket where I hid my ribbons to avoid the unexpected death from an enemy sniper, – You wanna know who I am?! I’ll tell ya. – I came so close to him that I almost could smell him pissing, – General FUCKING Dir Krones from the motherfucking Deathbringer battalion! Special Units son! – I held him by the collar, bulged my eyes and breathed the sharp stench of onion in his face, – Who the fuck are you?! What the hell are you doing here?!

He paused in horror, randomly throwing his eyes around while my man surrounded his. A hard swallow of spit gave him some strength in voice, but still shaking in fear. I have let him down on the ground and gave him some time to come back to his senses, then I took a stroll around him when he finally spoke.

– Sir! I’m sorry Sir! Second Lieutenant Ilt Mirth, Sir! We are a unit from the First Ildocian Army, Sir! We are sent into the desert to scout for supplies in the vicinity, Sir! – he proudly screamed as a true Idocian soldier, which made me smirk to his inexperience.

– Good. Relax soldier, I’m only playing with you. You have completed you mission, boy. We have mapped all of the villages around this hills and we have a lot of food in our camp. You rest now, we will send you back in the morning with all you need. – I tapped the boy on his shoulder and drew a smile on his young pale face.

What he didn’t knew back then was, that this was to be his last night on Kepler. We slit their throats for posing as an Ildocian patrol. He was marked as a spy and left to burn in the desert. I knew better than him what is like to roam the desert for five years, have spies in my ranks, chase the deserters and rogue enemy units. I knew what is like to love your country and I was notorious for it.

The names Zarians called me, didn’t made me angry nor I felt ashamed for what have I done to them. “General Wrath the Deathbringer”, “Dir Krones, a crusher of Bones” and “Annihilator of Tamir” were some of them. I loved them all as they spoke more than the ribbons under my pocket. Why be ashamed for something you did in joy?

Notorious

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Alien hordes

It was horrifying enough to stand on an edge of the wall, the last frontier, but having to fight rocky faced aliens, was more terrifying than the rest of the troubles I’ve been into. Many battles had my face and name in it, many victims begged for mercy as I was slaughtering their whole families, of which some were innocent. I had no control over my body, nor power to disobey the orders or take my own will into action. I was simply a prisoner of the state, disposable unit that was good only for demolition.

Radio was constantly rattling in my ear, shouting the violent cries of those that were left behind the enemy lines. I wanted to move to their aid, save few of them and give us some fighting chance, however, command was to stand still and gaze at the sunset, where the horizon line shimmered in heat and shadows of an approaching enemy. Desert was vast with a high iron wall spread across the hillside of the whole territory, and right on the top, heavy guns awaited the rocky menace.

– Here they come! – comrade said when my rifle automatically rose and locked on a small blimp in the distance.

– Search the quadrant. – I spoke into the microphone, then the visor took over and started to show a radiant turquoise grid, catching shapes of the hills.

Soon enough a huge specter of an alien topled the dull ground with his enormous hand and pushed it in like it was made of sponge. Dirt flew around its hands, blocking the view of warm colors in the sky. Two car size eyes blinked at me, then his teeth presented the darkness of his mouth. My hydraulic oil froze in a moment, throat clogged and lips went dry.

– Thanks God, when we got this suits, we were relieved of a need to leak, or I would be pissing myself right now. – comrade said in mechanical sound, modifying his gun for a bigger calibre.

My visor passed him in a pitiful manner, then it rotated to take aim. “Fire upon those giants!” the raspy command activated the long barrels in the back, then the machines loaded the grenades, closed the shafts and a platoon fire thundered the pale blue air. A strong whistling sound floated for a second then the shells fell down, turning the alien in a fire made tornado. It was magnificent until the sharp, ugly teeth broke the wall of flames and began chasing at us. His brothers exited the hills, took a stand and started running. Our lines wanted to fall back into safety, but the order blocked us in place. Cannons kept showering the field in front of us, enemy struggled to stay whole, but few of them salted the dirt with boulders, blown away from their skulls.

And there I was standing, like watching a movie, not the real life. Arms did what arms had to do, they had their command issued to them. That was my precipice of horror, war and life. The giant climbed the wall, looking at me straight in the visor, while my bursts rattled over his eyes and cheeks. He crossed over me and jumped down to play with the cannons. One of the aliens came very close to the long barrel when the round went through him and shattered his stomach into smithereens. He silently fell there, then the other giant smashed the expensive iron and made it a copy of a trainwreck.

Rifle isolated the sounds around me, but it stopped eventually when the aliens moved further into our territory. I watched them disappear in the dark of night, followed by the cries of the soldiers they left to die in pain. I still wanted to move, but my command was to stay still.

Precipice

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The Rise of the AVKF

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Intro

To show how much is the Balkan interest into the Sci-Fi, I must mention yet another website and a small group of people that use their time to promote various genres. I wrote about Sci-Fi Society and Lazar Komarčić SFA, but they are not alone in the Balkan. There are more of these people that stare at the starry skies and write, in order to help Balkans Sci-Fi production. They go by the name Autostoperski Vodič Kroz Fantastiku – AVKF, or in English – Hitchhikers’ Guide through the Fantasy. The name is a sort of a joke, which travels from ear to ear, bringing in the curiosity about this certain site. Why writing about them, – well, let’s find out.

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The Origin

The origin story started at the grim point of our lives, where one of the respected Sci-Fi beacons (SF Serbia) went down due to the editor’s decision to end the site. Nobody knows exactly of, why he has decided to do that, however, the fans suggest that it must be the lack of time or energy that caused this step. In those sad days, dragons didn’t fly in the cloudy sky, monsters silently slept in their caves, valiant heroes awaited for the danger to ensue, but it never came. Blades went dry and dusty, shields rested above the fireplace as a memory of the glory days. What? Too poetic again? Ugh, but I like it that way. Come on, stay with me on this… Alright, I’ll stop.

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It started as an opinion of a girl that said to her friend: You should make another site; and the guy did it. At the 9th of September 2015, the AVKF was born. The rise of popularity shortly followed and everybody was happy again. Other sites, newspapers and radio programs, even the foreign ones, welcomed the AVKF, recognizing it as a valuable Sci-Fi portal for all that want to get informed in speculative science. Now, two years running, it still keeps its trend of popularity, constantly providing quality content for it viewers.

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About the website

What makes this site special and worth of looking is: numerous topics and broad interest in all of the things that stand marked as a Sci-Fi. Primary attention is being steered onto the fantasy part, where along with the already favorable genre; other genres have a spotlight, reserved just for them. Genre of products reviewed (comics, films and shows); vary from horror, classic Sci-Fi, cyberpunk, steampunk, epic fantasy, anime and subgenres of the previously listed branches. All of the reputable authors, from the John R. R. Tolkien and George R. R. Martin (do all these epic fantasy writers get their R. R. as a badge of success?), to the Arthur C. Clark and Steven King; along with many others can be equally found on AVKF website. What brings the fans to that place are the insightful facts about the authors and their work, so it is partially educational website, a good place for those new to the Sci-Fi. The site’s reach is well accepted in the countries such as Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro and many more.

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Goals

The AVKF website currently holds around 1 666 battle ready followers, but that number is rapidly changing, which means, there is a chance for them to evolve into something more influential in the Balkans. All of the things I have mentioned deserve to be discussed about and shared around, because that is the only way for them to achieve their goals. Besides the obvious goal to magnify the readership, their path is set towards becoming a powerful organization and publishing house that will give a chance for success, to all of the young aspiring Sci-Fi writers in the region.

AVKF contributor’s engagement in their work is led by few unifying thoughts, and those are: to rival the other fantasy websites, to fortify and to enrich Sci-Fi scene in the Balkan, to get professionally upgraded and to be internationally recognized as a valuable SF Association. The force is strong with this one. *he said it in Vader’s voice

Valinor Club

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One of the most trusted AVKF’s allies is the Valinor Club, founded in May 5. 2015. This elite social club herds cosplayers and Tolkien fanatics under its wings, giving them a place to grow and exchange their ideas. The Valinor Club is responsible for a lot of gatherings and themed cultural events all over the region. Such happenings are followed by a massive crowd of people, sometimes it goes over 3 000 souls. One of notable projects where Valinor is involved in, is Festival of Tolkien Fantasy, which is under the patronage of a much bigger fantastic society called Evenstar. Members of Valinor often show performances on their tour like: dancing, playing instruments, swordfights (no blood thou), shows for kids and showing the arts of cosplay makeup.

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Visit AVKF and Valinor at:

AVKF: https://fantasticnivodic.com

Valinor: http://valinor.club/tag/valinor-srbija

Or visit me: https://www.facebook.com/dronstad1

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Pink Mist

I was not allowed to close my eyes, not even for a second, but the sleep was alluring me into its bliss of darkness. I turned off my bionic arm, just in case I sink into the silence and accidently pull the trigger. There it stood on the ground, resting on the rubble like a dead weight, sleeping more tightly that I ever could, which made me jealous. A small grin followed with a sigh, then I laid my cheek on the scope, pretending I was awake. Old tricks didn’t work like they used to, taking deep breaths that simulated drowning didn’t help, not even taser I hit myself with wasn’t functioning in desired way.

I closed my eyes and everything went pink for a moment, when an angry hit woke me up. Energy buzzed through the arm and it was alive again. My finger danced over the sensitive trigger when my vision, in red grid, took over the sight. Camera shifted in thermal vision, then it started to gain focus on the enemy, approaching towards me from the mist. Technological pattern outlined their form, giving me clear view on the cyborgs that wielded powerful rifles. Aiming program took over the targets, marking their weak points with lasers. Energy surge transformed my sight onto the scope, then the sniper went active.

In twitching bursts the fire rained on them, like comets it pierced their metal skulls where pink haze covered the bleek, watery air, moving around their bodies like smoke of the cigarette. I stopped their attack, but the hail of bullets landed on me. Their grenades exploded around me, ripped my leg off causing the oil to spill in streams, filling the ponds, merge with dirty water, but I could sleep now and dream of the pink mist.

Pink

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