The warrior knew this was going to be his last battle. His full bodied, metallic power suit glistened with the light of the three red sun's reflection. His thermal vision scanned for all threats detected in the barren wasteland that used to be his hometown. His eyes burned a bright red when in this mode. It hurt his, what wasn't machine, heart to know that everything he had ever known is gone. All those he loved, dead. He can remember her face, but 1200 years and multiple reconfigurations has made him forget her name. He hates himself for this. He hates the monsters that did this to his planet even more.
A sudden boom in the distance, dust rising high into the air almost blacking out the sun. Targets appear on his HUD -- heads up display -- 100, 150. Too many for a simple soldier to keep track of. But he wasn't simple. He was a prototype super soldier that had lay dormant until a sandstorm had awakened his slumber. Humans are no more. The cataclysm wiped them all out during his period suspended animation in the Absolute Zero capsule. He no longer knows his original purpose or mission. All he knows is that he is a killing machine, therefore all that stand in front of him are the enemy and must be dealt with.
The beasts with their gnashing teeth and bone like protrusions race towards him, hungry for their next meal. The wind blows, whipping his long spike like "hair" antennae behind him. He presses a button on his wrist and a blade protrudes out from behind his wrist extending to his elbow. He does the same with the other. Unconventional enemies call for unconventional weapons. He leaps as they near him. The first target is easy, his blade cut through the beasts skull like butter. The next's head flies away from the body. In a cross sweep, three more lose there lives. He pivots the blades to face forward now as he impales two more under their chins, tossing their bodies at the other attackers. His energy reserves flash onto his HUD, 75% remaining. Enough to deal with these foes. At that moment of distraction, a legion of the demons tackle him. Feeling their teeth and claws start to break through his armor and skin, he decides to do something drastic. He engages the powerthrusters to full power, throwing the beasts off of him and launching himself in the sky. He looks down to see his foes, some dead, some wounded, many still wanting nothing more than him to die.
He presses his palms together and an electrical charge starts to build. Streaks of blue and red criss cross across his open palms as he slowly spreads them apart. An orb of pure destructive energy is now under his control. He scans a final time at all targets and marks them for death. He releases the energy and it splits of into concentrated beams heading directly for their intended target. 30% power remaining. Before he could let out a sigh of relief, a huge threat was detected directly below him. A sand worm. Biggest he has ever seen. He never intended to walk away from this so he free falls directly at the gaping maw of the gargauntuan, ferocious, monstrosity. He scans for all weak point but finds one. Its heart.
When he enters its esophagus, he slams his blades into its sides to slow his decent. The worm roars in pain at this action. He sees a pit of yellow fluid which is clearly an acid protecting the heart. He see no other way of dealing with it so he dives right in. His suit yells warnings and alerts, but he pays them no attention, he just wants to kill the things that were responsible for humanities extinction with what little life he has left. 15% power remaining. He see the heart and jabs both of his blades into it. He prys a hole open wide enough to but a nuclear grenade inside.
He unclips one from his belt and shoves it in hard enough that it will stay. 10%. He sees an edge of the beast that must lead to the out skin. He claws furiously at it. 9%. He attacks do nothing. 8%. The acid is beginning to eat through his skin, his eyes barely even work anymore. 7%. With uses what energy he has to power his thrusters to kick the damaged area. Success, the acid starts to drain along with him. 2%. He lands on the hard ground. Picking himself up, he looks at the demon ahead of him and smiles. 1%. The nuclear blast doesn't move him, but destroys all life that would have been around him. He throws his fist into the air in pure joy out of his victory over the demons who destroyed this planet. 0%.
No one will remember the struggle on this day, because they're are none to remember. The only thing left is a shell of a man born and crafted to do nothing but fight. This planet was abandoned long ago. Not even on galactic charts anymore. No explorers from other races will see him or even know his existence. Everything ends. Nothing will be remembered forever. The impacts one leaves on his world will mean nothing in time. Nothing is eternal.
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Please keep it professional, because I don't know what he might do.