the hangar

I didn’t see the way we were killed.
maybe it was the censors
the borg review protocol, hiding the mess on screen
or perhaps, this is what we’ve become
watchers in an ops room
post-transformation instead of termination
the last I saw was our starship – still docked, cold and immobile
the vast, almost limitless mecha hangar wasn’t really a safety zone
outside, we knew the city was in ruins, following the invasion
we were merely waiting it out
we were merely waiting for the breach
“they are here,” a voice had said.
then i saw it swimming in zero gravity
the red dragon
high-tech robotics. advanced. fluid.
three times the length of our ship.
it didn’t breathe fire
it didn’t fire
there could’ve been white nanotech intrusions into our bodies
there could’ve been hacking codes hijacking our consciousness grids
we could’ve completely eluded them, considering our current state, alive and re-watching the entry of dragons into the hangar
maybe the city outside is still intact
maybe we were remote viewing a menace happening in another solar system
maybe it was the dragons who saved our world from something bigger and unseen
I cannot determine anything
something about ultraviolet
something about the feeling inside
this sense of a distant future, a prophecy, a possibility
something about that smooth beautiful swerve
the gliding of massive dragon(s) in space
red, mythical, mechanised, majestic

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