Short Story: "The Pacifist" #Original

Hiss... hiss...

In the dimly lit hangar, only the sound of exhaust echoed hollowly. My partner had been acting up since last night. It’s a "piece of junk" made in 2028, and if I could just accept that, how much easier it would be. But according to the AI predictions, "they" are coming again tonight. If I don't fix it by then, there will be no tomorrow.

History has always forced a choice between "negotiation" or "fistfights." In the end, humanity chose the latter. Dialogue, mutual understanding, and even the essence-grasping that was a trend for a while—none of it meant anything. No, perhaps it only proved that the old saying "might makes right" was a more universal and cruel truth.

"Damn it... I really can't figure out the cause. Shiranui, what do you think?"

I knelt down, placing my hands on the oil-slicked floor, and asked the repair humanoid, "Shiranui." The white light of the lamps shone coldly on Shiranui's metal frame.

"The overall output is dropping. I suspect an abnormality in the control program. If you give me another five hours, I believe I can repair it."

"Looks like it'll be just in time... Alright, Shiranui, I'll leave the rest to you."

"Understood, acknowledged."

Shiranui used its dexterous fingertips to bundle the cables and slipped into the chest panel of the suit.

About 100 years ago, there was a Prime Minister who kept pressing the "growth button" over and over again. Expanding exports of defense equipment certainly grew the Japanese industry. Japanese-made naval vessels, missiles, and drones were adopted by Asian countries, and domestic companies pushed forward with technological innovation centered on military demand.

From "a country that cannot build weapons" to "a defense supplier with technical prowess." And it didn't take long before the label of "conflict weapon supplier" was attached.

Japanese-made weapons were used in conflict zones, sparking international criticism. Eventually, the future of being attacked by the very weapons we created became a reality.

The former Tokyo, now turned into a massive ruin.
The wind blowing through the gaps in the collapsed skyscrapers rolled debris, making a dry sound. The sunset was murky red-black, and the sky was clouded with smoke and ash.

"What is peace...?"

I stood on a pile of rubble and muttered as I looked down at the city that once was. Could I have stopped this before it happened? That question pierced my chest.

In the distance, black shadows stirred.
It was a swarm of combat-type humanoids.

"Earlier than expected..."

The repairs weren't finished. But they wouldn't wait. I squeezed my body into the armor suit. The smell of sweat, blood, and oil stung my nose. When I pressed the power switch, a low vibration traveled up my spine. It looked like it would move somehow.

"I'm a pacifist, you know..."

"Ken-san, that's funny. You are definitely one of Japan's top runners," my partner replied with a hint of irony.

"You can't survive unless you fight. That's what it comes down to, right?"

"Is that the essence of life?"

"No, it's reality."

The sound of a missile impact roared in the distance.
The ground shook, and dust swirled up. Sweat seeped into the hand gripping the control stick. I slowly stepped forward.

End

(1160 characters in the main text)

Afterword

This is science fiction. Everything that appears is a product of imagination. I simply turned the universal question of 'what is peace?' into a story.

#ShortStory
#Discussion
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#Dialogue
#MightMakesRight
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