Inspiration: Various Warhorns/ Valhalla Calling by Miracle of Sound
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my scant thirty years on this Earth, it’s that music is more than just a passion for humanity. It’s a Calling.
From our earliest ancestors, from the moment we learned to pull leather taught over bone frames and slap it with rudimentary mallets made of bone or stone, the echoing cry of drums have driven humanity forward, step by step, through the cultivation of fire, the tides of war, the stormiest of seas, and the rise of civilization as we know it. Without music, humanity would be lost, as we would have ripped out a very part of our being that has been so intrinsic to our very identity.
From birth, we hear the drums. They speak directly from our very hearts, the steady tempo of a heart beat, the background music of our very existence. If you slow your breathing, quiet your mind, and focus inwards, you can feel the bass roar from your core, each thudding, pounding beat drumming out the very lifeblood of your existence.
Music is everything. Music is our soul. Music is Life, unfiltered and unapologetic.
Music is what leads me to quite possibly my doom, or perhaps our salvation. Of which I am unsure, and it is far too early to tell. All I know for sure is that the Drums, the Drums are Calling me, urging me to rise and strike with that very life force that surges within all of Humanity.
Can you say the same?
—-
It was a fairly normal day, before the Calling. I was driving home from work, some thankless work with pittances for pay, weary and tired, the drums in my soul low and slow from the endless grindstone of manual labor. I had lit a cigarette, I remember, and was letting the nicotine wash through my veins, altering the beat so that I could feel the gentle pulse rise with each breath, reminding me that I was alive, another day at it’s end, and that I was awarded with rest for my labors.
“-alling for action! For daring! For the boldest amongst your kind!” The radio blabbed, making me grumble under my breath at the incessant noise interrupting my music. The car, and its radio, was old, and wasn’t capable of synching up to my phone so that I could just listen to music without advertisements. Sometimes I wonder if buying that beaten, worn vehicle was a thing of happenstance or a Divine intervention, some kind of plan for the greater powers-that-be. I’m not sure I’ll ever get to know one way or another.
I took another drag on the cigarette, huffing the smoke out my nostrils like a dragon of legend as I let the perky, yet slightly annoying voice of the ads announcer wash over me. “That’s right, dear listeners! Humanity’s uplifting is at hand, and you are being Called! Even now, our operators are standing by to listen for any who volunteer to take up arms for the chance to bring Humanity amongst the stars! All you need to do is say yes!”
I blink, the drum in my chest pounding a bit harder in confusion at what I just heard. No way that was right. I look around, and pull my car over on the backroad, settling on the shoulder even as I flick my ashes out the window, staring at my radio as I sit up from my slouch, frowning before I change the dial on my radio, swapping to another channel.
“Rejoice! You have the chance to fight-” Click, another channel “-for glory!” Click. “For honor!” Click. “For your species!” Click. “For power!” One last click, my fingers shaking as my eyes grow wide, cigarette left forgotten between the fingers of my other hand.
The voice grows ever more animated, excited to be explaining something that makes my heart sing with a song that our Ancestors have been playing from time ethereal. “Humanity is seen as grand warriors across the stars, and the Grand Council has seen your trials and tribulations. Rejoice, Humanity, for we hear you and feel the Human spirit! A competition held every thousand years is at hand, and we ask of you, would you fight for the right to be uplifted? To bring your species into a new golden age? The hour is at hand, and the Solaris Arena awaits!”
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My heart soars as my pulse quickens, hand shaking at the thought. This… this had to be a dream. The sort of thing that one would think up in a daydream while the drudgery of modern life turned on. Right?
“Operators are still standing by, all we need is your vocal acceptance and we will facilitate your transportation to the Arena for your debriefing! Political dignitaries are standing by for introductions after your Warriors have been selected. All you have to do IS! SAY! YES!” A warhorn blows loud and low over the speakers, much higher than the volume the shitty speaker system of my car could possibly produce, and I feel it pulsing through my veins.
The Drums. The Drums are pounding in the deep, in my soul, and a fire ignites itself in my veins… and in my hand, making me curse as I shake out my slightly burnt fingers, the lit cigarette bouncing away from my car out the window as I’m startled from the heat returning my attention to reality.
The question is there, and I return both hands to the wheel of my car, staring blankly at the empty road ahead of me. All you need to do is say Yes? A chance to Fight again? Not just for God and Country… but for all of Humanity?
It sounds too good to be true.
But the Drums in my heart urge me to say yes, even as I look down at my left leg, considering the stump I see before looking behind at the prosthetic in the back, blinking quietly before turning my head to stare at the radio.
It’s fallen silent. Completely silent. But the light from it shows it’s still powered. A breathless moment, waiting for a confirmation.
All I can hear are the Drums.
“... Yes.” The simple word slips from dried lips, which I hasten to wetten as I sit up, my hand coming off the wheel and turning off my car. “Yes.”
“EXCELLENT!”
The voice from the radio booms from all around me as a massive spotlight suddenly lights up my car, making me blink in shock.
“YOU HEARD IT HERE FOLKS, ANOTHER WARRIOR STANDING UP FOR HIS PEOPLE, LET’S GIVE HIM A BIG WELCOME TO THE GREATER GALACTIC COMMUNITY! FROM THE SWIRLING SANDS OF PROXIMA CENTAURI ALL THE WAY TO CANIS MAJOR, HUMANITY HAS! SAID! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!”
Roaring applause floods my hearing as my eyes widen, shocked as my hands start to glimmer like little stars are forming on my skin. “Standby for Transition, Pilot Foxtrot-One engaged in Warp Field.” A new voice, cool, collected, and distinctly female washes over me as the applause continues, and my hands come off the steering wheel so I can try to examine the lights dancing across my skin.
“Warp locked, Transition Hole opened. Phase shift begins in three… two… one…”
—
Several hours later, a car was reported ‘abandoned’ on the backroads of King’s County, California. An older model, it was noted for being rather dinged up, and its license plate had Veteran Tags attached to it. A prosthetic leg was seen in the back when inspected by the Sheriffs that went out to look at it, and running the tags soon clued them into what had happened and why this car was abandoned.
This car belonged to Lt. Sigmund “Danger” Rainier. Retired US Pilot, widower, warrior…
And the first of Humanities Mech Warriors.
-End-
“The most persistent sound which reverberates through man’s history is the beat of war drums.” - Arthur Kestler