Take 3:

#microfiction

They brought the prisoner before the subterranean philosopher-king. His face was blank and expressionless; his features androgynous. Inside his augmented battle armor he was a ferocious sight. Outside he resembled nothing so much as an overlarge baby at the age before they develop control of their facial muscles. Uro, the king, had one of his soldiers drag in the faceplate of the armored suit to use as a translator, but stripped of all the semantic enhancement modules. The man's internal neuroboosters had been disabled as well. He could barely stand up without them.

"So, my honorable enemy, you stand before me, a caught by both your own chains and mine. You were powerful on the surface but now you are a prisoner in my world. Have you anything to say in your defense?"

The man looked around the room and blinked myopically once or twice. He seemed to be weighing up a deep thought, or maybe carefully phrasing his defiance. "I hafta pee," he said.

"You can not say I am an unfair ruler. Someone get this man a urinal so we can continue the interrogation. Your kind, sir, has embarked upon a course of extermination of my kind, at which you have been fairly successful. You have weapons we can not match, armor we can not breach, and faster reflexes than any human without augmentation can achieve. This is our first chance to interrogate one of our assailants and I assure you, we are agog to know why you have set yourselves upon this genocide."

Again the myopic blinks. "Need suit to think."

"You are never getting in that suit again. You are too dangerous in it. It is being destroyed as we speak. Long have we underneathers wanted to know the motivations of the surface dwellers. When the rift occurred between our peoples many years ago, we were still fundamentally respectful, even friendly toward each other. Then, a few months ago, your kind set out to eliminate my kind. Why was that, sir? Why?"

"I dunno. When food?"

He looked at the plastic food containers, tracing their smoothness, almost a caress. How long had he kept them? Ten years, at least. They weren't valuable, far from it; he remembered buying them at the dollar store. Now, here he was, a decade later, in a new place with no room to spare. What to keep? He touched the lids one last time, then quickly shoved them into the bin. "I can't store my past," he thought, "I need to start fresh."

#Microfiction #aiart #vss

#microfiction

The rebel leader watched the victory celebrations.
The war had been a murderous act of attrition.
Billionaires were gone.
Millionaires decimated.
In disguise they had wandered the streets, talking to ordinary people, and had made their selections.
Several pairs, male, female, and others, of all colours were gathered in the room.
Their silence a flimsy thing.
"Now, form your government, and make it a good one."
A single shot to the temple provided the punctuation.
Uproar ensued.

The tributary runs red with discarded verdicts.
Pain writes louder than mercy.

#Ithaxar #Lore #Fantasy #WorldBuilding #WritingCommunity #MicroFiction

"Only? ONLY? I've never been so offended," she snarled. "How do humans think we communicate?"

"You mean, while they #dream, we give them advice?" His eyes widened.

"Of course. Didn't you pay attention in Divine Influence 101?"

"Er..." He reddened. "I must have missed that part."

#MastoPrompt #MicroFiction

The #MastoPrompt for Tuesday 26 May 2026 is:

#hidden

The poem or story can include the prompt word or be about the prompt word.

@ me, if you like, or just include the #MastoPrompt tag (to allow people to follow or filter their feeds), or keep your work to yourself - all the options are good as long as you're writing.

If you're including an image please do include alt-text if you’re able to.

#Writing #SmallPoems #Poetry #Fiction #MicroFiction #SmallStories

Dominic finished work on the most exotic interface he had ever written, one that would allow his story characters to write stories of their own by remotely controlling his laptop. He opened the team's story file, and began talking as if he were on a video call.

_/Ok, gang, I have a prototype of the new interface - who wants to be the first to try it?/_

"We drew straws and Enzo was the winner," Maggie responded.

"CONTESTED winner," Reggie quipped.

_/Enzo - the keyboard is yours/_

"Thank you, Author," Enzo responded, and started typing.

The lights in the team's conference room flickered, followed by some disconcerting music playing over the PA system.

"What the-," Reggie began, looking a little worried.

Enzo looked up with smile.

"That's you?!" Reggie asked indignantly. "Dude, you KNOW I hate scary movies."

"Why else would I pick that for my environment test?" Enzo asked innocently.

Reggie threw a wadded up piece of paper at him.

#MicroFiction #FlashFiction #TootFic