εγλ 0007, 0008, 0009, 0010
Back then... those years... Dammit. My life meant somethin'.
I had so much to fuckin' live for. That damn Shera, Barret, the others... My friends. The airship. The World Regenesis Organization. Hell, we saved the planet how many times now? I was a god damn hero.
But none of that shit was ever enough. Ever since I was a kid, I've been dreamin' about becoming the first man in space. My dream came true a few years back, but I needed to go back. I needed to go back into space and explore. And now I've finally fuckin' made it.
Then the ship's communication system busted, but I thought "Hell, someone'll fix that!"
I thought it was just a small error, somethin' someone could easily fix through the computer servers back home. But then there were days of silence - nothin' but static comin' from the radio. I think that's when reality hit me smack in the face. Somethin' must've been damaged outside.
I had finally made it - floating idle above the Planet's atmosphere. All by myself. The irony.
At first, I tried to just ignore the shit situation I was in. For weeks I kept to schedule, no communication with anyone below on solid ground. But still, I kept doing the routine ship maintenance, eatin', workin' out, starin' off into space tryin' to ignore the likelihood that I was gonna die up here.
I just kept tellin' myself "one more day". Sayin' it out loud to myself every so often, kept me from losing my fuckin' sanity. A bit. But what I didn't know was that my team, the others, had already given up hope on me. How could they even begin to look for me? I had built the first and only ship that made it to fuckin' space. There was no way for them to come for me. They left me up here for dead.
But I wasn't fuckin' dead yet, assholes. I was alive... alive and well.
Left to rot to pieces up here in zero gravity.