A short drabble about the Dark Ace. Be nice and leave a review.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Lucky.
They used to call him lucky.
Before he betrayed them, back when they were all still friends, they used to call him lucky. And they were right.
Back when he was a Storm Hawk, he was lucky. Everything always seemed to go his way. The bullets always missed him; the daring maneuvers always worked for him; the women always swooned for him. He was lucky, and he loved it. He was the Storm Hawk's good luck charm, their ace in the hole. They always laughed that one day; his luck would finally run out. They were right about that too. But nobody ever took it seriously, because life was just one giant game, and the Storm Hawks could do no wrong.
But luck has a funny way of abandoning you just when you need it most. Just like friends; just like gods.
And suddenly, the game was no longer fun, and the Storm Hawks were no longer laughing. One tragedy led to another, and the Storm Hawks fell apart. Their leader was dead, their luck betrayed them for Cyclonia, and the rest of the Storm Hawks vanished one by one.
And years later, all that remains of the Storm Hawks is one bitter man whose luck is finally running out.
And no matter how hard he tries, he knows that once luck leaves, it never comes back. No matter how much you try, you beg, you plead, it will never return. Just like friends; just like gods.
And luck has found someone else, a new Storm Hawk. And now he's lucky, and can do no wrong, and the Dark Ace is nothing more than a miserable traitor who's almost out of time. And one day, luck is finally going to twist in the knife, and everyone will say how unlucky he was during the funeral. But no one will mourn.
They used to call him lucky.
But now he's all out of luck.
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