Never thought I would actually write a Neopets fanfiction xD awell... All of the pets that are named in this story are really, look them up in the searchbar-magigger
and to everyone who is in The Weltherrschaft guild... don't attack me... its not like this will ever happen, Aldler wouldn't let it
EURO
The Fall of the Weltherrschaft
the rattling of the plane's engines was so loud that scarcely anything could be heard over the perpetual metallic din. The korbat feared that if they flew too fast the constant quaking and shuddering of the old engine would cause the ancient plane to shake itself apart. It was amazing that these small biplanes were much quieter than the regular military planes the pet in the cock-pit normally used. Even if the korbat did want to fly faster, his surroundings would have prevented it. The impenetrable fog fell all around the plane, blanketing the entire machine in the vapor-like substance.
The korbat's gloved hands carefully held the rusted joystick in forward position, forever pushing the plane onward to try if it could break through the fog bank. His flaming orange hair was hidden under a leather pilot's hat. White fur covered his stern face; black stripes only enhanced his stone expression. The crème colored scarf that he wore was wrapped around his neck once and then tucked neatly into the maroon-brown bomber jacket so that it would not get in his way or his co-pilot's who sat behind him. His navy pants were pleated and then stuffed into the black boots on his feet. Wrapped around his left forearm was the blue band of his organization. The korbat always refused to wear the normal uniforms of the pilots because he knew that if he was shot down by the rebels, the uniform would be a one way ticket to the death house.
The korbat strained his goggle covered eyes to try and see anything, anything at all that would give them a reference point in this eternal sea of grays and whites. He wore a sour expression on his face as nothing became apparent in his blindness, he hated being in this vulnerable position. The radio had been coming in and out for the last half-hour or so adding the sound of cracking static in his right ear to the sound of the engine thundering in his left. The korbat knew eventually this and the feeling of total confusion would drive him mad. Rarely did he get nervous, but rarely did he fly in weather like this.
A small blue grundo sat in the pit behind him feverishly looking over tiny maps to try and figure out where they were. Unlike his superior pilot, the grundo did wear the uniform of his group. The forest green jacket was zipped fully up to protect him from the cold. The same color pants were pleated and tucked neatly into spit-shined brown boots. The same blue band was on his left fore arm also. Every so often his eyes would dart from the maps to a small compass strapped to the dash board. The only thing he could draw was that they were off course, extremely off course.
the two's original mission was simple: fly a spy plane over Mystery island and report what they saw back to Major Siibel. Rumors had been started that the resistance movement had been gathering power on the remote island. But the most simple of missions could be turned disastrous, as this one had, by the forces of nature and her fury. The korbat turned the plane upward to see if he could get above the fog, but the machine creaked in protest and he quickly brought it back to its original position. One thing was for sure, they were definitely over open water, so if the plane gave way their fates were most likely sealed.
There was an ear-splitting ringing as the radio attempted to connect back with head quarters. One of the white korbat's hands was reaching to turn it off when there was a break in the stream of static. "Re... Eag.. One! ...ed ... le .. On! A... you .. ere?" was clouded with the constant cracking, but it was definitely recognizable words. The korbat's hand reared back in surprise, but then flew to adjust the frequency to see if it could be made clearer.
"Yes, we're here!" he shouted in excitement. "We have been flying around in this fog for about an hour and have had no sighting of the land mark you gave us.." there was the muffled sound of someone trying to answer back. "Repeat that Home?" the korbat said "Wha... s.. you ... alt.. ude?" it took him a few seconds to decipher what was said to him. He looked to the dash board of the plane and then cursed loudly. These old planes were not equipped with and altimeter because they were not made for use in harsh fog. The only altimeter they had was the pilot looking over the edge of the plane to see how far down the ground was. For all the korbat knew, they could have less than 100ft of reaction space, which was suicide if anything happened.
"I can not tell" the pilot said loudly. The only answer he got was more cracking. Both pilot and co-pilot strained their ears for live words for the sea of static had once again over powered the radio. Suddenly there was a loud crack, the radio gave one final shriek and died altogether. Time seemed to be suspended as both froze in disbelief that their trusty radio had failed them. The korbat's hands held a death grip on the steering gauge, fear reflected in both of their eyes as their last ray of hope was distinguished like a candle. Now the docile gray fog had become a writing monster, its long arms ready to strike them down at its leisure.
The pilot did not believe his ears, "Home, do you copy?" he screamed into the receiver. His answer was the roar of the plane's metal engine. "It's dead..." the blue grundo stated the obvious, but for all the korbat knew he might have written their epitaph. The white pet's mind was occupied in trying to find possible scenarios in which they might make it out alive. He turned the plane into a sharp dive, despite the engine's creaking and moaning.
The plane fell like a rock from the sky. "Rajrah1" the blue grundo shouted his superior's name in surprise at his sudden action. "Stop! You'll stall the engine!" but Rajrah did not let up, he held the joystick fast as the plane plummeted. The korbat estimated how fast the dark waters were coming up at them from the last altitude that he knew for certain. There was an abrupt break in the fog and the black waters of the ocean yawned up to meet them.
Both pets shrieked in fear as Rajrah pulled back hard on the steering gauge. The plane made a steep curve and narrowly missed diving headlong into the ocean; it was not however sharp enough to clear them fully of the deadly waters. The planes wheels struck the sea causing the air craft to skip over the water. The engine coughed and sputtered as the propeller at the plane's nose started skipping beats and faltering.
"C'mon baby!" the Korbat shouted as he flipped several switches on the dash board and held the control firm in his hand. "Don't fail us now," he pleaded as the spaces between beats on the propeller became increasingly more and more obvious. The plane started sinking, and once again the wheels struck the water causing the air craft to be catapulted into the air. Rajrah struck the dashboard with a curled fist as their luck changed for only and instant, the engine roared back to life and the propeller started spinning normally. The pilot quickly put as much space between him and the ocean as he could; he pointed the plane's nose upward toward the fog that hovered over them like a white sheet.
The plane was gradually going upward when the fog abruptly melted away. Both pets paused for an instant as their minds comprehended that they were finally released from the fog. They quickly turned around to see the fog hovering like a great white fortress hovering behind them. "Rajrah!" the blue grundo shouted, his hand pointing toward something straight ahead of them. Rajrah quickly turned around and his stone expression twisted into one of horror.
The plane was headed straight toward a tree line. Tall trees hundreds of feet tall had suddenly sprung up in front of the air craft dwarfing it with their monstrous size. They had rooted themselves in a plateau of bluish-gray rock that rose above the ocean's limits. In the few instants the two pilots's had, Rajrah realized that this was not a simple island outpost or rocky crag; this was a whole other land mass. This was most defiantly not Mystery Island. Rajrah pulled back hard on the gauge, but it was already too late.
The planes engine coughed as his hurtled headlong into the trees that were blocking its route. The last thing the korbat knew was the plane hitting the tree line, red and white turret of hot pain and being plunged into endless black.