Authors Notes: Hello guys and gals! Galm One here! Welcome to The Razgriz Ace! I'm back from a very long excruciating hiatus. Sorry, I'm still going through some intense writers block and even debating on keeping this story up or simply delete it. So please, tell me how I am doing! What do I need to improve on? How do you guys like the story so far? I need all the support I can get. Just so you are aware: this is strictly an M-rated fic with adult themes so please read with caution. Hopefully new chapters will be here soon. The first few chapters are under serious revisions. Don't forget to Read and Review, and Enjoy the longer version of Chapter 1!

Chapter 1: Cyrus Antonio Velez

This shouldn't be happening. It just couldn't be. Fear, held its firm grip at the pit of my stomach as I watched in absolute horror of what was unfolding before my very eyes. From the southwest of my current location: dawned an intensifying white light, bright enough to mistake it for another sun. Although, I knew better; I just could not tear my gaze away from it. I am completely enticed by its destructive power. After a few seconds, the light dimmed ever so slightly to reveal the ever-growing fiery mushrooms sprouting upwards in the distance. 'No! NO! NOOO!' A Nuclear detonation near the Sterins Castle. The Belkan's nuked themselves...? Those people... I can't believe this happening! Not one but several of them at once. The vast and luscious evergreen of a once peaceful mountainous valley, now overtaken by the toxic grey blizzard of ash, showering onto the now the lifeless landscape. I just couldn't wrap my thoughts around the idea, it made no sense to me at all. How did it come to this? Is this Belka's solution to ending the war? Mass destruction? The very thought of so many innocent lives taken needlessly from this unnecessary catastrophe plagued my very being and ultimately my stomach. Small audible growls broke through the surface of my mid section as it leaped and clenched painfully within me in angry protests.

Threatening to spill all the undigested contents of whatever remains of my lunch I had earlier. Through clenched teeth a weak groan escaped my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could in response to the overwhelming feeling of becoming sick. However, before I could further my thoughts on the ongoing nausea, it were suddenly interrupted by intensely violent shake of the fighter. 'What the hell-?' It happened in mere seconds! The sheer force of the shockwave met by a thunderous boom that came with it, heavily shook the Eagle's metallic frame causing the aircraft to groan and creak under strain which immediately drew my attention from the acute bouts of nausea and back to my surroundings.

Suddenly, the familiar whirring sound of the engines shrilling loudly in my ears, I'd long since grown accustomed to over the past few months went completely silent. Knowing me? I didn't bother to even take notice...well, not at first. A sudden shift in gravity told me otherwise and I was in for a very rude awakening. The fighter suddenly let out another loud elongated groan and jolt heavily to the left into uncontrollable free-falling dive. At that moment my instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive. My heavily gloved fingers instantly wrapped around the flight stick; confirming my hold on it by tightening my grip and then pulled the stick with all my might towards me in attempt to raise the fighter's nose to somewhat delay the fall. My attempts were nearly futile but I refused to give up!

"Come on ol' girl, we can't let it end like this..." I'd muttered through clenched teeth and once again pulled the stick to try and level the fighter.

Half of my attention was on the altimeter while the other half on the horizon above me, the needle on the altimeter continued to spin backwards in an haste. Currently, I'm at fourteen-thousand feet and rapidly declining, I need to act fast now or I will witness my early grave. The rhythmic pounding of my overworking heart deafen my senses momentarily. Everything: even the air felt wrong. Eerily enough, time seemed to slow down only leaving me with the sounds of my quicken breathing and rushing air outside the cockpit. Tiny beads of the salty moisture formed and slowly slid its way down my forehead before pausing at the end of my brow; swallowing heavily although my mouth was dry as thoughts about my ultimate fiery death plauged my mind.

For the first time in my life; I felt like this would be the end me. My final days on this planet. The defeat of the "Demon Lord" of the Roundtables, where I had failed to protect the ones I truly care deeply for: my mother and younger sister. So distracted by my thoughts, a lone traveling droplet manage to sneak its way down the creases of my forehead before moving down into my left eye. 'Ahh! It burns!' A pained hiss escaped my lips from the exertion, forcing me to shut the now irritated eye. I've made unsuccessful attempts to restore the power to the twin turbines of the falling Eagle. 'Damn it!' I hissed out loud. A deep scowling frown in frustration crossed my pale features. The electrical system that was supposingly powering the fighter was completely shut down, or so I thought. Inhaling deeply through my nostrils, my eyelids fell shut; covering the sapphire-ruby that lie beneath them. My furrowed expression deepens in concentration while the raging storm thunders wildly within my chest. Unfortunately, as far as my ego would allow, I am legit terrified. Yeah, I said it! I: Cyrus Velez well known as "Cipher the Demon of The Roundtable" am fearing for my life. For a long moment, I took slow deep breaths to calm my already panicked breathing. 'Just a bit more...' Suddenly, I felt my composure returned; eyes shot open with renewed determination. With a heavy but sharp exhale of breath I'd returned to the emergency restart procedures, silently praying for the engines to return to life although I knew prayers were futile at this point.

The frantic calls from a confused AWACS rung in my headset. Static overwhelmed any chance of clear communication over the radio due to the magnetic interference from the blast. Just barely, was I able to make out what Eagle Eye was saying.

"All…tea…Respond!" Eagle Eye cried out in a panic, fading in and out through the transmission. "Can any...hear me? Respond!"

The undeniable frightening cries and shouts from the other pilots ravaged angrily in my eardrums. At this point I felt...guilt? Each one made me wince considerably, either from the dread that's slowly creeping up inside of me or the fact that I just witnessed an event that will forever change the my view of the world.

"What the hell is going on?!" screeched one of the terrified pilots.

"I can't...belie...it!" another cried out in the broken transmissions.

"What was Belka thinking?" Patrick James Becklette, a young courageous pilot many know him as "PJ" deadpanned. "Hey, Cipher? You alright?"

I did not answer him. All of my focus and attention was on trying to get my engines to come back to life. The fighter only sputtered and groaned in defiance, with another several unsuccessful attempts further infuriated me.

'Come on, damn it! Turn on!' I growled through clenched teeth.

The fighter continued its downward-spiral descent to the grey earth below, I'd heard the repeated calls of my callsign, 'Galm 1' sung in my headset. The fighter still remained unresponsive, but suddenly I'd froze from the horror I just witnessed from the east. The only sounds I could hear is my labored breathing and the pounding of my heart against my eardrums.

"Cipher, are you alright?" Eagle Eye hailed this time. "Respond!"

I couldn't answer him either. I've lost all reason to. Knowing this my final fate: Cipher, an ace who's greatly feared and respected. Sighing in defeat, knowing that I cannot escape the inevitable. Deep unfamiliar presence in the pit of my stomach. What is this? It took me a moment to register what this feeling was. And then I knew. It was regret. Yes. Regret. I shamefully regret everything I'd done to get me to this point. Not only had I fail to end this foolish war but also failing to keep a promise to someone near and dear to me. My mother. She had always hated the idea of me being in the military or anything related to being in service since the incident with my father, but I had to keep her and my younger sister safe even if meant the cost of my own life. I couldn't even begin to think of the idea; I-I just couldn't. The eerie silence filled the atmosphere with uneasiness and despair. How could Belka stoop so low to use such weapons on its own people? The very thought sickens me, my involvement in this war... those people...

XXXXXXX

"Cy..us."

A distant but somewhat faint call of a name entered the endless void of my thoughts. Oddly enough, I was unsure where I am at this point. Am I dead? Or am I simply reliving another nightmare of my grotesque past? So many questions with so little answers and quite frankly: I did not care. My life is already a living hell, and there's no hope for escape. Not one day I go without thinking about the events of the Belkan War. Over and over, I am constantly haunted and mocked by my past; reminding me of my actions, ambitions, and thrill I've once took for granted.

"Cy...rus..."

'Huh? What the-?' All of sudden, I felt oddly cold and empty almost like someone or something is draining the life and energy out of me, and left a hollow mass of myself in its wake. Nausea suddenly hit me yet again but somehow it felt different then normal. This odd cold dread feeling lasted for a few more seconds before vanishing completely leaving me with more questions than answers.

"CYRUS!"

The sudden shout of my name bursted through the protective wall of thoughts as it echoes on the snowy concrete walls of the room, violently ripping me from my exhausted subconscious state of mind. An unmanly squeak erupted from the casams of my throat. Curse my: flight or die instincts! In my brief state of blind panic; I forced all my weight backwards and out the chair; with reasons still unknown to me, I was not entirely aware that I sitting in. The metal legs of the chair screeched and snapped shut as it tipped before clattering to the floor right along with me. Any unused air that was still left in my lungs forcefully shot out of me from the impact of marbled tiled floor, followed by the weight of the chair now resting on my thigh. That sent a definite rude awakening throughout my already weary body. A low groan escaped my lips as the pain began to make its presence known, simultaneously, feeling the icy chill of the floor shooting through the thinness of my old black Galm Team shirt before it traveled up my spine.

"Ugghhh..." I croaked wearily again. Well, not exactly from the mild pain that now strikes the central part of my back, but at the realization that I just thrown myself in a comedic fashion half way across the floor from being startled. It took a moment to regain my senses from my lingering dazed state from the ordeal not to long ago. Trying to hold onto whatever was left of my ego; I'd managed to find enough strength to crack the hood of my left eye open; peeking around only to find a broad masculine figure staring down at me. An obvious large grin pastered on the corners of his thin lips. Great amusement washed across his wrinkled features: Oh, yeah he'd definitely seen that. Here I am: lying on the floor looking like an complete idiot caught with his pants down! Oh, the humility! We both were staring awkwardly at one another in silence, simultaneously; my cheeks began to quickly heat up at the situation I'd just put myself through.

'Nice going Cyrus...' I growled angrily to myself attempting to save what ever was left my ego. A brief huff of air swooshes out the twin holes of my nostrils in defiance as I shut my eyes, trying to play the entire thing off like it never even happened. But who am I kidding? It did happen, and the fact that I get easily startled if I'm not paying attention writes itself. His grin however, never left it's place but only grew wider and with much more intensity before long the upper part of his lip folded upwards in the slightest; finally revealing the pearly whites of his teeth.

'MY pain should not be a source of entertainment!' Glaring at the older male I let out an irritated growl before struggling to sit up. He let out a few light hearty chuckles at my perplexed expressions before bowing his head and slowly shook it while his fingers rubbed the sides of his temple. My irritation only grew at this point as I felt the weight of the chair still resting uncaringly on my thigh. With a roll of my eyes at the situation I put myself in, I took in a large intake of breath through the holes of my nostrils and exhaled loudly out my mouth before pushing the chair off my leg and to the side. I found myself grumbling angrily under my breath about the situation not being at all in the least funny, and used whatever remaining strength I had left to lift myself and into a sitting position on the floor: dazed.

"Well," the male began with another series of chuckles enjoying every last bit of this situation. "I see I'd got your attention?"

A scoff and another roll of my eyes from that snarky comment. I sluggishly rolled myself on to my knees and forearms; muscles twitching and straining against the full weight of my body. Grunting loudly, I once again tapped into any little strength I had by pushing a leg underneath me while the other used the ball of my toes to provide enough power to push and lift myself upwards in one single fluid motion and onto both feet. I rubbed my hands against the fabric of clothing dusting myself from any dirt that remains. Dizziness immediately slammed into me in full force, darkening and cloud my vision to the point where I was almost completely blind which left me momentarily disoriented. After a few moments my vision became crystal clear, but immediately regretted it after.

'Ugh!' Another wave but this time nausea slammed into me with greater intensity than ever before forcing a groan out of me as I felt both my head and stomach doing violent somersaults within me. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'll end up getting sick right here in his office, but I'm sure I am getting close to it. Somehow another low groan managed to escape as I forced my eyes shut tightly in futile attempts of whatever was making me feel ill, this happened for a few seconds more and just like that it was gone. My little sickly expression didn't go unnoticed however, because now twin curious but worried hazel orbs bore into me: the hint of playfulness the once ebbed gracefully across his features now scrunched up into seriousness, a deep frown replacing the warmth of his smile.

It took me a moment to notice that he was staring at me and took that opportunity to ease his fears and worries.

"Colonel," I said with a roll of my eyes upon noticing his frown deepening further. "I'm fine! Just feeling a bit light-headed that's all."

He narrowed the lids of his eyes into an unconvinced glare, and grunt a "Uh-huh" response to prove his point that I was lying about being fine. And he's right! I wasn't fine. Far from it actually; dread begun to creep back into the pit of my stomach as the memories of that little daydream slash nightmare ebbed into my consciousness. A deep frown immediately replaced the false smirk I had as I focused on the dark denim jeans I wore. The older male immediately picked right up on the sudden change of my behavior and hailed my name once more.

"Cyrus?"

A brief questioning grunt rumbled in my throat in response to my name. Our eyes met briefly, I found myself enticed by them in awe on how deeply he's concerned about my wellbeing but he cannot know what I'm currently going though, so I'd forced myself to look away. I found myself panning around the room to find some form of a distraction of the inevitable bombardment of concerned questions, my attention fell on the upside down chair that was on the floor in attempt to ignore his gaze but even that was futile. Even when I reached down to lift the chair back to its upright position the intensity of his stare bore into the back of my head.

Damn this man for being able to read me like an open book! When I didn't answer him, he repeated my name once more with deeper concern. I caved. A loud exhale of breath escaped my lungs and through my lips as I took seat back in the chair. I did my best not stare into the man's aging features, but I could not help myself. Not when he's giving me that look! But I did, studying every fine detail of him. The frosty-white and midnight blue class "B" (ASU) or Armed Service Uniform as we like to call them is a formal attire for service members in the military. All branches have them, though my knowledge wears thin of the uniforms in other branches of service. Only once I had to wear it and that's was for PJ or Patrick James funeral, other than that you'll never catch me wearing it. There are two versions of the formal wear: class A and class B. Class A is where you are required to wear the formal jacket for special events and important ceremonies and Class B is without the jacket specified for training, or other circumstances. For us pilots however, we're lucky enough to wear our flight suits around the base; it's not comfortable but it keeps out the cold for the most part. The Osean Air Denfense Force shares the white and blue coloring with other high officials in the branch, with the navy blue Osean insignia marked on both sleeves of the uniform. His uniform however, is decorated with many ribbons, medals, cords, stars all over while the rank of Colonel sits proudly on his broad shoulders. Not once did I ever get promoted above the rank Captain during the Belkan War and the Usean Continental War, I'd refused the honor. Every other normal man would gladly take higher ranks with open arms, but I am not such a man. How can I accept a reward for killing innocents? Either for money or trying to save a country from ultimate destruction by super weapons it doesn't matter nothing can help me ease the pain of killing people in cold blood. Not after what I had done. Enough of that though.

Once more my attention returned back to the now unconvinced male currently towering over the polished golden wood of his desk. His thin lips pursed into a fine line, lines and wrinkles bunched up and edging around the older gentleman's face; hazel green baring down with such intensity it is as if it would burn into my very soul. I begun to feel slightly uncomfortable with the awkward staring between us so I'd made an attempt to divert the sudden spotlight to another topic: easier said then done.

"Did you say something, Colonel?" I asked dryly knowing full well I heard him.

"What is going with you lately," He hailed once more expressing even more concern than before, coating the gruffness of his voice. "You've been acting really strangely since we first arrived to Osea."

My eyes widen at his question. That uncomfortable feeling from earlier returns; only this time it grew in strength and intensity. Absentmindedly, I'd began to shift around nervously in my seat, tiny beads of sweat begun to sprout and moistened my forehead which I quickly wiped off, possibly arousing even more suspicion from the man.

"Nothing," I answered bluntly. "I'm perfectly fine."

The male furrowed his greying thick brows at my response, creating a well defined crease between his brows of his forehead. The high ranked official let out a deep weary sigh before turning around to face away from me and to the large windows that painted the outskirts of the city's many high-rises and skyscrapers not too far from our current location, taking in the beauty of Oured.

"Something's clearly bothering you," He stated calmly, breaking the silence I did not realize were there. "I can see it in your eyes."

"And so I ask you," The Colonel paused as he shift around promptly back to facing me with newly seriousness weaved into the wrinkles and marks of his face. "What's wrong?" He finished with strenuous edging in his voice.

His sudden bitter tone caught me slightly off guard. Usually, he's not like this but when he wants to know what's going on in this mess of mind I have, the Colonel would most likely stop at nothing to pound the answers out of me. Swallowing a bitter reply in retaliation, I refocused my gaze to the navy blue denim jeans I am wearing; refusing to answer him. The older male's stern glare softened, eyes studying every detail of my body and face. The Colonel inhaled deeply his shoulders rising at the motion before falling as he exhaled. Hazel orbs disappeared into the peach shades of his eyelids as he repeat the process. He knows I am not the kind of person to easily crack when it comes to situations like this.

With everything that had happened to me through the course of my life, but can you blame me? Its not like I'm trying to live the life of luxury here! I have an entire country after me for vengeance and the press still searching for the mystery pilot of the Belkan War, and now I am constantly plagued with visions with my own regret; that's something one does not wish to talk so openly about. The oddities I now face? I just cannot bring myself to explain myself to him, and how can I? To blab about my literal suffering of failures and self-loathing of my past? I don't think so.

"And I repeat," I spat out acidly becoming slightly more irritable with this intrusion. "I said: there's nothing wrong."

The male took a seat across from mine, determined to get answers out me one way or another. I'm not sure that I'll like the alternative...

"You're lying," he spat accusingly.

The way he stated it caught me off guard.

"I am not." I growled through gritted teeth.

The all too familiar burning sensation beginning to rise inside me, and it was becoming much difficult to control. He was pushing my buttons but I will not fall for it.

"Yes, you are!" Harken yelled in an outburst of rage. "I don't understand why you're in denial, Cyrus?! When it's obviously apparent that you're bothered by something or someone. But what strikes me as amazing is that you have the audacity to sit here in my office and do nothing but mope around and try to lie to my face!"

"What does it matter to you, anyway," I screamed back with mirrored rage. "You're not my father!"

That little remark did it. For the first time since I've known him, I had never seen Harken's face twist so painfully, I couldn't tell if it was in rage or hurt, but I knew I'd struck a nerve. He didn't say nothing at first but rage is clearly present on the many crevices of his features. His eyes told a different story though. Harken's fridged glare bore with such intensity and bitterness that it even rivals my own which made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Mmm." Was all that he said, which also caught me off guard. Uneasiness begun to creep up in the lower depths of my stomach. I don't like where this is going... I continued to watch any signs of predictability, but at this point it's damn near impossible!

"...Well," The Colo. The way he said it caught me off guard, I knew he was pissed but what I didn't know that he was this upset. " You're right about one thing."

"What?!" I countered with false bravado.

"I'm not your father," Harken stated dryly and continued. "Don't forget I was the one who trained you so let's pretend that little half-assed remark didn't just fly out your mouth." Harken growled as he took a seat in his oversized leather chair.

This high strung usually good-natured firebrand commander is: Raymond James Harken. An aging war veteran that had once held command of Valais Air Force Base in Ustio which eventually becoming a swarming bee hive of foreign mercenaries from many different nations. Honestly, I am quite surprised he didn't retire from the military yet. Most would have retired after surviving wave after wave of assault is by enemy forces. Not him though. Harken had always loved the battlefield until it would eventually claim him. I knew Harken for long while now, actually, going back to my childhood years. He's like another father to me and I am glad to see his face again. He now works for intelligence for the Osean Air Defense Force. For reasons still unknown to me he seemed so sure on the way here that something is brewing in the air. Probably the reason he had summoned me almost twenty minutes neither of us had spoken. Only the awkward silence that filled the void of the after math of our argument perhaps I didn't strike a nerve but something else? No matter, it was a thing of the past now, but I couldn't stand this uncomfortable silence. I need to understand the purpose of of why he brought me here to Osea. It took a great deal of effort on his part to find me. So now its time for an explanation.

"Why'd you bring me here, Colonel." I asked bitterly. Immediately regretting my tone after the argument we just had. He shot me an unreadable glare that sent chills down my spine. "I know there's some form of a reason you brought me all the way out here."

Harken exhaled sharply in frustration still bothered by our heated argument, his lean fingers wrapped around the arms of darkened-leather of the office chair, and rose from his seat. He tugged the chair from under the oak-plastered desk not to far from the table I seated at, and pulled the chair across from where I was. He knows I can be extremely stubborn when it comes to discussing personal matters. "Just like your father" he would always tell me. Sometimes I wonder, if my father had the same trouble. Talking to someone about personal matters that bothers him greatly. Perhaps it runs in the family.

As for Valais Air Force base; the base itself met its fate with vacancy and abandonment after the war had ended. Later being sold as a private airport two years after the Ulysses incident. Fighters and other historical documents dating back to the Belkan War within the base was sent to the Ustian International Aerospace museum. Galm Team also met the same fate like many other squadrons with retirement. Even though Galm's famous legacy fades into history like many famous squadrons before them. The notoriety of its flight lead still thrives till this very day.

"That's because we have need of your service, Cipher," Harken said proudly, skipping my birth name and right to my old callsign which left me completely dumbfounded. The thin lines at the corner of his mouth perked up again and then stretched into a wide grin. "You are the only one who has the necessary skills and experience to end this before it begins."

"Cipher." It has been many years since I've heard that name. The momentary awe soon vanished as the memories of my time of being the "Demon of the Skies" washed over me again like an overflowing dam. Sounds of metallic groans of protest as my fighter would dance around in flawless maneuvers that no pilot could ever preform. A part of me loved and missed the death I brought to fields of combat. Oh, how much I enjoy the panicked screams of unwary pilots I shot down never ceased to amaze me. The moment I have them locked in my sights I- What am I saying?! Taking a life away is not something a normal person would be proud of. I am torn between two sides. One: that likes the death and destruction and the other regrets. Honestly, I don't have a clue on why I feel this way but I just do. Its just an endless cycle for me. The death of someone else is like a personal trophy to me and I hate it.

I slowly shook my head disapproval. I did not want to want to hear that cursed name again. It hurts to even process the idea me being that uncontrollable ruthless being, and yet it still plagues me. The death I caused so many years ago I-

"I am not 'Cipher' anymore." I said interrupting my own thoughts. Guilt slowly edged its way at the pit of my stomach once again. "Not after the things I have done."

The Colonel's sly grin vanished the moment those words left my mouth. His features immediately stretched into a disapproving frown.

"Would you please stop with your self-loathing?!" Harken said with a irritated groan. "What Belka did has nothing to do with you Cyrus!"

I could not believe what I am hearing."Has nothing to do with me?" I growled, mimicking Harken's tone. "It DOES have something to do with me!"

"Every single fighter I shot down was my doing! The rapid advancement of the Allied Forces was MY doing! The nuclear attacks were MY DOING! I influenced the entire war! ME! No one else! This is burden I forced onto myself and now have to live with Harken!" I screamed out in rage not realizing I was standing from my seat.

Harken furrowed his brows, anger returning in his glare. His features had this iciness you would never find on any man his age.

"I know that, Cyrus." He growled lowly. "You forget, I was there."

"No," I shot back returning the glare."You just don't understand the constant mental battle I have with myself every fucking day! Its tearing me apart!"

Harken features twisted painfully, as if my words had wounded him physically. He sighed as he moved his left hand over his face rubbing the temples of his head.

"Cyrus," He spoke softly."Look, I do apologize if I struck the wrong cord it was unworthy of me."

The burning sensation within me slowly began to dissipate. I didn't know what to make of his sudden apology. I could only stare at him, all words that may formed in me vanished.

"What I am trying to get you see Cyrus," Harken paused as he shifted in the leather seat. "Is that you shouldn't dwell on the past like that. It would only-"

I hung my head and slowly shook it in disbelief. That was not the only thing that was bothering me.

"It's not only that." I snapped, quickly cutting him off. "Look at me Harken! Take a real good look at me?"

Harken did what I have told of him. His eyes trailed over the new changes to my body. A slight muscular build showered over my finely thin frame. Creamy tan skin once was ragged and rough, now smooth and soft to that of a newborn child. Even the streaks of gray that started to show my age instantly disappeared. It was replaced by the shiny ebony that showered over my short layered hair. The sudden return of my youth is unexplained. I couldn't understand why it happened. It's as if someone or something wants me to change in my life. For better or for worse, my appearance of twenty-three year old is now a part of me and there's nothing I could do about it.

Harken sighed heavily. Now he understood my sudden distress. "I understand this new 'change' is difficult for you to grasp, Cyrus." He said with reassurance in his voice. "It had its moments for me too, however you can use this as an advantage."

Seriousness immediately left the old male's battle-worn features, the corners of his mouth turned upwards in the slightest. forming warmness of his smile. A touch of hope faintly bloomed inside meI found myself rather fond of his seeing Harken's smiling face. It brought some form a hope that things would get better in the near future.

"But how does this relate to me exactly?" I asked.

"All you need to know is that you're the only pilot that is experienced enough to handle this situation." He continued as he lift himself from his leather seat and slowly moved to the black file cabinet in the corner.

Furrowing my brows, I frowned at his answer. He was completely avoiding my question and he knows it.

"That did not answer my previous question, Sir." I pointed out.

Harken aggressively ran his fingers through the thickness of his hair and trudged off to the other side of the room muttering to himself about my stubbornness. "To answer your question, I brought you here because of Belka's current military campaign which has shown suspicious activity over the past several years since their defeat during the previous war," Harken explained through gritted teeth. "I believe that Belka is planning a plot against Osea and former allied forces."

Paranoid as always. I rolled my eyes the moment he mentioned Belka was planning another revenge plot. This is something not really new to me.

"Can you tell me something that I didn't know already?" I said sarcastically.

Harken rolled his eyes at that remark and said, "I would take this seriously if I were you."

Huffing loudly in disbelief as I fold my arms against my chest. What he is telling me sounds completely ridiculous. "Harken, this is insane. Belka would not be that crazy stupid to attempt another world war," I respond. "They don't even have enough resources to maintain a proper war effort."

Those words infuriated him. He slammed the folder onto the table, palms flat as he leaned into the table. "Cyrus, this is serious!"

"What's the big deal, Harken?!" I shot back, annoyed with him for being so paranoid. "The Belkan's could never win another war anyway!"

Harken huffed sharply. "That's where you are wrong Cyrus." He paused for a second before adding, "Belka lost the previous war not because they failed at expanding its borders. But having their special weapon used against them." He finished as he took a seat in the chair he was sitting previously.

Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, an eyebrow raised after hearing that last sentence. What? "Excuse me?" I asked, thinking I missed that last part.

Harken's expression said it all. That frown he always does when he didn't want to tell me something he knew I did not care to hear.

"You don't realize that you're in grave danger." Harken continued. "That's why I spent my time searching for you."

What does that suppose to mean? Studying him carefully, trying to find the answers hidden within his expression but I found nothing.

"What?!" I asked abruptly. "What are trying to say, Harken?"

Harken said nothing more. He averts his gaze from mine, trying to prevent me from reading into his expression like a book. Why is he hiding from me? The iciness of my glare visibly made him shuttered from it. He knows something I don't.

"What is it Harken?!" I shouted irritably. "Don't keep me in suspense!"

He still refused to answer. Frustrated, I stood up from my seat and marched towards him. Harken hung his head in shame as his back now facing me. Now fed up with his behavior towards me I grabbed his shoulder roughly and turned him so we're face to face.

"Harken?!"

Harken remained silent, but pushed gently on my shoulder, motioning his hand to the chair behind me. Now seated, he joined me staring into the azure abyss that colored my irises. He furrowed his brow together with a deep frown that wrinkled his features.

"Do you know why the Belkan's are trying so hard to locate you," He spoke softly, his voice almost a whisper making it difficult for me to hear him properly. "And only you?"

Harken's words rung hauntingly in my head. Only me? Wait they've been tracking me? I could only shake my head indicating a "no" in answer.

Harken immediately furrowed the thickness of his brows in disapproval. The aging brown pools suddenly met mines, studying and searching in silent observation; with me returning the gaze. I don't know how long we've been like this, but it felt like an eternity before he said anything more.

"You're their main weapon, Cyrus," He said need for their plans for building their Empire to be successful. This I will explain at a later date." He finished, as he got up to pace around.

Weapon? "W-what?!" I exclaimed. "What do you mean I am their main weapon?"

He ignored my question and slid a pale folder across the table, stopping directly in front of me.

Focusing my attention to the folder it contained documents of Belkan activity in the past several years. Hold on a second...These mostly showed MY military record: both from the war five years ago, and the Belkan war. Wait, hold on. Why would Belka have this? I'd continued my search through the pile of photos and military documents, one of them however, caught my eye.

It showed: Pixy and I having our arms around each other in celebration standing in front of my blue F-15C Eagle in the background. I remember. This photo was taken shortly after Directus was liberated. Studying the black and white photo in my hands I finally understood what Harken was talking about. It's me without the helmet on. Unknowingly exposing the mysterious identity of Cipher. The very thing I did not want the world to know.

How in living hell did they obtain photographs of me? These photos were supposed to be classified or destroyed by the Ustian government.

Another photo of me caught my sight. I felt a lump began to form in my throat as I continued to stare at the picture. It was me from the war five years ago. It clearly showed me relaxing on the left-wing of the parked sky blue F-22 raptor. My back against the body of the fighter presenting the proud blue and white Ribbon insignia in the center of the left V-shaped rudders. Judging by the date and time of this photo was taken it was shortly after my return from the escort mission of the two deflecting passenger planes.

"Cyrus, I need you to return to Heierlark Air Force Base." Harken said calmly, interrupting my thoughts, causing me to stare at him in disbelief.

"But, Sir I-" I began, but he quickly interrupted me.

"No 'buts' Cyrus, this is important. We need you to go back to Heielark and pose as a "nugget," he paused when he noticed the bewildered expression on my face. "You don't have to worry about anyone recognizing you due to your current state. Unless you give hints of who you really are."

I crossed my arms and breathed out in a short huff. "And how am I supposed to do that?!"

Harken rolled his eyes at that question and replied, "It's really simple Cyrus; do not reveal anything to anyone about your past. Is that Understood?"

Rolling my eyes, I began mumbling under my breath about this plan not going to work. This is absolutely ridiculous. Leaning back in my chair and giving him an irritated frown.

Harken let out a short exhale at my childish behavior before a grin slowly crept its way up his features.

"Aww. Is my poor little Ace pouting? That's so adorable, maybe I should go grab a blanket and warm milk for you." He teased.

"I am not pouting," I growled lowly. "And stop talking to me like I'm a child."

Harken ignored my comment and continued with his tease.

"Aww, is my poor little Cipher upset?" Harken continued his baby talk, hands clasped together at his side." I think someone needs a little comfort."

Just as he said that Harken moved to where I am seated and tried to hug me. I kept pushing him away as he wrapped his muscled arms around my frame. Finally, he stopped his attempts to hug me then burst into a fit of laughter absolutely enjoying the annoyed expression on my face.

"That's not funny," I snarled angrily, deepening the glare as he laughed.

Harken shook head, still laughing while holding his sides. "It's priceless."

After a few minutes of his hysterical laughter, he finally manages to calm himself down. I remained seated, my arms folded across my broad chest; all while staring at him as if he had grown a second head. The teasing isn't necessary, regarding how important he claims this mission is for the country.

"Gee, I didn't know teasing was apart of the mission details." I grumbled sarcastically, more to myself than to Harken. Unfortunately for me, it was loud enough for him he catch what I had said.

Periodic chuckles escaped him as he tried to speak. "No, seriously..."

Scoffing loudly and a roll of my eyes, "No, no. Say no more; I'll make sure I am careful not to open my big mouth, Harken." I replied, once again letting the sarcasm flow in my tone, however, that didn't go unnoticed by him. The Colonel's warm joyous smile dissipates and met with a disapproving scowl.

"I'm being serious," Harken glared, once again caught me off guard at the sudden change of his attitude."Do NOT reveal anything to anyone. Even if you had know them in the past." He warns, waving his finger in my direction to empathize his point.

"Yeah, sure."

Growing irritable of this conversation, I found enough strength to lift myself up from my seat and immediately regret that decision. An audible pop of my knee nearly forced me to double over the chair I was once seated in, causing me to loudly cry out in pain when it traveled up my right leg. 'Ughh, that hurts...' Luckily, all my senses hadn't left me; for I was aware enough to not apply my entire weight on the chair less I risk it falling again than I'll never hear the end of it.

As humorous as it might of seemed, the former Base Commander took this moment as opportunity. "That includes Rico..." he added nonchalantly, gaze focused on the papers in front of him.

"I heard you, Harken!" I spat out angrily, fueled by the pain of my locked up leg and annoyance with him taking this as an opportunity. "You don't need to keep reminding me!"

Satisfied with my irritated answer, he smiled as took the folder from the table. "Good, I'm counting on you, Cyrus." He said as he began to collect the scattered photos on the table. "I would also advise you to start stretching every morning after you get up, so something like that will not happen again."

I paused my rubbing as my eyes snapped to him and dawned my most frightening glare at that last remark. Boy! If looks could kill, half the city's population would've been wiped out, and no. I'm not being optimistic.

"Now come on," The Colonel ushered on completely ignoring my "glares of death". "Someone you may have known in the past is waiting for you. He'll bring you to Aptio International Airport to an awaiting CF-140 that leaves for Heielark base."

I wonder who that could possibly be? Well, I guess I'm going have to find out. Looks like I'm being dragged into another war...again; for the third time.

"And um, Cyrus?" Harken called out to me, stopping me dead in my tracks. I'd turned around to peek through the doorway, only to have my head present to him. "Dumb it down a bit while you're there."

Oh, he just had to go there! I huffed loudly making sure he heard it as I retreated down the hallway. Heading towards the main doors of the building.

"'Dumb it down' Ha!" I grumbled under my breath, as I shook my head with utter absurdity as I made my way through the doors. "We'll see about that."