Prologue
Remnants
May 16, 1784
Day 2,732- Corneria City, Corneria_
"Lies," a scratchy, croaky voice.
Blue skies laced the heavens above, the massive expanse broken up with puffy, white clouds. Solar gleamed radiantly, casting a brilliant glow across the sky.
"All…lies."
A single gray particle fluttered in the breeze, looping and swirling through the air.
"Hhhhh…huhhhhh…All lip service…"
A few more dots danced through the sky, freckling the heavens.
"There's nothing now… There's nothing…nothing left…"
Multitudes began to fall now, the sky darkening.
"Nothing, Alex."
The world faded to shades of gray, the bright skies choked to deathly shades of gray by the falling ash. A hostile whipped through the streets, sometimes whispering darkly, other times howling in outrage. Tattered shreds of paper were kicked up, flapping in the fickle breeze. A single piece plastered against a wall, pinned against it, and slid down like a cowering, cornered child. Another slipped through a nearby gaping hole, black as abyss.
Ethan stared blankly forward, not a hint of feeling in his hazel pools. He was a dragon- half vulpine, half serpent. His black hair was messy and cactus-like, his green fur ruffled and unkempt where it showed from his torn bodysuit. An AKS-74u compact assault rifle and a Remington 870 pump-action shotgun were clamped to a weapons rack mounted on his back. His cracked helmet laid discarded beside where he sat, on the charred, bent skeleton of a hovercar. His sliver-like, antenna-esque ears quirked up as a slight flapping sound tore him from his stupor. He gazed heavenward, where a slip of paper floated high in the sky…higher…higher…higher still before the wind went dead and it plummeted straight down into the crackling flames in front of him. He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his slit-like nostrils, taking a long look at his surroundings.
The skyscrapers, once brilliant, sterile, were now blotted with black gashes and left as rickety husks, shadows of their former grandeur. The streets were lined with blackened bits of papers, burnt-out cars, trucks and buses and were strewn with bodies. Some laid on their backs, their mouths still agape in an eternal death scream of shock and awe. Others fell charred, still smoking with their blackened skulls, eyes turned to jelly, and tongues blistered.
Some weren't even military.
A distant office building suddenly gave away and crumbled into the ground from whence it was erected, scattering a billowing cloud of dust outwards. Ethan leaned slightly to the side as the incoming plume buffeted him. He half-closed his eyes, coughing and hacking phlegm into his fist as he was caked in dust and small bits of debris. The dragon proceeded to wipe his hand on his sleeve but paused, shook his head, and let his hand fall.
"Nothing," he whispered. "Nothing for me…," he looked down, "or for you, Alex."
The dragon's eyes jerkily gazed downwards. In his hands, cradled in his arms was a golden eagle, his feathers still gleaming beacon-like in the fall of ash. Deep gashes were cut into his body, and his piercing eyes stared hollowly, mortally forwards. His arm was bent the other way, his lower beak missing. His chest did not rise nor fall.
Ethan sighed once more, looking upwards with glazed eyes. The hazy energy trail leading down the center of the city was still visible.
From the Cornerians' own cannon.
Solar freed the skies from the suffocating ash, rays of light beaming downwards. One column basked him in the light, his light green fur shedding through the layer of ash and dust.
"Noooooo!" the dragon suddenly cried upwards at the light, snapping to his feet and letting the eagle slump to the ground. "Nooooo! Go away! Leave me alone! I hate you!"
His chest heaved erratically as the I-hate-you's echoed resoundingly, resolutely through the empty streets, looking each way as they assaulted him from all around, his eyes jerking frenziedly. His lip quivered as he fell to his knees. He shivered, his breath coming out in quick wisps and his arms and long, prehensile tail wrapped around his chest as he slowly bowed down to the pavement, sobbing as his tears streaked freely down his face.
The I-hate-you's still rang.
"I know," Ethan sniffed quietly, still shaking. "I know." After the tears finally ran dry, he pounded a light fist into the sticky tarmac and pushed himself back up into a kneeling position. "There's nothing left… There's no remnant… There's…nothing left for any of us…"
He removed the AKS-74u from his back, holding it gingerly for a few…seconds? Minutes? Hours? He didn't know. He still clung onto it for dear life.
And then popped a single bullet into the waiting chamber.
"Nothing left for me."
Neurotoxic Productions Presents
A Novel by Adder McBannon
Edited by King of the Rookies/Deadeye
Empty Void
[Main Theme- Mad World by Gary Jules]
Author's Notes- Hi there. Adder McBannon here once more. You're probably wondering- what happened to Rise of the Echelon? Or…maybe not, since I have doubts that many of you even read Contact or finished reading it to begin with.
This story, Empty Void, is something that I've been wanting to work on. If you're looking for Fox McCloud, Krystal, and the like… you won't find them here. This novel actually takes place six-hundred years before the events of Contact, so they will not be making an appearance. I will be using the names of the Lylat System's planets, but that's all the Star Fox references you'll find. If you enjoy reading highly original work, I plead that you give this novel a chance. If you were seeking Star Fox fiction…look elsewhere.
Oh, and a little other tidbit which I completely forgot about. In this story, the Lylatians are much, much more advanced than humans in our modern era, hence their use of weapons manufactured here in 1974 and 1950 during a year when American just finished their Revolutionary War. My gratitude goes to chaos_Leader for relating this to me.
As always, I encourage readers to offer honest-to-goodness, advanced critique. A small "Good job" is alright because I at least know who's reading this, but constructive criticism is what I seek. Thank you kindly. ~Adder McBannon