Hello everyone! New story! This is actually my first AC story! I won't say a lot, just that I had this idea for some time especially since AC7 came out. Just had to get it off me. And since I suck, updates would be scarce as I have other stories that I have to maintain, and I'm gonna have school, and so on and so forth. The usual shit that life offers ya know. Anyway, let's get into the story!
The world was turning upside down all around me, literally. The warning lights and sounds would not stop their blinking and beeping. I struggled in my fight to try and keep my crippled fighter in the air, even though I knew that it wasn't gonna happen. I took three missiles, both of my engines were trashed, my right wing was blown off, and my plane was in a flat spin heading towards the ground. At that point, I had to accept that I wasn't gonna fly anymore. I let go of the stick and grabbed the ejection handles. Once I pulled, the canopy blew off and I was shot out of the aircraft. As I was shot out, the small white handkerchief of Yellow 4 that I kept with me since she died was blown off my front pocket.
No! Shit! I said trying to grab it but to no avail. The handkerchief flew off into the sky further away from me. Goddamnit! I knew I had to let it go. I knew that I had a bigger problem at the moment.
I fell for some time until I pulled the cord and landed safely on the ground. I picked myself up and looked around. I was standing in the middle of my country's capital city of Farbanti. The city was in shambles, not that it was already screwed up by that damn asteroid seven years ago but by the constant bombing of the enemy ISAF forces. I looked up and saw that the air battle was still raging but some time later I saw the two sides of the battle split and return to base. There weren't much that split off from the friendly forces. I couldn't find any allies, they retreated and surrendered just as fast as they mobilized. I had a little apartment in the city where I could go and grab some stuff before I had to leave again, hopefully, it wasn't bombed. Luckily it wasn't. I stayed there and I was able to fix myself up. I stayed in there sitting at the small table underneath a little overhead light for what seemed like an eternity. This war has already taken a toll on Erusea, and it was only getting worse. I saw caravans of people trying to get out of the city as I made my way here. People were trying desperately to get out and I knew I had to as well. Perhaps maybe even leave the country too. It wasn't treason, the war was bound to end pretty soon, and I was technically dead so I could do as I please. So I made my decision, I got in a change of clothes, packed some stuff in a backpack, and left. I squeezed in one of the caravans and made my way out of the city and broke off.
As I walked down the highway, I saw a pickup driving down the road and I managed to hitch a ride. We stopped at one of the other cities and I got off. Fortunately, the airport still worked and I was able to get a ticket to Osea. I didn't think they would need me to rebuild. In the sky was something down here, I was just like everyone else. And I had nothing left here. Perhaps when times were better I'd come back.
Once I landed in Osea, I was able to get ahold a few friends of mine. They helped me settle down and even got me a new identity. And that was that. Captain Ryan Danvers of the Erusean Air Force aka Yellow 13 was now officially dead. Now I was Jason Smith, your typical Osean man.
Some years had passed. I didn't hear too much from back at home, only that they were slowly picking themselves up. I didn't know what to think of my new life, it was quiet and peaceful but I missed the thrill of cruising up there at the edge of space. Then Osea got into a war, again. I immediately applied to be a pilot. The fake identity was solid and it stuck nicely. After a couple of months of tests, I was assigned to fly transports. Not exactly at the edge of space, but it was a start. I flew transports for a number of years when I was transferred to fly fighters instead due to the surplus of fighter aircraft but no one to fly them. I was tested again but I immediately outshined everyone. I was surprised myself, I thought I had gotten rusty over the years. This caused me to almost lose my cover, as a guy whose record only covered flying transport aircraft immediately outskilled all the other trainees. And I was looking a bit old myself. Fortunately, I was able to brush them off and I began to fly fighters again. I was a little surprised when I shipped back to Usea. But not to Erusea instead to an island on the eastern part of the continent. I flew under Mage squadron along with Golem squadron. It took me some time to fit in but I eventually did. I even made good friends with this girl from Golem squadron who I met back during testing whose call sign was Brownie. We always address each other on the ground like how friends would and I liked having her around. She was razor sharp but she reminded me of Yellow 4, and she became like a sibling to me.
We flew simple peacekeeping flight with the IUN from time to time. And I was contented with that. Mostly of the fact the I can still soar the skies with freedom. I thought everything was great and at peace. Little did I know that I was in for a hell of a ride.
Yup, it's the one and only Yellow 13. The enemy ace from AC4. I really like AC4 and how you can see the side of your enemy in a way that you sympathize with them and regret having to shoot them down in the end. And I don't believe Yellow 13 was bad in any way. If you put him and Mobius 1 in the same sky together and remove the war, they're basically the same. And I kinda believe that 13 was a true ace in my opinion. That's why I like him so much. And by the way, this is Yellow 13 and this is the AC7 storyline, so you know what's up. Anyway, thanks for reading and have a good day.
