A/N: So lately, I've been into this game called "Steambirds: Survival", and thought; "Hey, this might actually make an epic fanfiction!" Sure enough, being the writer I am, I decided to write something up for it, and for the first time ever, write a one-shot on something absolutely non-Madness Combat. So for those of you who have been following me for my Madness Combat stories, do not worry. I am working on the next chapter of my latest story alongside this simple one-shot. This was just something I wanted to write for a long time since it was just stuck in my head.
Now then, as for those of you who are here for the Steambirds fanfiction tribute, get ready, because this is going to be one Hell of a ride. This fanfiction will be hard for those of you who don't know what Steambirds is, so let me brief you a bit (you may skip over the gray faded line if you already know this game to get to the fanfiction).
Steambirds is based on airplanes dog-fighting in World War II. The original game has multiple missions; each with a historic event that occurs for you to command your planes and take down the German forces.
After the original series received a lot of positive reviews, the creator, Spryfox, decided to make a sequel called "Steambirds: Survival" (The topic I will be writing about). This game is a lot more different with more mechanics. "Steambirds: Survival" tells the story of a single brave pilot that takes flight on the plane he chooses against the invading German forces on October 15th, 1940 in London, England. Because this attack was unexpected, the pilot is only aided by a few ally planes which are downed soon after flight. As for the pilot himself though, he takes down as many enemy planes as possible while fighting to stay alive (though that is impossible since he is outnumbered 1000 to 1). By doing so, he does his best to buy some time for the British people to escape before being gassed by the Germans. However, there is no hope for he himself of staying alive.
So, with that quick backstory over with, let's get right to it. This story was inspired by the game itself and Sacrom574's "The Last Stand".
Let's go!
Over the Skies of London: A Steambirds Survival One-Shot, Part One: THE GASSING OF LONDON
What has he gotten himself into THIS time?
Name: Felix Augustine
Age: 25
Rank: Cadet
Position: Pilot
Felix already knew he was dead. The second he placed himself into this plane, he knew he was already dead. The Germans were coming on strong.
And this time, they're not leaving any survivors.
He clenched his hands on the lever he held tightly. He was already airborne, so there was no stopping him now.
Then, a signal came through the radio:
"What in bloody Hell do you think you're doing, Cadet?"
Felix sighed. The General never really did like him, and doing this only made things worse. He decided to go with a witty comeback.
"…Fighting for my country…sir."
"Your country!? You're just a Cadet! I chose my best pilots for this; not some low-ranking scouts! What made you think I would appreciate the fact that you had just hijacked Second Lieutenant Finlay's plane!? Get back down here before the Germans get you!"
"…I'm sorry, sir. I just can't do that. Not now. Or ever."
"What!?"
"Scream all you want, but I'm not listening to you."
A dead silence followed; the General expecting the mandatory "sir" that would follow the sentence.
It never came.
"How DARE you speak at me with such foul tone! Get back down here so I can smack some sense in you, you no good, godforsaken-!"
"Goodbye." Felix cutoff the higher-up with.
And then silence. This time though, the silence was here to stay.
Felix continued traveling the straight path to the battlefield. In his possession was a Looper-P200; the finest plane that the British had in their hands. It was fairly simple stealing the seat from the Second Lieutenant; before Finlay could take his seat, Felix ran in, shoved him out, and drove off with the plane before anyone could stop him. An unexpected hijack, really.
Was it stupid?
Yes.
Was he proud of it?
Yes.
By the time the clouds had dispersed and he had reached his destination, Felix almost lost his breath. There was a Behemoth NN10; the largest aircraft known to man at that time.
Felix looked around. His allies were as follows:
Two Bart-B14s
And three Stinger-H11s
They were all already in the battle, meaning that it wouldn't take long until each one of them would be downed and out.
Felix continued flying straight; his palms starting to get sweaty. The Behemoth was only getting bigger by the second, and if he didn't think of something fast, then he would be shot down in a minute.
Looking down at the controls in front of him, he remembered that the Looper was packed with five lock-on missiles. His guns would be jammed for only a few minutes, so it would be the perfect opportunity to use them.
Continuing his assault, Felix fired a single projectile at the Behemoth.
Direct hit.
As the Behemoth went down, Felix could hear the two screams of his own allies in the Bart-14s before hitting the Earth.
"Oh dear God, I'm Going Down!"
"Going Down!"
This was followed by static and two deafening crashes. Felix tried to ignore it. Because he knew it was only a matter of time before he would join them.
Following straight behind what used to be the Behemoth was a Dart NN05 and an Otto NN10. Felix continued traveling straight; easily taking down both aircrafts since they were already weakened.
On the other hand, the rest of the Stingers took a different route to a much larger target: a Spotter NN20.
"No, you fools! You're going to die if you go that way; STOP!" Felix shouted in desperation over the radio.
"What does it matter to you, Felix; you thief! We will die regardless, so let Death take us with these Germans appetizers!" One pilot yelled.
"Long live the Royal Family!" The second added.
Felix said nothing back to either of them. He turned his plane around to follow them; false hope plaguing his heart.
But even with the incredible speeds of the Looper, it was too late. Felix would only watch as the Spotter would go down along with his three comrades.
"Going Down!"
The sentence was repeated three times by different voices and followed by crashes that made Felix's heart slump lower and lower.
Felix gulped. Now it was official.
He was all alone.
Him against the whole German Armada.
Felix shook his head.
No.
He was the one to seal his doom. Nobody else was to blame.
And he would let his people escape before the gas could touch them.
After Felix had shot down the Spotter that took his allies' lives, he made a 180 to aim for the planes hi-tailing him.
The signal from HQ came back on.
"You're really going with this, aren't you, you fool?"
Felix said nothing as he downed two more Otto N10s.
"Well, at least say something before you die, Cadet."
"Yes. I am. Tell Finlay I'm sorry that I had to do this to him. That I took away his chance of honor. And tell him to take care of his family."
The General said nothing to this. After a few seconds had passed, Felix had taken down another duo of planes without a scratch. The General finally tore the tense silence.
"You now refuse to call me 'sir', anymore, Cadet Augustine? What happened to your manners? I remembered you have plenty."
"That is just your memory. Memories fade with time. And so shall I."
More silence. More planes downed.
"…If this is what you want, then so be it. With every minute, you give 100 homes to escape. With every hour; 1,000. Godspeed pilot."
Felix nodded, as if the General could see him now. There was a click, and the signal was temporarily cut.
The young pilot watched as more planes appeared from the cloudy horizon. It seemed as though every plane he would take down, two more would take its place.
Suddenly, Felix realized he was boxed in. With a flash of his memory, he remembered that the Looper worked particularly well revolving around 360 Degrees.
He would use it.
Felix twirled the lever around; feeling his stomach go queasy as he made one full circle around him and spraying bullets everywhere. He jerked forward when he felt some of the enemy's projectiles hit his own machine.
"Damn it!" Felix hollered.
But it was all right. Whoever had shot him was dead by now after the stunt he pulled.
The next wave followed after the last two. Seeing that there was resistance however, the Armada decided to come in with much more menacing forces.
Turtle PN10s and more Dart NN05s, alongside multiple Otto NN10s and Spotters.
Felix could easily handle the Ottos and Spotters; they were slow and their range of fire was laughable. The real problem were the Turtles and the Darts; they were much faster than the normal brand of enemy airships and can deal devastating effects as well, especially the PN10s. Not only could they fire from the front, but they can deliver toxic gas from any aircraft behind them. Felix's only option for attack was to either slow down during a head-on battle, or, more preferably, to attack from the side where none of the firepower can stretch out to him.
And then there were the Dusters.
The DusterPN10s are one of the main players in this battle. With practically little to no armor on them and no guns to fire from; these planes served no purpose other than to charge into the enemy like suicide bombers, and (hopefully) gas them out. In addition, their speeds were remarkable; far faster than any other plane mankind has produced so far. However, as long as Felix was savvy enough to avoid coming too close from behind, then they shouldn't be a problem either.
Making a swerve to the left, Felix shot down yet another two Ottos and a Duster. He continued turning until he was met face-to-face with a dreaded Turtle. As planned though, he slowed himself down to prevent coming too close into the German plane's range, and fired. After a dozen bullets or so, the engine finally gave way, and the aircraft began plummeting down to the earth below.
"More scouts are approaching. The full armada can't be far off now."
The General's sudden voice nearly gave Felix a heart attack as he spun once more in a full circle; guns flaring wildly to down any nearby foes.
A Dart and another Otto bites the dust.
"Thanks for the positive reinforcement." Felix sarcastically replied.
The General on the other hand, was not so lax.
"Cadet, listen carefully; what you're facing right now is nothing compared to what's coming ahead. Once they realize you're still in the air after multiple waves, the enemy will be relentless. Do not lower your guard for even a second; these men have shown no mercy in the face of Death."
"Understood."
Another click set the radio off and Felix was left all alone once again; swerving left and right to escape any fields of fire the enemy may impose on him, as well as shooting down more and more planes for Death to feast on. But the Axis wouldn't stop coming; this was their final push before their dreams die.
Suddenly, without any signal or warning, a Duster had flown across from him. Felix managed to shoot it down, only to find that he was driving into the cloud of inescapable poison gas.
Not realizing the gas was even entering his plane; Felix took a deep inhale at exactly the wrong moment. He gasped and choked; lungs burning like fire. Just as the General predicted, the Germans showed no mercy as they sped up and took this moment of opportunity to fire at Felix. Bullets peppered him from almost everywhere; metal clanging with metal.
"FELIX!"
Somehow, the General mentioning his first name had snapped the young pilot back into his senses. He made another full rotation to take down any of the daring planes that stormed in on him while he was busy trying to clear out the toxins.
Felix drove faster to escape any other attacks and to have more time to recollect himself. The Looper on the other hand, was starting to show visual weakening; the backside billowing with black smoke instead of a healthy white.
The skies grow dark, but not with clouds…
A boy, barely the age of six, stood with the audience and watched the skies in pure amazement; as Bristols zigzagged and performed other astonishing stunts for the viewers to marvel in. It was the year 1919; 20 years prior to the start of World War II, where Germany invaded Poland and enslaved its people for expansionism.
17 years before all of the real problems began.
The boy's eyes widened; mouth agape, while the small planes rotated and looped around each other. The crowd was filled with "ooh's" and "ahh's" with every trick the pilots displayed.
Hearing footsteps coming towards his general direction; the child looked to his right and made a wide grin.
His father made it just in time.
"Papa!" the youngling excitedly yelled.
Turning to where the familiar voice came from, the man sighed in relief.
"There you are, Felix. For the love of all things good; please, don't run off like that while I'm not looking. I was worried sick that something might have happened to you." He scolded.
Felix lowered his head. "I'm sorry Papa. I won't do it again."
The man stared at his son for a few moments, then chuckled at the youthful innocence his child had.
"It's alright. Now then, why did you just decide to scurry off here all of a sudden?" he questioned.
Beaming, Felix pointed towards the sky where planes droned.
"Look Papa! They're making a show!"
Felix's father looked upwards. He smiled.
"Indeed they are."
In response to this, Felix rambled on about the unbelievable performance the pilots had set up so far as he tried to describe every detail; regardless of how minuscule they may be.
"Felix." His father suddenly cut off his son.
"What is it Papa?"
"There's something important I need to tell you."
The enthusiastic smile on Felix's face melted away by his father's tone.
It was never a good sign when he talked like that.
"What is it Papa?" He repeated, only with fear and worry in his voice this time.
The man gulped, knowing what heavy burden he was about to put on his son. But he had to say it now; at least to give some time to let his news sink in.
"…Would you be sad if your father went away for a long time?"
"Of course Papa!" Felix shouted back; shocked that his father would ask such a question and not know the answer, "I would be very sad!"
"Well…" the man said with a defeated sigh, "…It turns out, your father has to go to war, and…he might not be able to see his family for a long time."
Felix's heart sank.
War?
Any child would be scared straight the second they heard the mere word itself. The tales of the endless carnage as man fought man were far worse than any fear a youth may have about the Boogeyman.
And worst of all…they were real.
"Why?" Felix asked.
"Because the Russians need our help fighting the Germans. The British promised to give them our support. So along with the volunteers, the government chose people they thought that knew how to fight. And, well…they chose me." The man answered.
Felix looked down at the ground; this time in a sorrow far more intense than when he was scolded.
"No Papa…please stay. Don't go. You know Mama's heart won't handle it."
"I know," the man answered with a nod as he kneeled down to his son's height, "but I must, for my country calls me. You have to be strong."
"But I don't want to be strong! I want my Papa!" Felix yelled; ready to cry.
The man placed a hand on Felix's shoulder.
"Please, Felix. Don't make this too hard on me, yourself, or your mother. You have to stay strong. Be the man of the house while I'm gone and take care of Mama. Make sure you listen to her and don't give her a hard time, you hear?"
Felix's lips however, did not; as they twisted into a frown. He wiped off the tears that rolled down his cheeks with the sleeve of his right arm.
"But promise me!" Felix continued, "Promise me you'll come home soon! Promise me that you'll be with me and Mama even after the war!"
The man lifted off his hand from Felix's shoulder and let out a deep sigh.
"…I…I can't promise you how long it will take Felix. War ends only when the men choose it to end. But, I will promise you that I will come home. That I'll be right next to you to see you grow up and become a big, strong man; bigger than your father in fact." he reassured.
Felix sniffled. "Really? You really promise?"
"I promise."
"Okay, but…don't lie to me! Or I'll be very, very mad!"
The man smirked. "Of course not. Now come on; it's getting late. Let's go home and see what your mother has for us. I did hear though that she's making your favorite."
Felix merely nodded. The appetizing meal did help lift up his spirits, but only a bit.
"Papa?"
"Yes Felix?"
"Are you going to be happy when you're going to go and fight?"
Felix's father bit his lip; the question jabbing into his mind and heart like a dagger.
"…I'll be proud. Proud…because I'm fighting for my country."
"Why?"
The man stared at Felix for a few seconds; trying to find a good answer appropriate enough for his son to understand.
Then, he pointed to the sky.
"You see the planes up there? The ones making those fancy loops and twirls in the sky?"
"Yes Papa. I see them."
"Well…" the man paused for a few seconds. Then, he continued: "…imagine us. The British, as those…"Steambirds" they like to call them as nowadays. We fly and soar through that blue, blue, sky, because we are free to do so. Free to spread our wings and take it all in. But then, we have the bad, German planes that come and try to shoot us down so they can take our skies. That's why I'm fighting; I'm going to be one of the planes that try to keep the sky we love. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
In all honesty, the young boy could only comprehend so much, and would've shaken his head. But his father was clearly putting a large effort into describing the adult phenomenon that echoed across Europe.
Felix slowly nodded.
Thinking that the message actually went through, the man grinned as he stood up from his kneeling position.
"Alright. As long as you understand. Let's go."
Felix said nothing as he held his father's hand in silence while they walked off. Years later, Felix regretted the fact that he never truly asked what his Papa meant. And he never could afterwards.
Because Papa never came home.
"FELIX!"
Gasping, Felix snapped himself out of his small flashback. The poison was strong; Felix still felt his midsection burn as if it was being blasted by a blowtorch.
"…I'm fine…" he finally managed to say with a painful exhale, "…I'm still alive…"
"Felix, you MUST focus! That one small mistake nearly got you killed alone!"
Felix made a deep gulp as he placed his hands back on the lever that controlled his aircraft.
"…Right. Focus." He repeated.
More bullets left the Looper as he decided to go for the large Spotters that were closing in on him. Thanks to the insanely-rapid firing rate packed into the British-made plane, Felix tore through the German forces like paper. But the numbers were against him; every turn he made after clearing out one area, another would be covered with hostiles.
The General knew that this sight would make even the strongest-willed of men lose hope. But he had to make sure Felix kept it; it was the only thing other than the steam engine that kept his plane running.
So, he decided to motivate him with news as to how every second he was up in the air was making a difference every once in a while.
"Manchester has been evacuated. It's citizens will spread your legend far and wide."
"The Australians have welcomed 50,000 of our citizens! Give them time to flee!"
"Coventry has been evacuated. Its residents owe you their lives."
"500,000 citizens have been evacuated. You are their savior."
"Avonmouth has been evacuated; its bustling port is still and silent now."
"The actors of Palace Theater will entertain our citizens in other lands thanks to you."
"The hospital in Plymouth has been evacuated. Who will care for their patients now?"
"The markets of Cardiff are quiet; its people have scattered to the four corners."
"Most of Clydebank has been evacuated. The town drunk wouldn't leave."
"The Royal family has been spirited away to Jamaica. The Queen thanks you for your sacrifice."
"You've bought enough time to evacuate Oxford; the faculty are safe!"
"One million citizens have been evacuated so far. You have exceeded all of our hopes."
The General made the right choice doing this; for some reason, Felix fought harder than he did before with every update. It gave him pride; the fact that just like his father, he was fighting for the one thing the British loved more than anything else: their country.
But then, there was one line that got to Felix:
"The city's orphanages have been evacuated. Those kids will never forget you."
Something inside of the pilot shattered as painful feelings of the past returned. However, he quickly suppressed those thoughts.
London will disappear beneath a poisonous cloud the moment he stops fighting.
"The first wave of the Axis' armada has arrived. Heaven help us."
"You think you're so much better than me, huh Finlay? Just because you got higher marks means nothing!"
Cadet Finlay turned to the rambunctious comrade that would always come up to him after an exam; Cadet Augustine. Felix would always fail miserably on the examinations, whereas Finlay would pass with the highest grades in the training platoon.
"What the Hell do you want now, Augustine?" he questioned with annoyance.
"Don't: 'What the Hell do you want now' me, Finlay! You just can't help but show yourself off, can't you?" Felix angrily retorted.
"Well why shouldn't I? I did work for my marks after all, and they surely reflect how much time I put into my studies, as do yours." Finlay said.
"It's absolutely putrid; stop acting like some kind of miracle of God and stop being so arrogant about it! You're making me sick to my stomach!" Felix continued.
"Oh, really?" Finlay rhetorically asked, "…and I'm assuming you didn't do well on this exam either? Speaking of which, what did you receive this time around?"
With that last sentence, Finlay tried to steal a peek towards Felix's test. Felix however, pulled away fast enough before he could even get a glance at one question.
"That's none of your concern." Felix muttered.
"Just as I expected." Finlay said, "Your grades keep sinking lower and lower down the latrines. Hell, I'm wondering whether or not they're going to have to make new numbers just because of your test results, Augustine."
Felix narrowed his eyes. "Oh belt up, Finlay. It's not like you're any different even with these stupid examinations; we're both Cadets."
Finlay chuckled. "On the contrary, actually. It turns out, the General is going to promote me to Second Lieutenant."
A shocked silence pierced the air. Then, Felix finally managed to whisper a single word from his mouth:
"…What?"
"You heard me right, Cadet. Looks like I beat you to it. From now on, you're going to be the one saluting me when we pass the halls." Finlay stated.
Felix pursed his lips; a burning flame of anger and envy ignited into him.
Seeing that he had devastated Felix enough, Finlay stood up from his seat.
"Well! It's best if I get going now! I must receive my new uniform after all!"
Felix was still left frozen from where he stood.
"Best of luck Felix; I'm sure you can make it to my level…by the time I become a General myself, that is." Finlay finished with a nasty grin plastered to his face.
As if he wasn't infuriated enough, Finlay somehow managed to touch his nerves even further. The Cadet was literally shivering in rage as he watched what would become his higher officer leave the door of the room. Had he not restrained himself, he was certain he would've pounced onto Finlay and tore off his face.
"...Finlay, you goddamn blunt…"
Felix had no idea what he was doing anymore.
His head was spinning from the rotations he kept making and from the toxins that were still spreading throughout his body. A few minutes ago, he was downing German pilots like there was no tomorrow; almost as if he was some kind of fighting genius.
Now, he felt as if he had a horrible case of vertigo.
Even though the General did his best to motivate the scout, it was clear that he was getting sloppier and sloppier by the minute. With every four kills, he'd take a few shots himself from all different angles.
The General's words had started becoming faint to his ears. Felix looked down; seeing the chaos that ran amuck London. The streets that were once seemingly filled with scattered people were now eerily empty, but instead, were showered with the metal German planes that fell from the sky.
Felix knew that any man would risk everything for such glory. They would kill all of the Germans and laugh with every plane that fell from the sky.
But he had no reason to laugh. His country was in pain. His people in pain.
And he himself was in pain.
Clouds began to gather as rain drizzled over the blasted lands below. Thunder roars in the distance with artillery. There is little hope for sunlight today.
"…Well, you did it, you crazy son of a gun. Nearly all of London has been evacuated. You are truly an angel of mercy."
Felix sulked back down in his chair as he closed his eyes. A single cough escaped his lungs from the aftereffects of the toxic gas; aftereffects that would most likely never go away.
"Is it over, General? Please for the love of God; tell me it's over…" Felix begged.
"Aye, it should be. The Germans have nothing left to destroy; they'd have lost their minds if they thought there was any point left in this massive genocide." The General confirmed.
Felix sighed in relief.
Finally.
"Shall I return to the ground?"
"By all means."
Complying, Felix turned 180 degrees back towards the runway. He grinned.
He was now a legend.
…But once the Looper had made its full turn; that grin vanished.
"…Sir…what's that in the distance?"
From the ground, the General turned to where Felix's aircraft was facing. And what he saw nearly made his heart stop.
The gray rainy clouds began to spread apart for the massive armada of planes it shrouded.
The Germans weren't finished just yet.
"No...no, no, no; they have nothing left to fight for! London's been evacuated; what's left to destroy!?" The General yelled in awe.
Felix sat in silence for a few seconds, but then gave his higher-up the most obvious answer of all with a single word:
"...Me."
The General's jaw slightly sagged.
So that's it?
That's what the Armada was fighting for; a single plane and its pilot to join their many comrades?
"Cadet, get down here. You don't have to do this; you've gone far enough." The General ordered.
Felix shook his head; realizing that the choice to either live or die was no longer his.
It was destiny.
He would be the last serving on Death's plate.
"No." He simply replied.
"Cadet, don't act brave! This isn't your battle anymore; the Germans have taken this too far! There's nothing left to die for, so listen to your commanding officer and-"
"…Mark."
The General stopped midway in his sentence as Felix mentioned his first name. It was a disrespectful act, but in this case, Felix was basically telling him to shut it.
"…Maybe I have done my job. Maybe this battle really is supposed to be over. But I will never forgive myself for retreating against the Germans. Not even if I saved the whole world. These skies…our skies; are ours and ours alone. And the Germans will NOT have it as long as I'm still here."
The General rubbed his face with both hands; disbelieving that all of this could possibly be happening right now.
He had to know one last thing though.
"…Why? Why are you still doing this? There's nothing left for you to die for. Are you really going to just let them take you like this? What good will committing suicide do?"
To the General's surprise, Felix laughed.
"General, you know damn well that I really am dying for nothing anymore. I'm not just fighting for my people nor my country. I'm fighting for the one thing my father died for as well; the one thing I won't let the Germans take away from me, even if they force down all their poison gas into my lungs."
"…And that is?"
Felix looked up; a glint of light flickering across his eyes.
"…My freedom."
The German Armada was now in position. A shower of bullets flew at the Looper.
'...If I can get one wish…'
'…To come true right now, I want a pair of wings…'
The General could only watch as the massive sea of projectiles swarmed towards the young pilot. Only two words could leave his mouth in his state of shock.
"My God."
There was nowhere to escape, as Felix could only watch the shots charge at him.
'…Please put white wings…'
'…On my back like a bird's…'
Felix held onto the lever in his seat tightly; almost as if it would help block the sickening sound of metal bullets flying and piercing through his metal hull.
It didn't.
The backside of the Looper was now on fire; nearly dead.
'…I want to spread my wings…'
'…And fly in this sky…'
Felix flipped over the switch he used for firing and saw a smaller, red button underneath it.
It was a bomb; strong enough to take out any of the planes within a 50-mile radius…including his own.
With no haste, he pressed the switch; closing his eyes and awaiting Death to take him away from this Hell.
Felix opened his eyes when he realized nothing was happening. But it didn't take a genius to figure out why.
It was jammed.
The only way to bring the bomb into the German fleet now, was to bring it to them.
So Felix pushed his lever down slowly; jamming it harder to accelerate even faster.
And then, for no reason, he just started screaming.
'…I want to make my wings flutter…'
'…In a free sky without sorrow…'
Again, a second swarm of bullets were fired from the Germans; nearly blocking out the sun from down below. And again, they scraped against Felix's plane as it slowly began tearing apart.
Felix on the other hand, was still yelling from the top of his lungs like there was no tomorrow. Somehow, the fact that he was hollering like a maniac was pushing him forward.
'…That thing I dreamt of as a child…'
'…I still dream of it, unchanged, now…'
The Germans on the other end were shocked as to why this lone, British pilot was screaming and charging at them like a madman. However, that didn't stop them from retaliating with their own gunfire.
The Looper took every hit.
'…I want to spread my wings…'
'…And fly in this sky…'
Felix cut through the massive battalion; dodging every plane nearby with the best of his ability. He didn't know how it was probable that his plane was still even flying, but he sure wasn't going to just waste his chance.
Then, he saw his goal; three monstrous Behemoths in the center of it all.
It was only then; once Felix had finally made it to the three large blimps that fired at him as well, once the engine of his plane had finally burst, and once he began to descend down from the Heavens…
…That he closed his eyes; saying his last ten words.
'…I want to make my wings flutter…'
"Papa…did I protect our skies…just like you said…?"
'...In a free sky without sorrow."
There was no other way to describe the explosion that followed afterwards, other than hellish. The Looper managed to cut through a few meters into the first Behemoth until exploding; triggering the single bomb and the remaining missiles stored in it.
Whatever planes that were nearby the Behemoths were obliterated into ash; as the large aircraft Felix crashed into caused a chain-reaction of explosions that were visible to almost all of London; skies set alight into flames.
Planes fell from the sky faster than flies; raining down on a deserted London like bombs of their own. Then, finally, the Behemoths slowly crashed down as well, as their massive chunks of metal decorated the battle-torn ground.
The General pulled off his cap; as he stared at the unholy destruction over London. So many families will never see their sons again.
But so many families will still live on as well; thanks to Felix.
As planned; the remaining German planes in the sky; somehow escaping Felix's onslaught, gassed the shambles which were once known as the great crown of the British empire; London. But it was a hollow victory, if not, even a defeat for the Germans. With a single plane; Felix had done the impossible. He tore apart a large chunk of the dreaded armada and weakened its force and morale exponentially.
Although the Americans and Canadians never came in as support to such a crucial battle, all the General had to do was to regroup with them and retaliate.And after this massacre, it could prove to be an easy victory.
All the General had to do was to carry on the torch of war Felix had dropped.