Who missed me? Lol Who even remembers me :/ It's been YEARS. I bet I've lost a lot of interest and credibility already even trying to get these few chapters up.

No need for excuses. My inconsistencies are very obvious. Honestly, What can you expect from a 15 year old kid, right? All that matters is that I'm older now, I've now gotten a lot of free time on my hands and have recently picked up to pen again. I decided it's time for a bit of a reboot. I'll be going over my previous chapters and editing them to make them flow a bit better, maybe develop the characters a bit more. Stay Tuned! I really want to finish it this time.

Obviously I stated this awhile ago, so my timeline is a little out of date, but I'm gonna go ahead and just pick up Post Conqueror of Shamballa.

Thanks for those who read. If you're returning to read some more, Thanks for your continued support. As always, a little creative criticism never hurt anyone, and suggestions are always appreciated.

Obviously I own none of the characters.

December 12, 1918

The day was cold, the night colder. Just like every other day for the last two months of this miserable Winter, but tonight was a quiet night, one that Central doesn't see too many of. For once there were no sirens, no screams or the sound of breaking glass; except for the events occurring in a large warehouse located ten miles from Central Headquarters.

"Riza, please, it's me," pleaded the dark haired man, trying not to pay attention to the barrel of the 30-30 rifle pointed at his chest, "Don't shoot," he said in an almost hysteric tone as he stepped forward, hands raised, unarmed, to either side of his head.

The woman, standing about four meters away from the figure jumped slightly and stepped away in the same stride, "No, stay right where you are," she ordered raising her sights to the mans head.

"Major, please. You have to believe me," he pleaded again.

"Not until you prove it. Keep your distance,"

Major Riza Hawkeye bit the inside of her lip nervously, wanting to believe the man so desperately. When she noticed the lump on the ground just on the edge of her field of vision she knew she couldn't trust this... thing. Not until she had proof would she give into her temptations. Not until she saw the face of the man on the ground, but as she stood there she couldn't help but to fear the worst for her beloved commander.

Her thoughts ran wild, asking questions that were impossible for her to answer: "Is he real, or is this just a horrible trick being played on me by that bastard Felinger. Either option is probable right about now. Damn it! Why the hell did he have to leave on his own like that? Why didn't he ask for my help?"

These questions flooded in from every crevice in her mind, consuming her to the point where she barely noticed the man step forward once. She barely reacted to the cracking noise of a gun shot behind her. She bit her lip hard to snap herself out of the daze she wandered into and quickly ducked behind a stack of crates. There was the sound of boot heels on concrete.

Bang

Again. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think of these minor changes. :)