Over the Skies of London: A Steambirds Survival One-Shot, Part Two: EPILOGUE
October 15th, 1947: Augustine Day
A man; grown old from the once youthful years he lived back in the Second World War, began walking over to a large statue situated in the heart of Liverpool with a bouquet of flowers in his hands and his old army uniform for remembering the occasion. The statue; the legendary Looper-P200 used exactly seven years ago to cripple the German Armada and saved nearly the entire populous of London, already had a sea of flowers by its side from the families that still lived. From the families that owed their lives to Felix Augustine; a hero who fought and died for them.
The man knelt down; reading the plaque that was placed beneath the statue:
"HERE STANDS THE STATUE DEDICATED TO FELIX AUGUSTINE; THE LONE CADET WHO STOOD AGAINST THE GERMAN ARMADA, SAVED THE PEOPLE OF LONDON FROM GENOCIDE, AND SHOWED THE GREATEST DISPLAY OF PILOTING ANY ENGLISHMAN HAD EVER WITNESSED. MAY HE BE REMEMBERED BY OUR CHILDREN, THEIR CHILDREN, AND THEIR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN AS THE BRITISH IDOL OF HEROISM, BRAVERY, AND COURAGE. WHEN THE CLARION CALL OF HISTORY ASKED: 'WHAT CAN ONE MAN DO?'; HE IS OUR ANSWER."
23rd of March, 1915 – 15th of October, 1940
And that was all. As strong as those words sounded; to the old man, they were seemingly so…empty. They said much, but failed to truly hit what the great pilot Felix truly stood for.
Once he bent over to leave the flowers he held and saying a silent prayer, another man had approached him; one far more in his prime with a young boy grabbing onto his left hand and his own bouquet of beautiful flowers in the right. He on the other hand, wore normal clothing although he too was originally a veteran.
"Papa, who's that?" the young boy asked.
The father acknowledged his son, however, maintained his stare with the elderly veteran.
"An old friend." He simply answered. Then, with some doubt plaguing his heart, he continued, "…Stephen, will you please go to mommy? Papa would like to be alone for a moment to himself."
The young boy, who was evidently Stephen, nodded. "Okay!"
The old man watched as the child joyfully dashed off; blissfully unaware as to how the entire holiday had so much to do with his own father.
Then, the elder smiled. "You have quite the handsome boy."
"Thank you." The younger man replied. But the hidden negativity in his voice was clear.
Sure enough, he paid his tributes as well by leaving his flowers next to where the old man left his. Then, staring at the statue in front of him for a few seconds or so, he turned away.
"You're not going to say anything else back to your superior officer, General Finlay? It has been quite a while since we've met face-to-face after all."
Finlay stopped in his tracks and slightly turned his head behind him. "Don't call me that anymore, Mark. I don't want anything to do with that god-forsaken War."
The old man, who was the same General that aided Felix in his final battle the whole time, crossed his arms in suspicion.
"Oh? And why not? You were promoted all the way to General in the war after all; you should be proud for serving your country well. In fact, I remember you being the loudest one when it came to fighting the Germans; always being the first to cry out war chants into battle." Mark insisted.
Finlay clenched his fists. "That was when I was half out of my mind. When I thought shooting down a German would be the greatest honor to your own country. But then, I realized: it wasn't. You, me, and all the other soldiers that fought in this war, whether they were British, German, American, Canadian, or Japanese, are all murderers. The only reason why we aren't being trialed for our sins, is that we fought by the sound of trumpets."
Mark stood silently, knowing that Finlay had more to say than just that.
"You know what I saw when I went to Germany? The buildings, the people, and their hope; destroyed. There was nothing left in them as we rushed in; even their eyes were so…devoid. Devoid of life. And we, the Allies, are to blame for that; even if we fought just to defend our own mother countries." Finlay explained, "That's why I want nothing to do with this war anymore. I don't want to remember I was a soldier who killed the sons of so many families, because I want to go on living with just my own to worry about."
And with that, Finlay began to leave once more, until the old General stopped him.
"As true as those words are, I doubt that's why you refuse to converse with an old comrade. There's something else you disliked in the past; something that you seem to fail to appreciate. And I know exactly what."
Finlay narrowed his eyes.
"You've apparently lost your mind after the war, old man, because you're dead wrong. And even if you were right, then there's no way in Hell you would know anything about me to such an extent." Finlay countered.
"I see," Mark said, "…then if that's true, why is it that you've never mentioned the most important person of this entire war and today once? Why is it that you're trying to avoid the most obvious person of all: Cadet Augustine?"
"I refuse to talk about such matters."
Mark frowned. "You don't have a choice. You owe him your LIFE, and like it or not, you are going to say everything on your mind; all the negative feelings that have jaded your heart, about Felix Augustine, right here, and right now in front of his own memorial. Do you know how horrible it was for him? We couldn't even recover his BODY; that's how much he suffered. So as a final offering; an offering far more valuable than all the flowers we've tossed over his statue, you are going to say everything you must about Cadet Augustine, even if you two were the bitterest of rivals."
Somehow, this entire order angered Finlay, as he quaked with anger.
"…You want to know what I think about him? Fine; here's what I think: Felix was the dumbest fool in the War, who died in a battle that he shouldn't have fought in. Do you know what I think of myself now? I think of myself as a COWARD; a coward for letting a soldier who was a lower rank than me to go into battle and die; even if it was Felix. Because every time I pass by here and leave flowers; I have to remember the fact that on that day, it would've been ME, and not HIM. That the reason why we couldn't even 'recover his body' was because I didn't try hard enough to actually stop him with his goddamn suicide mission."
Then, turning around, Finlay continued in a much louder voice:
"I don't want anything to do with the Allies, the Axis, and especially FELIX. Why can't you just understand that? Felix had no reason to go out there and die for us; nobody barely even tried to help the damn guy; including me. So what's the point of remembering him for? What's the point of remembering a dead soldier? Becoming a memory might mean something, but I don't see why I have to keep bringing back up all this pain every year I think about him. Otherwise, Felix is just a CURSE to my life."
Mark stared at Finlay for a few seconds; anticipating that he would say something else after this. But when the silence signaled that it was his turn to say something, he sighed.
"…At ease, Finlay. You should know that words are just as worthless as memories." Mark advised.
Saying nothing, Finlay closed his eyes and took a deep exhale to stabilize his emotions. Then, once he opened them back and looked at Mark, he realized that the ex-General was looking up at Felix's statue.
"…Do you want to hear something interesting about Felix, Finlay? Something only people who had access to his profile knew?"
The words were irresistible to deny. Finlay never knew much about Felix as Felix never knew much about him; the two were pretty separated during their time together.
So, as expected, he nodded.
"…Felix…was a surprisingly average child when it came to his youthful years. He was born in a very simple family; a father and mother respected in the community. Never too rich and never too poor; exactly in the middle of the social classes. He was undeniably…average. Well, that is to say...for the first four years in his life."
"The first four years?" Finlay questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Mark nodded. "Just before Felix was going to turn five, his father was conscripted into the army. That was around…1919, I believe? Somewhere along those lines, but nonetheless; Felix and his mother were separated from his father after he was conscripted to what we now refer to as the Russian Civil War."
Then, with a dark and serious look on his face, Mark turned to Finlay.
"Can you guess what happened afterwards?"
There was no need to even 'guess'. Anyone would realize where such a story was leading to.
Seeing that Finlay got the point, Mark continued, "Just like Felix; his father's body was never found. It was probably lost during a battle; the snow covering over the body after a blizzard and burying him where nobody could possibly find it."
"Needless to say, the news as to what happened was delayed. There were so many causalities and so little time to tell the families back at home about them. Once they reached Felix's father however, it was three yearslater than when the incident actually occurred. And sure enough, his mother fell ill; her weak heart crumbling by the fact that she would see her husband no more."
Finlay made a small gulp from this. This was all too much to believe. Although annoying; Felix was one of the most light-hearted people he had ever met. The fact that he had such a dark history behind him was just…there was no way.
"You seem to be tense by this Finlay? Well save it. It doesn't end there of course. Felix could do only so much on his own to help his mother. He was only seven, and worst of all, still grieving the loss of his father. Can you imagine how that must've been for him? Right after realizing his father was dead all these years, he was going to lose his mother too?"
Finlay couldn't.
"…It didn't take long though for Felix's worst fears to be realized. As much as his mother fought to live, she…could not recover from the blow his father's death set upon her, and perished in a month's time. Of course, with no parents or relatives, Felix had no choice but to be placed into an orphanage. For four years he lived a normal, happy life with his parents, like any other child should. But in a matter three, war managed to tear all that away from him."
Mark finished with that note. Everything else was history between Felix's time as an orphan and enrolling into the military as his only way out.
However, Finlay was still unsatisfied even with all this.
"…This whole thing…of course, it is a sad tale, but what does it have to do with me? What does it have to do with the fact that he pushed me off the plane that would seal my doom; taking my place instead?" Finlay asked.
Mark slowly revolved his head to Finlay; meeting him eye-to-eye. The old man's eyes were war-torn too; just like his own.
"…Isn't it obvious? Felix didn't just do it so he could just die; nor did he do it just for his country or the 'honor'. He did it for you."
Those last five words struck at Finlay like an arrow.
"…What? Why? Why me?" he asked.
"…I'm not sure, but what I do know is that Felix knew what life you had ahead of yourself, what life your wife had ahead of her, and what life your son had ahead of him. He fought and died so that you didn't have to; so that your family wouldn't have to crumble the way his did."
"But still!" Finlay began yelling with a quivering jaw, "But still! That doesn't answer my question! I wasn't the only one who was supposed to fight that day; there were others too! Others with families like my own! So why me!? Why did he choose me!? I was his rival! Like I said before; I never helped him, but in fact, I treated him like dirt! I treated him the WORST out of everyone else!"
Mark shook his head; chuckling at how naïve Finlay was acting.
"…No. You weren't his rival. You were his friend."
Finlay froze in place. Friend? The way he just described his actions towards Felix certainly didn't fall anywhere near the boundaries of friendship; let alone just being a good acquaintance altogether.
"…Finlay…you may have treated the Cadet like dirt, but…you were really the only person he had left to connect to. I certainly didn't have the time to focus on him, nor did the others in the platoon give half a damn either. But you…you at least responded to him. You were probably the first person who truly acknowledged his existence for seventeen years. So even if you were his 'rival'…it may have been possible that Felix wanted to just have a person by his side; even if that person kept trying to shove him away." The ex-General finished explaining.
Something shock-waved down Finlay's spine after hearing this. He wasn't sure what that feeling was, but he clearly was left dumbfounded as to how he never seemed to realize the Mark's point of view. And the fact that the General; who "didn't have the time to focus on him", knew Felix better than the one person who was nearest to him most…made Finlay even more-so guilty.
With his mouth left agape, Finlay felt his arms go numb as they fell by his sides. He turned to the statue; looking at the large Looper as if Felix was watching him now.
"…Oh my God…"
With a curt nod, Mark saw his job was done. He simply patted on Finlay's left shoulder with his hand, twice.
"…Don't let Felix's memory die in vain."
And with that, he turned and finally left Finlay at peace. Finlay stared at what used to be his higher-ranking officer; the man now with a slightly hunched back and withered from war.
He remembered the time when Mark was once a seemingly-immovable, well-built fighter.
He remembered the time when he was always so cockish with his performance in the military.
And he certainly remembers the time when Felix always called him out on it.
Then, Finlay felt a small, gentle tug from his left pant leg. Glancing downwards, he saw that Stephen had returned; not even realizing it.
"…Papa?" Stephen began.
"…Yes son?" Finlay asked in a hoarse whisper.
"…Why are you sad?"
Finlay was a bit confused by this. "Hm? Why do you think that?"
"Because you're crying Papa."
Finlay blinked; not even realizing the tears that were going down his cheeks. He made a small laugh at how pathetic he must've looked to his son.
"…No. Don't worry Stephen. They're not tears. I've just got…something in my eyes. That's all. Papa's very happy that he's with you and Mama now."
Content with this answer and believing his father, Stephen nodded. "Okay Papa."
"Alright. As long as you understand. Let's go; it's getting late. We're making your favorite tonight."
"Yay! And my favorite dessert too?"
"Of course."
"Woohoo!"
Finlay couldn't help but smile as he watched his young boy run to his mother's arm; the both of them carefree about all the things in the world. There was really no other scene better than it.
Then, just before he walked away from Felix's memorial; just before he was going to say goodbye to a rival…no…an old friend once more, he said the two words that everyone in London said to Felix every day they were able to live on with their lives.
"…Thank you…"
-END
Final Credits:
Original Concept: Based off of Spryfox's game: "Steambirds Survival"
Lyrics (From previous chapter): English translation of: "Tsubasa wo Kudasai" ("Give Me Wings"), featured in the movie: "Neon Genesis Evangelion 2.0: You Can (Not) Advance"
Written by: Sanjou Michio
Composed by: Murai Kunihiko
Arranged by: Funayama Motoki and Sagi Sushirou
Performed by: Hayashibara Megumi
IMPORTANT NOTE: *Certain quotes/lines from the story, such as those where the General in the previous chapter gave "updates" as to who was evacuating London while Felix fought off the German Armada, were based off from the quotes shown in every wave of Spryfox's game: "Steambirds Survival". Also, ALL EVENTS THAT OCCURRED IN THIS FANFIC ARE CLEARLY FICTION.
A/N: Hey guys! For those of you new readers who just came by to see the Steambirds fanfiction, I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did when I was writing it! This was something I've been dying to finish for a while, and I was guilty of not finishing it from April! But now, I feel confident about uploading it (since my writing has certainly improved from then), so yeah! I've put my best into this for the past week!
And as for those of you who are my usual readers for my Madness Combat series, I hope you'll understand that I wrote this just because:
One: I wanted to do something different for a change, since it can get boring just writing about the same damn topic over and over again.
Two: I DID promise to some people at a forum that this one-shot (which kinda became a bit longer than I originally thought it would), would be done. I actually left it on hiatus since April because I had to focus on my other fanfics, but I've been feeling really guilty that I gave up on this idea, so I gave it my all these past few days to finish it! I hope you guys at least enjoyed this too, and don't worry; I'm still working on my Madness Combat saga! The next chapter of Never Forget is at 13,000 words, and counting, and should be done by tomorrow, and Hank's Legacy's next chapter is almost done in the planning stage!
So yeah! Thank you all for reading this! "Steambirds: Survival" was a big game to me back then (since this was literally the ONLY decent game that works on my school computer…), and kept me from dying of boredom in school! I really want to give a big special thanks to Spryfox and all the developers that worked/is working hard on all these cool games! You guys rock, so keep it up!
Anyways, enough chit-chat. I must start doing my weekend homework now (because, you know…high school), and I'll be working on my Madness Combat fanfics along the weekend! Thank you all so much; both new fans for dropping on by, and old fans for being so patient!
I hope you guys enjoyed this fanfic, and as always, have a good night.
Later!
~Spirit9871
