Here we are, chapter four! This one is pretty different, but I have a feeling you'll like it. In it, we go to the past, exploring the stories of the Altman brothers, Grant Tillings, Tyler Faulkner, and of course, Larry Wheeler. Take a gander.

Chapter 4: Memoirs

Soundtrack: Ace Combat Zero: The Belkan War, "Diapason". Extended version on YouTube by Zaptroxix

July, 1997

Directus, Ustio

The sun pierced the glass of the simple office, high on the fifth floor of a decently low skyscraper in the middle of Directus. From the large window, an observer could see all over the Ustian capital, viewing the shimmering buildings and prominent church towers standing like memorials to a former time.

An observer sat at a desk in the office, a desk covered with photos of friends, family, and friends that were treated like family. The man at the desk was only twenty four, but his receding hairline hinted otherwise. He wore a plain dress shirt and pants, a seemingly simple attire for a man with a surprising history.

As he looked down on the series of papers on his desk, he thought of that evening two years ago when he was shot down over these same skies, this same portrait of the bright sun breaking through the clouds and creating an orange hue in the sky. He looked down on his papers again. They were part of a novel he had been writing all the way back from his time in the war.

A door opened to the office, revealing a small thirteen-year-old silently peeking into the naturally lit room. The man at the desk had not noticed him, and was thus easily his prey. The boy moved back from the door, glancing at his fifteen-year-old brother next to them. The two then simultaneously nodded at each other. Their plan would work.

With a single, deft movement, the younger boy silently opened the door and tiptoed to the desk, where its tenant was still silently staring out at the city of Directus. As the two neared their target to scare, all of the world around them was silent. You could hear a pin drop.

But the former pilot had a sense of hearing even more acute than that.

"I can hear you two!" called the man sitting at the desk.

"Uncle Rainer…." moaned the two at the same time upon realizing that their plans of frightening the battle hardened ace had been foiled.

Rainer Altman swiveled in his chair to face his two nephews, meeting them with a warm smile and subsequently an even warmer hug.

"Good to see you, Zach! Greeted Rainer as he patted his younger nephew on the back. "And good to see you, Michael," greeted the former pilot as his nephews said their greetings as well. "I know this is something you've probably heard countless times, but you two seriously have grown. It won't be long now and you'll both be heading off to college!"

"Aw, don't remind us of that already, Uncle Rainer!" complained Zach, whereas Michael stood awkwardly at the question. His little brother bumped him in the shoulder, mocking, "At least I have to not think about that!"

Rainer looked at Michael as he shuffled his feet. His future was coming up. "Michael, you don't need to worry about this yet. You don't have to make a college choice yet, and when the decision comes up, I'm sure you'll know what to do. You're a smart kid."

"Thank you, Uncle Rainer, but the college isn't the difficult part. It's what career I'm looking for. I feel like everything seems appealing to me, which doesn't help much in the decision process…" complained the teenager.

Rainer ruffled the hair of Michael, showing a smile of positivity towards the future. "No worries. I didn't know what I would do either when I was your age, and it wasn't until the war that I decided what I wanted to do."

Michael was decently young, but he was pretty good with words and wasn't awkward with Uncle Rainer. His family had stayed with the other Altmans countless times. Rainer was his father's younger brother, and the two were very close. When the Usean Continental War broke out, sending Michael and Zachary to Ustio was the logical choice. After all, Rainer's brother had moved to Usea to avoid war in the first place.

"Well, not all of us can be blessed with a war…" muttered Michael. His future didn't look too positive.

Rainer looked out the window once again, imagining two Su-37s streaking their way across the sunlit sky, not responding to the controversial statement.

It appeared as though Rainer wasn't the only person imagining aircraft. Zachary gazed at the sky as well, contemplating the battles between the Belkan Knights and the infamous Demon Lord.

Rainer had not talked about his history much, as each contemplation bred thoughts about his now deceased best friend. He was not only his squadron commander, but an extremely close confidant. Obert Jager was a brother and a model fighter pilot to the end.

"Uncle Rainer, can you tell us about your time in the war?" asked Zach, contemplating his own possible future in the Air Force.

Rainer looked at a clock on the wall. "Sure thing, I'll tell you guys on our way home. But first, let's go get something to eat."

September 7, 1998

Old Towne, San Salvacion

Soundtrack: Ace Combat: Assault Horizon Legacy, "Fighter's Honor". Extended version on YouTube by Zaptroxix.

As crowds huddled by a tiny television set up at a corner table, watching footage from St. Ark, a lone twenty-year-old sat at the bar. Under normal circumstances, he was under the drinking age. But since tensions were high at the climax of the war, the barkeeper didn't mind the young man grabbing a drink. He looked very stressed out.

Grant Tillings sat at the bar, gazing at the live footage from St. Ark. The cameraman panned the camera to the air, focusing on a Su-35 soaring in the air above the rebel capital.

"It's the Phoenix!" shouted the reporter as cheers were heard from the crowd massed around the television.

The aircraft swooped down the main street of St. Ark, soaring toward the rebel HQ, an old legislative building.

Tillings gasped as the firebird picked off each SAM around the building, opening the headquarters for attack from the air.

The son could feel his father on the building. The last letter he wrote to his son, which was remarkably not censored, revealed that the rebels were converting the landmark into a fortress, with snipers like the Serpent on the balcony, anti-tank guns surrounding the premises, and the interior of the governmental complex packed to the brim with ammunition.

A fatal mistake.

As The Phoenix soared for one final attack, he let loose four missiles, each breaching the concrete walls of the building and exploding inside. The explosion from the missiles spread from the exterior into the interior, igniting the ammunition inside.

The Phoenix had created a fireball. The entire building exploded, turning the rotunda at the top into rubble and blowing bits of everything into the air.

His father was on the rotunda.

Grant Tillings looked down, releasing a single tear from his eye and clutching the last letter from his father in his hand.

The crowd around the TV screamed in joy, seeing an image of their enemy finally crumble. The end of the war was nigh.

The barkeep, who was watching the footage with his arm around his wife and his toddler daughter, noticed Tillings crying by the bar.

The barkeeper's faith laid in the Allied Forces, but he recognized the grief of someone who knew people with the rebels. San Salvacion was a city divided on the issue, and most were tolerant of others' allegiances.

The barkeep approached Tillings, putting an arm around his shoulder. "We've all lost somebody, kid," consoled the proprietor of the Sky Kid Cafe, Pub and Restaurant.

"Thank you," answered Tillings.

"Let's just hope we won't let it happen again," advised the barkeeper.

Tillings glanced at the tear-soiled letter. It will happen again.

September, 2000

Farbanti, Erusea

Soundtrack: "Net-Zone| Ace Combat 7 Fan made OST (Erusea Storm)" on YouTube

Karl Mecke sat at a simple burgundy swivel chair behind a massive mahogany desk. His hands were mechanically typing at a keypad as characters appeared on his computer monitor. The title of the document he was working on was "Analyzation of Ustian Air Attack on Belkan Anti-ICBM Laser System 'Excalibur'."

It was a work he had been writing for quite a while now. Him being a former Belkan citizen himself, the events of the Belkan War were always an interest to him. Especially since he predicted the war and the use of what he called "superweapons" to change the tide of the war. But that was a life now gone. He had defected to Erusea just before the Belkan invasion, much to the dismay of the Belkan Air Force. The entire country was using his strategies of invasion, but only he recognized that they would fail and fled to the Usean continent.

Now, he was a colonel in the Federal Erusian Air Force. Interesting change.

As he closed a paragraph on the "Demon Lord" that pulled the "Sword of Tauberg", he leaned back in his chair. Honestly, he was just doing this for fun. He had heard that Erusea was giving him a special assignment soon, and was eagerly waiting for it passing time with some writing. He had struggled with meaning for quite some time, maybe fighting for this country would get it.

Someone gently wrapped on his office door with four quick, quiet knocks.

"Come in," answered Mecke.

As a suited figure opened the door, Mecke could see that it was not one person, but three, entering: two guards and one officer. The guards were the suited men, wearing black sunglasses and earpieces, as well as carrying 9mm pistols in their holsters. One of the guards carried a long, black tube slung around his shoulder. The officer...err, Mecke was mistaken. The man bore a military uniform but carried no rank. He certainly wasn't enlisted, that much was sure.

The party entered the room, with one of the guards quietly and deftly closing the door behind him. The "officer" sat down at a folding chair in front of Mecke's desk.

"Good morning, Colonel. I'm sorry to interrupt your work, but I'm here to give you details on your new mission."

Mecke leaned forward, gazing the "officer" in the eyes. The man had black, trimmed hair, thick dimples, and eyes that carried an uneasiness to them. Erusian Intelligence. Those guys were as secretive as they were deadly. The last time Mecke had conferred with them was when he defected, as they provided him background to ease into life in Erusea. They scared him then, they scared him now. Spooks.

Mecke answered quietly, "Sure, go ahead. May I know your name and rank?"

The false officer grinned, furthering Mecke's uneasiness. "You know the answer to that question."

Mecke nodded. Spooks indeed.

The man in front of Mecke gestured to the guard with the tube, instructing him to place it on Mecke's desk. The guard unscrewed the top of the tube and pulled out a large, blue piece of paper. Blueprints.

As the guard rolled the blueprint onto Mecke's desk, weighing it down with his hands, Mecke knew what he was looking at.

The top view showed a large, circular complex with 8 buildings arrayed around it. In the center was another circle.

The buildings arrayed around the circle were not necessarily buildings. They were cannons. It was Stonehenge.

Mecke looked up from the blueprints. "Stonehenge. What about it? I already submitted my analysis of it to command."

The spook put his hands together. "Yes, we know. Using Stonehenge as an anti-air weapon."

Mecke rested his hands on the desk. "So, what do you want from me?" This was getting scary. Perhaps Mecke "knew too much". Geez.

The spook exhaled deeply and put his pointer fingers together, pointing them in the air. "This...is some of the most confidential information in Erusea right now. You are not to tell a soul about this. Not your friends, not your family, not your even your god when you pray at night."

"Good. I don't have any of those," answered Mecke.

"Fair enough. If you tell anyone about this, you know what we'll have to do."

Mecke nodded.

"Erusea is planning on invading San Salvacion and taking Stonehenge from the FCU. If the other nations of Usea retaliate, we will be able to stop their air forces with Stonehenge, thanks to your plans. We have our top engineers working on this."

Mecke leaned back in his chair, taking in a deep breath. This was the second time that a nation had taken his ideas of utilizing "superweapons" to fight air forces.

"Now, according to your stratagem as well as well as our plans, Stonehenge has its weaknesses. It's our job to keep them a secret from any enemy forces. The key to its weaknesses, as you pointed out, lie in the opening stages of a conflict. If we can decimate our enemy's air forces within the first few months of the conflict, air supremacy will be guaranteed."

Mecke nodded. "That's right."

"So, the Erusean Agency for State Security as well as the Erusean Government has decided that the best plan of action is to lead our enemy into a single all-out attack on Stonehenge. If they do not know the weakness, their forces will be annihilated and Erusea will have air supremacy over all of Usea."

Mecke commented, "Sheesh, it sounds like you're planning to take on all of Usea."

The spook chuckled with an air of evil to it. "We would never attempt something so bold."

"So, why are you telling me these things? It sounds like you've got it all planned out."

The spook once again grinned, showing that he knew much more than Mecke ever would. "Because you're part of that plan."

Mecke stood wide-eyed. Getting involved with espionage?

"Well, you certainly look intrigued. But know that we absolutely need you for this."

Mecke wasn't sure if that was a threat or not. "Shoot."

"Alright. Your job is to infiltrate the enemy as a pilot from the Twinkle Islands. There, you will hint at knowing things about Stonehenge, but never the entire story. You will make your case believable and advise an all-out attack on Stonehenge. There, you can desert the enemy and come back to us. You'll be flying for them, so deserting should be quite easy."

"The Twinkle Islands? How will they believe I'm not a spy? They're an independent country, right?"

"That's true, but we back their Air Force. In fact, we are their Air Force. All their aircraft as well as economic support comes from us. Sometimes we provide pilots. Sending you wouldn't be very special. When we take over the Twinkle Islands, yes, there will be suspicions. But we'll make sure those suspicions are quelled."

This whole situation astonished Mecke. He would be actively fighting for a side, actively supporting a nation. It was something he never really felt before.

"I'll do it," answered Mecke, though there was still an air of uncertainty to the whole situation.

The spook once again grinned an evil smile. "Good. We will meet you tomorrow and start your training in espionage." The spook gestured to the second guard, who opened his coat and pulled out a stereotypical manilla folder. "Here is your new identity, Captain Tyler Faulkner."

December 24, 1995

Somewhere in former Belka, now disputed territory

Christmas Eve. A time for spending time with friends, family, and compatriots. Tomorrow, the holiday would be skipped in favor of a more important operation.

Less than a hundred years ago during the First Osean War, the two sides met each other on Christmas day, exchanging gifts, telling stories of loved ones, and even playing games together. No break from hostilities would happen tomorrow, thought Larry Foulke.

Thinking of the Christmas Truce of the Osean War, Larry once again questioned his purpose in A World with No Boundaries. It was a thought that had crossed his mind a couple times, and thinking of this act of humanity in the midst of supreme devastation took his thoughts even more.

Then, Larry remembered what happened the day after the Christmas Truce. The men went back to their trenches and resumed killing each other, all thanks to a conflict started by borders.

The former-Ustian mercenary looked down at his food, bland MREs confiscated from the Belkans.

He was in the mess hall of a makeshift base in the Waldreich Mountains. It wasn't even named yet, but it had to remain out of view for secrecy. It reminded Foulke of Valais a bit. Snow pattered on the runway just as it did in Ustio, and the only sanctuary was inside.

In the center of the hall was his entertainment, two people surrounded by the enlisted men of the base as well as some of the pilots. In the middle of the horde of AWWNB members was a woman, the only one on the base. She wore a vibrant red dress and a pink flower in her hair. It was an interesting contrast. Her dress itself looked like a rose, embodying her in an essence of nature.

She was a rose herself, and as many new members of AWWNB found out, she carried thorns. She was a heck of a pilot, her thorns being her amazing abilities in combat. They could be tamed by only one, a man in a bright Sapinish uniform sitting on a table, a worn guitar in his hands.

Her name was Marcela Vasquez, but her lover and commander Alberto Lopez called her Macarena. To Foulke's knowledge, it wasn't after the song, it was about a story from Sapinish folklore. But he didn't delve into it too much.

In A World With No Boundaries, all pasts were ejected. Pilots who once were enemies now united under a single cause: eliminating the borders that start wars in the first place. Their pasts were just reminders of the political wars they now hated so much, so they weren't talked about.

Foulke looked back at Vasquez, as she spun around to the music of Lopez, who was strumming a slow, romantic tune. Lopez was an excellent guitar player and even wrote music from time to time. As for a pilot, Foulke found Lopez lacking. He chose to pilot a J35, a decision he made for nostalgia's sake. It was a decision Foulke knew would be fatal.

Cipher would have no pity on him.

As the song came to a close, clapping was heard throughout the crowd, including some from Foulke. It was good to get entertainment at a time like now.

Lopez stood up, his guitar slung around his shoulder. "Gracias, friends. This next song that Macarena and I will be performing is a new one I've written about the moves of our enemies. I was thinking about the Belkan citizens of the Waldreich Mountains...their sorrow caused by political strife of corrupt politicians and generals hundreds of miles away from them. Their lives, now destroyed by nuclear weapons at ground zero, are a testament to why we fight. Here is 'Zero'."

Lopez handed Vasquez a pair of brown castanets, placing them in her hands and looking deep into her eyes.

Foulke could read people pretty well, and he knew why both of these people were here. Lopez was a true fighter pilot and political activist. His passion for the cause was unending, apparent by the fact that he even wrote songs about it. It was well known in AWWNB that Anton Kupchenko was the brains, Joshua Bristow was the voice, and Alberto Lopez was the heart. Larry Foulke was probably the hand that carried out the most important actions. Foulke thought he wasn't as cocky as his former wingmate Cipher, but he knew that his skills as a pilot were unparalleled, even in this international organization of some of the best pilots in the world.

The question was, was he better than Cipher? He'd find out.

Foulke went back to looking at the pair, thinking about Vasquez's motivation. Staring into her eyes, Foulke could tell that it was one thing: love. Her devout love of Lopez was probably the only thing keeping her in AWWNB.

Soundtrack: "Ace combat zero Morgan~Zero" by amy3chico3 on YouTube

The two had started their performance, with Lopez opening with a serious and fast melody, taking a short pause at the end. Once the rest was over, Lopez began the main piece. Emotionally strumming the guitar, it appeared as though he was lost in his passions for the cause, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed.

Vasquez was rotating in a haze of red and yellow, the colors of Espada Squadron. In her hands, she clapped the castanets with Lopez's tune, creating an epic background to the melody.

Foulke thought this would make excellent dogfighting music.

Vasquez's dance reminded Foulke of her flying, an elegant maneuvering twist, her rose-colored dress reminding Larry of her Rafale. Perhaps that is how the two worked so well together in combat. Larry had seen their flying before-twisting together in a dance much like the one before him right now.

Foulke thought of his old partner. Sure, he was definitely not in love with Cipher, but there was a bond between the two. No matter where Pixy went, Cipher was soon to follow. Foulke smiled to himself. The two would meet, become one. Two pilots would enter, one would leave, maybe to death.

Pixy thought of what he might say to Cipher when they met again. The two hadn't talked since he defected. His mind went back to pleasant conversations he had once shared with the Ace, as he began to think of Cipher as a friend.

No! Sure, Larry thought Cipher was his buddy, but the fact that Cipher was standing by the powers that bombed Hoffnung was enough to kill the ace. Pixy could do it. Cipher was aggressive, but Pixy would have an ace up his sleeve, a secret Belkan fighter jet with astounding capabilities. Even the Demon Lord could not stand against Morgana, the Sorceress.

He would vaporize Cipher, either by laser or by the burst missiles loaded in its wings.

Pixy thought of defeating Cipher in battle. It would make him the greatest fighter pilot in the world.

He was getting too far ahead of himself.

Lopez ended the song with an excellent crescendo and a sharp sforzando note, punching the air around the group. Vasquez ended with her hands down at her side, still with the end, simultaneously stopping on the same note as her lover.

A rousing applause erupted from the room, as AWWNB members from all over the Osean continent and beyond. Larry Foulke stood up and gave the pair a standing ovation, a tear running down his cheek.

Yes, he would meet his rival. And it would be one hell of a fight.

A Year Later

Los Canas, Usea

It sure was, thought Larry Foulke as he gazed at the cityscape from his tiny apartment window in downtown Los Canas. Staring at the skyline, he noticed a few fighter jets flying in formation above him, F-5s.

His mind went back to Avalon. Not just his duel with Cipher, but what happened afterward. Each scene played back in his mind with vivid detail. He could draw an exact copy of the ADFX-02's cockpit if he wanted.

No, he thought. Going through the scene again never led anywhere. The secret to his problems lay not in his battle with Cipher, but what happened afterwards.

January 1, 1995

Somewhere in the Waldreich Mountains

Soundtrack: "Farruca. Sabicas. 1986" on YouTube by Canal Andalucia Flamenco

Foulke sat at a humble kitchen table in the center of a small farmhouse. The house he was in was decently large, with two floors and a farm out back. It was the closest thing he could get to. His chair faced a window at the back of the house, overlooking a village below over a snow-crested hill. The endless gray of the Waldreich Mountains stared him in the face, the very land that caused him to defect. The death, the pointlessness, and the lack of emotion.

"Here you are, sir," called a voice behind him. He turned around to face a young woman, her face showing no emotion save for a faint hint of a smile. Her curly, brunette hair flowed down her back and gave her a pleasant feel. She had openly welcomed Larry when she knocked on her door.

She placed a cup of tea down on the table, steam rising and carrying a tasteful aroma to Larry's nose.

"Thank you, ma'am."

The woman stood there, staring at the man in the flight suit. "I can't expect you to tell me everything, but could I ask why you're here? That leg of yours surely didn't happen in an accident," she said.

Larry looked at his feet, both elevated on a chair ahead of him with smarting pain. He had broken both legs in the fall...err...quick landing. Apparently, the Morgan's design didn't have the best parachute. Most Belkans would rather die in battle than eject, he figured.

"My name is Larry. I used to fly for Ustio, that's all I can say."

The woman pulled up a chair next to him, reclining in it. She seemed content and not alarmed at all that a pilot was now in her home, even one who flew for the Allied nations. "Nice to meet you Larry, I'm Amelia."

Foulke took a sip of the tea. Delicious! It reminded him of his old Belkan home, and his parents who had disowned him when he became a mercenary for Ustio. Good times.

"So...you flew for the Allies?" the woman asked.

Foulke perked his eyes up. Great. Now she probably hated him. "I can leave, if you'd like. Just get me a walking stick or…"

"No, no. It's fine. I don't care where you come from. Just about where you're going."

This struck Larry in the heart. "Well, technically I am Belkan."

"No, no, no! I told you that doesn't matter. I just need to know what you're planning to do."

Larry had just told this woman that he had betrayed Belka for money and yet she still cared for him. A fellow sympathizer for AWWNB, maybe.

"Could I ask you a couple questions first, about what you're saying about not caring?" said Larry.

"Go for it."

"Why do you not care? Are you...distrusting borders or something? Do you wish there were none?"

Amelia sighed. "I wish borders weren't here. I wish that all humanity could live together in harmony, and I wish that wars would not happen. But they're here for a bit more. So, we're going to have to deal with them a bit more. But, there is an action that extends beyond borders, is not bound by them, and is the thing that will eventually destroy them."

Larry leaned forward. This is where the chilli meets the cheese, as he always said. This woman seemed to have a deep understanding of the issue. It almost seemed like she had pondered the question more than even he did, or anyone else in AWWNB. Now she was going to tell him the solution to all of his problems.

"Love."

Larry leaned back and sighed. Of course it was love, geez.

"No, no! I'm serious! I know it's simple, but you AWWNB guys are complicating the problem too much!"

Holy crap, she knew what A World with No Boundaries was. This was serious.

"I swear, you guys make no sense," she began. "I've heard of your stuff before, and have agreed with it! Violence only leads to more violence!" Bloodshed is not stopped by shedding more blood!"

That was a line from one of the first pamphlets from AWWNB that Larry had read. He had recited some of it to PJ in the middle of a battle, once.

"And yet, you turned on that idea, didn't you?"

Larry sat silent in his chair.

Amelia exhaled deeply. "I never knew your specific plans, but I know that they were violent. I want you to see the error in that way. Sure, starting from zero would give humanity another chance, but how did you envision to start from zero?"

Larry started to see her point. "Violence. We were planning on nuking all capitals involved with the Belkan War."

"Violence indeed. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, Larry."

Larry stared out the window.

"Listen, Larry. I'll help you get on your feet and send you off, but please, stop the violence. That's what happens when violence is started," said Amelia as she gestured to the gray of the Waldreich Mountains.

Her voice was raised a lot from the quiet, hospitable voice that welcomed Larry into the house.

"I'm sorry, I...didn't mean to get angry. I just...lost my fiance to the nukes and I'm tired of it. I've...got a guest room near the front of the ground floor, I'll help you lie down on the bed and get you something to eat."

Larry stared at this anomaly, a woman grieved by death yet composing herself in love. "Thank you, Amelia. I really appreciate it."

1996

Los Canas

Foulke stood at the window, contemplating Amelia. She had nursed him to health, physically and emotionally. Spending a lot of time with her, she had convinced him that violence was not the option and even opened up an aspect inside of Larry that even he hadn't noticed before, his penchant for poetry.

Larry looked down at a desk, some of his recent work there.

"Without beginning or end, the ring stretches into the infinite."

Heh. Honestly, he hated that line. Last night he had a nightmare about his fight with Cipher and wrote it down in a haze. Maybe it would mean something eventually.

There was a knock on his door.

Pixy turned around from his contemplations and walked toward the door, opening it to see a Los Canas postman with a giant box.

"Larry Wheeler?" asked the postman.

"That's me," answered Foulke.

"I've got this package for you from a...Marcela Lopez all the way from Sapin. Do you know 'em?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know her."

"Alrighty, sign here please."

Larry signed a clipboard handed to him by the postman, claiming the package. While signing, the postman scooched the box into his apartment.

"Thank you sir, have a good night!" called the postman as he walked down the hallway to the stairs.

"You too," answered Larry as he reentered his apartment and examined the box. He knew exactly what it was.

After opening the box, Larry felt the furnished wood of a traditional Sapinish guitar, it's front worn by constant use by Alberto Lopez.

Wedged in between the strings was a note written in cursive. Larry was glad it wasn't in Sapinish.

Larry,

I see you're using the alias you mentioned before. Wheeler is a good name.

When I flew with you, I knew you were still asking questions and that you would seek answers for much of your life. This guitar gave Alberto answers, perhaps it will give you some.

-Macarena

Larry put the note back in the box and lifted up the guitar, resting it on his lap as he sat in a recliner chair in his living room.

It would take a while to learn to play, but Larry had time.

Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be back to the usual, the group going through the war. But! How will these pasts intertwine? Will Pixy's identity be revealed? Will Mecke's true intentions be found, his espionage acts against ISAF showing their true colors? Will Altman and Tillings become ISAF's greatest commandos? Will SkyEye still have an amazing voice? Definitely. Read the next chapter to find the answers to the other questions.