Ace

This was it. I woke up with a sense of knowing—I didn't have to check the calendar. This was it.

Lora had bartered with Striker for the past two weeks over staying on the ship. And even through our reconciliation, they both agreed she needed to leave. Lora was given the freedom to stay on the ship so long as she searched for work or housing elsewhere in the meantime.

I didn't want Lora to leave, but I knew it was for the best. The morning of her final departure, just another ordinary job search, I held her a little tighter, kissed her a little longer… She knew something was different, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Sometimes I wonder how you're going to survive without me here…"

I brushed back my hair with my hands, laughing. "You, uh… I'll be fine, Lora. You don't give me enough credit."

She nodded, kissing my cheek. I couldn't help but steal another kiss—with the potential of dying that day, could you blame me? She waved a cheerful little wave, and flashed a beaming grin in my direction, and left the ship. She didn't know that her potential job wouldn't survive—I'd paid the men to keep her off the ship that day…

I didn't want her to be there when it happened. I didn't want her to see her so-called family be taken down by her own lover… I would explain it to her later. I would win her over like I did before…

Striker passed by, resting a hand on my shoulder. "She'll be fine, mate…"

"Buck up, Acey!" Joe laughed, slapping his hand hard against my back.

I winced, stepping forward. "What's today's agenda?"

"We're passing Cyclonia… Care to say goodbye?" Striker laughed.

"Or hello…"

Joe froze. "What was that?" He began to laugh once more. "I couldn't here ya, Sky Knight!"

A low growl escaped my throat. He's gonna be the first to get it, I decided. If I was going to enjoy any part in such a sadistic act, it would be taking down that son of a bitch.

I put on a façade, grinning forcefully at the blond man.

"You hungry, Son?" Striker asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. I'm not entirely in the mood to eat."

"Ah… Girl troubles," he assumed. "I gotcha." He winked, stepping lightly out of the room. "Let me know if I can help you out, mate."

I nodded sarcastically, waving my hand through the air to dismiss him. I was not in a friendly mood, unless the topic was Lora. I wanted to go to sleep, and I wanted to wake up free from restraint. I'd dug my grave six feet further than necessary, and now I had to spend the rest of my life there.

I sat in my room until word of an attack. I didn't want to tip anyone off, nor did I want to wreck my already unstable nerves. I had to become the monster Anarchis anticipated I was. I had to become the monster Striker knew I could be… the monster I knew I was…

ooo

"What the hell…?"

"EVERYBODY OUT! CYCLONIAN ATTACK!"

Joe frantically ran from his room, past mine, into the helm, shouting, "SOP! ASAP! NINER, NINER! ENGAGE, ENGAGE!"

I smacked my head against the wall multiple times, the ink rubbing off against my skin. I wiped off my forehead and examined my walls for the last time. This was it. I fell back, watching my ceiling as it shook—they were firing at the ship…

Striker clung to my doorway. "Get up, Sky Knight."

"Why?" I asked, undetermined to move.

"Cyclonian Talon attack, that's why. We need everyone. LEUM!" he shouted, rushing into the lab.

I grabbed my keys off the nearby nightstand and slowly stood up, calming my nerves—impossible, yes, but it had to be done regardless.

I gripped onto the doorway and trailed my fingers along the walls as I walked nonchalantly to the Skimmers, trying my best to keep calm. Panicking about the attack—regardless of my side—would cause a sloppy job, and I couldn't afford that.

I leaned against Striker's bike and waited quietly as the team pulled their shit together. When Striker entered the room, another shot shook the ship, threatening to rip through its walls. "Let's go. Everyone, 4-2-51, do you understand? Protocal 4-2-51. No excuses."

Silence from the team showed uncertainty, yet uncontested compliance. They would do whatever it took.

Striker nodded and trailed the others off the ship. I grabbed my blade as a last-moment defense before climbing onto the bike behind my leader. We took off into the clouds, and I listened as he commanded my old comrades. Kale and Leum took formation 6, Joe and Striker were to follow formation 2. Before Striker had the chance…

I took mine.

I glanced toward the other talons, flashing up a familiar signal. They cornered off Joe and the others, giving me plenty of space. I gripped onto my blade, giving one last sigh.

"Where are they going…?" Striker contemplated, confused. Their actions had no rhyme or reason.

I stood up on the seat behind him, raising my blade. "Take us down," I demanded.

A slight glance in his rearview mirrors—nothing more—and Striker followed my command. I smiled.

"It was nice while it lasted, Sky Knight…"

He took the Skimmer as far down as it would go, landing in the wastelands. He climbed off the bike and faced the magma.

I kept a close distance, though I stayed farther from the edge than my former leader.

"You know… the day you joined the team, I knew you would be trouble. I just was never entirely sure how much trouble you would be… Ace, you're a good kid… but your heart has been corrupted by power. And with a mindset like that… you can never be a Sky Knight." He knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I've been keeping a close eye on you… I've watched your peculiar actions for the past month… Nothing seemed so out of the ordinary as how close you held Lora. No one else meant so much to you, and it seemed as if no one ever would."

I looked down—a sore spot.

"You'd never shown such compassion before. You were part of a team, Ace. You were part of our family. That feeling is required to be mutual, or the team will fall apart at the seams. You never returned our feelings." He took another step forward. "Illyra will be crushed when she hears of our defeat…"

"You anticipated this…"

"I have no doubt you will accomplish your mission. My team is smart enough to know when to back down. No matter how strong the hero, he must know in his heart when to step down and accept defeat." He took yet another step toward the molten rock.

"Illyra… She's dead," I forced. "Your precious son is safe… Joe? Your right-hand man?" I laughed. "His wife, Kana… she's dead. His kids? Gone. You understand the gravity of the situation…" I never anticipated his spitting image of a son to come out of it alive.

He nodded. "Ace… Aerrow will take my place in due time. You understand this, correct?" He knew he was going to die… The man never once mentioned death, however.

I flipped my blade in my hand. "I've planned for everything." I lifted the blade.

One chance of mercy… He spoke up with no expectations, "Push me in. At the very least, push me in. You don't have to go after the others…"

I wanted him to fight back. It was too easy! I'd prepared for every outcome except a willing soul. I never expected him to take his demise so easily.

I lurched forward, gripping Striker's collar. I pulled him back and forced him down. I glared back as he stared me dead in the eye. "You knew this was coming from day one, Lightning Strike. You never could trust me, and you were always spot-on with your instincts. You should've stood firm when you said no to the academy." I crouched over him, one knee on the hardened lava, and the other perched in the air.

His eyes were emotionless, regretless, and held no resent. He apologized, "I should've tried harder."

"Shut up and die…"I slashed his torso twice—deep. He wasn't dead, no. Not nearly.

Lightning Strike cried out in agony, but not once did he ask for help, or forgiveness. He took his sentence humbly. His head hung over the edge, his hair beginning to singe with the searing heat. He winced, involuntary tears streaming across his sullied face. I chucked my blade aside, ripping his pride, his honor—his headgear—from his head and tossed it aside as well. I searched desperately for another tool.

Too easy.

I grabbed a large, rounded, dry hunk of lava. I chucked it against the ground, smashing his foot. Striker cried out again, and I smiled. Suddenly, the sounds of pain and agony had grown from sickening to musical. I enjoyed it.

I wanted him to pay for all the jokes, all the trouble, all the disrespect… I deserved respect. I was human, I was breathing… I heard everything they said about me when I wasn't there. I wanted to get him back.

I looked around, in search of my blade. I pulled the trigger and watched as the crystal fueled the flame. A searing hot blade didn't guarantee a painless cut. In fact, the pain was ten times worse than a dull butter knife. I lowered the tip of the blade into the obsidian and dragged it through, cutting through his shoulder with ease. The rock turned into lava, cooling an instant later. I flicked my blade upward, the melted rock dripping from its core.

When his cries silenced, I realized he'd succumbed to his injuries. Static from his radio posed as fitting music for a dramatic farewell, but I wasn't finished—not just yet. I picked the boulder back up and screamed as I threw it back down, smashing in his skull.

Now I was done. Now I could leave things be…

I tossed his body into the river of magma and stood at the edge, watching him disappear, disintegrating like rice paper.

Although, through my selfish reasoning, revenge was not my only motive. I knew what Cyclonia would do to him if I chose not to do it myself. I showed him mercy. What they would've done to him was inhumane, even for Cyclonia. They would've locked him up in a cell covered with filth and disease. They would break him, again and again. They would bend his bones in directions humanly impossible and toss him back in that cell, bleeding and bruised. They would lock him in a freezer, covered in metal blankets. They would never think to mend his wounds… No one would hear him scream. And just when he couldn't take it anymore, they would beat him senseless again. And laugh… And they would toss him back into that cell every goddamn night.

When it was over, they would set him free, crippled, blind, and defenseless—always looking over his shoulder, always wondering when they would come back, and you know they would. And he would die at the hands of his prior captors, mercilessly.

I gave him that chance… I took him down quick. If I hadn't, no one would've shown him mercy, and even I couldn't bear that thought.

I took down Joe much the same. Back through the clouds, into the atmosphere, I went in search of my team. Sweating from the heat of the Wastelands, shaking from the adrenaline, I looked like I had been in a serious predicament. Luckily, that played in my favor. Back in range, Striker's radio picked up familiar voices.

"Come on, Striker! Answer me!" Leum called.

"Hey… Hey… It's Ace… Someone took down our Skimmer, one of the talons," I lied, a mischievous smile on my face. "Striker's down there… He told me to go, he wanted me to help you out."

For once, Joe didn't question his leader's decision regarding a child. "Sector four, 8-2-6-9. Go!"

I followed his formation demands and met Joe at the far corner of the Condor. Mara, manning the ship, kept his eye on the attackers, not his team. I was safe.

I threw up a hand, flashing another signal toward the oncoming talons. "Take him down," I silently instructed. I couldn't do it alone. I wanted Joe's Skimmer immobilized—I could handle the rest alone. And once Joe's Skimmer began to sputter and dive, I came to his 'rescue.'

He held out a hand, large blue eyes begging for help. I was too far away. I wouldn't have helped him anyway. Joe jumped ship, pulling his 'chute line in a moment's time. I quickly flew down to his level and leaned against the steering controls, watching him closely.

"….Ace…. It was you, wasn't it… You were the talon that took down Striker…"

I smiled, swinging my blade out. I cut his parachute in two, and when I knew he was well and gone, on the ground and immobilized, I landed. I stood over his motionless body and laughed.

I would enjoy this…

Nothing held me back—no morals, no bullshit. I wanted Joe dead from the first crack he made about me. Now, this was my chance to take back every last joke, every last piece of disrespect tossed my way. I tore Joe apart much like Striker.

I was stunned to find blood pouring from the first wound—the fall hadn't killed the blond bastard. I ripped his arm from his body brutally, not as clean cut as Striker's by any means. I chucked his arm into the lava and watched him closely. His chest no longer rose, nor fell. He was gone, yet my instincts told me to continue, they told me to rip him to shreds.

I lugged his body over to the edge, wading him into the lava up to his waist. I propped him up with his own crossbow, jamming it through his chest. The blood flash-boiled as it hit the lava.

I sat back and watched as he began to burn. I was satisfied. Joe got every bit back that he spit out at me… Everything he deserved… When his lower-half separated from his upper-half, there wasn't enough to keep him in the lava, and he fell in. I stood up and ripped the crossbow from the rock, grasping one of his remaining arrows. I shot it into a nearby rock—with a less than desirable aim—and hung his goggles from it; a fitting grave marker, I decided.

I searched the area for scattered debris, picking up Striker's headgear along the way. I sat back down by his Skimmer and sighed. Now that my selfish motivation was accomplished, I felt there was nothing else keeping me fighting the war.

The talons would take care of the Condor and the others… Why would I be needed? I did my job—I destroyed the Storm Hawks. That's what I would report to Master Anarchis… She wouldn't contest it, not with their blood staining my uniform. But I rose to my feet. I clung onto his headgear and stuffed it into his Skimmer, taking off back into the clouds.

I took my rightful place at the head of the group, riding a more than fitting Switchblade. I sent Striker's Skimmer into the wastelands with the rest of them. When Leum caught my eye, I knew that was the last time my old team would see me as a Storm Hawk. I stood up on my Switchblade and jammed the anticipated Firebolt in place.

The fight was over before it even begun.

"Take down the Condor," I instructed. The talons were at my beck and call, and the Condor was down in mere moments.

I took the Switchblade on an alternate route, keeping watch at the coastline of Lynn. I noted we had an audience… I sat up from my slumped position and decided that an audience of one was no better than no audience at all. I would take care of the miniscule problem.

At a decent altitude, I jumped from the Switchblade and abandoned it in the air, landing on the ground in one swift motion. The face of the bystander was one I never hoped to see. Not now, not like this.

"That's his blood, isn't it," she stated plainly.

I laughed, standing up straight. "Not only," I contested.

Lora reached into her bag, chucking a piece of metal my direction. "You'll need this." Her voice was cold and unconcerned. She'd lost all respect for me. It wasn't a matter of resentment or anger… I'd blown my last chance. There was no winning her back this time.

I assumed the role of monster and stepped forward. "They had to die."

"Of course they did." She gripped the metal disk inserted into her armor, throwing it to the ground. "I don't need that anymore… I doubt it'll be much use to anyone, now."

I stepped forward, examining her Storm Hawks insignia, alongside the rusted piece of metal she'd tossed my way. I leaned over, picking it up. It was the headgear Lora had so kindly made me at the Velocity race… I'd denied it then, but now…

"It suits you… Monster…" Her emotions began to rise. I could sense the tears, I could feel the burning anger, I could feel the rising tension.

"Thanks," I laughed, placing it atop my head. This was a symbol of everything I had gained, and everything I lost. It never left my sight.

She shifted in her tracks, her blade swinging left, then right, on her back.

I rubbed my neck, watching her as she stood there, silently.

"Why?" she asked quietly, choking back tears. "WHY? You planned this… YOU DECEIVED US ALL! You lied to me…" She quickly stepped toward me. "You told me you loved me!" The tears fell freely—uncontrollably—as she took a grip on my left arm.

"You… told me you loved me.. HOW COULD YOU?" In one swift motion, she shattered my arm. She ripped the skin, she fractured the bone, and rendered my arm useless. The pain was enough to bring any man down, but I had to stay standing. I couldn't go down like this.

I couldn't show her the weakness she craved.

"You're not human…" She poked at my chest. I winced, grimacing through my evident agony. "No human could tolerate such sadism without going mad."

"Mad…," I breathed. "We're all… mad…"

She shoved me forward and I lost my grip on my shattered arm, my fingers digging into the damaged skin. I screamed. I fell to the ground. Lora stepped forward and slammed her foot down onto my arm, twisting it back and forth. "You're nothing!" she screamed. "You're pathetic! Worthless!"

I laid there and continued to scream, continued to cry out. The pain was unbearable. Blood began to seep from my arm, showing the true nature of how much damage was done.

Her foot moved. She crushed my elbow under her foot, and my bones easily gave way. I screamed again. "And you think this will give you power…? You think they're going to treat you any better over there? Cyclonia is a place of master manipulators! They don't care about you… They… they want what they want… and they will use whoever they have to just to get it! You're a pawn!"

She stepped back, looming over me as I bit back the pain—quite unsuccessfully. "You were fooled… You were easily tricked… Just as easily as you tricked me… You had me played the whole time, didn't you?"

"NO!" I cried. "I… I tried… I tried to pull… p-pull you in… I tri-ied to get you m-mixed up in-n the cat-tas-strophe… I could-n't. I… I jus…just couldn't… I l-loved y-you en-nough to kn-know where to s-stop…"

"Bull. Shit." Lora laughed through her tears. "Bullshit! You can't lie to me, Ace. No one can lie to me!"

I forced a smile. No one could ever lie to Lora… She was too smart…

"I'm done," she decided. "I've had my say and I'm done…" Lora turned on her heels and began to leave.

I forced myself, through the pain and agony, to sit up. I wanted to call out to her, I wanted her to come back… but there was no use, now… It was over.. I gripped my bleeding arm tighter in agony, watching her walk away. I glanced at the Storm Hawks emblem on the ground as the Atmos began to shutter, the Condor falling through the clouds.

And she shouted back, "I'll be the memory you wish you could forget, and the one you can never erase. Goodbye, Dark Ace… I hope you're happy."