Author's note. Hello everyone, I have made a critical mistake. Ignore a week has passed since Van Persie crash-landed. I was very stupid and forgot radiation existed. Pretend that Vestal when down to the canteen the same day Van Persie arrived. I have edited the part now. It shouldn't be too much of a difference.

Lt. Jack Van Persie. Callsign 'Sabre'

7th Advanced Fighter Squadron. Callsign 'Lancer'

15/3/2023 – 13:59 Zulu time

Near Tehran, Iran

Operation Valkyrie. Secure Air Superiority over Tehran

The eight F-16 Vipers soared through the skies, penetrating what little cloud cover there was over the skies of Iran. Lieutenant Van Persie adjusted his helmet to scratch and ruffle his short brown hair. Van Persie was a seasoned pilot, along with all the other pilots in the 7th. Although Van Persie was the youngest pilot in the squadron, only at twenty-three, however, most regarded him as a real talent. He only has two confirmed kills, but the squadron saw the wild maneuvers he performed when the occasional dogfight occurred or when he had to evade a missile.

"Lancer Squadron," A welcoming voice echoed across the network. It was the AWACS operator, callsign 'Sky Watch'. "continue flight path, your ETA is twenty minutes," he stated in a formal tone. "After Valkyrie, I'll book a table at this nice restaurant back in Kuwait,"

"You're too good to us Sky Watch," Van Persie jokingly responds with his slight Dutch accent. Van Persie focuses his attention on the instruments of his Viper, carefully noting each of the instruments' measurements. Over the many sorties, Van Persie and the rest of Lancer Squadron built very close rapport. He regarded each pilot within the Squadron as a close friend, including Sky Watch. After all, nobody else could understand each other. The squadron leader, Lancer-1, was Rapier. Jian, Falchion, Cutlass, Krabi, Claymore, Katana and Sabre followed up respectively.

"Hey Sabre," Cutlass's voice spoke out. Her soft and sweet voice filled the Lancer Squadron's ears with warmth. Everybody in Lancer Squadron adored her. Everyone thought she would quit the air force and become a professional singer. She had the popularity, boasting a large number of followers on social media but she decided to stay, even though her enlistment had expired. "Since this is probably our last mission, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know to be honest. I want to go back home to the Netherlands but most probably I'll stay here," Van Persie replied. "What about you Cutlass?"

"Sing," she replied.

"Hey Cutlass, make sure we get free tickets," Rapier's authoritative voice boomed. Rapier was considered an 'old guard' with over thirty years of service, starting in the Gulf War. The old veteran was almost fifty-four, but he showed no signs of slowing down.

"Hahaha will do Lancer 1-1," Cutlass responded.

Lancer Squadron raced towards Tehran, super-cruising at an altitude of three thousand meters. The day was very gloomy and overcast. The dark sky coupled with the clouds and rain made it difficult to fly. The Squadron was split into two 'finger four' formations. Rapier, Falchion, Krabi and Katana made the 'finger four' formation on the right side while the others were on the left. To avoid confusion, Rapier led Lancer 1 while Jian flew with Lancer 2. Lancer Squadron was rapidly approaching the area of operations and each pilot checked through their weapons. Van Persie's Viper was equipped with six of the newest variants of the excellent AIM-9X Sidewinder and three new AIM-260 JATMs. These new JATMs are the latest beyond-visual-range air-to-air-missile, with a maximum range of 200km and a maximum speed of Mach 5. However, the overcast weather limits the capabilities of Fox 2s and 3s.

"Lancer Squadron be advised two radar contact closing in fast," Sky Watch warned.

"Here we go," Rapier said. Only just seconds later, cannon fire shook Van Persie's and Claymore's Vipers.

"Bandits!" Van Persie announced over the network and he along with Claymore and Lancer 2 banked at a 60-degree angle and turned left while four enemy Su-30s screeched past.

"Lancer 2 engage! Break left, break left." Jian ordered. Lancer 2 completed the turn and saw that the four SU-30s broke formation with each jet flying in different directions.

"Lancer 2, the bogeys are splitting up, marking them on your HUD," Sky Watch said. Seconds later, Van Persie saw his target with a green box overlay, marking that Su-30 as his target.

"Bandit sighted, engaging," Van Persie said with the other pilots of Lancer 2 echoing similar words.

"Go get them!" Sky Watch said.

Van Persie's Viper jolted right, and he flew towards the clouds. Van Persie activated the afterburners to catch up to the supermaneuverable Su-30. Van Persie was closing the gap and he tried for a missile lock, but the clouds made it very difficult to do so. Van Persie fired a burst of cannon, but it all missed. Twisting and turning through the clouds, the F-16 and Su-30 finally pierced through the cloud over, climbing over four thousand meters. The sunlight shone through the canopies of the jets causing Van Persie to blink. He quickly adjusted his eyes and visor and he noticed that the Su-30 that he was chasing was odd. First of all, it had a metallic grey colour scheme, but the wingtips were painted orange. It couldn't be a plane from the Iranian air force as the colour scheme looks nothing alike.

"Wow, these guys are good," Cutlass stated. "I can't keep up with this guy,"

"Probably mercenaries," Claymore replied.

"Splash one!" Jian announced. He switched his afterburner off and toggled the Fox 2 again, hoping to get a tone on the Su-30. The Su-30 tilted its nose, and Van Persie thought he would climb again, but suddenly, the Su-30 stalled. The enemy has just performed a cobra maneuver and now, the Su-30 was on the tail of Van Persie.

"Watch it Sabre! Bogey on your six!" Sky Watch worriedly called out.

"Fuck. I should've seen that coming." Van Persie responded. Van Persie turned towards his left and the Su-30 followed. Coming out of the turn, the Su-30 performed a barrel roll and suddenly, the missile warming system blared in the cockpit.

"Missile. Missile." The mechanism said.

"Sabre, enemy has got a lock!" Sky Watch warned. The beeping intensified as the missile was launched. Van Persie countered by deploying chaff and flares and the missile veered off course. Van Persie tilted the F-16's nose upwards and turned leftwards, bleeding his speed and catching his opponent off guard. The Su-30 tried copying the maneuver, but Su-30 was too fast and couldn't stay behind the F-16. The Su-30 overshot the F-16 and landed directly in the crosshairs of Van Persie as they came out of the turn. Whilst in the turn, the Su-30 deployed chaff and flares ad Van Persie acquired a missile lock. He fired another burst of cannon, but it missed as the Su-30 banked and turned left. Van Persie followed the Su-30 in the turn, getting a tone.

"Fox 2!" He announced. The missile flew at a blistering speed to the Su-30. The Su-30 tried to climb vertically but the missile connected, and the jet exploded.

"Splash one bandit!" Van Persie announced. Van Persie levelled the jet and scanned the area using his radar, but he did not see any enemies nor friendlies. He dived through the clouds back towards the ground. His jet was showered with rain as he descended.

"Cutlass watch out! On your six!" Van Persie frantically says.

"I know! I can't shake him and I'm out of flares!" She responds. Van Persie activates the afterburner and toggles for fire a Fox 3. Cutlass was approximately eight hundred meters away from Van Persie's position. Sky Watch logically marked the enemy Su-30 that was currently chasing Cutlass on Van Persie's HUD. The Fox 3 was in range, and now he waited for an opening.

"Cutlass Fox 3!" He announced and the missile fired away. A few moments later, the missile connected onto the target and it exploded. The enemy pilot must've been fixed on shooting down Cutlass, he must've ignored the missile warnings. But Van Persie found that highly unlikely but still plausible. "Splash two,"

"Thanks, Sabre, you saved my ass," a shaken Cutlass said.

"Comes with the job," he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

"Lancer 2, all bandits splashed, nice job. Return to Lancer 1," Sky Watch said.

Lancer 2 was flying in the finger four formation alongside Lancer 1. They rendezvoused together and now they were flying over a war-torn Tehran. The rain and clouds had cleared up now and it was replaced by a brown sky, mirroring the desert-like climate below Lancer Squadron. The skies over Tehran were swarming with friendly jets, be it F-18s from the navy or other F-15s, F-16s, F-35s and the occasionally F-22 and a lot of A-10s. From the sight of all the fighter jets in the sky, Van Persie knew that this was the last operation of the war. Coalition forces threw all of their available air wings into Tehran. Sky Watch checked his radar but there were no enemy signatures on the radar.

"This is Command, be advised, we have a potential situation," a voice from high command spoke. Van Persie was confused as this aired overall coalition networks. "Seal Team Six has located a potential nuclear device in the House of Leadership. NEST teams are on the way. All forces must fall back to the south,"

"What?" Van Persie said over the network.

"You heard Command, let's get out of here," Rapier responded. Van Persie banked left and turned around. For good measure, he activated his afterburner and the entire air force over Tehran retreated. Helicopters picked up their soldiers and attempted to fly to safety and ground vehicles turned around and accelerated at full speed towards the exits.

"All coalition forces be advised; we have a confirmed nuclear threat in the city. NEST teams are on-site and attempting to disarm. I repeat, we have a confirmed nuc-." A colossal and earthshattering explosion was heard cutting all communication channels, followed by a blinding flash. Van Persie looked back and saw it. The mushroom cloud. The shockwaves emitted from the detonation site quickly spread, engulfing everything. The wave of destruction destroyed everything in its wake. Suddenly, Van Persie's F-16 shook violently and most of the electrical systems and the engine were destroyed. The master warning alarm blared, and the jet fell from the sky. Van Persie tried to reign in his Viper, but it proved futile. Nevertheless, he continued with the struggle and he, along with dozens of other planes plummeted towards the ground. The alarm kept blaring, breathing intensified, and seconds later, Van Persie and his prized F-16 collided into the street. Van Persie slowly opened his eyes, somehow, he wasn't instantly killed in the crash. The canopy was completely smashed in but there was a small enough hole to escape. Van Persie managed to unbuckle his safety belt and he removed his oxygen supply. He painfully crawled out. The sky was this disgusting mix of this desert brown mixed with splashes of atomic fire. The winds generated by the nuclear blast picked up radioactive chunks of dust and blew it everywhere. Van Persie lifted himself and limped forward, with no real goal. The only audible sounds were the wind whistling, crackles of radio transmissions, sparks from electrical devices sparkling along with his and other scattered soldiers' suffering (the gasping for air, the coughing and the sounds of eventual death). As Van Persie limped through the destroyed city, he saw bodies of coalition soldiers, either lying on the floor, dying or already dead, or others like him; wandering around aimlessly until they succumb to their mortal wounds. His mind turns on autopilot and stumbles forward for a few more meters before he keeled over and collapsed to the ground. He tries to crawl forwards, but he grips something in his right hand. Mustering all of his remaining strength, he brings it to his eyes and examines it. It's a cube, a perfect cube. Van Persie grips it tighter and suddenly; it flashes a brilliant blue light before fading out. Van Persie feels the energy and life rapidly draining from his body. His time is up. His last action was to roll around and stare directly into the mushroom cloud before the flash of white light overflows in his eyes.

"Open your eyes," an angelic voice echoed. Suddenly, Van Persie's body jolted upwards. He checked his surroundings and saw all but an empty field of grass with only one tree. He gasps for air desperately and violently coughs. He looks down at his body and hands. His flight suit is horribly charred and some parts of his hands and exposed skin suffered terrible radiation burns. He weakly stepped forward, but his legs were too weak to support him and he fell to the ground. Van Persie looked around and saw the bliss of his surroundings. Bright green grass, the sound of birds chirping, flowers blooming. This was what Van Persie imagined heaven to be. He looked up and finally saw a peaceful blue sky.

"What is this? Heaven?" Van Persie said aloud.

"Your destiny," The same voice echoed out.

"Destiny? What destiny?" Van Persie said.

"The Wisdom Cube sought you out,"

"Wait, you mean that?"

"Close your eyes again. your true purpose. Destiny awaits." The voice spoke out. Van Persie's eyes began to overflow with the same white light.

"Warning. Warning. Warning," a plane's warning system cried out. The warning system shook Van Persie awake. He ripped open his eyes and saw that he was in his destroyed F-16 somehow. The canopy was shattered, and his electrical instruments and systems were blown out. Van Persie saw he was on approach to land next to a large complex made up of five buildings. It looked like a luxury beach resort as the surroundings were what someone would call a beach paradise. Instinctively he lowered a destroyed landing gear attempted to land. His F-16 took a nuclear blast and somehow it was still flying. Seconds later, he impacted into the ground, churning up grass, dirt and concrete. The jet slammed through a gate and crashed into a fountain with a golden anchor, stopping right in front of it. Van Persie coughs blood onto his flight suit as he attempted to remove his safety belt. After multiple attempts, it loosens and Van Persie climbs out of the destroyed canopy and stumbles around, gasping for air. His vision fogs as he stumbles around. Suddenly, he saw three figures run up to him. The man is wearing some sort of white uniform and he couldn't make out who the others were. Suddenly, Van Persie collapses and falls to the ground. The man and the other two figures appear to call for help but his vision fades out.

The Azur Lane base, a remarkable feat of cooperation of once hostile nations. Their main base of operations is located in Hawaii as it acts as a strategic point in the Pacific. Their main enemy the 'Sirens' have established themselves somewhere in the pacific. The Siren War has reached a standstill as the Sirens lack the power projection to launch a major offensive while Azur Lane has been hesitant to push their advantage and after the betrayal of some members, the Azur Lane faction also needed time to bind their wounds. The Commander of the coalition, Commander Nicholas King, a very charismatic man, but a poor and idiotic commander. The ships under his command did not mind the incompetence as his charm offensives compensated. Furthermore, King did not lead any of his ships into battle as the 'phoney war' lasted over a year. He was only transferred a month after it started! Commander King was at his desk, filling paperwork, with his secretary Enterprise and a faithful Belfast watching over. King and the others then heard what sounded like loud screeches and they felt the foundations shaking. Enterprise and Belfast summoned their rigging and King froze due to a large amount of adrenaline that was dumped on him. Enterprise moved towards the window and saw that a rather strange airplane has just crash-landed in front of the base. It looked like Siren technology, but it felt human, in some way. Additionally, Enterprise saw writings on some of the areas of the plane, further indicating that it was a human creation. The trio rush out of the main building (situated in the center, in front of the fountain) and ran towards the wreckage where they found a strange man wearing an even stranger set of clothes. The first thing they noticed was the horrible damage the man, along with the clothes suffered. It was almost as if the man has just escaped hell.

"Are you ok?" King shouted. The man approached King and his first thought was this man towered over him. The man then stumbled back and fell backwards. King and the others crouched over.

"We need to get him to the infirmary now!" Enterprise said. "Belfast, help me with carrying him." Belfast rushed to the other side and they both grabbed the sides of the chest and legs. Both of the women lifted the lightweight man (for ships) and ran towards the infirmary. Vestal was quietly humming away in the medical bay, with no patients, she knew it was a good sign but inevitably, she grew restless. All of a sudden, the door flings open and Belfast along with Enterprise rush in.

"What's the matt- oh my god," Vestal says. He immediately switches to her doctor mentality. She grabs a pair of scissors and her first move was to cut his flight uniform open to see the damage to the skin. "What has this man been through!" Vestal says after disbelief.

"He looks like he's just walked through hell," King added.

"His clothes saved most parts of his body that took all of the damage, but some parts of his skin have suffered horrendous third-degree burns. Nothing like I have never seen before,"

"Can you treat it?"

"Well, I don't know, I'll see what I can do. Please call Akashi,"

"Yes, understood," King said.

Both Akashi and Vestal worked frantically to save the man. They had never treated someone this severely injured. Critical advancements in medicine and technology were not made yet but worst of all, Vestal did not even know what caused the severe burns. During the evening Vestal left the infirmary to the dining hall as she was feeling hungry. The dining hall was this massive room capable of feeding hundreds of people at once. The dining hall wasn't particularly decorated. It was just a wooden room with a large modern kitchen and a very nice and large balcony, overlooking the beach and ocean. The only decorations put up were some pictures of the Azur Lane coalition. Of course, there were tables and chairs scattered everywhere but the lack of decoration was to remain impartial to the different factions. Each faction had its separate quarters with its own flair. The Royal Navy with their luscious gardens and their tea parties, the Iron Blood with their brewery and their renowned bar and so on. Vestal walked up to the buffet and selected some of the food Nevada, King George V and Yat-Sen prepared. It was late and only a few of the ship-girls were present. The rest were either partying with the commander or had other errands to run. Vestal miserably sat down and began to dig into her food: spicey fried rice along with glass noodles from Yat Sen's homeland, the Dragon Empery.

"Hey Vestal," A voice called out. Vestal swallowed the chunk of rice and then turned around to see Z23 or Nimi as she was nicknamed.

"Hi Nimi," Vestal said. Her tone was low and not enthusiastic.

"How is that man in the infirmary?"

"His status hasn't changed. He's on the cusp of death but he's still alive somehow. I've tried every treatment, but nothing is working. I don't even know what happened to him,"

"Is he in a coma?"

"I don't know," Vestal said with a large degree of uncertainty. "How is that party that the commander is hosting?" Vestal asked, trying to change the subject.

"He knows how to party, I'll give him that," Nimi said with a smile, looking down. "You should come and decompress,"

"There should be a last hail marry before I give up,"

"Give him a wisdom cube or something," Nimi proposed. Vestal then dropped her fork into the plate of food. The wisdom cube has healing properties for ship-girls or 'kansen' and has the capability of creating new life.

"Thank you, Nimi!" Vestal cried out. Vestal then ran off to Akashi's shop. When she arrived, she noticed Akashi sitting behind the counter, staring at the new batch of shipments that had just recently arrived from high command. "Akashi, I need a wisdom cube!"

"Nyaa?"

Van Persie felt something in his right hand. He slowly opened his eyes and a bright light shone in his eyes. He then regained his senses and his eyes adjusted to the sudden change of scenery. From a nuclear detonation to a grassy field, then to a hospital…? The room was white and smelled of disinfectants and medicine. He looked down at his body and saw that it was covered with a blanket. He looked around and saw that there were curtains placed on his sides. On his right side, looked a primitive IV drip bag hung up on a metal pole. Oddly, there were no modern hospital appliances such as a heart rate monitor. Even the hospital bed felt like it was just an ordinary bed with no luxuries. He tried moving his right arm, but he cried out in pain. Suddenly, the curtain on his right was opened and there stood a female nurse, wearing very odd clothes. Instead of the classic green or blue hospital scrubs, she was wearing what seemed a nun's dress. He also had a pair of white stockings that reached to her thighs. There was some skin between her stocking and clothes that was exposed. Her hair seemed to be a blend of white and pink and to top it off, she wore some kind of hat.

"You're awake," she said. Van Persie tried to sit up, but he cried out in pain again, causing the nurse to comfort him. "My name is Vestal. I've been taking care of you for over a week now. Do you know who you are?"

"Lt. Jack Van Persie," he responds without hesitation.

"Oh, you're a lieutenant? Which nation and what branch?"

"7th Advanced Fighter Squadron, United States Air Force," he says weakly.

"Oh, you're a pilot? I didn't know that the air force was a separate entity. And where is this United States?" Vestal asked.

"Uh, you know the US? America?" Vestal shook her head. "Washington DC is the capital," Van Persie continued.

"Oh, you mean the Eagle Union!" Vestal exclaimed.

"Uh, ok?" Van Persie responded. He then tried to sit up again but he grunted in pain.

"Please don't move! I ran an x-ray, and it appears that most of your rib cage is broken, along with your left arm and left and you've suffered a nasty skull fracture. You've suffered multiple horrible third or even fourth-degree burns. And I don't know why but some of your hair has fallen off. Just what the hell happened to you?" Vestal asks. Before Van Persie can say anything, tears roll down Van Persie's face and he starts sobbing.

"The fire, the suffering," he says before crying into Vestal's shoulder.