So I played Ace Combat 7 the other week and got an urge to play the old Ace Combat games, mainly AC5. Then I read through some of the stories on here and got an idea for a story. This is a quick introduction of what will hopefully be my version of Ace Combat 5 with some twists and turns. I'm hoping the writing comes out as clear as it is in my head.

Anyway. thanks for reading the quick chapter.

See you guys in the next chapter.

I didn't remember much of my childhood, it was all a big haze.

I do remember my hands covered in blood at some point though. Was it my blood? I can't seem to make heads or tails of the strangely vivid memory.

The other was that I was abandoned by my parents. They're faces were a blur. I couldn't recall anything about them but above all else, instinctively, I knew that they were my parents.

My mom.

My dad.

I was their bloodline and for whatever reason, they abandoned me to some rundown orphanage here in the city of Oured.

I despised them with every fiber of my being, whoever they may be.

The caretakers tried their best to help, I can remember bits and pieces of them. For a while they pretended to care but I found out in the end all they wanted was the same thing my parents wanted from me.

To disappear.

"We should never have taken him to begin with."

"He's more trouble than he is worth."

While I was there, I tried not to cause trouble, I really did but apparently my "night terrors" and "anger issues" eventually became too much.

And so did the hushed whispers.

So I left, one day. Just up and walked out with the clothes I had on me and some money I stole from someone's clothes.

Nobody stopped me or even really cared to look at me.

So I hated them too.

I walked and walked for who knows how long in that city. Eventually hunger got the best of me and I stopped by a convenience store and bought a doughnut and a can of soda, which ended up being all of my money.

Before I knew it, the sun had set beyond the horizon and I was standing on the side of the road, without anywhere to go. I slumped down on the cold hard concrete. Without anything or anyone, all I felt for myself was self pity and loathing. I felt powerless and lost without a direction to go to and so as any other child would do. I curled my legs up and hugged them close to my chest and cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Until the tears eventually stopped coming.

I wiped the blurriness from my eyes and gazed up at the night sky.

What would it feel like to be up there?

Away from everything?

To be free from it all?

I wanted it so badly then and there.

Eventually I just resigned myself to falling asleep on the ground. What else could I have done?

When I woke, I did to the sounds of a passing car. I jolted upright as it passed by me.

They didn't even slow down, despite me being right next to the road.

Was I that insignificant?

And again, I was alone and hungry and had no money.

Was there anything I could do?

Was there anything that I was even capable of doing?

I really didn't know but soon my answer came in the form of an old cloth.

The wind had blown the piece of cloth onto my lap. I just looked at it without much care. The rag was torn, dirty and useless.

Much like I was.

My stomach grumbled loudly, enough for some passerby to give me a pitying look but did nothing about it.

I gritted my teeth and clenched the piece of cloth in my hands.

Somewhere along the line, I got the bright idea to try and clean shoes for money. Any amount of money.

And I used the old rag to do it.

At first I stuttered my words out even trying to get people's attention but after some time, the words came out smooth and fast. I even managed to scrounge up enough money to buy some actual food.

I didn't know how many days had passed since I ran away but one day it started to rain pretty hard.

I still sat out there, trying to do something but nobody wanted their shoes cleaned when it was raining.

Go figure.

The day after that was sunny but I was sick. I don't remember much from that day. I think the fever might have had something to do with that.

I do remember feeling hopeless and at the end of my rope. I guess as a young kid, that was my limit so I gave up.

I was sick for a while, just curled up on the side of the road. I remember that much and one day I decided I had enough.

So I walked to the nearest bridge I knew. Don't know how I managed to drag myself there but I did. I don't know how long I had been leaning against the railing just….staring out on the city.

God I hated there. Nothing but shitty memories.

Then he walked up beside me.

I can't for the life of me remember his face or even his voice but he was my savior.

"Tell me kid, you gonna jump or what?"

I was so lost in the question. Was I really going to just take the plunge? I really wanted to end things then and there but...I was scared.

Of dying that is.

After a while the man just chuckled at my inaction.

"Tell me son, do you feel sorry for yourself?"

I just nodded back. God I felt like shit.

"What do you like the most in this world?"

The question threw me off but if I had to guess, it would have to be the sky. I didn't say a word, just pointed my finger to the bright blue sky above me.

"And what do you hate?"

"Everything." I answered immediately and without a thought.

At that point I think I really, truly did hate everything and everyone. He knew this too, I'm sure.

He turned to face me.

"Do you want a place to eat? A place to sleep? Have a family? Not blood related of course but family nonetheless."

I nodded desperately, it was my chance to leave my fate. Change my course in history, even if I didn't really know it at the time.

He leaned closer to me.

"I can give you a purpose in this world. It is just one though. Want to know what it is?"

I nodded again.

"Revenge, on the world itself. Everything will be set to zero after we're done." He extended his hand. "Will you join us?"

There was no hesitation. I was saved so I took his hand.

He gave me a terrifying smile. Something I tried to mimic many times.

"Welcome to the Grey Men."

He opened his eyes after retelling his origin tale. They were all there, his comrades, giving him a mixture of looks. Of sadness or of shock or something else entirely.

He just offered a small sad smile in return.

"My name is Johan 'Blaze' Mattis….and I'm a traitor."