On my twenty-eighth birthday, I saw the world burned.

I grew up learning about tales of the Calamity and how it broke the world apart hundreds of years ago. I would often imagine the scenes of that day in my mind and how it reset civilization as we know it back to the dark ages. Earth itself splitting wide open, with hot molten rocks bursting out of it endlessly and bathed the lands in a sea of infernal blaze. The dark skies roared with thunders and lightning storms, as if signaling the beginning of the apocalypse. Millions. Billions of lives, perished in mere moments. Cities collapsed into nothingness. Humanity's greatest achievements faded into dust and wiped from existence.

It was not the end of the world, but it sure does sound close to it.

"But the worst has already passed," That's what my teachers taught me, "Those who survived have since recovered from those dark days. It took more than four hundred years, but humanity has rebuilt civilization back to its glory days once more. We learned from our mistakes and how not to repeat them, and now we live in a new golden age."

If only that had actually been true.

If it had, then maybe Prospero wouldn't have happened.

I still remember the last sight I had of the city, or what was left of it, the last time I flew on a mission with my squadron.

The last sight I saw as the world and everything I knew came crashing down all around me…

"Crimson 7, what are you doing!?"

"I'm not leaving you alone, goddamnit! I don't want to see any more friends die!"

A pair of missiles fired, both directed toward the plane with the Crown – the Sicario mercenary. He dodged them almost effortlessly, but at least they got what I aimed for. The plane with the Crown broke off his pursuit of my wingman – one of the few friends I still have left – and flew away.

Too bad that it also left me wide open to another mercenary who had a clear shot at my back.

Missile alert alarm was blaring all over the cockpit. The jester pilot had already fired her missiles. There was no way I could evade them at all.

I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the inevitable.

"See you on the other side, buddy…"

"Camilla, no!"

And then the whole world turned white.

I woke up with a start, awakened by the rumblings on a glass window my face was leaning on. The sounds of faraway thunders some distance away echoed loud enough to bring me back to reality.

There were no missiles. No war. No mercenaries. No Calamity. Just me sitting in a train on the way to Arlvais, a small town in the Kingdom of Gallia - and half a world away from the past I want to leave behind.

And yet the past continued to haunt me still.

"The nightmares again?"

A young woman sitting across me spoke with a curious frown, asking a question that I came to expect from her now every time something like this happened during our journey together.

I shook my head a little, trying to get rid of the dizziness after waking up, before giving a reply to my companion, "Couldn't really come up with something better to ask?"

The woman chuckled lightly before handing me a bottle of water, "Drink up. We're almost at another checkpoint."

"Already? It's only been, what, thirty minutes after the last one?" I asked her, "Since when did people around here get so paranoid?"

"And you called me out for asking something dumb…" My companion frowned, "Don't act as if you weren't there right in the middle of that shitstorm last year."

"Yeah, yeah, I was just being sarcastic."

Of course, I know full well what she was talking about: that goddamned war in Cascadia. The war that changed the face of the planet the likes of which has never seen since the First Calamity. The war that marked the beginning of the end for the Pacific Federation and a hundred years of global dominance.

The war that I played a part in escalating.

The irony of it all is that it was not the Cascadians – or mercenaries, for that matter – that brought us down to this pitiful state. It was us – the Federation – and the numerous crimes we committed during the war. Prospero and Presidia were just final nails in our collective coffin. We already dug our own grave long before that.

Well, it's a grave that I have no intention of ending up in. It was a goddamn miracle that I survived the plane crash after I got shot down in Prospero – barely meters away from plummeting into a sea of inferno. There was no reason, no reason at all, to believe that my survival was anything more than just plain dumb luck, so I decided not to push it any further and told myself that enough was enough.

To hell with that blasted war. To hell with Cascadia. To hell with the Federation. To hell with everything.

If my own countrymen want to dig their own grave further, then good for them, but it's a grave I have no intention of dying in, so I left without looking back. I wanted to go as far away from them as I can. As luck would have it, I found someone else who has the same idea.

My companion, the woman once known as Irena Dvornik, was a former Peacekeeper from Cobalt Team whom I met when we were both trying to sneak through the Cascadian borders into Creole Republic. Of course, she never use that name in public anymore, same as I do. We both know better than to use our own identities while on the run from people who would definitely want us dead

Camilla Almeida and Irena Dvornik ceased to exist to moment Presidia was annihilated in a cordium inferno. As far as everybody is concerned, we were both killed in action.

I took another glance at the metallic card in my hand – the name Melissa Herman displayed prominently on it next to my slightly edited profile shot. Not too shabby work done by some shady former Icarus Armories technician-turned-independent forger whom I made acquaintances with during my brief time there.

"Stop worrying about it so much. You're making me nervous, too," Irena said, most likely noticing my nervousness, "It got us through five checkpoints already. It'll get us through this one. You said yourself that the guy was legit, right?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not letting my guard down until we're out of Gallia," I told her, putting the ID card back into my purse, "Lots of people here are half-Cascadian, after all."

"How the heck can you even tell who is Cascadian?" Irena asked with a frown, "And it's not like they can tell who's Feds. Most people aren't that observant."

"Bounty hunters are that observant," I told her, "And they're hungry for us Feds' blood ever since the war ended. It's practically their biggest break since Oceania. How are you so casual about this?"

"You'd be surprised how much you could get away with if you just act like you belong. Believe me. This isn't my first rodeo," Irena replied with a slight grin, "Trying to act like you do: being all paranoid and looking over your shoulder all the time…yeah, I'll bet that the bounty hunters would get you first instead of me."

I was about to say something back, then I just sighed in defeat. Irena has a point. She did survive a long time on her own before I ran into her, and she was pretty much just going along with the flow. If I didn't know that she used to be in the military personally, I would've thought she was just another civilian myself.

How the hell could she pull it off?

Irena turned her attention back to the book she was reading: Cohen-North: Military Applications of Artificial Intelligence, a book that she grabbed at a bookstore at a train station while we were waiting for our ride to arrive.

It was supposed to be part of her new identity as "Ludmila Tolstaya", a computer science graduate travelling to Freisden National University in the Principality of Almany, Gallia's next-door neighbor. Despite the fact that Irena pretty much admitted that she couldn't even code "Hello World" if her life depended on it, she seemed to immerse herself into the book as if she has been a com-sci grad all her life. I couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that.

"What's so funny?"

"Do you even understand the stuff you're reading in that thing?"

"What? I like the pictures!"

I snickered, taking a peek into the pages she was currently reading, "What if somebody asks you what the heck 'battlefield singularities and their impacts on military AI development' means? How would you explain this to them?"

Irena made an expression that looked like she felt insulted. She began to explain in detail as if she was giving a lecture in a classroom, determined to show me that she really knew her stuff.

"'Battlefield singularities' are those particularly exceptional individuals whose presences on the battlefield invite unpredictable elements, at which point the battle situation shifted dramatically from what it was before. Obvious routs turn into decisive victories thanks to these people, and they are exempt from rules that should apply to everybody else. This is why their combat records are often used as templates for military AI development…"

"Alright, alright! I'm impressed." I admitted, if only to stop her from continuing further, "Seriously, how did you find the time to learn all this stuff?"

"Hey, it's part of my cover, after all. I gotta do my research." Irena frowned, "Besides, this is something I've been wanting to learn more about for a long time, so I read a lot about it when I'm not doing anything. Maybe you should find something new to learn, too. Life is about constant learning, you know?"

"Good grief."

I swear, one of these days she gotta teach me how to do that.

Still, what she said about 'singularities'… I couldn't help but being reminded of some unpleasant memories, of the things I would rather want to forget.

Was my squadron leader a 'singularity' himself, too? Would a singularity be capable of the feats he achieved as the top ace of the Federation? For that matter, what of his ultimate archenemy – the Crown Mercenary? Was he a singularity as well? What happened when two singularities clashed together?

Was the destruction of Presidia the inevitable conclusion of such a scenario?

I shook my head, trying to drive away the terrible thought. My eyes wandered to the view outside once more.

It still hasn't stopped raining out there.

We went through the checkpoint without a hitch, our faked IDs having worked like a charm as usual. Irena even teased me that I was getting all worked up over nothing, much to my own chagrin.

By the time the train finally arrived in Arlvais, it was already evening. The medium-sized scenic town reminded me of some of the towns I flew over in Cascadia during the war. Feels pretty weird to be one on the ground this time. For a moment, I thought I could hear sounds of air-raid sirens, when in reality the only noteworthy sounds we could hear were rumblings of the distant thunders in a storm not far away from here.

Just how long is that storm gonna follow us? Feels like every time I look behind, there seems to always be a storm cloud trailing not far behind me.

"Come on, let's find some place to stay for the night," Irena suggested, waving her right arm backward to stretch it as she made a pained expression, "OW! Remind me to never ride a long-distance train trip again later. I still don't understand why we can't just book a flight instead. We'd be here days earlier! What do you have against airships, anyway?"

"Airships fly, and the sky's where our would-be killers operate…most of the time," I told her, "Literally anything is better for me at this point."

"Hmph!" Irena huffed in annoyance. She jogged forward into the town to the nearest inn she could find: a three-storey high townhouse that looked like it was fairly newly built. L'Auberge D'Elise was the name written above the front entrance – on a white wooden plank with orange outlines, decorated by various colorful roses. If I didn't know better, I might have thought this could be a place where some noble would live in.

I took a glance at the surroundings to make a mental note of the local area. Already I was formulating possible escape routes in my mind. It's pretty much programmed into my head at this point.

Only one entrance, possible exits in the back. Opposite buildings tall enough as possible sniper nests. Would be wise to pick a room that doesn't face the street. Hopefully there is a rooftop access somewhere. Wouldn't hurt to have one more escape route in case things get too hot…

"…Earth to Melissa. Come in, Melissa! Ugh, you're doing this again!"

Before I realize it, Irena was standing in front of me again with a puzzled look on her face. At least she was tactful enough not to use my real name in public. We never know who could be listening.

"The storm's gonna be here soon. You wanna stand out here all evening and get soaked?"

"I'm just taking in the sights for a bit. I like how the town looks. Might take a walk around for a while if that's alright with you."

I lied. Attempted to, at least. Irena didn't even buy it, but she didn't pry further. She just shrugged and made her way to the inn, "Well, grab some cup noodles from a store if you find any. I'll just go ahead and check us in a room."

Heh, cup noodles? Here? Does she think she's in Daegu or something?

At any rate, I walked to the nearest local store I could find. Even though Arlvais was a small town, the place was surprisingly bustling with people – even with a massive storm coming this way. The town square was filled with dozens of locals and tourists going about their lives as if nothing has ever happened, as if the world around them was just this idyllic Gallian countryside.

These people are in for a rude awakening eventually, and from what I've been hearing throughout my journey so far, it might actually happen sooner than anyone thought:

"Prime Minister Richard Kincaid of the Republic of Albion is now the latest in the growing list of world leaders condemning the Pacific Federation's actions during the war with Cascadia. The conflict, which was concluded violently three months ago with the use of weapons of mass destruction by a rogue Peacekeeper pilot – whose identity is still not disclosed by the Federation - resulted in the destruction of Cascadia's capital city Presidia, along with a death toll of over three million lives, military and civilians…"

Such were the words of the newscaster spoken in the evening news on a TV hanging inside the convenience store I went to. The sole store clerk wasn't paying much attention to it, but he did take some quick glances to see images of the burning inferno that used to be Cascadia's capital city. Even he couldn't ignore the savagery in those images.

And my former squadron leader was responsible for it all.

"Mr. Kincaid's sentiment is shared by that of Chancellor Joran Atalar of the Constantine Republic, who has spoken out in the Mare Nostrum Alliance Emergency Summit yesterday urging fellow member states to consider imposing an embargo on the Pacific Federation as punishment for the crimes committed in Cascadia, among various others…"

"Damn…they're really doing it, huh?" The store clerk spoke with a frown, even as he scanned the groceries in the basket, "The Feds really screwed the pooch this time. Can't say I'm surprised."

"Yeah…couldn't happen to a nicer country. About damn time someone really stands up to them."

I was surprised to find just how easy it was for me to say those words out loud. It was as if I actually meant them, and that's what scared me.

The Pacific Federation was my home. The place I grew up in. Lived in for most of my life. The nation I once pledged to fight and even lay down my life for to defend its safety. And yet at this moment, there's nothing I wanted more than to get as far away from it as possible.

Have I really sunk that low since I left? Did I really have no loyalty left for the place that used to be my home? Did I even have it in the first place?

I couldn't bring myself to sleep that night, and it wasn't only because of the thunderstorm outside.

I always had trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places, even before everything that happened in Cascadia. One of my wingmen in Crimson, Rena, used to tease me about it every time we were rotated to a new airbase and I had to spend several nights adjusting to the new place before I could get some decent sleep again. Of course, her being around was one of the reasons I could really feel relaxed. Being around her makes me truly feel like a person, someone who was more than just another weapon in the Federation's arsenal.

God, I missed that girl.

"You know, I could really get used to living here," Irena spoke as she stepped out of the bathroom after taking forever in there indulging herself in a vintage bathtub, and that was after she returned from a two-hours long massage that the inn's owners offered, "Gotta hand it to the D'Elises. They really know how to make you feel like a princess!"

"Don't get too comfortable. I don't plan on sticking here for too long."

"Heh. You sure know how to ruin it, Cam."

Cam?

The word took me back for a moment. Only two people had ever called me Cam, and both of them are dead right now. To hear that word coming out of someone else's mouth this time…it kinda gives me a weird vibe, and not in a good way.

"You do realize that we can't keep running forever, right? We have to draw the line sooner or later."

Irena said as she finished getting dressed in her light-blue nightgown before dropping herself on her bed. "Hell, we just crossed a channel yesterday. The last thing either of us needs right now is going on another cross-continent journey to escape, I dunno, whatever phantoms that you believe are still chasing after us for some reason."

"Just turn on the news if you don't believe me," I told her, raising my voice a little to get my point across, "Literally the entire world is out for our blood and this place is no exception. Believe me, I want to stop running just as much as you do, but I can't. What we did there…what I did…it's not something we can just leave behind."

"So that's it? We keep running until the day we die? Is that really how you want to spend the rest of your life, Cam? Even after everything you've survived so far?"

I didn't answer anything. What the hell was I supposed to say?

Irena leaped onto her bed, making herself comfortable, before turning on the TV. The late night news channels were still reporting the same thing as what I saw earlier this evening. To my surprise, Irena actually had a troubled expression on her face as she was watching it.

"My father was General Gustav Dvornik," Irena finally began, "I assume I don't have to tell you what that means, right?"

She was right. The name Gustav Dvornik stood out even in the Federation's long-list of decorated commanders. The man was one of the reasons why Peacekeepers are so feared by the world at large.

During the Oceania War all those years ago, he led a ruthless campaign against the Mercenary Cabal in the Australasian Union. Using two squadrons of Peacekeeper units and tons of cruise missiles, he utterly annihilated one of the Cabal's headquarters by laying waste to the entire city it was based in, destroying everything indiscriminately, including numerous civilians.

It was promoted as one of the finest victories the Federation has ever achieved. It was also condemned by various critics for the sheer brutality involved in it. Of course, it's not like those critics were in a position to do anything about it…at least not back then.

"For years I have to be reminded of what my father did every time someone recognizes who I am, and what's worse is that he thought this is a good thing," Irena continued, "He used connections to put me on Cobalt Team because he wanted people to know what our name is capable of. To prove that victory is in our blood. To prove that we are the future of the Federation. Heh, look where that got us."

Irena chuckled bitterly, as if she was both amused and disgusted by what her father wanted her to be. "'The Goddess of Victory', that's what he hyped me as. That goddamn bastard. I was nothing more than a glorified poster girl and even my own wingmen know it. I hated every single moment of it, but what can I do? You know what our superiors do to 'unpatriotic individuals'."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

I wish I could say that I understood where she was coming from, but…I couldn't. Even with everything that turned out, I can't say that my experience with Crimson Team had been an absolutely horrible experience, at least not within the last few months.

Irena stared blankly at the news on the TV, sighing heavily before turning it off, "I was a walking propaganda piece. I don't need any more reminders of what my dear country did. I'm done letting it have a hold over me. So what if the world is out to get me? At least I'm now free of all that bullshit my dad forced me to go through back in the Peacekeepers. It's about damn time I get to live my own life for once."

"I…I don't really know what to do with my life right now," I finally admitted. Irena turned to look at me with a curious look on her face, which I found a bit nice.

"I could barely remember my life as it was before I joined Crimson. Ever since then, all I've known about is killing. I have blood on my hands even before Cascadia. Heh, now that I think about it, it seems fitting that I'd be in Crimson, of all places. I belong with them."

Irena snickered, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Crimson is only just a color. You could be in Team Rainbow, and you'd still be a killer all the same. It's what they trained us to be. Whether or not you continue to be one is entirely up to you."

"That's the point. Being a killer is all I've ever known." I repeated. Damn it, couldn't she wait until I am finished first?

"Everywhere I go, I'm reminded of what I did. Even this place. I remember how easy it would be for me to lay it all to waste if that's what my superior asked me to do. I remember how I would comply with every questionable order I was given simply because I'm capable of doing them, even if that order would get innocent civilians killed, or leave my allies to die…"

"So, you're worried that being a killer is all you can be," Irena added. Sometimes I wondered if she could read my mind, "Is that why you really want to keep on running?"

I turned my head away to look outside the window again. The storm was getting stronger now.

"Would you let a killer into your own home?" I asked, "Would you let them work for you knowing that their hands have blood on them? What if it was the blood of someone you cared about?"

"Why the hell should I care?" Irena replied, so nonchalant in tone that I couldn't help but stare back at her. How could she be so callous about all this?

"Look, the way I see it, anyone can have blood on their hands if people really wanted to see it there," She began, "We can't change people's minds if they're already dead set on believing what they want to believe. So what does it matter if they see us as killers? Less than a year ago they were saying the same things about those mercenaries, too, and look who they now call heroes and villains, so who gives Dust Mother's tits about what people think?"

"But we were responsible! We did do all those things people are accusing us of doing!"

"'Yes, we did', 'yes, they did', so what?!" Irena raised her voice. Now she was starting to get genuinely angry, "We fucked up real bad? Sure! We're the scums who broke the world? Damn straight! Millions are dead because of us? Fucking yes! Don't you think I'm aware of all this crap, too?!"

"Then you know that there's no fixing this!" I argued, "How the hell would I be able to live my life after all that!? Why should someone like me deserve to live and not those people who died because of me!?"

"You know what your problem is, Cam? You care too damn much about things you can't change. It's stopping you from living your life!" Irena fired back again furiously, "You survived a fucking calamity and get to start over with a clean slate. For the first time in your life, you're free to be whoever you want to be, and yet all you ever do with it up until now is bitching about how life isn't fair. Guess what? It's never gonna be fair! Sometimes villains get away and good guys die. That's how life is! Either you can mope with it until you die, or you can try to do something about it! It's just. That. Simple!"

I was too stunned to even say anything back in reply. Irena's words pierced through me like ice, and I found myself just sitting there like a statue on my bed. Irena was doing the same thing, her expression a mixture of anger and…pain, I think? I didn't know what to make of anything anymore. I didn't even realize I was crying until I heard myself sobbing an entire minute later.

For a long time, we just sat on our beds staring at each other in silence, the only sounds made being the thunders rumblings outside. I guess I should at least be thankful that we didn't wake up the entire floor with our argument earlier.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Irena just sighed deeply. She got up from her bed, walked over to me, and did the last thing I would have expected her to do.

She put her arms across my shoulders, and pulled me into an embrace.

"I know this is hard for you, Cam. It's hard for me, too."

Irena's voice was soft, almost soothing to listen to, a far cry from the furious outburst earlier. For a second, I thought it wasn't even Irena doing this, but someone else wearing her body.

Or maybe this was actually who she really is, and I was too caught up with my own thoughts to notice it.

"You know how long it took for me to build up the courage to even come up with a plan to fake my own death? Six months," She continued, "I was so afraid of running away. So afraid of my father. Of my own countrymen. Of the Cascadians. Of bounty hunters. I was so afraid of a billion things that could go wrong and I'd end up as just another name in someone else's assault records. But…I still did it anyways."

"Why?" I finally mustered enough will to say something out, "Why did you do it?"

"Because I'm tired of letting fear have a hold over me," Irena answered, her grip around me tightened, "The world almost ended twice already, Cam. We don't know how long we have until our numbers come up. Hell, we could've died a hundred times already from Cascadia to this place. Life's too short to wallow in regrets of what we did and who we used to be."

"Is it that easy, though? Just starting over? After everything we've been through?"

"I have no idea. But it beats not even trying to, right?" Irena spoke as she pulled herself away from me. She gently put her hand on my face before wiping the tears away, giving me an encouraging smile as she did so.

"I'm not saying that we should just pretend like nothing bad has ever happened," She began, the smile never leaving her face, "I'm just saying that there's no point in moping about what you can't change when you still got your whole life ahead of you, especially now that nobody is controlling it anymore. What you did, who you were…they don't have to define the rest of your life, you know?"

"Did you get that from a book somewhere, too?"

Irena punched me lightly in my shoulder playfully, "Hey, I'm just speaking my mind here. Someone has to pull you out of the gutter eventually, so it might as well be me. I just hope that it's at least working."

She laughed a bit after she said that. Not exactly a happy laugh, but it wasn't a bitter one, either. I would probably never know why she did that, but for that moment – for the first time since I got here, I wasn't thinking about the raging storm outside the window anymore. Before long, I realized that I was actually smiling with her, too.

"Get some sleep already. You'll feel better tomorrow," Irena suggested as she returned to her bed, before throwing herself down on it as if she was diving into a pool. She was back to her own self now, "God, this bed feels soooo good!"

Somehow, I couldn't help myself but giggle a bit at that. What is it with Irena and her unfailing ability to take my mind off heavy things with her antics?

Where would I be without her?

I still continued to have nightmares that night. Those weren't something that could just go away, and neither Irena nor I could do anything about it.

But for the first time in months, I was actually looking forward to a new day after I wake up.

To my relief (and more than a little surprised), my argument with Irena last night didn't wake up the entire building, and the inn owners apparently never heard anything at all. I guess it was probably the thunderstorm noises outside that cancelled out our voices. At any rate, I tried not to care too much.

We left the inn soon after breakfast. I decided to humor Irena a bit and allowed ourselves a few hours to enjoy the Arlvais countryside. People were still going about their business as usual, just like yesterday, even after a severe storm last night left some noticeable damages here and there.

I even spotted a couple of tourists wearing University of Presidia jackets taking photos of themselves at a local market, too. If they were indeed Cascadians, they didn't look like people who had just lost their homeland to a war and disasters. That, or they hid it pretty well.

Perhaps that's how we cope in a world like this. A fragile world that could break apart at any moment, either by disasters or pointless wars. Perhaps that's the attitude I should get behind, too.

I don't know what the future would bring. Another war? Another disaster? Some catastrophe that threatens to throw the entire world into chaos once more? Maybe it's inevitable. That's why I would try to live a little before everything goes to hell. And who knows? Maybe the world could surprise me.

It's not going to be easy. I have no illusion about that. I still look over my shoulder every once in a while, expecting to see someone trailing us. I'm still afraid of the past catching up to me. But like Irena said, sometimes I just have to put all of that behind and really start living my own life.

And becoming 'Melissa Herman' seemed like a good starting point.

"So…have you reconsidered about taking a flight, Melissa?" A lady named 'Ludmila" asked with a mischievous smile, "Come on, are we really gonna take trains all the way to Almany?"

I grinned back at her, "Well, as long as you promise to pay for the tickets."

"Seriously?" Ludmila frowned, "You're so cheap."

"Hey, lady, you realize how much even economy seats cost on Littorios these days?"

"So what?! We'll earn it back!" She insisted, "Lots of job opportunities in Freisden, you know? We'll find some work there. Right now, let's just travel in style!"

"Alright, I give up." I waved my hands in defeat, "I was wondering how it feels like travelling on airships, anyway. Would be quite an experience, I guess."

"Oh, you're gonna love it!" Ludmila pulled me into a tight hug, grinning widely, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Seriously, it's like I'm actually travelling with an actual schoolgirl.

This is going to be one interesting journey.

Author's Note: A sort-of sequel to "The Price of Peace" is finally here!

I really want to explore a story of a Federation pilot who have survived the war in Cascadia and now has to cope with living in a changed world where they have to face the consequences of the Federation's past actions. It's more of a character study piece and setting expansion fic than an action-centric one. I was never really that good at writing action-centric fics lol, so I apologize if anyone's expecting to see crazy dogfight action. This is not the fic you're looking for.

This project has been a long time in the making. I planned to write this story from all the way back in March, not long after I finished The Price of Peace. Crimson 7, or 'Camilla' (for those who understood the AC name references, kudos to you!), was not someone I initially intended to survive the battle with the Sicario mercs at Prospero. Back then, Crimson 5 was supposed to be the sole survivor of Crimson Team, and I have big plans for him in a future story if I come around to writing it. Then I figured that it would be good to have one more Crimson survivor as well, and they went down different paths to cope with their experience during the war.

There are a couple of main reasons why this fic took so long to finish: the first is mainly the lack of inspiration. I can't deny, I've been losing interest in combat flight games this year, both Ace Combat and Project Wingman, and I find it really hard to get into the mind of the characters I write. The second is lack of motivation. Real life has been pretty tough on my personal psyche this year: the pandemic, the work/life balance, the personal stuffs, etc. and I find myself procrastinating for weeks without getting so much as a single paragraph done. Hell, sometimes it even feels like I don't know if I could write anymore.

It was only until the year is almost ending that I promised myself to finally get this thing done, to clean up as many loose ends that I have before the new year begins and I finally move on to a new chapter of my life. I can't promise if there would be a continuation for this story and The Price of Peace, though, but if there is then I do have some ideas of what I hope to write about, so there's that.

At any rate, I really hope you guys enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading! Leave a review if you're able to! I wish y'all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in advance!