Corrin's mind bore heavy burdens. He had to save his friend. If not, he would serve for a time for the purpose of destroying everything he had fought for for so long only to be killed in a mass genocide. The only way to save him would be to kill one of the most dreaded men in the world: Riktus the Dark Controller.

"By the Omnissiah…" Grange muttered in despair. Corrin looked up. They were flying high above a city. He gazed out of the exit hatch. It was Capar. Imperial thunderbolt emblems covered the buildings. Tanks and soldiers marched the streets. The cheers and cries of joy dragged all the way from the ground into Corrin's ears. The fight had been lost.

The Emperor, that cheating bastard, had launched an attack during his own cease fire. Corrin was sure dozens were killed in the immediate onslaught, unarmed. Hundreds more must have died in the battle. He had been captured. His stomach wound into a knot. He had done nothing.

The red light beside the vox buzzed again.

Unidentified Thunderbird, identify and give clearance++

"Damn…" Grange whispered. A man leaned into the cockpit.

"What was that? We heard voices." Corrin looked away. The man was a boy, looking only of sixteen.

"Stay back in holding." Corrin said, shaken by the young age of the boy. He nodded and disappeared.

Unidentified…++

Grange tapped the red button angrily. "We're here!" He said impatiently.

Give identification++

Grange turned to him. "What now?" He said desperately. Corrin shook his head and closed his eyes.

Respond++

The two men sat still for a moment. Corrin then spun on the spot. "Everyone get safety latches on, now!" The ship lurched to the side. A bang echoed through his ears. More small blasts shook the hull. "What just happened?" Corrin asked worriedly.

Grange's eyes were running quickly across a screen. "They hit our engine! Not direct, but well be down in…" The ship flipped over. Wind shot over Corrin's face. The illuminators died, replaced by red klaxons. Smoke drifted slowly into the cockpit. Corrin began top cough. His bloodshot eyes fixed on the view hatch.

The Thunderbird was rocketing towards the surface. There was a terrible crash. Corrin tightened his eyes. He felt pain, but not death. He looked to the side. Grange sat there, his eyes wide in fear. He turned to Corrin. They stared at each other for a moment.

The emergency hatch above them swung suddenly open. "Out." Someone said flatly. They looked up. A dark man held his hand down to them. "Now." Grange went first. He was pulled up smoothly.

The hand returned and Corrin grasped it. He kicked himself up off of the sparkling panel. He clambered over the wreckage of the Thunderbird and looked to the man. He caught a slight glimpse of his face, scarred and dirty, before he turned. "Run, this thing's about to blow!" He roared. The two companions took no pause. The barreled off in the footsteps of the man.

There was a blast originating behind them. Heat prickled the hairs on Corrin's back. They rushed on into the woods beyond. Corrin turned his head. The city was disappearing in the horizon. Several tiny, black figures had emerged on the horizon. They were coming to find what was in the Thunderbird. They would find nothing. He turned back to see the man had stopped.

Grange turned to him questioningly. Corrin shrugged. He looked on.

The man was dressed in full Merican Marine garb. His face was painted a dark green and his eyes were burning with suspicion. "Who are you?" Corrin asked quickly.

"I ask the questions." The man responded. "Who are you?"

"Corrin Grant, Merican 6th Company. Also known as 6514." Corrin replied. "And this is…"

"Aphorax Grange, adept of Mars." Grange finished.

"Grant…you fought in the battle?" The man asked. Corrin nodded. The man held out his hand. Corrin shook it. "Jasper Reith, Merican Marines 13th. We were dispatched with you boys to help secure the city. You are a lucky survivor." Other men began to emerge from the foliage of the forest, their faces covered with a mix of curiosity and anger. All wore the garb of the Merican Army.

A smile shot across Corrin's face at the sight of one. "Jonas!" It was medic Jonas.

"Corrin!" Jonas grinned. "Nice to see a familiar face!" Corrin and Grange turned back to Jasper.

"We have been living in the woods, conducting a Guerilla War for a week now." Jasper continued. Corrin gasped. A week!

"What news of the campaign?" Corrin asked, eager for information.

"They have created a net around Capitalis." Corrin lowered his head. Capitalis was the region of defenses surrounding the Capital. It was only a matter of time. "Mason City has fallen under siege by the Emperor's forces." Jasper breathed. "Tacticians predict that, without a major change, Merica will fall in days."

Corrin looked at Grange. "We have to get out of here and get to Mason City. If we can stop the Treacherous Souls, we could change the war!" Grange nodded.

Jasper looked intently at them. "Stop the Treacherous ones? How?"

"We're going to kill Riktus." The group looked at the oddly. Jasper turned to them.

"Look boys," The group stood at attention. "If our country is going to fall in a matter of days, any idea is a good one. All we are doing here is stabbing a needle in the Imperial foot, and a small one at that." He turned back to Corrin and Grange. "We'll help you." The group began discussing. Grange grabbed his leg and grunted.

Corrin looked at him. "Wounded?" Grange nodded.

"Your friend gave me a nice shot to the leg…"

Jonas stepped forward. "I can help." Grange smiled and followed the man over to the group.

Jasper approached Corrin. "Look, you realize the chances…"

"I do." Corrin said simply. "My best friend has been taken, and I will free him." Jasper nodded. Corrin watched as Jonas drove a small needle into Grange's leg.

Seconds later, the tree beside Jasper exploded into dozens of tiny shards. "We're under attack!" Someone roared. Corrin looked towards the origination of the bullet. The sight forced his eyes away. "God's will…"