10:37 AM, South China Sea, Wednesday

My knuckles were white with how tight I was squeezing the flight stick. My heart pounded loudly almost reverberating in my helmet. I watched helplessly as my flight technician ran out from under my F35 and gave me a thumbs-up. I gulped and gently pressed forward, rolling slowly to the takeoff zone. The rain pelting my cockpit window was almost blinding, making the outside world look like an acid trip. Usually, we would never fly in weather this bad but circumstances were not ideal.

You're probably a tad bit confused right now. Let me clear that up for you. My name is Adrian Meyer and I serve in the US Airforce as an E-4 Senior Airmen. I am 6'2", 195 lbs, 23 years old, with black hair, and blue eyes. Enough about me, to the situation at hand. We are stationed on the USS Abraham Lincoln in the South China Sea. A month ago China declared war on Taiwan. Needless to say, they are quite unhappy with our involvement and have dispatched a squadron to rough up our men on shore. And naturally, we are about to counter it.

I watched the sliver of the landing support officer visible to me, his hand signals mirroring a clock counting down toward my demise. I pressed forward and aligned myself with the runway. With a deep breath, I gave the jet more throttle and picked up speed. The rain began to pelt my glass even more hard and was joined by a loud crack of thunder overhead. This did little to calm my nerves and with a smooth motion, my landing gears were off the ground. In two seconds I was already 20 feet in the air and hit the button to collapse my gear.

I circled the craft and made my way into formation with our squadron of jets. The waves churned violently making the imposing carrier look like a children's toy in a swimming pool. I was the last one they needed so my arrival signaled everyone to start picking up speed. The storm seemed almost even more violent the closer to land we got. The radio chatter was almost drowned out by the loud cracks of thunder surrounding us. The way the storm was heading it was looking like the early formation of a hurricane. We needed to dispatch the enemies quickly.

"Fuckin' hell Poseidon who shit in your sea kelp?", I muttered under my breath.

About 20 kilometers later we could see the island. Colossal waves struck the beach turning the sand into mush. The trees blew violently and I could see debris being flung in the air. I shook my head and tried to reach out to the others, "Giant Killer (control), this is bird 2, how many kilometers are we from the enemy?". I waited a few seconds for a response but it never came. I repeated the same question a good three more times with no answer. Before I could try a fourth all my gauges and instruments started spinning out of control. "The fuck?", I questioned aloud, firmly tapping around my cockpit. "This is not good at all", I muttered.

I wonder how the other guys are faring? I could barely see the fine details of their aircraft as it is and I doubt they would see me signalling them with my hand. If it wasn't for hundreds of hours of practice I wouldn't be able to remain in formation with the lack of visibility. I concluded there was not much I could do and pressed on with the rest. I tried my best to squint and see through the thick waves of rain, looking for any sign of movement. I was jolted out of my tunnel vision as a loud explosion ripped through the air. My head turned at breakneck speeds to see an explosion, in the place of one of our fighters.

Going into action immediately I dived down out of formation and came up diagonally to turn my craft around. I wasn't the only one as the rest of our men did various techniques to escape from their position and prepare for a fight. When I leveled my craft I spotted the enemy. There were six jets I could see and who knows how many more there were. I gritted my teeth and positioned myself to shoot a missile in return. I waited for the satisfying beep of my lock-on systems, but it never came. So the storm was fucking with that too. Can this day get any worse?

"Guess we are doing this old school!", I shouted angrily. I gripped the stick as hard as I could and started maneuvering.

The enemy jets all targeted different people and began chasing.

I gave my jet full throttle forward and was hoping to leave the scuffle and hit from another angle up top. One of the motherfuckers however saw me and was right on my tail. I needed to move fast before he hit me with a missile. This was so unfair.

I had to bait this guy, and quick.

I gained as much momentum as possible and made it look like I was going to dive. He picked up speed with me and I was pushing the jet at this point. The G's were rough as I pulled up as hard as I could and slowed down. As predicted my enemy shot way ahead of me and I took his place. He panicked and went for a turn but I lit him up with a burst of my machine gun. The gun ripped through the body of his aircraft with satisfying sounds. It continued in its trajectory now spinning out of control. "Let's fucking go! Murica' 1, China 0!", I shouted crazily with a whoop to taper it off.

With no time to celebrate, I took a sharp left turn to get back in the thick of it.

From what was visible the scene was chaotic. Smoke trails and orange lit up behind the dark clouds pelting our vehicles with rain. It only took me a good 10 seconds to re-engage with the enemy. We almost met head-on actually, he swooped low from above me and our noses almost collided. Shooting below him I pulled on my stick like a madman to turn back around. He was expecting this and continued on his path at a slower pace. Physics didn't permit me to slow so quickly, forcing me right into his sights. As he planned, I shot out from under him while he pressed to keep up with me. I grit my teeth and nodded, "Fair play, fair play. Let's see your maneuvering skills."

I was gonna give this man a challenge.

I dived down with him in tow and picked up some speed. The rain was now pretty much a constant stream and made it appear as if I was in a submarine rather than a fighter jet. I rolled, dodged, feinted, and did every corkscrew I knew. Our planes danced through the sky in multiple manners, if this was an air show we'd be famous. If I live through this I deserve a place on the Blue Angels for this kind of performance. In my mirrors, I could still see my opponent behind and above me. Alright, I'll give this guy some credit, to keep up with me he was a hell of a pilot. I had to do something crazy, I'm talking insane. I wracked my mind for ideas while I passively did evasive maneuvers ingrained in my muscle memory. Then the idea came.

Something bonkers was about to happen.

I was gonna do Pugachev's Cobra.

"Here we go baby!", I exclaimed. The G's super-glued me to my seat while I pulled my nose up. My nose was eventually vertical while the engine fought like hell to keep thrust. I slowed down very quickly while my jet awkwardly was propelled forward. With very little time I pressed the button to my gun and started spraying the air. In little under a second, he came barreling over. My gun ripped through his cabin and thoroughly peppered him from front to back. I let off my thrust and use the tail drag to balance and tip my nose back forward.

His jet was barely visible through the rain but I could see him slowing and the smoke billowing from behind.

My brain was overstimulated with excitement and before I could cry out in victory the familiar sound of a machine gun roared. In the corner of my eye, I could see an enemy jet coming down. Before my hands could react the cabin of my plane was being ripped up and bullets pelted against my jet's body. A bullet pierced the cockpit's window and the sound of wind was almost deafening. Glass shards flew into my mask and water filled the cockpit. I couldn't see due to the water hitting my visor and soaking the cabin. I flailed around fruitlessly and tried my best to find the ejection button for my seat. Surprisingly in my maniacal groping, I found it, and even more surprising, it didn't work.

"Shit!", I cried helplessly.

The only thing I could do from then is try to make an emergency landing. Trying my best to calm myself I pointed the nose to where I suspected the ground would be. The wind was still howling through the cabin while the storm seemed even angrier. My mask was beginning to shut down and I gripped the tank harshly out of desperation. One hand was trying to fix it, to do anything, and the other controlling my blind descent.

Maybe the lack of oxygen, major stress, or fatigue set in but I was beginning to feel light-headed. My hands went numb and I could no longer feel the stick through my gloves. My head slowly sagged forward and I closed my eyes.

Location Unknown

My head shot up in panic. The sun temporarily blinded me and I faced down to let my vision adjust. My head was pounding and the wind was harsh as it screeched in my ears. I looked up and all the events leading up to me going unconscious hit me. This kicked my ass into gear and I gripped my flight-stick and observed my surroundings. I was high up in the clouds, gliding down rapidly, freezing my ass off too. What a fucking combo.

The engine of the jet was out and now the only thing I could do was make an emergency landing.

The rain in the cabin was turned to ice at this point and my flight suit was stiff, while I attempted to gain control of the craft. I looked up into the sky and saw no storm clouds or signs of any dogfights, strange. My descent continued quietly while I tried my best to warm up, this proved futile however when I exited the clouds. Instead of a lush green island, I was met with snowy mountains. As if I skipped over Taiwan and flew to the Himalayas. The mountain peak reached high and the snow was a blinding white. The snow obscured my vision and pelted my helmet much like the rain earlier.

I was in a state of shock and muttered, "This isn't right..."

The environment distracted me for a good minute while I attempted my best to take in what had happened, making me unaware of my descent. I was startled when I bounced in my seat and snow flew up around me. The metallic clang was loud and assaulted my ears, the jet's body jerked me roughly with the sound. I had grazed the tip of a mountain and I shook my head at my stupidity. Putting all my effort into staying aware I was rapidly getting closer to the ground. It was a hard task with all the shivering and snow blinding my vision, I knew I must be low but the snow prevented me from exactly knowing. I was about to tip my nose down a bit more before the snow broke out of my vision and left me enamored.

Instead of more mountains and snow, I had left its domain to reveal the foot of a mountain with rapidly melting snow. And further forward was a huge valley that was covered in nature. Tall bamboo forests were sporadically placed tracing rice fields, small marshes, and multiple rivers which divided the landscape. It looked as if it was a living oil painting the green hues swirling and being reflected by the bright sun. The temperature slowly rose and the snow melted into small droplets within my cabin, and the rest melted and flew off the jet's slick body.

My admiration had to be cut short though because I was rapidly approaching the ground and picking up great speed. I yanked my flight stick up, but the jet didn't budge. No, this wasn't supposed to happen. I quickly began to panic and moved the flight stick every which way as I barreled forward. As expected, nothing started to happen and I was extremely close to the canopy of a bamboo forest now. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!", I screamed in alarm while I shielded my eyes. I covered my face and without warning, I was flung forward and could hear the bamboo crunching around me. Something struck my helmet and the world went black.

The last thing I remembered was cracking my eyes and seeing two orange paws grab me by my shoulders and begin to hoist me up.