Butterfly Master, Pt. 2Butterfly MasterButterfly Master, Pt. 2in Ace Combat
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"I've never noticed how beautiful the colors are..."
"Please concentrate, miss, it is certainly a beautiful sunset from here up in the stratosphere but that's not exactly a new sight for us, is it?"
"I don't mean the sunset..." She said, her mouth slightly agape, looking upwards into the concentric shades of the sky. The wind softly pressed against the wings of the formation of fighters, indistinguishable from her own skin. A soft glow from ram air pressure along the leading edge gave it just that right ammount of spice.
"Y-you don't? What are you referring to then? The colors of the HUD?"
"No..." She said, paying little attention to the four green squares that the satellite AWACS had projected into her visual cortex. "It's the mappy song... I knew how it sounded, yeah, but I had never seen the colors of it."
"Miss, what are you talking about? I believe the enemy is tr
Butterfly Master, Pt.I Butterfly MasterButterfly Master, Pt.Iin Ace Combat
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"Hm Hm Hm Hm hmmm, hm, hmhmhmhmhm"
She bobbed her head to the rythm, adjusting her headset with the tip of a finger.
'Miss, by your behavior I believe that you are not taking the operation seriously'
"Oh, come on" She said. "You're always such a bore..."
'I do not think you understand the importance of the projection of a n-node neural control network, do you?'
The R-103s bobbed admist the ultramarine cuppola that rose above her face, subtly motioning to her every synapse, responding to her command far deeper and more reliably than her mere muscles. The squadron had become more of a body than her body ever was, they were her eyes, ears, wings and skin. She could feel the searing supersonic wind caress every square inch of the huge surface of the fighters' form, every change of pressure and temperature.
"Feels nice, I could get used to this..." She tilted her head with a silly expression. Sh
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<<A young man is brought for the first time before the Belkans. That young soldier has been any of us or, inversely, we all have been that soldier. In that secret rendez-vous he sees faces he has never seen; he sees soldiers, medics, officers, pilots and strangest of all, he sees they are all young men just like him.
The meeting, which should have filled him with fear, relieves him instead. Such is his relief that he will then fight alongside those Belkans. How do I explain such mysterious occurrence?
We can, of course, simply deny it. We can pretend that soldier is a simpleton and he has merely been coerced into comitting treason against his country. We can also argue that the young soldier trusts the officers who have sent him there. We can argue that man is by its nature a discoverer, and that discovering his former enemy is no more strange to him than discovering mirrors, water or stairs. Plato would argue that the young soldier has already met the Belkans in the prev