December 7, 2017.

First, François woke him up with kisses and talked with him as he got ready. He was calling him handsome and saying all this nice stuff. Then, he was given a special uniform. It was dark brown and looked like what the Americans wore in the Revolution with the Vagian flag on the right shoulder. He had black boots instead of the silly yellow ones he always wears. He was given a hat with a red feather sticking out and black gloves.

He stepped outside at eight in the morning. Cameras and lights were flashing in his eyes. He took pictures with Mr. Porkman, the owner of their company, and the man that made this all happen. He was a fat man. It was comical seeing the size difference between them. François, White, and all his friends were standing around the plane. He tried not to look at Franny too much, but they stole a few cheeky glances. Kim was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

Before he could get on, he must give the speeches. He had these ready for months, though he was still a bit shaky. He looked into the crowd. He saw his family sitting in front, cheering him on. He didn't recognize them at first. Valentino grew facial hair and Susu bleached her hair blonde, both looking older. His uncle looked the same apart from a few wrinkles. His mother, however, looked like she aged fifty years in only three. Her once long brown hair was cut to her shoulders and fully gray. Her eyes looked miserable. His father took a 180. He was balding, gained more than a few pounds, and now had glasses.

"Hello, everyone. My name is General Lloyd Sauveterre, and today, on December 7th, 2017, I'll be flying our first company made airplane. Hopefully, it won't be our last!" That earned a few laughs and a smirk from his father. "I will fly to Coia and bomb their bases. With this, we expect the war to come to an end somewhere next year."

The crowd roared. Everyone was tired of this war. Tired of the sleepless nights in fear of the Coian planes bombing their houses. Tired of rations. Tired of dying.

"I'll like to thank a few close people. Without them, all this wouldn't be possible. First, thank you to Mr. Jo Porkman, his workers, and President Bsa for starting our wonderful company and for this making of this plane."

Porkman walked up to shake Lloyd's hand and stood next to him.

"Second, a big thank you to my fellow cadets and my battalion. You work so hard without complaint. You fight in the blazing sun or in the heart of bitter winter such as this one. I'm grateful to fight and grow beside you all."

His friends almost cried as his eager soldiers chanted: "To the general! To the general!" They were all speaking different languages and were from all over the globe. Some were mixed like him. It made him feel a certain type of pride that's hard to explain, but it was there. "At ease, my dear soldiers."

After they relaxed, he got emotional. He didn't cry, but his voice cracked more than once. "To my family and friends. Although some of you couldn't make it here in person, I know you're watching from your televisions." He waved at the cameras to Sarah, Annie, Charles, Haruki, and everyone he knew in France. The crowd laughed.

"To those of you here, I express my deepest gratitude and respect to you. Due to your endless support, determination, and good-spirts, I'm the man and general I am today. I truly I don't know what I would've done without you." He saw Valentino crying and hugging Susu. "To my parents, Beom Doh and Marie Sauveterre, I'm honored to be your son. I can't apologize enough for the anguish my absence must've caused, and I can't even begin to thank you for what you've done for me throughout my life. I can only hope I've brought honor to our families' names." Many old people in the audience cried as the rest cheered and whistled. He saw his uncle give a thumbs up, a bit uncomfortable because he didn't know what else to do. He saw his parents, teary-eyed and never looking more proud. How he longed to be held by them.

He cleared his throat. "These two final speeches are for two very special people I've met. The first one is for General Angel O. White. White, what to say?" The spotlight briefly shined on him. He laughed and blushed. "Throughout our time together, from the Battle of Lipari to now, you've been a shoulder to lean on. You've comforted me and showered me in your warmth in Germany, brought me laughter in Serbia, and fought with me in Japan. You are a bright light in the darkness and sourness of war. May your soul be blessed with only the sweetest fruit and brightest gold our world could offer. Thank you, White."

White was sobbing and smiling at Lloyd, who turned around and gave him the warmest smile.

"My last speech I've saved for someone that has changed my life the most, Corporal François Dauphiné." The light showed the bashful and already crying redhead to the audience. Lloyd looked at him, his eyes full of love. Then looked forward. "Although I've known him the shortest out of all my friends, he's been able to creep his way into my heart and bring it happiness and courage. He's taken care of our ill and injured with grace and fondness. In his eyes of blue, there's tenderness and gratitude for all living things. In his intelligent mind, there's openness and understanding that only a few souls can match. And in his heart, there's gold and sweetness that would make any angel bow down to. I'm honored to be by your side, Corporal Dauphiné."

Lloyd looked at him again. François was melting. If only he could tell the world about their affection, but not yet. He turned to the crowd one last time and wished them well. They were crying and cheering as he climbed the steps to his plane and closed the door. He could see them through his circular tinted window. They looked so tiny, but White and François were as clear as day. He waved to them, though they couldn't see him. He saw Porkman walk up to give his final speech.

"Alright folks, this is it! You are witnessing history!" His voice was shaking with excitement, getting the crowd anxious and jumping in their seats. "Sauveterre, take off when you're ready!"

Someone spoke to him through the plane's microphone. "Take off, now!"

He started the plane, and it sounded absolutely perfect. The plane flew up and went north. He heard the crowd cheers getting softer and softer as the person congrated him and wished him an easy flight.

-----------------------------

It was four hours in when something went terribly wrong. He already bombed most of the country, but then, it happened.

Someone shot the wing on his plane. He didn't allow himself to panic. He took the Coian plane down and was trying to fly back to Vagu, but they kept shooting at him, one getting in his side.

"VOUS M'ENTENDEZ?!"

He looked down. Jesus! The synagogue! It was full of people! Now panicking, he was able to move to an open field. He got up to search for a parachute.

There's no parachute.

Dizzy, in pain, and with lights and sirens giving him a headache, he opened the door. The wind made his eyes water as he heard the gunshots. He jumped. It would be better than bursting into flames with the plane.

Everything went slow as wind danced in his hair and ears. He screamed as loud as he could. He clunged to his Star of David necklace. He didn't want to die anymore.

His head hit the sharp side of Brady Mountain.

There was no more screaming. The blood made a messy and long trail as the body continued to fall, the wind leading him left and right. Gunshots and cannons blasted, and the screams of civilians and soldiers filled the air as the plane crashed into the field. It exploded and set on fire when it fell, burning trees and wheat around it. The black clouds made it easy for the pilot to remain unseen.

The limp body plummeted into the river, breaking the ice and quickly sinking down. The water turned scarlet. The waves hugged the body and pulled it down. Then, the body woke up and fought the waves. It pulled its way back up and pushed the ice, climbing out and limping away into a bush.

"Oh my God!" Lloyd wheezed as he choked and gasped on cold.

He took a long look at himself. His side ached and was bright red. His uniform was ripped, allowing more cuts and bruises to show. His leg burned. His head throbbed as he wobbled back up, falling twice before finally being able to stand. His hair was turning black.

His grandmother had that same problem. When she was dying as she gave birth to her last child, Lloyd's uncle, her black hair and dark eyes turned as white as snow. By the time he was out, she was dead, and her eyes were a pale shade of gray.

He heard rapid footsteps and shouting coming. He had to run and run he did. He didn't feel any pain and tiredness. They were shooting at him, two getting in his arm and torso.

Quick.

He saw their flag. The mockery, the shame. He grabbed the red and black flag and ran to the fire that was once his plane. He put it in the fire and stood on the hill as the soldiers stopped.

"Where's your king?!" He yelled at the general. "Where's your queen?! They aren't here for you! They don't give a damn about you!"

He plunged the sharp and hot end in the general's brown eye. The man screamed and fell to the ground, desperately trying to pull it out. Lloyd kicked his face, feeling the nose break beneath him. He died before he stopped. He stole his gun and pointed at his scared soldiers.

"You're cowards! Not coming to your general's aid! Where's your patriotism?!"

They ran as he shot wildly, killing two of them. He ripped the flag out the eye and set everything around him on fire. If he's going down, they're coming with him.

--------------------------------

It was ten hours since the flight. Beom and Marie were frantic as they watched the tv for the latest updates. Lloyd had managed to set half the small country on fire and was a sitting duck as they searched for him, casually shooting at him when they saw him. François and White were flying over there right now to bring him to Sweden, the place where all the soldiers were waiting for him to celebrate.

Everyone was proud of him, saying this was the biggest victory yet. But his parents, they were never so scared before in their lives. Susu already passed out when he was first shot and still wasn't feeling well. Her father was comforting and supporting her. He's not good at showing emotions, but his children know they're loved, and he makes sure they're alright like now.

In a way, they were envious. He could take care and keep his child safe, and theirs was an island away, being searched for so he could be killed. Valentino couldn't watch. He couldn't see his little brother like that. He was phoning everyone he could. He even called Mulligan. That's how the family found out about the engagement and cheating.

"Boum, notre bébé! Notre bébé!" She cried as she pointed to the TV. They saw Lloyd carrying a gun and shooting at people. He was shot in the leg and started limping before hiding again.

They failed so horribly. This was their punishment, having to watch the slow death of their child. They wanted to jump into the TV and take every bullet for him every time he screamed in pain. They should've never let him leave. They should've taped him to his bed and forced him to stay. But they didn't.

-------------------------

"I CAN'T FIND HIM! I CAN'T SEE HIM!"

"FRANÇOIS, ¡CALLATE LA MIERDA! ¡NECESITO ENFOCARME!"

François was sobbing so violently that he got a nosebleed as he searched for Lloyd in the plane. It ached to see all those terrible people hunting their prey. Their prey was his baby.

Lloyd watched the planes fly above him. They wanted him, but he was going after everyone and everything. He shot maybe fifty people and killed at least thirty-five.

"HE'S HERE!"

He sprung up and shot the people around him. Suddenly, someone came walking up to him. A tall, thin figure came amongst all the dust and panic. He froze.

"Kim-"

He only saw his eyes. They were heartless, no glem. The glamour of their three years together were gone the moment he shot him in his stomach. That got him. Lloyd fell like a sack of potatoes, blood beginning to pour.

His parents both screamed as Valentino fainted.

Kim began to walk closer before the plane stopped, and the pilot waved a white flag. They gave up, but everyone knew they won. Kim rushed off before François could see him. His hyperventilating boyfriend grabbed him by his arms and pulled him into the plane.

"LLOYD! LLOYD!"

"LLOYD! WAKE UP!"

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME, YOU PROMISED!"

John Longstaff -THE SIRENS