//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: Splashdown (Part 1 – Prima ad Mare) [Reedit] 
// Story: No Better Friend, No Worse Enemy 
// by Green Hills 
//------------------------------//

	Princess Celestia stands on her balcony, gazing at the morning mist blanketing Equestria slowly disappear as her sun rises. Her horn glows in her signature golden yellow magic, as she fixates the sun to its morning position. Once her everyday task is complete, Celestia takes a quick glance over her land; the cool night air replaced by the summer morning wind. Before leaving her room, she hangs up her cape in a wardrobe, and exits.

She trots through the vast hallway of her castle. With all the windows open, letting in a fresh breeze, she feels the energy flow through her body, ready to tackle on today’s events. About halfway walking down the lengthy hallway, she notices her younger sister, Luna, standing outside on the balcony off to the right, staring towards east. Out of curiosity, Celestia walks over to the dark blue alicorn.

“My, my,” Celestia says as she approaches. Luna turns her head in surprise to see her older sister nearing her, then slowly returning to her original place.
“You’re up early, sister,” Celestia speaks again. “What has made you decide to get up?” The moon princess remains silent, which has mostly been a part of her since her return.
She turns her head again to Celestia. “A dream. That’s it.” Two short sentences, and Luna turns back.
Celestia smiles and stands next to her. “Who’s dream have you helped last evening?”
“It wasn’t somepony’s dream. It was… something else. It’s… difficult to explain.”
A good period of silence settles between the sisters, before Celestia finally speaks. “I see. Let us talk about it during breakfast.”





The morning sunlight enters through the window inside of the Golden Oaks Library, next to a sleeping mare. Twilight Sparkle rubs her sleepy eyes open and groggily sits up, with possibly the worst bed mane one has ever seen, and rustles out from under the blankets. Still rubbing her eyes and letting out a big yawn, she stumbles out of bed, ignoring the books and crumpled papers that scatter across her floor, and shuffles to the bathroom. However, upon approaching the mirror, Twilight nearly trips backwards at the sight of her messy hair. After grumbling to herself, she sets up a timer to three minutes, and begins brushing her teeth with her horn. When the timer rings, she finishes up, and resets it to five minutes and combs her tangled mane.

Now freshened up, Twilight trots out of her bathroom, and takes a backpack with her magic over her back. Once snuggly fit, she then turns to a basket next to her bed, which lays her sleeping assistant.
“Spike,” she whispers in a singsong voice. The purple dragon moans and turns in his basket. “Spike, wake up.”
“Nn… ngh…”
Twilight walks up to Spike’s bed and nudges him a little, finally waking him up. “Spike, wake up. Today’s the day.” Spike yawns before dragging himself out of the basket, rubbing his eyes.
“Geez, Twilight,” he murmurs while taking another yawn, showing off his four still-growing fangs, and checking his alarm clock tucked next to him. “It’s like, six in the morning.”

Twilight chuckles softly as her magic lights up again, and the scattered books and paper lift up in her aura. In one smooth motion, they all return to their original places in the bookshelves, the desk and garbage bin.
“Of course,” she says as she levitates one book into her bag. “Remember what we discussed last week?”
“Twilight, you’ve been reminding me about this beach trip about five times a day for the past two months,” Spike exaggerates in an annoyed tone as he climbs out of his basket. Twilight merely grins at her assistant and tosses a smaller backpack at him with her magic.
“Well, I hope you’re excited, then. This is really our first time heading to the beach.” The unicorn giggles at herself as the book is neatly placed in her bag. “And with this, I can study more on marine biology.”
“Come on, Twilight. This is supposed to be a vacation with our friends. Remember the letter Princess Celestia sent before?”
“I know. That’s why I’m bringing my telescope for stargazing while we’re there. It gives a much better view when you’re away from cities and towns.” Spike sighs heavily, and stumbles his way downstairs with his backpack in his arms. He doesn’t bother trying to get his reasons through that thick skull of hers. To his thoughts, Twilight thinks a vacation would be going out for study purposes or to just research on the place they will be going to.

Spike drops his bag by a bookshelf when he reaches the main living room of the library. As he makes his way to the kitchen, with the thought of coffee tugging his mind, the front door knocks three times.
“I got it!” Spike yells, knowing Twilight will be shouting for him to open it. When he opens the front door, there stands an orange earth pony with blonde tied up mane, and a brown Stetson over her head. She too has a backpack hanging wrapped over her.

“Mornin’ Spike,” Applejack greets.
“Hey, Applejack,” the dragon responds with another yawn.
“Up a bit early, I see?” she jokes as Spike lets her in.
“I’m just not a morning dragon,” is Spike’s truthful answer. As he about to close the door, a flash of pink rushes inside with a gush of strong wind tailing behind, nearly blowing Spike off his feet, followed by a loud scream inside the room.

“Beeeeeeach!!” Pinkie Pie cheers as she runs in circles around the room, holding the note for a terribly long minute. Applejack finally snatches Pinkie’s tail with her mouth. The velocity stretches Pinkie’s tail like a rubber band until she comes to a full abrupt stop, before finally retracting back to its normal form.
“Woah there, Sugarcube,” Applejack says after letting go of her tail.
“Boy, is somepony excited for the beach today,” Twilight comments as she trots downstairs to meet with her friends.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so excited!” Pinkie jumps up and down excitedly like a kid on a rush of sugar, a trait she is easily known for. “It’s gonna be the best beach trip ever! I got so many things I just don’t know what to bring so I brought them all even though the Cakes will be a bit mad at me and the sack is a bit too heavy so I asked Dashie to carry it for me because she’s strong and I’m not so strong but she said no because she has her own stuff so I begged her for at least another fifteen minutes until Rarity came along so I asked her if she could—!”
“Pinkie!” Applejack shouts. Pinkie stops her spastic story and turns to the orange mare, still springing up and down. Applejack manages to stop her bouncing by holding her down to the ground with a hoof on her head.
“Take a breather there,” she says. “We don’t want ya’ passing out, now.” Applejack slowly removes her hoof from Pinkie’s head, the pink pony now stopped from jumping like an automated spring.
“Wait, so, where are Dash and Rarity?” Twilight asks scratching her head to piece together what Pinkie said.

They are then interrupted by the sound of several grunts and clanks emerging from outside. As the three ponies and dragon stare out, a cyan colored pegasus with a rainbow mane dragging a large heavy sack by a rope, and a white unicorn with a curly neat violet mane pushing against it. The sack is at least the size of the ponies. Both of the mares finally stop in front of the door to take a breather.

“G-geez, Pinkie!” Rainbow Dash wheezes. “How much… stuff did you pack?!”
“I… I agree with Rainbow Dash, dear,” Rarity lays on the sack, also catching her breath. “You really… d-didn’t need to get… everything, you know?”
“I know, I know!” Pinkie happily starts jumping lightly around them. “It’s just that we’re going to the beach and I don’t know what to bring so I packed a lot of stuff even though the Cakes would be mad at me but I just don’t know—!”
“Pinkie!” the blue pegasus shouts. “You’re doing it again!” Pinkie quickly closes her mouth, but her bouncing never ends.
“Sorry, Dashie. It’s just that it’s so exciting to go to the beach!” She jumps in the air and performs a backflip the moment she finishes her sentence.

Spike nudges Twilight by her leg and whispers. “You think Pinkie had sugar for breakfast before she got here?” Twilight shrugs and gives a small smirk as they watch the pink mare bounce around the large sack.
“Well, then,” Applejack begins once Pinkie settles down. “Is everypony accounted fo’?”
“Hold on.” Rarity raises a hoof. “We’re forgetting Fluttershy.”
“Oh yeah.” Applejack scratches her head, wondering how she did not notice that.
“Let’s hope she didn’t forget those train tickets,” Rainbow mentions with a wave of her hoof to the two mares.
“She’s probably just takin’ care of her pets as usual,” Applejack turns to the pegasus hovering above. “Ya’ know how she is.”

Another minute later, a butter-colored pegasus with a smooth light pink mane rushes over to the tree library. A bag is strapped on to her back, including a white rabbit riding.
“Speaking of which,” Rarity adds as the ponies turn their heads. Fluttershy finally reaches the door completely out of breath.
“O-oh my gosh,” she softly says panting. “I uh, I’m sorry if I, uh, I’m a bit late. Am I late? Did we miss—?”
“Don’t worry, darling,” Rarity settles down Fluttershy, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “You’re just in time.”
“O-oh, thank goodness,” Fluttershy breathes a heavy relief. “I… I thought I was, uh, y-you know… be late…”
“Don’t sweat it, Sugarcube,” Applejack reassures the timid pegasus.
“I hope you have the tickets, right Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash crosses her forelegs, showing her usual ‘you are done if you do not have them’ look.
“O-oh, yeah— yes. I have them,” Fluttershy answers. The little white bunny sitting on her back reaches into one of her pouches, pulls out an envelope, and tosses it to Rarity, who catches it with her magic.
“Perfect,” Twilight says happily.

The group walks out of the library, Twilight locking the door and placing on a CLOSED sign.
“Everypony ready?!” Rainbow Dash says excitedly, thrusting her hoof in the air.
“Sure am,” Applejack nods, and so do the rest of the friends.
“Well? What are we waiting for?” Spike says.
“Let’s go!” Pinkie Pie cries out, spring in the air behind her large bag. “To the beach!” She lifts the heavy sack with her snout, tossing it in the air, and letting it land on her back without showing a hint of struggle. She then starts trotting away with the sack on her back like it is nothing, leaving Rainbow and Rarity in complete awe and confusion.
“H-how?!” Rainbow throws her hooves out, completely dumbfounded.
“I… really don’t get that,” Rarity sighs, and the two ponies follow suit.

“I did some research of the location we’ll be staying at,” Twilight explains to her friends. “The area Princess Celestia recommended is supposed to be beautiful.”
“Well, that should be nice,” Rarity contemplates.
“Yeah,” Spike adds. “And the princess said the beach we’ll be going to has been barely touched by anypony. It’s almost like we’ll be having beach all to ourselves, right Twilight?”
“Yes,” Twilight agrees. “And it is said that it is in a perfect place for stargazing.”
“Well, it’s sure nice the princess offered us a vacation after the Crystal Empire,” Applejack says.
“Yeah,” Rainbow says, hovering above the farmpony. “It’s nice to take a break once in a while.”
Applejack rolls her eyes. “Well, I know somepony who does that every time.” Unfortunately, Rainbow Dash didn’t get whom the orange mare is referring to.

“Alright,” Twilight continues. “When we get on the train, it should take us about five and a half hours to White Tail Woods. Then another few to the beach, I think.”
“Well, that’s not so bad,” Rarity says. “White Tail Woods is nice… compared to the Everfree…”
She then veers her eyes behind as they prepare to leave town. “I just hope I won’t come back to my place burned to the ground…” she mumbles.
“Don’t worry,” Applejack nudges her side. “Ya’ lil’ sis will be alright with mine ‘n Scootaloo at the barn. ‘Sides, maybe you can bring her a souvenir.”
“Like?” Rarity raises an eyebrow.
Applejack shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe we’ll find somethin’ interesting along the way.”




LCpl. Kevin Brooke
2nd Battalion 1st Marines
Unknown Location, Unknown Date Day 1 Unknown Time



“The operation is complete, Your Highness.”
“Good. Where are they now?”
“They should be exiting soon.”
“Hmm, very well. Let’s see what our new visitors will experience. Send a message to the lord. ‘Thank you for your cooperation. The tests are complete.’”
“Yes, my Queen. What should we do when they arrive?”
“Be patient. There are a few things I wish for them to do. If it doesn’t go to plan, it won’t matter. We’ll proceed to the next step.”

I see nothing but brightness through my eyelids. That’s all I see. When I crack open my eyes, my vision is blurry, but I can make out what is in front of me. The first thing I notice is I’m lying on the ground. The familiar smell of burned gunpowder and metal fills my nose, and my senses start kicking in. With my eyes still blinded by whiteness, I can feel the dozens of empty cartridges all around me. My body feels weak. My shoulders, arms and hands feel sore from firing my weapon at those bug-looking creatures and the crystal. Crystal… Creatures…

It suddenly dawns on me. We were attacked! That crystal. Those insects. The carrier strike group. Those voices. Who were those voices that spoke? The first sounded like a woman, while the second had a more scruffy high-pitched voice.

I struggle to lift myself off the ground, but my hands slip on the bullet cases, dropping me back down. After brushing them away, with whatever strength I have, I achingly lift myself off the floor until I am sitting and lean against the guardrail. I rub my eyes to clear away the blurriness while catching my breath. As my eyesight becomes vivid, the first thing I see is Michaels about three feet away from my left. His eyes are firmly shut, his teeth are gritting and he is gripping tightly to the railing. I slowly reach over and tap on his shoulder lightly. Michaels peels one eye open, the first thing he sees is I.
“B-Br…” His voice stutters as the second eye opens and he slowly loosens his grip. I look around, noticing Staff Sergeant Alcatraz coming around. He turns to us and quickly gets up.
“B-Brooke, Michaels. Yo-you guys okay?” Still silent and trying to wrap our minds to what happened earlier, we both nod. We both turn to Private Pelayo and Corporal West. They are still knocked out.
“Is everyone okay?!” a sailor cries out. I try to lift myself to my feet, but my legs and arms feel like jelly, and I immediately collapse back on to the bullet covered floor.

“Fuckin’ christ, man…” I hear someone murmur.
Looking around the entire bridge wing, sailors are slowly waking up after that horrific battle. Some of them sustained scratches, while others are helping out the more seriously injured. Then, I see it. About a few meters away lying in the middle in front of me is the insect-looking creature, dead in a pool of its own blood in a gradient mix of cyan and bright green. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach, and quickly turn away from the gory sight.

But, I soon notice the surroundings almost immediately. We are all still on the USS Anchorage, and it seems the LPD is in one piece, hopefully. Everything around us, or the ship, is a vast white void. I take a quick look at the sailors trying to get up and help the injured, but all are caught in their gaze like I am. Mustering up the strength I have in my limp limbs, I hoist myself back up with the rail guard as support. I turn around, facing the bow of the ship. There is no ocean, no sky, and no sound, except for the small chatters of the worried people. There is nothing.

“Jesus Christ,” a sailor mutters, getting up in a panic moment to see what is going on. Eventually, Michaels slowly drags himself to stand up.
“My God,” he whispers, catching his breath while his voice is still trembling a little. “Where are we?”
“I… I don’t know,” I answer back. Looking down at my hands, I press them together. I can still feel. I can still hear. It doesn’t feel like I am dead. The more I think about it, the more I begin to question of what just happened after encountering the strange floating crystal, unless, it did something to us.

“H-hey, Kanye!” I hear Michaels’ voice cry out almost quietly, putting me out of my train of thought. I look down to see him helping up the Jamaican to his feet, when Pelayo begins to stir. I quickly limp over to the private.
“Pelayo, hey.” I snap my fingers to get his attention. When the young Marine regains consciousness, he snaps his head to all sides, panic settling all over him.
“Wh-what happened?! What’s goin— what?! Wh-where…?!” Pelayo cries out, flailing his arms about until I grab hold to them.
“Pelayo! Pelayo! It’s okay!” Slowly, but surely, Pelayo slows down his heavy breathing. His eyes dart around at the background before they finally fix on me.
“Wh-what happened?” he asks, sweat still pouring down his face. “A-are we dead?”
“I don’t think so,” a sailor next to me answers.

Commander Gaines assists a quartermaster, who has a large gash on his arm. Looking around, everything still looks the same. Besides over half of the windows shattered and cracked, and majority of the crewmen in the bridge are wounded. Some sailors are running about helping others who are in more critical condition. The rest, however, are staring outside in disbelief.
“What the hell?” one of them mutters.
“C-commander? Where are we?” another asks.
The commander shakes his head, utterly speechless of what is happening. “I…I don’t know…” Gaines makes his way to the windows, enduring the pain of cuts on his cheek and forearms. He stares outside at the endless white void.
“What the hell is going on?” a third sailor says.

Gaines ignores the sailor as he snaps his neck back and forth around the bridge in a frantic manner. Everything is quiet, too quiet. There is an occasional soft hum like wind being heard from outside in this unknown realm, but even that no one can feel a breeze. Panic begins to slowly emerge from the crewmen. Hyperventilation turns to questionings and two or more cries. The commander feels his head begin to ache, like this is some bad nightmare. But, he needs to stay focused. He needs to keep his sailors from going out of control.

“Everyone! Quiet!!” Gaines shouts at the top of his lungs, finally putting whatever men and women he has left in the bridge at rest. “I—I know we’re all scared of what happened earlier today! First thing’s first! I want half of you to take care of the wounded! The rest of us will figure out what happened! Go!” The whole room replies in regular tone an ‘aye aye, sir’, and begins moving.
“Gallin, what’s the status on the ship’s controls,” the commander orders to the petty officer behind the helm.
“Nothing’s working, sir. All power is down. I can’t get anything on.”
“Raikes, Grant. What about the ship’s monitors?”
“I got nothing on my screen, sir,” Raikes replies.
“None of the ship’s monitors are working!” Grant announces.
“What about radios, sensors, radars? Anything!” The commander’s tone in voice becomes more frantic.
“Negative sir!” a sailor shouts behind a monitor. “Everything on this ship is dead!”

The whole bridge becomes dead silent. All eyes are turned towards Commander Gaines trying hard to not breathe too fast. Instead, he leans forward against a monitor as he gazes out of the shattered window. He rubs his sweating forehead, feeling a sting from the sweat pouring into one of his cuts.
“Shit…” he whispers.

“The hell’s going on?” I ask, turning to the bridge as most of the sailors rush inside, while we and a few others stay behind. None of the others respond. Looking around, I can tell so much is going on in their minds. Even I cannot tell what is going on. Are we dead? If we’re not, where are we? What happened?

My mind quickly takes me back to focus, when a flash of color passes by before I blink, followed by an unfamiliar sound. The sound is almost as if a sword is being drawn out of its sheaf, as it passes the ship. Everyone falls silent.
“The fuck was that?” a person asks. I look around to see everyone scanning the white void for anything. Then, the sound echoes by again, except no color passes. We all freeze.

A minute whizzes by, and a couple of colors flash in a ring-like fashion around the ship, causing nearly all of us to flinch. The same sound appears every time the colors pop up.
“The hell?” More colored rings hurtle by at a much faster rate with the sound appearing more often, as if we are in hyperspace in some movie.

The ship suddenly starts to vibrate beneath all our feet. My head begins to ache from the epilepsy. I use my hand to shield my eyes partially, as I watch the white void getting covered by the rainbow-colored rings.

Then, the fluorescent rings rapidly open up with a loud ‘hiss’. My eyes are blinded by the sudden brightness for a couple of seconds, and a gust of wind nearly knocks me back. When I adjust my vision, I lower my hand to a view that takes my breath away. Gazing upon the sight, I notice a bright blue sky with barely a cloud seen for miles, and an ocean so blue like I have never seen before. I feel a chill running all over my body as I breathe in the fresh ocean wind; so cool, and it feels so clean.

As much as I want to enjoy every bit of it, I snap back to my senses when something does not feel right. I glance around, noticing the ship is floating in the air.
“Wh-what the—?!” one of the sailors cries out, as the USS Anchorage prepares to dive into the calm ocean. I suddenly find myself latching on tightly to the guardrails, preparing for the roughest ride of all. Loud straining noises of metal emerge as the ship starts to drop.
“Oh shi—!!”

Like riding on the world’s wildest rollercoaster, the LPD dives into the sea, bow first. Water splashes everywhere, engulfing the bow completely before the ship hastily rises, throwing us backwards almost landing on top of the insect corpse and the blood puddle. I slip my grip and fall back, sliding around the floor with empty cartridges clanging, flying and rolling everywhere as the ship rocks violently in all directions. Everything in my surroundings is making me feel dizzy and sick.

It feels as though it will never end. Eventually, the vessel begins to calm down and blindly spin around after an endless minute of rolling. Everyone feels nauseous to their stomachs as they try to stand up. I grab on to the railing, and lift Michaels and myself to our feet. My body is deprived of energy, and my heart is beating so hard like never before.
“Y-you guys… o-okay?” one of the sailors manage to speak as he helps up Private Pelayo, and Staff Sergeant Alcatraz heaves Corporal West to his feet. I merely nod my head, unable to speak as I gasp to ease my adrenaline.
“J-Jesus Christ…” Alcatraz breathes.

Still firmly holding on to the guardrail with my life like hanging over the edge of a cliff, I turn my eyes without using my head. I can still feel the ship rocking in all directions as it slowly spins around, despite having it calmed down just a minute ago. Screams and shouts can be heard from the bridge as soon as everyone gets back up.
“Is everyone okay?!”
“Who’s injured?!”
“I need help over here!”

“F-fuckin’… hell,” Michaels leans forward, trying his best to hold in his stomach. However, Private Pelayo hangs over the edge with Corporal West patting him on the back as if he is throwing up, but I don’t hear him doing so.
“Everyone okay?” Alcatraz asks us, after leaning on the rails taking deep breaths, and still is.
“A-aye… Staff Sarge…” I manage to slur out as I try to keep still on my jelly-like legs. It feels as though I am back at boot camp after a whole day of nonstop intense training.

The Anchorage begins to slow down its spin, practically stopping after almost ninety degrees. I didn’t even bother looking around. I feel like an unused puppet, but I manage to stand on my own two legs. Then, something draws my attention.
“What the fuck…?” the sailor next to me mutters, gazing overhead off to the right. His face has gone pale, his eyes are wide and the pupils diminished. I look around, noticing the other sailors and my squad mates looking in the same direction, some of them their mouths agape. As I train my neck right and look up, I notice a large portal, glowing bright green around the edge and bright white in the center, floating above. Everyone completely stays silent as they stare the floating portal.

West mutters something in Patwa. Silence arises for just a minute, but it seems much longer. Before anyone could break the silence, the portal lets out a low ominous sound. Rings emerge from the edges to the center and quickly grow more rapid.
“The hell’s g-goin’ on?” Pelayo panics, stumbling back from the railing. Not a second later, the portal spews out a large ship in a loud ‘bang’; an Arleigh Burke-class destroyer. The straining metal sound reappears as it prepares to dive into the water next to the Anchorage. I feel my instincts kicking in while getting a glimpse of the ship’s hull number 112, and the rest of us grab on to anything.
“Brace!!”

Water jets out as the USS Michael Murphy plunges into the ocean. It sprays all over the starboard side of the Anchorage, a splash reaching over the bridge wing. We all tumble backwards as the LPD rides a large wave the destroyer created. As we try to get back up, we are quickly thrown back down by a violent jolt, and a straining sound of steel-on-steel colliding, the destroyer ramming into the starboard bow of the Anchorage.

I can barely feel anything around my body, as if every bone inside has been taken out. My legs are like cooked pasta as I try to hoist back up again. I take deep breaths to avoid the same fate as poor Pelayo.
“Y-you… okay, Eric?” I ask to Michaels. However, when I strain my neck to look at him, he too is trying to hold his stomach while giving me a thumb’s up.
“Th-the hell was that?!” a sailor cries out, getting up rather easily compared to the rest of us.

As soon as we manage to get up, we see the Michael Murphy now settling down, attached to the starboard side of the LPD like a magnet. The tip of her bow is completely dented at least a few meters or more inward, like the beak of a bird in a cartoon after a collision. A couple areas of the destroyer’s forward superstructure show minor scratches, splatters and dents from the gem encounter earlier.
“O-oh, my God!” Pelayo gasps, as we all stare at the destroyer in complete shock. Sailors on the superstructure and upper main deck in the middle get up and rush all around like ants.
“Holy fuck,” the sailor next to me heavily breathes.

I look back up at the portal, still floating above making the same low menacing sound again.
“Oh shit,” someone mutters, but I don’t know who as my eyes are still fixed at the swirl beginning to brighten. I take no chance and hug my body close to the guardrail.
“Incoming!” In another bright flash and a loud ‘hiss’, the portal shoots out a second destroyer.
“Oh fu—!” Michaels whines before the ship splashes down, creating a much bigger wave. We all stumble off our feet as the wave carries the Michael Murphy into the Anchorage once again. However, this wave is not as bad due to the Michael Murphy taking most of the force. I look over the railing, my legs not even responding as I try to get up. Like a little kid, I peer over the railing with my arms as support, spotting the second destroyer that is forcibly rising back up from beneath the water, and slowly floats until it stops tens of meters in front of the LPD. I recognize the hull number printed on the bow, 111. The USS Spruance. As far I can see, she doesn’t appear to have any minor damage.

Another sailor hurries and stops between Michaels and I, waving his arms frantically to hail the Spruance.
“Hey!!” he hollers. I shakily move my head down to the Michael Murphy, where I see a few other crewmen on the bridge wings doing the same thing.
“I’ve got ‘em! I’ve got ‘em!” the sailor cries out, racing back to the bridge. “Commander! I got…!”
“O-oh great,” Michaels grunts as he struggles to lift himself. “What next? A c-cruiser?”
“P-please,” I groan. “Don’t… jinx it.”
“J-just… stay sharp, M-Marines,” Staff Sergeant Alcatraz manages to speak after a while. Just hearing his tone of voice, I know he is not holding well in this wild water ride.

The portal floating in front whirs again, growing louder and louder every second. After at least five seconds, but feels forever, a ship, this time a Ticonderoga-class cruiser, spews out. At this point, I don’t even care anymore. I lazily grab hold of the railing, while the rest brace for their lives as the cruiser belly flops into the water.
“Brac—!” The cruiser splashes into the ocean, the main deck nearly completely submerged for a brief second before shooting back up. The waves shove the Spruance, dragging her stern into the Michael Murphy’s starboard bow. Still attached to the Anchorage, the sound of grinding steel is unbearable to our eardrums. I can barely get a glimpse of the cruiser rocking back and forth before letting go of my grip, all of my strength completely gone. I didn’t even bother getting back up, for all I know another ship maybe coming out anytime soon.

It seems forever once the waves have finally subsided, but I can still hear the faint clanks and feel the tiny jolts of the Anchorage occasionally getting bumped by the destroyer.
“O-oh God!” Michaels heaves, covering his mouth to try to keep his food inside. “How many ships went through that damn portal?!”
“D-did… did the whole fleet go through?” Pelayo asks rising quickly to take a look.
“D-don’t know!” Staff Sergeant Alcatraz responds as he helps me back on my limp feet. “Just… be ready for anything!” As of now, I’m already starting to get annoyed by Staff Sergeant’s orders.
“I don’t think I can…” I can hear Michaels say under his own breath, leaning over the railing, readying for the worst. I don’t blame him. Leaning forward, I see the cruiser still riding the waves it created, tens of meters away from making contact with the Spruance.
“Jesus, is that the Princeton?!” the sailor asks. I don’t want to know which ship it is, due to my nausea overpowering my brain.

Then, we are again interrupted by the same sound and look up. I wince the moment I see the portal preparing to spit out another ship. I pray for it to not be the USS Nimitz, or another destroyer.
“Th-there’s still m-more?” I spit out, clutching my vested stomach.
“Please be the last!” Pelayo pleads. “Please be the last!” We all wait, and watch the portal spin faster and faster, giving off several electric sparks.
“Oh, fuckin’ hell…” Michaels whines.

In a split second, another destroyer shoots out just as the portal collapses on its own with a bright flash and loud ‘bang’ that nearly bursts our ears. I shutter for a moment from the sudden affect. As soon as my eyes readjust, my whole body just freezes. Instead of looking at a destroyer falling, we only see half of it.
“Oh shit!” a voice cries out. The half vessel plunges into the water right next to the cruiser. The other end, the stern, is missing as if it was cut clean off. Before I can think of something, I can only hear very soft screams in the distance where the cruiser is floating.





Princess Celestia pats her mouth with a napkin held in her magic after finishing her breakfast, and listening to her sister’s story of her unknown dream. As far as Luna explained, last night, she has felt a magical presence occurred to the east of Equestria. Something Celestia have never sensed for so long. 

“I see,” Celestia says calmly, looking up to Luna sitting just across from her. “So you are not the only one who sensed that energy.”
Princess Luna perks her head up after taking a bite out of her breakfast with an almost surprised look, before replying. “You sensed it too?”
Celestia nods. “Indeed. I wasn’t so sure of myself from last night.”
The younger sister remains silent for a quick moment. “I have never felt a power like this before. How would thy put it…?”
“I understand, Luna,” the elder sister replies before taking a sip of her tea. “It’s a teleportation spell you have sensed.”
“How do you know?” Luna raises an eyebrow, keeping an eye on her sister while her head is pointed downward.
“I used it not too long ago.”
Luna lifts her head to straighten it, an unsure look forming on her face. “Define, ‘not too long ago,’ sister.”
“I think, around seventy or eighty years ago,” Celestia shrugs as she tries to remember. “It was an experiment from one of Starswirl’s incomplete teleportation spells.”
Luna blinks a couple times before relaxing back in her seat. “Well, it explains why I do not recognize the pattern.” She proceeds to continue her breakfast.
“How did it go?” she asks after finishing a bite. “Your… experiment?”
“I guess it was a success,” Celestia guesses calmly. “But, it had some setbacks.” Luna silently nods in reply.

Both princesses remain in an awkward silence. After savoring her favorite drink, Princess Celestia looks at her sister staring down at her unfinished plate with a worrisome expression.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll send a few guards to where we felt the magical presence,” she says. “Better to be safe than sorry.”
Luna cocks her head sideways slightly confused. “Where are Twilight Sparkle and her friends, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony?”
Celestia takes another sip of her tea, and places the cup down on her plate before responding. “They are on vacation. After their mission to the Crystal Kingdom, I believe they deserve a good reward. So, I encouraged them to a beach I recommended.”
“I see,” Luna softly answers, perking her head up and looking outside. “It would be nice.”
“Hmm?” Celestia lifts her ears while finishing her tea distracted her from Luna’s words.
“To go on vacation,” her sister sighs. “Be away from political views, to relax, have fun, not to worry about a thing in the world.” Celestia takes the last sip of her drink, and smiles at her sister not even paying attention to her surroundings.
“It would be.” Celestia lowers her head, repeating her own words, wondering when was the last time she went on vacation.





A faint glow blinks in the middle of the sky not too far from the capital city of Equestria. Like a bright star blinking in the daytime, the light flickers until it slowly grows bigger in size. Noise emerges like something is being powered as the flicker turns into a swirling vortex. In a matter of seconds, and a loud ‘bang’, a helicopter bursts out just as the vortex closes in on itself.

“The hell…?!” the copilot of the MH-60S, call sign Sparrow 2-1, shouts just when the Seahawk begins to lose control.
“Shit! What the hell?!” The pilot twists his neck to look around frantically as he feels the chopper beginning to spin. He jerks the joystick to counter it, when the sound that the crewmen fear the most enters their ears. Both pilots and crew behind can feel and hear the engines and all systems shutting down in almost an instant.
“Oh, shit. Shit! Shit! Shit!” The two pilots start flicking switches and pressing buttons in a panic manner to get their helicopter back online.
“All systems are failing!” Both pilots shift the sticks to the opposite side to battle against the wild spin as they plummet to the ground.
“Mayday, mayday! This is Sparrow Two-one! We are going down in an unknown area… power systems are not responding— fuck!”
“Altimeter, speedometer, lights! Everything!” The pilot presses the emergency buttons on the overhang to restart the rotors. Nothing responds as the last bit of electricity through the panels fails. “Come on, you sonuvabitch!”
“Macwell!” the copilot turns around to one of the crew chiefs behind a small panel. “What’s the status on that panel?!”
“Panel’s dead! I can’t get power running through!” the crew chief states, grabbing on to anything solid within arms reach, and holding for dear life.

The MH-60S suddenly jolts violently as it hits a wind current, throwing it into a deadly spin. The four men feel the G-force pressing against them from the side, the two pilots pushing the joystick further in the opposite direction to subdue the helicopter.
“Selecting emergency power unit!” the copilot shouts, struggling to endure the G-force while flicking several switches. Nothing responds. Through the spinning, both pilots manage to catch a blurry glimpse of a castle sitting on the side of a mountain closing in fast.
“C-Captain!” the copilot warns.
“I know, Geronne! I fuckin’ saw it!” The pilot slams his feet against the pedals, trying to avoid collision. “Come on, you bitch! Come on!” The chopper turns sideways, slowly shifting itself towards the castle.
“I got no control on the pedals!”

The pilot begins to panic the closer they approach the castle on the mountain, with less than a minute to spare. With every problem his copilot screams, he feels as though the grip he is holding starts to wear down. With one last chance, he steers the stick to the right, barely moving the Seahawk as it heads straight for one of the towers of the castle.
“Brace for impact!!”

The tail slams into the shingled roofs on one of the towers, putting the chopper in a wild spin and snapping the tail apart from the fuselage, only to be clinging by a stretch of metal. The Seahawk sails over the castle walls safely by meters, before making a plunge at the edge of a town not too far. The rotor blades chip away the dirt road, breaking off pieces as the chopper makes a violent landing. The sound of metal being torn and bent engulfs the crew’s ears, the helicopter spinning in circles while heading straight for the town. The Seahawk makes a jump in the air after going over a small bump, and bashes into the corner of a house before screeching to a stop in one of the main streets.

The only sound he hears is something dripping, the faint clanking noise of metal and rubble falling to the ground, and last bit of power flowing through the Seahawk slowly die away. When the captain slowly opens his eyes, he is greeted by a surge of pain on his face, abdomen and legs. His visor is shattered, and feels blood oozing out from areas from his face. As his vision begins to clear, he looks down to see a metal object piercing through his stomach, and his legs being trapped under the twisted metal. He shakily turns to his copilot, only to find him leaning forward with a sharp metal piece protruding from his neck, along with several large cuts along his face, and arms twisted. He didn’t make it, the captain knows, but he wonders if the other two crewmembers behind did.

The pilot’s vision slowly returns to its blurry state and closes his eyes. He feels his lungs being constricted by the seatbelts holding him in place, making it difficult and painful to breathe. He opens his eyes once more, and looks straight ahead. He notices the all the houses and buildings are like mansions, and are colorful. He moves his eyes down at the street, spotting something unfamiliar. Several quadrupedal creatures, which look like horses, emerge from almost every corner of the houses, all of them in a variety of colors as well. He closes his eyes once more, the pain within his body becoming unbearable, before he hears a faint rumbling noise coming from behind the wreckage.





A young filly exits the farmhouse after having breakfast. With a bright yellow coat, and a mane as red as apples she sees hanging in the apple tree farm stretching for acres, tied up with a pink bow at the back of her head. The filly takes a deep breath of the fresh air as another beautiful summer day arises, looking over Sweet Apple Acres. She must enjoy this moment while she can.

As she is about to close the door, her grandmother calls out to her. “Don’t stay out for too long, Apple Bloom. You may have to help out your big brother since Applejack went out with her friends.”
Apple Bloom lets out a soft sigh, but not showing it to her grandmother, when she heard her older sister’s name. “Don’t worry Granny Smith! I’ll be at the clubhouse if Big Mac needs anything!” Apple Bloom shuts the door and trots through the well-organized forest of apple trees.

After walking through the apple tree farm, and grabbing a few apples along the way, the filly comes out into a small open field, where a large lone tree sits almost in the middle with a small clubhouse built in. Apple Bloom walks up and enters the clubhouse, finding a dark orange pegasus with short light purple hair, and a white unicorn with a curly dual colored mane.
“Mornin’,” Apple Bloom says as she enters and closes the door.
“Hey, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo says before quickly returning to a small piece of paper between her and the unicorn.
“Morning Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle says in a calm pristine manner, much like her older sister. Apple Bloom trots over to her two friends, giving them each an apple.
“Sorry I was late,” Apple Bloom says taking a bite from her apple. “My sis’ left early so I had to wait for Big Mac to make breakfast.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” Sweetie Belle says in a monotone voice.
Scootaloo flips her fore hooves in the air and lies down on the floor with a loud groan. “Ugh! This is so unfair! How come they get to go to the beach and we don’t?! Plus, I’m out of ideas!”
“Well, we have a week of summer vacation left. And they’ll be staying there for a week n’ a half,” Apple Bloom explains, earning a grim look from the pegasus.

The three fillies let out a frustrated sigh, trying to figure out what other ways to receive their cutie marks. But now, they feel incredibly bored and jealous since their older sisters and friends went to the beach and not taking them along. But, Apple Bloom does have a point. They only have a week left of summer vacation, and Twilight Sparkle and her friends will be staying at the beach longer. And, the first day of school is the most important.

“So,” Apple Bloom begins, playing with one of the apples with her hoof. “You got any ideas for our cutie marks?”
“We could try sewing,” Sweetie Belle suggests.
Scootaloo, still lying on the floor, raises her hoof. “We did that a couple weeks ago. Remember what happened?”
“Oh yeah. That…” Sweetie remembers that time perfectly where the Cutie Mark Crusaders tried sewing in Rarity’s boutique, and instead, made a mess that Sweetie’s sister kicked them out. It brings up a small smile on Sweetie when she remembered her older sister’s face the minute she walked in.

Before any of the Cutie Mark Crusaders could open their mouths to say what they want to do, a loud ‘boom’ from outside interrupts them.
“What was that?” Scootaloo gets up and races over to the window. Her ears flicker and her eyes widen in awe when she spots something massive spinning violently down, making a peculiar rapid ‘whup-whup’ noise.
“Woah!” she exclaims, placing her two hooves on the window. “Check this out! There’s something falling from the sky!” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom race out the door to get a better view of the falling object. They spot what appears to be a large beast spinning out of control while descending at a fast pace. The whirring sound becomes louder, as the three fillies can make out the ‘whup-whup’ from the spinning thin wings on the object’s back. The object bounces off the ground with a loud screech of metal being bent and scraped, as it tumbles into the apple tree farm. It smashes through several trees; the twirling blades on its back begin to shatter and dissipate all over as they smack almost everything in its path. After slamming and toppling trees for about fifty meters, the beast finally comes to a rest in the middle of the apple tree farm, leaving a shallow trench and uprooted trees in its wake.

The three fillies stare in complete shock and awe of what they just witnessed, unable to speak from the excitement.
“That,” Scootaloo trembles a little. “Was. Awesome!” She springs out of the window to the ground. “Come on! Let’s go see what it is!”
“Wh-what?!” Sweetie Belle shrieks. “Y-you can’t be serious!”
“Well, what do you think we should do?”
“We should, like, alert somepony! Call for help! We don’t know what it is! For all we know, i-it could be a dragon!”
“Nah. Didn’t look like a dragon to me,” Apple Bloom intervenes. “Dragons have like these huge wings on their backs. That fella’ didn’t have wings, except some spin’y top thingy.”
“W-well, still—”
“Aw, come on, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom nudges the unicorn. “I think it wouldn’t hurt just to check it out.”
“W-well, I don’t know…” A thought quickly erupts in Sweetie’s head, like a light bulb switching on. “Oh! Maybe they’re, like, aliens! They did come from the sky!”
“And we can tell the press for this!” Apple Bloom adds in. “And maybe we’ll get our cutie marks for spotting aliens!”
Together, both fillies give each other a high-hoof, and cry out. “Cutie Mark Crusaders alien spotting!”
“Come on, you guys!” Scootaloo shouts from a distance, already moving ahead to the object. “Unless you don’t wanna see something brilliant!”

The three fillies follow the trail left by the large object, spotting it almost on its side before they entered the apple tree farm. The object is big, and has a light grey color. They pass a large part that was torn off leaning against an apple tree; it is the same color, but it is incredibly massive as the fillies walk up close to it. By the looks of it, it appears to be a tail, an oddly shaped tail according to them.

Sweetie Belle approaches the severed tail with caution while Scootaloo and Apple Bloom stay behind, waiting to see what happens. Sweetie never realized until now the height of this weird vertical fin almost reaches the top of the apple tree. It perfectly stands on what remains of the tail, with a bended second fin connected symmetrically and supported by a pole underneath. Looking upwards towards the top is a large four-bladed fan, or, was a large four-bladed fan. One is still intact, two are cut to approximately half the size, and one is completely missing.
“Well?” Apple Bloom asks from behind.
“Um, I think it’s a tail,” Sweetie Belle scratches the side of her head, unsure of her answer. She takes a few more steps until she is inches from the tail. Looking up at it again, it feels as though she is looking straight up towards one of the princesses. Sweetie squints her eyes when she notices two letters covering over a fourth of the vertical fin. YP. Sweetie looks down at where the tail is severed. Her stomach feels as if it has turned upside down when she sees some dark fluids leaking out through tiny hoses. Slowly, the filly raises her hoof, and mustering up whatever courage she has, gently touches the surface of the tail.
“Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom whispers loudly to try and stop her. However, Sweetie already has her hoof on the surface. Surprisingly, it is made of metal, and nothing happens.
Relieved, Sweetie Belle turns back around and giggles. “Don’t worry. It’s just made of metal.” Apple Bloom breathes a sigh of relief, but Scootaloo does not seem too amused.
“Alright, alright,” she says in a boring tone, waving her hoof in the direction to the large entity just a few ten meters away. “Come on! I wanna see what that thing is!”
“Wait up!” Sweetie cries out as she races to catch up with her two friends already on the move.

“What do you think it is?” Apple Bloom asks as the Cutie Mark Crusaders slowly approach the giant entity sitting in the trench it created.
“Ooh, ooh!” Sweetie jumps excitedly in the air, a common sign that Scootaloo and Apple Bloom know she has something. “Maybe it could be a dragon made of metal! You know, like from that comic Button Mash gave me about these giant metal things that can form into anything! And they go like, ‘rawr, rawr, rawr’ and ‘boom, boom’! ‘I have come to protect them’, ‘no, I will destroy—’!”
Scootaloo shakes her head. “I doubt that.”
“Yeah, I’mma agree with Scoots here,” Apple Bloom says with an uncomfortable look.
“Ooh, ooh! Maybe it’s a dragon in armor!” Sweetie Belle jumps again.
“No!” both fillies shout back at the unicorn.
“It doesn’t even look like a dragon!” Scootaloo points.
“You guys are no fun!” Sweetie Belle puffs out her cheeks in slight annoyance.

The trio walks up to the fallen metal beast in complete silence. The first thing they notice is smoke rising out of a vent on top, including several sparks in a few locations on the bulky and damaged body. An even larger fan with at least seven blades sits on top, catching the fillies’ attention. All of them look broken, and a couple seems to completely lose the blades.

Walking along the side a few meters away, the fillies notice something completely odd. Three small windows run along the entity’s body, though are badly cracked. Close to the front is a larger open window with something jutting out. Stretching virtually almost the length of its midsection is an enclosed cylinder partially buried. It is attached to what appears to be, according to Scootaloo, a stubby but thick piece of metal the shape of a wing if seen from the side.

Scootaloo tilts her head to the side as her eyes scan the weird wing. She wonders if Sweetie’s rant is actually true, after noticing some bolts and nails within the metal skin. Her eyes move upward to have another look at the body, when she suddenly catches some big bold letters closest to the entity’s rear. They are slightly darker than its skin making it almost blend in.
“What are those?” Sweetie Belle asks, she and Apple Bloom looking where Scootaloo is.
“I, uh,” Scootaloo thinks. “It does look like letters.”
“Well?” Apple Bloom asks. “What’s it say?”
“Um…” Scootaloo squints her eyes hard to figure out the letters printed on the metal skin. “Um… M. Uh, A. R, I think. I. Uh, H? No, N. E. And… five? No, no. S.”
“So, that spells…” Apple Bloom figures out in her head.
“’Marines’?” Sweetie Belle answers.
“Pretty much, I think,” Scootaloo replies. She has to admit, the name sounds pretty awesome. But, she remembers ‘marines’ is a reference to the ocean, and Ponyville is nowhere near one. Before she thinks any more, she notices another image just below the giant word. It is heavily scratched and covered in muck, and the pegasus can barely make it out. All she sees is a dark circle with what appears to be a star within it. Scootaloo blinks a few times and shakes her head lightly, the stress leaving her with ease.

“Hey ya’ll,” Apple Bloom calls from but a few meters away from them. “Check this out!” Her voice is filled with excitement as if she just found something extraordinary, in which Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle did. When they jump next to the earth filly a few feet from their left, their faces quickly drop to confusion as they look at a blocky 35 printed between the second and third windows. It too is painted in the same color as the big bold word they read earlier.
“Okay,” Scootaloo scratches her head. “What’s so great about a number?”
“It means, that uh, uh…” Apple Bloom figures out what she is trying to say, but is lost in her own words and mind by the sight of the unconscious beast. “I really dunno. Looks kinda’ nice.”

Scootaloo rolls her eyes, a little annoyed that Apple Bloom has found something completely irrelevant compared to what they just witnessed not five minutes ago. She breaks off from her two friends and begins examining the lengthy cylindrical tube partially buried in the ground. The more she examines, the more she becomes agitated to find something cool, or a clue to figure out what type of creature this metal thing is. Then, just poking out through the dirt pile covered in muck, she spots something. It didn’t take long for Scootaloo to swipe away the dirt until the text fully appears.

“What’d ya’ lookin’ at, Scoots?” Apple Bloom interrupts Scootaloo. Curiously, she and Sweetie Belle step over to the filly pegasus and look down at the exposed text on the metal cylinder. USS ESSEX, it says.
“‘Us’s e’ssex’?” Sweetie pronounces with a baffled look.
“It might be ‘Us’,” Scootaloo takes a guess, putting a lot of emphasis on the S.
Sweetie’s ears droop, and her expression changes to sorrow. “Poor, metal dragon. He can’t even spell.”
“It’s not a dragon, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom says. “They might’ve spelled ‘Us’ wrong.”
“I wanna know what they mean by E’ssex,” Sweetie points to the word.
“I dunno.” Apple Bloom shrugs.

Scootaloo twirls her head off to the open window close to the front of the unconscious beast.
“I wanna check this out,” she points, and races off before Apple Bloom’s and Sweetie Belle’s theories bore her.
“Hey, Scootaloo…” Sweetie Belle tries to call out, but the excited pegasus is already hopping on a dirt pile. She leaps and clings on to a black rod protruding out the open window to get a good look inside. The minute she peeks inside, she screams at the top of her lungs and jumps down to Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom catching up. The two fillies are toppled over from Scootaloo’s weight.
“Woah! Scoots!” Apple Bloom says being held tightly by the trembling pegasus. “What happened?! What’d ya’ see?!”
“I-I… I don’t know! I-it looks c-creepy! I-I think it’s a monster!” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom glance at each other, before turning their heads to the open window where Scootaloo jumped.

Their pupils shrink to the size of dots, and their eyes widen like dinner plates at the sight. They see what appears to be a head with a large green hat and black broken glasses, twisted to an abnormal angle and covered in a dark red liquid in tiny streams, and resting on a device connected to the rod Scootaloo was holding on earlier.
“W-wh-what is that…?” Sweetie Belle stutters before veering her eyes towards the front. She cautiously makes her way around, putting some distance between her and the metal thing in case some monster inside decides to pop out. She wonders if it could be an alien transport, like the one section in the comics she read where the metal machines had to escape in a large flying ship and crashed on another planet.

As Sweetie makes her way to the front, she sees it is covered mostly in cracked windows. She examines it a little longer, imagining it as a face to keep her mind off of the horrific image before. There are three sets of square and rectangle windows going across close to the top, like a pair of sunglasses to which Sweetie imagines. Two more are on either side below, or, according to her, the cheek. Smacked in the middle is the same number she and her friends had saw, 35, except it is partially buried in dirt. Just next to her on the left, Sweetie finds a probe approximately a few meters long, though bent in many ways and covered in dirt and leaves. She turns back to the broken windows in front again, the scary image of whatever she just saw from the open window entering her mind again. She shakes her head violently many times, refusing to take any chance of what is inside until her head starts to spin.

“Sweetie!” Apple Bloom calls. “What’d ya’ see?!” Sweetie hurries back to her friends, forcing to not take a glance at the bloody hairless face hanging out the open window.
“A-are you okay, Scoot?” Sweetie asks with her head down. Scootaloo nods her head while looking down at the ground, still slightly traumatized.
“What was up there?” Apple Bloom asks to Sweetie.
“Um,” Sweetie stumbles on her words again. “I… I didn’t even wanna look inside… let’s put it that way.”
“Alright,” Apple Bloom nods. “Let’s head to my place quickly and tell Granny and Big Mac. Hopefully they know what it is.” The three fillies start running through the apple tree farm back to the house, leaving the unknown metal object alone.





A bright shine appears in midair through the clouds over an ocean. Several sparks fly around in all directions, followed by a revving noise rising in volume, and the light growing. A few seconds later, the light collapses with a powerful ‘bang’, and spews out three F/A-18E Super Hornets.

“What the…?!” Leader Jason 1-1 grunts as he experiences a heavy dose of G-force on his body, nearly pulling out of consciousness as his fighter jet suddenly loses a large portion of its speed. Leader quickly shakes his head to regain all his senses when he hears the sound filling his ears, the sound of engines and panels shutting down.

“This is Jas— One-three! I lo—!” Communications immediately die as the last bit of controls on the small panel go dark.
“Shit! Shit!” Leader curses again, trying to stabilize the aircraft now out of power. Instead, the three fighters drift blindly through the clouds as they descend at a rapid pace. Keeping a firm grip on the joystick, Leader briskly presses several buttons and switches to see if any work.
“Shit! Panel, dead! Engine…!” he heaves, suddenly realizing his oxygen mask has ceased to work.

The fighter’s speed drops, close to the point of stalling. As gravity takes control, Leader can feel his insides lift as his plane begins to drop out of the sky, nose pointed down.
“Agh… shit!” He grits his teeth and grips tightly to the joystick, barely realizing he accidentally pulled it all the way back. The F/A-18 shifts and buckles in all directions, throwing the pilot around in his seat like a ragdoll. A sudden gust of wind throws the fighter spiraling out of control.

Leader can feel his body becoming increasingly heavy as he can barely move an arm in an attempt to restart his aircraft, or activate his emergency oxygen. At this point, he knows it is impossible. The altimeter is spinning out of control, and the death spin does not seem to be slowing down.

The Super Hornet suddenly breaks free from the clouds. Through the rough spinning, Leader can barely make out his surroundings. Land? A city? An ocean, no doubt. Then, the pilot’s mind immediately yanks him back to his situation. He has seconds to spare, and he needs to get out.
“E-ejecting!” With all of his might, the pilot forces himself to resist the G-force, reaches below his seat, and yanks on the emergency ejector. Fear looms over him when he feels the handle is jammed. He yanks two more times, but to no avail.
“F-fuck!” he cries as his face turns bright red, his mind slowly blanking from lack of oxygen. He can hear the wind gusting around his fighter as it tumbles closer to the water.
Leader tugs on the lever with all his might with a scream. “Fuckin’ eject!!”

With a ‘click’ the canopy bursts open, wind rapidly entering the cockpit, and the seat blasts off. As Leader narrowly escapes, the Super Hornet’s left wing slams into the cables of an unknown suspension bridge just below. With a cable snapped, the fighter tumbles into the water while a wing portion lands on the bridge. The pilot witnesses the event as a parachute is deployed from his seat, catching his fall. He rips off his mask, finally inhaling fresh air as he unstraps himself from his seat.

Before he can spare a moment’s rest, or even look at his surroundings, an unexpected ‘whoosh’ catches Leader’s attention. He snaps his neck to the far left, overviewing large cliffs spanning along the coastline with houses of varying of sizes dot around. An F/A-18 comes diving out of the broken clouds like an incoming missile. Leader chokes on his words, his thumping heart stops, as the fighter crashes on the fields tens of meters from the Cliffside, dangerously close to a railroad connected to the suspension bridge. There is a delayed ‘boom’ as fire incinerates almost anything in its path. Out of the corner of his eye, Leader catches a parachute gently floating down. He lets out a sigh of relief as he spots one of his pilots hanging below, safe and sound.

Finally given the chance, Leader looks around at his surroundings. Off to his two o’clock, a giant city lies just across a large harbor from the bridge. There are some skyscrapers that resemble New York City; the only thing that seems out of place is a giant bronze horse head sitting on the tallest building. The harbor is no different compared to New York. A few small boats are scattered around, and the larger ones are docked alongside the piers.

An unexpected faint roar enters Leader’s ears. As the pilot turns to find the source, a second Super Hornet appears from below the clouds just ahead at least a hundred meters away, spinning wildly as it tumbles into the harbor. Leader holds his breath, his heartbeat pounding into his ears as the fighter plummets out of control. At the last second, Leader watches the third pilot eject, leaving the disabled plane crashing into the water, nearly taking away a boat in its wake.

Now, only the sound of the strong wind blows around Leader as he grips tightly to his parachute, drifting past the cable lines of the suspension bridge while helplessly watching his two pilots from a distance in the same position as he is. Never would he have thought he would be stuck in a situation like this. It feels like everything has spun around in a blink of an eye. First, encountering a floating crystal, and now, here he is with two of his pilots close to a New York-esque city.

Leader decides to have another look at the strange city. Not realizing until now, a tall statue that perfectly resembles the Statue of Liberty, except in the form of a horse, sits off to the slight left of the harbor. No doubt this city is a straight rip-off of New York, but it makes it more confusing why. As his eyes continue to scan left to right, it feels as his heart paused when he spots three ships off to his four o’clock. Docked more than two hundred meters from the bridge are two amphibious ships and a destroyer. There is no two ways about it; they are the ships that are reported missing from Sasebo Naval Base.