The Demon soars through dark skies — Ace Combat

"I was just a child when the stars fell from the skies. But I remember how they built a cannon to destroy them. And in turn how that cannon brought war upon us. War was an abstract idea, nothing more than a show on TV. As a child, I only saw it as something that happened in some far away land... Until that final day of summer... One day while on my way to school, I looked up in the skies. A sound like distant thunder. In the blue skies far above me, contrails drew dizzying circles around in a crazy waltz. A battle in the beautiful skies far away... I could not tear my gaze away from them. A deafening roar. And then sharp silhouettes appeared, as if to graze the hills, and streaked past me. The fighters played the cat or the mouse in turn as they climbed swiftly into the sky. One fleeing plane fell out of the skies, spiraling and spewing orange flames to crash into the cape. The same cape where my family lived. Now they only live in my memories of days past. The victor circled around to confirm the kill. And on his craft, there was a large number 13 emblazoned in yellow. I will never forget this."

"A nation is comprised of the individuals who live in its borders. It can only become a nation when it is supported by those individuals. But mercenaries who cross lines and allegiance for money have no country to protect. They only fight for their own power and fame. But if that was the case, then why did I lose to him? Maybe not having a burden of a nation allows you to fly faster."

"Good morning, troops. I have an important announcement. In one hour, each one of you will take part in the most important mission in our history. A mission that will result in the defeat of the vile enemy who has brought chaos to our continent. Although we are from different nations and of different races, we have fought, suffered, and died together. Fighting for what we believe in. Fighting for freedom! Today, we shall gather for the final battle to liberate our beautiful continent and restore freedom to our people, our friends and our families. Our victory will herald the beginning of a new era of prosperity for the Usean continent. Victory will be ours! We shall return peace to our people. We will win back our freedom, and our future. The skies belong to everyone! Now, let us take back our "Shattered Skies"!"

"The once familiar scent of burning jet fuel has long since faded away. What was once Yellow Squadrons runway is now just a local highway again. I write this letter to you now... I know it must have brought him unexpected joy to have an opponent like you, at the end of that meaningless war. At least thats what I want to believe. Only you... the pilot who shot him down, can confirm this. And so I write to you..."

"15 years ago, there was a war. Well... wars broken out here plenty of times before. Theyve tried to invade the south lands through the northern valley time and time again. Luck was never on their side, though, and their victories didnt last long. They didnt realize that times had changed. Facing one defeat after another, losing territory and watching their nation dwindle, they built up their industrial strength to unprecedented heights and used it to wage one final battle against the world. That was 15 years ago... They fought ferociously, but were utterly defeated. The Belkans then committed the unthinkable—they used nuclear weapons on their own soil. Seeing this tragedy unfold before their own eyes, the victorious countries vowed to throw down their weapons. The world was once again at peace. And thanks to them, it seemed it would last forever. On a distant island, far away from civilization, the protectors of the peace take to the skies."

"All held the finite and infinite as unrelated. None could foresee that the history of the two would become one."

"Dave Foley: I once shot a man just to watch him die, then I got distracted and missed it. Oh my friends tried to describe it to me, but it just isnt the same."

"I did not go to join Kurtz there and then. I did not. I remained to dream the nightmare out to the end, and to show my loyalty to Kurtz once more. Destiny. My destiny! Droll thing life is — that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself — that comes too late — a crop of unextinguishable regrets. I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable grayness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamor, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid skepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary. If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then life is a greater riddle than some of us think it to be. I was within a hairs-breadth of the last opportunity for pronouncement, and I found with humiliation that probably I would have nothing to say. This is the reason why I affirm that Kurtz was a remarkable man. He had something to say. He said it. Since I had peeped over the edge myself, I understand better the meaning of his stare, that could not see the flame of the candle, but was wide enough to embrace the whole universe, piercing enough to penetrate all the hearts that beat in the darkness. He had summed up — he had judged. The horror! He was a remarkable man. After all, this was the expression of some sort of belief; it had candor, it had conviction, it had a vibrating note of revolt in its whisper, it had the appalling face of a glimpsed truth — the strange commingling of desire and hate."

"I spoke up about the importance of sex and have been paying the price ever since. I was transphobic, I was a cunt, a bitch, a TERF, I deserved cancelling, punching and death."

"Oh Rama, here I go again! Listen to you, sounding like Death Vader. You people need cigarettes as much as this country needs another C-average President. Plus you look like a human Pez dispenser! Here are your cigarettes, and here is some gum so you can blow bubbles for that WEIRD-ASS HOLE YOU HAVE IN YOUR NECK. And here are some batteries, for your creeping-me-out machine. Now get the park out of my store! I hope I am reincarnated as a turtleneck... I like to tank you for getting that joke!"

"I also know that the shock of Annabels death consolidated the frustration of that nightmare summer, made of it a permanent obstacle to any further romance throughout the cold years of my youth. The spiritual and the physical had been blended in us with a perfection that must remain incomprehensible to the matter-of-fact, crude, standard-brained youngsters of today. Long after her death I felt her thoughts floating through mine. Long before we met we had had the same dreams. We compared notes. We found strange affinities. The same June of the same year (1919) a stray canary had fluttered into her house and mine, in two widely separated countries. Oh, Lolita, had you loved me thus!"

"The groans of the dying and the blanched set faces of the dead ... were enough to drive away all unwholesome feelings of exultation, and to remind one of the grim reality that war is. And even though these were the faces and the sufferings of our enemy, one had ... a deeper sense of the common humanity which knows no racial distinctions."