Hiroyoshi Sakai's Story

As the sun barely crept above the horizon over the City of Narita, a single Black Tengu was being prepped in one of her many military bases.

The Pilot went over his checklist, and then offered a thumbs up. He then checked the GPS, at supersonic high altitude flight he should reach Wing City within the hour, enough time for Umibozu Ground spotters to deliver the coordinates for a precision strike.

The Pilot swallowed, before he went over final checks, and then engaged the throttle.

Once he kicked the throttle, the Black Tengu began to accelerate, and then gain altitude. Once it was away, it banked sharply westward, and began to climb.

"Watashitachiha, hanarete yotei jikoku o 1-jikanda." Hiro reported, before he pushed the throttle some more.

The Black Tengu was an angular fighter, clad in a black, radar absorbing material with small strategically placed mirrors to make the craft nearly impossible to detect. Along with it's hypersonic speeds, it would appear to be little more than an intermittent anomaly.

As Ereb and his security team made their speech, there would be nothing out of the ordinary transpiring. That was until a sleek, black form that was hard to discern darted over the city.

It was completely silent.


That was at least for a few seconds until a deafening boom followed, and it's engines could be heard. The craft was long gone before anyone could realize exactly what was going on.

Jona Navette heard the melody in the night. Not with his ears, and not really with his heart. It was with something else. Something deeper, and darker. Whatever it was it called to Jona and compelled him to rise from where he slept.

The child's room was on the ground floor of their little house. He had a glorious window with a seat in it. Perfect for daydreaming- and there was a small garden out front. They had a high fence around the property which was a comfort. Jona had spent many days in this exact spot. He had made forts from cushions and defended his room from giant worms and evil bees.

Jona found himself unlatching the window and climbing into the flowerbeds. He was in his footsie pajamas and payed little to no heed the way the bottoms grew dark with fresh soil. The child trod across the yard and pulled the string to unlatch the gate. He found himself paying no care to the loud creak of the gate, but hasting onwards.

Jona himself wondered where his legs were taking him. Where had he come from again? He remembered the flowers. They had been quite pretty.