((Hello there. If you didn't know already I'm pretty new around here, and have really been captivated by the fanfiction. This is my first attempt at a "story." So please don't expect "Eric Nylund" writing. I am trying something new, as I have always just stayed in the shadows, reading, and observing. So thank you for taking the time to read this. Commencons! Let's begin!)) Tale of Breeze "He's been out for quite some time now. We need to let him rest." " I just don't understand. Why would he do this? To put himself up against an entire fleet! It's ludicrous!" "It's what he was trained to do. Being determined to die in battle is better than hoping to survive." ______________________________________________________________________________________________ 1. His eyes fluttered, viciously under his eyelids until they swung open, like curtains on a window. It was nighttime. He remembered that he had been dreaming, but he didn't know what about. Sitting up on the comfortable, silk bed, he looked around this new environment. Next to the bed was a table, with an old-fashioned lamp, cluttered with paper. He switched the lamp on, barely illuminating the room. Besides an old, wooden rocking chair in the corner, a window with the curtains drawn, and a door on the far side of the "apartment," the room was absolutely bare. He turned his attention to the papers on the table and noticed that black ink swam across them in elegant, cursive writing. He debated whether or not he should read them. but curiosity got the best of him and he grabbed one. It was a letter. It read: Greetings brother, If you are reading this then the medic made his promise to deliver it, as I offered him my sidearm. I wrote this letter to inform you of the incidents that have occurred and it is my understanding that Dr. Wilson visited you and told you about the invasion. I can't imagine what must be going through your head. It feels like yesterday I was running through mom's backyard smiling and waving, playing with my "toys." The toys have changed now. Guns are my new toys. I have so much blood on my hands now. At first it felt wrong to kill, but when I saw those monsters murder my friends, bashing their skulls in felt so...... right. Please don't....... The rest of the letter was stained with what appeared to be red wine. Wine? He didn't recognized the place, which is the thing that concerned him the most. Though when he stood up to peer out of the window, it felt like deja vu. He could see nothing in the pitch black night, not even the silhouette of a tree. He tried to recall what had happened the day before, that is if he was only asleep for a day. But he couldn't remember "anything." He then heard a loud thud, coming from somewhere in the "building." He backed away from the window, placing the letter neatly on the table. He tiptoed over to the door wall, making his way towards it. Pressing his ear against the door, he listened for the sound again. This time the clamor was much louder and appeared to be right outside of the door. Just as he was beginning to creep away from the door, it burst open and flung across the room into the opposite wall. A figure emerged through the entrance, ducking, as he was standing about 8 ft.6 in tall. Its skin was a dark gray, coated with medium brown fur. Before he fully processed this strange creature, it turned its head, ever so slowly that time, itself, seemed to slow down. He was sure the "ape" could hear his heart pounding. He stood motionless, as two, menacing eyes stared through his soul.