Eagle Down
When we first found it, we didn’t believe our luck. A warbird from the old world, buried under moss and rot in the bones of a forgotten forest. We called it Eagle. It was our ghost weapon, our silent flank. It was meant to be our statement. Our scream across the silence. Like the old cavalry breaking from the trees, like thunder on the edge of retreat. But when the Eagle rose, in an instant, they swatted it from the sky like it was paper, like it was memory.
- Year2749