[ IP ] Battleship Entering the City

It was quiet for that whole morning. Not silent, persay, as living all the way up here gave a constant hum - the breathing sound that an old computer ’ s fan makes, albeit minutely louder - but relaxed. That sound was equivalent to silence for Candius. 
 
 
 Of course for the pilot that went by the name of Angel, life was usually a little louder. He lived in one of the residential areas near the airport, as he usually spent his time down on earth. Angel hadn ’ t exactly been listening to his captain ’ s orders to stop doing so. The old geezer was wise, yes, but he worried all too often for a prodigy to want to listen to him. He had reasons - he didn ’ t want Angel to get hurt, or infected by V.I.S. 
 
 
 Three hundred and twenty three years ago, a mutation strand virus - V.I.S - had begun. It made people violent and desperate for any type of blood whatsoever. It affected the brain ’ s limbic center, to be exact. They simply just didn ’ t care about any luxuries or pleasures anymore. They just spent all their time plotting for wars upon each other. Yes, they still had memories, they still had families. However, in the eyes of the infected, if people weren ’ t with them, they were against them. 
 
 
 Yesterday, he ’ d been to earth to look for old relics and trinkets. He found them. Some old, weird device that operated like an AirScreen, but had a physical form and ran on a rechargeable, but short battery. An antique pocket watch, that now hung around his neck on a gold chain. Something the database he scanned his items in - something his captain had made himself, the tech genius, demanding “ If you ’ re going down there, I want to know what you find. ” - called a ‘ pop can ’ and then listed other names for it ( soda, coke, whatever those meant ) among his more interesting finds. 
 
 
 Boredly, he scrolled through news on his actual AirScreen. Another murder. He didn ’ t overly care, the culprit was caught. A ship crashed in the process of picking up a few supplies. Vague, of course. Politics. V.I.S remedy in process - interesting, probably a lie. Just lame, shitty stuff that was only mildly interesting. 
 
 
 He definitely would have stayed down there for far longer, but he felt differently, oddly watched. That feeling made him get back onto his jet the second it washed over him. He hated feeling watched, and it had happened a couple times before down there. You didn ’ t want to be caught with someone who had V.I.S, because chances were, with the bloodborne virus, you ’ d catch it quick. The reason the captain hated going down to earth was because he ’ d watched his sister had the blood of one of them dripped into her mouth, many years ago. 
 
 
 They were savages. 
 
 
 His window and main source of light was obscured. ( He lived underneath the right air deck. The place costed him a fortune, but he made enough anyway. ) In a quiet, slow-motion horror, he turned his head to the side, watching as the thing ghosted past him. 
 
 
 It was giant. It took up just pure *space*. The thing was greyish-blue in colour. The thing was, it was one of the Candius battleships. Instead, however, of the usually clean and polished look, it seemed gritty, covered in grime. The vector of Candius ’ airforce was slathered over with blood. Something had been scratched in over it, he realised, as it slid past where he was sitting. 
 
 
 “ Shit. ” He pulled up his Captain ’ s information on the AirScreen and holo called him. After a couple of rings, Riley came into view. He was clearly wearing pajamas. If it ’ d been any other situation, Angel would have laughed. But he couldn ’ t summon any emotion rather than fear for himself and Candius. 
 
 
 “ Angel, what the fuck? It ’ s five in the morning, today ’ s one of my vacation days. What do you want? ” 
 
 
 He didn ’ t reply as he typed a few settings into his holo, so his apartment was visible. 
 
 
 Carved into the dried blood was something that he ’ d never thought he ’ d see - he ’ d never thought that it would happen. He ’ d never expected those three letters to be so terrifying to him personally. It was never something he ’ d have to worry about, but it was happening. Riley ’ s face suddenly matched his own. 
 
 
 It had been a quiet morning.
