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Miles Way sat at his standard-issue USAFA desk, with a study sheet in front of his face, as usual. One walking past his room could be forgiven for assuming that he was studying. In fact, he was not. Miles was actually doing two things simultaneously: staring at the aircraft he'd just sketched, searching its sleek fuselage for any imperfections, and more importantly, awaiting that all-important bugle call. Any second now...
And suddenly, there it was- the call piped over the loudspeakers that meant only one thing: academic call to quarters. Freedom. Miles closed his door and sunk into his chair, bringing up his laptop and heading for the Gang of Five forums. He had a new picture he wanted to submit for his fanart page, as well as a new chapter for his latest fanfiction. He took a look at his drawing: an Amargasaurus. It wasn't simply any Amargasaurus, however. This one was orange, and sported a black stripe and spines. It was none other than Fyn, a character he'd created long ago, and continued developing. He'd enjoy submitting this latest work. As he hit "enter," to submit his search request (GoF), however, he was greeted by a strange sight. His computer screen was displaying an image of a desert.
"What the heck?" he muttered to himself. He had to admit- the picture was pretty cool, certainly not like any desert he'd ever seen. It almost looked... prehistoric. He leaned in closer, to get a better look.
And that was when Miles Way's small part in the puzzle that was slowly taking shape came into play.
There was a loud roaring noise, and suddenly everything around him besides the image on the computer turned into rushing streaks of blue.
"Air Force pride," he thought, trying to ignore the thought that he was scared out of his mind. The screen image was changing, too. It was growing bigger, filling his field of vision, and night appeared to be falling. Now it was tilting upwards, and to Miles, it seemed he was now falling towards the hard ground. None of this could be real. It had to be some sick upperclassman's trick, but that ground looked very real, and it didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
Miles prepared himself for impact, executing the position for a parachute landing fall, getting ready to tuck and roll upon contact. Given a few extra seconds, he might have made it. Unfortunately, the ground had other plans. Miles hit it with a sickening thud and his world went dark...