The battlefield raged with an intensity no one could quite describe. It was louder than any mission the Shadow Company PMC had been on, but that was because this wasn't a mission. This was war. One that had been going on for days.

Gunfire and screams for medics echoed over the mountains and beyond. The sky, smokey with the evidence of war, smelt of blood, dirt, and pained souls. On the east side of this all commanded Phillip Graves; founder of Shadow Company. His soldiers, loyal and trusting, fought hard to keep their lives—but also to keep the enemy back far that they couldn't touch them.

It was hard to tell who was on top until the enemy held up a piece of white cloth on a stick large enough for most of Shadow Company to see. The cloth, though covered in dirt and blood-stained, was comprehensible enough that Graves accepted the surrender. After the enemy fell back, Shadow Company took a moment to catch their witts and their breath.

While they breathlessly conversated and recovered, a few of Graves' men saw the distant, unmistakable form of a jet. It wasn't meant to be stealthy, it was meant to be one last retaliation. One of the witnesses reported this sighting to the commander, but their breathlessness had impacted the comprehensibility of their statement, making it take a few tries to get out their warning.

By then, the jet was closer. Close enough to open fire on Shadow Company. Despite this, someone had already shot the jet down—early enough that there weren't any casualties, only a few injuries that could be healed within a few weeks. The bullet hit the jet right on its fuel tank, igniting the rest of the vehicle as it spiraled toward the earth in a ball of flames.

The pilot died in the blaze after hitting his head and going unconscious, but someone reported seeing a parachuter flee the jet a little bit after the it went into flames.

"Is that even allowed? I mean—I mean, they surrendered!" A man said to himself in disbelief, rubbing his sore head that had been hit with the blunt end of a rifle. The soldier next to him shook his head, but Graves was thinking. The enemy's base was thousands of miles away, which meant the parachuter didn't have a choice but to find a safe place and hope that someone came and brought him back. But that also meant that the parachuter could be hostile, sneak into Shadow Company's current base, and attempt to kill them.

Graves furrowed his eyebrows. "We gotta find him, Shadows. No one said he ain't still hostile. Besides, it's easier to kill one man than to relocate two thousand," He shouted so that everyone could hear him, "This war ain't over yet! Let's go!"

"Yep, yep!" His soldiers all yelled back, spreading out in all directions to find this pilot and end this seven day war once and for all.