This story is told in Wolf's POV. For the sake of simplicity, let's just pretend that Assault never happened, and make their conflict a bit more extreme. This isn't Yaoi unless you make it so, because this sure isn't a fluffy Wolf x Fox fic. Please review.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Star Fox.
I lie here, upon this bed of debris, in a room of smoke with walls of fire. Outside, thunder roars, and rain splashes upon the wasted ground, merging into impure pools of crimson and brown. In my mouth, I can taste the warm, sweet bitter taste I know only too well. I guess this is it... After all these times, all these years... I can't help but let out a bitter laugh.
Our story was written in permanent crimson ink. Ink so permanent that no amount of erasing would even slightly lighten. No matter how much white-out would be used to blot out some of it, it still wouldn't be gone. It could be covered all anyone wanted, but what good would covering do if it would still be there? Even if you or I would write something else on top, a new story, a different story, a story written in another color, another light, sooner or later, the ever-constant wear of time would fade away these lies and uncover the truth once more, revealing the ugly red scars of our past. No. This ink, this story, shall forever remain, even after the last word is written, the last blank page filled. The only way to make this ink dissapear would be to destroy the book along with it. And it seems that today, our story really has come to an end...
Before I met you, I knew not defeat. It was not an option. Yet once you came in, you brought me its bitter taste. You wounded my pride, you broke my soul. And at that moment, I hated you. Ever after, no matter where or when we were, we would fight each other as long as we met- on the ground, in the skies, under stars, over moons... But the more I tried to defeat you again, win back my pride, my broken soul, the more I was defeated, the more I hated you, and the more I tried to defeat you again in vain. And it seems that now, after pushing our bond of hatred beyond the boundaries of the universe, pushing it until only one of us could be left standing, you're truly the victorious one and I the vanquished. You're now the one who gets to fill the last blank page, write out the last line of our red-written tale. This time, you're going to start a new story, a story of hope and happiness... Without me. That is because our tale, our tale of ice clashing with fire, has at last come to an end. As I go, I'm taking the book with me, as it shall burn with me in the very fires of Hell... But this isn't really the end yet, for the ashes which will remain shall still torment you for the rest of eternity. And when the time comes again, if it ever will, this story shall rewrite itself once again on another page, in another book.
Now, the air around me grows thinner, the room become smaller, yet this bed upon which I lay becomes confusingly bigger... And my concsiousness starts to fade.
But I do have one last regret. I do not beg for mercy, nor do I wish for salvation from these fires of your soul which are consuming my very own. I do not want forgivence, nor do I wish to avenge my dying soul and drag you down as well. No. What I want, what I truly want, is something impossible. Something which defies this red ink which locks our souls in eternal war.
The only you I ever see is your face behind the forbidding glass, that face wrought with determination as you jam controls furiously parellel to the beating of your heart as well as my own. No matter where we are, even if we aren't in our hi-tech aircrafts designed solely for victory and survival, even if I'm standing right in front of you, it's still there. Unseen, yet all the more impenetrable. And no matter when it is, as long as our gaze meets, it is hostile, reminding us evermore of the already unforgettable tale of our existence. That is because the only you I know is my one greatest rival, my one greatest enemy...
Sometimes, they say that victory is bitter. Then what about defeat? I can only think that it's a thousand times worse. Not because you defeated me though; that I have no regret. Perhaps, perhaps I chose it to be this way, for no matter the outcome, there would be no victory. No great loss comes without some small gain, yet no victory was ever made without sacrifice. And here, this is a place where there is no victory; no victory greater than the loss that comes with it.
Even from the beginning, there would have been no other way. Ice and fire were never meant to mix. Once the two cross, all paths thus created lead to dead ends. And the pride standing between us sealed our souls together upon this path, ensuring no escape from what Fate had created. Yet still, my soul yearns for this simple wish, a dream as whispy and intangible as stardust blowing in the wind.
And now, all fades to black as I close my single eye for the last time, that one eye which had experienced more in a lifetime than two thousand perhaps ever will- in meeting yours. The walls of fire tumble down, setting everything afire- the remnants of my ship, and all that remains of me and our red-written story. Everything is black. Deep, dark, black, so dark that the darkness itself seems to shine. And I start falling into this darkness, this endless black void, into the fiery, frozen, empty wasteland of the underworld. My heart becomes part of the fires of this hell, that raging fire fueled by raging hate. And one last, little thought reaches my mind as it becomes consumed by my own burning heart.
I wish I'd known you better...