My hunter, one who led many on to the path of the blade, fought bravely against several fallen ships. After a grueling battle, victory was on his tongue, but he knew his ship was in bad shape. He got from the pilots seat and stared out the window reflecting on how he and many others knew the end will come sooner or later. He smiled realizing that he saw hell and spat in its mouth. As the alarms and warning blared into his ears, he ignored it only seeing the world. His ship exploded and debris fell ironically to Old Russia. His ghost searched for a corpse for weeks.....