Ace Combat: The Southern Cross

Prologue - The First Casualty of War

Alendal, Democratic Republic of Leasath, South Osea

October 1st, 2020

0940hrs

Albert Genette took a quick sip from his glass of water, frowning at the sight of the city below him. He should have been expecting this ever since he set foot on Leasath's soil, but what he had seen since the journey from the airport still left him uncomfortable nonetheless.

Even though Alendal is Leasath's capital city, there's a frightening amount of slums and shantytowns that stretched as far as eyes can see – practically covering the surrounding hillsides on the city outskirts, and even then they're not enough to cater to the city's impoverished populace. He had seen homeless people taking up refuge under bridges or at bus stops, delinquents harassing outsiders before snatching their belongings, and even kids dumpster-diving just to find scraps of food. If this is how things are happening in the country's most developed city, then Genette shuddered to think about how the rest of Leasath would be like.

And yet, here he was, standing on the top floor of a building over sixty-floors high in the middle of the city – one of the few skyscrapers in the heart of Alendal reserved exclusively for the Leasathian elites. The contrast between Diego Gaspar Navarro's private penthouse and the broken city outside didn't leave much to the imagination of the Osean journalist. The self-proclaimed 'Supreme Leader' of Leasath apparently didn't seem to care as much about the state of his country – even though it had just been through a violent civil war – as the various luxury furniture and decorations in his room. Genette has seen the likes of him before. It was obvious that Navarro is an ineffective leader at best and a corrupt dictator at worst, and Genette has a good reason to believe that he's the latter.

But now is not the time to dwell on it. Not in this place. Not right in the tiger's den.

He sighed, silently pitying the poor Leasathians down below, before pacing away from the windows towards the reception area in the middle of the room and made himself comfortable on one of the fancy couches – which was surprisingly very pleasant to sit on. At least the man has a fine taste in his furniture choice.

He put the glass down on the desk and booted up the laptop in front of him – which was put on standby earlier – and checked today's news on the GAZE website. He shook his head slightly while chuckled lightly to himself: even though there are so many news websites out there he could pick, he had already made it a habit of always checking the GAZE website ever since writing a story for them a few months ago.

Apparently Princess Rosa Cossette D'Elise's Usea Restoration Project ran into multiple roadblocks and isn't gaining as much international support as she had hoped. Considering Erusea's role in the Lighthouse War, Genette isn't surprised why the other nations would think twice about trusting them, the Princess's heartfelt unity speech at the ISEV notwithstanding. Erusea had started two major wars, after all. The whole nation and its people probably gained as much infamy as the Belkans by now.

One name in the news article caught Genette's eyes: Andre Olivieri, the eccentric CEO of Olivieri Life Insurance, was mentioned to have been trying to get into contact with the young princess to talk about the 'private war insurance' that he claimed could help Erusea making a faster recovery from the damages it suffered during the war. With most of the world's nations being somewhat apathetic to Erusea's plights and won't lend them the support they so needed, Genette figured it won't take much for Olivieri to convince the desperate young leader of Erusea to sign the offer. Something about Olivieri rubbed him in a very wrong way, though, and Genette found himself hoping that Princess Cossette won't sign that deal no matter what Olivieri might have offered to her.