Phil Smith slid into the pilot seat beside Icarus, latching his safety belt and running his hands over several controls, aiding in the plane's new bombardment.

Beside him in the cockpit, Icarus Sidewinder's mind was reeling.

Flying enemies, he mused to himself. Damn, what I wouldn't give for a--

Suddenly, the pilot's train of thought screeched to a halt. Slowly, he held his hands up in front of his widened eyes.

'I'd give my right arm for a gun,' he thought. Even as the thought ran through his head, his right arm began to morph and change before his eyes. The pain was still present and the pilot gritted his teeth, grunting slightly as the change neared completion.

"Well, I could open the door and throw you at them," Grimm mused from somewhere behind him.

Then, the pilot got a wild idea. An insane idea. But, then, he thought to himself, everything about this world is insane already... so really, this is just going with the flow...

He reached his left hand down, throwing off his seatbelt. As he did so, the Cessna rocked slightly, bombarded by the Raptor's fire. He reached his right arm out, wrapping it around the back of Phil's chair to keep from falling over.

The telekinetic looked up at Sidewinder warily. "What are you doing, you maniac?"

Icarus grunted, nostrils flaring, as he willed his left arm to form into something resembling a minature Howitzer. "Just keep us on course, Phil," he said, looking over at the man. "We can't outrun them in this crate. I'm gonna step outside for a bit."

He walked out of the cockpit and over to the plane doors, changing his first cannon into a hand just long enough to open the door before changing it back again.

"Y-you're insane, Sidewinder!" Phil called back, over the hissing of the air.

Icarus looked back, a gleam in his eye. A cocky smirk, the one he'd been known - and hated - for, spread across his face. "Like the rest of us aren't!" he almost laughed.

And, with that, he threw himself from the plane, hurtling himself toward the ground below.

"Icarus!" Lykopis yelled, rushing for the door. "No!"

"Don't worry about it, Your Highness!" Grimm hollered, attempting to be heard over the roaring winds. "He can fly... right?"

"No, you imbecile!" she turned to him. "He can't fly with this new technology! He's... he's not able!"

"Two hundred says he makes it," Grimm said with a smile.

Lykopis glared at him coldly, turning toward the cockpit to see if she could gain a fresh perspective on their situation from there.

"Betcha Ozzy would've taken that action," the mammoth biker grunted, leaning against the inside of the plane.

_________________________________________


"OH, SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

Icarus Sidewinder was in a freefall. He had, however, managed to pull some of the Raptors away from the plane, as a number of them followed him downward.

Rolling his body upward slightly, he took out quite a few with the guns protruding from his arms... but, sadly, it was like shooting a Hydra - everytime one fell, two more seemed to take his place.

Okay, Icarus thought, clamping his eyes shut, still firing wildly in as many directions as he could. Let's see if we can get this to work... Rockets: deploy!

Icarus opened his eyes. The ground was coming toward him with a building velocity.

"Shit!" he said aloud. Okay, think. Wings!

Nothing.

Jets!

Nada.

Uh... Rockets! No, wait, I did that one already!

The ground seemed to loom before him now, filling the pilot's field of vision. Straightening himself into a clean dive, he gained even more velocity, as though to drive himself straight into the ground, feet first.

"C'mon, you motherfucking techno-bitch!" the pilot screamed at himself at the top of his lungs. "JUST FLY ALREADY!"

Had the pilot not been screaming uncontrollably from the adrenaline and the pain, he might have noticed that something was happening. Behind his back, what sounded like pistons began whirrings and firing. The hoarde of rapidly-approaching Raptors began to slow as they noticed what appeared to be two large cylinders sliding out of the falling man's shoulder-blades. From what looked like a collar around his neck, metal plating began sliding up above his neck and then down in front of his face, forming a helmut of sorts.

Then, as if by sheer force of will alone, flames began to streak from out of the bottom of the young pilot's cylinders, helping him to gain velocity at an alarming rate.

Noticing the flying leap of speed, Icarus opened his eyes to see himself flying right into a cluster of Raptors. Raising his guns, both defiantly and victoriously, above his head, he began firing point blank through his flying attackers.

Yelling with pure exhiliration, he rocketed upward in the sky, spreading his arms wide. The grin on his face, though masked by his helmut, was the biggest smile Icarus had ever displayed.

He had gotten the sky back.

Though attacked on all sides, finally, he was home.

A bullet ricocheted off the side of his helmut, bringing him back to reality.

"Alright, you wannabe sons of bitches," Icarus said as the Raptors began closing in, "you're in my house now!"