Flying 300 feet off the ground and pushing 6,000 Mph, you begin to think differently about things such as, I think the paint is peeling, of course this is preceded by the thought that your body is going to be crushed and your head will explode. Hopefully the test flight won't end in ruin, although the hardest part will be to get past the air bases with out to much ruckus.

I heard a series of communications burst over the radio I managed to program to seek out the strongest signal. Most of the time it's something along the lines of, "What the he—" "Please identi—" or the most popular of the day "SLOW DOWN YOU G—" I often wonder what the rest of their sentences are. I'm pretty sure that the bases are trying to track down the speed demon that I'm sitting in, but it's about to disappear because my landing spot is coming up.

I see a few houses and some suburban sprawl flick by and anticipate the entrance to my 'secret lair' which isn't really much of a secret considering the amount of people there… I slow down my vehicle to a little less then 1,500 and watch for the entrance. Spotting a giant hole in the ground, I dive for it and hope that I made it big enough. It is, but only by a few inches, mental note: MAKE ENTRANCE BIGGER!!

I slow down my aircraft massively, slamming from 1,500 to 200 mph and feeling like I've just ripped out every one of my nerves. The big hole leads to a long tunnel, but it's long only if you're walking. I use the length of the tunnel to slow down more slowly finally coming to a stop at a weird looking dock where a few people are waiting expectantly with clipboards. I sidled my craft into one of the docks and waited for it to clamp on.

"Lock Down procedure under way" I felt my craft jolt as three clamps hooked on and a platform rise to hold it. "Lock Down commenced, welcome back pilot." The computerized voice greeted me. I cut the engines and got out of my personal vehicle, and, apparently, torture device. I walked up the docks, which held only my craft. I looked back at it, the best way to describe it was it looked like four obelisks arranged in a square, connected at the bottom by a giant cylinder, and then the entire thing had been turned sideways. Each obelisk was the same distance from the two next to it, which is to say about 4 feet. The cylinder was about 5 feet tall and maybe 20 feet in diameter. It was painted red and black, and in bright white letters was the name of my lovely demonic aircraft, The Torment.