Inspired by videos by Haechi.

Dear Mother,

How are things in Heraklion? I have not heard from you, grandfather, or sister for a long time. Perhaps the mail train has been attacked by a Pummeler, and your letter was destroyed in the fire. Such is too common, I fear.

I worry for you and the family at home. I sense you have little money to afford stationery, ever since the Navy commandeered our fishing boat. Where it is now is up to fate herself. Perhaps Poseidon has already claimed it; you know how much that thing leaked. Anyways, it would be hard to go fishing anymore. The Pilotmario Navy rules Poseidon's domain, their submarines claiming many of our ships.

Jason is doing well in the Army. He tells me of pesky insurgents, but speaks little else about them. He's found a date in Rome, and tells me how great of a woman she is. I tell him to send you letters too, but you know how he is.

I suggest you do not go to Delphi; the Pilotmarians are sending their bombers there. We try our best, and claim a great many of them even though the Pummelers swarm us like flies to rotten fish.

But these bombers are like Hydra itself; you can shoot down one, but two take its place. Given our losses, it seems that we will run out of pilots and fighters to send. Our officers say we will win, but I only see defeat. I cannot judge them though, for they speak of a secret weapon which to defeat them. It seems that Uranus' realm may fall to the Pilotmarians soon. All I know is the war will be over soon.

When this war ends, I would love to take you up in my airplane. It is a true beauty, indeed. But it is just as functional as beautiful. The Athena handles very well, and I think you will certainly enjoy a flight. It always takes my breath away to dance in the clouds or watch the Earth grow smaller and smaller as the plane climbs.

Alas, that is the sound of the sirens. More Pilotmarian bombers are flying in, and I must hurry to my airplane. Just know that I love you very much.

Love,
Cyril Ioannau