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For two hours, Leo forgot he was in his bedroom. He felt the weight of the air, the tension in the controls, and the ghost of the man who had lived this for real.
Leo loaded the plane into his simulator. The FM-2 appeared on the virtual tarmac of a rainy Pacific island. It wasn't the pristine, shiny silver of most mods; this one was weathered. The paint was chipped near the cockpit, and there were faint tally marks—victory kills—etched into the fuselage.
The description was sparse: "FM-2 Wildcat. Custom liveries. Authentic engine audio."