Anoxia

It all happened, on January 7, 1948. On a day that could have been like any other day. Running a routine mission aboard the jet fighter B-51. When a tremendous orb of silver fell from the clouds and burned a hole straight through his aircraft, then it swinged out of the way harder than you could've ever known. He’d seen it, heard of it, but it was something he'd never understood

Zoom, flash, then memories of flame. Not with much pain

As he climbs, leaves off the ground, now walking. And looking to race

It's tremendous!
It’s fantastic!
It's colossal!
It's all my fault!

"End of quiet groove."