The Sepharis Bird
A Week and Six Days Later – The War Marches On
Nearly two weeks had passed since the success of Operation Northern Front.
Since then, the Blancheur had been steadily advancing, cutting through the vast expanse of the open ocean, its course set toward the heart of the war.
Its next destination?
The Teyvat Orbital Elevator.
A monument to progress—once meant to symbolize unity and cooperation between nations.
Now—
It was under Snezhnayan control.
It stood at the very epicenter of the conflict, a towering spire piercing the heavens, stretching beyond the clouds, casting its long shadow over the war-torn landscape below.
Even from hundreds of kilometers away, it remained visible—a distant beacon breaking through the endless sky.
But today—
It was not a symbol of peace.
It was a symbol of war.
And soon—
It would become the deadliest battlefield in Teyvat.
Aboard The Blancheur – The Calm Before The Storm
The carrier's viewing deck offered an unobstructed view of the horizon.
The wind carried the briny scent of the sea, whipping against the flight suits of Furina and Lyney as they stood near the railing.
Above them, the morning sky stretched endlessly—a vast, deep blue expanse. The sun was still low, its golden light casting long shadows across the deck.
Far beyond that horizon—
The next battle awaited.
Nocturne Squadron had already been deployed ahead of them, tasked with securing air superiority over the Morozvyat Plains.
Their mission?
To clear the skies. To pave the way for Fontaine's full-scale counteroffensive.
Now, it was Tidal Squadron's turn.
All that remained—
Was the call to sortie.
Lyney leaned against the railing, arms crossed, his gaze shifting between Furina and the distant horizon.
She was unusually silent.
Her silver-blue hair fluttered in the wind, streaks of oceanic blue catching the light as she stared into the distance.
The faint silhouette of the Orbital Elevator stood against the haze, an unshakable presence on the battlefield to come.
To most—
She was just a young pilot, fresh from the Academy.
But in the sky—
She was something else entirely.
An Ace.
A pilot who, in just two combat sorties, had racked up over twenty aerial kills.
It was unbelievable.
And yet—
Lyney had seen it with his own eyes.
The maneuvers she had pulled—
They shouldn't have been possible.
A 90-degree pitch-up Pugachev.
A 360-degree Pugachev.
A 270-degree Pugachev.
A Cobra maneuver.
These weren't Fontainian maneuvers.
Hell, they weren't Liyuan, Inazuman, or Mondstadt maneuvers either.
They were Snezhnayan.
Designed exclusively for high-thrust, vector-controlled fighters—the Su-30s, Su-35s, and Su-57s of the world.
And yet—
She executed them flawlessly in a Dassault Rafale M.
How?
His mind drifted back to an earlier moment—
Right before launching off Catapult One during Operation Northern Front.
He had glanced at Furina's Rafale, watching as she performed pre-flight control checks.
And that's when he noticed it.
The way her flight surfaces moved.
The elevons.
The front canards.
The rudders.
They reacted almost instantly to her sidestick input.
It was unnatural.
Like her Rafale wasn't just responding—
It was anticipating.
"The way those flight surfaces moved… like they were directly wired into her reflexes."
Furina let out a soft sigh, brushing her hair back as she continued gazing at the sky.
Then—
She spoke, her voice calm, distant.
"You know, Lyney… it's moments like these that put me at ease."
Lyney turned to her, brow raised.
"Really?"
She nodded.
"Mhm. When I was a teenager, I used to sketch horizons. It just… I don't know… cleared my mind of everything."
Lyney's eyebrow arched slightly.
"Huh?"
Furina chuckled, her voice softer than usual.
"The skies are the limit. Anything can happen in those deep blue skies above.
Not everyone can live forever… not even me."
Then—
A pause.
Her gaze didn't shift.
Her voice remained steady.
"One day… I won't be here. I won't be there to save you."
Lyney's expression hardened.
"Furina…"
Finally—
She turned to face him.
A small smile on her lips.
"But I don't plan on dying today. Or ever."
Her voice was stronger now.
"We will fight. We will end this war as a squadron."
Lyney studied her for a moment.
Then—
He smirked.
"Right."
The moment was then broken by the sound of approaching footsteps.
An officer strode onto the deck, stopping just short of them.
His voice was firm, professional.
"Waltz. Magician. The Admiral is ready to brief you."
Furina grinned, rolling her shoulders.
"Right. On our way."
She turned on her heel, making her way toward the briefing room.
Lyney shook his head slightly, letting out a quiet chuckle.
Then—
He followed.
As they stepped inside, the air in the briefing room was thick with tension.
The time for reflection was over.
The war was waiting.
And today—
They would take the first step in taking back the Teyvat Orbital Elevator.
Mission Briefing – A New Threat
The briefing room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Only two pilots were here.
Furina and Lyney.
At the front of the room, Admiral Augereau stood alone. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his posture said everything.
Something was wrong.
This wasn't a standard sortie.
This was something bigger.
They took their seats.
Then—
The Admiral began.
"New mission orders."
His tone was firm, measured.
"Alright, Waltz. Magician. This next phase of the mission depends on you two. We are now moving into Phase Two of Operation Liberty.
Your objective:
Assist Nocturne Squadron in securing air superiority over the Morozvyat Plateau.
The display screen flickered to life, revealing a detailed tactical map of the battlefield.
Furina and Lyney studied it carefully.
Red zones marked enemy-controlled airspace.
Blue arrows represented friendly forces attempting to break through.
Then—
The Admiral continued.
"AWACS Zaytun has reported additional enemy reinforcements inbound. This isn't a routine sweep anymore—"
His gaze hardened.
"—it's turning into an all-out aerial battle."
A pause.
Then—
"So it's time for you two to deploy immediately. Help Nocturne Squadron clear a secure route for allied squadrons advancing into enemy-controlled airspace."
The screen changed.
The map of Morozvyat Plateau disappeared.
Instead—
A new image filled the screen.
Something unfamiliar.
Something menacing.
Furina's eyes narrowed.
On the screen—
A sleek, angular UAV.
Its design was aggressive, its frame resembling a predator waiting to strike.
The Admiral spoke, his voice grave.
"Since the start of the war, Snezhnaya has been deploying drones. But now, we've identified a new model."
The image expanded, revealing detailed schematics.
"This is the MQ-101—an advanced next-generation attack drone. These aren't just standard UAVs—they're launched from a massive aerial carrier."
Then—
The display shifted again.
And Furina's breath hitched.
A colossal aircraft filled the screen.
Its massive frame housed six sub-propellers and two enormous main rotors, keeping the monstrous war machine afloat.
It was unlike anything they had ever seen.
The name flashed at the top of the display:
"The Seraphis Bird."
A flying fortress.
A war machine capable of deploying an entire swarm of MQ-101 drones into combat.
The tactical map reappeared, zooming out to show the Orbital Elevator at the center of a massive red zone.
A broken red line circled the battlefield, marking the Seraphis Bird's patrol route.
The Admiral's voice sharpened.
"The Seraphis Bird was originally developed as a joint project between Natlan and Sumeru—meant to protect the Teyvat Orbital Elevator."
Then—
His tone darkened.
"However…"
A pause.
Then, his next words sent a chill through the room.
"Multiple reports confirm that these assets have fallen into Snezhnayan hands."
Furina's jaw tightened.
Lyney let out a slow breath.
The implications were terrifying.
A flying fortress, designed for Teyvat's defense, now turned into Snezhnaya's deadliest weapon.
Furina broke the silence.
"If that's true… this will be a massive obstacle for future operations."
The Admiral nodded grimly.
"Get out there and give our squadrons the air support they need. Good luck."
The briefing was over.
They stood.
Saluted.
And without another word—
They left for the carrier's flight deck.
The mission had begun.
Takeoff – The Battle Begins
The main deck of the Blancheur was alive with movement.
Steam billowed from the catapults, shrouding the deck in a swirling haze.
Ground crews dashed between aircraft, each motion precise and rehearsed.
Engines roared, their howls reverberating across the vast steel deck.
Two jets stood at the forefront, poised for launch.
Catapult One: Lyney's F-35 Lightning II.
Catapult Two: Furina's Dassault Rafale M.
The deck crew signaled.
It was time.
Furina climbed the in-built ladder, her boots making firm contact with the metal rungs. She eased into her ejection seat, the cockpit wrapping around her like an extension of her own body.
Her movements were methodical, precise.
Harness secured.
Gloves tightened.
Helmet fitted.
She reached for the canopy switch.
A pressurized hiss filled the cockpit as the canopy sealed shut, locking her into her war machine. The world outside faded to a muted hum, replaced by the cold, calculated rhythm of her instruments.
Then—
Her fingers moved instinctively across the controls, initiating the engine start-up sequence.
The twin Snecma M88 engines roared to life, the cockpit vibrating as the turbines spooled up. The hum deepened into a low, menacing growl—power contained, ready to be unleashed.
She shifted her gaze to the right-side multi-function display (MFD).
Her flight plan was already uploaded.
Three waypoints:
The Blancheur – Home Base.
Snezhnayan Airspace – Hostile Zone.
The Shoreline – Engagement Area.
The weapons systems flickered online, their readiness confirmed by the HUD. A list of munitions scrolled across her visor.
Armament Status:
Long-Range Air-to-Air Missiles (LRAAMs) – Armed.
High-Capacity Air-to-Air Missiles (HCAAs) – Armed.
She was locked and loaded.
Then—
She glanced to her right.
Lyney was already giving the hand signal. A crisp salute.
Then—
His F-35 shot forward.
The catapult fired, launching the Lightning II off the deck in an explosive burst of raw power. Its afterburners ignited, twin tongues of fire streaking through the misty dawn as the jet climbed into the sky.
Furina smirked.
Then—
She turned to the Shooter standing beside her.
She gave the final hand signal.
A sharp salute.
Then—
She braced herself.
The Shooter returned the salute, crouched low, and pointed forward.
Launch confirmed.
Furina slammed the throttles to full military power.
The Rafale M's twin engines shrieked, their afterburners igniting in a searing inferno. The deck vibrated violently beneath her as raw thrust threatened to break loose.
Then—
The catapult fired.
The sudden force slammed her into her seat as the Rafale M surged forward like a bullet from a chamber. The acceleration was brutal, the world blurring past the canopy.
A heartbeat later—
She was airborne.
The deck of the Blancheur fell away beneath her, lost to the vast expanse of open sky.
She pulled back slightly on the stick, pitching the nose up into a controlled climb. Her airspeed stabilized.
With a flick of the switch—her landing gear retracted.
A final transmission crackled through her headset.
"Tidal Squadron away. Safe flight, Waltz."
Furina exhaled, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips.
Ahead, Lyney's F-35 glinted in the morning sun, its silhouette sleek against the sky.
She nudged the throttle forward, closing the gap to form up on his wing.
The mission had begun.
The Battle of Morozvyat
It took them only fifteen minutes to reach Morozvyat.
By the time Furina and Lyney entered the combat zone—
The IFF systems exploded with contacts.
The HUD lit up like a battlefield Christmas tree.
Dozens of enemy fighters.
"Holy shit, there's a lot of them."
Furina's eyes widened slightly, fingers tightening over the controls.
Lyney let out a sharp breath, his voice steady but laced with tension.
"No kidding. Nocturne Squadron needs backup—fast."
Then—
AWACS Zaytun crackled into their headsets.
"Welcome to the party, Tidal Squadron. Help yourself to some enemies—take them all out!"
Furina's grin widened.
"Wilco."
Then—
She slammed her throttles forward.
Her Rafale M roared, afterburners igniting in a fiery blue blast as she broke formation with Lyney.
"Tidal Two, engaging!"
Lyney shook his head, a smirk forming as he banked hard to follow.
"Tidal One, engaging. Following Tidal Two."
Into the Fray
The battlefield was chaos.
Explosions tore through the cold skies of Morozvyat.
Enemy aircraft darted in every direction, desperately trying to reform their broken formations.
Furina's eyes flicked between her HUD and the swirling air battle ahead.
A MiG-26 flashed into her sights—an outdated but still lethal interceptor.
She rolled right, smoothly pulling the targeting reticle over its fuselage.
Lock confirmed.
Her left thumb twitched.
"Fox Three!"
A high-capacity air-to-air missile (HCAA) detached from her wing.
The missile streaked forward, a white-hot spear cutting through the sky.
Before impact—
Furina rolled her Rafale inverted, tracking the kill from above as the missile struck.
The MiG-26 erupted, a fireball swallowed by the clouds below.
"Looks like the Élégante et Efficace pilot has arrived!"
Nocturne Two's voice came over the radio.
Lynette followed immediately.
"Oh, I am so glad to see you, Waltz."
Furina smirked.
"Que le spectacle commence, mes chéris."
Her eyes darted across the battle.
Then—
She caught movement.
A F-14A Tomcat.
A relic of another era—yet still dangerous in the right hands.
But something was off.
The pilot waved off.
A universal signal—surrender.
For half a second, she hesitated.
Then—
Her instinct took over.
"Fox Two!"
A Sidewinder missile screamed from her wing.
The Tomcat pilot never stood a chance.
The missile struck mid-turn, shearing off the left wing.
The F-14 spun into oblivion, wreckage vanishing into the snow below.
AWACS Zaytun confirmed the kill.
"Splash one for Tidal Two!"
Then—
A Su-25 attack aircraft streaked past her—low and fast.
Furina's instincts flared.
She slammed the stick hard right into a brutal 90-degree bank.
Then—
A savage high-G reversal.
The maneuver slammed her into her seat.
Her vision blurred at the edges—but she held firm.
The Su-25 snapped into her sights.
She pulled the trigger.
"Fox Two!"
The Sidewinder shrieked forward—
Direct hit.
The Su-25 disintegrated, fire engulfing the fuselage as it plunged toward the ground.
AWACS Zaytun came through.
"Splash one for Tidal Two!"
The Last Stand
The battle raged on.
Enemy fighters scrambled, struggling to mount a defense.
AWACS called out kills one after another.
"Nocturne One, splash one!"
"Nocturne Five, splash one!"
"Nocturne Two, splash one!"
Then—
The last three enemy fighters came into view.
Three Su-27 Flankers.
But one of them had locked onto Furina.
And it wasn't letting go.
"Waltz! Missile inbound! Evade! Evade!"
Lyney's voice cut through the comms, urgency sharp in his tone.
Her HUD flashed red.
A Su-30 had her in its crosshairs.
Then—
It fired.
Two Sidewinders.
A death sentence.
Furina's mind raced.
A traditional evade wouldn't work.
Then—
She made her move.
Throttle—IDLE.
Stick—FULL PITCH UP.
Rudder—HARD LEFT.
Her Rafale M snapped into a perfect 90-degree nose-up climb.
Then—
She kicked the rudder.
The aircraft yawed sharply into a brutal 360-degree spin.
A textbook Pugachev Cobra.
The Su-30 screamed past her.
The enemy pilot's voice crackled over open comms.
"Holy fuck!"
The missiles streaked harmlessly beneath her, losing lock.
Then—
Before the Su-30 could react—
Two Sidewinders left her hardpoints.
Direct impact.
The Su-30 erupted in a fireball, debris scattering across the sky.
AWACS Zaytun confirmed the kill.
"Splash one for Tidal Two!"
The remaining Su-30s didn't last long.
Nocturne One and Nocturne Four picked them off moments later.
AWACS called them in.
"Nocturne One, splash."
"Nocturne Four, splash."
Then—
Silence.
A moment of stillness.
Then—
AWACS Zaytun's voice cut through the comms.
"All enemy aircraft down. We have it!"
"Le pilote élégant a fait le travail efficacement!"
Nocturne Three's excited voice came through the radio.
Furina laughed, her voice filled with confidence and amusement.
"Merci, merci!"
Her body relaxed—just slightly.
They had won.
Then—
Her cockpit screamed in warning.
A new threat had just entered the battlefield.
A harsh, rapid beeping.
Then—
The missile lock warning blared.
"What the hell!?"
Lynette's voice barked over the radio.
"I'm locked!"
Nocturne Two's panicked voice followed.
Furina's stomach twisted as she saw every squadron member's HUD explode with threat indicators.
A full saturation attack.
Every single fighter was targeted simultaneously.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't just an ambush.
Something else was here.
"Everyone, evade!"
Without hesitation—
The squadron broke formation.
Jets twisted into wild, erratic maneuvers.
Flares and chaff burst outward like fireworks.
Furina yanked back on the stick, her Rafale rolling inverted, climbing high into the clouds.
Then—
AWACS Zaytun's voice came through, tight with tension.
"ALERT! ALERT! Massive aircraft inbound! Keep evading! Stand by for identification!"
Furina's heart pounded.
She pushed higher, piercing the cloud cover.
And then—
Her eyes widened in horror.
There it was.
A leviathan in the sky.
A war machine beyond imagination.
The Seraphis Bird.
It loomed over the battlefield, its monstrous silhouette blotting out the sun. An airborne fortress—feared in doctrine, but never before seen in real combat.
Then—
"FUCK! It's the Seraphis Bird!"
Silence.
Then—
Nocturne Two's voice cracked.
"The WHAT?!"
Nocturne Four echoed, his tone edged with disbelief.
"Seraphis Bird?"
Lynette's voice cut through the comms, sharp with realization.
"Those fuckers had it ready all along…!"
Then—
From beneath the Seraphis Bird, dozens of sleek black silhouettes detached.
A swarm of mechanical nightmares.
"Shit! It's launching drones!"
Furina's HUD flared red as the swarm of MQ-101s scattered outward like predatory wasps.
AWACS Zaytun confirmed their worst fear.
"Confirmed! Mission Control orders—take it down!"
Lyney's voice exploded in disbelief.
"Are you fucking insane?!"
Furina's grip on the throttle tightened.
"If we take out the propellers, we can bring it down!"
Then—
She slammed the throttles forward.
The Rafale M roared, afterburners igniting.
She broke the sound barrier.
No turning back now.
Lyney cursed but relented.
"Waltz! We're behind you! Nocturne One, Nocturne Three—form up on her!"
"Wilco! Following the Waltz!"
The Seraphis Bird's massive dual rotors howled, a mechanical storm keeping the airborne warship aloft.
Furina dove beneath it, eyes locked onto the rear propellers.
Target locked.
"Fox Two!"
Twin Sidewinders screamed toward the propellers.
Direct hits.
Explosions ripped through the rotors, flames gushing from the shattered mechanics.
AWACS Zaytun called it in.
"Tidal Two has disabled a main propeller! We need more support!"
Furina didn't hesitate.
She rolled left, locking onto the second main rotor.
Another pair of Sidewinders.
Impact.
Fire erupted from the crippled engine.
"Both main propellers down!"
Nocturne One, Nocturne Three, and Lyney coordinated their strike.
Each sub-propeller detonated in perfect sync.
The Seraphis Bird lurched.
AWACS Zaytun confirmed.
"All sub-propellers are down! Now take out the drones!"
As Tidal and Nocturne squadrons engaged the MQ-101s—
A new voice cut through the radio.
"Ianus Squadron engaging the Seraphis Bird. We'll handle the defenses!"
Furina's eyes widened.
Ianus Squadron—seven F-16s—had entered the fight.
Five dived onto the Seraphis Bird, ripping apart its weapon systems.
Two provided cover.
Ianus Three shouted.
"Damn! These drones are fast!"
Then—
An explosion.
AWACS Zaytun's voice darkened.
"Ianus One is lost! Ianus Two, take lead!"
"Ianus One is down! Ianus Two, you're in command!"
The fight turned desperate.
Furina gunned down four drones.
Nocturne Squadron tore through six more.
Then—
A deep, mechanical hum rumbled through the air.
Above them—
The Seraphis Bird's massive blue energy ring suddenly flashed red.
Lyney's voice cracked.
"What the fuck is it doing?!"
Then—
The ring expanded.
AWACS Zaytun's voice turned urgent.
"EVERYONE! BREAK AWAY FROM THE SERAPHIS BIRD! I REPEAT—BREAK AWAY!"
Furina yanked her stick, rolling hard out of range.
But—
Ianus Squadron—
Too late.
The energy shield erupted outward like a tidal wave of death.
The first F-16 was engulfed.
Disintegrated instantly.
"IANUS FIVE IS GONE!"
Then—
Another.
Then—
Another.
"IANUS FOUR, GONE!"
"IANUS SIX, GONE!"
"IANUS TWO, FUCKING EVA—"
Then—
Static.
Silence.
Nothing left.
AWACS Zaytun's voice was hollow.
"Ianus Squadron… lost."
Lynette's voice shook.
"A-All of them?!"
AWACS Zaytun exhaled.
Voice tight.
"All of them."
Furina slammed her hand against the cockpit panel.
"FUCK!"
AWACS Zaytun's voice remained grim.
"We have to proceed. Take out the remaining drones."
Furina's grip tightened.
Her blood boiled.
"Roger."
She shoved the throttles forward.
Her Rafale roared ahead, chasing the last ten drones with unrelenting fury.
The battle wasn't over yet.
The Nocturne Squadron engaged alongside her, their jets slicing through the sky like blades, weaving between streams of tracer fire and contrails of missiles.
Above them, the Seraphis Bird burned, its colossal frame losing altitude, but the battle was far from over.
The remaining MQ-101s maneuvered like specters, their cold, machine-like precision turning the fight into a brutal game of survival.
Furina locked onto two drones.
One of them snapped into a high-G maneuver—ripping from a near-vertical climb into a sudden, stomach-churning nose-dive.
A standard fighter pilot would have overshot, forced to recover before re-engaging.
But Furina wasn't a standard pilot.
Her grip tightened on the stick.
"You're not getting away."
She yanked the throttles to idle.
Her left thumb hit the spoileron control.
Instantly, the Rafale M responded—inner elevons snapping up, outer elevons twisting, front canards rotating aggressively.
The jet pitched over unnaturally, from a 90-degree climb into a vertical dive.
The sudden shift crushed her into the seat, her vision blurring, her lungs struggling against the G-forces. The airframe groaned under the stress.
She fought through it.
The drone's afterburner flickered ahead of her.
Target locked.
Furina squeezed the trigger.
"Fox Three!"
Two Sidewinders leapt from the rails.
The first missile struck center mass—punching through the MQ-101's fuselage.
The second detonated a fraction of a second later, obliterating what was left.
Shattered synthetic armor and charred fragments spiraled into the abyss below.
AWACS Zaytun cut in.
"Tidal Two, splash one!"
Meanwhile, Nocturne One and Three picked off two more drones, cutting the enemy count down to seven.
For a brief second, Furina thought they were gaining control.
Then—
Disaster.
A shrill warning tone blared in her headset.
"FUCK! I'M HIT!"
Nocturne Two—Calcagni.
Her F/A-18 veered off-course, trailing thick, black smoke. A missile had ripped into her left wing, leaving a mangled, burning crater along the fuselage.
Lynette's voice snapped over the comms, laced with urgency.
"Nocturne Two, don't risk it! RTB! That's a direct order!"
A frustrated sigh.
Then—
"Roger. RTB."
Calcagni peeled away, her jet struggling against its own damage.
Furina grit her teeth.
One less fighter in the air.
One more pilot at risk of never making it home.
She forced down the frustration.
"Focus on the fight."
"Tidal Two, engaging!"
She picked out three more drones, her anger fueling every maneuver.
The MQ-101s darted wildly—inhumanly fast, unpredictable.
Furina refused to let them slip away.
One. Two. Three.
She fired.
Three missiles screamed off the rails.
Three fireballs erupted in the sky.
AWACS Zaytun's voice came through, clipped and urgent.
"Tidal Two, splash three! Only four left!"
Then—
A new distress call.
"I NEED SUPPORT! I'M BEING CHASED!"
Furina's stomach dropped.
Nocturne Two.
AWACS Zaytun hesitated—then, a grim confirmation.
"Nocturne Two is engaged in a dogfight. With…"
A pause.
Then—
"An Su-57."
Silence.
Then—Calcagni's voice cracked with fear.
"Everyone! Anyone!? Please help! I need support!"
Lynette's voice was sharp, desperate.
"Hold on! We're almost finished here!"
Furina's pulse thundered in her ears.
She chased another drone into a vertical climb.
She fired.
"Tidal Two, splash one!"
But then—
A scream over the radio.
"HELP! I NEED HE—"
Then—
An explosion.
A burst of static.
Silence.
Then—
A raw, horrified cry.
"NOCTURNE TWO IS DOWN!"
AWACS Zaytun's voice came next. Hollow.
"Nocturne Two… lost."
The Su-57's missile had struck center-mass. Directly into the cockpit.
Calcagni never had a chance.
Furina's vision blurred with rage.
"Fucking bastard."
Her hands shook on the throttle.
Her muscles locked.
Her breath hitched.
"I've had enough."
She shoved the throttle forward—afterburners roaring to life.
Her Rafale M became a spear, tearing toward the last two drones with unrelenting fury.
She locked on.
"Fox Two!"
A Sidewinder streaked away.
A split second later—
A fireball.
One left.
The final MQ-101 broke behind her, attempting to lock onto her six.
A fatal mistake.
Furina's fingers flicked the throttle—snapping it into idle.
Her jet lurched—
A brutal, violent Pugachev maneuver.
The MQ-101 overshot instantly.
She jammed the stick right, rolling into position.
Her finger tightened on the trigger.
"Fox Two!"
One missile.
One explosion.
One last kill.
AWACS Zaytun's voice came through—quiet.
"Tidal Two, splash one. That's the last of them."
Then—AWACS sighed.
"All enemies down. RTB."
Silence.
Then—
The weight of everything hit.
Calcagni was gone.
Furina punched in the home waypoint.
Her Rafale climbed to 15,000 feet, breaking through the layers of fading sunlight and deepening twilight. The sky stretched endless above her—dark, indifferent.
She switched to autopilot.
Her hands clenched into fists.
The remaining Nocturne Squadron and Tidal One formed up around her, their formation tighter than usual. Their jets flew in silence, the usual chatter absent, the empty frequency a reminder of who was missing.
No one spoke.
The weight of silence, of loss, of failure, pressed down like a specter.
Then, Lynette's voice came through. Soft. Quiet. Uncharacteristically subdued.
"She was a good girl. A good fighter. A brave one."
Nocturne Three, normally the first to crack a joke, sounded hollow.
"She was a helluva fighter, Ritesword."
Furina said nothing.
She stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the distant horizon, where the last sliver of daylight faded into the void.
She didn't let her voice shake.
She didn't let herself break.
Not yet.
Not now.
She buried the grief beneath cold, disciplined control.
And flew toward home.
It took twenty minutes before they finally reached the Blancheur.
And another fifteen before everyone landed.
The main deck was alive with movement—crew members rushed to assist Nocturne Squadron, guiding their battered aircraft into position.
Technicians checked for damage.
Ground crews refueled the remaining fighters.
But Furina didn't move.
She remained seated in her Rafale.
Her canopy open.
Her engines silent.
Her helmet resting in her lap.
Her right hand pressed against the bridge of her nose, fingers trembling.
She was holding back tears.
Her breath came in uneven shudders.
Her mind replayed the battle. The chaos. The screaming.
Calcagni. Ianus Squadron.
Gone.
Just like that.
She shook her head.
Bit her lip.
Muttered a single, broken word.
"Fuck…"
It was really sinking in now.
This wasn't just a fight.
This wasn't just another mission.
This was war.
And it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
Furina exhaled sharply, forcing the tremble out of her breath.
She glanced at her watch.
5:30 PM.
Sunset.
The sky was a blend of gold and deep orange, the ocean mirroring the colors like an endless glass pane. The last warmth of the sun lingered on her skin, fleeting.
She let the moment pass through her.
Then—without another word—
She climbed down from her Rafale and walked straight toward the briefing room.
The Aftermath – Debriefing the Disaster
Minutes later, the briefing room was silent.
Everyone sat exhausted. Broken. Grieving.
Admiral Augereau stood at the front.
Hands clasped behind his back.
Expression grim. Hollow.
He didn't need to say a word.
They already knew.
The display flickered to life, replaying the timeline of the operation.
A series of red markers spread across the map—
Each one marking where lives were lost.
"The two-front offensive… was a failure."
Silence.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
They all knew what was coming next.
"The aircraft carrier Arkhe Two was sunk off the coast of Morepesok during the attack."
"Along with that, we suffered severe losses."
Then—the names.
"Calcagni."
"The entire Ianus Squadron."
The room felt colder.
Furina's hands curled into fists beneath the table.
It should've been me.
The Admiral let out a slow, heavy breath, shaking his head.
"But if it weren't for Nocturne One, Tidal One, Nocturne Three… and especially Waltz—"
Every pair of eyes turned to Furina.
She didn't react.
Didn't even blink.
The Admiral continued.
"Many of us here might not be sitting in this briefing room today."
A pause.
His expression darkened.
"We're running out of time. We need to reach that Orbital Elevator before it's too late."
Then—his voice dropped.
An almost defeated whisper.
"That's all. Everyone, dismissed."
The pilots slowly filed out.
Some headed for their rooms, seeking rest, isolation, or maybe even sleep that wouldn't come.
Others walked toward the viewing deck, hoping to clear their minds.
Furina?
She walked in the opposite direction.
Straight back to the main deck.
Her boots echoed against the metal flooring, each step heavier than the last.
She moved to the stern, where the endless ocean met the burning horizon.
The sun was sinking below the waves, painting the sky in deep crimson and violet hues.
She stood there.
Silent. Motionless.
The wind brushed against her face, carrying the distant murmur of waves against the hull.
Her hands gripped the railing.
Her chest felt tight.
Her eyes burned.
But she refused to let the tears fall.
It had completely sunk in now.
She was part of this war.
No matter how much she wanted to deny it.
No matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise.
This was her reality now.
And then—
Her expression changed.
Her gaze hardened.
Her jaw clenched.
Her hands trembled—
Not with grief.
But with anger.
She whispered, her voice cold. Unwavering.
"If this is the first and last war I fight in…"
Her fingers tightened around the metal railing.
"I won't back down."
Her eyes narrowed.
Dark with rage.
"Not until this comes to an end."
She exhaled sharply, her breath hot with determination.
"I'll do everything I have to."
The wind howled around her.
But she didn't move.
Her gaze was locked on the horizon.
Then—her final words.
"Even if it means sacrificing myself…"
"I'll end this fucking war."
She turned on her heel.
Walked back toward her quarters.
Not hesitating.
Not doubting.
Not stopping.
As she and the others waited for their next sortie…
Furina knew one thing for certain.
She wasn't afraid anymore.
She was angry.
And nothing would stop her now.