Securing The Elevator
One Week Later – October 31st
The sun rose sluggishly over Dymny Kordon Air Force Base, its golden light spilling across the tarmac like molten metal. The autumn sky, a deep, frostbitten blue, carried the crisp bite of the morning cold—the kind that settled into your bones and refused to leave.
It had been a week since the battle over Crimson Moon Castle.
A week since the Devil of the Skies and the Ace of Teyvat had fought side by side.
And even as the tension of old rivalries faded, the weight of war remained—coiled in the shadows, waiting for its next move.
Unlikely Allies – A Sight No One Expected
The once unthinkable had happened.
Arlecchino Snezhevna. The Knave.
Her Hearth Squadron had officially retreated to Dymny Kordon under the Teyvat Strategic Strike Group's banner.
Once bitter enemies, now reluctant allies.
It was a sight no one would've believed months ago—the Devil of the Skies standing shoulder to shoulder with Fontaine's most legendary ace.
And for once—
The two deadliest pilots in Teyvat were getting along.
The Hangar – Two Beasts of War
The vast hangar was alive with movement.
Technicians worked tirelessly, their voices low, their tools clattering against steel.
Engines roared in the distance, sending vibrations through the concrete.
The scent of jet fuel, grease, and cold metal lingered in the air.
At the heart of the space, two predators stood side by side.
Furina's Dassault Rafale M gleamed under the morning sun, its livery an unmistakable signature. Deep blue, sky blue, white, and black flowed seamlessly across the airframe, as if the aircraft itself moved like water. A golden emblem of a crown over flowing water stood proud on its tail.
Beneath the canopy, painted in elegant script—
Élégante et Efficace.
A declaration.
A promise.
Grace and lethality.
Beside it, Arlecchino's Su-57 Felon loomed like a shadow, its angular design exuding menace. Even at rest, it looked like a beast waiting to strike.
Arlecchino, clad in her flight suit, ran a gloved hand along the Rafale's fuselage, her voice carrying a rare moment of nostalgia.
"You know… I've always wanted to fly other jets."
Furina glanced at her, intrigued.
"Fighters beyond Snezhnaya?"
Arlecchino nodded.
"Mhm. Sure, my Air Force operates F/A-18s too, but I never got the chance to be assigned to one."
Furina smirked, shoving her hands into her pockets.
"Never did get the chance to fly a Snezhnayan jet myself." She glanced at the Su-57, its sleek, predatory form casting a long shadow across the hangar floor. "But I'll give you this—your aircraft maneuver like demons out of hell."
Arlecchino grinned.
"Mhm. And yours? It's unmistakable. The moment you show up, everyone recognizes it. Especially that golden crown."
Furina chuckled, resting a hand on the cold metal of her Rafale's nose.
"Well, at the Fontaine Royal Air Force Academy, the top graduate gets the privilege of designing their own fighter's livery."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Of all the top graduates before me, none of them ever took the opportunity."
She tapped the painted phrase beside her canopy.
"I was the first."
Arlecchino raised an eyebrow.
"So this was all your idea? The color scheme, the emblem—everything?"
Furina nodded.
"Designed it myself. Added little details and references to my life, my training."
She ran a hand over the words Élégante et Efficace, a faint smile crossing her lips.
"A little tagline my batchmates gave me."
Then, her gaze drifted slightly.
"And the gold crown? That was… well…"
She hesitated.
A flicker of something unspoken passed behind her eyes before she sighed, shaking her head.
"When I was a kid, I wanted to be an actor."
Arlecchino blinked in surprise.
"An actor? You?"
Furina shrugged.
"Yeah. But that dream didn't last long."
She leaned against her fighter, eyes drifting toward the morning sky.
"My uncle—my dad's brother—flew for the Fontaine Air Force. I still remember watching him take off from Charybdis Air Force Base in his Rafale."
A quiet moment passed.
Her voice softened, tinged with nostalgia.
"The moment I saw him disappear into the sky, I knew."
She clenched a fist.
"I didn't want to perform on a stage."
"I wanted to defend the skies I called home."
A Past That Won't Fade
Arlecchino crossed her arms, nodding slowly.
A pause.
A sigh.
A heavy, weary thing.
"Furina…"
Arlecchino's voice was quieter now.
Almost uncertain.
"I'm sorry."
Furina frowned.
"For what?"
Arlecchino shook her head.
"Nocturne Two."
A beat of silence.
Furina exhaled, long and slow.
"It happened," she said at last. "It's war. We never expected to become allies. What's in the past… is in the past."
She hesitated, then smirked slightly.
"Though, I know Calcagni won't be too happy about it."
"Or maybe," she added, "he'll be glad you had a change of heart."
Arlecchino rubbed her right eye, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through.
"I never wanted any of this," she admitted. "I wasn't even supposed to be in this war."
She clenched her fists.
"Imperatora forced my hand. They needed my data. I was just… another tool. Another weapon."
Her voice darkened.
"Real sorties, simulator sessions, forced deployments. Everything they could do to perfect their drones. I had no choice."
Furina studied her for a moment before speaking again.
"I know I shouldn't bring this up… but what about your mentor? Crucabena?"
Arlecchino's expression hardened instantly.
"She…" She exhaled sharply. "She betrayed Snezhnaya."
A shadow passed over her face.
"She went AWOL days before the war ended. We were sent to track her down."
Her voice turned hollow.
"I took her down. I killed her."
Silence.
Furina placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You did what you had to do."
The Briefing – 'Let's end this war.'
Furina checked her Speedmaster.
8:45 AM.
"Come on, Arlecchino. Jean's waiting. She got some intel from someone."
Arlecchino nodded.
Then—
"Furina?"
Furina turned.
"Thank you."
A small nod.
"It's alright."
And with that, the two aces walked side by side, their footsteps echoing across the hangar floor.
The Final War Begins
Dymny Kordon Air Force Base – The Briefing Room
The briefing room was packed—more than ever before.
This space, once reserved for the elite squadrons of the Teyvat Strategic Strike Group, now held even greater legends.
Waltz Squadron.
Primordial Squadron.
And now—Hearth Squadron.
Enemies turned allies.
The best pilots in Teyvat, assembled under one roof.
The air was thick with anticipation, the scent of aviation fuel and sweat clinging to flight suits. The faint hum of distant aircraft rumbled through the floor. Every seat was filled. Some stood against the walls, others leaned over tables, arms crossed, flight helmets resting beside them.
The weight of the war pressed down on the room.
They all knew.
This would be the final battle.
A Room Holding Its Breath
The double doors swung open.
All eyes snapped forward.
Furina de Fontaine and Arlecchino stepped inside.
Two of the deadliest pilots in Teyvat.
Side by side.
Their boots echoed against the floor as they surveyed the gathered squadrons. There was no need for words. The storm had already settled in their eyes.
Furina moved with her usual grace, but there was a sharpness to her posture—an unshakable resolve. Arlecchino's expression was unreadable, save for the flicker of something dangerous in her crimson gaze.
Silently, they took their seats near the front.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Then—
Jean stood.
She placed both hands on the table, fingers splayed, scanning the room. A sea of killers, warriors, aces who had carried this war on their backs.
A beat passed.
Then, her voice cut through the silence.
"Alright, everyone. Listen up. This is something big."
She let the weight of those words settle before continuing.
"I received communication from our partially restored general network. And this is huge. So listen carefully."
The room fell deathly still.
Jean took a slow breath, then read aloud:
"The Snezhnayan Radicals and Rebels have gathered around the Teyvat Orbital Elevator."
A shift rippled through the pilots. A few exchanged glances. Others merely clenched their jaws.
"It's their source of energy."
A heavier pause.
"Give warmongers an energy source, and they'll have the luxury to keep this war going."
The words sank like lead in their stomachs.
Low murmurs rippled through the room, but Jean wasn't finished.
She leaned forward, voice sharp as a blade.
"The response to this message?"
She let it hang.
Then—
"Every single nation in Teyvat is mobilizing."
A War United
The shift in the room was instant.
Furina's eyes widened slightly. Wriothesley, who had remained motionless, let out a quiet breath through his nose. Arlecchino tapped a gloved finger against the table, thoughtful.
Jean continued, her tone edged with finality.
"Mondstadt. Liyue. Inazuma. Sumeru. Fontaine. Natlan…"
A pause.
Then, the hammer blow.
"And even the Snezhnayan Conservatives."
A shockwave went through the pilots.
The idea of Snezhnayans turning against their own radical factions—fighting alongside their former enemies—had once been unthinkable.
Not anymore.
This wasn't just a battle.
This was a reckoning.
Jean pressed on.
"If I say everyone, I mean everyone."
She took a step forward.
"This isn't just the air forces. The naval fleets are moving in too."
The tension thickened.
"Destroyers. Submarines. Aircraft carriers. Every warship we have."
"A full saturation assault from both air and sea."
Furina exhaled slowly, the gravity of the moment settling in her chest.
This wasn't just another mission.
This was the end of the war.
Jean's voice didn't waver.
"Our first objective—eliminate the final Sepharis Bird. Celestia."
Silence.
The last airborne fortress.
The final monster in the sky.
Celestia had haunted the war from the very beginning. Bigger. More fortified. The most advanced of them all.
And it had to die.
Jean's gaze swept over the gathered pilots.
"Once Celestia is down, our forces will storm the Orbital Elevator and take control from the aggressors."
She paused.
"This is it."
The war would end one way or another.
Ningguang, calm as ever, raised a perfectly manicured finger.
"Is this source genuine?"
Jean didn't hesitate.
She tapped the report, eyes gleaming with certainty.
"Listen to the last part."
She cleared her throat.
Then—
"Hey. All you dumbasses. Including you, Captain Golden Crown."
A few pilots blinked.
Jean smirked.
"If you want to bring the war to a goddamned end, get to the Orbital Elevator."
"You can see the future there."
A beat of silence.
Then—
Furina let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head.
"Albedo… The Aircraft Alchemist himself."
Jean nodded.
"It's from the folks we met at Zephyr's Island."
"The Drowned Squadron—51st Teyvat Air Force Division."
She locked eyes with Furina.
"It's a call to every last one of us who wants this war to be over."
Furina said nothing.
She didn't need to.
She understood.
No more waiting.
No more planning.
No more running.
The War's End
Jean grabbed her helmet, lifting it high.
Her voice rose like a war drum pounding before battle.
"Everyone! Let's bring this war to an end!"
A pause.
Then, her smirk widened.
"And roast ourselves a bird!"
The room erupted.
Chairs scraped violently against the floor.
Pilots shot up from their seats.
Helmets were snatched up.
Flight suits were zipped tight.
Boots thundered against the ground as they moved.
The hangars awaited.
The skies awaited.
And in the distance, soaring above the horizon,
Celestia—the last Sepharis Bird—
cast its long, dreadful shadow over the world.
For the first time in the war—
Teyvat stood as one.
And the final battle was about to begin.
Dymny Kordon Air Force Base – The Last Sortie
Dymny Kordon Air Force Base was alive—one last time.
The airfield, once filled with the constant rhythm of war, now pulsed with a different kind of energy. Not one of routine, nor of maintenance, but of finality.
Refueling trucks sat motionless—empty, their duty fulfilled.
Weapons crews checked missile racks, knowing these would be the last they ever loaded.
Ground personnel moved with quiet, unwavering focus—because today, there were no second chances.
When the last fighter left the runway, this base would be abandoned.
Dymny Kordon, once a stronghold in this war, would be left behind.
This was it.
This was the final flight out of Dymny Kordon.
Furina's Ritual – A Pilot and Her Aircraft
Furina strode toward her Dassault Rafale M, her gaze locked onto its sleek, lethal silhouette.
The livery, a flowing mix of deep blue, sky blue, white, and black, shimmered under the morning sun—a reflection of the endless sky itself.
Upon the tail, the golden crown emblem gleamed—a symbol burned into the minds of every pilot in Teyvat. A mark of skill, of dominance, of her legacy.
Beside the canopy, the words "Élégante et Efficace" stood proud.
A declaration.
A truth.
Hers.
She exhaled, stepping onto the built-in ladder and hoisting herself into the cockpit.
Sliding into the ejection seat, she let the familiar contours mold against her body.
Then—muscle memory took over.
Harness over shoulders. Buckled. Straps tightened.
The metallic click of the buckles sent a shiver of familiarity through her.
She reached for her helmet.
Lift. Slide. Adjust.
The scent of sweat, rubber, and synthetic padding filled her senses.
Every pilot knew that smell.
A final motion—her oxygen mask secured.
The hiss of the airtight seal locked into place, an almost comforting sound.
She leaned forward, tapping her left Multi-Function Display (MFD).
One waypoint.
One target.
The Teyvat Orbital Elevator.
The place where everything would end.
Her breath fogged the edge of her visor as she exhaled slowly.
This is it.
This mission would decide the fate of this war.
She reached for the canopy switch, flipping it.
A hydraulic whirr filled the cockpit as the reinforced glass sealed her away from the world.
Her hand moved instinctively, retracting the ladder.
No turning back.
Startup Sequence – Breathing Life Into the Machine
Furina flipped the main electrical switch from STBY to RIGHT.
The Rafale hummed to life.
A beast awakening beneath her hands.
The right-side Snecma M88-2 engine spooled up, its low whine growing into a deep, mechanical howl.
Her eyes flicked to the N2 gauge.
10%... 15%... 20%... 25%...
At 25%, she pushed the right engine management lever from STOP to IDLE.
Fuel flow initiated.
A brief pause—
Then—
Ignition.
A guttural growl vibrated through the Rafale's airframe.
The EGT (Exhaust Gas Temperature) climbed, then stabilized.
One down. One to go.
She repeated the process, switching from RIGHT to LEFT.
Seconds later, the second M88-2 engine roared to life, its sound merging with the first.
Both engines—nominal.
She switched to squadron comms.
A Final Roll Call – "Ready to end a war?"
Her voice crackled over the radio.
"Waltz Squadron. Ready to end a war?"
The responses came sharp, steady.
"Waltz Two. Ready to end this." (Clorinde)
"Waltz Three. Let's get that bird." (Wriothesley)
"Waltz Four. Let's rock it." (Eula)
"Waltz Five. Let's all do this thing." (Collei)
Furina nodded, the ghost of a smirk forming beneath her mask.
"Waltz Squadron—sortie."
She disengaged the parking brake, feeling the subtle lurch forward as her Rafale rolled onto the taxiway.
Behind her, one by one, the others followed.
Clorinde and Wriothesley's Rafale M.
Eula's F-15E Strike Eagle.
Collei's Rafale M.
Then—The Primordial Squadron.
Jean and Amber's F-14B Tomcat.
Ningguang, Raiden, and Mavuika's F-15E Strike Eagles.
Then—Hearth Squadron.
Arlecchino's Su-57 Felon.
Followed by the rest of Hearth Squadron's Su-57s.
They lined up at the runway threshold.
The Last Takeoff – A Skybound Reckoning
Furina was first.
Her gloved hand tightened around the throttle.
This was it.
She slammed the throttle forward.
The twin M88-2 engines erupted, afterburners igniting like twin blue suns.
The Rafale surged forward, the G-force slamming her back into her seat as she accelerated down the runway.
The runway lights blurred past—
120 knots… 140 knots… 160 knots…
At 172 knots, she gently pulled back on the sidestick.
The nose lifted.
The Rafale glided off the runway, smoothly transitioning from ground to sky.
She reached for the landing gear lever—
Thump. Locked in place.
Then—one by one, the rest of the squadron lifted off.
Five-second intervals.
Each fighter roared into the cold autumn sky, streaking toward the horizon like a pack of hunting wolves.
The last takeoff from Dymny Kordon Air Force Base.
Furina banked eastward, her Rafale slicing through the sky.
She glanced at her watch.
The second hand ticked forward.
The 45-minute flight to the Teyvat Orbital Elevator had begun.
And with it—
The final battle.
The war's final hour had arrived.
45 Minutes Later – War in the Heavens
The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays shimmering across the vast ocean below.
The battlefield stretched for miles, an expanse of death and fire, where the last stand of the war unfolded in the skies above Teyvat's beating heart.
The Teyvat Orbital Elevator, a colossal monolith of steel and ambition, pierced the heavens, caught in the eye of a storm not of nature, but of war itself.
Explosions rippled through the air.
Missiles streaked like falling stars.
Fighter jets twisted and turned in a brutal aerial ballet.
Machine gun tracers carved death into the sky.
The war had reached its climax.
Skybound Fury – The Dance of Death
A Snezhnayan Conservative Su-30 was in a high-speed chase, pursuing a Rebellion Su-30, which in turn had an Armée de l'Air Fontaine F-35C Lightning II in its sights.
The Rebellion Su-30 let loose two missiles, then immediately pulled into a hard left break, trying to reposition.
The F-35 pilot reacted instantly, also breaking left to avoid getting caught in a crossfire.
The enemy Su-30 never stood a chance.
The twin missiles found their mark, exploding against its fuselage and sending a fireball spiraling toward the ocean below.
A confirmed kill.
The F-35 pilot quickly rejoined formation with the friendly Snezhnayan Conservative Su-30, tipping its wings in acknowledgment.
"Thanks! I owe you one!"
The Su-30 pilot chuckled.
"Don't sweat it! We're all in this together!"
And with that, the two jets split off, diving back into the fray.
The Arrival of the Teyvat Strategic Strike Group
Above the battlefield, three squadrons arrived in perfect formation.
The final reinforcements—the cavalry that would turn the tide.
Waltz Squadron
Primordial Squadron
Hearth Squadron
Their arrival did not go unnoticed.
The radio crackled to life—a transmission from the Teyvat United Peacekeeping Force Headquarters.
"What do you know? It's the Teyvat Strategic Strike Group! Looks like our luck has turned around!"
"TSSG, assist in securing air superiority!"
"Your IFF systems are being updated—all Snezhnayan Conservatives are now marked as friendlies. Any remaining government loyalists and rebellion aircraft are still marked as hostiles."
AWACS Visionaire confirmed the update.
"We just verified it. Your HUDs should now reflect the changes."
Then, HQ spoke again—this time, with a tone of unshakable determination.
"Time to show them what you've got!"
Furina grinned beneath her mask, her eyes drinking in the chaos of war.
"Well, what do you know… Everyone's here."
She slammed the throttle to full power.
"Time to end this! Everyone, break formation and spread out! Let's help our allies!"
Her squadron, along with Primordial and Hearth Squadron, fanned out, diving headfirst into the maelstrom.
Reunions in the Firestorm
As Furina engaged the active warzone, a familiar voice crackled through the radio.
"Hey, Waltz! Remember me?"
A smirk tugged at her lips.
"How could I forget you, Magician?"
Lyney's laughter came through the radio.
"Glad to see you made it, Furina!"
Then, another voice.
"Furina! It's Lynette—Ritesword! One helluva reunion with your old pals from the 405th Squadron, huh?"
Furina chuckled.
"Nice to hear from you too, Lynette! How's the squadron holding up?"
Lynette's response was filled with pride.
"Just one now. Nocturne and Tidal Squadron merged into one. We're all Nocturne now."
"But enough with the reunion—let's finish this war!"
Furina's eyes snapped upward.
Targets.
High above.
She yanked her sidestick, rolling into a steep climb—her target:
An enemy Su-30, hunting a Snezhnayan Conservative MiG-25 Foxbat.
Before she could engage, the radio crackled again.
A War United – "We Are the Coalition"
"To all forces gathered here today—regardless of your nation—this is the Teyvat Union Peacekeeping Force Headquarters."
"No. Forget that designation."
A pause.
Then—
"We are the Coalition."
"Formed exclusively for the purpose of taking down the final Sepharis Bird—Celestia."
"Hold position until we are ready to strike together."
More voices joined the radio net.
"This is Voynich Squadron. Heading toward the rendezvous point."
"AWACS Zaytun—we're entering your airspace."
Then came a voice Furina never expected to hear again.
"This is Hearth Squadron. We're engaging."
An unfamiliar pilot responded with shock.
"Wait. That's The Knave! I thought she got shot down!"
A second pilot cut in.
"Don't worry. She's alive, isn't she? She's here to help us. She's an ally now."
Dogfights in the Inferno
While the radio chatter filled the airwaves, Furina was already three kills deep.
She pulled out of a dive—just in time for an enemy F-22A Raptor to streak past her, its metallic body gleaming under the sun.
She gritted her teeth, yanking the stick into a high-G turn to pursue.
"Alright, Raptor. This is 2009 all over again. Show me what you've got!"
The F-22 pilot fought desperately, pulling hard turns, bleeding speed, and trying to shake her off with erratic maneuvers.
But Furina stayed on his tail, working her throttle and rudder, matching every move with the precision of a predator.
A missile warning blared, but she trusted her instincts.
TONE.
LOCK.
"Fox Two!"
A Sidewinder missile streaked away, its vapor trail glowing against the sunlit sky.
She broke left to avoid any potential counterfire.
A direct hit.
The F-22 exploded, engulfed in flames as its shattered fuselage spiraled toward the ocean.
AWACS Zaytun Joins the Battle
A new voice cut through the airwaves.
"Furina! Nice to see you're still kicking ass! That's a splash!"
Furina banked hard right, chuckling.
"Nice to hear from you too, Zaytun! Let's get to work!"
Zaytun's reply was instant.
"Let's!"
The Sky Burns
Beneath them, the war for the Teyvat Orbital Elevator raged on.
A symphony of missiles, afterburners, and destruction.
Pilots from every nation of Teyvat fought side by side, uniting against a common enemy—
The rebellion.
The war.
And the Sepharis Bird: Celestia.
A warning pinged on Furina's radar.
Celestia was moving.
The final act had begun.
And the sky was burning.
Jean & Amber's Aerial Duel – The Relentless Hunter Becomes the Hunted
Deep in the war-torn sky, an enemy Su-30 relentlessly pursued Jean and Amber's F-14B Tomcat, clinging to their six like a phantom of death.
Every hard turn, every desperate dive—no matter what Jean tried—the Su-30 stayed locked on, pressing them into an unforgiving chase through the chaotic airspace.
Amber's voice was taut with urgency.
"Jean, this guy won't let up!"
Jean's grip tightened on the control stick, her knuckles white.
"Hang on, Amber!"
Her left hand shot forward, grabbing the wing sweep lever.
With a forceful shove, she pushed it all the way forward.
The Tomcat's variable-sweep wings snapped into their full forward position, maximizing lift for brutal, close-quarters maneuvering. Then—she yanked the stick back. Hard.
The F-14B rocketed skyward in a violent vertical climb, afterburners screaming as it tore into the upper atmosphere.
The enemy Su-30 tried to follow—tried to match the Tomcat's sheer brute force.
But it was a mistake.
Jean's maneuver bled the enemy's energy. The Su-30 floundered, struggling to keep up. It stalled.
Jean's moment had come.
She jammed the stick forward, inverting the jet into a steep dive—sending both pilots into near-weightlessness.
Amber's scream filled the cockpit.
"HOLY SHIT!"
The enemy Su-30 now sat dead center in Jean's HUD targeting reticle.
Lock tone.
Jean's thumb hovered over the missile trigger.
A heartbeat.
A decision.
Then—
"Fox Two!"
A Sidewinder missile streaked from the wing, a trail of white-hot exhaust splitting the sky.
The Su-30 rolled left, trying to evade—too late.
Impact.
A devastating explosion ripped through the Su-30's fuselage, tearing it apart midair. Flaming debris spiraled toward the ocean below.
Amber punched the air.
"HELL YEAH! SPLASH ONE!"
Jean exhaled, her heart hammering in her chest.
"We're not done yet. Let's keep pushing!"
The Tomcat dove back into the fray.
Collei's Hunt – A Rookie Becomes a Predator
Elsewhere in the chaos, Collei's Rafale M was locked in combat with an enemy F/A-18 Hornet.
The Hornet pilot was desperate—juking hard left and right, throwing their airframe into wild evasive maneuvers.
But Collei was patient.
She didn't waste missiles.
She didn't panic.
She studied the enemy.
Watched.
Waited.
Then—the Hornet made a fatal mistake.
It pulled into a steep vertical climb.
Too steep.
Too slow.
It stalled.
Collei's eyes flicked over her targeting display.
"Got you now."
Lock tone.
Her thumb pressed down firmly.
"Fox Two!"
A Sidewinder missile streaked from her wing, spiraling toward the helpless Hornet.
Collei rolled hard right, diving away to avoid potential counterfire.
Then—
Impact.
The F/A-18 erupted into a fireball, its shattered remains tumbling through the sky like dying embers.
Collei took a deep breath, steadying herself.
Her first real air duel.
Her first confirmed kill.
But there was no time to celebrate.
The battle was far from over.
Mission Objective – A Voice from the Past
The radio crackled to life.
Then—a familiar voice.
Albedo.
Furina's breath hitched.
His voice was calm, but urgent.
"To all allied aircraft. We have a mission to accomplish. So listen carefully."
The war paused for no one, but his words carried weight.
"First—destroy the Orbital Elevator's communication link with Celestia. Cutting off its command structure is the first step to bringing it down."
"Second—disable the power grid. This will halt the production of autonomous drones and prevent further escalation of this war."
A pause.
Then, Albedo's voice grew graver.
"And finally—bring this war to an end. Anarchy has spread. This conflict is pointless."
His next words sent a shockwave through every pilot listening.
"The Orbital Elevator is being occupied by survivors from Zephyr's Island—refugees who have lost their homes."
Silence.
Then—
"So I ask all of you—take air superiority!"
Furina clenched her fist.
Her voice was sharp, filled with unbreakable resolve.
"You heard him! Let's bring an end to this madness!"
The radio erupted with acknowledgments.
The entire Coalition Air Force was now committed to ending this once and for all.
Arlecchino's Encounter – A Ghost of the Past
To the north, Arlecchino's Su-57 Felon was locked onto an enemy F-15C Eagle.
She sighed, her grip firm but relaxed.
"My old plane… How ironic."
Her former steed—now flown by a traitor.
She shook her head.
"Doesn't matter. You're a rebel now."
The F-15C clawed for altitude, a desperate climb.
But Arlecchino knew this game.
She had flown the exact F-15C herself.
It was too fast, too heavy—built for intercepting bombers, not for outmaneuvering an Su-57.
It would never escape.
Lock tone.
Arlecchino's voice was flat, almost bored.
"Fox Two."
Two missiles streaked from her internal bomb bay, burning toward the helpless F-15C.
A direct hit.
The Eagle disintegrated midair, its debris falling like dying stars.
Arlecchino banked hard right, scanning for her next target.
She exhaled.
"This ends today."
The Kill Count Rises—The Skies Belong to Them
The war-torn sky had become an arena of death.
Burning jet fuel, acrid smoke, and the metallic stench of destruction choked out the last remnants of daylight.
Missiles screamed through the heavens, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Explosions rippled across the battlefield, sending torn fuselages spiraling into the abyss.
Every second saw another enemy obliterated, another hostile fighter erased from existence.
The battle had begun with over 80 enemy aircraft.
Now, only 20 remained.
The end was near.
And yet, the dogfights raged on, each pilot locked in a lethal waltz—a final, deadly symphony of war.
Furina's Legacy Written in Fire
Two high-speed resupplies along Liyue's coast had kept Furina in the fight.
Her kill count for this engagement alone had soared to 56 aerial victories.
Her total confirmed kills? 364.
And still rising.
The Golden Crown of Teyvat was now more than a legend—she was a force of nature, her name carved into history with every fighter she sent plummeting in flames.
Arlecchino—The Predator of the Skies
The Knave of the battlefield had amassed 40 confirmed kills, her ruthless precision carving a path of destruction.
With three resupplies, she hunted with lethal efficiency, her Su-57 carving through the skies like a predator unleashed.
Wherever she struck, enemy fighters vanished in fire and steel.
She wasn't just feared.
She was unstoppable.
Jean and Amber—The Duo That Wouldn't Die
Flying their battle-scarred F-14B Tomcat, Jean and Amber had racked up 32 kills—pushing their twin-engine beast past its limits.
They had resupplied four times, keeping their war machine roaring through the storm.
They fought like ghosts in the night—by the time the enemy saw them, it was already too late.
Clorinde—The Silent Death
Every shot. Every missile. Every maneuver—executed with flawless precision.
Her 26 confirmed kills had all been clean, merciless eliminations.
No second chances.
No escape.
The Underdogs Turned Legends
Wriothesley—18 kills. A relentless force in the chaos.
Ei & Ningguang—15 kills each. Unstoppable warriors in their own right.
Collei—23 kills. The phantom of the battlefield.
Mavuika—13 kills. Once new to war, now standing among Teyvat's deadliest aces.
The skies were now theirs.
The war was theirs to win.
The Sky Fears Her Name
Enemy radio chatter was breaking down.
Panic.
Desperation.
"Wait… Gold Crown is on our side!? That's the best news I've heard in a long time!"
"Against Gold Crown? Uh-uh, NEVER AGAIN!"
Furina smirked.
But she had no time to enjoy it.
A Su-37 Flanker-F banked hard, trying to shake its pursuers.
Her instincts screamed—this one was different.
Her eyes narrowed.
She snapped her Rafale's nose onto the target.
TONE. LOCK.
Her finger hovered over the trigger—
Then—
The Su-37 pitched straight up.
Cobra Maneuver.
Its nose snapped to an impossible angle, bleeding speed in an instant.
"Shit—!"
Furina had overshot.
Forced into reaction.
Her hands moved with inhuman speed.
Throttle to idle.
Stick yanked back, HARD.
Her Rafale pitched back into a Cobra of its own.
Two could play this game.
The Su-37 miscalculated.
It overshot—right into her crosshairs.
TONE. LOCK.
Her voice was ice.
"Fox Three."
Two HCAA missiles burst from her wings.
The Su-37 banked right—
Big mistake.
Both missiles found their mark, shredding the Flanker apart in a cataclysmic explosion.
Flaming wreckage spiraled toward the ocean, vanishing into the abyss below.
Furina exhaled.
One step closer.
She looked up.
The Sepharis Bird still loomed above.
And she wasn't finished yet.
The Mission Takes Shape—The Orbital Elevator Must Fall
The radio crackled, followed by a familiar voice—smooth, amused, and laced with that unmistakable arrogance.
AWACS Justice.
"What do you know? A former penal member turned ace. Nice to see you again, Furina."
Furina scoffed, rolling her eyes even as she adjusted her Rafale's throttle.
"Justice. Never in a million years did I think I'd hear that from you."
Justice chuckled.
"Well, the penal unit is no more. So this is the new me."
Then—
Another voice cut in. Calm. Analytical.
Albedo.
The air shifted.
Furina's fingers tensed around the stick.
"The Teyvat Orbital Elevator is more than just a launch facility—it's also the world's tallest communications tower."
A pause.
"See those cables running up past the horizon? Those are integrated communications lines, extending into low orbit."
Furina's eyes flicked toward the towering structure.
"Its radio waves cover the entirety of Teyvat… and half the globe."
The weight of his words sank in.
Then—Eula's voice, sharp and focused.
"So that's how you got the message to us back at Dymny Kordon Air Force Base."
Albedo confirmed, his tone unwavering.
"Correct. This broadcast can now be transmitted to all of Teyvat."
Then—
A new voice.
The distant slam of a door.
A metallic clunk.
A security lock engaging.
A bang.
Then—
The Tsaritsa's voice.
"We need to break in! This is the server room!"
Furina's breath hitched.
"Is that the Tsaritsa!?"
Albedo's voice returned, urgent now.
"Try breaking in now! Lune! Get the refugees underground, NOW!"
A sharp response.
"On it!"
The Final Enemies—The Countdown Begins
The enemy count dwindled—down to five.
AWACS Visionaire's voice came through, steady but urgent.
"The Sepharis Bird is inbound! It's launching projectiles!"
The last airborne fortress was making its move.
AWACS Justice's voice layered in.
"They're Bezglubok projectiles! Blast radius estimates are being marked on your radars!"
A warning—too late.
Ei skimmed just meters above the ocean, the salt spray trailing behind her as she locked onto a target.
TONE. LOCK.
"Fox Two!"
Twin AIM-9 Sidewinders streaked forward, their smoke trails slicing through the chaos.
The Su-30 juked left—
Too late.
Both missiles detonated, ripping the fighter apart. The wreckage plunged into the dark ocean below, swallowed whole.
Then—
A massive blue explosion erupted in the sky.
Ei's F-15E Strike Eagle shuddered violently.
"HOLY SHIT! What the fuck was that!?"
Mavuika's voice cut through the comms, sharp and alarmed.
"Justice! More incoming!?"
"Yes. Proceed with extreme caution!"
Another hostile.
An F-16, its afterburner flaring as it twisted violently, dumping flares and chaff.
TONE. LOCK.
"Fox Two!"
The Sidewinders screamed toward the target.
Direct hit.
The Viper vanished in a fiery explosion.
The Final Minutes—Brace for Impact
Radar warnings blared.
Red markers flared to life.
"Five seconds!"
"Four!"
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"
Then—
A cataclysmic explosion ripped through the sky.
Furina's breath steadied.
Her eyes locked onto the final hostiles.
Three left.
The last three enemies were hers.
TONE. LOCK.
Her voice was ice.
"Fox Three!"
Three HCAA missiles launched in perfect unison, their white-hot exhaust trails burning across the heavens.
Three direct hits.
Three final eruptions of fire.
The sky belonged to Teyvat.
And the Sepharis Bird awaited its executioner.
ZERO HOUR
Right on cue, HQ crackled through the radio.
"We have reached Zero Hour!"
Furina's pulse pounded in sync with the roar of her Rafale's twin engines.
Then, she saw it.
The Sepharis Bird – Celestia.
A monstrous airborne fortress, a fusion of cutting-edge technology and apocalyptic destruction. Its immense structure loomed over the battlefield, blotting out the sun like an omen of doom. The sky itself seemed to recoil from its presence, the sheer scale of its silhouette casting a shadow over the war-torn seas below.
The radio erupted with orders.
"Everyone, prepare for the Unison Attack!"
This was it. Their one shot at breaking through.
The countdown began.
"Five."
Every aircraft locked onto Celestia. Targeting systems flickered to life, HUDs filled with targeting brackets.
"Four."
Engines thundered. Pilots braced for the order, hands tense over their weapons' triggers.
"Three."
A collective inhale. Eyes locked onto the behemoth ahead.
"Two."
Sweat. Adrenaline. Every muscle coiled.
"One."
"FIRE!"
The sky erupted in a hellstorm of destruction.
From the horizon, the entire Teyvat naval fleet unleashed a synchronized volley of long-range missiles. Hundreds of warheads streaked through the air, contrails weaving a deadly tapestry of fire and fury.
Above, the Teyvat Strategic Strike Group joined the assault, their jets screaming forward like avenging specters. HCAA missiles, LRAAMs, and heavy ordnance rained down in a relentless surge.
It was a perfect strike.
Then—
A deep, mechanical whine.
The Sepharis Bird stirred.
The massive energy ring above its hull flared to life, pulsating with an ominous crimson glow.
Then—it expanded.
A blinding wall of blue energy detonated outward.
Impact.
Explosions rippled harmlessly across the shield's surface, fire and smoke billowing into the sky—but Celestia remained untouched.
"SHIT! IT DID NOTHING!" HQ's voice cracked with panic. "OUR MISSILES DIDN'T EVEN REACH THE TARGET!"
Then—
AWACS Zaytun cut in. "Bogeys incoming! I'm seeing multiple hostiles on radar!"
Furina's eyes darkened. "All aircraft, they're deploying MQ-101 drones! Keep those things away from Celestia!"
A chorus of voices responded instantly.
"Roger!"
"Wilco!"
"Affirmative!"
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
This was war.
Furina's grip tightened around the stick. Time for a new plan.
"Waltz and Primordial Squadrons, straight for Celestia! I'll take out the main propellers! You hit the sub-propellers and anti-aircraft weapons!"
Jean responded instantly. "Wilco! Engaging!"
Engines screamed as the squadrons surged toward the titanic war machine.
Missiles streaked. Tracers carved through the sky. The first assault wave hammered Celestia's defenses, sending plumes of fire and debris cascading into the open air.
Then—
Furina dove in from above.
"Avoid the crossfire! Spread out!"
The squadrons scattered, weaving through the chaos of flak and laser fire.
Her targeting reticle locked onto the right main propeller.
TONE.
LOCK.
"Fox Three!"
Two HCAA missiles streaked forward.
Direct hit.
The right propeller stalled. Celestia lurched, unbalanced.
Below, the naval battle descended into chaos.
"We're listing! Deploy the lifeboats!"
"ABANDON SHIP! ABANDON SHIP!"
"We've taken major damage! We have to evac!"
AWACS Zaytun cut through the comms. "HQ, our naval fleet is being decimated!"
Wriothesley cursed. "That firepower is INSANE! We—SHIT!—I didn't see that one coming!"
Furina's eyes snapped to the left propeller.
TONE.
LOCK.
"Fox Three!"
Another pair of HCAA missiles tore through the sky.
Direct hit.
Celestia tilted violently, its flight path disrupted.
Then—
The right propeller reactivated.
Furina's eye twitched.
"What the fuck!? That thing REPAIRED ITSELF!?"
Then—
A familiar whirring sound.
Her blood turned to ice.
She looked up.
The energy ring was glowing red again.
"BREAK AWAY! APS IS REACTIVATING!"
She yanked the stick back, pulling into a vertical climb at full throttle.
The squadron followed—
A second later—
The shield detonated outward.
A shockwave pulsed through the sky.
They dodged it—barely.
Furina let out a shaky breath. "Shit, that was too close! Everyone still here!?"
Jean and Amber checked in. "Primordial Squadron all here!"
Collei echoed, "Waltz Squadron complete!"
Furina exhaled sharply. "That shield has to go. Now."
Then—
A voice crackled through the radio.
"I found it!"
Furina's eyes widened. "Tsaritsa!?"
A deafening BANG echoed through the comms.
Albedo's voice—sharp, urgent. "SMASH IT!"
Then—
Celestia unleashed hell.
Laser cannons screamed to life.
The ground forces disappeared.
Explosions erased entire platoons.
HQ's voice shook with panic. "All aircraft! We can't commence the second operation anymore!"
Furina snarled. "No shit!"
Then—Arlecchino.
"Furina! Aim for the Orbital Driver Hooks! It'll expose the core!"
Furina's pulse spiked. "Wilco, Arlecchino! Just waiting for the APS to drop!"
Then—
BANG.
Furina held her breath.
Another BANG.
Collei clenched her fists. "Go away."
BANG.
Eula growled. "DISAPPEAR!"
Then—
A final, thunderous explosion.
And just like that—
The Sepharis Bird's shield collapsed.
The APS was dead.
For the first time, the monstrosity was vulnerable.
Furina's voice was calm. Cold.
"It's time."
The final battle had begun.
A crackling wave of energy fizzled out, leaving the Sepharis Bird exposed.
Furina punched the air.
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"
Her voice rang out through the comms, raw with adrenaline and triumph.
"EVERYONE, ENGAGE!"
Then—
Arlecchino's voice cut through the radio.
"The MQ-101 drones are dropping! They're falling out of the skies!"
Furina's IFF display flickered.
New targets acquired.
The Orbital Hinges locked.
Before she could react, Jean and Amber's F-14 Tomcat swooped in like a pair of hunting falcons.
Twin Sidewinders launched.
Impact.
A brilliant explosion erupted beneath the Sepharis Bird's underbelly, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.
Amber's voice crackled through the radio.
"Laser destroyed! Go get 'em, Furina!"
Furina wasted no time.
She banked hard left, pulling into an attack vector. The left Orbital Driver Hook loomed ahead, a massive structure tethering the beast together.
Tone.
Lock.
"Fox Three!"
Two HCAA missiles streaked away, their vapor trails cutting through the sky.
Direct hit.
Secondary explosions tore through the left side, rupturing the sub-main propellers. Jagged fragments spiraled downward, flames licking at the wreckage.
Then—
The right main propeller stalled again.
The Sepharis Bird lurched, unable to counteract the sheer loss of thrust.
It was crippled.
Its left-side defenses lay in ruin.
Furina rolled right, switching to the second hook.
Tone.
Lock.
"Fox Three!"
Two more missiles roared forward.
Direct hit.
The Orbital Driver shuddered, barely clinging on.
She shifted targets.
Left hook.
"Fox Three!"
Impact.
Right hook.
"Fox Three!"
A brilliant detonation ripped through the final tether.
The Orbital Driver snapped free, shearing away from the Sepharis Bird.
The Core lay bare.
Furina's breathing steadied.
This is it.
She pushed the nose down, diving toward the ocean.
The waves surged upward, a foaming abyss threatening to consume her.
At the last second, she yanked the stick back—her wingtips slicing through the water's surface, leaving a shimmering trail in her wake.
She glanced up.
The Core loomed overhead, completely unprotected.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second.
"Don't think, Furina... just do."
Her eyes snapped open.
Throttle—FULL AFTERBURNER.
The Rafale's engines shrieked, flames bursting from the exhaust nozzles as she rocketed skyward.
Jean's voice crackled through the radio, urgent.
"Furina, you're gonna hit the Core!"
Furina's grip tightened around the stick.
"Come on..."
The Core expanded in her vision.
Clorinde's voice broke through the comms.
"Furina, pull out! You're too close!"
Her HUD blared warnings—collision imminent.
She didn't care.
"Give me tone. Give me tone!"
Almost there.
"COME ON!!!"
Then, Collei screamed—
"FURINA!!!"
Then—
A Tone.
A Lock.
"FOX THREE!!!"
Two HCAA missiles detached.
A breathless second.
Impact.
The Core detonated.
A titanic explosion tore the sky apart, a swirling inferno of raw energy and destruction.
The radio erupted—
"Whoa!"
"Holy shit!"
"What the hell was that!?"
Then—silence.
From the heart of the firestorm, a streak of blue emerged.
Furina's Rafale.
Soaring through the wreckage.
Vertical climb.
Unscathed.
The comms exploded with cheers.
"ALRIGHT, FURINA!"
"THAT'S TEYVAT'S ACE RIGHT THERE!"
"THE BIRD IS GOING DOWN!"
Furina leveled off, her jet sliding back into formation.
Together, they watched as the Sepharis Bird burned.
Flames crawled across its colossal frame, smoke trailing in thick black plumes.
A crippled titan, doomed to the abyss.
Eula's voice was calm, almost reflective.
"Even in death… that damn bird is still menacing."
Lyney's voice cracked slightly.
"Furina... you did it."
Lynette followed, quieter.
"The Sepharis Birds... they're no more."
Furina keyed her radio.
Her voice—steady, powerful.
"Everyone! Do you see this!? This is what happens when we set our differences aside. When we trust one another!"
"THIS is the result!"
"A joint operation that will put an end to war itself!"
Her words echoed through the frequency.
"The world won't change for the better… unless we trust one another."
Then—
A thunderous crash.
The Sepharis Bird struck the ocean.
A massive column of water erupted skyward, a final death cry before the sea consumed its burning remains.
Debris scattered across the surface, a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered ambition.
Then—
Silence.
Only the waves remained.
The radio crackled.
"All Snezhnayan rebel soldiers! Surrender now, and we won't attack!"
A pause.
Then—
A broken voice.
"We're surrendering."
"It's not worth continuing this..."
At the Orbital Elevator, the doors slid open.
Albedo and Tsaritsa stepped forward, gazing out of an open window.
The sky stretched before them.
Clear.
The skies were not clear for long.
Albedo's eyes widened as two unknown aircraft cut through the clouds, their movements unnatural—too smooth, too precise.
A cold dread twisted in his gut.
His voice dropped to a grim whisper.
"Is that… the drones we saw at the factory!?"
Then—
AWACS Zaytun's voice crackled through the comms, sharp with urgency.
"ALERT! Two fast-moving bogeys—closing in FAST!"
Then—
Arlecchino.
Her voice was like a blade—sharp, urgent, deadly serious.
"EVERYONE, RETREAT! THEY'RE ADFX-11 DRONES!"
The radio erupted into chaos.
Wriothesley's voice—strained, panicked.
"Shit! I'm being chased!"
His twin engines roared as he yanked into a vertical climb, trying to shake them.
His breath ragged, sweat beading beneath his helmet.
"These guys are BAD NEWS! Furina, do something!"
Furina gritted her teeth, eyes locked on the incoming drones.
She yanked her stick, pulling hard—
Trying to get a tone. A lock.
Nothing.
"I'm trying, but I can't get a lock!"
The drones moved like ghosts, twisting unnaturally, slipping through every attempt to pin them down.
Then—
Fire.
Twin missiles streaked toward Wriothesley.
Furina snapped her jet around, heart hammering.
"Shit! One of them might be turning for me!"
Wriothesley pulled his countermeasures.
Flares burst behind him, igniting in his wake.
Then—
He inverted his plane, diving hard.
For a second, it seemed like he had shaken them.
But it was too late.
Tone. Lock. Impact.
A missile connected.
The explosion rattled his aircraft, shockwaves shuddering through the airframe.
His voice cracked over the comms.
"Shit! I'm hit!"
Furina's breath hitched.
She could see his wing smoking.
"Wriothesley, RETREAT! I'll be by your wing!"
She snapped back onto the radio.
"EVERYONE, RETREAT! NOW! It's too risky!"
Then—AWACS Zaytun's voice cut through the chaos.
"There's a Fontainian carrier a few kilometers west! It ran aground—it's abandoned, but it's the only safe place we got!"
Furina gritted her teeth, gripping her stick.
They had no choice.
She formed up beside Wriothesley, his jet struggling to hold altitude.
Then—
Her squadron appeared beside her.
Primordial Squadron.
The rest of Waltz Squadron.
Nocturne Squadron.
Hearth Squadron.
They fled westward, cutting through the night sky.
Behind them—
Explosions.
A furious dogfight.
The ADFX-11 drones twisted through the air, dodging missile locks like phantoms.
Their movements—flawless. Inhuman.
Because their AI had been installed with Arlecchino's flight data.
The enemy had perfected the art of aerial combat.
And now—
They were the prey.
30 Minutes Later…
The carrier was safe.
Everyone had made it back in one piece.
Except Furina.
She remained in the air, circling above the stranded carrier like a phantom guardian, her keen eyes scanning the dark horizon for any trace of movement. The ADFX-11 drones had disappeared as quickly as they had arrived, but that only unsettled her more.
Would they strike again?
Would they wait?
Would they adapt?
She didn't know. But she would be ready.
Finally, after ensuring their temporary refuge was secure, she lined up for landing.
Gear down. Hook deployed.
Wriothesley's voice crackled through the radio, steady but concerned.
"Furina, I managed to land. I'll guide you in."
She didn't answer. She was already locked in.
Glidepath perfect.
Approach speed steady.
AoA indicator stable.
Her Rafale M descended toward the dimly lit deck. The carrier's arresting wires stretched before her like lifelines in the night.
Throttle idle—flare—spoilerons deployed.
Touchdown.
Her main landing gear slammed onto the deck, and a fraction of a second later—the tailhook snagged the third wire.
A brutal jolt.
The Rafale shuddered, her helmet snapping forward before the harness caught her. The jet screeched to a halt.
Wriothesley let out a breath over the comms.
"Perfect landing, Furina!"
She exhaled, only now realizing how tight her grip had been on the stick.
But they weren't safe yet. Not truly.
She retracted the hook, taxied toward the carrier's elevator, parked the jet, and powered down.
For now—just for now—they had a moment of reprieve.
The Mess Hall
The mess hall buzzed with life.
Laughter. Handshakes. Shared cigarettes. Stolen moments of warmth.
For the first time in what felt like years, there was no fighting. No scrambling for survival. No tension choking the air.
Just camaraderie.
At the center of it all—Primordial, Waltz, and Hearth Squadrons sat together.
And there—Nocturne Squadron.
Furina's first squadron. The ones she had started this war with.
Then—
The door swung open.
A wave of silence followed. Heads turned.
Then—
A familiar grin.
Lyney stepped forward, arms wide, mischief in his eyes.
"There she is. Teyvat's Ace!"
Furina smirked, shaking her head as she strode toward him—and pulled him into a tight hug.
"It's been too long, Lyney."
He chuckled, stepping back slightly.
"Never better. And look at you! Name cleared, back with your old squadron, and now a Captain!"
Then—
Lynette.
Furina turned, embracing her next.
"Lynette… it's good to see you again."
Lynette's smile was small but sincere.
"You kept your promise. You said we'd see each other again in better times."
She stepped back, looking Furina over with quiet pride.
"And here you are—Captain Furina."
Furina let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.
"Damn right."
But the moment didn't last.
The Briefing
Arlecchino stepped forward.
Immediately, the room fell into silence.
Her expression was serious. Focused. Unforgiving.
"Alright. Let's get down to business."
She crossed her arms, her eyes scanning every pilot in the room.
"Those two drones? ADFX-11s. Unmanned, highly advanced, and as I told you all before…"
She exhaled sharply.
"They use my flight data."
A heavy silence.
Then—
Wriothesley muttered under his breath.
"That means… they'll be a nightmare to take down."
Some pilots shifted in their seats. Others stared at the floor, processing what that truly meant.
Arlecchino's voice remained firm.
"And even if we DO take one down, we have a bigger problem."
She let the weight of that statement settle.
Then, she continued.
"They have a secondary body."
Murmurs. Tension. Confusion.
She didn't let it fester.
"That second body will pretend to be 'prey.' It'll make you think you've got it pinned. That you're the hunter. But it's a trap."
Her eyes darkened.
"It studies you. Learns your flying style. Every movement, every trick, every split-second decision."
She let the silence hang for a moment longer. Then—
"The moment you think you have the upper hand, it uploads everything you did to the next batch of drones."
The realization hit like a missile.
They weren't just fighting machines.
They were fighting themselves.
Mavuika's voice was quiet.
"So now what?"
Arlecchino shook her head.
"For now? We breathe. We rest. Because we're gonna need every ounce of energy for what's coming next."
Then—
Furina stood.
Her voice was steady. Firm. Resolute.
"We attack tomorrow."
The room went still.
No hesitation. No doubt.
She scanned every pilot's face.
"Use this time to rest."
Her grip tightened into a fist.
"Tomorrow—we finish this."
"Once and for all."
The Final Battle Looms
The Sepharis Birds were gone.
The enemy was desperate.
And now—
Two experimental drones—perfected through Arlecchino's combat data—guarded the Space Elevator.
Can they be taken down?
And for Furina…
Can she destroy them before they learn her flying style?
Because if she fails—
Her combat data could be uploaded.
And then—
Teyvat's Ace would become the enemy's deadliest weapon.