First Start. First Movement.

The Following Week – After a Deserved Break

The soft morning light bathed Elynas Air Force Base in a wash of gold and crimson as the sun slowly crested over the horizon. The sky was still waking, streaked with the lingering traces of dawn, while the first sounds of a new day stirred in the distance—faint jet engines warming up, the occasional chatter of ground crews, and the rhythmic hum of service vehicles making their rounds.

Standing on the balcony of her apartment, Grace Howard wrapped her fingers around a steaming cup of coffee, letting the warmth seep through her skin. The crisp morning air carried the familiar scent of jet fuel and the salty breeze rolling in from the coast, blending into something oddly comforting.

She took a slow sip, her gaze drifting over the vast stretch of hangars, runways, and aircraft shelters scattered across the base.

A week of rest had done her good, but her mind had never truly left the project—the one thing that consumed her thoughts.

"Can't believe how much we've done in just seven months..."

She muttered the words to herself, watching the steam curl into the cool air.

They had done the impossible.

The Dassault Rafale M—Furina's personal war machine—had been pulled back from the brink of death, rebuilt piece by piece, restored to its former glory. A legend reborn. A fighter that had carved its name into history, now on the verge of taking to the skies once more.

But reality came knocking, as it always did.

She frowned slightly, exhaling through her nose.

"Just because the plane is running... doesn't mean we can just launch it into the air."

The thought lingered as she swirled her coffee absentmindedly, watching the ripples dance across the surface.

"It still needs to be certified. Cleared for flight. No shortcuts. No exceptions."

And then there was the event.

The anniversary flight wouldn't take place here at Elynas. The Rafale needed to be flown hundreds of kilometers away—to Charybdis Air Force Base.

Her brow furrowed. "Has Himeko already sorted that out?"

She shook her head, answering her own question almost immediately. "Of course she has. Someone must've been assigned to fly it."

But who?

Her grip on the mug tightened slightly.

Pilots who could handle an experimental Rafale were rare. Pilots who could endure the kind of punishment Furina had put this jet through? Even rarer.

It couldn't just be anyone.

She sighed, pushing the thought aside. It wasn't her call to make.

Draining the last of her coffee, she turned on her heel and walked back inside.

It was time to get back to work.

An Hour Later – Dassault Final Assembly Line

The hangar doors slid open with a soft mechanical hum, revealing the pristine form of Furina's Rafale M.

Grace stepped inside, and the familiar scent of jet fuel, fresh metal, and newly installed wiring filled her nose. It was the smell of restoration.

Seven months ago, this jet had been little more than a broken relic, left to rot in an abandoned hangar.

Now?

Now it stood in the Dassault Final Assembly Line, surrounded by the rhythmic symphony of a factory in motion.

Its paint? Original. Untouched. Preserved.

The deep blue, sky blue, white, and black livery shimmered beneath the hangar lights, reflecting off the polished metal like a freshly-cut diamond.

And beneath the canopy, in bold, defiant lettering:

Élégante et Efficace.

A name that had once struck fear into enemy pilots. A name that had danced across battlefields with ruthless efficiency.

Her eyes trailed up the vertical stabilizer, where the golden emblem of a crown over flowing water stood untouched by time. Proud. Commanding.

This was no ordinary fighter.

This was history.

And yet—

The engines were missing.

A Factory's Symphony

Behind her, the roar of industry carried on.

Across the vast assembly line, dozens of Rafales were being built from the ground up—both land and naval variants, each destined for a different future.

The clanking of metal, the hiss of hydraulic tools, the synchronized movements of engineers—it was a well-rehearsed orchestra of efficiency.

And yet, none of the fighters in production held the same weight as the one before her.

For a moment, Grace simply stood there.

Alone.

Taking in the silence around the aircraft.

Letting herself feel the presence of what this machine had once been.

She walked forward, slowly, hands in her pockets, speaking softly to herself.

"Captain Furina de Fontaine's plane... One Dassault Rafale M."

Her eyes traced its lines.

"An experimental prototype... that ended up in an ace's hands."

A slow step forward.

"Flown in one war..."

Another step.

"Over 400 confirmed kills."

The words carried weight. Each one a life. Each one a victory.

"Took down two Sepharis Birds."

A deep breath.

"Destroyed countless enemy jets… and drones."

Her fingers brushed against the cold metal of the nose section.

"And shot down the Knave… Arlecchino herself."

A pause.

That battle.

A moment etched into history. A duel of aces—one that ended in a single decisive kill.

And yet—

This plane's greatest battle had not been against another fighter.

No. Its true final mission had been something far greater.

"And the jet that stopped her flying style from being leaked by an ADFX-11 drone."

She stopped walking.

Standing at the nose of the aircraft.

Staring at it.

Really staring at it.

For a moment, it felt as if the Rafale was staring back.

A relic of war. A silent witness to history.

And now, a phoenix rising from the ashes.

"And fifteen years later… you still exist."

She let out a slow breath.

"For five years, you sat in a museum. People admired you. Looked at you like a trophy.

"And for ten years after that… you sat in a hangar. Here. Forgotten."

Her voice softened.

"Abandoned."

The word hung in the air.

A fighter that had once ruled the skies, now waiting.

Waiting to be awakened once more.

Right on Cue

The rhythmic sounds of the assembly line carried on—the hum of tools, the distant chatter of engineers, the occasional metallic clang of components being locked into place.

But at the center of it all stood something far more significant.

Furina's Dassault Rafale M.

A legend. A war machine. A ghost of the past, now fully restored.

And today?

Today was the day it would receive its heart.

The Final Step – Installing the Engines

Grace stood with her arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched Himeko, Aether, Lumine, Ayato, Gepard, Serval, and Asta enter the hangar.

She already knew what time it was.

It was time to install the two Snecma M88 engines.

The final step before the Rafale could become whole again.

Himeko stopped beside Grace, casting her a knowing glance.

"Looks like you had the plane to yourself for a bit, huh?"

Grace nodded, her eyes never leaving the aircraft.

"Just… admiring it. It's not every day you get up close and personal with Furina's Rafale."

Himeko chuckled. "No kidding."

For a brief moment, they stood there—two veterans, two witnesses to history—watching the machine that had shaped an entire era.

But one question still lingered in Grace's mind.

She turned her head slightly. "Say… who's flying the plane to Charybdis Air Force Base?"

Himeko smirked, placing a hand on her hip.

"You'll see soon."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Right."

She hated surprises.

But for now—they had work to do.

She rolled her shoulders and stepped forward. "Alright, let's get these engines installed."

Mounting the First Engine

Grace and Himeko walked toward the rear of the Rafale, where Ayato and Gepard were already maneuvering the engine cart beneath the right-side engine bay.

Above them, the hoist system was prepped and ready—thick chains hanging from the rafters, attached to a precision-guided lift mechanism. The system would ensure millimeter-perfect alignment.

Gepard gave the signal. "Raising it up."

The chain tightened, slowly hoisting the M88 engine toward its mounting point.

Aether climbed onto the wing, positioning himself directly above the bay. As the engine slid into place, he grabbed a power tool and began securing the essential mounting bolts. Each one was torqued down, locking the engine firmly to the airframe.

Gepard disconnected the hoist, letting the full weight of the engine rest where it belonged.

Locked in.

Lumine clenched a fist, rocking it slightly. "Let's go! One down!"

Grace smirked. "Still one more to go."

Without missing a beat, Gepard repositioned the hoist over the left-side engine cart. The second M88 was already lined up beneath the bay.

As before, Aether secured the hoist's mounting points before giving the go-ahead. Slowly, the engine lifted.

Ayato stood nearby, closely monitoring the fuel, hydraulic, and oil connections.

Gepard made small, precise adjustments—each movement bringing the engine closer to perfect alignment.

Aether climbed onto the left wing, moving into position.

Once the engine was set, he moved in, repeating the process—torquing down the mounting bolts and locking them in place.

The hoist was detached.

Both engines were now installed.

Final Inspections

Grace rolled up her sleeves and stepped forward. This was too important to leave unchecked.

Grabbing a flashlight, she leaned in, running her hands along the fuel lines, hydraulic connections, and mounting bolts. No room for mistakes. Everything had to be perfect.

She nodded. "Everything looks good on the right side."

Lumine crouched near the left engine, double-checking the seals and connections. She glanced up. "Same here."

Grace stepped back. "Alright. Let's get the lower cowlings installed."

Lumine nodded. "On it."

Working in pairs, Lumine and Aether took the left-side cowling while Grace and Ayato handled the right. Carefully, they aligned the panels, ensuring a perfect fit against the fuselage.

One by one, the bolts were installed, tightened, and locked into place.

Grace removed the engine outlet covers herself, setting them aside.

She exhaled, crossing her arms.

It was done.

Himeko clapped her hands. "Well done, fellas. You all did great."

Grace chuckled. "She might be whole again, but she's not airworthy yet."

Lumine nodded. "She's right. Just because it's ready to fly doesn't mean it's legal to fly."

She turned toward the aircraft. "And we still have to test the engines."

Himeko gave a knowing nod. "I know. Let's get these engines running."

Aether raised an eyebrow. "Uh… how exactly? The run-up facility's already booked for the other Rafales in production."

Himeko smirked. "We take it outside."

Asta furrowed her brow. "But won't we be spotted? Plane spotters are always hanging around the fences."

Himeko shook her head. "No. We're taking it to an isolated part of the airbase. No peeping toms."

Grace exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck.

This was it.

The Rafale was whole again.

Now?

It was time to bring it back to life.

Bringing the Rafale to Life

The low rumble of an approaching vehicle broke the silence of the hangar.

A tug rolled in, reversing toward the Rafale's nose gear with practiced precision.

Gepard smirked, arms crossed. "Looks like it's happening now."

The towbar was secured, locking the Rafale in place. With a final check, the driver engaged the brakes—then began towing the aircraft forward.

For the first time in years, Furina's Rafale M saw daylight again.

Sunlight gleamed off its Élégante et Efficace livery—untouched since the war. The deep blues, whites, and blacks shimmered in the morning light, the golden emblem on the tail standing proud.

Across the airbase, ground crews paused. Heads turned.

Whispers followed.

Rumors had spread about its restoration, but seeing it move again?

That was something else entirely.

Fifteen minutes later, the Rafale reached the west side of the base—an area reserved for engine run-ups.

No plane spotters. No curious eyes.

The tug carefully reversed, pushing the jet into position. Its twin exhausts faced a reinforced sound barrier—a hill designed to absorb jet blast.

The driver disengaged the towbar and pulled away, leaving the Rafale standing alone.

Grace grabbed a pair of heavy-duty wheel chocks, crouching to secure them around the nose wheel. Even with the parking brakes engaged, this was an extra layer of safety.

Just as she finished—

A car pulled up.

Its tires crunched against the pavement as it rolled to a smooth stop beside them.

Grace frowned. "Who the hell is this?"

Beside her, Himeko smirked, arms crossed.

"You'll see."

The car door swung open with a solid click.

A woman stepped out—tall, poised, and commanding. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the afternoon light. She reached up, removing her aviator sunglasses with deliberate ease, revealing piercing blue eyes that scanned the scene before her.

Behind her, Albedo let out a low chuckle. "Well, what do you know… It's Dandelion herself."

Grace blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Wait…"

Jean Gunnhildr.

A living legend.

Jean's sharp eyes swept across the team, taking in every detail—the people, the hangar, the tools scattered about from long hours of restoration. But then her gaze settled on the aircraft before her, and for a moment—she said nothing.

She simply stared.

Her footsteps were slow, deliberate as she walked forward, her gloved fingers trailing lightly along the fuselage. She took in the smooth contours of the airframe, feeling the history embedded in every rivet and panel.

She inhaled sharply.

"…It's been ten years since I last saw you."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it was undeniable.

Her hand rested on the cold metal. A wave of memories washed over her—flashes of the past, of Furina soaring through the sky, of battles fought and won.

"Furina would be in tears seeing you in this condition."

Jean stepped back, taking in the full sight of the Rafale—its newly restored frame gleaming under the hangar lights.

A rare flicker of emotion broke through her usually composed expression.

"You look just like the day you came out of the factory."

She turned to the team, nodding in approval. "You guys did a fantastic job restoring the legendary ace's plane."

Then her gaze fell on Grace, sharp yet warm.

"And if my memory serves me right… Ms. Howard here is the one leading this restoration, yes?"

Himeko nodded. "That's right."

Grace felt a sudden heat rise to her face. "I… uh… it's an honor to meet you, Captain Gunnhildr."

Jean chuckled, the sound light but genuine. "No need to be so formal, Grace. Call me Jean."

Grace quickly nodded. "R-Right!"

Jean clapped her hands together. "Now—shall we bring this thing back to life?"

Grace grinned. "Hell yeah. Let's get these engines running."

Engine Startup – The Awakening

Jean climbed the in-built ladder, stepping into the cockpit. The moment she settled into the ejection seat, she let out a low whistle.

"Damn… Now I know how it feels to sit in this seat."

Her fingers traced the edges of the sidestick, brushing over familiar switches and controls.

"In the simulator? Sure. But actually sitting in Furina's cockpit?" She smirked. "That's something I never thought I'd do."

She reached for the main electrical switch—flipping it to STBY.

The avionics flickered to life.

Power surged through the aircraft, systems booting up one by one. Displays lit up, each screen running through its start-up diagnostics. The scent of heated electronics filled the cockpit—a familiar smell to any pilot.

She pressed the APU start button.

A red light illuminated as the auxiliary power unit whined to life, stabilizing at a steady RPM. The faint vibration of the APU resonated through the airframe.

The red light switched off.

A green light replaced it.

Jean reached for the canopy switch beside the parking brake.

With a soft mechanical hiss, the canopy closed, sealing her inside. The cockpit dimmed, isolating her from the outside world.

She flicked the beacon lights on—a universal signal for ground crew to clear the area.

Then—

She flipped the main electrical switch from STBY to RIGHT.

First Engine Startup

A soft whine filled the air.

The right-side Snecma M88-2 engine began spooling up.

Jean's eyes flicked to the N2 gauge.

10%...

15%...

20%...

25%.

She reached for the engine management lever and pushed it up to IDLE.

Fuel was injected.

A pause—

Then—

Ignition.

A deep, bassy hum resonated through the airframe.

Fire spat from the exhaust, burning away residual oil.

Then, the engine settled at a smooth, stable idle.

One engine alive.

One to go.

Second Engine Startup

Jean switched the control to LEFT.

The left-side Snecma M88-2 engine spooled up—another low whine escalating into a deep mechanical howl.

She watched the N2 gauge.

10%… 15%… 20%… 25%…

At 25%, she pushed the left engine management lever from STOP to IDLE.

Fuel flow initiated.

A brief pause—

Then—ignition.

A low, guttural growl rippled through the Rafale's airframe.

Fire shot from the left exhaust, burning away residual fuel deposits.

Then—stabilization.

Both engines were now alive.

Grace gave a thumbs-up, shouting over the noise. "So far, so good!"

The Roar of a Beast

Jean slowly pushed the thrust levers forward.

The RPM climbed.

She glanced at the N1 percentage.

30%...

40%...

50%.

She let it stabilize.

Then—without warning—she slammed the throttles to full power.

A deafening roar filled the air.

Then—

The afterburners ignited.

Two massive pillars of fire erupted from the exhausts, painting the ground in an orange-blue glow.

Grace punched the air. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

Jean held full throttle for a solid minute before easing it back to idle.

The Rafale was alive.

Jean raised her hand, signaling for the wheel chocks to be removed.

Grace didn't need to be told twice.

She threw up a thumbs-up before turning toward her team, still yelling over the idle roar of the engines.

"LOOKS LIKE IT'S READY FOR ITS FIRST TAXI! I'M GONNA REMOVE THE CHOCKS!"

The team responded with a collective thumbs-up, stepping back to give her space.

Grace moved with practiced precision, yanking the nose wheel chocks free before stepping back—careful to stay clear of the powerful engine intakes.

She placed the chocks on the ground, stood up, and gave another thumbs-up.

Jean nodded from the cockpit and returned the signal with a sharp salute.

Then—she released the parking brakes.

She eased the throttles forward.

For the first time in 15 years—

Furina's Rafale moved under its own power.

Not being towed.

Not being pushed.

Not being dragged.

It was moving—on its own.

The team watched in silence.

There was something unreal about seeing this fighter—this legendary machine—rolling down the taxiway once again.

Even at a low-speed taxi, it carried a presence that was unmistakable.

Furina's ghost was in the air tonight.

And the Rafale was awake once more.

As Jean taxied past the main apron, she raised a hand from the cockpit and gave a thumbs-up.

Then, her voice crackled over the radio.

"Bring my car over to the hangar. I'll be shutting it down there."

Grace turned to the others, grinning. "Alright, let's head over. Himeko, mind bringing her car around?"

Himeko smirked. "No problem."

She slid into Jean's car, the engine purring to life as she pulled away, while the rest of the team jogged across the taxiway toward the hangar.

By the time they arrived, the Rafale was already in its final moments of shutdown.

The M88 engines spooled down, their mechanical whine tapering off into silence. The cockpit displays flickered, then dimmed, one by one, as the aircraft's systems powered down.

Then—stillness.

Jean opened the canopy and climbed down the in-built ladder, her boots touching the ground with a quiet thud.

She ran a hand through her blonde hair, exhaling slowly.

Then, wiping at her eyes, she let out a small, quiet laugh.

"Damn… That was an emotional rollercoaster."

Lumine folded her arms, nodding. "I won't deny that… It's an honor to be part of this. To work on Furina's jet."

Grace chuckled. "All of us feel that way, Lumine. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—"

She turned toward the aircraft, her voice laced with reverence.

"To restore the jet of Teyvat's greatest ace."

Jean followed her gaze, her expression softening.

She exhaled. "During the war… this plane carried her through hell and back."

She took a step closer, staring at the fuselage.

"It survived three squadrons.

The Tidal Squadron. The Drowned Squadron. And the Waltz Squadron."

She shook her head slowly.

"From being Fontaine's ace… to being court-martialed and accused of murder… and now?"

A faint smirk crossed her lips.

"Now? She's Teyvat's ace."

No one spoke.

Because it was the truth.

Jean's eyes lingered on the Rafale, something distant—something nostalgic—flickering behind them.

"She loves this plane," she murmured. "It's a one-off. It has her personal paint scheme."

She sighed, arms crossing.

"Seeing Furina fly in the standard gray... it just feels wrong."

She glanced toward Grace and Himeko, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

"Sure, I've gotten used to it. But... it's not the same. That's what sets Furina apart."

Then—her smile faded, replaced by something deeper.

She reached out, fingers trailing along the fuselage.

"...But this plane?"

Her touch lingered.

"This plane is what identifies Furina."

Her hand slowly fell away, stepping back.

"Because a part of Furina… is a part of this plane."

Her voice softened.

"And this plane… carries a part of Furina with it."

The Rafale was complete.

Fully restored.

Fully airworthy.

But—

It still wasn't certified to fly.

Not yet.

Until it passed the final airworthiness inspections by the Teyvat Air Commission, there was only one thing it could do—

Wait.

Wait on the tarmac.

Wait under the hangar lights.

Wait for her.

For the day it would finally—

Take to the skies once again.

Because now—

They were one step closer.

To reuniting Furina… with her Rafale.