Anniversary Preperations

The Countdown Begins

The Air Show commemorating the end of the Snezhnayan-Teyvat War was approaching fast.

Time was running out.

For the past two months, Furina's Dassault Rafale M had been in constant motion—taxiing around Elynas Air Force Base, performing high-speed runs, and even simulating takeoff rolls down the runway.

But no matter how fast it moved—

It still couldn't take off.

Not yet.

Because without the final certification of airworthiness, it was nothing more than a caged beast—primed to fly, yet shackled to the earth by bureaucracy.

And over at Marcotte Air Force Base, the final preparations for the grand event were already in motion.

Two Months Later – The Final Polish

The Rafale sat in the Run-Up Area, parked under the open sky.

A ring of ladders surrounded the aircraft, each occupied by a member of the team.

Rags. Polishing cloths. Cleaning spray.

Every hand was at work, ensuring that the fighter gleamed under the afternoon sun.

Her livery had been fully restored months ago—this was just maintenance.

Perched atop the aircraft, Grace Howard carefully buffed the canopy with a polishing cloth. The crystal-clear bubble glistened, mirroring the soft hues of the sky above.

She sighed, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

"We're running out of time… We need to get this certified to fly."

She stepped back, glancing down at the others.

"Or we won't be able to fly this to Marcotte Air Force Base."

Lumine let out a groan, shaking her head. "I know, right? What's taking the Air Commission so long?"

Aether, working on the left wing, chuckled as he wiped down the surface. "Relax, Sis. Himeko's gotta be doing something today. Maybe she finally got ahold of an inspector."

Asta, balancing near the right canard, nodded. "I hope so too. We can't keep doing taxi runs forever."

She turned toward the landing gear, eyes scanning the main struts. "And how are we even gonna get this to Marcotte? Flying it might get it spotted on radar."

Ayato, crouched by the main wheels, tapped a gloved finger against the tire. "Maybe fly it at night? Or load it onto a boat and ship it there?"

Albedo, standing near the vertical stabilizer, shook his head. "A boat would take too long. It has to be flown there."

Grace exhaled, descending the ladder. She tossed her rag onto a nearby cart, placing her hands on her hips.

"Not just that." She turned toward the group.

"The route to Marcotte passes by a town. If people see a Rafale in Furina's paint scheme flying overhead at low speeds…"

A pause.

"Furina will notice."

She sighed. "So much for the element of surprise."

Albedo nodded. "That's true."

Warbirds Gathering at Marcotte

Grace wiped her sweat and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a few sips before speaking.

"Well, she's almost clean—again."

She turned to Albedo. "How long until the opening ceremony?"

Albedo pulled out his phone, scrolling through event details.

"Umm… Two and a half weeks?"

Grace exhaled sharply. "Great…"

Albedo sighed. "I know… I was actually at Marcotte this morning. They're already bringing in planes from the war."

That caught everyone's attention.

"Including Knave's Su-57. The one that fought Furina's Rafale during the Battle of Morepesok."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Albedo nodded. "Hell, even the Primordial Squadron's old planes are there, too."

"And Jean's F-14B—the one she stole when she was shot down."

Aether let out a low whistle. "Damn. So they really went all out, huh?"

Grace crossed her arms. "Who else is coming to this event?"

Albedo tapped his chin, thinking. "Everyone, I think. Considering Arlecchino's Su-57 is there, I'd say Snezhnaya was invited, too."

He shrugged. "I mean, it helps improve relations between nations. So that's a plus."

Then, he smirked.

"Hell, you wouldn't believe the rumors and fake news flying around."

Lumine raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Albedo chuckled. "Some say a Rafale M is being repainted in Furina's colors as a replica."

Asta scoffed. "Bullshit."

Albedo grinned. "Others are saying Dassault is building a 'Waltz Edition' Rafale."

Grace rolled her eyes. "More bullshit."

Albedo gestured toward the aircraft. "Exactly. We have the real thing—right here, in front of our eyes."

Grace smirked. "That's right. She's ready to spread her wings… All she needs is certification."

Final Step – Inspection Begins

Right on cue—a black sedan pulled up.

The door swung open.

Himeko stepped out, walking toward the group with a composed, silver-haired woman beside her.

Himeko nodded toward the team.

"Alright, everyone—it's time."

She turned toward the inspector and gestured toward her.

"This is Bronya. Former Air Force pilot, flight instructor, and aircraft inspector."

Her eyes gleamed as she added, "And, just so you know—she flew Rafales in the war. So if there's anyone qualified to inspect this jet, it's her."

Bronya gave them a polite nod, her sharp gray eyes scanning the aircraft and the team.

"Pleasure to meet you all. And, of course—congratulations."

Her voice carried the weight of experience.

"What you've done here is nothing short of extraordinary."

She turned, taking in the sight of the Rafale M, her gaze lingering on the golden lettering beneath the canopy.

"Restoring Miss Furina's Rafale… It's an incredible feat."

A slow breath.

"To stand before it now, fully restored… It's surreal."

The team exchanged glances, a sense of pride settling over them.

But there was still one last step to go.

Bronya straightened her clipboard, regaining her professional demeanor.

"This inspection will take about an hour or two. The Certificate of Airworthiness should be processed within the next day or two."

Grace nodded, arms crossed. "That gives us exactly two weeks to prepare the plane for its flight to Marcotte Air Force Base."

Bronya nodded. "That's right."

She turned back to the aircraft, eyes sharp. "You've all done your part. Now, it's my turn."

Himeko smirked. "I'll give you a call when it's done."

Grace turned to her team. "Alright, let's head out."

As they walked away, Bronya remained still.

She let out a slow breath.

Then—she stepped forward, running her fingers over the gold lettering beneath the canopy.

Élégante et Efficace.

A quiet whisper.

"Furina's Rafale… standing right here, in front of me."

Her grip tightened on the clipboard.

"Alright."

"Let's get to work."

Charybdis Air Force Base – A Normal Day, or So It Seemed

Charybdis Air Force Base was alive with the constant hum of jet engines and the steady rhythm of military routine.

Above, the sky had only just been scarred by the high-speed dance of fighter jets, but now, as the Waltz Squadron returned from another round of aerial training, the battlefield had shifted from the clouds to the concrete.

One by one, the sleek Dassault Rafale M Evolution fighters touched down, their tires kissing the runway with precision. The control tower barked landing clearances, ground crews moved like clockwork, and the airfield pulsed with the organized chaos that defined a military base.

Each aircraft taxied in formation down the gray taxiway, then split off in a well-rehearsed sequence, peeling toward their respective hangars. The low whine of their twin M88 engines slowly diminished as they reached their final parking positions.

Another training sortie was complete.

For the pilots of Waltz Squadron, this was routine.

For their commander, it was just another day at the office.

At the helm of it all was Furina de Fontaine.

The Ace Returns to the Ground

Inside the cockpit of her Rafale M Evolution, Furina exhaled, her body finally unwinding from the intense focus of aerial combat—even if it had only been a simulation.

Her hands moved on instinct, flicking switches in rapid succession as the aircraft shut down. The familiar hum of the M88 engines faded, displays blinked off, and the advanced combat system powered down one module at a time.

Reaching for the canopy release, she pressed the switch.

With a soft mechanical hiss, the canopy lifted, and a gust of warm afternoon air rushed in.

Furina pulled off her flight helmet, shaking loose her platinum-silver and blue hair, which caught in the gentle breeze.

She took a moment to observe—watching her squadron as they taxied into their parking spots, shut down their jets, and climbed down onto the tarmac.

Then, with a practiced motion, she descended from the ladder of her Rafale, her boots making firm contact with the concrete.

Another mission complete.

Squadron Debriefing

Furina spotted her squadron making their way toward the barracks.

Helmet in one hand, she raised her free arm and signaled for them to gather.

"Everyone! Gather around, please!"

The pilots of Waltz Squadron immediately responded, forming a loose semi-circle around her.

Among them were Navia, Yelan, Dehya, Shenhe, and Beidou—each of them still radiating the energy of the exercise.

From behind, Clorinde and Collei—senior members of the squadron—approached as well, standing alongside Furina.

Furina took a breath before speaking.

"Alright. Now that everyone's here…"

Her sharp blue eyes scanned the group, her tone shifting to command mode.

"Good job today. This training is designed to simulate real dogfights—but more importantly, it teaches you what it's like to be hunted."

She let the words settle before continuing.

"How to evade. How to break missile locks. How to survive."

There was no hesitation in her voice. She knew from experience—this wasn't just a game.

"These drills will save your lives."

The squadron nodded. Some looked exhausted, others exhilarated, but they all understood the weight of her words.

Furina smiled slightly. "Good. We'll review your flight footage later. Gather in the briefing room in three hours for debrief and simulated kill counts."

She glanced at her watch.

"That's around… 1745 hours."

Looking back at them, she nodded. "You're dismissed."

With that, the squadron dispersed, chatting amongst themselves about the day's maneuvers, near-kills, and the thrill of the chase.

Furina watched them go, arms crossed.

She smirked. "So young… but so much talent behind the canopy."

Clorinde chuckled beside her. "Yeah… especially Yelan."

Furina nodded, amused. "Mhm. She stuck onto me like glue up there."

Collei raised an eyebrow. "Did she get a lock?"

Furina chuckled. "Almost. But I pulled a 90-degree Cobra on her—caught her off guard and scored the kill."

She tapped her temple. "Always expect the unexpected."

Clorinde and Collei laughed, shaking their heads.

Furina joined in—before her gaze drifted toward her Rafale.

Her expression softened.

A sigh.

"I miss my old Rafale."

Her Élégante et Efficace.

The one she had flown through the war.

The one that had carried her through countless battles, where every kill, every close call, and every triumph was etched into its airframe.

Clorinde placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "She'll be found, Furina. Don't worry."

Collei nodded. "Yeah… it's not like she vanished. She's out there somewhere."

Furina exhaled. "Yeah…"

She wanted to believe it.

Whispers of a Lost Legend

Clorinde glanced at Collei. "You think they're making a replica of Furina's Rafale for the Air Show at Marcotte Air Force Base?"

Collei shrugged. "I'm not sure. Most of the planes being brought in are the actual ones from the war."

She looked at Furina. "Even the Su-57 you nearly took down at Morepesok is going to be there."

Clorinde raised an eyebrow. "What about Arlecchino's Su-75?"

Collei shook her head. "Not sure. But I heard it's being transported."

Furina crossed her arms. "Surely someone must've found my old Rafale by now. Right?"

Clorinde hesitated. "Maybe."

Collei perked up. "Actually… I did hear something."

Furina's gaze sharpened. "Go on."

Collei tapped her chin. "A plane-spotting community reported seeing a Rafale with a paint scheme similar to your Élégante et Efficace… at Elynas Air Force Base."

Furina scoffed. "Dassault Aviation's home airport?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's gotta be a new Rafale M painted in my colors for the event."

Collei nodded. "That's possible. There's no proof that it's the real one."

Clorinde crossed her arms. "Exactly. Just because it has your paint scheme, your title, and even your golden emblem on the tail… doesn't mean it's actually 1013-FF."

Furina smirked. "Exactly."

Then—her smirk widened.

"Still… seeing at least a replica would be nice."

Collei raised an eyebrow. "And what if it really is yours?"

Furina turned to her, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Oh, trust me."

She tapped her chest.

"I'd know."

Collei tilted her head. "How?"

Furina smirked. "I don't know. But I'd just know. I'd feel it in my bones."

Clorinde chuckled. "So an aura, huh?"

Furina laughed. "Pretty much."

But deep down—she couldn't shake the feeling.

What if?

An Unexpected Arrival

Before they could dwell on it further, the distant hum of an approaching engine caught their attention.

A sleek white car pulled up beside the hangar, sunlight glinting off its polished surface.

The driver's side door opened—

And out stepped a familiar figure.

Before she even spoke, Furina smirked.

"Well, what do you know—Jean Gunnhildr shows up!"

Jean laughed. "Furina! Hey! Long time no see!"

And just like that, a new conversation began.

You said:

continue please

ChatGPT said:

Jean whistled as she eyed the Monica 650. "Wow. I didn't take you for a classic car kind of woman, Furina."

Furina smirked as she unlocked the door. "I like style. And speed. This has both." She patted the roof of the sleek sedan, its polished body reflecting the afternoon sun. "Besides, you know me—I can't stand driving something boring."

Jean chuckled. "I should've guessed. You were always one for flair."

As the four of them got in—Furina driving, Jean in the passenger seat, Clorinde and Collei in the back—Furina turned the key, and the V8 roared to life. The low, rich growl of the engine filled the air as she shifted into gear and pulled out of the lot.

"Where are we heading?" Jean asked, leaning back in her seat.

Furina thought for a moment before smirking. "There's a nice place near the harbor. Good seafood, good wine. My kind of place."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "Wine? During the day?"

Furina rolled her eyes. "Relax. I meant for later. You know I don't drink and drive."

Jean chuckled. "Alright, alright. Just making sure."

As they drove down the highway, the city skyline came into view in the distance. Fontaine had changed in the fifteen years since the war ended—new buildings, new roads, but the soul of the nation remained the same. The blend of old-world architecture and modern innovation stood as a testament to its resilience.

Furina glanced at the passing scenery, her mind drifting back to the conversation about her Rafale. Could it really be mine? The idea seemed far-fetched, but something about it nagged at her. If her old jet had been found… she had to see it for herself.

Jean must have noticed the look in her eyes because she smirked. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

Furina blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "What?"

Jean leaned on the armrest, giving her a knowing glance. "The Rafale. You're wondering if it's really yours."

Furina scoffed. "Please. I'm just curious, that's all."

Collei piped up from the back. "Uh-huh. Sure. You look really curious, Furina."

Furina rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she let out a sigh. "Fine. Maybe I do want to see it. Just to be sure."

Clorinde smirked. "Then why not make a trip to Elynas? You are Fontaine's ace. You could probably just walk in."

Furina tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. "...Maybe."

Jean grinned. "And if it is yours?"

Furina's smirk returned. "Then I'll bring her home where she belongs."

As they continued toward the harbor, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the city. A normal day—perhaps—but something told Furina that things were about to get very interesting.

A Milestone Reached – Elynas Air Force Base

The sun hung low over Elynas Air Force Base, bathing the aircraft apron in a golden glow as the team strode toward the familiar silhouette of Furina's Rafale M.

Grace, Asta, Aether, Lumine, Serval, Gepard, and Ayato quickened their pace, anticipation buzzing in the air. The long wait was nearly over.

Himeko's message had come earlier—telling them to return to the base. Now, as they approached, they spotted her and Bronya locked in quiet conversation.

Bronya, ever composed, held a clipboard, her usual air of professionalism intact—but there was something different today. The faintest glimmer of satisfaction played on her expression.

Grace was the first to speak.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bronya."

Bronya turned, nodding in greeting. "Good afternoon, Miss Howard."

She took a breath—then smiled.

"I've got some good news for you."

The Announcement

Bronya's smile widened.

"First—congratulations. The plane passed the inspection."

For a split second, silence hung over them.

Then—

"YES!" Grace fist-pumped the air, her voice carrying across the tarmac.

Aether and Lumine exchanged a high-five, Asta let out a cheer, and Serval grabbed Gepard's arm with an excited shake. Even Ayato—ever composed—exhaled with a subtle but satisfied nod.

Bronya chuckled at their reaction before continuing.

"Second—as we speak, the Certificate of Airworthiness is being processed. By tomorrow, it'll be mailed here."

She turned toward Furina's Rafale, its sleek frame basking under the open sky, waiting—waiting for the moment it could take to the air once more.

A slow breath.

"She's ready to spread her wings again. The reunion with Furina is going to be one hell of a day."

Himeko nodded. "Her first flight will be the day she departs for Marcotte Air Base—two weeks from now."

The team stood still, letting it sink in.

After months of painstaking restoration, after endless hours poured into bringing this legend back to life—

It was finally happening.

The countdown had begun.

Meanwhile – A Restaurant in a Nearby Town

At a cozy restaurant near Charybdis Air Force Base, the warm hum of conversation mixed with the occasional clink of silverware.

Jean sat with Furina, Clorinde, and Collei, enjoying a well-earned meal.

The evening was calm—until Jean's phone vibrated inside her bomber jacket pocket.

Setting her fork down, she pulled it out and unlocked the screen.

A message from Grace Howard.

"Hey Jean! Furina's Rafale just passed the Airworthiness Inspection! Its first flight is in two weeks! Before Opening Day. – Grace"

Jean froze mid-breath.

Then, before she could stop herself—

Her fist clenched under the table, and she whispered, "Yes!"

Furina, mid-sip, arched an eyebrow.

"Something happened, Jean?"

Jean's heart skipped a beat.

Shit.

Forcing a casual laugh, she quickly slipped her phone back into her jacket.

"Oh! Uh… nothing. Just some news I've been following for a while."

Furina leaned back slightly. "Oh? I see. Must be something aviation-related, huh?"

Jean nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "That's right."

Thinking fast, she added a believable excuse.

"A scale model of a Boeing 747-100 I've been searching for—it finally showed up."

Furina nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see."

She took another sip, seemingly satisfied.

Collei, however, tilted her head. "Wait—you collect plane models?"

Jean nodded, regaining her composure. "That's right. I even have a scale model of Furina's Rafale in her iconic paint scheme."

Clorinde smirked, crossing her arms. "I think it's safe to assume everyone has a scale model of Furina's Rafale."

Collei giggled. "And I think Furina has hundreds of them."

That did it.

The entire table burst into laughter.

Even Furina couldn't help but laugh.

Jean laughed with them, but beneath the humor, her thoughts raced.

That was way too close.

She'd barely managed to cover it up—but she wouldn't be able to hide the truth forever.

Because when Furina finally saw her Rafale again—

When she saw it, restored and waiting—

It would be a moment she would never forget.

The Night Before – Marcotte Air Force Base

The Final Countdown – 15 Years Later

The night before the opening ceremony of the Teyvat-Snezhnaya War Commemoration Air Show had finally arrived.

Marcotte Air Force Base was alive with activity—packed with aircraft from multiple squadrons across every nation's air force.

The vast airfield was a sea of steel and firepower.

Fighter jets. Bombers. AWACS. Air tankers. Even retired warbirds, their engines still roaring, standing as relics of a past carved in the skies of Teyvat.

Every ramp, every apron, every available inch of tarmac was taken.

Overhead, the airspace was alive with the thunder of arriving aircraft—some landing, some taking off, others executing formation flyovers in their final rehearsals before the grand event.

But on the ground, the real spectacle was unfolding on one of the base's two runways.

A sight rarely seen.

The Elephant Walk

Side by side, aircraft lined up in formation, engines idling in a deep, resonant hum. The last light of the sun cast golden reflections on their fuselages, illuminating the scars of battle that time could never erase.

And at the very front, positioned as if leading the charge—

The Waltz Squadron.

Not the modern Rafale M Evolution models they flew today.

No—

These were the original warplanes.

The same fighter jets that had locked missiles in dogfights, that had punched through enemy defenses at impossible speeds, that had dodged death and delivered it in equal measure.

A mix of F-15E Strike Eagles and Dassault Rafale M fighters.

Just behind them—

The Primordial Squadron.

At its center, Jean's F-14B Tomcat—the aircraft that had seen her through the final days of the war.

Her original F-15E Strike Eagle, the one she had piloted before the Battle of Morepesok, was gone—destroyed in combat against Arlecchino in one of the most brutal engagements of the war.

The other Primordial Squadron aircraft stood silent beside it, their battle-worn airframes serving as a reminder of victories won and lives lost.

This wasn't about the new generations of Waltz or Primordial pilots.

This was history.

A moment frozen in time.

A reminder of those who had come before.

But they were not alone.

Other legendary squadrons stood in formation—

Nocturne Squadron – The original Nocturne One through Five, their F/A-18 Super Hornets still bearing the scars of countless missions.

Tidal Squadron – At the front, their F-35C Lightning II, the very jet that had cut through relentless enemy defenses to claim one of the war's final victories.

And behind them—

The enemy.

The Snezhnayan Contingent

There was no division tonight.

No battle lines.

Because tonight, they stood together.

At the rear of the formation, Hearth Squadron of the Snezhnayan Air Force held their position, their Su-57 Felons casting long shadows under the floodlights.

And among them—

Arlecchino's Su-57.

The same war-torn aircraft that had barely limped away from Morepesok—one engine shredded, fuselage riddled with bullet holes from Furina's gunfire.

A machine that should have fallen from the sky—but didn't.

Beside it, a replica of her Su-75 Checkmate.

The real Su-75 remained in the Snezhnayan Air and Space Museum, too damaged—too costly—to bring across the continent for a single event.

But even in replica form, it carried a presence.

And they weren't the only ones.

More squadrons had arrived:

Cascade Squadron – Their four F-14B Tomcats, relics of another era, yet still proud and ready.

Rancher Squadron – Their F-22 Raptors, sleek and deadly, glinting under the floodlights.

And bringing up the rear—

Three E-3 Sentry AWACS aircraft.

AWACS Zaytun.

AWACS Justice.

AWACS Visionaire.

The very same airborne command units that had guided Furina and her allies through the war.

Even AWACS Justice—the AWACS that had once been Furina's lifeline when she flew as The Drowned.

Once enemies.

Now standing side by side.

Because this wasn't about war anymore.

This was about peace.

A peace bought with blood, fire, and sacrifice.

A Silent Observation

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, two figures stood at the edge of the runway, watching.

Gepard Landau.

And his sister—Serval.

They had been stationed at Marcotte to assist with ground logistics and preparations for the event.

But more than that—

They were here for something greater.

Because tonight—at midnight—

Furina's Rafale would return.

For the first time in fifteen years, the Élégante et Efficace would land at Marcotte Air Base once more.

But for now, they waited.

Serval exhaled, crossing her arms.

Her voice was calm—but there was something unreadable in her tone.

"Look at these fleets of planes. But…"

She hesitated.

"…It still feels wrong."

Gepard let out a quiet sigh, nodding.

"I know, Sis." His gaze lingered on the Waltz Squadron's fighters at the head of the formation.

And then, his expression hardened.

"But Furina's Rafale should be there."

His fists clenched at his sides.

"And I don't just mean any Rafale."

His voice dropped to a near whisper.

"I mean her Rafale. The Élégante et Efficace."

Awaiting a Legend

Serval placed a hand on Gepard's shoulder.

Her voice was steady—filled with quiet certainty.

"Don't worry."

She turned her gaze upward, watching as the first stars began to emerge in the darkening sky.

"Soon, it'll be there."

She smirked.

"And once Furina takes her first flight with it…"

She exhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

"Fifteen years later—"

She opened them again.

"—everything will be set right."

Gepard remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the runway where history was waiting to be written again.

Then—

Slowly, a smile crept onto his face.

Tonight.

It would return.

And when it did—

History would come full circle.

The Night Furina's Rafale Took Flight

Elynas Air Force Base

Midnight.

The night sky stretched above them—a deep, endless canvas of stars. A full moon cast a pale glow over the airbase, illuminating the hangars, the runways, and the silent fighter jets resting under the night's embrace.

But one aircraft would not remain grounded tonight.

Furina's Dassault Rafale M.

For the first time in fifteen years—it was about to take flight once again.

The Final Briefing

A group stood huddled around a makeshift briefing table near the hangar.

Grace's team.

Himeko.

Albedo.

And Jean Gunnhildr—the pilot for tonight's mission.

Himeko's voice was firm as she laid down the flight plan.

"Alright, let's make this quick."

She handed Jean a folder.

Jean flipped it open—her Operational Flight Plan (OFP).

"This is your flight route. You'll be flying low—5000 feet maximum. Estimated flight time? Fifteen to twenty minutes."

Jean nodded, scanning the details.

"This altitude keeps us hidden from flight tracker websites and satellite tracking. But listen closely—"

Himeko's expression grew serious.

"Over cities, do not drop below 2000 feet. Keep your lights from reflecting off the fuselage—especially the underside."

"The last thing we need is some plane spotter catching Furina's Rafale flying low and spreading the news."

Jean nodded once, firm. "Understood."

Himeko gave a thumbs-up.

"Good. We've already coordinated with the Teyvat Air Commission. The flight is officially approved, so we're in the clear."

Grace clapped her hands together.

"Alright! Let's move out. We've got less than ten hours until daybreak, and we need to be gone before anyone at Marcotte spots us."

A chorus of nods followed.

To The Runway

As the team moved, Jean grabbed her helmet, securing it under her arm as she walked toward the Rafale.

The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the burning anticipation in her chest.

The Rafale was waiting for her.

Prepped. Fueled. Its APU already running.

Jean exhaled slowly as she reached the side of the fuselage.

She placed a hand on the aircraft.

"You've waited long enough."

Her fingers traced the 1013-FF marking just below the canopy.

"Let's go home."

She reached up, climbing the in-built ladder before sliding into the ejection seat.

Startup Sequence – Bringing the Beast to Life

Jean pulled on her helmet and oxygen mask, locking them into place.

Then, she reached for the Flight Management System and keyed in her single waypoint.

Marcotte Air Force Base.

The flight plan was simple.

A direct, low-altitude approach—under the radar, invisible to tracking.

She pulled her shoulder harness tight, then flicked the canopy switch beside the parking brake.

With a mechanical hiss, the canopy sealed shut.

She was locked in.

Jean exhaled, then flicked the main electrical switch from STBY to RIGHT.

The aircraft hummed to life.

Outside, Grace and her team watched in silence.

Then—

A low whine filled the air.

The right-side Snecma M88-2 engine began to spool up.

Jean glanced at 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 low, guttural growl rumbled through the Rafale's frame.

The EGT (Exhaust Gas Temperature) spiked, then stabilized.

One engine alive. One to go.

Jean repeated the process, flipping from RIGHT to LEFT.

Seconds later, the second M88-2 engine roared to life, syncing perfectly with the first.

Taxi to Destiny

Jean disengaged the parking brakes.

A gentle nudge of the throttle—

The Rafale rolled forward.

For the first time in fifteen years—

It moved under its own power.

She guided the jet toward the runway, switching on the formation lights while aligning with the centerline.

Then, she pressed the toe brakes—stopping the Rafale.

A moment of silence.

Jean closed her eyes.

"May the Anemo Archon guide me on this flight."

She opened them.

Her fingers tightened around the sidestick.

"Let's go."

She pushed the throttles to 50%, letting the engines stabilize—

Then—

She slammed them to FULL POWER.

The afterburners ignited.

A thunderous roar tore through the night.

The speed climbed.

80 knots.

100 knots.

120 knots.

At 142 knots—

Jean gently pulled back on the sidestick.

The nose lifted.

And then—

The main landing gear left the ground.

Furina's Rafale Was Airborne.

For the first time in fifteen years.

On the Ground – Cheers of Victory

The team watched in awe as the Rafale climbed away, disappearing into the night sky.

Then—

Cheering erupted.

Aether fist-pumped the air. "YES! SHE FLIES!"

Lumine jumped in excitement. "LET'S GO!!"

Asta threw her arms up. "LET'S FUCKING GO!"

Grace clapped, beaming. "Great job, team!"

Himeko chuckled, shaking her head. "Incredible work, all of you."

Then, her expression hardened.

"Alright—into the SUV. We're on a tight schedule."

The celebration ended quickly.

The team rushed to an awaiting SUV, piling in as the driver floored it—

Destination: Marcotte Air Force Base.

Jean's Flight – The Midnight Approach

Jean leveled off at 5000 feet, settling into a short cruise.

The Rafale moved. Not just in the literal sense—but in a way that felt almost unnatural after so many years of stillness.

The controls were responsive, yet there was a subtle tension in the airframe. A faint vibration through the stick, a lingering stiffness in the rudder pedals—like a runner stretching their legs after years of being confined to a chair.

But it was alive.

She was alive.

Ahead, the distant city lights of Charybdis flickered in the darkness.

Her flight path would take her right over it.

Jean exhaled, glancing at her instruments.

All systems normal.

Then—

A thought crept into her mind.

"Furina… You have no idea what's coming."

Her Rafale is back.

And tomorrow—she'll see it with her own two eyes.

The Night Before – Charybdis

A Final Dinner Before the Big Day

Charybdis was alive with the quiet hum of nightlife.

Restaurants and taverns brimmed with pilots, mechanics, and air force personnel from across Teyvat, all gathered for the upcoming commemoration.

In a small but lively tavern, a group of seasoned aviators sat around a large table, their plates filled with food, their glasses raised in quiet celebration.

At the center of it all—Furina de Fontaine.

She was surrounded by her squadmates from Waltz Squadron, alongside a few pilots from the legendary Primordial Squadron.

Among them—Amber, Mavuika, Clorinde, and Eula.

Laughter and chatter filled the air as the pilots drank, ate, and reminisced about the past.

Then—

A familiar voice cut through the noise.

Amber leaned forward, spearing a bite of her meal before glancing at Furina.

"Excited for tomorrow, Furina?"

Furina smirked, lifting her beer with an effortless confidence.

"That's right. Being the hero that ended the war? Of course I am."

Her blue eyes gleamed with amusement as she set the mug down with a soft thud.

Mavuika turned to her. "Your Rafale is there, yes?"

Furina nodded. "Yeah. 1310-FF is already at Marcotte."

Amber raised an eyebrow. "And 1013-FF?"

Furina sighed, shaking her head.

"No dice. Still not found."

The table fell silent for a moment.

Eula set down her glass, crossing her arms. "It's not fair, you know."

She tilted her head, studying Furina. "Not even a replica of your Rafale made it to the event."

Furina exhaled, running a hand through her hair.

"Yeah. That's true."

She took a slow breath.

"It was my steed throughout the war. Not having at least a replica should be a sin."

A Distant Roar – Fate Flies Above

Then—

A deep, rumbling roar filled the air.

A fighter jet streaked across the night sky, afterburners blazing, flying low over Charybdis.

Furina's instincts kicked in.

Her gaze snapped skyward, locked onto the silhouette slicing through the darkness.

Amber followed her line of sight. "Would you look at that. Another Rafale."

She raised an eyebrow. "You can tell from this distance?"

Furina smirked slightly.

"Yeah. Just from its engine noise."

Mavuika glanced up at the rapidly disappearing aircraft. "You think it's a replica of yours?"

Furina shook her head without hesitation.

"Not by a long shot."

She took another sip of her drink, fingers tapping idly against the wooden table.

"If they were making a replica of my Rafale, they would've run it by me first."

She exhaled, tapping a finger against the rim of her mug.

"If I wanted a replica at the event tomorrow, it would have to be the most accurate replica ever made."

Her voice carried weight.

"Not a single detail missed. Every panel. Every marking. Every bolt and rivet. Everything perfect."

Eula let out a low whistle. "Damn. That accurate, huh?"

Furina leaned back with a chuckle.

"Of course. A legendary ace's aircraft has to be represented down to the last detail."

Mavuika nodded. "Right. Then who do you think it was?"

Furina tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe some Fontaine squadron's plane. Maybe it was flown in last minute."

The group shrugged it off, turning back to their meal. Conversation shifted back to lighter topics, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air once more.

Furina took another drink, shaking off the momentary curiosity.

But little did she know—

The aircraft that had just torn across the Charybdis night sky—

The jet that had vanished into the darkness, leaving only its afterburner's glow—

Was hers.

The real Élégante et Efficace.

Fifteen years later—

It had returned to the skies.

And tomorrow—

She would see it.

The Arrival – Marcotte Air Force Base

30 Minutes Later – The Calm Before the Storm

The Rafale M sat in the darkness, its silhouette barely visible against the dimly lit taxiway turn-off at Marcotte Air Force Base.

Its engines were silent.

Its lights were off.

For now, it was just another aircraft resting in the shadows.

But tomorrow—

It would be the centerpiece of everything.

Beneath the nose of the Rafale, standing by the main landing gear, was Jean Gunnhildr.

She stood with her hands on her hips, her gaze shifting between the jet's sleek frame and the distant glow of the airfield.

Then—

The rumble of an approaching SUV.

Right on cue.

The vehicle rolled to a stop nearby, its headlights cutting out.

Grace stepped out first.

"Jean! Sorry we're late!"

Jean waved her off. "No worries. We still have time."

Lumine hopped out next, shaking her head.

"Not for long, though."

Serval nodded, her voice low.

"Management is only letting us keep the lights off for another ten minutes. We have to move."

Gepard gestured toward a hangar in the distance.

"That's where we're parking it."

The team turned their gaze toward the massive structure near the main runway—its doors shut, waiting.

"That's where the opening ceremony is happening tomorrow," he added.

Then—

Himeko stepped in, arms crossed.

"During Furina's opening speech, we'll pull the Rafale out and position it right in front of the main doors."

Her amber eyes locked onto Grace.

"We'll wait for the signal. The second we get it—the hangar doors open."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Will anyone be outside?"

Himeko shook her head.

"No. I've already coordinated with the event officials. We're in the clear."

Grace exhaled, relieved.

"Alright. Let's get this Rafale hidden. Time's running out."

The Final Move

Ayato hopped into the tug vehicle, reversing it until the tow bar clicked against the Rafale's nose gear.

Gepard and Lumine secured the connection, then gave Ayato a thumbs-up.

The tug whined softly as Ayato slowly pulled forward, the Rafale rolling smoothly toward its temporary resting place.

The group walked alongside the jet, staying close, keeping watch.

As they moved, they crossed the left-side runway.

And then—

A sight that made Grace pause mid-step.

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Whoa… Look at that."

Lumine turned her head.

There—lined up in perfect formation on the runway—

The Elephant Taxi.

A parade of aircraft from every squadron, every nation.

Their frames stood proudly beneath the floodlights, silent warriors awaiting the morning's ceremony.

Lumine exhaled.

"Yep. The Elephant Taxi."

Her gaze flicked toward the front of the lineup.

"Looks like Furina's replacement Rafale is there too."

Grace stared for another moment—then shook her head, snapping back to focus.

"Come on. We've got a job to do."

The Rafale continued forward, guided toward the hangar.

Ayato carefully maneuvered the tug, positioning the jet so that its tail faced the doors.

Then—

The hangar doors slid open, revealing a dimly lit, vacant space inside.

The final resting place before tomorrow's reveal.

The team stepped forward, guiding Ayato as he carefully reversed the Rafale inside.

Within moments—it was parked.

Locking It Down

Lumine climbed up the in-built ladder, reaching into the cockpit.

She pulled the parking brake lever, locking the aircraft in place before climbing back down.

Aether moved in, placing chocks on the wheels.

Grace knelt beside the tow bar, unhooking it with a satisfying click.

Ayato pulled the tug away, parking it outside.

Then—

The team stepped back.

For a moment, they simply stood there.

Watching.

They had done it.

The Rafale was safe.

Hidden.

Ready.

Final Preparations

Grace clapped her hands together.

"We're all set, boys and gals. Made it just in time."

Serval and Aether slid the hangar doors shut, locking them for good measure.

Then—right on cue—

The airfield lights flickered back on.

Grace let out a slow, deep breath.

"We did it. Just in time."

Himeko nodded.

"Yes. We did."

She turned to the team.

"Alright, everyone. Get some rest. Tomorrow's the big day."

Her gaze sharpened.

"We only have one shot at this. The reveal has to be perfect."

She glanced at her watch.

"6:00 AM sharp. No exceptions."

A chorus of nods followed.

With that, the team piled back into the SUV, heading toward their hotel.

The Stage Is Set

The airbase fell into calm silence once again.

Inside the locked hangar, resting beneath dim overhead lights—

Was the Élégante et Efficace.

For fifteen years, it had been nothing more than a legend. A story.

But tomorrow—

It would be real once again.

The Opening Ceremony wasn't just an airshow.

It wasn't just a commemoration of the war's end.

It was a reunion.

A reunion between an ace—

And her one-of-a-kind steed.

Tomorrow—

Furina would finally see her Rafale.

And when she did—

The world would be watching.