CH 1 : The Lone Mountain
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Date: 31 December 1971, 9:40 PM
Location: Mont-Blanc, Aetherland Navy Training Ground
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The snow kept falling —
Soft, disinterested, endless.
Somewhere in the east, the war still echoed.
But here in the mountains, things were quiet.
Under control.
Secured.
Aetherland still held the western spine.
Mont-Blanc was far from the frontline.
Too far.
Too high.
Too boring.
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Two guards stood near a barrel fire —
Steam rising from coffee mugs.
One smoked.
The other unwrapped a ration bar.
They tried to laugh.
"Why the hell is a navy base on a mountain?"
"Maybe they're planning to build a flying ship next."
"Yeah, call it 'Ghost Corps' — pilot by ghosts, drop bombs by angels."
They both chuckled.
Anything to distract from the cold, the war, the silence.
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Then —
They saw
A silhouette.
Alone.
Walking through the snow.
Too small to be a soldier.
Too graceful to be local.
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"That's... a person, right?"
"Yeah but—"
"It's not a Russ. No way. Too short. Wrong posture."
"Wait—look. Flashlight. Morse Code."
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Short.
Long.
Short.
Recognizable.
Internal Navy pattern.
Aetherland encryption.
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The guards stiffened.
"Open the gate."
"Now."
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They moved fast.
Gate cracked.
Rifles raised — just in case.
the figure kept walking.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't stop.
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"IDENTIFY YOURSELF!"
No answer.
Warning shot fired into the snow.
the figure halt the step.
Turned.
Pulled back the hood.
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Brown hair.
Red eyes.
Skin pale from cold.
A face carved in silence.
Not angry.
Not afraid.
Just... determined.
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Her voice cut the air cleanly:
"Take me to your commander."
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[COMMANDER'S OFFICE — 9:53 PM]
A small screen played a Hollywood movie.
Some war epic.
Loud.
Explosions.
Heroic lines.
Commander Lucien Vaast sat back, sipping coffee.
Trying to forget for one night that his empire was fractured.
The door slammed.
He groaned.
"Unless there's a little girl lost in the mountains, don't interrupt my New Year's—"
He turned.
And dropped the cup.
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A girl.
Barely twelve.
Soaked.
Trembling.
But unmoving.
Princess Selene von Aetherwald.
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The guards looked pale.
Like they'd seen a ghost in royal form.
Commander Vaast stared.
"What—how—why—are you here alone—"
"Are you being chased?!"
"Did someone follow you here?! Is the palace hit?!"
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Selene's voice, calm despite the storm behind her:
"No."
She stepped forward.
"I'm not being chased."
"I came here by choice."
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A pause.
The room held its breath.
Then:
"I want to join the Imperial Navy."
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And just like that—
On the coldest night of the year,
As the war raged far from them,
And the snow blanketed the world in silence—
A child born of fire,
Drenched in storm,
Reclaimed her destiny.
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