December 12
0400 Hours
The night was still.
Only the sound of waves crashing gently against the carrier's hull filled the air. Above, the stars glimmered quietly—cold, distant, and unblinking.
Four pilots stood on the main deck, facing their F-14A Tomcats. The jets loomed in silence, their matte-black surfaces absorbing the dim glow of the deck lights. Ground crews moved with urgency but little noise, carefully loading live ordnance—Sidewinders, Sparrows, and GBU-12 Paveway IIs—into the aircraft bays. Every motion was deliberate. No one spoke unless necessary.
Emilie stood with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed as she stared at the Tomcats. Her silence was louder than the ocean.
Behind her, Mualani leaned toward Mona.
"Looks like she's still clouded by everything," she murmured.
Mona nodded slowly, exhaling. "We all are. We survived… but out there, to everyone else—we're already dead."
Ayaka joined in quietly. "To our families… we don't exist anymore."
She turned to Mualani. "What about you? Anyone back home who knows?"
Mualani shook her head. "Not me. Nobody knows I'm flying with this unit."
Ayaka gave a thoughtful nod, then gently changed the subject. "You're from Natlan, right?"
"Yeah. I was in the reserves for years. Ended up flying with the Fontaine Air Force through a joint collaboration."
Ayaka offered a half-smile. "Well, look at us now. Caught in something none of us asked for."
Mona chimed in, her tone lighter. "So… what happens after the war?"
Mualani tapped her chin, thoughtful. "I've always loved surfing. Maybe I'll go pro. Enter some competitions—ride waves instead of radar signatures."
She turned to Ayaka. "What about you?"
Ayaka glanced toward the stars. "Not sure yet. But… the world is big. There are opportunities. I'll find something."
Then Mualani looked at Mona. "And you?"
Mona gave a small smile. "I always wanted to be an astrologist. I even went to college for it before enlisting. Maybe I'll try to join Mondstadt's space program. See what's out there—past the sky."
The three turned to Emilie, still facing the jets.
Emilie glanced back over her shoulder. "...What?"
Mualani smirked, arms crossed. "Come on, Emilie. I know you've been listening while brooding over our birds."
Mona gave her a teasing nudge. "What's your plan? You've got one, right?"
Emilie sighed and turned to face them. "Well… Mona, remember back at Petrichor? That thing I didn't tell you?"
"You said it was 'kinda weird,'" Mona recalled, raising an eyebrow.
Emilie nodded. "Yeah… it's about fragrances."
Ayaka snapped her fingers. "Perfume?"
"Exactly," Emilie said, a smile tugging at her lips. "After all this, I want to open a small perfume boutique in Charybdis. I've got a plot of land next to my house. Thought I'd turn it into something peaceful. Just relax for once."
Mona's eyes lit up. "Wait—that's why you disappeared that night after we defended Marcotte! You left and didn't come back until morning!"
Emilie scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. "Y-Yeah. I bunked at home that night. Figured I'd rest properly for once."
Ayaka groaned. "You didn't even tell us! What about me and Teppei?"
Emilie laughed. "What, and end up with three starving friends showing up at my door? I already gave most of my supplies to my parents before I transferred to Petrichor. Had a friend watching the house while I was away."
Ayaka raised a hand like a student. "Okay, but... takeout?"
They all laughed, their voices breaking through the heavy night for a moment, a rare sound of warmth.
Then footsteps approached. Captain Gracie, President Imena, and Kaeya walked across the deck toward them.
Gracie clapped her hands together. "Alright, listen up! We've got new intel. Briefing starts here—no time to waste."
She turned and called out to the deck crew. "All personnel—get the catapults ready! Standby for aircraft launch!"
The ground crew rushed to their stations, securing final checks, prepping the launch rails.
Kaeya stepped forward, holding a stack of stapled documents.
"Here's the situation," he began. "We've received fresh intel—this time from the Snezhnayan 8th Air Division, 22nd Unit: Grimhound Squadron.
Two of their pilots—callsigns 'Knave' and 'Tsaritsa'—hit that mining facility fifteen years ago. That's the same one where enemy forces tried to stage an uprising against their home base at North Dornman.
Turns out that so-called 'Veltrheim Mining Facility' isn't just for digging ore. It's a disguised air base—and worse, it's a full-scale munitions factory. The tunnel shown in recon Image Three? That's the main shaft into the facility. Inside that mountain is where they're building the weapons."
Imena stepped forward, her voice firm.
"Your mission is simple. Seal that tunnel. Destroy the entrance to the mine—permanently. We can't risk another MIRV getting out. Bury whatever they're making in there. No more weapons of mass destruction. Not now. Not ever."
Kaeya gave a solemn nod. "You'll be going in with a standard four-ship formation."
Gracie took a step forward, gaze sharp.
"Good luck out there."
The four pilots grabbed their helmets from the deck beside their boots and moved toward their F-14A Tomcats.
Emilie stepped up to her jet, the black skin of the aircraft shimmering slightly under the carrier lights. She climbed the ladder with practiced ease, boots clanking on metal rungs, and slid into the cockpit.
She settled into the ejection seat and began the startup sequence.
Altimeter from STBY to RESET. The display flickered, then went dark—recalibrating. She aligned the analog standby attitude indicator with a single press.
Her fingers moved with quiet precision. Power on: VDI, HUD, HSD/ECM. Screens lit up, humming alive. She rotated the air source selector to BOTH ENG and reached back for the oxygen supply switch. A faint hiss followed.
UHF radio: GUARD and BOTH. TACAN: T/R. She flicked on the AFCS—pitch, roll, yaw. Flight surfaces twitched under the deck lights.
All systems green.
She buckled the harness, tightened the chin strap on her helmet, and pulled the canopy down. A heavy hiss and clunk sealed her inside, muting the world beyond the glass.
Time to bring the beast to life.
She flipped the start switch for engine No. 2. The turbine began to spool.
At 25% RPM, she moved the throttle from CUTOFF to IDLE. Fuel flowed. FF and TIT surged. A deep roar filled the fuselage.
She repeated the process for engine No. 1. Another rising howl. The TF30s came alive—growling in tandem.
She looked out to her left and signaled.
Two deck crew moved in. One disconnected the external air beneath the left gear; the other pulled the ground power from under the nose. A clank, a nod, a thumbs-up. They stepped back.
Her headset crackled with radio chatter.
"Emberhowl One and Two, take Catapults Two and One. Emberhowl Three and Four, aft catapults!"
"Prepare for simultaneous catapult launches!"
"Catapult pressure rising—we're set!"
Emilie keyed her mic. "Callsign check."
One by one, the replies came through:
"Starseer, checking in."
"Tempest, ready to roll."
"Soumetsu, loud and clear."
Emilie nodded. "Perfect."
The crew returned her salute. She raised her hand and saluted back, then released the parking brake. Her Tomcat began to taxi.
With a steady hand, she rolled toward the starboard catapult at the bow. Mona followed off her left, her own jet trundling forward with equal purpose.
The crew ahead motioned her forward. Nosewheel aligned. Slow roll. Hands raised—halt.
Brakes set.
Launch bar signal.
Emilie flipped the switch. The nosewheel dropped, extending the launch bar into the shuttle track.
Then came the signal—extend wings.
She reached to the wing sweep lever, pushed it forward. With a hydraulic hum, the wings stretched wide. A press of the Master Reset rearmed the auto sweep system.
Crewmen locked the launch bar into the shuttle.
"Raise the barriers!"
Final checks. Emilie rolled the stick slowly in circles. Tapped the rudder pedals. Everything smooth. Control surfaces responded.
A thumbs-up flashed from the crew. All clear.
Then the call:
"Raven, you're cleared for takeoff."
Emilie's voice was calm. Focused.
"Roger that."
She placed her right hand on the glare shield, returned the salute, then rammed both throttles forward into full afterburner.
The engines howled.
The catapult launched.
She was slammed into the seat, the jet surging forward in a thunderous blast—then, in a rush, the carrier vanished behind her.
Airborne.
She pulled gently on the stick, felt the lift settle. Reached for the gear handle.
Thud.
Gear up. Locked.
Her radio crackled.
"Emberhowl One, away."
Seconds later—
"Emberhowl Two, away."
Then—
"Emberhowl Three, away."
Finally—
"Emberhowl Four, away."
"All aircraft launched! Good luck out there!"
The four Tomcats formed up in a tight V. Wings leveled. Throttles steady.
They turned north.
Toward Khaenri'ah.
Toward the mountains.
Toward the mine.
This time—
They were going in together.
As a team.
Hours Later...
The four F-14A Tomcats cruised low—just 1,000 feet AGL—in tight diamond formation, their wings spread and level as they skimmed above the rugged terrain below.
The radio crackled again.
Ayaka's voice came through, tinged with casual optimism.
"Today's got to be easier, right? No radars to worry about this time."
Emilie sighed audibly.
"No. Don't get cocky, Ayaka."
Ayaka exhaled, conceding the point.
"Right. I should know better."
They continued flying northward, toward the old airfield and the mine entrance nestled in the mountain's shadow.
Ayaka glanced down at the terrain below, voice softening.
"I still can't believe you flew here all alone before, Emilie... Just thinking about all the nukes buried and built around this place... it's... chilling."
Mona nodded quietly.
"Yeah..."
Then Mualani's voice cut in, edged with frustration and conviction.
"Those nukes are exactly why the Khaenri'ahns have resorted to snooping and subversion—enough to pit a unified nation against itself. Give any country enough weapons, and they'll start thinking they're the goddamn powerhouse of the world."
Emilie nodded in agreement, her tone sharp.
"Exactly. It fucking baffles me how people can delude themselves like this... to think they can control the very weapons that nuked six of their own cities. And let's not forget—the one that almost hit Dornman Port..."
Mona sighed again, the fatigue in her voice clear.
"I'm tired of seeing all this hatred... everywhere we go.
We can't let these nukes reach the battlefield and fuel this fire.
And I won't... Let. That. Happen."
A new voice came through the comms.
Kaeya.
"Kaeya to Emilie. Gotta ask you—how's it feel, flying with your teammates?"
Emilie chuckled softly.
"You kidding me? Of course it feels great. I wouldn't be here without them. It's always a team effort, Kaeya."
Kaeya's voice carried a nostalgic tone.
"Ah... I wish I knew that feeling, kid. Back then, I had to fly alone most of the time—especially against my own nation... against my own blood."
He paused.
"But you? Look at you now. You've got your friends—all of them."
Emilie's voice dropped to a murmur.
"Yeah... It would've been even better if we were five..."
Kaeya's voice softened.
"I know that pain, Emilie. I know what it means to lose someone up there.
But look around you. The ones left? They're here to lift your spirit.
And the ones we lost... they gave everything for the nation."
He paused, then added with quiet conviction:
"If Teppei were here now... he'd be proud of all of you."
Emilie bowed her head slightly in the cockpit. A solemn silence passed before she slowly lifted her gaze to the horizon.
Right on cue, she keyed her mic.
"Heads up, people. Airfield's in sight. Arm your GBUs. Single file—space out for the bombing run!"
The other three Tomcats peeled back, spacing themselves to allow for a clean, staggered strike.
The formation banked slightly right, angling in toward the mountain—toward the mine entrance hidden at its base.
This time...
They would strike as one.
Then...
Klaxons blared in the distance.
An enemy frequency crackled to life on their intercept channel.
"Alert! Four black F-14As inbound to the airbase!"
"What!? You're only seeing them now? It's dark out!"
"Radars are down at this time! And they blend in with the night sky!"
Right on cue, a searchlight snapped on—its beam locking onto Emilie's Tomcat.
She narrowed her eyes and smirked.
"That's it. See who we really are."
The beam swept across the formation, catching each of the four black-painted F-14As in turn.
Then, more chatter from the enemy frequency.
"They're all carrying an emblem I've never seen before!"
"Describe it to me!"
"Uh... shield-shaped. There's a male figure clad in an open-faced knight's helmet... huge wings unfurled behind him. Black hair swept back like a storm. There's text too, but... I can't read it!"
Right on cue, Emilie keyed her radio.
"Everyone—attack!"
She pushed her throttle to military power. Her F-14A surged forward into a shallow dive.
With a flick of her thumb, she selected her special weapons: GBU-12 Paveway II laser-guided bombs.
Aligning her HUD, she adjusted pitch, eyes locked on the targeting reticle now set over the mine entrance carved into the base of the mountain.
Then—
She squeezed and held the trigger.
Six GBU-12s dropped cleanly from the Tomcat's belly. Her aircraft kicked upward slightly from the weight loss.
She slammed her throttles forward into full afterburner, the twin engines howling as she pulled into a steep climb.
A massive explosion thundered behind her—fire and debris erupting from the target zone.
Mona's voice crackled over the radio.
"Target hit, Emilie! But it'll take serious firepower to trigger a landslide!"
Emilie nodded, already rolling level to provide overwatch.
"Then continue the bombing run! I'll cover you!"
Kaeya's voice followed.
"That rockbed won't collapse easy. Keep hitting it!"
Mona dove next. Calm. Precise.
She leveled her wings and adjusted her pitch.
Then—
She squeezed the trigger.
Six GBU-12s fell away. She broke into a full climb, afterburners blazing.
A second barrage of explosions. Fire rolled through the mouth of the mine.
Chunks of rock began to tumble from the upper ledge.
Mualani came in next.
"My turn! The last blow!"
She dove in hard and fast.
Target acquired.
Six more GBUs dropped.
She yanked the stick back, kicking into afterburner, just as a third set of detonations tore through the cliffside.
Then—
The rockbed gave way.
Boulders the size of trucks broke loose, crashing downward in a tidal wave of stone and earth.
The entrance was swallowed whole.
A thunderous impact echoed across the valley as the debris slammed into the reinforced tunnel structure—crushing it inward.
Silence... then static.
Enemy comms flared again.
"Where are our fighters!?"
"They're still prepping! They were caught off guard—we dragged them from their sleep!"
Another voice—calmer, resigned.
"Leave them. We've already shipped the last warheads... and the Abyss... out."
Kaeya's voice came over the allied channel, firm.
"Mission accomplished, Emberhowl. Come on home."
The four F-14As tightened into formation—wingtip to wingtip—and turned hard south.
Full throttle. Afterburners lit.
They roared away from the burning valley—heading for the southern coast.
Toward Musk Reef.
And back to the carrier.
Ayaka's voice broke the momentary quiet.
"I caught something on their radio just now... they said the last set of nuclear bombs—and the sole remaining Abyss MIRV—have been shipped out."
Three gasps followed in unison.
"Huh!?"
"What!?"
"The fuck!?"
Emilie keyed in, voice tense.
"Kaeya!?"
He sighed, grave but composed.
"No confirmation yet... but we did seal off that munitions factory in the mountain."
The four Tomcats cut through the night sky—exhaust trails glowing faintly in the darkness—as they raced home.
Southbound.
Toward Musk Reef.
Toward the sea.
Hours later...
The four F-14As touched down on the deck of the Carrier Arkhe just as the first light of dawn broke over the sea. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pale blue, but inside the ship, no one had time to appreciate the sunrise.
Inside the Captain's briefing room, just off the bridge, the mood was anything but victorious.
The air was thick. Silent. Tense.
Kaeya stood near the large display screen, arms crossed, his expression grim. He exhaled slowly.
"We intercepted a Khaenri'ahn radio transmission."
He turned to face the others.
"It confirmed the last operational nuclear bomb of Khaenri'ah… and the remaining Abyss MIRV… were shipped out the night before."
Emilie leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.
"How long ago?"
Gracie—her voice subdued—answered from across the table.
"Twenty-three forty-five hours. Yesterday."
Emilie let out a frustrated sigh, raising both hands before slumping back into her chair.
"Goddammit. Now what!?"
Kaeya's voice was low, composed, but edged with frustration.
"Now? We wait. With any luck, Capitolium's listening posts will pick up another transmission. We can't chase shadows without intel."
No one spoke for a moment.
The operation had been a success. The weapons factory was gone. The tunnel was sealed. Dozens of potential warheads never got completed.
But it wasn't enough.
Because somewhere out there…
The last Khaenri'ahn nuclear warhead was still active.
And worse—
The final Abyss MIRV, armed and mobile, had vanished.
Gone into the wind.
Destination? Unknown.
Possession? Unknown.
Intent?
Unknown.
The only ones who knew... were the Khaenri'ahns.
And they weren't talking.