December 16.
1248 Hours.
The skies over Musk Reef were a mess.
Fog wrapped the sea like a shroud. The horizon barely existed. Pockets of dark clouds loomed above—rain wasn't just a threat, it was a promise.
But inside the captain's quarters aboard the Arkhe, four pilots sat quietly—Emilie, Mona, Mualani, and Ayaka. Alongside them stood Kaeya, Imena, and Gracie. The room was dim, the air still.
Kaeya cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
"We intercepted another radio transmission. This one originated from Natlan. Along with it, another cipher. We decoded it—it's a radio frequency."
He pulled a printed map onto the table and tapped a circled zone in red.
"The location is Ameyalco Waters Ravine, far south Natlan."
Mualani stiffened slightly. Her voice wavered.
"Th-That's my home region. Springs City is near there…"
Emilie turned toward her with concern.
"Mualani, if this hits too close to home, I won't make you fly this one."
Mualani shook her head firmly.
"No. We're not attacking Springs City. It's safe—for now. I've flown around Ameyalco Waters Ravine before. I can do this."
Kaeya nodded, then gestured to the map again.
"The ravine is under full coverage of Natlan's air defense systems. Which means one thing—you'll need to stay low. Terrain-hugging. Below the ridgelines at all times.
"Your mission is to recon the area, destroy any hostiles, and when you're over the AO, switch to the frequency decoded from the cipher. Something's there. We just don't know what."
Gracie stepped up.
"Alright, Emberhowl. Sortie. Keep it tight, stay sharp, and let's hope we're one step closer to ending this war."
The four pilots stood. No words. They picked up their helmets and exited the briefing room with quiet determination.
Gracie glanced at Kaeya as the door shut behind them.
"I know that look, Kaeya. Something's got you pacing inside."
Kaeya exhaled.
"Yeah. I've got a hunch… That Abyss warhead? They're planning something. I can feel it. But I can't see the endgame yet."
Flight Deck – Below Hangar, Carrier Arkhe
Below deck, the hangar was already alive with motion. Their F-14A Tomcats stood ready near the elevators. Maintenance crews performed final checks. The dull echo of tools clinking on metal filled the cavernous space.
The pilots split off toward their birds.
Emilie climbed the ladder and slid into her seat. The cockpit greeted her like an old friend—cold, silent, waiting.
She moved through her startup sequence:
Altimeter: STBY to RESET.
Standby Attitude Indicator aligned.
Power switches: VDI, HUD, HSD/ECM—flipped on.
Displays flickered to life.
She set the air source selector to BOTH ENG and toggled oxygen. The soft hiss filled her helmet. UHF radio—set to GUARD and BOTH. TACAN to T/R.
AFCS: Pitch, roll, yaw—green.
Final checks complete.
She strapped in, secured her chin strap, and lowered the canopy. A heavy clunk, then silence—sealed in a steel coffin built for war.
Engine start:
No. 2 spooled up.
25% RPM—throttle to IDLE.
FF and TIT surged—ignition.
No. 1 followed. Another burst of combustion.
The TF30s howled to life beneath her. Ready.
Emilie signaled the ground crew.
Two technicians moved fast—disconnecting external air and ground power. Panels shut. Thumbs up.
The elevator platform beneath her began to rise, lifting the Tomcat toward the overcast sky.
Her headset came alive.
"Catapult pressures rising! Ready for launch!"
"Deck crew to stations—let's get our ghosts airborne!"
Steam hissed around her as the first two F-14s launched in quick succession, blurring into the mist.
Emilie advanced the wing sweep lever—wings extended. Then reset to AUTO.
She eased forward to the catapult, guided by yellow-shirted crew. Nosewheel aligned. She halted.
Launch bar—lowered. It locked into the shuttle.
"Raise the barriers!"
She tested her controls—stick and pedals. Everything responded smooth as silk.
The final clearance came.
"Raven, you are cleared for launch."
"Roger that."
She returned the salute, hand on the dash—then shoved the throttles into full afterburner.
The engines screamed.
Catapult fired.
G-force crushed her into her seat. A blur of motion.
Then lift.
The sea dropped away.
Gear up. Locked.
Her radio crackled.
"Raven, altitude restriction lifted. Proceed to mission area. Good hunting."
Ahead, the first two F-14s slowed, allowing her to rejoin formation.
She slid in smoothly, taking the lead.
Then, in perfect sync, the four Tomcats banked left—cutting through the fog like phantoms.
Heading southwest.
Back toward Natlan.
Back to where it all began.
Hours Later
Four F-14A Tomcats thundered low through the jagged valley of the Ameyalco Waters Ravine, their engines roaring as they sliced between the cliffs. The formation was tight—Flying V, wingtip to wingtip, holding steady just above the water.
In the lead, Emilie keyed her radio.
"Emberhowl, jettison your drop tank pods. Switch to the decrypted frequency—118.800."
She reached down and flipped the jettison switch.
With a series of hollow clunks, the drop tanks detached from the bellies of the fighters, plunging into the water below with heavy splashes.
Emilie adjusted her UHF1, tuning it to the new frequency.
Right on cue, a voice came through.
"Oh wow! Fighters! You actually came!"
Emilie's eyes widened. She blinked rapidly.
"What the fu—H-How...?"
The voice chuckled lightly.
"I can detect enemy alert signals too. Can you four hear me?"
The others came in quick.
"Yeah." – Mona
"Loud and clear." – Mualani
"Yes, sir." – Ayaka
Mona followed up.
"Identify yourself, please."
The voice answered without hesitation.
"We're a group of Natlan citizens—students, intellectuals, civilians—staging a resistance against the military regime.
You can call me Tenoch. Not my real name, obviously.
But we're glad you're here. Just like she said you would be."
Emilie raised an eyebrow.
"She?"
"I'll explain later. No time. Right now, we're in the middle of deactivating a nuclear device.
It's not large-scale, more like a tactical warhead. We seized it from a downed transport that crashed in this ravine."
"We just need you to keep enemy forces away from our position. We've got a nuclear research institute grad disarming it as we speak. Once it's dismantled, we'll scatter the parts across the ocean."
Emilie nodded, steady and sharp.
"Roger that, Tenoch. You can count on us."
The ravine ahead split into two paths.
Emilie keyed her mic again.
"Okay—Tempest, Soumetsu—you go right. Starseer and I will take the left."
"Acknowledged." – Mualani
"Understood, Raven." – Ayaka
The formation split with precision. Two Tomcats veered right, the others banking left to follow the branching ravine.
As Emilie and Mona followed the narrow gorge, a crackle came through the radio—it was Mualani.
"This is the perfect test of our flying skills!"
Ayaka added hesitantly,
"Uhh... I guess? But Raven, doesn't this ravine feel a little too narrow for safe operations?"
Emilie scoffed, grinning.
"Oh come on, Soumetsu. You're overthinking it. It's fine."
Ayaka sighed.
"Maybe you're fine. But... I don't know..."
They banked sharply as the canyon twisted again—then Emilie's IFF spiked.
Enemy contacts. Multiple.
Small gunboats below. AH-64 Apaches circling above.
Emilie's HUD locked two targets instantly. She gritted her teeth and squeezed the trigger.
TONE
"Fox Two!"
Two AIM-9 Sidewinders screamed off the rails, their smoke trails streaking into the sky.
Splash.
Boom.
The first missile tore into a gunboat—obliterating it. The second clipped the Apache's tail, severing it. The chopper spiraled wildly before slamming into the canyon floor in a fireball.
Mona keyed up.
"Splash two, Raven."
Tenoch's voice returned.
"The bomb's small—too small to level a whole city. It's definitely a tactical nuke."
Emilie replied flatly.
"Tactical or not, it'll still flatten a block if it goes off. Enough to do real damage."
The path forked again. Emilie and Mona split at the junction, each taking a different branch. More Apaches and boats peppered the ravine. Emilie dove into the fight, flaring and twisting, Sidewinders and cannon rounds tearing through the enemies.
Then—panic on the net.
"Whoa, whoa! The trigger circuit! It's powering on!"
Ayaka's voice cracked.
"Wh-What!? Is it gonna—!?"
A pause. Then a sigh of relief.
Tenoch came back on.
"We're good. Tripped it by accident... but it's under control now."
Ayaka exhaled hard.
"Archons Almighty..."
Meanwhile, Mualani and Ayaka pushed deeper into their section of the ravine—mostly Apaches. The two handled them with cold precision.
Mualani laughed.
"Seems like a piece of cake on this side. Mostly helos."
Mona sighed over the comms.
"You tell me. I'm stuck dealing with boats."
Emilie chuckled.
"If that blockhead of an AWACS were here, he'd be yelling 'Cut the chatter!' right about now. Honestly, kinda glad he's not."
Suddenly, enemy chatter bled over the frequency.
"Where are they?! They have to be here!"
"Keep sweeping. We're special forces—we'll find them eventually."
"Even if we are spec ops, this feels like a goddamn wild goose chase. Capital's fallen, and here we are playing search party in a ravine... over rumors of a resistance!"
Unbothered, the four pilots pressed on—blazing a trail of destruction as they weaved through the canyon's twists. Occasionally, their paths would cross in blurred flashes of wings and jetwash.
Then—another shout, but not from the enemy.
"Whoa whoa! My hand's slipping! Hold onto it!!!"
Mualani's voice snapped in.
"What the hell?! Answer me! What's happening?!"
Tenoch's voice returned, breathless.
"We're okay! We caught it—barely. Heh."
Mualani exhaled sharply.
"Damn it, guys... Get a grip. Literally."
But then—
Escalation.
Four Su-30 Flankers dropped from high altitude and knifed through the clouds, descending fast into the ravine like birds of prey.
Another Khaenri'ahn aggressor squadron.
Eclipse Squadron.
The comms sparked to life.
"This is Eclipse Two to Eclipse One. Are you sure it's them?"
"Yes... It's them. The Ghosts of Emberhowl. Mechshade Squadron warned us about them."
"You're shitting me. I thought they were dead—sank to the bottom. Didn't Mechshade say that too?"
"Doesn't matter. Let's find out if they're really demons."
The four Su-30s pushed into the ravine at full throttle, afterburners igniting behind them.
Ayaka's voice came through the squadron net.
"What the...? These are fighters we haven't seen before!"
Emilie's tone cut in, sharp.
"Doesn't matter. They're Khaenri'ahn.
Engage."
She slammed her throttles forward—full afterburners roaring—as she surged toward the intersection. Her jet banked hard left, wings flexing as she rolled into the chase.
Two Su-30s ahead. Fast. Agile. But Emilie was locked in.
She jinked left and right, weaving through the narrow valleys in pursuit. The G-forces slammed her into the seat as her F-14A cut between canyon walls, keeping the Flankers in sight.
Then the Khaenri'ahn comms bled through the airwaves.
"Eclipse Squadron! Disengage! The ravine's too tight—it's suicide flying down here!"
Another voice followed, calm and cold.
"This is not an obstacle. Not for a Khaenri'ahn fighting squadron."
One Su-30 leveled off, trying to break away.
Emilie's eyes narrowed.
"Gotcha."
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
Twin Sidewinders shrieked off the rails, trails of smoke slicing through the canyon.
Both missiles struck true.
The Su-30 exploded in a fireball, cartwheeling before smashing into the rocks below.
"Shit! Eclipse Four is down!"
Another enemy voice crackled in disbelief.
"Do you see those jet-black F-14As?"
"Yeah... Jet black. But I've never seen that emblem. Are they even from Teyvat?"
"Doesn't look like it. Not standard Teyvat scheme. And the markings—hell, that 016 on the nose—who are they?"
"Whoever they are... they're ripping Eclipse apart."
"Wait a second... there's only one squadron that could go toe-to-toe with Eclipse. And Mechshade."
"...Yeah. Emberhowl."
Then one of the Khaenri'ahn pilots opened the wideband channel, voice low and measured.
"Are you... the Demons of Emberhowl?"
Emilie grinned beneath her oxygen mask.
"...Yes."
Fox Two.
Two more Sidewinders lanced outward.
"Heh. Then I'll turn this place into a demon's graveya—"
Static.
An explosion lit the sky.
Another Flanker shredded in midair, torn apart by the missile's impact.
From above, distant booms echoed through the canyon.
Mualani's voice chimed in, urgent but calm.
"Tempest to Raven. Me and Soumetsu just splashed the last Su-30s."
Emilie nodded inside her cockpit, eyes scanning the skies.
"Outstanding work, Tempest and Soumetsu."
Then a familiar voice joined the net—Tenoch, his tone light but resolute.
"We're done here too. Warhead's been disabled and disassembled. We're dumping the components miles apart in the ocean. No one's ever going to use this WMD again.
Oh, and... surprise. Our ship? It's a submarine.
We've got access to just about anything, thanks to our allies."
The four F-14As regrouped, forming up into a tight Flying V formation as they climbed out of the ravine, their black silhouettes gleaming in the sunset.
Emilie clicked her mic again.
"But who told you we were coming here?"
On the other end, Tenoch paused for a moment.
"I don't know her name... but she left a message for someone named Raven."
Emilie blinked.
Tenoch continued.
"Message says: 'Hey Raven. I hear you're one helluva squadron captain now.'
Does that mean anything to you?"
A beat of silence.
Then Mona's voice broke through, her tone trembling slightly.
"Y-Yes! We know exactly who it is!"
Emilie's breath caught.
She whispered into the mic, soft but firm.
"...Candace."
The formation leveled off, the four F-14As climbing together into the high atmosphere, contrails streaming behind them as they cleared the combat zone.
Tenoch came back one last time.
Tenoch: "Thanks for the help. Hopefully we see you soon. Let's end this war."
Raven: "We will, Tenoch. Stay safe out there."
The jet-black F-14A Tomcats punched through the cloud layer, angling northeast.
Heading home.
Back to Musk Reef.
Back to the carrier Arkhe, and the fleet that awaited them.
Hours Later…
The sun had begun to set.
The four F-14A Tomcats landed safely aboard the Arkhe. Their black-painted frames caught the orange and red glint of twilight as they rolled down the deck. One by one, the aircraft were shut down, crews rushing in to tie them down against the wind.
Under the looming shadow of the carrier's island superstructure, Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, and Mualani stood in a loose formation, still in their flight suits. Kaeya and Gracie approached them for the mission debrief.
Kaeya began with a calm but serious tone.
"So… what did you find?"
Emilie crossed her arms. "We've confirmed there's an organized resistance within Natlan. Dozens, maybe hundreds of citizens involved—possibly even officials. They had access to a submarine. That kind of asset doesn't show up out of nowhere."
Ayaka gave a slight nod. "And the nuclear device they found? It was being transported when its plane crashed into the ravine. Which means the Abyss is still trying to move weapons of mass destruction under our radar."
Gracie's expression tightened. "Anything else?"
Mona stepped forward. "We received a personal message—through one of the resistance members. His name was Tenoch. The message was meant for Emilie. He said, and I quote: 'Hey Raven. I hear you're one helluva squadron captain now.'"
Emilie gave a small nod. "I believe… it was from Captain Candace."
Kaeya's brows lifted. "That's good news. If she's alive out there... then maybe not everything's lost."
Gracie raised a cautious finger. "But we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. It could be someone impersonating her."
Kaeya nodded slowly. "Fair. Let's not jump to conclusions."
He turned toward the pilots, his expression shifting.
"We also received another transmission from the Capitolium while you were out. This one was encrypted—again in Khaenri'ahn. The bastards changed the cipher, slowed us down, but Gracie cracked it."
Gracie stepped forward, holding a clipboard with printed sheets.
"It was another coded message. We believe it's a warning, possibly from an insider again. It read: 'N Attack by A-SAT on Natlan's Stadium of the Sacred to commence at 1430 Hours.' We're still working on the last part of the cipher—trying to confirm the date."
Emilie raised a hand, stopping her. "No need. I can decode that."
Everyone turned to her.
Emilie continued, voice calm but assertive. "'N Attack on A-SAT' means a non-kinetic strike—likely electronic or cyber—targeting an anti-satellite system. That system… is the Skywarden. Looks like Khaenri'ah secretly repaired Teyvat's low-orbiting spacecraft. That's what they've been trying to deploy."
Gracie quickly flipped through the papers. "Wait—yes. Here—'12191430.' That's the timestamp. 1430 hours on December 19th."
Emilie nodded. "Then that's the day they're planning to destroy Natlan's stadium."
Gracie sighed in relief. "Thank god someone here can read those damned ciphers faster than a machine…"
Emilie offered a faint smile. "It helps when you've been staring at Khaenri'ahn code for months."
Kaeya gave a nod of approval. "Alright. That's enough for today. You've all earned some rest."
The four pilots nodded, offering brief salutes before turning away, stepping back into the Arkhe's structure. The hallways were dim, lit only by red night-lights.
In her quarters, Emilie closed the door behind her with a quiet click. She set her flight helmet down on the desk, the dark visor catching the dim light. Her glasses followed. She took a deep breath and stepped toward her bunk, collapsing onto the mattress.
She stared up at the ceiling, her voice barely a whisper.
"…Man… When will this end…"
The war had taken a new turn.
It had started as a civil conflict—Teyvat against Natlan.
But now, something far deeper had revealed itself.
It was no longer just a war between nations.
It had become a war against a phantom force.
A war against the shadows of the past.
Against the unseen hands of Khaenri'ah.