December 23
0805 Hours
Overcast skies
Today's operation wasn't one for the pilots of Emberhowl.
This was Sea Monster Team's op.
Their objective: infiltrate the Mondstadt Presidential Palace, return power to Teyvat, and shatter the enemy's control from within.
On the main deck of the Arkhe, two UH-60 Black Hawks began spooling up, their engines whirring to life under the gray morning clouds. The deck bustled with activity—crewmen in colored jerseys scrambled to guide the helicopters out for launch.
Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, and Mualani stood a safe distance from the spinning rotors, eyes tracking the movement. Nearby, President Imena walked alongside Captain Gracie, commander of the Arkhe.
As they neared the waiting helicopter, Gracie stopped short of the rotors while Imena ducked under, her coat whipping in the wind.
She stepped inside the cabin, then turned to glance back at the group. A determined smile formed on her lips.
"Well, fellas… all or nothing, right?"
With that, she disappeared into the helicopter's interior and took her seat. One of the Sea Monster crew members reached up and slid the cabin door shut with a heavy clunk.
Moments later, the two helicopters lifted off the deck, climbing steadily before pitching forward and speeding off to the west—toward mainland Mondstadt.
As the downwash from their departure dispersed, an officer from the Capitolium approached Gracie, Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, Mualani, and Kaeya, holding a folded slip of paper.
"Ma'ams, Sirs! We just received another cipher. All numbers this time."
Gracie gave a nod. "Hand it to Emilie—she might be able to decode it."
The officer saluted and passed the note to Emilie.
She unfolded it and adjusted her glasses, scanning the line of digits:
1252001800
Emilie tapped the paper. "I get it—it's a frequency and a time."
Gracie tilted her head. "A frequency?"
Emilie nodded. "Yeah. This looks like a radio transmission. And based on the pattern—it's from Candace."
Kaeya raised a brow. "Candace sent this? Why would she do that?"
A knowing smirk tugged at Emilie's lips. "Simple... she wants to brief us. Something big's coming."
Gracie crossed her arms. "Right. You can use the bridge radio room. But hold position until it's time to tune in."
Emilie nodded. "Understood."
Gracie held up a finger. "Break it down for us—what do those numbers mean in plain English?"
Emilie chuckled softly. "125200 means 125.200 MHz. And 1800 is 1800 hours. So—radio transmission at 6 PM."
"Got it," Gracie replied.
Emilie turned to the others. "Right. Meet me in my quarters—we need to piece this puzzle together."
The group nodded and followed her into the island structure of the carrier, heading below deck.
Inside Emilie's quarters, she took her seat at the desk, spinning her chair to face the others. Mona, Ayaka, and Mualani sat on the edge of her bunk, watching closely.
Mona spoke first. "So, where do we start?"
Emilie leaned forward. "Let's start with the declaration of war by Natlan. We now know Khaenri'ahn agents infiltrated high-ranking officials—just look at what happened at Petrichor Island."
Ayaka nodded grimly. "Right. Our exile. Khaenri'ahn operatives manipulated Maksim. Then Maksim manipulated Courbevoie."
Mona pointed. "So does that mean they also influenced the Vice President?"
Emilie shook her head. "Possibly. But nothing's certain. Still... even with the war raging, the Vice President hasn't attempted any kind of ceasefire. No outreach to Natlan, no talks—just silence."
Mualani frowned. "Then what about the Natlan Minister? Could they have kidnapped him?"
Emilie nodded. "Most likely. All we can do now... is wait for Candace's transmission."
Ayaka tapped her chin thoughtfully. "So to summarize this whole mess—Khaenri'ah incited the war, hoping to spark a civil conflict within Teyvat?"
Emilie exhaled slowly. "That's where the evidence points. After losing fifteen years ago, it looks like Khaenri'ah is trying to stir the pot—turn Teyvat on itself, weaken the global superpower, and reclaim the lands they lost. This war is tied to that one… and it's being fueled by a crumbling economy on their end."
Hours Later
1758 Hours
Bridge of the Arkhe – Radio Room
Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, Mualani, Kaeya, Gracie, and Houallet stood in silence inside the radio room. The frequency had already been tuned to 125.200 MHz.
Emilie held the RSM—the Remote Speaker Mic—in hand, eyes locked on the wall clock. Two minutes left.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Then—
1800 Hours.
The RSM crackled to life.
"Hey! It's Candace!"
Emilie keyed in immediately. "Captain!"
Candace chuckled. "Emilie. I figured you'd be the first to jump in."
Her voice turned serious.
"Listen closely. This is important. We've located the Minister of Natlan—Mausau—and broke him out of a Khaenri'ahn-run black site near Tequemecan.
"This war? It wasn't his doing. He was framed.
"Right now, we're lying low near an isolated highway valley. We took over a local radio station to reach out. Our plan is to make a break for Tequemecan Air Force Base. After the collapse of the Natlan capital, loyalist forces retook the base."
She paused.
"But the route there? It's guarded. Two major checkpoints between here and the runway. We're going to need Close Air Support—both air-to-ground and air-to-air.
"I'll make contact again once we hear your jets in the sky."
Emilie keyed in again. "Captain, how will you confirm it's us?"
Candace laughed. "IFF signatures. Don't worry—I'll know it's you."
The transmission cut.
Emilie placed the RSM down with a click.
She turned to the others. "We've got our orders. Let's sortie. Last thing we want is showing up late."
Mona nodded firmly. "Right. We're not letting Candace down."
Ayaka gave a wink. "Exactly!"
The four pilots grabbed their flight helmets from the ready rack and rushed out of the bridge, bolting for the flight deck.
Gracie grabbed the ship's comm mic.
"All deck crews—prepare for aircraft launch!"
The four pilots jogged across the Arkhe's deck, the hum of turbines and the hiss of steam catapults filling the air around them. Their helmets hung in their grip, flight suits zipped, boots pounding metal as they moved toward their aircraft.
Emilie raised her voice over the din.
"Alright, everyone—let's not let Candace down. Time to show them we're not the same rookies we were the last time she saw us!"
Mualani lifted her hand with a half-smile.
"How about me?"
Emilie chuckled without missing a beat.
"Yes, except you, Mualani. You've always been good."
Ayaka raised her hand next, blinking innocently.
"And me?"
Emilie gave a soft sigh as they neared the lineup of jets.
"Candace already knows you. You were still in training back then."
Ayaka blinked. "Oh. Um… right."
The banter faded as they split off—each pilot rushing toward their own F-14A Tomcat.
Emilie reached her jet—her Raven. The matte black Tomcat sat crouched like a predator on the prowl, its paint glinting with oil-slick hues under the deck lights. She climbed the boarding ladder, hand firm on the rail, and dropped into the pilot seat with the practiced grace of combat muscle memory.
The cockpit welcomed her with the familiar scent of scorched metal, oil, and JP-5 fuel. It was a smell that never left—the essence of flight, of war.
She snapped her harness into place and got to work.
Pre-start checks.
Altimeter: from STBY to RESET.
Attitude indicator: aligned and centered.
Power systems: VDI, HUD, HSD, ECM—all indicators green.
Oxygen: test—flow confirmed, audible hiss.
AFCS: full response on pitch, roll, and yaw.
UHF radio: set to GUARD and BOTH.
TACAN: T/R, tuned.
Canopy: sealed with a hydraulic hiss and a metallic lock.
She reached forward and flipped the engine start switch for Engine No. 2.
The turbine began to spool, a rising mechanical whine winding up behind her. At 25% RPM, she advanced the throttle from CUTOFF to IDLE. The combustion chamber lit with a sudden whoosh—engine alive.
Then came Engine No. 1. Same procedure.
Twin TF30s howled behind her, thunderous and alive, hungry for the sky.
On the deck, ground crew swarmed. One pulled the external air line, another unplugged the GPU. A thumbs-up flashed in the dim light.
She returned it.
"Emberhowl One and Two, proceed to Catapults Two and One.
Emberhowl Three and Four, take the aft catapults. Prepare for simultaneous launch."
Emilie keyed her mic.
"Copy. Let's get this done. We've got a captain… and a minister to save."
She released the brakes and eased forward, following the marshal's glowing wands. The deck rumbled beneath her as she taxied into launch position.
Her Tomcat snapped into place over Catapult Two. She flipped the launch bar switch—nose dipped as the bar locked into the shuttle.
She toggled wing sweep to manual, extending the wings to full span. A deep mechanical whirrr-clunk filled the cockpit.
One last control check—stick movement, rudder, ailerons—clean and responsive. She pressed the Master Reset.
Then came the call:
"Raven, you are cleared for takeoff."
Emilie raised her gloved hand in salute. The crewman standing on the catapult track returned it crisply, then stepped away.
She shoved both throttles to the stops—full afterburner.
The TF30s lit up like twin blowtorches. The cockpit vibrated with raw power.
A beat—
Then the catapult fired.
She was slammed backward into her seat. A violent jolt. G-forces pinned her spine to the cushion. The Arkhe blurred behind her, the deck vanishing beneath her as the nose lifted cleanly into the air.
She climbed hard into the gray sky.
"Emberhowl One, airborne."
Seconds later:
"Emberhowl Two, airborne."
"Three's up."
"Four's in the air."
Carrier Control responded:
"All aircraft launched. Good luck out there."
The four Tomcats formed up quickly, arcing into a tight V formation. Their afterburners glowed in the overcast sky, leaving jagged contrails in their wake as they thundered southwest.
Toward the border of Natlan, Sumeru, and Fontaine.
Toward Tequemecan.
Toward the battle to end the war.
Hours Later
The sun had long dipped beneath the horizon. Night had crept in quietly, wrapping the landscape in shadow.
Four aircraft flew low—just 550 feet above ground level—skimming over treetops and terrain with precision.
Inside her cockpit, Emilie glanced down at the world rushing past beneath her canopy.
"Candace should be contacting us any moment now…"
Mona's voice responded through the comms, a quiet affirmation.
"Yeah…"
She turned slightly, looking over at Emilie's F-14A Tomcat flying in tight formation.
"Hey, Emilie?"
Emilie tilted her head, eyes darting briefly to Mona's aircraft.
"Yeah?"
Mona sighed.
"Do you think Captain Candace will be happy to see me?"
Emilie nodded firmly.
"Why wouldn't she be?"
Mona shrugged, uncertain.
"I don't know… Maybe because of how I flew back then?"
Emilie exhaled softly.
"You're overthinking it, Megistus. Of course she'll be glad to see you. Hell, you fly better now than ever. You've just got to remember not to let your emotions fly the jet for you."
Mona pressed her lips together, brow furrowing.
"What about the time I got shot down?"
Emilie shook her head slowly.
"That was in the past. You've grown since then. You've sharpened your instincts, your control, your awareness. I've told you this before—leave the ghosts behind. Fly in the now. Keep your head clear and you'll be just fine."
Mona gave a small nod, voice quieter.
"Yeah… I hope you're right."
Then, their radios crackled to life—a whisper at first.
"Hey? Kid? You there?"
Emilie keyed her mic.
"Candace?"
"Yeah, it's us. We've got you on IFF. We're in a vehicle, tucked behind some bushes by the roadside. Resistance units are in position along the route. But… I've got a bad feeling about this."
Candace's tone was serious.
"This is a single access road. And our scouts report two heavily guarded checkpoints ahead."
"As for air traffic? Nothing hostile in the skies—so you've got air superiority. But I wouldn't count on it staying that way."
"One of our people managed to infiltrate the airport and secure a Grumman C-2 Greyhound. We're ready to move on your signal."
Emilie scanned her radar. New IFF signatures—ground contacts. Hostile. Confirmed.
She keyed up again.
"We've got enemy blips. Emberhowl will cover you. Begin the operation."
"That's what I like to hear, Emilie!" Candace replied with a smirk in her voice.
Engines revved as the resistance convoy started moving, headlights off, their vehicles hugging the dark roadside.
Emilie pushed her throttle forward to military power.
"Emberhowl, engage!"
One by one, her squadron called in.
"Starseer, engaging!"
"Tempest, engaging!"
"Soumetsu, engaging!"
Candace's laugh came over the net.
"Alright! This is Tempest! The jailbreak tour starts now!"
Then, a new voice joined the frequency—male, confident.
"I'll be witnessing your bravery from down here, Demons of Emberhowl."
Mona raised an eyebrow.
"Someone else is in the car?"
The man chuckled.
"Yeah. Intelligence officer from Natlan. Call me Mystery Man Number One. Captain Candace's told me all about you four—Raven, Herring… and, uh, what's the third again?"
Mona keyed her mic with a dry tone.
"Megistus. Mona Megistus."
"Ah, that's right. Starseer! Now I remember."
Dead ahead, the first checkpoint loomed—floodlights, fencing, pillboxes, and at least a dozen armed guards.
Emilie switched to her GBU loadout. Her HUD lock lined up the targeting reticle.
She squeezed the trigger.
"Bombs away. Bombs away!"
Enemy radio chatter lit up.
"Vehicle incoming? Who could they be?"
"Spike strips ready! Stop them for identification!"
Then—impact.
An earth-shattering explosion lit up the checkpoint, hurling shrapnel, concrete, and bodies skyward in a column of flame and smoke.
"We're under attack! Bombs from above!?"
A black streak tore through the night sky.
"Black planes!? Could they be—!?"
"THE DEMONS OF EMBERHOWL ARE HERE!"
Mona dove in next, releasing her payload.
"Bombs away!"
Her GBU dropped clean, then she pulled hard on the stick, throttling to full afterburner.
Direct hit.
The pillbox erupted into fire and twisted steel.
"YAHOOO!" Candace whooped. "We're busting through! Outstanding work!"
Her convoy surged through the flaming wreckage, tires screaming across shattered asphalt.
"Megistus, that you up there too?" Candace asked with a grin. "You're still alive and flying like that? I gotta hand it to you."
Mona's eyes widened in her cockpit.
"Th-Thank you, ma'am!"
The mystery man added:
"Diversion—always a good first step in an operation like this."
Candace chuckled.
"And is that you, Ayaka? You know, I was gonna make you the fifth pilot for Wolfsbane back in the day. Looks like you're holding your own just fine."
Ayaka's voice stammered slightly.
"Th-thank you, Captain. I appreciate it!"
Candace then addressed Mualani.
"Captain Mualani of the Fontaine Marine Defense Force? Sorry I didn't say hi earlier—I'm kind of shy, you know."
Mualani chuckled softly.
"It's a privilege to meet you, Candace."
Candace looked out the vehicle's window, watching Emilie's F-14A streak low overhead.
The mystery man nodded toward the jet.
"I'm guessing the pilot of Tomcat 016 is your star student?"
Candace grinned.
"You mean Emilie? Hell yeah. One of the best pilots in Teyvat. And I've been keeping tabs. She's something special. I couldn't be prouder."
Emilie smiled in her cockpit.
"Thank you, Captain."
Candace laughed heartily.
"No need for the formalities anymore, kid. Just call me Candace."
Then, enemy radio chatter buzzed to life again.
"Where are the Demons of Emberhowl!? Their planes are like shadows in the sky!"
"You mean their planes blend with the night sky?"
"NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR JOKES, ASSHOLE!"
Emilie slammed her throttles forward, pulling into a steep climb.
The mystery man smirked.
"Looks like your student's off again."
Candace chuckled.
"That's Emilie for you. Sweet as can be on the ground. Inside that cockpit? She's a damn demon."
Emilie laughed over the comms.
"I hope you mean that in a nice way, Candace!"
"Always!"
Emilie rolled inverted, pulling hard on the stick and diving for the second checkpoint.
She leveled out just above the ground, targeting reticle dead-on.
She triggered the drop.
"Connard de livraison spéciale!"
Her bomb hit the gate dead-center, throwing up a storm of dust, debris, and shattered asphalt.
She banked left, making another pass.
Mualani came screaming in next, diving hard and fast. She released two GBUs mid-pitch, then climbed steeply and broke right.
"Special delivery, boys!"
Both bombs struck—one eviscerated a pillbox, the other obliterated the barracks.
"Great work, everyone!" Candace called. "We're almost at the airport!"
Another voice cut in over the comms.
"Candace! The gates are open! Foot down—go full throttle! The C-2 Greyhound is ready for extraction!"
Then—
Their IFF blinked.
The four F-14As pulled into formation, wingtip to wingtip. A flying V.
Emilie's eyes narrowed.
"It's the 5050th Squadron... F-15S/MTDs."
A familiar voice crackled through the radio.
"Is that really them? I saw them plunge into the ocean... along with Kaeya on my radar..."
Then another:
"It is them, Captain! The Ghosts of Emberhowl! They were the ones that attacked the mines!"
Emilie keyed her radio, tone cold.
"Well, well, well... Captain Haruda. Figured it'd be you. Let's finish this feud—once and for all."
She slammed her throttles forward—full afterburner.
Across the sky, Haruda did the same.
Both aircraft surged forward. Head-on.
Emilie gritted her teeth, locking her eyes on the oncoming fighter.
"Emilie!" Candace's voice burst over the comms. "Stand down! You're gonna crash into them head-on!"
Emilie ignored it.
"Captain! Back off!" Mona shouted.
Still no response.
Her finger tapped the trigger. Waiting for tone.
The two jets screamed toward each other—closer and closer.
Then—
A lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
A Sidewinder streaked from Emilie's rail.
Explosion.
Silence.
"A plane is down!" Ayaka reported.
Then, from the fire and smoke, a black jet punched through—nose high.
"Emberhowl, engage!"
Candace punched the air.
"YAHOOO! THAT'S AN ACE! GO GET 'EM, EMILIE! THEY'RE ALL YOURS!"
"Roger that, Candace!" Emilie barked.
"Don't mind us," Candace added. "We're getting outta here! Focus on the Mechshade!"
The three F-14As split, breaking formation.
The three remaining F-15S/MTDs followed suit, chasing them down.
Mona gritted her teeth, on the tail of one.
The two jets weaved violently across the sky—left, right, climbing and diving.
The enemy pilot keyed up.
"I—I'm impressed. They really are Emberhowl."
Then he yanked the stick, snapping into a vertical climb.
Mona followed, wings groaning under the strain as condensation swept over her jet.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders streaked upward. Mona rolled inverted and nosed down, bleeding speed.
Impact.
Direct hit—engines. The twin tails of the F-15S/MTD shattered. The fighter spun into an unrecoverable flatspin, spiraling down.
The pilot never ejected.
Belly-first impact.
"Starseer, splash!" Mona called out.
Another explosion in the distance.
Ayaka's F-14A burst through the flames.
"Soumetsu's got a bandit!"
But Mualani was dancing—evading missile locks with tight, erratic maneuvers.
Then another enemy pilot's voice crackled with anger:
"Do not make the same mistake as Eclipse! Take them out!"
Emilie's F-14 swooped in behind Mualani, then abruptly broke right.
"Come chase me, fucker! I'm right here!"
Mualani looked back.
"Raven!"
"Don't mind me!" Emilie shouted, yanking into a sharp high-G turn. "I got this!"
She leveled out and began jinking—left, right, up, down—evading the lock.
"Come on! I'm right here! Try and shoot me down!"
Mualani's jaw dropped.
"L-Look at Emilie... the way she flies... It's... it's insane!"
"Yeah..." Mona breathed. "She really is a true ace. In an old-gen fighter, no less."
Ayaka smiled softly.
"Just goes to show... it's not about the plane. It's always about the pilot. Their bond with the machine they command."
Emilie smirked.
"Alright. Time to cut your sorry ass loose."
She flipped the wing sweep cover and extended the wings fully.
Then she pulled the stick back—hard.
The F-14A's nose pitched high into a rapid climb.
She split the throttles:
Left engine to idle.
Right engine to full afterburner.
Then she hit the rear ventral speedbrakes.
Speed bled away instantly.
She kicked the left rudder and rolled hard left.
The F-14A's nose dropped violently—almost into a flatspin.
She equalized throttle just in time, regaining control.
The F-15S/MTD screamed past her—overshoot.
"Gotcha now!"
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders screamed from the rails.
The F-15 tried to break left—
Too late.
Both missiles struck the cockpit—dead center, above the pilot's head.
Explosion.
The front end vaporized. The tail tumbled away, slamming into the base's main building.
"Splash Raven! That's the 5050th gone!" Mualani reported.
Emilie pulled into a climbing aileron roll, then leveled out.
"Yes! Serves you right, you fuckers!"
She descended toward her squadmates, reforming into a tactical element.
Then—an IFF blip.
A C-2 Greyhound.
Candace's callsign.
"We're out and gone!" Candace confirmed.
Another voice broke in:
"Hey, this is Gracie! We're on the move again, heading for Windrise Port. We'll send coordinates of our location!"
Candace let out a low whistle.
"Hey Emilie... you're really one hell of a pilot. Great job up there."
Emilie nodded, breathing steady.
"Thank you, Candace. I appreciate it."
Candace exhaled slowly.
"Taught you well... all three of you."
The four F-14As pulled in behind the Greyhound.
Flying northeast.
Toward the now-moving carrier.
Hours Later
Midnight
The C-2 Greyhound and the four F-14A Tomcats touched down safely on the deck of the Arkhe, now steaming westward toward Windrise Port under a moonlit sky.
Candace stood near the bridge, alongside Minister Mausau of Natlan and a mysterious man in a long coat, clutching a weathered black folder.
She turned toward Houallet, who was recording the scene with a handheld camera. With a small grin, she flashed him a two-finger salute before shifting her gaze toward the parked F-14s near the bow.
Down on the flight deck, Minister Mausau stepped forward and extended a hand.
"Minister Mausau," Gracie greeted with a firm grip, "welcome aboard the Arkhe."
"Thank you, Captain Gracie," Mausau replied, nodding in gratitude.
Candace approached the four pilots—Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, and Mualani—standing together beside their jets, flight suits stained from battle but eyes proud.
Arms crossed, Candace smiled.
"You four were incredible up there. Seeing that battle with my own eyes… It's one thing to hear about it. Another to witness it."
The four nodded in acknowledgment.
She placed a hand on Emilie's shoulder.
"Emilie… I'm proud of you."
Then she looked to Mona and Ayaka.
"You two as well. I trained you to survive out there—and damn it, you did more than just survive."
Candace smirked.
"I taught you well, huh?"
Mona nodded, almost smiling. "Yes, Captain. You did."
Then—
A young officer burst out from the interior stairwell, sprinting across the deck.
"Captain Gracie! Captain!"
Gracie turned, eyebrows raised. "What's going on?"
The officer skidded to a halt, nearly breathless. "We just received word from the Sea Monster crew!"
Everyone turned toward him. Silence blanketed the deck for a moment.
He took a breath.
"We're through! The President is back in office! The Vice President's been ousted!"
The reaction was instant—cheers erupted across the deck.
"YAHOO!"
"Hell yes!"
"That bastard's out!"
"This war's almost done!"
Mona glanced up at the sky, the corners of her lips curling into a small smile.
Then—
Her expression darkened.
A shadow passed over the moon. A massive, unnatural silhouette.
She muttered under her breath, barely audible:
"Orbital Linear Gun…"
Emilie turned toward her. "What?"
Mona's voice was quiet but tense. "The Judgment Fang. That's no satellite. It's an Orbital Linear Gun—blocking the moonlight."
Emilie narrowed her eyes. "Judgment Fang?"
Mona nodded. "It was designed to intercept and destroy asteroids… part of Project Heaven's Spear. Built fifteen years ago. Abandoned just a year later."
Candace turned to the mystery man—Natlan's intelligence officer—who had been silently observing the exchange. Her voice sharpened.
"That folder you're carrying—there's something in there, isn't there? Something about that gun?"
The man didn't speak, but his grip on the folder tightened.
Candace's eyes narrowed. "We'll find out soon."
The Arkhe and its escort fleet pushed onward across the waves, lit only by starlight and the distant glint of the moon obscured by the machine above.
The journey to Windrise Port would take a week—slower than usual, but safe.
The war was nearing its conclusion.
Or was it?