That evening at Petrichor Air Force Base, the crew lounge was alive with chatter, the occasional clink of bottles, and the low hum of music playing from a corner radio.
Emilie, Teppei, Mona, and Houallet had taken up one of the tables, unwinding after another long day.
At their table, Emilie and Mona clinked their beer bottles together before taking a sip.
Mona set her bottle down, glancing at Emilie with mild curiosity.
"Say, Emilie. I oughta know more about you."
Emilie chuckled, swirling the bottle in her hand.
"Same here, Mona."
Mona leaned forward slightly.
"Are you the first in your family to become an Air Force pilot?"
Emilie nodded, setting her bottle down.
"That's right. My father works for the Marechaussee Phantom with the Maison Gardiennage, and my mother's in forensic medicine."
Mona's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"So, basically, your parents are with Fontaine's police force?"
"Sounds about right," Emilie replied, leaning back against her chair.
Mona nodded before answering in turn.
"Well… my parents are both from Mondstadt, originally from Dornman Port. A few months before I was born, they moved to Mondstadt City. That's where I grew up. I'm the first in my family to join the military—Air Force or otherwise."
Emilie listened as Mona continued.
"I trained in Mondstadt before spending a year and a half in the reserves. Then, a spot opened up in the Fontaine Air Force, and I took it."
Mona spread her arms dramatically.
"And here I am." She chuckled.
Emilie nodded. "Well, at least you made it here."
Mona smirked. "And what about your interests?"
Emilie tilted her head slightly. "Interests?"
Mona glanced around the room before smiling.
"I've always been interested in the stars."
"The stars?" Emilie echoed.
Mona shook her head with a soft laugh.
"Astronomy, more specifically astrology. I've always wanted to explore space. As a kid, I'd read all the astrology works of Barbeloth." She scoffed, amused. "Matter of fact, that's why my last name is Megistus—my parents were just as fascinated by Barbeloth's studies."
She leaned forward slightly.
"What about you, Emilie?"
Emilie blinked, caught off guard.
"Me? I… uh…" She hesitated before rubbing the back of her neck. "Well… it's kind of weird. Best if I don't say it." She laughed awkwardly.
Mona chuckled. "Fine by me."
They clinked bottles again, sipping their drinks and sharing a laugh.
Across the room, Teppei dropped onto the couch beside Houallet, arms stretched over the cushions.
Houallet was the first to break the silence.
"Say, who's leading the flight tomorrow?"
Teppei let out a short chuckle, shaking his head.
"Who's leading tomorrow?" He stretched. "I'd say Emilie, but honestly… does it really matter?"
He relaxed into the couch, adjusting his headphones slightly before smirking.
"You oughta know by now, Houallet. We're an auxiliary squadron." He tapped the side of his head knowingly. "The royal highness, the Lieutenant Colonel, is coming down here anyway. All the way from mainland Fontaine."
He adjusted his headphones again, letting the music play.
"Man, I love this sound," he said, nodding to the beat. "I'm gonna sleep like a damn baby tonight."
Houallet leaned forward slightly.
"And what about Natlan? We were allies fifteen years ago, right?"
Teppei straightened slightly.
"That's right. Did my history homework." His tone shifted, more serious now. "And the base commander isn't exactly subtle with pointing fingers over what happened…"
He cleared his throat before mimicking the commander's gruff voice.
"'Is there any suspicion about Captain Candace's behavior?'" He scoffed. "I'm more worried about the damn screw that's loose in his head."
Just as he leaned back into the couch—
The air raid siren blared across the base.
The laughter and casual conversations in the lounge froze. Every pilot's head turned toward the loudspeakers.
Teppei groaned, letting himself slump sideways against the couch dramatically.
"You've gotta be shitting me! An air raid!?" He threw his arms up. "Come on, man! Give me a break!"
Meanwhile, Emilie and Mona had already zipped up their flight suits and were rushing toward the apron.
With an exaggerated sigh, Teppei dragged himself up from the couch and sprinted after them.
The base was in chaos.
Enemy bombers and fighters tore through the sky, their silhouettes illuminated by the glow of burning aircraft and explosions. The wail of air raid sirens mixed with the roar of engines and the distant chatter of gunfire. Ground crews scrambled to get remaining aircraft airborne while air defense units fired tracers into the night sky.
Emilie sprinted toward the lineup of F-5 Tiger IIs on the taxiway, heart pounding. She threw herself up the ladder and into the ejection seat, yanking the harness over her shoulders and securing her helmet before slamming the canopy shut. The ground crew wasted no time, yanking the stairs away as she started her preflight.
Her F-5 sat behind Teppei's, engines already whirring to life. She flipped the right engine start switch, listening to the turbine spool up.
The engine roared—but then sputtered.
She snapped her gaze to the instruments. EGT dropping. N2 dropping.
"Come on, come on, come on!" she growled, slamming her palm against the dashboard.
For a moment, nothing.
Then the engine caught, its whine stabilizing into a full-throated howl.
"These turbines are gonna be the death of me," she muttered before hitting the left engine start. This time, it spooled up without issue.
She glanced up just in time to see Teppei's Tiger II taxiing out.
Then a deafening roar.
An F-14A Tomcat spun wildly out of control, flames trailing from its fuselage as it plunged toward the ramp.
"Shit!"
The Tomcat slammed belly-first into a parked F-5, erupting into a fireball. The blast wave rocked Emilie's jet, rattling the canopy.
"Archons almighty," she breathed, disengaging the parking brake and throttling forward.
As she taxied, her radio crackled to life.
"This is the control tower! All aircraft, priority departure! Cancel all altitude restrictions on climb! Defend the base at all costs!"
She shoved the throttles forward, following Teppei and Mona as they lined up for takeoff.
120 knots.
140.
150.
She pulled back on the stick, the F-5 surging into the night sky. The landing gear retracted with a satisfying clunk.
Emilie keyed her mic. "All planes, engage! Target enemy bombers first!"
Mona was the first to respond. "Wilco. Starseer, engaging!" She broke left, her Tiger II vanishing into the darkness.
Teppei followed. "Roger! Herring, engaging!" He split right.
Emilie shoved the throttles forward, afterburners lighting up as she climbed toward the incoming bombers.
Her IFF updated. Two B-1 Lancers loomed ahead.
She squeezed the trigger. "Fox Two, Fox Two!"
Two missiles streaked away. Direct hits. The bombers tore apart, their fuselages splitting as fire and debris rained down.
Her radio crackled. "Raven's got two bombers!"
Then, another voice cut in. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Reed, approaching Petrichor. What's the situation?"
Teppei let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh great, here comes his royal highness from the mainland."
He fired on an F-4E Phantom. "Fox Two!" The missile struck home. "Herring's got a bandit!"
The control tower responded urgently. "Lieutenant Colonel, we're being swarmed! Fighters and bombers everywhere!"
Emilie spotted another F-4 Phantom. She locked on.
Tone. Lock.
"Fox Two!"
The Phantom snapped into a tight right turn, breaking the missile lock. Emilie followed, gritting her teeth.
"I'm not losing you!"
Switching to guns, she lined up the shot. She squeezed the trigger.
Rounds ripped through the Phantom's right wing. The wing sheared off, sending the jet spiraling out of control before slamming into the ground.
"Enemy fighter down!"
Lieutenant Colonel Reed's voice came back. "Emilie, can I trust you to hold the runway until I arrive?"
She tightened her grip on the stick. "Y-yes!"
Reed's tone remained calm. "Good. Keep at it."
Emilie spotted another B-1 Lancer.
Lock. Tone.
"Fox Two, Fox Two!"
Two missiles streaked from her Tiger II. Direct hit. The bomber's left wing tore off, sending it spiraling into the ocean.
An explosion off her left wingtip.
"Herring's got two more bombers!"
Emilie grinned, clicking her mic. "Outstanding work, Teppei!"
The battle for Petrichor was far from over. But they weren't going down without a fight.
Mona's voice cut through the radio. "The bombers that flew overhead earlier are turning around for another run!"
Teppei glanced toward the hangars—just in time to see another F-5 Tiger II rolling out. The jet accelerated down the taxiway, its canopy gleaming under the base's emergency floodlights.
He keyed his radio. "Hey! We got someone in another Tiger!"
Mona's voice was sharp. "Who the hell pulled that out!?"
A new voice crackled over the comms. "This is Ayaka! Kamisato Ayaka!"
Teppei's eyes widened. "Ayaka?!"
She continued, her voice steady despite the tension. "I was at the hangars working with Kaeya on this thing! I'm taking off!"
Teppei's grip on the stick tightened. "Like hell you are, Ayaka! You're not even out of replacement pilot training yet!"
"Is there any other spare pilots running around there?"
Ayaka's reply was immediate. "I didn't see any at all, sir!"
Mona broke in. "We don't have time for this. We need every pilot we can get in the sky, Herring."
Then she turned her attention to Ayaka. "Be careful, Ayaka. I'll cover your six."
Ayaka's voice held a note of determination. "I'll try, ma'am."
Teppei exhaled sharply, then keyed his radio. "Hey, Raven. Ayaka's going out here. I'm not so sure she can handle it. Are we just gonna sit here and watch?"
Emilie had just finished off two Panavia Tornadoes before responding. "No. Provide supporting fire and cover! I'll deal with the bombers!"
Teppei clicked his mic. "Roger that, Emilie. Let's give her a hand!"
He banked right, shifting his focus from the bombers to the remaining enemy fighters, leaving the three B-1 Lancers for Emilie.
The radio crackled again.
A panicked voice came through. "Wait! Don't go! It's too dangerous!"
Then the control tower barked back. "No! Let her go! She can do this!"
"May the Anemo Archon guide you, Soumetsu!"
Ayaka's voice followed, strong and clear. "This is First Airwoman Kamisato Ayaka, callsign Soumetsu! Departing the runway to provide support for the other planes!"
The control tower responded without hesitation. "Roger that, Soumetsu."
Then a direct message. "Raven, I trust you can take care of Soumetsu. Please—watch over her!"
Emilie nodded to herself, adjusting her grip on the stick. "Of course!"
The frequency shifted again. A new voice—calm, authoritative. "This is Wolfsbane Leader. Petrichor, I'm out of fuel. I'm landing."
The control tower immediately pushed back. "Sir! You can't land yet! We're still under attack!"
Emilie, meanwhile, spotted another B-1 Lancer lining up for a bombing run. She leveled her Tiger II and switched to guns.
She squeezed the trigger.
Bullets shredded the bomber's right engines and wing root.
The turbines sputtered—then erupted in a violent explosion. Fire ripped through the fuselage as the wing broke apart, sending the heavy aircraft plummeting toward the ocean.
"We got two bombers left!"
Teppei's voice came through. "But plenty more fighters still in the air!"
Emilie clenched her teeth. "Keep fighting! We're almost there!"
Then, Ayaka's voice. "This is Soumetsu! I'm airborne! Providing supporting fire!"
The Lieutenant Colonel's voice cut through again. "Negative, Tower. All planes, provide cover while I land!"
Teppei practically shouted into the radio. "WHAT ARE YOU!? INSANE!?"
A sigh came over the channel. "Second Lieutenant Teppei… is that you?"
Teppei tensed. "Y-Yes?"
The Lieutenant Colonel let out a tired chuckle. "I'll make sure to write you up when I la—"
Then—an explosion.
Teppei's head snapped left.
Flames trailed from an F-4 Phantom spiraling toward the ground.
"The Lieutenant Colonel is going down!"
His eyes locked onto an F-16C streaking away—smoke still trailing from its missile rail.
Teppei yanked his Tiger II into a hard turn, switching targets. Tone. Lock.
"Fox Two!"
A single missile streaked away.
Impact.
The F-16C disintegrated midair, its forward fuselage tumbling into the ocean.
Teppei clicked his mic. "Splash for Herring!"
The battle wasn't over yet—but they were holding their ground.
All the while, Emilie lined up her sights on the last two bombers. A sharp burst of cannon fire tore into the fuselage of the first, sending flames and debris scattering as it tumbled out of the sky. The second one barely had time to react before a Sidewinder streaked off her rail and detonated against the Lancer's wing root. It spiraled down, its structure collapsing under the forces.
That left just one.
Her eyes locked onto it—high at 10,000 feet, banking away in a desperate attempt to escape.
She didn't hesitate. Emilie slammed the throttles forward, the F-5 Tiger II's J85 engines roaring as she yanked back hard on the stick. The G-forces crushed her into her seat as the aircraft rocketed into a steep climb, pushing its limits.
Her left engine suddenly coughed and shuddered. A sinking feeling shot through her gut.
"Shit! I'm experiencing a compressor stall on the left engine!"
She quickly adjusted her throttle inputs, working to recover the airflow before it flamed out completely. But she couldn't afford to slow down.
Her eyes flicked to the altimeter—
6,000.
7,000.
8,000 feet.
The bomber was almost in range. Her HUD flashed—tone acquired.
"Fox Two! Fox Two!"
Both of her remaining missiles streaked away, their white trails cutting through the sky as she pushed forward on the stick, snapping into a nose-over vertical descent. Her F-5 trembled in protest, the high-speed maneuver straining its airframe.
Then—a brilliant explosion erupted above her. The final B-1 Lancer fragmented into fire and wreckage, its burning remains tumbling from the heavens.
The radio came alive in rapid succession.
"Soumetsu's got three bogeys!"
"Herring's got the last Tornado!"
"Starseer's got the final fighter!"
Then—silence.
Emilie leveled out at low altitude, her breathing heavy. As she eased off the throttle, she saw her team forming up around her. The three remaining F-5 Tiger IIs slid into position—one on each wing, one trailing slightly behind.
A perfect diamond formation.
Then, the control tower broke the quiet.
"It's over! All enemy fighters and bombers have been eliminated! Thanks for protecting our base, everyone!"
Emilie let out a deep breath, finally relaxing against her ejector seat.
Then, Ayaka's voice crackled through the radio.
"Hey, Emilie?"
Emilie turned her head, first right, then left.
To her left, flying steady, was Ayaka's F-5.
"Was my flying okay?"
Emilie gave a thumbs-up from inside her canopy, a small grin forming.
"It was fantastic! Three kills in your first air battle? Not bad, Ayaka!"
Ayaka nodded. "Thank you! But it was because of you and your team's support."
Down below, the ground troops were already celebrating.
"Looks like Ayaka didn't need us after all. She was great out there!"
"Yeah! Let's throw a celebration party together!"
Emilie chuckled. "Now that's something I'd want to do..."
Teppei's laughter cut in. "You got that right! Beers all 'round for me!"
Mona exhaled. "Yeah... after the hell we've been through today, we deserve it."
Minutes later...
The trio executed a flawless formation landing at Petrichor Air Force Base, their F-5 Tiger IIs touching down in perfect synchronization. The moment their wheels met the tarmac, cheers erupted across the airfield. Ground crews, officers, and fellow pilots celebrated their successful defense of the base, their voices carrying over the hum of idling jet engines.
The Wolfsbane Squadron had held the line.
And Ayaka had proven herself in her first true air battle.
Inside the base, the mess hall was alive with celebration. Laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses filled the air as the tension of battle melted away.
Emilie raised her glass of beer high. "Cheers, everyone!"
The response was instant. Dozens of voices joined hers as glasses clashed together.
"Cheers!"
She chuckled before turning to a familiar face among the crowd—Kaeya, one of the base's top mechanics.
"Hey, Kaeya," she said, lowering her voice slightly. "Sorry if I was harsh on you earlier."
Kaeya smirked, swirling the drink in his glass. "No worries. I get it. We were getting shot at, and you're flying ancient jets." He chuckled. "Honestly, those planes are relics anyway. It's a miracle you didn't have both engines quit on you mid-dogfight."
Emilie sighed, nodding. "Yeah... figures it's time for the auxiliary squadron to get something newer."
"Agreed," Kaeya said, tapping his glass against hers before taking a sip.
Before the conversation could continue, heavy boots approached. Captain Maksim stepped forward, his presence immediately commanding attention.
"Actually," he began, "we've already got something lined up for you. Some surplus aircraft—leftovers from a squadron that upgraded." His eyes met Emilie's. "Come by the hangars with your team in two days."
Emilie straightened slightly, nodding. "Yes, sir."
Maksim gave a satisfied nod before stepping away, leaving the party to continue.
The night stretched on, the celebrations lasting well into the late hours.
And eventually...
September 27 came to an end.
But that day had seen three major operations—
Eliminating UAV recon drones.
Defending Fontaine's naval fleet.
And a surprise air base attack.
Through it all, Wolfsbane Squadron had held the skies.
They had proven their skill.
And they had shown everyone that they were more than just pilots.
They were flying aces.