October 2
10:00 Hours
Chenyu Vale Air Force Base
The morning sun hung high, casting brilliant shafts of light through the scattered clouds drifting lazily above Chenyu Vale. A persistent wind swept across the mountains and flight line, tugging at flags and rippling across hangar roofs. Inside the base's briefing room, the atmosphere was serious—focused.
Operation Ascension.
The room held Wolfsbane Squadron—Emilie, Mona, Teppei, and Ayaka—fresh from their downtime and now facing a new, high-stakes mission. At the front stood Commander Siqin, the temporary CO of Chenyu Vale, in charge for today's critical launch defense.
"Welcome to Chenyu Vale Air Force Base, Wolfsbane," Siqin began, hands behind his back. "I regret not greeting you yesterday, but we've got a more pressing matter today. You're being re-tasked under my command for this operation. All aircraft currently refueling or on standby are under my authority."
He turned toward the screen as it blinked to life, displaying a high-res satellite map of Zephyr's Island and the SSTO launch facility nestled along its coastline.
"A new mass driver launch installation has been established near Mondstadt in cooperation with Natlan and Sumeru—intended as a peaceful step toward outer space. The Skywarden, our low-orbit spacecraft, is due to receive a crucial upgrade—a high-energy precision laser—via SSTO launch scheduled for this morning."
Siqin's tone grew heavier.
"But just hours ago, radar picked up Natlan Air Force aircraft moving on vector paths toward Zephyr's Island—likely attempting to disrupt the launch or destroy critical infrastructure."
A red overlay spread across the map, highlighting enemy vectors. Emilie leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing.
"The launch site's defenses are minimal. No active interceptors on standby. All trainee pilots are grounded—they're just kids. You four are the only combat-ready pilots in range. Your mission: protect the SSTO launch vehicle, the Skywarden, and the facility's mass driver from air assault."
The screen went dark.
"Sortie immediately. Come back in one piece."
Chairs scraped back as Wolfsbane Squadron stood up in unison, grabbing helmets and heading for the flight line with practiced urgency.
Outside, the ramp hummed with energy. A row of F-14A Tomcats gleamed under the morning sun, jet intakes gulping air as ground crews swarmed around them. Emilie jogged toward her bird, the side of the nose still warm to the touch from engine preheat.
She took the ladder in two steps, sliding into the pilot's seat and pulling on her harness as the ground crew connected the final GPU and Ground Air Unit lines.
Once strapped in, she slapped her helmet on and gave a shout down to the crew.
"Engines hot in ten seconds! Prep for disconnect!"
A thumbs-up. Emilie flipped the right engine start switch.
Whine. Ignition. Spool.
The right TF30 roared to life as RPMs climbed. At 20 percent, she pushed the throttle from cutoff to idle. The turbine stabilized, spitting warm air out the rear exhaust. She repeated the startup for the left engine.
As the second TF30 came alive, the crew sprang into action. Disconnecting hoses. Sealing ports. Rolling the equipment clear. Another thumbs-up.
Emilie saluted sharply, then keyed the comms.
"Wolfsbane Squadron, let's go help our aeronautical engineers."
Responses came back crisp.
"Herring, let's go!" Teppei called.
"Soumetsu, wilco." Ayaka chimed in.
"Starseer, roger." Mona added with calm precision.
Emilie eased the throttles forward, releasing the parking brake as the Tomcat began to taxi. She flipped the clear cover off the wing sweep controls and set the wings to fully extended. Her jet rolled smoothly down the taxiway toward the runway threshold.
At Runway 02, they lined up—four F-14A Tomcats gleaming under the sun. Each canopy now sealed. Engines howling.
"Emilie, taking point."
With a push, she slammed the throttles forward into full afterburner. Twin plumes of fire surged from her tailpipes, catapulting her jet down the tarmac. The others followed.
120 knots.
140.
150.
160.
At 174 knots, Emilie gently pulled back on the stick. The Tomcat responded like a bird uncaged, lifting smoothly into the sky. She retracted gear, flaps, then checked instruments—everything green.
One by one, the rest of Wolfsbane Squadron soared into formation behind her. They slipped into a diamond pattern, wings level, noses angled toward the sea.
Zephyr's Island. ETA: 35 minutes.
Operation Ascension is a go.
The Skywarden's future—and space itself—hangs in the balance.
Eventually, the 35 minutes were up.
The four F-14A Tomcats cruised low over the waves, their shadows skimming the shoreline of Zephyr's Island as they approached from the west. The dull gray silhouettes of the Mass Driver and the Space Center grew on the horizon, jutting out of the rocky terrain like massive monoliths of human ingenuity.
Emilie glanced downward from the cockpit, her voice breaking over the comms.
"Hey—look down there. Those two massive hangars... they're building those unmanned airborne aircraft carriers, aren't they?"
Teppei followed her gaze, banking slightly.
"Oh yeah… those Sepharis birds. Damn, they're huge even from up here."
Ayaka chimed in as her Tomcat passed overhead.
"Yeah… their craft is massive. Like a floating fortress."
Mona's voice came through next, calm but laced with tension.
"Last I heard, Sumeru and Natlan were spearheading the project. But with Natlan turning on us… there's no way this gets finished in the next decade."
Emilie let out a quiet sigh.
"That's war. Progress dies the moment the bombs fall."
Ayaka looked up toward the sky suddenly.
"H-Hey… is that the Skywarden?"
Teppei clicked over to his radio, addressing her.
"Hey, Listen."
Ayaka blinked. "Yes?"
"Isn't that thing supposed to work like a satellite from low orbit?"
"Right."
"Then why the hell is it all the way down here? Something wrong with it?"
Ayaka responded thoughtfully. "It is a low-orbit space vehicle, yes…"
Teppei groaned. "I know that. But I mean, if it uses orbital friction to change its trajectory, doesn't that make it insanely vulnerable to surface-to-air or even air-to-air threats while it's this low?"
Ayaka tapped a gloved finger to her chin.
"Hmmm… yeah. I guess if someone were to fire on it now, it'd be in serious trouble."
Teppei nodded. "Exactly! Shouldn't it be higher up by now?"
Emilie cut in, a little exasperated.
"Didn't any of you listen during the last briefing?"
She adjusted her throttle slightly to maintain formation.
"The Skywarden's staying low because it's receiving the laser payload from the Mass Driver launch. They have to time it precisely."
Teppei and Ayaka clicked on simultaneously.
"Ooohhh, I see."
Then, the squadron's secondary comms crackled to life with a countdown.
"Three minutes to launch. We're on schedule."
Suddenly—another voice cut in, more urgent. A different tone.
"Halt the countdown! Enemy inbound! Large formation of C-130s and fighter escorts approaching fast! They're attempting to seize the Space Center!"
Mona broke her silence, voice sharpened with disbelief.
"What!? They're actually invading Teyvat?!"
Just then, Emilie's IFF pinged something new—fast-moving contacts dropping from altitude.
Her HUD lit up red.
"Shit—tanks! They're dropping armored vehicles from the transports!"
She slammed her throttles forward, the F-14A roaring as its twin General Electric engines screamed into full afterburner.
"Everyone! Engage! Prioritize transport planes and the tanks they're dropping!"
The responses were quick, one after the other.
"Wilco! Herring engaging!"
"Starseer engaging!"
"Soumetsu engaging!"
Teppei followed up, his usual wit returning under fire.
"So we just shoot the parachutes and let 'em fall like a damn brick, right!?"
Emilie nodded in her cockpit. "Exactly!"
"Roger that!"
Diving down, Emilie locked eyes with the first tank being parachuted to the ground. The large, gray ACV swung below its chute like a wrecking ball.
She flicked her thumb over to guns and steadied her aim.
Her HUD crosshair settled just above the chute.
She squeezed the trigger.
The M61A1 Vulcan screamed to life, spewing 20mm tracer rounds. They tore through the fabric and into the tank's upper chassis. The chute shredded apart, and gravity claimed the rest.
The tank plunged like dead weight.
"Tank destroyed!"
She pulled hard on the stick, nose rising as she climbed back up to altitude. A second later, another threat appeared.
Across the space center, Ayaka flew low and aggressive. She dipped beneath a C-130, then rolled up and executed a hard 180-degree reversal. Her jet snapped behind the transport, her tone buzzing.
Lock.
"Fox Two, Fox Two!"
Two AIM-9 Sidewinders lanced from her rails, streaking up toward the transport's rear.
The C-130's tail detonated, the entire fuselage splitting apart mid-air as debris spiraled toward the earth.
"Soumetsu's got a transport!"
Teppei's voice came back on the net.
"One, two, three, four—damn it! I can't count how many chutes are out there! I gave up already!"
He dove after one, angling in toward a second parachuting tank.
"Guns, guns!"
The Vulcan fired again, tracers ripping through the air. Another direct hit—the tank's chute evaporated in a puff of shredded nylon, and the armor crumpled like foil on impact.
"Yes! Tank down!"
The radio buzzed again, command barking an order:
"Destroy all ACVs! Engage air and ground threats! Do not let them overrun the facility!"
Teppei grunted back over comms.
"Thanks for the advice, Captain Obvious! Already on it!"
Then came another voice—this time, frantic engineers from the space center.
"Please—we need to restart the countdown! It's not safe for the SSTO to remain grounded! We're sitting ducks!"
Emilie keyed her radio again.
"Teppei, Ayaka—handle the ACVs. Mona and I will sweep the sky and cover the launch zone!"
Two affirmatives came back:
"Soumetsu, Roger!"
"Herring, Roger!"
Emilie snapped into a hard right bank. Her eyes caught two enemy aircraft approaching head-on—F-20A Tigersharks in formation, likely fast-attack escorts for the C-130s.
She leveled out and flicked to special weapons—XMAA.
A tone.
Lock.
"Fox Three, Fox Three!"
Two long-range missiles launched from under her fuselage, the Tomcat bucking slightly. She immediately broke right, hunting for her next kill.
Two explosions lit up the sky in the distance.
"Raven's got two bandits!"
Mona's voice followed.
"Starseer's got another two targets down!"
Ahead, three Panavia Tornado GR1s appeared, flying fast and low.
They split.
Emilie targeted the one breaking right, diving toward the Mass Driver.
The Tornado weaved left and right, trying to shake her.
She mirrored every move, closing the distance.
Then the Tornado pulled into a steep climbing turn.
Big mistake.
She switched to guns, adjusted lead, and fired.
The Vulcan rounds punched through the fuselage, and then the canopy—instant kill.
The aircraft pitched forward and slammed into the ground in a fireball.
"Raven, splash!"
She banked hard left—saw the second Tornado also making a run for the Mass Driver.
Thumb flick—Sidewinders.
Tone. Lock.
"Fox Two, Fox Two!"
The missiles streaked after the Tornado, which desperately tried to climb out.
Too late.
The warheads slammed into the rear fuselage, severing the tail and sending the aircraft into a flat spin before impact.
"Raven's got a splash!"
Then a flash nearby—another explosion.
"Soumetsu's got your back!"
Ayaka's F-14 surged into formation just ahead of Emilie.
She smiled.
"Thanks for the assist, Ayaka."
Ayaka winked from the cockpit, her voice warm through the radio.
"Anytime, Captain."
Down below, the tanks were finally beginning to dwindle.
Teppei keyed his radio, voice laced with frustration.
"Ugh! I never liked tanks! Now I've got one more reason why I hate 'em!"
"I thought we had air superiority! But nooo—tanks raining down from the fucking sky like it's some kind of twisted circus!"
"What even is this goddamn operation!?"
Then, with a tinge of amusement in his voice, "At least they make good targets."
A pause.
"But not when they're on the fucking ground!"
Emilie's eyes swept downward through the canopy.
Her gaze locked onto a lone Natlan ACV tank, crawling toward a fortified pillbox like a predator closing in on prey.
Throttle to idle. She inverted her F-14, nose pointed straight toward the earth in a steep, aggressive dive. G-forces tugged at her body as she kept the nose aligned, HUD flickering with data as she searched for a tone.
A lock-on tone screamed into her headset.
There.
"Fox Two, Fox Two!"
Both Sidewinders streaked off their rails like angry wasps.
She slammed the throttles to full afterburner, hands working fast—left hand atop the right on the stick to muscle through the Gs as she hauled the nose skyward. The Tomcat roared with power, engines bellowing as she pulled into a vertical climb.
A second later, fire and smoke erupted from the forest floor.
A direct hit.
Emilie pumped a fist in the cockpit. "Yes!"
Her radio crackled to life.
"This is Command! All Natlan ACVs are down! Good work!"
Another voice broke in, fast and urgent.
"Recommence the countdown! Let's get this SSTO out of here as quickly as possible!"
Teppei's voice followed, full of relief.
"Finally! Looks like this mess is almost over!"
But it wasn't.
An urgent alert blared through the comms:
"Alert! Multiple cruise missiles inbound!"
Ayaka's breath caught.
"Cruise missiles!?"
Suddenly, their IFFs flickered—just for a second. But it was enough.
Multiple unknowns.
Emilie stared at the display, heart skipping a beat.
"…Holy shit. That's a lot of fucking missiles!"
"Everyone disperse! Shoot down every single cruise missile!"
She keyed up. "Command, where the hell are they being launched from!?"
Command responded, strained.
"Standby, Raven. Just keep them away from the SSTO!"
Another voice broke in.
"This is the Space Center! ETA to launch in two minutes! Hold them off!"
Emilie's radar locked onto a missile screaming toward the mass driver.
No time to switch weapons—she flicked to guns, pulled the trigger.
Tracers stitched across the sky.
A few missed.
One hit.
The cruise missile exploded in a fireball.
Smoke washed over her canopy as she blasted through the plume and arced around wide, rolling into a chase behind another missile on the approach vector.
Still in full afterburner, she finished the turn—the target now center on her HUD.
She switched to Sidewinders.
Lock.
Tone.
"Fox Two!"
The missile launched and shrieked after its prey.
She broke right, aiming for the next two cruise missiles already heading toward her head-on.
Another explosion rocked the sky.
Direct hit.
The shockwave nudged her Tomcat off-course slightly, but she kept it steady, her eyes flicking to the next targets.
Speed climbing. She broke Mach 1, flying low beneath the support beams of the mass driver.
She flipped to her XMAAs.
Four missiles now lined up ahead.
HUD tone chimed.
Four locks.
"Fox Three, Fox Three!"
Four long-range missiles screamed from her Tomcat's belly, chasing their targets like bloodhounds.
"I'm out of special weapons!" she barked into the radio.
She yanked the throttles back to idle, popped the dorsal and ventral airbrakes, and banked sharply left. Her wings auto-swept back into full span as speed bled off rapidly.
Four distant flashes lit the sky.
Mona's voice came through.
"Four hits, Emilie!"
Emilie retracted the brakes and nudged the throttle forward. She didn't stop moving.
Then, command again:
"This is Command! The cruise missiles are being launched from beyond radar range! Keep the helm!"
The radio erupted with chatter from the Space Center:
"We're about to launch the SSTO!"
"Final pre-flight checks! All stations, report!"
"Guidance?"
"Go."
"Navigation?"
"Go."
"Flight control, telemetry, comms, propulsion—do we have a go?"
Silence—
Then, an explosion.
"Herring's got a missile!"
The reply came in just after.
"All team leaders report: All systems go."
"Commence the countdown!"
Another burst of static.
"Soumetsu's got a target!"
Then came the countdown.
Ten…
Nine…
Eight…
Seven…
Six…
Teppei groaned.
"Come on! Has it launched yet!?"
Five… Four… Three… Two… One…
The SSTO's engines roared to life.
The massive vehicle began its dash down the rail like a thunderbolt unchained.
"We've got movement!"
Emilie's eyes caught a glint.
A cruise missile.
Headed straight for the SSTO.
She shoved her throttles forward again—full burn—and surged ahead.
"There's one last missile!"
Mona keyed in, her voice sharp.
"Emilie! You're flying straight into the SSTO's launch path!"
No response.
Emilie's mind was locked in.
"SSTO passing Checkpoint Four!"
She was closing in fast—on the missile and the SSTO.
The craft loomed larger.
So did the missile.
In one terrifying moment, Emilie's F-14 and the SSTO crossed paths—barely meters of airspace separating them.
Her HUD screamed a tone.
"Fox Two!"
A single Sidewinder detached and chased its mark.
She broke hard right, climbing steeply as the shockwave from the missile's explosion rolled behind her.
Below, the SSTO reached the end of the mass driver.
Then—lift-off.
The craft left the rails, angling upward, piercing the sky like a lance of fire.
Heading straight for the Skywarden.
Emilie exhaled and slammed her fist into the side of her cockpit.
"Yes! Hell yes!"
The comms returned.
"SSTO status report!?"
A long pause.
Too long.
Every second felt like eternity.
Then—
"All systems nominal. We're clear. Climbing steadily."
A cheer broke through the channel.
"I see it… She's climbing. She's really climbing…"
"Congratulations, everyone!"
Then Command came through.
"Wolfsbane, you did well. Return to base."
Emilie keyed her mic, voice steady now.
"Wilco. Returning to base."
The other three aircraft formed up on her wing as they gently banked to the right, course set for Chenyu Vale Air Force Base.
Mission accomplished.
Hours Later...
The four fighters and the twelve rookie jets finally touched down on the tarmac of Petrichor Air Force Base.
The mission was complete.
The objective to protect the SSTO launch was a success.
The rookies were all accounted for.
Emilie climbed down from the ladder of her F-14A Tomcat, the jet's twin engines ticking as they cooled in the night air. She popped her helmet off and ran a hand through her messy hair, brushing it back.
She exhaled a long, tired sigh.
"Man... What a day..."
She glanced up at the moonlit sky, smirking faintly. "I'm gonna savor that first bottle of beer when I get to the mess hall…"
Teppei's voice cut in as he walked over, helmet tucked under his arm.
"Escort mission turns into a scramble at North Dornman, then escort duty with nuggets, and then a goddamn space center defense on Zephyr's Island?" He threw up a hand in exasperation. "Please. I do not want a day like that again."
Mona followed behind, arms crossed. "I'll drink to that."
"Let's report in to the Commander first," Emilie said, adjusting the zipper on her flight suit. "Then we can hit the showers and get some rest."
The four of them made their way across the flight line and into the base's main building. They climbed the stairs to the operations floor and knocked once before entering the Commander's office.
Inside stood Commander Courbevoie —a sharp-eyed, no-nonsense officer with a voice that commanded attention. The four pilots snapped into a salute before standing at ease.
He nodded.
"Good work out there. All four of you."
He stepped around his desk, gesturing to a chart on the wall with the map of Zephyr's Island, now dotted with annotations from the mission.
"The fleet took a hit from that unexpected barrage," he said gravely. "We got lucky."
Teppei stepped forward, raising a hand. "Sir, about those cruise missiles… Do we know where the hell they came from?"
Commander Courbevoie's face darkened.
"They were launched from a submarine. Designation: Leviathan. A Faxi-class. Submarine carrier platform."
Mona's brow furrowed. "Submarine carrier?"
"Yes," Courbevoie confirmed. "We believe it has VLS capability and potentially a flight deck for unmanned aerial vehicles. Specifications are still classified, even to us. But one thing is clear: Natlan's naval capabilities are evolving faster than we anticipated."
There was a pause as the four pilots exchanged glances.
Courbevoie dismissed them with a nod. "Get some rest. You all earned it. Until then, consider yourselves on standby."
"Aye, sir," Emilie replied.
The squad departed the office, their boots echoing down the corridor. As they reached the hallway intersection, they split off toward their respective quarters without a word. The exhaustion was setting in.
Back in her room, Emilie placed her helmet on the desk with a dull clunk, setting her glasses beside it. She let her flight suit hang from her waist, sleeves loose, as she flopped back onto her cot.
Eyes closed.
Another sigh.
"…Man. What a goddamn day…"