December 7 – 0704 Hours
Airspace Over Liyue, Denyu Pass
The four aircraft flew in a tight diamond formation, slicing through the thin air at nineteen thousand feet. Night was breaking into gray dawn, the eastern horizon spilling pale light over the snow-dusted ridges of Liyue below. They'd flown nonstop through the night, throttles trimmed back for endurance, fuel gauges watched like lifelines. Every drop mattered now.
The mountains stretched endlessly beneath them—rugged, cold, and unwelcoming. A place no one sane would try to cross with half-empty tanks and nowhere to land.
Emilie exhaled sharply, voice tense inside her helmet.
"We've got nowhere to land…"
Ayaka's tone was quiet, detached but tight with fatigue.
"I know. If we do, we either get shot… or arrested."
Mona's reply came darker.
"Or the 5050th catches up and turns us into fireballs."
Kaeya's voice cut through, calm but lined with pressure.
"We hold steady. Wait for a sign… or someone."
Then the radio cracked open with static. A familiar, unwanted voice bled through.
"This is the 5050th Squadron. We have the traitors in sight. Requesting permission to engage."
Silence hung for a second—then Maksim's cold tone followed.
"5050th… engage."
The next voice hit like a gut punch.
"This is AWACS Thunderspike. 5050th, you are cleared to fire. Weapons free."
A dry chuckle followed. "Can't believe I flew with those bastards…"
Emilie's gloved hand clenched around the stick. "Son of a bitch…"
Kaeya snapped, his voice sharp and decisive.
"We dive. Stick to the valley. Follow me down the pass—Dihua Marsh!"
"Roger that," Emilie replied.
The Hawk rolled inverted, nose dropping steeply as Kaeya slammed the throttles forward. Emilie followed without hesitation, her F-5 shuddering from the sudden g-load. Ayaka and Mona tucked in behind her, throttles maxed, wings trembling in the thin mountain air as they plunged after him.
The altimeter spun fast. Wind howled past the canopies. Vapor trails peeled off wingtips as they dropped into the narrow valley, barely two hundred feet above the snow and ice.
Above them, the 5050th's comms erupted in disbelief.
"That maneuver… wait—is that him?"
"You mean the Colonel? The 'Prince of Khaenri'ah' from the last war?"
"Yeah. The biggest traitor in our history. Kaeya Alberich…"
Kaeya keyed his mic.
"Hadura. I figured it was you. 5050th, huh? You always did like hiding behind new colors."
He yanked the Hawk into a hard break left, the wings biting through the cold air. The others followed, the formation twisting through the jagged terrain—tight, disciplined, dangerous.
The valley widened for a moment, revealing a vast open stretch dotted with ancient aircraft husks. Broken fuselages, shattered canopies, rusted wings scattered under the frost.
Ayaka's voice broke the silence. "What is this place…?"
"Aircraft graveyard," Emilie muttered. "Old combat birds dumped after their last fight. Nothing flies here anymore."
Kaeya's Hawk suddenly rolled into a violent left-hand snap turn, wings slicing the air in a blistering maneuver that left vapor coils in its wake.
Emilie's eyes widened. "Holy shit, Kaeya! How the hell did you pull that!?"
Ayaka flinched, fighting her stick. "He expects us to follow that!?"
"Yes!" Emilie barked. She jerked her F-5 into the same move. The airframe groaned in protest, warning tones flickering across her HUD. The jet held.
Kaeya's laugh came through the comms, calm even as g-forces pressed him into his seat. "Relax, young ones. You've got this."
Mona and Ayaka mirrored the maneuver, their aircraft slicing through the canyon with meters to spare. There was no room for error. One mistake and they'd smear across the valley floor.
Emilie leveled out beside Kaeya again, her breathing ragged. She glanced upward—seven F-15S/MTDs hovered at high altitude, circling like predators unwilling to follow them into the terrain.
Kaeya rolled right, diving them deeper into another gorge.
"My senses have never been this sharp!" Mona shouted, exhilaration cutting through her fear. "It's like flying on knives!"
The formation surged left again, hugging the mountainside as sunrise flooded the peaks with gold.
"How's Houallet doing back there?" Emilie asked, her tone measured as she trimmed the throttle to stay just behind Kaeya's fighter.
"Still alive and hanging on," Kaeya replied with a grin in his voice.
"Barely."
"You two keeping up?" he added, teasing.
"So far, so good, Kaeya," Emilie answered. She eased her F-5 into formation, keeping a thirty-meter offset. The altimeter ticked down rapidly as terrain rushed beneath them.
Ayaka's voice came through, slightly winded.
"Where the hell did you learn to fly like that!?"
Kaeya's laugh echoed across the radio.
"Many battles ago, young aviator. This sky used to be mine…"
He rolled his Mirage into a hard left bank, pulling nearly six Gs as he dropped into a narrow chute between the cliffs. Dust and fragments of loose rock kicked up in his jet wash.
Emilie followed instantly, throttling back to maintain spacing. Her HUD screamed altitude warnings as the canyon walls blurred past just meters from her wingtips. Mona slid her F-5 into position off Emilie's right wing, her flight path steady but tight.
Ayaka hesitated for a heartbeat—her breath catching. Then she yanked her stick left, the F-5's wings flexing as she dove into the chute with a startled gasp.
Mona keyed her radio.
"Ayaka! Don't stray too far off course—stay tight on Emilie's vector!"
Ayaka steadied herself, eyes locked on Emilie's tail lights through the swirling canyon dust.
Then—looming ahead—yawned a massive black cavern.
Ayaka's eyes widened in disbelief.
"WE'RE FLYING THROUGH THAT!?"
Emilie's reply came flat, calm, controlled.
"Yep. Stay centered. Don't overcorrect."
Kaeya's Hawk shot into the dark void without hesitation. Emilie followed on instinct, flying off the faint glow of Kaeya's exhaust. Mona's F-5 plunged in next, its twin afterburners briefly lighting the cave walls in violent orange.
Ayaka gritted her teeth and dove in last.
"Ugh—uhh—gah! Wh—WHOOAAA!"
Her voice spiked as she jerked the stick to avoid a stalactite that whipped past her canopy.
Inside, the darkness swallowed them whole.
The walls pressed close—barely fifteen meters of clearance on each side.
Their strobes and navigation lights flashed across jagged rock, shadows strobing like flak bursts.
Kaeya banked right again—into a tighter tunnel still. His tone remained maddeningly casual.
"Tunnel two coming up. Keep it smooth."
Emilie's voice cut in, steady under strain.
"Don't lose your depth perception in the dark. Trust your instruments, not your eyes."
"Copy!" Ayaka replied, her voice tense.
"This place is barely wide enough for our wings!" Mona hissed, sweat beading on her forehead. Her control inputs were minimal, precise—every tiny movement mattered.
Kaeya chuckled.
"You're all making it sound too easy. Don't give me that much credit!"
Emilie smirked slightly.
"I know you can do it, Kaeya. Just keep your eyes forward. Everyone else—maintain wide visual scan. Don't fixate."
The tunnel twisted again—and suddenly, ahead, a faint glow appeared.
"I see light ahead!" Emilie called out, leaning forward instinctively.
Ayaka squinted as the glare intensified.
"The light—it's blinding!"
They burst out of the tunnel one by one—first Kaeya's Mirage, then Emilie, Mona, and Ayaka—rocketing back into open sky. The sudden wash of daylight hit them like a wave.
Kaeya leveled out, climbing to regain altitude.
"Emilie, do you see them? The 5050th?"
Emilie craned her neck, scanning both horizon and radar.
"Negative. Clear skies—no contacts, no contrails. Nothing visual."
Mona exhaled, finally allowing herself to breathe.
"Phew… Looks like we're in the clear for now."
Kaeya's Hawk rolled slightly to the right, his tone settling.
"Alright. Form up on me—we keep heading northeast. Stay low, tree-top altitude. Border's not far."
Four aircraft leveled into a tight combat spread, engines humming low as they skimmed just above the treeline, the forest canopy racing beneath them in streaks of green and shadow.
The radio went quiet for a moment—just the steady hum of turbines and the hiss of air rushing over aluminum skin.
They were through. For now.
But then—radio static.
Crackling, distorted bursts cut across the frequency. A sharp click followed by that familiar, loathsome voice.
"This is Thunderspike. What the hell happened, 5050th? I've reacquired the traitors on radar!"
The channel hissed again before another voice joined in—clear, cold, and precise.
"This is Tempest. I have visual. Do I shoot them down?"
Emilie's breath caught. She exhaled softly through her mask.
"…Well… this might be it. Our end."
Mona's reply came weary, bitter.
"Even Mualani thinks we're traitors…"
Then—Maksim's voice, authoritative and merciless.
"Yes, Tempest…"
A short, unexpected laugh came from Kaeya's cockpit.
"She's not our enemy."
Emilie's tone snapped sharp.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Kaeya?"
The four aircraft instinctively pulled into a tight box formation, wingtips almost brushing. The tension in the air was a physical thing—HUDs glowing red with threat indicators, radar painting hostile vectors closing from high altitude.
Then—out of the glare above them—a single F-14A Tomcat screamed overhead, wings swept full forward.
Mualani's jet.
She pulled into a blistering 180, airbrakes flaring, wings locking into position for low-speed handling. The Tomcat dropped into trail position behind them—right on their six.
Emilie glanced at her rearview mirror, her pupils narrowing.
"Hey… I've got something. She's signaling—flash beacon, short bursts. Looks like Morse."
She squinted at her radar scope, reading the light pattern aloud in slow, deliberate rhythm:
"Trust… me… bail… out… Sea Monster Crew… Arkhe."
"She wants us to bail," she said quietly, realization dawning.
Kaeya nodded once.
"Then we trust her."
He looked back over his shoulder toward the rear cockpit.
"Houallet, pull the eject handle. You first."
A heartbeat later—WHOOOSH—Houallet's seat fired, the canopy fragmenting as the explosive bolts blew free. His seat rocketed skyward, smoke trailing against the cold blue.
Kaeya followed instantly. The canopy of his Mirage shattered, and a violent burst of smoke threw him into the sky.
But as his seat cleared the aircraft—
a missile shrieked across the horizon.
Impact.
BOOM.
Kaeya's Hawk disintegrated in a rolling sphere of fire and debris. The shockwave rippled through Emilie's cockpit.
Mualani's voice came through, crisp and emotionless:
"Tempest to Thunderspike. Splash one."
Thunderspike's response was cold, mechanical.
"Kill confirmed, Tempest. Continue mission."
Ayaka's breathing was ragged in Emilie's headset.
"…I'm out…"
Her canopy blasted away—then the sharp crack of her seat launching.
Mona followed seconds later.
Two more heat signatures flared on Emilie's radar.
WHOOSH. WHOOSH.
Twin missiles left Mualani's Tomcat, contrails arcing upward before plunging down onto the falling jets.
BOOM.
BOOM.
Both F-5s vanished in flame.
"One left!" Thunderspike barked.
Emilie's gloved hands hovered over the yellow-and-black-striped handle. She hesitated for only a second—then yanked hard.
CLACK. POP. BOOM.
The canopy blasted away. Her seat punched out of the F-5, smoke and fire swirling beneath her boots as the aircraft tore itself apart under Mualani's final missile strike.
For a few long seconds, all she could hear was wind roaring in her ears. Then silence.
She dangled beneath her chute, the white canopy billowing open high above. Below her, fragments of burning wreckage rained into the ocean, leaving trails of steam as they hit the surface.
Emilie reached up, detached the seat harness, and pulled her chute's risers close. She spread the canopy across the water as she descended—using it to break her silhouette.
Around her, four other chutes drifted in the wind, ghostly white against the silver sea.
One by one, they hit the surface with muffled splashes. Salt water surged around them, cold and heavy. Emilie inhaled through her mouth, keeping her face half-submerged under the canopy fabric. Her ears strained to catch every word from her still-active comms.
Static. Then—
"This is Thunderspike… all planes down! Good work, everyone. Return to base."
"Tempest, cleared to return to base."
A faint click. Then silence.
Just the slow hiss of the sea against her helmet mic.
They floated there for minutes—motionless, suspended between survival and discovery. The ocean rocked them gently, parachutes spread like debris over the waves, disguising their presence.
Not a word was spoken. Only breath.
The mission had ended in fire and lies.
And beneath the endless sky, five survivors waited—adrift and unseen.
Then—
Another voice broke across the comms, lower, composed, professional.
"This is Sea Monster. No survivors in sight. Just wreckage…"
A pause. The ocean hissed beneath Emilie's parachute.
"Roger, Sea Monster. Return to base."
But Sea Monster didn't leave.
A new transmission bled through—this time clear, personal, and close. The voice had switched to Emilie's private frequency.
"Wolfsbane? This is your rescue helicopter. We're bringing you to a new place."
"You all have a new home."
Emilie's eyes snapped open under the wet fabric of her chute. She pushed the silk aside, seawater cascading from her helmet visor as she tilted her head skyward.
Above, the rhythmic whup-whup-whup of rotor blades grew louder. The shape of a UH-60 Black Hawk cut through the low clouds, its landing lights flashing in steady pulses. The downwash tore at the sea surface, spraying foam and mist across the waves.
From the open bay door, a crewman leaned out and tossed a hoist line down toward her.
Emilie reached up, hands slick with seawater, and caught the rope. She wrapped it tight around her forearm, locking the carabiner onto her survival harness.
"Copy, Sea Monster. I've got the line," she managed through clenched teeth.
The hoist whined, cable tightening. The sea pulled away beneath her boots as she began to rise—spray lashing her legs, helmet dripping. Her flight suit clung to her like a second skin, saltwater running in rivulets from her gloves.
She passed the twisted remains of her F-5 below—half-submerged, wings shattered, nosecone gone. Her parachute drifted nearby, white silk floating like ghostly kelp in the current.
Higher. Past the wash of the rotor's downburst. Past the burning sting of seawater in her eyes.
Into the belly of the bird.
Two gloved hands reached out and pulled her inside. Someone threw a towel around her shoulders. The air inside was warm and heavy with jet fuel and salt.
Emilie leaned against the cabin wall, catching her breath, the low hum of the engines filling her ears.
From the cockpit, the pilot turned slightly, helmet visor glinting under the cabin light. A familiar smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Hey, Emilie. Welcome back."
She managed a faint, exhausted exhale.
"Thanks… guys."
The pilot gave a small nod and turned forward again.
"We're taking you to the carrier Arkhe. Mona, Ayaka, Kaeya, and Houallet are aboard Helicopter Two."
Emilie's gaze dropped to the floor—boots dripping seawater onto the black rubber mat. She nodded once, quietly.
"…Right. Let's go."
The Black Hawk pitched into a shallow bank, rotors beating a steady rhythm as it climbed away from the crash site.
Through the open door, Emilie could see the burning debris field shrinking behind them, fading into the rolling blue.
The chopper leveled out and turned northeast, nose pointed toward the horizon.
Toward Musk Reef.
Their new home.