Wings of the Stars

Three Days Later...

The sky stretched clear and endless above Dymny Kordon Air Force Base, a deceptive calm hanging in the air. But on the ground, it was anything but. The entire base was alive with the hum of war preparations. Soldiers and officers from Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, and beyond moved with urgency, their boots pounding the pavement. Vehicles rumbled across the tarmac, and the nearby Dymny Kordon Harbor was a forest of naval vessels, their crews making last-minute checks. Submarines lurked just beneath the waves, ready to strike when the time came.

In the vast hangars, the air was thick with the scent of jet fuel and metal. Ground crews worked tirelessly, checking and rechecking the aircraft. Mechanics from Iron Gale Air Force Base had arrived days earlier, reinforcing the maintenance teams to ensure every jet was in peak condition. There was no room for errors—not now.

Hangar 4 – Furina's Rafale

For three days, her Dassault Rafale had sat in the hangar, waiting for this moment. The aircraft's sleek form gleamed under the overhead lights, its deep blue, sky blue, white, and black livery flowing like a work of art across the airframe. The golden emblem on the tail—a crown over flowing water—stood out against the darker hues, an unmistakable mark of her dominance in the skies. Just beside the canopy, the words "Élégante et Efficace" were painted in bold script—a reminder that she was both refined and ruthless.

Furina stood beside it, watching as the ground crews loaded live ordnance onto the pylons—LRAAMs, HCAAs, Sidewinders, LACMs. Missiles that would soon rain death from the skies. This was it.

She ran a gloved hand along the cold metal of the right-side fuselage, fingers tracing the sleek curves of the aircraft.

"This is it… This will change the outcome of the war."

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the hum of the base fade away.

"You've been the knight throughout this war… It's time to end this… once and for all."

The weight of the moment settled deep in her chest, but she wouldn't let it shake her. This was what she had fought for.

Right on cue, a familiar voice called out.

"Hey, Furina! It's time for the briefing. Jean called."

She turned to see Collei passing by the hangar, her helmet tucked under one arm, green eyes sharp with determination.

Furina gave a small nod, exhaling as she pulled her glove tighter over her wrist.

"Alright. I'm coming."

She cast one last glance at her Rafale, then walked toward Collei, the two of them heading for the main building together.

Briefing Room – The Final Plan

The briefing room was packed. Pilots, ground troops, and naval officers filled every available seat, their uniforms a sea of different colors and insignias. The air was thick with anticipation, a quiet intensity settling over the room as everyone prepared for the mission that would decide the fate of the war.

Furina and Collei found themselves standing near the door—every seat had already been taken. No one complained. They were all in this together.

At the front of the room, Jean stood tall, eyes sweeping across the gathered forces. She took a breath, then spoke.

"Now that everyone's here, let's begin."

A silent tension fell over the room.

"This is the big one. The operation to capture the capital of Snezhnaya—Morepesok."

"This is the culmination of everything we've fought for. We need to take the Snezhnayan Forces' General Headquarters, south of Morepesok, and end this war—once and for all."

A pause. No one moved. No one so much as breathed.

Jean's voice hardened.

"The plan is as follows: Ground troops will attack Morepesok from the east, south, and north, while the naval fleet launches a full-scale assault from the west."

A few naval officers exchanged glances, nodding. They had been preparing for this for weeks.

"The Teyvat Strategic Strike Group will secure air superiority over the capital while providing close air support to both the naval fleet and ground forces as needed."

The air battle. The one that would decide everything.

Jean's gaze swept the room.

"By all accounts, this will be a full-scale battle across land, sea, and air. It won't be clean. It won't be easy. But if we do this right, we break their military in one stroke."

She let those words sink in before continuing.

"Allied forces have established a makeshift base up north for emergency refueling, ammunition resupply, and quick repairs. Use it if you have to, but don't rely on it. This is going to be brutal."

A short silence, then Jean pressed on.

"There's one more thing. We've identified communication satellites that Snezhnaya hacked and repurposed. They're using them to control information and coordinate their forces. If we can take those out, it will throw them into complete chaos. No orders. No reinforcements. Just a city falling apart from the inside out."

The implications were clear. Destroying those satellites would cut the head off the snake.

Jean straightened, her expression steely.

"Once the capital falls, their military will be isolated and thrown into disarray. That will be our moment to deliver the final blow."

A breath. A final pause before the inevitable storm.

Her next words came sharp. Final. Absolute.

"Until then, we have our work cut out for us. Every single person in this room is the star of this battle. This is our moment."

She let that settle before delivering the last, most important words.

"Make no mistake—losing is NOT an option."

Silence.

Then—movement.

Jean grabbed her helmet.

"Everyone, scramble and sortie ASAP! It's go time!"

The room erupted.

Chairs scraped against the floor. Boots thundered as pilots rushed out, sprinting for the hangars while naval officers made a beeline for the harbor. Orders were shouted, radios crackled to life. The storm had begun.

Furina clenched her fist, her pulse pounding in her ears. This was it.

She glanced at her left wrist, the Speedmaster strapped tight over her glove, the navy blue NATO strap snug against her skin. A reminder of time—of everything that had led to this moment.

One final battle.

One final mission.

And when it was over—this war would finally end.

Moments Later…

Outside Dymny Kordon Air Force Base, the controlled chaos was at its peak. Trucks rumbled across the tarmac, hauling last-minute supplies and ordnance. Ground crews moved with military precision, their boots striking against the concrete as they prepped for the departure of the Primordial and Waltz Squadrons. Nobody spoke. There was no need. Every single person was focused, hands steady, minds locked onto the mission ahead.

This wasn't just another sortie. This was the final push.

The takeover of Dymny Kordon Air Base had given them a tactical advantage—what was once a two-hour flight into Snezhnayan airspace had now been cut down to just thirty minutes. That meant less time for enemy forces to react. Less time for them to prepare.

The attack on Morepesok was imminent.

Hangar 4 – Furina's Rafale M

The sleek form of Furina's Dassault Rafale M waited in Hangar 4, armed and ready for war.

Her one off livery shimmered under the hangar lights, the golden emblem of a crown over flowing water standing proud on the tail—an unmistakable mark of elegance and devastation. 

Furina exhaled sharply. This is it.

She climbed the integrated ladder built into the fuselage, her movements fluid, practiced. She belonged here. Sliding into the ejection seat, she felt the familiar weight of the cockpit surround her.

Avionics were already online. The cockpit hummed with power, the APU running, screens flickering to life.

She grabbed the shoulder harness, pulling it over her flight suit and securing it tight. A quick tug on the adjuster strap. No slack. No room for error.

Then, she reached for the navigation controls and input her waypoints:

HOME – Dymny Kordon Air Force Base

WAYPOINT ONE – Entry into Morepesok Airspace

WAYPOINT TWO – The Makeshift Resupply Base

WAYPOINT THREE – The Capital, Morepesok.

The plan was locked in.

She grabbed her helmet, sliding it over her head with a practiced motion, then clipped on her oxygen mask. The familiar click was reassuring.

Her hand hovered over the startup switches. This was it.

She flicked the canopy switch beside the parking brake. The glass dome sealed shut, locking her into her war machine.

With a flick of her fingers, she reached for the main electrical switch, flipping it from STBY to RIGHT.

The first M88 turbofan engine began to spool up.

A sharp whine filled the cockpit, rising in pitch. She watched the N2% readout climb—15%… 20%… 25%.

She reached for the engine management lever, pushing it from CUTOFF to IDLE.

The first engine roared to life.

As it stabilized, she repeated the process.

Switching from RIGHT to LEFT.

Another whine. Another ignition.

Now, both engines were online—humming in perfect sync, their power vibrating through the airframe.

Furina took one last deep breath. One final check.

Her fingers danced over switches, verifying fuel flow, hydraulics, radar, and weapons systems. Every system, every gauge—nominal.

Then—the radio.

"Waltz Squadron, callsign check."

A moment of silence. Then—

"Waltz Two, ready to go."

"Waltz Three, let's rock it."

"Waltz Four, time for vengeance."

"Waltz Five, let's end a war."

A smirk curled on Furina's lips. Damn right.

"Waltz Squadron… Sortie."

With that, she disengaged the parking brake.

Furina's Rafale M rolled out of the hangar, gliding onto the taxiway. Her heart pounded. Every movement of the stick, every shift of her hands, was second nature.

She passed Hangar 3 and 5, where Waltz Three and Five were already taxiing out, their aircraft gleaming under the floodlights.

As she entered the main taxiway, Primordial Squadron was already forming up behind them. A moving armada of fighter jets, each carrying the weight of history.

Nobody spoke over the radio. There was nothing left to say.

This wasn't about words anymore.

This was about finishing the war.

It didn't take long to reach the runway threshold.

Furina lined up with the centerline, her Rafale's nose pointed straight ahead. The city of Morepesok lay just thirty minutes beyond the horizon.

Her hand gripped the throttle levers.

She slammed them forward.

The twin M88 turbofans roared.

The afterburners engaged, spitting twin tongues of fire as Furina was slammed back into her seat.

The acceleration was instant. Brutal. Overwhelming.

80 knots.

110 knots.

140 knots.

The HUD flashed.

164 knots—rotation speed.

Furina gently pulled on the sidestick.

The nose lifted.

Her Rafale M left the earth behind.

The ground fell away beneath her, and for a moment, there was silence.

Then—she reached for the gear handle and pulled it up.

The landing gear retracted, locking into place.

One by one, the rest of Waltz Squadron followed, taking off in ten-second intervals—the same way they had done three days ago.

Then came Primordial Squadron, lifting off into the skies like a second wave of retribution.

Before long—the entire strike group was airborne.

Their formation stretched across the sky, like a blade poised to strike.

The battle to capture Morepesok had begun.

It took twenty minutes to reach the capital.

The squadrons had already split—Waltz took the northern sector of Morepesok, while Primordial Squadron swept the south. On the ground, allied forces from six nations launched a coordinated assault against Snezhnayan troops.

Right on cue, AWACS Visionaire updated them.

"Allied ground troops are engaging at three key locations—Reconstruction Park, Iron Gate Bridge, and the Submerged District to the northwest.

"We need both air superiority and close air support. Assist our forces and eliminate all hostiles.

"Time to put an end to this war. Commence!"

Furina smirked. "Alright. Waltz Squadron, let's finish this."

The squadron peeled away, spreading out over the city. Their targets? Enemy aircraft and ground forces.

Air Superiority – Furina's Engagement

Furina checked her IFF—multiple Su-27s were in the air.

"Time to pick you all off."

She locked onto a Su-27 banking left, switching to HCAA missiles.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Three!"

A missile streaked away. Direct hit.

Breaking right, she found another Su-27 diving toward the city. She inverted her Rafale and followed, chasing it as they leveled out just above the rooftops.

The enemy fighter weaved hard left and right, desperately trying to shake her. But it wasn't enough.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

A Sidewinder shot from her wing. Another kill.

Just as she stabilized, a third Su-27 flew across her nose.

Furina chuckled. "Fucking dumbass."

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

The Sidewinder launched, but this time, the Su-27 deployed flares and climbed.

Furina throttled up, afterburners roaring as she pursued. The enemy jet continued a steep climb, but she wasn't letting go.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

The missile hit dead center. Splash three.

Her radio crackled. Jean's voice.

"Remember, everyone—come home in one piece! No casualties!"

"We get that, Chief!" Wriothesley responded. "Nobody's dying today!"

Close Air Support – Clorinde's Attack Run

Clorinde dived toward an intense ground battle. Her IFF highlighted two APCs and four enemy tanks assaulting allied forces.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Three!"

An LACM missile detached from under her wing.

She pulled up, breaking left as the missile struck. Direct hit.

AWACS Visionaire: "Enemy ground support down! Good work!"

A grateful voice came through the allied radio. "Thanks for the close air support! We're in the clear!"

Dogfights – Wriothesley & Collei

Wriothesley was locked in a dogfight with a Gripen E. The Swedish jet banked aggressively, trying to shake him, but Wriothesley anticipated the move. As it turned right, he got a solid tone.

"Fox Two!"

A Sidewinder streaked forward, slamming into the Gripen's fuselage. Direct hit.

AWACS Visionaire: "Splash one Wolfbite!"

Nearby, Collei was engaged with a MiG-29. She fired a Sidewinder, but the enemy deployed flares and went vertical.

Narrowing her eyes, Collei yanked back on the stick, following into the climb.

Higher and higher they went—until the MiG stalled.

She took her chance.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

The missile launched. As it hit, Collei snapped the nose down, diving out before rolling into a hard right turn.

AWACS Visionaire: "Splash one Cuilenen!"

The enemy radio crackled in panic.

"FUCK! IT'S THE PLANE WITH THE GOLD CROWN!"

"TAKE IT OUT! DON'T LET HER WIPE OUT OUR AIR SUPPORT!"

"FIRE THE AA GUNS!"

Clorinde vs. MiG-30

Clorinde was being pursued by a MiG-30. Unlike Furina's enhanced Rafale, hers was a stock model—less maneuverable, but she wasn't outmatched yet.

Weaving right, then left, she baited the enemy into an overshoot.

Then, she made her move.

Slamming the throttle to idle, she stomped on the left rudder and pulled back on the stick. The nose pitched slightly down, but the Rafale spun right in an instant.

The MiG failed to react in time.

Now she was the hunter.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Three!"

Her HCAA missile streaked out, striking the MiG-30 dead on.

AWACS Visionaire: "Splash Rapperia!"

Furina's High-Stakes Maneuver

Furina was tailing another Su-30. They weaved through the sky, trading positions, until suddenly—

The enemy fighter pitched up violently and slowed.

A Pugachev Cobra.

But it was a mistake.

Furina reacted instantly. Slamming her throttles to idle, she yanked back on her sidestick. Her Rafale pitched up 90 degrees, freezing in mid-air.

The Su-30 overshot.

Furina's nose tipped forward—

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

A Sidewinder launched. Direct hit.

AWACS Visionaire: "Splash! That's four confirmed kills!"

Reconstruction Park – Ground Strike

Glancing down, Furina spotted the Reconstruction Park battle.

Her helmet-mounted display tagged enemy units: APCs, tanks, AA guns, and even Apache helicopters.

Flipping inverted, she dived.

Lock. Tone.

"Fox Three!"

An LACM missile launched toward three APCs on the highway. Direct hit.

Pulling up, she rolled around for another pass.

Two tanks were shelling allied forces.

Tone. Lock.

"Bombs away!"

Two bombs fell from her wing, striking their targets. Explosions ripped through the battlefield.

Diving again, she targeted two AA guns. Switching to guns, she squeezed the trigger. Tracer rounds tore through them, detonating their munitions.

Pulling up, she heard the call.

AWACS Visionaire: "Enemy ground support eliminated at Reconstruction Park! Good work!"

Then, an allied voice.

"This is Legatus Three! To the plane with the Gold Crown—thank you!"

The Enemy Breaks

The enemy radio was chaos.

"HQ! WE HAVE TO FALL BACK! WE'RE OUTMATCHED IN THE AIR AND ON THE GROUND!"

"Hold your ground! You've got this!"

But they didn't.

Furina watched as enemy forces began retreating from the city. The tide had turned.

This war was ending.

The Final Push – Southern Morepesok

Two minutes south of Waltz Squadron's position, Primordial Squadron was locking down air superiority.

Unlike the northern sector, Southern Morepesok housed the bulk of Snezhnayan forces—including their Headquarters. The battle here was brutal, with more allied ground troops engaged and enemy reinforcements pouring in.

Despite the overwhelming numbers, Primordial Squadron was carving through.

Jean took down three enemy A-10 Warthogs and two tanks.

Amber eliminated two Su-30s and four APCs.

Ningguang downed two Gripen Es, one MiG-25, and three tanks.

Ei shot down one MiG-29, one Rafale, and destroyed three AA guns.

Mavuika racked up three MiG-25s, one Rafale, and four APCs.

But there were still a handful of enemy fighters left.

Waltz Squadron Reinforcements

Jean was in trouble. A Gripen E was tailing her, weaving hard left and right to avoid a lock.

Her voice came through the radio, urgent.

"Waltz! If you're done up north, we could use some backup! There's more troops here!"

Ei chimed in.

"We've located the Snezhnayan Headquarters. It's right here."

Furina responded instantly.

"Wilco. Waltz Squadron heading your way. ETA in two mikes."

As Jean rolled into a hard right turn, the Gripen got a missile lock.

Jean gritted her teeth. "Deploying flares!"

Just in time, Mavuika appeared on the enemy Su-30's six o'clock.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

The Sidewinder streaked out from her F-15E. Direct hit.

Jean exhaled. "Thanks for the help, Kionzgozi!"

Mavuika winked. "Glad to help, Dandelion!"

Amber vs. F-14A

Amber was locked in a chase with an enemy F-14A. The older-gen fighter was struggling against her Rafale M.

The F-14 pilot made a desperate move, pulling into a steep vertical climb.

Amber followed, matching the ascent.

Then—flames sputtered from the F-14's right engine.

The Tomcat yawed right, its nose dipping. It stalled.

Amber locked on.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

The Sidewinder ripped through the F-14's belly, tearing it in half.

Ningguang vs. F/A-18 – Furina's Intervention

Ningguang was struggling to shake a pursuing F/A-18.

As she turned left, the Hornet got a lock.

The enemy missile launched—but exploded mid-air.

She turned her head.

A sleek Rafale M with a distinctive livery streaked past.

Furina's voice crackled over the radio.

"Content de me voir, ma chérie?" (Glad to see me, darling?)

Ningguang sighed in relief. "Very much, Furina. Thanks for the support!"

"Right." Furina flipped her Rafale into a break turn.

"Waltz Squadron, let's assist our Primordial friends!"

She rolled right, diving into the fight.

Ei Resupplies – The Battle Rages On

Ei's voice came through the radio.

"I'm low on ammo. Heading for the re-supply zone."

Jean responded. "Wilco. We'll hold here."

Ei peeled away, heading north toward the makeshift resupply base.

For the next five minutes, the battle intensified—but the tide was turning. Enemy air units were thinning out.

By the time Ei returned, the skies were almost clear.

The Kill Board

After the intense fighting, the current tally stood:

Furina: 18 confirmed air kills (not including ground targets). Resupplied once.

Jean: 12 air kills. One resupply.

Collei: 10 air kills. No resupplies.

Clorinde: 8 air kills. No resupplies.

Mavuika: 7 air kills. No resupplies.

Ningguang, Ei, Wriothesley, and Amber: 5 each.

Eula: 4 air kills, but an incredible 18 confirmed ground kills. One resupply.

Only four enemy planes remained over Southern Morepesok.

Furina vs. MiG-25 – The Final Kill

Furina locked onto a fleeing MiG-25 Foxbat. The enemy pilot was trying everything—hard turns, erratic movements—but the Foxbat couldn't shake her.

Then, the right engine sputtered.

Furina smirked.

"That's it!"

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Two!"

A Sidewinder streaked from her wing.

Direct hit.

AWACS Visionaire crackled over the radio.

"That's nineteen, Waltz!"

Final Assault – The Naval Fleet

As the skies over Southern Morepesok cleared, a new distress call came through the allied radio.

"This is the Naval Fleet! We're under attack! We need close air support!"

Jean wasted no time.

"Waltz Squadron, head there and support our fleet!"

Furina responded instantly.

"Wilco! Waltz Squadron, follow my lead!"

She pulled into a sharp left turn, heading northwest toward the waters of Morepesok Bay. The rest of her squadron followed, engines roaring.

Naval Battle – Waltz Joins the Fight

Furina got on the radio.

"Naval team, this is Waltz Squadron. ETA to your position: one and a half mikes."

The Naval Lead came back, clearly relieved.

"Oh, Waltz! So glad to hear your voice!"

"We're saved! Lady Luck is on our side!"

Then, a warning.

"Waltz, be advised! They have anti-aircraft weaponry!"

Furina's eyes narrowed.

"Wilco. Waltz Squadron, attack from above and below! Break now!"

The squadron scattered into formation—Waltz Two and Five climbing high, while the others broke left and right, keeping low over the water.

Furina vs. the Aircraft Carrier

Her IFF system locked onto a massive enemy aircraft carrier in the center of the fleet.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Three!"

Two LACM missiles streaked away from her Rafale's wings.

Furina yanked back on the sidestick, climbing for another pass.

Then—a massive explosion rocked the sea.

"Direct hit!"

The allied radio crackled with excitement.

"Their only aircraft carrier has exploded!"

Clorinde and Eula Take Out the Destroyers

Clorinde's IFF locked onto a Snezhnayan destroyer.

Tone. Lock.

"Bombs away!"

Two bombs dropped from her Rafale's wing, striking the warship dead center. A massive explosion followed.

"Enemy destroyer destroyed!"

Eula followed up immediately.

Tone. Lock.

"Special delivery!"

Two more bombs dropped from her F-15E's wings, tearing into another Snezhnayan destroyer.

AWACS Visionaire confirmed the kill.

"Enemy destroyer splashed! Must be one nice barbecue!"

Snezhnayan Panic – Targeting the Golden Crown

The enemy radio crackled in desperation.

"WE LOST 30% OF OUR NAVAL FLEET! IF THIS KEEPS UP, OUR NAVY WILL FALL!"

Then came the command:

"TAKE OUT THAT GOLDEN CROWN PLANE! TAKE IT THE FUCK OUT!"

They wanted Furina dead.

Collei's Low Pass Strike

Flying just above the water, Collei locked onto another enemy destroyer.

Tone. Lock.

"Fox Three!"

An LACM missile shot from her Rafale, striking the warship amidships.

Collei pulled up, soaring through the thick black smoke as the destroyer erupted in flames.

"Enemy destroyer splashed!"

Final Targets – The End of the Fleet

AWACS Visionaire came on the radio.

"The operation is nearly complete!"

"You all went beyond everyone's expectations. We'll all be heroes."

Jean chuckled.

"I don't know what kind of medals they'll give us, but Furina will be stacked with them!"

She added, more serious now:

"But if you all want one, come back home in one piece."

AWACS Visionaire updated the map.

"The Southern Area of Morepesok is clear! All that's left is the naval fleet!"

Furina dove low over the water, locking onto the second-to-last destroyer.

At the same time, Wriothesley locked onto the final enemy warship.

Two tones. Two locks.

"Fox Three!"

"Bombs away!"

An LACM missile launched from Furina's Rafale, while Wriothesley dropped two precision bombs.

Both pilots pulled up sharply, banking toward land as twin explosions ripped through the last two warships.

AWACS Visionaire confirmed:

"That's the last of the naval fleet!"

For a moment, silence.

Then, a final transmission from AWACS Visionaire.

"We have the upper hand! Enemy headquarters is ours!"

"The operation to destroy enemy satellites is underway. Everything is going according to plan!"

"The end of the war is in sight, everyone!"

Cheers erupted from the radios.

"Lets go!"

"Fucking yes!!!"

"The TSSG has done it!"

This was it.

But then.

AWACS Visonaire's voice came through, tense and urgent.

"Attention, Waltz and Primordial Squadron! We have five Su-57s inbound!"

Furina's grip on the controls tightened. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon.

"...The Knave."

And she was right.

From the shimmering waters below, a black and red Su-57 emerged, slicing through the air like a phantom. The jet skimmed low over the waves, heading straight for the coast—fast, aggressive, like a predator closing in on its kill.

Then, without hesitation, it fired.

A missile streaked through the sky, cutting through the air like a razor, and slammed into the hull of an Allied destroyer. The explosion was instant. Flames and debris erupted into the air. Another missile followed, striking a second ship.

The Allied radio erupted into chaos.

"CAPTAIN! SHIPS FOUR AND SIX ARE HIT!"

Furina gritted her teeth. That bitch.

AWACS Visionaire cut in, their voice now carrying a sharp edge.

"I just got word from HQ. New mission objective—take down The Knave."

Furina smirked. "She's all mine."

Her gloved hand slammed the throttles forward, engines roaring as she pushed into full afterburner. Her Rafale surged ahead, the jet screaming as it cut through the sky.

Jean's voice crackled over the radio.

"Waltz One, I'm with you for support!"

And just like that, the chase was on.

The Chase – Sky Hunters

Furina closed the distance quickly, the Knave's Su-57 weaving through the air like a serpent. Above them, Jean held position, ready to disrupt the enemy's maneuvers.

Then, the enemy radio crackled. A voice—calm, confident, laced with arrogance.

"This should be fun... Bring it on."

The Su-57 rolled hard to the right.

Furina mirrored the move, her hands steady on the controls. Every maneuver the Knave executed, she matched perfectly, the two jets locked in a deadly aerial dance.

Then—the lock tone.

Furina's eyes flashed.

"Fox Two!"

Her Rafale spat out two Sidewinders, heat-seeking missiles streaking toward the target.

The first missile missed, spiraling off into the sky. The second hit—the explosion rocking the Su-57. Smoke and flames burst from the fuselage, but the damn thing kept flying.

Furina growled. "COME ON!"

The Knave wasn't going down without a fight.

She banked left, diving low into the flooded ruins of the city. Furina followed without hesitation, weaving through shattered skyscrapers and broken streets, the two jets twisting and turning through the urban battlefield.

Then, suddenly—the Knave pulled a Pugachev Cobra.

The Su-57 snapped back, its nose rising sharply into the air. Furina reacted a second too late—she overshot, and in an instant, the hunter became the hunted.

The enemy radio crackled again, taunting.

"Not bad, pilot with the gold crown. But this… is where you fall."

But Furina knew what to do.

She slammed the throttles to idle and yanked back on the sidestick, simultaneously kicking the rudders hard left.

Her Rafale executed its own Pugachev Cobra, but with a twist—a 360-degree yaw mid-air.

The maneuver was brutal. The G-forces slammed into her body, her vision momentarily blurring. But when it cleared—she was behind the Knave again.

The enemy overshot, and just like that, the fight was back on.

As they carved through the air, another voice came through the radio.

"This is Hearth Five! Bailing out! Good luck!"

Then—the distant sound of an ejector seat deploying.

AWACS Visionaire quickly updated.

"Waltz Five took down a Su-57!"

Jean's voice followed immediately.

"Waltz, I'll distract the Knave! Stay focused and take the shot!"

Furina's stomach twisted. "Dandelion, that's too risky!"

Jean's voice came through again—steady, determined.

"It's a team effort! Don't worry about me!"

And right on cue, Jean's F-15 cut in front of the Su-57, pulling away in a sharp break.

The Knave took the bait.

The Su-57 pivoted mid-air, locking onto Jean.

Furina clenched her teeth. Now or never.

She followed, her Rafale mirroring the enemy's every move as they climbed and banked hard right. Then—another lock tone.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"Fox Three!"

Two HCAA missiles tore through the sky.

One of them struck the Su-57 dead on.

But it kept flying.

"DAMN IT! HOW IN THE FUCK IS IT STILL IN THE AIR?!"

Then, the nightmare.

The enemy radio crackled.

"You shouldn't be chased at all. Taking you out."

A missile launched.

Amber's voice screamed over the radio.

"JEAN!!! MISSILE BEHIND YOU!"

Jean's response was cut short.

"SH—"

An explosion.

Then—static.

Furina's blood ran cold. Her eyes widened as she saw Jean's F-15 spiraling downward, smoke trailing behind it.

"JEAN!!!"

Her jet disappeared into a thick cloud layer. She couldn't see where it crashed.

AWACS Visionaire's voice came through, almost hesitant.

"Primordial One lost.

"Primordial Two… you are in the lead."

Furina's hands trembled on the stick. Then—her grip tightened.

Her voice was cold.

"TU NE T'EN SORTIRAS PAS AVEC ÇA, CONNARD!"

She slammed the throttle to full afterburner.

The fight wasn't over.

She caught up instantly, the two jets engaged in a brutal dogfight over the flooded city. Hard turns, high-G climbs, spiraling dives—each pilot trying to outmaneuver the other.

Then—an opening.

Furina fired.

Two Sidewinders screamed through the sky.

Both hit.

One of the Su-57's engines exploded into flames.

But before she could finish it—the IFF system went static.

The Su-57 broke right and vanished.

"Wh—what the hell!?"

The allied radios erupted into confusion.

"I lost radar contact!"

"I lost the two squadrons!"

Then—Eula's voice.

"Look! Toward the sun!"

Furina glanced up.

Five bright objects hung in the sky.

Her breath hitched. "Shit... The satellites."

The enemy radio crackled one last time.

"Hearth Squadron, return to base. It's not safe to stick around."

AWACS Visionaire's voice followed.

"All units, return to base. We have the capital... But… Jean…"

A pause.

"I—I'm sorry."

Silence filled the squadron's formation as they turned north toward Dymny Kordon Air Force Base.

Jean was gone.

Shot down by the Knave.

The squadron flew in silence, climbing to 15,000 feet as they made their way back north to Dymny Kordon Air Force Base.

But no one spoke.

Jean was gone…

Shot down by the Knave.

The weight of the loss pressed on Furina's chest like a vice. She had seen Jean's F-15 spiral out of the sky, swallowed by the thick cloud cover below. No chute. No beacon. No sign of survival.

She clenched her teeth, her grip tightening on the controls.

Damn it…

As they formed up as a squadron, AWACS Visionaire broke the silence, their voice cutting through the radio.

"I got something."

Furina's brows furrowed. What now?

"A blip on my radar. Looks like it's heading toward us."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Who could it be?"

Then—right on cue—a lone fighter jet streaked past her.

An F-14B.

Furina's heart nearly stopped.

She turned her head sharply to the left, eyes locked on the aircraft flying alongside her.

"Who the hell is that!?"

Then—the radio crackled.

A voice. Familiar. Impossible.

"Hey, Waltz and Primordial Squadron... still there?"

Furina's breath caught in her throat.

No way.

That voice…

"JEAN!?"

The pilot chuckled. "You got it."

Amber's voice practically exploded over the radio.

"JEAN!? HOW IN THE HELL!?"

Jean let out a long sigh, as if shaking off the weight of what just happened.

"I was hit from behind, but I managed to eject."

A pause. Then—

"I couldn't reach the radio, but I landed at a makeshift airfield near the flooded area. And sitting by a hangar was this F-14B."

Furina's jaw nearly dropped.

"So… I stole it."

For a moment, there was only silence. Then—

Furina exhaled sharply, a choked sound escaping her lips. She lifted a hand from the controls, wiping away the tears that had begun to gather in her eyes.

"Jean… Holy shit… I—I thought you were dead!"

Jean's voice was steady, but laced with something softer now.

"I may have been shot down… but the Dandelion never goes down without a fight. I will always rise back up."

Furina let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head.

"And so you did."

With that, the two squadrons regrouped, forming up in a tight formation as they turned northward.

They flew together, cutting across the open skies, heading home—back to Dymny Kordon Air Force Base.

Hours Later – Briefing Room, Dymny Kordon Air Force Base

The mood in the room was suffocating. A heavy cloud of exhaustion, uncertainty, and the lingering adrenaline from battle hung over the pilots like an unwelcome guest. The only sound was the occasional shuffle of boots against the floor as they waited for Jean to begin.

Jean stood at the front, her arms crossed, expression unreadable. The soft hum of the overhead lights cast sharp shadows on her face, making the scars and stress lines from war stand out even more. She let out a long breath before finally speaking.

"Looks like we'll be setting up shop here for a while," she began, her voice calm but edged with the weight of their situation.

Eyes flickered toward her, some filled with quiet concern, others hardened by the reality of war. No one spoke. No one interrupted. They just listened.

Jean continued, "Other Allied aircraft were most likely forced to make emergency landings elsewhere. We don't have much intel on their status, as both Snezhnayan and Teyvat communication satellites were taken out. That means..." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before delivering the next blow.

"...We've lost all contact with Headquarters. No command, no reinforcements, no logistics. We're on our own."

A murmur spread through the room, hushed but undeniable.

Furina leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. "So what you're telling us," she said slowly, voice laced with irritation, "is that we're isolated? Completely cut off?"

Jean nodded, her jaw tight. "Completely."

A heavy silence settled over them like a thick fog.

"The mission to capture the capital was a success," Jean continued, trying to shift the focus to what they had accomplished. "But the length of this war? The end of it?" She shook her head. "That's something even I can't figure out right now."

She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her tousled blonde hair. "Apparently, the enemy had the same idea—taking out Teyvat's satellites. Which means..." She looked around the room, making sure everyone was paying attention.

"We have no idea when—or even if—they will come back online."

The air felt even heavier now. The realization was setting in.

No satellite coverage meant no guidance systems, no long-range communication. They weren't just cut off from command—they were cut off from the entire world.

Jean's gaze lingered on the squadron, reading their reactions. Some had their fists clenched. Others sat stone-faced, processing the situation in their own way.

Finally, she sighed and straightened her posture. "Everyone... Dismissed."

Chairs scraped against the floor as pilots rose from their seats, muttering amongst themselves. Some exchanged tired glances before filing out of the room, leaving only Jean, Furina, Amber, and Clorinde behind.

Jean let out a slow breath and slumped into her chair. Furina stood by the supply cabinet, rummaging through it before pulling out a pair of beer bottles. She walked over to Jean and handed her one without a word.

Jean took the bottle and twisted the cap off with ease, bringing it to her lips. The cold liquid burned slightly as it went down—just what she needed. Furina did the same, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"I'm so fucking glad you made it," Furina muttered, swirling the beer in her bottle.

Jean nodded, taking another sip. "Yeah… thankfully, the cockpit wasn't hit. If it was…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

Furina gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah. That was how Nocturne Two was killed. A missile struck her F/A-18's cockpit. She never even had a chance to eject."

Jean lowered her gaze for a moment before speaking softly. "I'm sorry."

Furina shook her head. "Don't be. You survived, Jean. You're alive. That's what matters."

Amber, who had been sitting quietly until now, sighed and leaned back against the wall. "But Jean... with you in an F-14B, you'll need someone to handle the Navigation seat. That thing wasn't built for solo flying."

Jean nodded, tapping her bottle lightly against the table. "Yeah, I know… and I already have someone in mind."

She turned her head toward Amber and smirked slightly. "I'm looking at you."

Amber blinked, caught off guard. Then a slow grin spread across her face. "Me?"

Jean nodded. "Yeah. You up for it?"

Amber scoffed, shaking her head in amusement. "Are you kidding? Hell yes."

Jean chuckled. "Then welcome to Primordial One."

Furina smirked, lifting her bottle. "To Jean and Amber, then."

Amber grinned and grabbed her own bottle, clinking it against theirs. "To Primordial One."

Jean smirked and took a final sip. "And to ending this damn war—however long it takes."

They sat in silence for a few more moments, enjoying the brief reprieve.

But in the back of their minds, they all knew the truth.

The battle for the capital was over.

But with the satellites down and communication cut off…

This war was far from finished.

And it might just last a hell of a lot longer than any of them expected.