November 17
1545 Hours
Three days had passed since the sinking of the Faxi-class submarine carrier Nuckelavee—a strike that shook the entire Natlan front. In the aftermath, the pilots of Wolfsbane Squadron were granted a rare and much-needed three-day downtime.
But the war hadn't paused with them.
The day after Nuckelavee was sent to the seafloor, a coordinated push began. Ground forces from Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Fontaine, and Sumeru advanced inland toward Natlan's capital. The northern sector of Deshret Desert became a frontline hot zone.
In a major joint sortie—Operation Desert Assault—Fontaine's 405th Armée de l'Air Squadron, Mondstadt's 21st Tactical Bombing Squadron, and Liyue's 8th Tactical Fighter Squadron delivered devastating airstrikes. A key Natlan HQ and its supporting airfield were reduced to ash. Even more decisive was the confirmed downing of a Natlan AWACS E-3 Sentry by Nocturne Two, TAC name Ritesword. That left Natlan with only two remaining E-3s. Air dominance was tipping.
And for Wolfsbane Squadron, there was personal momentum too. The day after the assault, three pilots were promoted:
Mona Megistus and Teppei were bumped from First Lieutenant to Captain—finally joining Emilie in rank. Kamisato Ayaka moved up to First Lieutenant.
Now, the four sat in Petrichor Air Base's briefing room, back in flight suits and helmets at their sides. The break was over.
"Man! I tell ya," Teppei groaned as he stretched, "feels real good to finally be a captain."
He shot Emilie a playful grin, wagging a finger at her. "That means I'm finally on par with you, huh?"
Emilie chuckled. "You wish. You're not lead flight, Teppei." She wagged her finger back. "Seniority still puts me in command."
Teppei shrugged, mock-defeated. "Yeah, yeah. But hey—we've got nicknames now!"
Mona smiled softly. "Demons of Emberhowl…"
"Exactly!" Teppei beamed. "Gonna check in with AWACS like—Emberhoooowl Three, airborne!" He flared his voice, mimicking a dramatic radio call.
Before the laughter could continue, the briefing room door slammed open.
"Silence."
Teppei sighed under his breath. "Here comes the base commander…"
The screen lit up, displaying tactical maps and intelligence data. Commander Courbevoie stepped forward, stern and composed as ever.
"Listen up. New operation."
He tapped the map, focusing on Deshret Desert's Safhe region.
"Earlier today, during a coordinated strike in the Safhe area, a Natlan POW camp was discovered at Safhe Shantranj. Ground forces successfully assaulted the camp and secured the perimeter. Our troops have taken control of the camp's radio relay station."
He turned, voice hardening.
"A trio of helicopters from Sea Monster Rescue Team is en route to extract the prisoners. Your mission is to provide close air support. Intercept any Natlan forces attempting to retake the site. You'll be holding a patrol pattern over the AO and are cleared to engage hostile ground or air units."
"Maintain air superiority. Do not let anything through."
He glanced around the room. "Dismissed."
The pilots rose, helmets in hand. No more jokes. The reality of another combat sortie set in.
As they made their way across the flight line, the late afternoon sun poured over the desert horizon. Heat shimmered on the concrete as F-14s were readied for launch.
Mona finally broke the silence.
"You think Captain Candace might be one of the POWs there?"
Emilie gave her a sidelong glance, shoulders rising in a small shrug. "Beats me, Mona. Could be. Could not."
Mona's gaze lingered on the skies ahead. "If she is, I want to get a closer look when they fly them out."
Emilie shook her head. "Too risky. Have you read the Deshret reports lately? Sandstorm's rolling in. Visibility will be low, even for us."
Mona sighed, lips tight. But she kept walking.
The four pilots peeled off toward their assigned Tomcats.
Emilie climbed the ladder into her F-14A and eased into the ejection seat. Helmet in lap, she fastened the harness, then slid the helmet on with practiced motion. Her gloved hand reached up, flicking the canopy seal switch.
Hiss—slam—click.
The cockpit sealed. The outside world vanished behind thick polycarbonate and reinforced frames.
A moment later, the twin TF30 engines rumbled to life beneath her. One by one, the rest of Wolfsbane Squadron powered up and began taxiing, forming a tight diamond on the tarmac.
Within minutes, all four F-14s were airborne, claws tearing into the sky as they banked southwest—toward the sandstorm-ridden expanse of the Deshret Desert.
Another mission.
Another fight.
And maybe… another chance to bring someone home.
And their Captain...
As soon as they arrived at the Area of Operations,
they were greeted by a sandstorm.
They flew low—just 1,300 feet AGL.
Emilie shook her head.
"Damn… Now the base commander's sending us right into a death trap. Not like we've got Sea Monster's IR cameras."
Ayaka sighed.
"But Captain, can you see the POW camp?"
Emilie shook her head again.
"Yeah, sure. I've got an IR camera on my visor. No, Soumetsu... No, I don't."
Teppei nodded.
"Well, we should be seeing the site soon though."
Ayaka added,
"Out of curiosity… do you think we'll find Captain Candace among the POWs?"
Teppei chuckled.
"I bet she is! She's probably cussin' out all the other POWs and takin' charge right now. Heh, right, Megistus?"
Mona sighed but remained silent.
Teppei's tone dropped.
"You're not… blaming yourself for what happened, are you?"
Mona keyed her radio.
"No…"
Emilie sighed.
"Mona, it's not your fault. Don't take the blame. It was Candace's responsibility as flight lead."
She paused.
"And now you all are my responsibility."
Mona slowly nodded.
"Right…"
Emilie glanced at her radar.
"Heads up, everyone. We've got a couple of bogeys inbound."
Their radio crackled.
"Fighters! We can hear the roar of your engines! This is Sea Monster Ground, currently stationed by the POW camp. Standing by for the rescue team."
"Man, I swear… I thought if I joined the Marines, we'd be doing tropical beach ops… but never mind that. We've got the POWs safe and sound."
Teppei chuckled.
"This is Emberhowl Three—looks like you'll have to babysit them a little longer. We've got a couple bogeys here, so sit tight. We got you."
Sea Monster Ground responded:
"Roger… say, are you the squadron from Petrichor Island?"
Emilie replied,
"That's right."
"Yahoo! Looks like we've got the Demons of Emberhowl on our side! Can't wait to see what you can do up close!"
Emilie chuckled, shaking her head.
She glanced at her HUD—two F-16Cs were patrolling the area.
"Man… up, down, left, right—it's all brown!"
She flicked her thumb switch to her XLAA missiles.
The targeting system chirped—lock acquired.
Tone.
"Fox Three, Fox Three!"
Two missiles streaked away from her F-14A's belly, leaving contrails that vanished into the desert haze.
Emilie slammed the throttles to full afterburner.
"Raven, engaging!"
Contact.
One XLAA missile slammed into the first F-16, tearing it apart. No chute. No ejection. Just flame and debris.
The second F-16 broke right. Emilie snapped left, giving chase.
They weaved through the sky, desert wind pushing hard. Vapor trails misted over their wings—tight, high-G turns carving through the sand-choked air.
The F-16 suddenly snapped into a sharp 180-degree turn.
Emilie followed—but her F-14's turning radius was wider. Still, it was enough.
Lock.
Tone.
She thumbed over to her Sidewinders.
"Fox Two!"
One missile shot off the rail.
The F-16 tried another hard break—too late.
The missile clipped its left wing clean off. The jet spiraled, disintegrating on impact with the sand.
"Raven has a splash!"
Then—
Thunderspike chimed in over the radio.
"Warning: Three Panavia Tornados inbound on your position. Bearing 278!"
Teppei laughed.
"This is Emberhoooowl Three! Roger that!"
Thunderspike cut in again.
"What the hell did you just say?"
Sea Monster Ground chimed in with dry humor.
"These pilots are tired. They've seen worse."
"Yeah, no kidding. Stuck in a POW camp in the middle of the damn desert? They've been here since October. The heat's hellish."
Then the Sea Monster rescue choppers broke in.
"This is Sea Monster One-Two and One-Three. ETA to destination: 5 mikes. What's the air superiority status?"
Teppei keyed his mic.
"Based on our pre-flight intel? These are the last three. The Nats know flying in a sandstorm's risky."
"Heh. Good on them."
Meanwhile—Emilie was being chased by one of the Tornados.
She weaved left and right, dodging lock-ons. The Tornado stayed tight behind her.
Emilie gritted her teeth.
"I've had enough of you!"
She slammed her throttles into full burner, reached for the wing sweep lever, and pushed it all the way forward.
The F-14A's wings extended from their swept-back position.
Then she yanked the stick back—rapid climb.
Cut the left throttle to idle, kept the right at full. Slammed the stick left.
Her jet bled speed, the left wing stalled—on purpose.
The Tomcat snapped into a wingover descent, spiraling.
She equalized the throttles mid-spin—regaining control.
The Tornado overshot, turning right.
Emilie brought the nose up, sliding in behind it.
"Gotcha."
Fox Two. Fox Two.
Two Sidewinders screamed off the rails.
Direct hit.
The Tornado disintegrated mid-air.
"Splash one, Raven!"
She broke right, dodging the smoke and wreckage.
Teppei keyed up.
"Chasing the second Tornado! One left!"
Another call—
"Sea Monster here—2 mikes to destination!"
Teppei rolled left and right, mirroring the Tornado's evasive moves.
Then the Tornado snapped into a half-barrel roll and leveled out.
Teppei followed hard—slamming the throttle forward.
His F-14 nosed up—until he was inverted—then leveled.
The Tornado was dead ahead.
Lock.
Tone.
"Missile away!"
Two Sidewinders launched.
Direct hit.
The Tornado spun out of control and slammed into the sand, erupting in flames.
Ayaka keyed in.
"We're almost there! One more to go!"
Mona's eyes narrowed, her tone cold and final.
"It's all mine."
She slammed the throttles forward—full afterburner. The TF30 engines howled as her F-14A surged ahead.
The Tornado ADV screamed towards her, nose-on in a head-to-head charge. Both aircraft locked horns in a deadly joust. Mona's thumb flicked to the weapon selector—XLAA. The targeting reticle danced for only a moment before stabilizing.
Tone.
"Fox Three!"
One AIM-54A Phoenix missile detached from the belly rail with a shudder, its booster igniting seconds later in a brilliant white trail. But the Tornado wasn't idle—it fired too. Another missile sliced through the sky, screaming head-on.
The two missiles passed each other mid-air—barely meters apart.
Mona rolled hard, ailerons slicing the air as her Tomcat corkscrewed. The Tornado's missile missed by inches, streaking between her twin vertical stabilizers.
The Tornado wasn't so lucky.
Direct hit.
The Phoenix obliterated the cockpit, fire and debris scattering as the fuselage sheared in half. The wreckage spiraled earthward in a trail of smoke.
Mona leveled her bird and broke right, scanning.
"Last target down," she called out.
"Nice work!" Emilie responded over comms, her tone laced with pride.
Just then, a new voice cracked through the radio, rough and urgent.
"This is Sea Monster! We're landing at the camp now. ETA to departure, two minutes!"
Three UH-60 Black Hawks descended in formation, rotors kicking up clouds of sand as they touched down with precision. The sliding doors snapped open, rescue teams flooding out to assist the exhausted POWs. Ground troops secured the perimeter in a flurry of practiced motion.
The four F-14s of the squadron formed up overhead, circling the site.
"Looks like they made it," Emilie murmured.
Suddenly, Mona broke formation and dove toward the camp.
Teppei laughed.
"Looks like Megistus wants a closer look."
Mona brought her Tomcat low and slow, engines throttled back as she skimmed above the tents and landing pads. Below, the rescue operation was wrapping up. The POWs were being loaded aboard the helicopters, and with a coordinated burst of power, the Black Hawks lifted off one by one, turning northeast.
"This is Sea Monster. We've got our POWs. Great work up there!"
"Can you see their smiling faces? They send their thanks!"
Mona keyed her mic, a sudden thought cutting through her mind like lightning.
"Sea Monster—check for a Captain Candace. Confirm if she's aboard."
A brief pause.
"Say again?"
"Captain Candace. Is she among the rescued? Check your manifest."
Radio chatter sparked to life.
"Sea Monster One—negative. No Candace aboard."
"Sea Monster Two—nothing."
"Sea Monster Three—no one by that name here either."
Mona's breath hitched. Her grip tightened on the stick.
"That... that can't be right. Ch-check again. Please."
But the next sound wasn't confirmation—it was the wail of a missile alert.
"Missile launch! SAM site—unknown location!"
A single SAM roared out of a hidden launcher below, trailing thick plumes of white smoke as it locked onto Mona's heat signature.
"Damn it, Megistus!" Teppei barked. "Lose that missile!"
Mona's engines screamed as she slammed the throttles forward again—afterburners kicking in, twin shock diamonds flaring behind her. The Tomcat banked hard, weaving through the desert sky in a desperate attempt to shake the lock.
One of the UH-60s, still nearby, fired a Hellfire missile downward—the hidden SAM site exploded in a ball of flame. But the missile was already airborne.
Mona pitched up violently, nose climbing into the upper atmosphere. G-forces pinned her back in the seat.
Her voice cracked.
"After all Captain Candace said to me… I—"
She hesitated. Her grip loosened.
The Tomcat stopped maneuvering, climbing steadily—too steadily.
Too slow.
The missile struck the tail section.
Impact.
A brilliant flash—metal and flame. The sound of an ejection seat fired milliseconds later.
Then the fireball.
"MEGISTUS!!" Emilie screamed. "Respond!"
Silence.
Then—static.
And finally:
"...I'm fine."
"The plane's gone. But those are replaceable anyway."
Relief washed over the airwaves. Then came Sea Monster again.
"Sea Monster One to Three—taking our guests home. Mind grabbing our pretty lady?"
"Sea Monster Three—roger. En route to the landing point, but this storm's building fast. We'll try!"
The third Black Hawk peeled off, banking hard toward Mona's last known coordinates.
Up above, Emilie, Teppei, and Ayaka held their breath.
Seconds passed.
Then minutes.
Then—
"Sea Monster Three has crashed!"
The comms lit up in panic.
"Fuck!" the pilot of Sea Monster One shouted. "This sandstorm is getting worse by the second!"
Teppei's voice roared into the comms, furious and helpless.
"We can't just leave her down there!"
Emilie's tone was sharp, commanding.
"Look—I hate it too. But we can't do anything until the weather clears!"
Teppei slammed a fist against his canopy.
"Damn it! Isn't there anything we can do?!"
Ayaka exhaled softly, her voice calm but heavy.
"No. All we can do... is wait."
The four F-14s and the remaining helicopters banked northeast, back toward Fontaine airspace—toward Petrichor.
And all that remained behind…
Was Mona Megistus.
And the downed crew of Sea Monster Three.
Waiting.
Until the skies allowed them to be saved.
Hours Later…
The three F-14s finally touched down on the rain-slick runway of Petrichor Air Base.
Alongside them, Sea Monster One and Two returned safely. The rescued POWs were immediately transferred to medical personnel and later flown out aboard a transport en route to the Fontaine mainland.
Night had fallen, and with it came a heavy downpour. But the rain wasn't what weighed on everyone.
Inside the dimly lit briefing room, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Commander Courbervie stood in front of the seated pilots—Emilie, Teppei, and Ayaka—his expression as grim as the weather.
"Despite the rescue operation's overall success… we have one pilot unaccounted for. Captain Mona Megistus."
A beat of silence. Thunder echoed faintly outside.
"Central Command has confirmed her F-14A was lost in the explosion. A replacement Tomcat will be delivered from stock. But that's not what matters right now."
He looked at each of them, slowly.
"Search and Rescue operations will begin at first light. Weather permitting."
He paused again, this time with a subtle frown.
"As for Captain Candace... None of the recovered POWs reported seeing her in the camp."
Courbervie shook his head slightly.
"Hmph. I wonder where she could be…"
A moment passed before he straightened up.
"All of you—dismissed."
The pilots rose without a word. Ayaka and Teppei quietly exited toward their quarters.
Emilie lingered.
Then stormed off.
Back in her quarters, Emilie slammed the door shut with a sharp bang that echoed off the walls.
"God damn it, Megistus!" she snapped, pacing in a tight circle.
"I told you to stay in formation!"
She tore off her gloves, throwing them to the floor, and collapsed into the small bunk. Running both hands through her hair, she crouched forward, gripping her head.
"God… damn it, Megistus…"
Her voice cracked slightly, the fury now tangled with raw exhaustion. She dragged her hand down her face, then stared blankly at the floor.
"I swear to the fucking Archons… when I find you…"
She stood up suddenly, clenching her fists.
"…I'm gonna drag your sorry ass back myself, and then we're gonna have a goddamn talk."
Her voice dropped to a seethe.
"I told you to stay in formation…"