The sun rose over the Dorman Sea, casting an orange glow over the vast expanse of water. The Ousia-class aircraft carrier, Blancheur, sliced through the waves, sailing northward toward Snezhnayan waters.
This was the beginning of Operation Northern Front.
Their destination: Okamenely Stol—one of the largest contested zones near the border of Snezhnaya.
Inside the Carrier – Preparing for the Mission
Inside her quarters, Furina sat at the edge of her bed, finishing the last steps of gearing up.
She zipped up her Fontaine Air Force pilot suit, a navy-green flight suit designed for both mobility and protection. She leaned down, tightening the laces of her brown combat boots, ensuring a firm fit.
Next, she reached for her standard-issue Beretta 92, the familiar weight of the pistol resting comfortably in her hands before she holstered it to her left side.
With everything in place, she stood up, rolled her shoulders, and exhaled.
She glanced at her watch—the navy-blue NATO-strapped Speedmaster she never went without.
07:00 AM.
She still had time.
"Might as well check on my plane," she muttered to herself before stepping out of her room.
The hallways of the Blancheur were alive with activity—crew members moving with urgency, engineers checking systems, officers reviewing last-minute details.
Furina moved through them with purpose, heading straight for the carrier deck.
The Blancheur's flight deck was a storm of movement. Deck crew members darted between aircraft, conducting pre-flight inspections, refueling, and arming jets with live ordnance.
At the rear of the carrier's island, the Nocturne Squadron's F/A-18s were lined up, their fuselages shimmering in the morning light.
At the front of the island, the Tidal Squadron's aircraft stood ready.
Lyney's F-35 Lightning II sat among them, but only one jet stood out from the rest—Furina's Dassault Rafale M.
Her custom-painted fighter, with its deep blue, sky blue, dark grey, and white livery, gleamed under the rising sun. The golden crown emblem on its tail shimmered with an almost regal presence.
Furina approached her aircraft, her eyes scanning every detail.
A single extra fuel pod was mounted on the centerline fuselage, ensuring extended range for the upcoming mission. Air-to-air Sidewinders were loaded beneath the wings. But what caught her attention were the air-to-ground LACM missiles attached to the pylons.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
"LACMs? We're running ground strikes for this mission?"
It was a subtle shift from pure air superiority to multi-role engagement. This meant their mission would involve targeting ground-based assets—and likely enemy defenses.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of an F-35 preparing for launch at the front of the carrier.
Curious, she made her way toward the launch area, standing at a safe distance as the sequence unfolded.
The firewall behind the jet's exhaust rose, shielding the deck from the immense heat of the engine.
The pilot signaled the crew, pointing forward, then giving a sharp salute before gripping the launch handle.
The launch crew crouched in position, giving their final thumbs-up before one crew member—the shooter—raised his hand, returned the salute, then crouched and pointed forward in a swift motion.
The catapult fired.
The F-35 surged forward, launching off the carrier with a roar, disappearing into the sky.
Furina crossed her arms, watching the jet climb sharply, its afterburner leaving a faint orange glow.
She narrowed her eyes, smirking slightly.
"Launching off the carrier never gets old," she muttered before turning back toward the carrier's island.
It would be her turn soon.
Minutes later, both Tidal and Nocturne Squadrons were gathered inside the carrier's briefing room.
The atmosphere was tense—everyone knew what was coming.
Admiral Augereau strode onto the stage, his expression serious and commanding. He wasted no time.
"Alright, let's begin."
His voice carried weight, silencing the low murmurs among the pilots.
"If you aren't aware already, the Federation of Snezhnaya has declared war on all Teyvat nations. They have mobilized their Air Force, Navy, Army, and Marines. If it hasn't sunk in yet—we are at war."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"Immediately after their declaration, they launched surprise attacks on multiple nations, allowing them to capture massive amounts of territory."
The display screen behind him flickered to life, showing a detailed tactical map of Teyvat.
Red zones marked Snezhnaya's captured territories—and it was staggering.
Almost all of Teyvat had fallen.
Only small pockets of blue—representing friendly forces—remained.
The realization hit hard. Murmurs spread across the room.
Snezhnaya was winning.
Admiral Augereau raised a hand, instantly silencing the pilots.
"So far, they have inflicted severe damage on our armed forces. And now, they are pushing from the West, moving deeper into our territory."
He paused, his gaze hardening.
"Additionally, Snezhnayan forces have captured the Teyvat Orbital Elevator. This structure was meant to symbolize peace after the ceasefire treaty was signed 40 years ago. Construction began in 2013, and for years, it stood as a neutral entity.
But now?
Whoever controls it has a massive strategic advantage—one that could determine the outcome of this war."
A grim realization set in among the pilots.
Whoever held the Orbital Elevator held the power to dictate the war's direction.
The Admiral's gaze swept over the room, locking eyes with the squadron leaders.
"As of today, the Charybdis 405th Squadron has been given a direct order: We are to reclaim and capture the Teyvat Orbital Elevator as an advance element."
He turned, pointing at the display as it zoomed in on their first target zone.
"Your mission today: Engage and eliminate enemy forces approaching from the north at Okamenely Stol. Your primary objective is to neutralize all hostile ground forces, including anti-aircraft units and radar vehicles stationed along key roads."
Additionally, be prepared for possible aerial engagements.
If Snezhnaya sends fighters to intercept—take them down. Our goal is to establish air superiority."
A final pause.
The Admiral stood straight, his tone unwavering.
"Everyone—to your planes. Sortie immediately. You are dismissed."
Without hesitation, every pilot in the room stood up, heading straight for the carrier deck.
The war had truly begun.
And today, they would take the fight to the enemy.
The main deck of the Blancheur was alive with movement.
Compared to the last time Furina was up here, it was now twice as chaotic—a symphony of controlled chaos.
Steam billowed from the catapults, their powerful systems primed and ready. Deck crew in color-coded vests rushed between aircraft, making final adjustments, signaling pilots, and ensuring that every system was operating at peak efficiency.
All four launch pads were now active, capable of launching four aircraft at once.
The two squadrons moved to their respective aircraft.
Nocturne Squadron headed toward the aft section of the carrier, where their F/A-18s awaited, sleek and deadly under the morning light.
Meanwhile, Tidal Squadron made their way toward their assigned aircraft at the front of the island.
Lyney and Furina walked in unison, the roar of the engines and the hum of activity surrounding them.
As they neared their jets, Lyney glanced at Furina.
"Ready to go, Lieutenant?"
Furina smirked, adjusting the cuffs of her flight suit.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Lyney nodded, his expression serious but calm.
"Good. Just be ready for anything. Remember—sometimes, don't think. Just do."
Furina chuckled, shaking her head slightly.
"I already knew that."
The pair arrived at their aircraft and parted ways without another word.
Furina climbed the in-built ladder of her Rafale, sliding herself smoothly into the ejection seat.
With practiced efficiency, she buckled and tightened her harness, securing herself in place before reaching for the cockpit controls.
She flicked on the main electrical system and powered up the auxiliary power unit (APU). The cockpit displays flickered to life, illuminating with green and amber indicators.
With the flight plan papers in her hand, she quickly inputted the three primary coordinates into her navigation system:
The Blancheur (Home Waypoint)
The Entrance to Snezhnayan Territory
The Mission Objective at Okamenely Stol
Everything was set.
Her fuel tanks were topped off, and her aircraft was fully armed for the mission ahead.
With a final nod to herself, she locked the canopy, sealing herself in before starting both M88 engines.
A deep rumble vibrated through the fuselage as the twin engines roared to life.
Ten minutes later, the first four Nocturne Squadron fighters were lined up on the catapults, ready for launch.
Nocturne Five had been ordered to remain on standby aboard the carrier in case of emergencies.
The radio crackled to life as each pilot confirmed their readiness.
"Nocturne One, ready to launch."
"Nocturne Two, ready for launch."
"Nocturne Three, ready to go."
"Nocturne Four, let's turn and burn."
The carrier tower responded.
"Nocturne Squadron, launch sequence confirmed. It's go time."
The firewalls behind each aircraft's exhaust lifted, shielding the deck from the afterburners' intense heat.
The ground crew took their positions, crouching low, hands signaling the final checks.
Then—Nocturne One launched.
A sudden roar as the catapult fired, flinging the F/A-18 forward at insane acceleration.
Thirty seconds later—Nocturne Two launched.
Then Nocturne Three.
Then Nocturne Four.
AWACS Zaytun came in over the radio.
"Nocturne Squadron away."
The carrier tower's voice followed shortly after.
"Tidal One, Tidal Two—proceed to Catapult One and Catapult Two, respectively."
Furina released the parking brake, nudging the throttle slightly forward, guiding her Rafale M into motion.
She rolled forward toward Catapult Two, coming to a halt beside Lyney's F-35 on Catapult One.
Ahead of her, the Shooter—the deck crew member responsible for launch signals—stood ready.
The Shooter directed Furina's nose wheel to the exact alignment with the catapult track.
Then, he signaled her to lower the launch bar.
Furina reached forward, flicking the launch bar switch just ahead of her sidestick.
A soft whirr followed as the bar lowered into position, locking onto the catapult shuttle.
The deck crew immediately moved in, securing the connection.
Moments later, the Shooter signaled her for flight control checks.
Furina nodded, gripping the sidestick and rudder pedals as she ran through a precise, methodical check:
Stick forward—elevators down.
Stick back—elevators up.
Stick left—ailerons tilt left.
Stick right—ailerons tilt right.
Rudder pedals left and right—rudder deflection confirmed.
Her Rafale M responded perfectly, each movement sharp and fluid.
Satisfied, she gave the final launch signal—a firm push forward with her hand and a sharp salute.
Now, she waited.
Lyney was first.
The Shooter raised his hand, then saluted before crouching down and pointing forward—the universal signal for launch.
A thunderous roar erupted as the catapult fired.
Lyney's F-35 Lightning II shot forward, accelerating off the carrier in a blink of an eye, its afterburners flaring as it climbed sharply.
Now, it was Furina's turn.
The deck crew moved into position.
The Shooter locked eyes with her, giving a sharp salute before crouching and pointing forward.
Launch confirmed.
Furina took a deep breath, fingers tightening around the stick and throttle levers.
Then—she slammed the throttles to full power.
The Rafale's twin M88 engines roared, their deep hum escalating into a furious howl.
Afterburners engaged.
The carrier's deck vibrated under the sheer force of the engine output.
Then—the catapult fired.
The Rafale M launched forward at an unrelenting speed, pressing Furina hard against her seat.
She gritted her teeth, keeping her grip firm as the aircraft rocketed off the carrier's deck.
For a brief moment, there was a feeling of weightlessness—then she was airborne.
Furina pulled slightly on the stick, letting the nose pitch up smoothly, before reaching for the gear lever and pulling it up.
A soft thud confirmed the landing gear had fully retracted.
The carrier tower's voice followed shortly after.
"Tidal Squadron away. Safe flight, guys."
As Furina climbed into formation with Lyney, she exhaled, steadying herself.
The sun reflected off her canopy, and below them, the carrier faded into the distance.
For the first time, it truly sank in.
This wasn't training.
This wasn't a drill.
This was war.
And from this moment on—there was no turning back.
It took them thirty minutes to reach land.
As they passed their first waypoint, the coastline gave way to enemy-controlled territory, a mix of forested hills, open plains, and hardened military infrastructure.
Then, AWACS Zaytun came over the radio.
"Begin the mission. Take out all enemy targets. And remember—HQ said no harm to civilians."
Furina smirked.
"Let's go."
Without hesitation, she slammed her throttles forward, her Rafale M accelerating ahead of the squadron, breaking formation with Nocturne and Tidal Squadrons.
Her heads-up display (HUD) lit up—dozens of red targets appeared.
Tidal and Nocturne Squadron Engage
Lynette's voice came over the radio.
"Wilco. Following Tidal Two."
The rest of the squadron followed.
"Nocturne Three, following Waltz."
"Nocturne Four, following Waltz."
"Tidal One, following the Waltz."
"Nocturne Two, following Waltz."
Then, Nocturne Flight Lead, Lynette, chimed in.
"Nocturne One, following Waltz."
Furina's eyes widened slightly.
"Following Waltz, huh? Great…" she muttered.
She quickly switched to Special Weapon 2—LACMs (Land Attack Cruise Missiles).
Her HUD locked onto the first enemy target—a radar vehicle.
"Fox Three!" she called out.
A LACM detached from the Rafale's wing, rocketing toward the radar installation before striking it head-on. A shockwave erupted, sending debris flying.
On their third frequency, the enemy's radio chatter came to life, broadcasting in their cockpits.
"They're attacking! We need aerial support! Fire the AA systems!"
Snezhnayan ground troops panicked, scrambling for defense.
The rest of the fighters acquired targets and fired, raining destruction on the enemy's surface-to-air missile sites, anti-aircraft guns, and radar installations.
Explosions rocked the landscape below.
Then—they reached an enemy air force base.
AWACS Zaytun called it out.
"Enemy airbase below. Take out everything."
Furina responded immediately.
"Wilco."
Without warning, she slammed her throttles to idle and yanked back on her stick.
Her Rafale M pitched up sharply—then suddenly twisted into a 270-degree Pugachev maneuver, flipping the aircraft into a nose-down attack dive.
Lyney's voice came over the radio.
"Holy shit! Did you see that!?"
Lynette's reply was just as stunned.
"You're not the only one going crazy, Magician."
Now in a steep dive, Furina switched to her third special weapon—multi-target air-to-ground bombs.
Her HUD locked onto four targets at once:
Two Tu-22M bombers parked on the runway
The enemy control tower
A MiG-25 Foxbat in pre-flight status
She hit the release switch.
"Bombs away!"
The Rafale M pulled up sharply, climbing out of the dive as her bombs streaked downward.
Four massive explosions erupted across the base.
The two bombers detonated, engulfed in fireballs.
The control tower collapsed, its windows shattering outward.
The MiG-25 Foxbat was obliterated before it could even take off.
AWACS Zaytun came through.
"Bullseye, Waltz! That's a direct hit!"
Then Lynette radioed in with a warning.
"Watch the clouds! They can mess with our IFF systems and cause icing. Be careful!"
But before anyone could respond—
AWACS Zaytun came through again, voice sharper this time.
"We've got six bogeys inbound! Prepare for a dogfight!"
Furina's smirk returned.
"Game on."
She slammed her throttles to max, afterburners igniting as she pulled a hard 90-degree bank.
She climbed aggressively, leveling out at the same altitude as the approaching enemy fighters.
She was heading directly toward them—head-on.
Lynette's voice was suddenly tense.
"Waltz! What the hell are you doing!?"
Furina didn't respond.
Instead, she switched to her long-range air-to-air missiles (LRAAMs).
Her HUD locked onto three enemy aircraft.
She squeezed the trigger.
"Fox Three!"
Three missiles detached from her wings, screaming toward their targets.
As soon as she fired, she snapped her stick left, breaking into a high-G barrel roll, rolling away from the missiles she had just launched.
From below, Lyney watched in shock.
"Fox Three!?"
He craned his neck up, looking through his canopy just in time to see Furina barrel-rolling away from her own missile volley.
Then—three explosions.
AWACS Zaytun confirmed it.
"Three bandits splashed!"
Lyney couldn't believe it.
"Th-Three in one!?"
The remaining three enemy fighters broke away, diving low to engage the squadron.
Lyney locked onto one and fired.
"Fox Two!"
The missile hit, and another enemy fighter erupted into flames.
That left two enemy fighters.
Furina twisted and turned, trying to shake the remaining fighters off her tail.
Then—an ominous message crackled through the enemy's frequency.
"Launch preparations complete! Bolt checks confirmed! Ready when you are, sir!"
Then—a final transmission from the enemy flight lead.
"Launch the UAVs."
On the ground, trucks carrying massive containers skidded to a stop, their metal ceilings slamming open.
Then, with mechanical whines, multiple unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) launched skyward, their jet engines screaming as they ascended rapidly toward the battlefield.
The radio crackled to life.
"What the hell just happened!?" Nocturne Three yelled.
Nocturne One, Lynette, immediately took command.
"I need a status report!!"
AWACS Zaytun's voice came through, firm but tense.
"Multiple bogeys inbound! Tracking their trajectory—stand by!"
Then Lyney chimed in, voice sharp with realization.
"Looks like they're being launched from the ground!?"
Furina's eyes narrowed.
"Shit. They're drones!"
Lynette cursed.
"Fuck this. Take them all out! Don't leave a single one running!"
Furina's grip tightened on the stick.
"Wilco."
She slammed her throttle forward, the Rafale surging ahead as she locked onto the first UAV, which had begun climbing rapidly.
She followed it into a vertical ascent, matching its climb.
Her finger squeezed the trigger.
The 30mm cannon ripped through the UAV's fuselage, sending metal shards spiraling in the air before it exploded in a fiery burst.
AWACS confirmed.
"Tidal Two, splash one!"
The rest of the squadron engaged.
Nocturne Three locked onto a drone, launching a missile.
"Fox Two!"
Missile impact. The drone burst into flames, spiraling downward.
Nocturne Four targeted one of the enemy Foxbat fighters, weaving through its high-speed turns before firing.
"Fox Two!"
The MiG-25 disintegrated under the explosion.
Nocturne Two locked onto the final Foxbat.
"Fox Two!"
AWACS Zaytun then chimes in
"Splash one! That's the last of the MiGs!"
But the drones were still active—and now, Furina was in trouble.
Two UAVs locked onto her, their advanced AI predicting her movements as they gave chase.
The missile warning blared in her cockpit.
"Missile! Missile!"
Furina instinctively deployed flares, her Rafale twisting violently as she tried to break their lock.
Then—she made her move.
She cut the throttles to idle and yanked back on the stick hard.
The Rafale suddenly pitched up into another Pugachev maneuver, momentarily stalling in midair before flipping around.
She locked onto both drones at once.
"Fox Two!"
Two Sidewinders detached from her wings, streaking toward their targets.
Both drones exploded simultaneously.
AWACS Zaytun's voice rang out.
"Waltz got two bandits!"
Furina slammed her throttles forward again, breaking out of the stall and beginning her descent back into the fight.
Meanwhile, Lyney and Lynette took down two more drones, leaving only four remaining.
AWACS confirmed the kill count.
"Nocturne One and Tidal One took two drones down! Four remaining!"
Then—another drone locked onto Furina's six.
The autonomous fighter twisted and turned, relentlessly sticking to her tail.
Furina gritted her teeth, banking left and right, trying to shake it.
But the drone's incredible agility kept it locked onto her.
She had enough.
"Damn you, fucking drone!" she growled.
Then—she went for it.
She slammed her throttles to idle, kicked the rudder hard left, and pulled up into a steep left bank.
The Rafale suddenly pitched upward at an extreme angle, yawing left 360 degrees in an instant.
The drone overshot past her.
Before it could react, Furina gained a lock and fired.
"Fox Two!"
The Sidewinder streaked forward, slamming into the UAV's fuselage.
The drone erupted into flames, debris scattering across the sky.
Nocturne Three's shocked voice came through the radio.
"Holy fucking shit! Did you see that Cobra maneuver!?"
Lynette, now on edge, quickly responded.
"Cobra maneuver!? From who!?"
Nocturne Four chimed in next.
"Tidal Two pulled it on a drone!"
Lyney's eyes widened.
"F-Furina!?"
AWACS Zaytun confirmed the kill.
"Another kill for Tidal Two. Three to go."
Furina's focus sharpened.
The last three drones broke formation, splitting off in different directions.
She didn't hesitate.
She locked onto the first drone, which banked hard left.
Furina pulled into a brutal 90-degree bank, her vision darkening momentarily as she endured the G-forces.
She locked on.
"Fox Two!"
The missile struck.
Furina flew straight through the explosion, debris bouncing off her canopy.
She quickly acquired the second drone, which had begun diving toward the ground in a desperate evasive maneuver.
She followed it downward, closing the gap.
Another lock.
"Fox Two!"
Impact. The drone was obliterated.
Now, just one drone remained.
This last UAV was pulling insane high-G turns, trying to shake her.
But Furina wasn't deterred.
She matched every movement, her Rafale twisting and weaving through the sky with precision.
She lined up her sights.
Final lock.
"Fox Two!"
Hit.
The last UAV exploded into fiery pieces, crashing down to the battlefield below.
AWACS Zaytun called it in.
"All bogeys splashed! We have air superiority!"
Furina let out a breath, her chest rising and falling heavily.
Her body ached from the brutal G-loads, but she forced herself to steady her breathing.
Then—AWACS gave the final call.
"Mission accomplished. RTB."
Furina nodded, switching her waypoint back to Home—the carrier Blancheur.
She climbed above the clouds, engaging autopilot for the return trip.
A few minutes later, she was joined by Nocturne Squadron and Tidal One.
But something was different.
Instead of Nocturne One and Tidal One leading the formation, they had Furina take the lead.
Furina frowned slightly, glancing left and right.
"What's going on, guys?"
Lynette chuckled.
"You got ace again, Waltz! You're leading the formation."
Furina's eyes widened.
"Seriously!?"
Lyney laughed.
"Waltz, you earned it. Let it sink in. RTB."
Furina stared at her instruments, then slowly raised her gloved hands, staring at them in disbelief.
"Me… Ace… Again?"
Then—she grinned, a smirk forming on her lips.
"Alright… Fucking awesome!"
She pushed the throttles forward, leading the squadron home.
Hours later, both Nocturne and Tidal Squadrons had successfully landed aboard the Blancheur.
With the aircraft secured, the pilots gathered once more in the carrier's briefing room for the debriefing.
The room carried an air of exhaustion, but also victory.
Admiral Augereau stood at the front, his eyes scanning the room, a hint of approval in his expression.
He began without hesitation.
"Great work, everyone. We have gained air superiority over Okamenely Stol.
With that, the first obstacle standing in our way of reclaiming the Elevator is gone. This is the perfect time to regroup and begin the counteroffensive. Let's take back what belongs to Teyvat. Because of your success today, Operation Liberty is now a go. We will advance to the Morozvyat Plains."
He let his words settle in before offering a salute, his voice firm.
"Everyone… dismissed."
A Quiet Moment on the Deck
The squadron dispersed, some pilots heading to their rooms, others toward the cafeteria or mess hall.
But Furina didn't follow them.
Instead, she made her way back to the main deck, the cool ocean breeze brushing against her flight suit as she emerged.
Her eyes immediately locked onto her aircraft—her Dassault Rafale M, sitting silently under the carrier's deck lights, its sleek frame reflecting the glow.
She stood there for a moment, just staring.
Despite the exhaustion weighing on her, she still couldn't believe it.
She had done it again.
Ace.
Twice.
The thrill of combat, the rush of the chase, the explosions in her wake—it all played back in her mind, but it still hadn't fully sunk in.
Then, she heard footsteps behind her.
Lyney and Lynette.
The siblings approached, both smiling, their expressions carrying a mix of pride and amusement.
Lynette was the first to speak, giving Furina a firm pat on the back.
"Well done, Furina. You got ace again."
Furina nodded slowly, still looking at her jet.
"I know… It… it hasn't sunk in just yet."
Lyney grinned, bumping her shoulder lightly.
"Seriously. You earned it."
Then, his expression turned to one of curiosity as he crossed his arms.
"From what Nocturne Two and Four said… you pulled off a Pugachev Cobra out there.
What the hell is going on with your plane?"**
Furina let out a small chuckle, shaking her head.
"I don't know. And I don't care. Whatever it is… I like how it handles."
Lynette smirked, placing her hands on her hips.
"Whatever it is, it's giving us good results for the war."
Lyney nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. And we're gonna need more of that soon.
Come on, let's head back and rest. We've got a few days before the next operation kicks off."
Furina exhaled, taking one last look at her Rafale before turning away.
"Alright. Let's go."
The trio walked back inside the carrier, leaving the cool night air behind.
Another day of dogfighting, defending, and surviving was over.
For now, they had time to rest—but only for a while.
Because this was just the beginning of the war.