May 14, 2XX9
It had been five years since Emilie, Mona, and Ayaka's names were cleared.
And in those five years—since the explosive press conference alongside the pilots of Wolfsbane and Emberhowl—the world finally came to know the true identities of the so-called Ghosts of Emberhowl.
Ayaka continued down a different path, embracing kendo—the way of the sword. She rose quickly through the ranks and became one of the most well-known female kendo practitioners in Teyvat. Four years in a row, she claimed victory in the All-Inazuma Kendo Championship.
Mualani, though never declared dead, had been branded a traitor. She rebuilt her life through the ocean. Seven consecutive Teyvat National Surfing Championship titles later, she was now regarded as one of the greatest surfers the continent had ever seen.
Mona pursued the stars. With Imena's endorsement—Imena now the former President of Teyvat—Mona joined the Sellaris Space Program. On October 10th, 2XX7, Sellaris One launched into orbit under her command. She and six other astronauts would spend two years off-planet.
And Emilie? With her name cleared, she was hailed as one of Teyvat's finest aces. Officially ranked second on the Deadliest Aces list—just behind Arlecchino of Snezhnaya. Despite her hero status, Emilie never lost her roots. Her perfume boutique continued thriving, becoming the gold standard in Fontaine's fashion circles. Every well-dressed lady in the nation sought Emilie's fragrances—not just for their elegant notes, but their astonishing longevity. At the same time, Emilie remained closely tied to the military, working part-time with the Teyvat Air Commission and Fontaine Law Enforcement as an expert on experimental aircraft and aeronautics technology.
As for their jet-black F-14A Tomcats—they were preserved. Stored deep within a classified air force installation in Windrise, Mondstadt.
The original Wolfsbane Squadron F-14As—ghosts from another chapter—remained mothballed in Petrichor. Abandoned since Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, Kaeya, and Houallet were exiled from Petrichor Island.
The skies were clear over Charybdis today.
Emilie sat outside a quiet café, not far from Charybdis Air Force Base. A cup of coffee sat in front of her, half-sipped. She gently placed it back on the coaster and returned to the pages of her book.
Then—tires on pavement.
A sleek black SUV pulled into the café's lot. The rear door opened, and a woman in a tailored suit stepped out.
Emilie glanced up and smiled. "Right on time, Miss Imena."
Imena returned the smile, her presence as sharp as ever, and took a seat across from her. "Good to see you looking this well, Emilie."
"You too," Emilie replied, closing her book. "You holding up?"
"Y-Yeah," Imena chuckled softly. "Being a former president and all… I still have to keep up appearances, don't I?"
Emilie grinned. "Damn right."
Imena leaned in slightly. "So. How's the family since your name got cleared?"
Emilie sighed and nodded. "There was a small argument right after the press conference. You can imagine... News drops that I'm alive after being declared dead for years."
Imena's expression softened. "But they came around?"
"They did," Emilie said quietly. "Took a bit of tears, but... yeah. We're good now."
Imena smiled faintly. "Glad to hear it."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick, worn binder. She set it on the table with a gentle thud.
Emilie raised a brow. "What's that?"
"Go on," Imena said. "Take a look."
Curious, Emilie pulled the binder toward her and flipped it open to a random page.
There it was.
A high-altitude shot—captured from an enemy aircraft during the raid on Imperatora Industries' munitions factory in North Dornman. Four F-14A Tomcats in formation, surrounded by a mix of Teyvat and Natlan aircraft: F/A-18 Hornets, Su-30s, and Raptors. The sun caught their wings just right.
Emilie's eyes widened. "Holy shit..."
She turned the page. Another photo—grainy, but clear. The sky was beginning to brighten as dawn approached.
Marcotte City.
There, on a long stretch of highway, sat the four Emberhowl F-14As. Ground power cables stretched out beneath them. Air carts, ladders, crew huddled nearby.
More shots followed.
Chatter on the deck of the carrier Arkhe. Muffled smiles. The first flights in their Tomcats. The chaos. The pride. The heartbreak.
"Our last sortie..." Emilie whispered. Her throat tightened. She glanced at Imena. "What... is all this?"
"Thought you'd remember," Imena said with a sly smile.
Emilie shook her head slowly. "No. I don't."
Imena tapped the binder. "That right there? That's every declassified file from the Dawnfront War. All bound up in a binder for you to read. From the training accident with Candace and Mona... to how you were branded traitors by Maksim and Coubervie... to the formation of Emberhowl... to your last flight."
"All of it?" Emilie asked.
"Everything," Imena said. "Top secret. Black ops. Every photo, every flight log, every mission debrief. Houallet took most of the pictures. From the F-5 Tiger IIs to the Arkhe's flight deck—you're in there."
She leaned back and looked up at the clear sky.
"I bet the news outlets are having a field day right about now."
Emilie chuckled. "I don't doubt it."
Imena then asked, "Got any plans today?"
"Nothing special," Emilie said. "You?"
"I've got a final inspection tomorrow," Imena replied. "The orbital elevator—before Sellaris One docks in December."
Emilie snapped her fingers. "Ah—Mona's coming home this year!"
"She is," Imena said, smiling. "Talked to her a few days ago. She can't wait to see the old Emberhowl crew again."
"Me too," Emilie said softly. "Been too long."
Imena stood and adjusted her blazer. "Alright. I should head out. I'll see you around, yeah?"
"You bet," Emilie winked.
Imena gave a thumbs up before slipping into the SUV and pulling away down the quiet road.
Emilie watched the vehicle disappear in the distance, then glanced at the binder again.
She closed it slowly... and placed it beside her on the bench.
"…Imena, oh Imena."
Right on cue, a young female pilot approached. She looked fresh out of training — white hair streaked with blue, wearing a Fontaine flight suit. She hesitated a bit before stepping closer.
"Um, Miss? I hope you don't mind if I sit here? There's no other table available," she asked politely, glancing around the packed café.
Emilie looked up, mildly amused, and gestured casually.
"Oh, help yourself, kid."
The young woman gave a grateful nod.
"Thanks, Miss."
She slid into the seat across from Emilie and took a sip from her coffee. The scent of roasted beans and jet fuel still lingered faintly on her flight suit.
Emilie smirked, eyeing the girl's posture and attire.
"From the way you're dressed, I see you're a fighter pilot."
The young woman nodded.
"Yes, ma'am."
Emilie chuckled.
"Ah. Reminds me of myself years ago."
The young pilot leaned forward, setting her coffee cup down gently on the table.
"You served in the Air Force?"
Emilie nodded, her gaze distant for a moment.
"That's right. I was part of an auxiliary squadron off the coast of Fontaine, years back."
"I see," the girl replied, nodding slowly.
Emilie extended a hand across the table.
"Emilie."
The young woman took her hand, shaking it firmly with surprising confidence.
"Second Lieutenant Furina de Fontaine."
Emilie blinked.
"Furina, huh? I've heard of you."
Furina looked surprised.
"Oh? Y-You did?"
Emilie chuckled, folding her arms.
"Oh yeah. A couple of my Air Force buddies over at Charybdis mentioned you. Top graduate of the Royal Fontaine Air Force Academy, right?"
Furina rubbed the back of her neck, sheepish but clearly proud.
"Yeah. Heh. That's me."
Emilie nodded.
"What kind of plane did you fly during training?"
"A Dassault Rafale," Furina said, brightening. "Marine variant."
Emilie raised an eyebrow.
"A Rafale, huh?"
Furina nodded again, now visibly more animated.
"Yeah. One helluva jet if you ask me. Agile, versatile… and hella maneuverable."
Emilie laughed softly.
"I wish I could say the same, Miss Furina."
Furina tilted her head.
"What kind of plane did you fly in the Air Force, Miss Emilie?"
Emilie leaned back slightly, a nostalgic grin on her lips.
"F-14A Tomcats."
Furina's eyes widened with curiosity.
"Tomcats?"
"That's right," Emilie said. "As an auxiliary squadron, we didn't get the latest birds. We were usually flying a generation behind. But for my team? We loved those jets. Not just because they were iconic — but because, for their time, they were some of the best of their generation."
Furina nodded in agreement.
"No denying that."
"Yeah," Emilie muttered, shifting slightly in her seat. Her tone had a hint of fondness — maybe even pride.
"Say," she asked, "what squadron are you assigned to?"
Furina replied promptly.
"The Armée de l'Air 405th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Tidal Squadron."
Emilie's eyes lit up slightly at the name.
"Ah, the 405th. I've had my encounters with them. Especially one kid back in the day…"
She squinted as if trying to remember.
"I forgot her name, but I remember her callsign — Ritesword. Flew an F/A-18. One helluva fighter, if you ask me. Saved my ass more than a few times."
Furina's eyes went wide with excitement.
"Wait. You knew the 405th!?"
Emilie nodded with a soft laugh.
"Yeah. That's right."
Furina snapped her fingers in sudden realization.
"Speaking of Tomcats… I'm pretty sure you've heard of the Demons of Emberhowl, right?"
Emilie tensed subtly at the name — just for a moment — before relaxing again.
"Yeah. I've heard of them. What about it?"
Furina slumped back in her chair slightly, eyes distant.
"Nothing much. Just… that old saying, you know?"
'When history witnesses a great change, Emberhowl reveals itself… first, as a dark demon. And as a demon, it uses its power to rain death upon the land, and then it dies. However, after a period of slumber, Emberhowl returns — but this time, as a great hero.'
Emilie nodded slowly.
"Yep. That's how the saying goes."
Furina leaned forward once more.
"You don't happen to know the other auxiliary squadrons — Wolfsbane or Emberhowl — do you, Miss Emilie?"
She smiled mischievously.
"In fact, you share the same name as Raven. Emilie of Emberhowl. And you — Emilie."
Emilie scoffed, waving it off.
"Really? Must be some coincidence."
Furina chuckled.
"Maybe."
Just then, Furina's phone vibrated. She checked it, then glanced at her watch. Her smile faded into focus.
"Well… I oughta head back. Got a meeting with the commander at base."
She stood up and gave a respectful nod.
"Nice meeting you, Emilie."
Emilie returned the nod.
"Nice to meet you too, Furina."
Furina turned to leave, but paused as Emilie called out.
"Oh. By the way — Furina?"
Furina glanced back over her shoulder.
"Yes, Emilie?"
Emilie gave her a small, sincere smile.
"Stay safe up there, alright?"
"You're one of the next generation of Aces."
Furina smiled, standing a little taller.
"I'll do my best, ma'am."
With that, she walked out, disappearing into the morning light.
Emilie slumped back in her seat, watching the door for a moment, then glanced down at her coffee.
"That kid has a lot of talent… I've seen those training dogfight simulation exercises. Kid can pull the impossible with that Rafale."
She chuckled quietly to herself.
"If a war were to break out right now?"
"She'd be the one to bring it to an end."