June 29th.
One Month Later.
Another day dragged on.
At first glance, Charybdis Air Force Base seemed like it had moved on.
Fighter jets thundered down the runways, their afterburners lighting up the dusk.
Mechanics worked tirelessly on battered aircraft, some of which barely made it back from sorties.
The control tower was relentless, barking orders across radio frequencies without pause.
War didn't stop.
Not for grief.
Not for mistakes.
Not even for the dead.
Beyond the perimeter fence, the town—once full of color and life—was still clawing its way toward something like recovery.
The scars of the previous month's bombardment hadn't faded.
Construction equipment sat idle in streets lined with rubble.
Buildings, half-repaired, loomed like broken bones over yawning craters.
Charred black scars streaked across the land, silent testaments to the violence that had unfolded here.
The air was still. But it reeked of war.
Scorched metal.
Burnt aviation fuel.
Dust from collapsed homes.
Death lingered in the silence between jet engines and sirens.
Charybdis had moved forward.
But it wasn't safe.
New orders had been issued—
Mandatory evacuation.
Everyone within a 100-mile radius of the airbase was to leave immediately.
Among those on the list:
Emilie.
Chiori.
Escoffier.
Their destination?
Zephyr's Island.
The Teyvat Union had established multiple island sectors to shelter displaced civilians—zones deemed far enough from the front lines to offer security.
Zephyr's Island was one of them.
But even there, danger lingered in the skies.
The Sepharis Birds.
Karatel.
Celestia.
Weapons from another world. And monsters above all.
Back inside her home, Emilie zipped up her travel bag and laid it on the bed.
She stood still for a moment, mentally checking off everything.
"So... locked the garage. Car's inside with the battery pulled. Keys are with me. House keys... boutique keys…"
Her voice was low. Mechanical.
She sighed, shoulders sinking.
"Hope I still come back to a home."
She crossed the room and peeked out the window.
In the distance, Charybdis Air Force Base came into view—sitting stoic beneath the evening sky.
The sun was bleeding out along the horizon, streaks of orange and violet washing over the wrecked coastline.
Jets roared in the far distance, silhouetted against the fading light.
It was beautiful in a cruel, tragic way.
Emilie knew what she needed to do.
She grabbed her wallet.
Then instinctively reached inside her jacket—
Her fingers brushed the grip of her sidearm, tucked into the shoulder holster.
Still there.
With a quiet breath, she stepped out of her house, locking the door behind her.
The bag was slung over her shoulder.
And then, without a word, she headed toward the shoreline.
At the shoreline.
Emilie walked slowly, her steps light, measured.
The sea stretched out before her—quiet, brooding. Waves lapped against the rocky shore, the evening light glinting across the ripples like broken glass.
This place reminded her of something from years past.
Another war.
The Dawnfront War.
Or as people called it now—The Khaenri'ahn Conflict.
December 4th.
Eight and a half years ago.
She buried one of her comrades that day.
Captain Teppei.
Tactical callsign: Herring.
The location had been Watatsumi Island, in Inazuma. A small, secluded place called Bourou Village.
She could still remember the weight of the shovel in her hands.
The silence of the others standing around the grave.
The way the sea had looked on that day—so eerily similar to now.
Teppei had been the loudest, most energetic bastard in Wolfsbane Squadron.
A dumbass sometimes. But he was their dumbass.
Emilie exhaled through her nose, lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile.
"We're in another war, Teppei…"
She shook her head, muttering softly to herself.
"Heh… if you were here, you'd be running your mouth every damn minute. Probably roasting the hell out of this mess. You'd call it the 'Stupidest War in Teyvatian History' or some shit."
The smile faded as she walked further down the shoreline.
Her small-heeled ankle boots crunched softly against the rocky ground, the only sound besides the tide.
Then—
She stopped.
Voices.
Soft. Muffled.
Carried faintly by the breeze.
Emilie narrowed her eyes, looking down the shoreline toward the water's edge.
Figures. Shadows in the twilight.
She crouched low behind a rocky outcrop, keeping herself out of sight.
She listened.
"It doesn't matter."
The voice was flat.
Lifeless.
Emotionless.
Dead.
"This is the consequence. And I am forced to face it."
Another voice—male this time—responded with quiet urgency.
"Don't think like that… We know you didn't fire that missile."
Emilie's brow furrowed.
"Didn't fire… what missile?" she murmured.
She crept closer, quiet as the shifting wind.
And then—
A sudden outburst ripped through the air.
The woman's voice cracked, raw with anguish:
"THEN TELL ME!"
"THEN TELL ME WHY AM I TO BLAME!?"
Her scream shattered the silence like glass hitting concrete.
Emilie instinctively pulled back behind the rocks, eyes wide.
The voice carried on, ragged and trembling.
"IS IT JUST BECAUSE I WAS TOO CLOSE!?"
"IS IT BECAUSE I FIRED A MISSILE TOWARD A DRONE—TO SAVE OUR GODDAMNED PRESIDENT!?"
There was no hiding the torment in her voice. It was peeling at the seams.
"OR… OR MAYBE BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO LOOK AT THE ONBOARD FOOTAGE OF MY AIRCRAFT!?"
Emilie carefully stepped forward again, eyes scanning the dimming shoreline.
Seven figures now. All dressed in formal black military coats over white polos, with pressed black slacks.
Teyvat Six Nations Air Forces dress uniform.
Specifically—
Fontaine's 405th Armée de l'Air Squadrons.
Nocturne.
Tidal.
And then—Emilie saw her.
The one screaming.
She squinted—
"…Furina?" she whispered.
Furina whipped around, pointing with a trembling hand toward the nearby hangars.
"MY PLANE IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE!"
Her voice pierced the night like a blade.
"IN THE HANGAR!
SITTING THERE! SILENTLY! AVAILABLE AT ANY TIME!"
A sharp breath—
Then a sob.
Her knees buckled.
She collapsed onto the rocky ground, her voice falling to a cracked whisper:
"If the President hadn't fucking turned around… this wouldn't be my fucking nightmare…"
Emilie's breath caught in her throat.
"…President?"
Her eyes widened slightly.
"…President Imena?"
Furina sank lower, hands clutching at the earth beneath her as though trying to hold herself together. Her shoulders trembled violently.
And then—
She broke.
A choked, gut-wrenching sob erupted from her chest, raw and deep.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
The dam burst.
Everything she had been holding back—grief, rage, guilt—came pouring out like a flood she could no longer contain.
Emilie stood frozen, stunned.
And then she saw someone move.
A girl with catlike ears knelt beside Furina, her movements quiet, deliberate.
"…Lynette," Emilie muttered.
Without hesitation, Lynette reached out, placing a gentle hand on Furina's shaking shoulder.
Then, wordlessly, she pulled her into a hug.
Furina collapsed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears soaked through the uniform, but Lynette didn't flinch.
Because right now—
Furina needed someone.
One by one, the rest of her squadron approached.
They knelt beside her.
They embraced her.
They held her.
A silent wall of solidarity in the dark.
Emilie crossed her arms, tapping her chin.
"…What the hell is going on here?"
Then, finally, they backed off from Furina.
She didn't say much—just a quiet hand signal.
"Please… leave me."
Furina stood alone, eyes locked on the horizon.
"I need… some time. Alone."
Lynette exhaled softly. "Furina… please—"
But Furina snapped, voice sharp.
"Leave."
Lynette paused, sighed again.
"Come on… let's give her space."
The seven pilots turned and began walking back toward the airbase. Their footsteps fell heavy against the pavement, fading into the background hum of the wind.
Emilie stood still, arms crossed, her gaze following the same horizon Furina stared into.
The group passed by her.
Lynette stopped, met Emilie's eyes. She gave a slight nod.
"Ma'am."
Emilie returned it.
"Miss."
Lynette looked at her for a moment longer—something about Emilie seemed familiar, but the memory didn't quite surface. It didn't matter to Emilie.
She turned her eyes back toward Furina.
The seven pilots were now within the base perimeter, fading into the distance.
Emilie exhaled and started walking.
Furina didn't turn her head, but her voice carried back.
"Didn't I say it already? Leave me alone…"
Emilie slid her hands into the pockets of her flight jacket.
"Furina?"
The younger pilot flinched, then glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes widened.
"Miss Emilie?"
Emilie gave her a faint nod, lips pressed in a thin line.
"Hope you don't mind if I sit with you."
Furina didn't answer at first, then gave a quiet shake of the head.
Emilie sat down beside her. Silence hung in the air between them as the last golden rays of the sun melted into the sea.
Emilie glanced sideways at her.
"I know that look, Furina. You're troubled."
Furina didn't speak.
"I'm here," Emilie said gently. "Talk to me."
Furina turned her head, meeting her gaze.
"Miss Emilie… do you trust me?"
Emilie leaned forward.
"Why wouldn't I? I saw you fly, remember? Defending Charybdis? Of course I trust you."
She softened her tone.
"What's bothering you?"
Furina exhaled. Her voice was quiet.
"I'm… I'm done for."
Emilie leaned closer.
"Talk to me."
There was a long pause. Then, finally—
"Am… Am I a traitor?"
Emilie frowned, confused.
"Why would you even say that?"
Furina lowered her head.
"You know President Imena… right? From the Khaenri'ahn conflict?"
Emilie nodded.
"Of course. She was the one who formed the Emberhowl Air Command Squadron."
Furina looked at her again. Her voice wavered.
"There was an operation… we got intel that she was still alive. Trapped inside the Orbital Elevator. Her personal security detail confirmed it."
"We went in. Hit their air defenses. Covered the rescue… The chopper was shot down, but she escaped. Took a V-22 Osprey with another pilot. They were almost out of the AO…"
Furina swallowed hard.
"Then… an MQ-101 drone—one of those damn Sepharis Bird units—hit them. Took out the pilot."
Emilie watched, her brow furrowed.
Furina's words came quicker, as if she couldn't stop now.
"She turned around. Back toward the Elevator. Drones started swarming her… I engaged. Launched two missiles to cover her."
A pause. Her voice cracked.
"Then—an explosion. Her right wing detached. She spiraled down. Into the sea."
Emilie's mouth opened slightly, stunned.
Furina's eyes filled with tears.
"Cascade Squadron turned on me. Said I killed her. But I know I only fired two. I know!"
Emilie looked away. Her mind raced.
Furina? Shot down Imena?
Furina was sobbing now, fists clenched in her lap.
"Emilie… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Emilie reached out, pulled her in gently.
"You're okay, Furina. You'll be alright. Alright, sweetie?"
Furina's breath hitched.
"How? I'm being sent to Kovorograd… a frozen hellhole."
Emilie brushed her hair gently with one hand.
"You'll pull through. You'll show them who you are."
She then placed a firm hand on Furina's head.
"Furina."
Furina looked up at her.
Emilie's eyes were sharp now. Focused.
"Keep that helmet down—and show them what a true ace looks like."
She stood, pulling Furina up with her.
"And I'll make some calls. Dig around. See if there's anything I can do."
Furina blinked.
"You will?"
"Of course. I know what this feels like."
Furina narrowed her eyes.
"H-How?"
Emilie exhaled, eyes rising to the clouds above.
"Because… I once knew a pilot marked a traitor. Exiled from her own base. Then shot down."
Furina's eyes widened.
"Emberhowl…"
Emilie nodded.
"Exactly."
She looked at Furina again.
"Furina."
Furina straightened.
"Y-Yes, Miss Emilie?"
Emilie pulled her into a firm hug.
"You'll make it through. Promise me—show those penal unit pilots who you really are. No mercy."
They stepped apart.
Furina stood straighter.
"I will, Miss Emilie."
"Good."
Furina hesitated.
"Would you… walk with me back to base? I'll clear you through."
Emilie gave a half-smile.
"Of course. Though, I've got my Veteran's ID and my Military ID. I'll be fine."
Furina nodded, chuckling lightly.
"Oh. Right. I forgot you were a vet."
They walked side by side, making their way to the checkpoint at the end of Runway 22.
As they approached, a soldier raised a hand.
"Halt there, citizen."
Furina held up her ID.
"Second Lieutenant Furina de Fontaine."
The soldier snapped a salute.
"Miss de Fontaine. Do you know this woman?"
Emilie presented her ID.
"Captain Emilie."
The soldier scanned it, then handed it back.
"All clear. Proceed."
Emilie pocketed her card as they walked past the checkpoint.
Furina looked over at her.
"You… you can access airbases?"
"I work part-time as an analyst for Teyvat Forces. Experimental tech. Threat assessment. Other things."
"Ah. I see."
They walked along the hangars, each standing tall with a jet inside.
Eventually, they reached the front of Hangar One.
There stood Furina's Rafale.
Emilie gazed at the livery.
"You've got a distinctive look. Striking."
"Thanks."
"You designed it?"
Furina gave a small, silent nod.
Just ahead, the other six pilots from the 405th waited outside the main building.
Lynette ran up.
"Furina!"
Furina raised a hand.
"I'm heading to my dorm. If you need me."
She turned to Emilie one last time.
"Thank you again… Miss Emilie."
Emilie nodded.
"Anytime."
Furina continued walking—but this time, the other six followed behind her. Close. Supportive.
Emilie stood still, arms folded.
Her thoughts turned dark. Heavy.
Furina… shot down Imena?
A pilot like her? Took down a friendly?
She shook her head slowly.
"No… it can't be…"
As Emilie stood lost in thought, she heard footsteps behind her.
"Emilie?"
She turned around.
"Commander Hugues?"
The base commander nodded.
"That's right, Emilie. It's been too long."
She nodded back. "Right."
Hugues sighed, voice quieter now. "Thank you… for bringing Furina back. I know what it meant to her—being marked a traitor and a murderer."
He looked at her knowingly.
"And I know you understand that feeling, Emilie. You were branded the same back in Petrichor. You, Mona, Ayaka—all of you exiled, labeled traitors to Teyvat."
Emilie nodded, her voice hushed. "Yeah… I know exactly what Furina's going through. I can't bear to see a shadow of what we endured come back. No one should have to go through that again."
Then—
Lynette approached the group.
"Furina's in her room, sir."
Hugues nodded. "Thanks, Lynette."
Lynette turned to Emilie and extended a hand. "Captain Lynette Snezhevna."
Emilie shook her hand, nodding. "Emilie."
Lynette squinted slightly. "That name sounds… familiar."
Hugues chuckled. "You don't remember?"
Lynette tilted her head. "Remember what?"
Hugues looked at Emilie with a small grin. "Why don't you remind her?"
Emilie chuckled softly. "November 3rd. Nine years ago. A surprise attack on Marcotte International Airport. Two squadrons were present—the 405th Armée de l'Air: Nocturne and Tidal. And—"
Lynette's eyes lit up. "15th Air Division. Wolfsbane Squadron."
She looked at Emilie, realization dawning.
"Raven?"
Emilie nodded. "That's right. Lead flight, Wolfsbane."
They shook hands again, this time more warmly.
Lynette scratched the back of her head. "Damn, I'm so sorry! It's been too long—I didn't recognize you."
Emilie smiled. "You were the ones flying with us en route to Imperatora Industries. December 30th."
Lynette facepalmed. "Right! Emberhowl! Of course!"
Emilie chuckled. "That's the one."
But then, her expression hardened.
"…But I have to ask—what the fuck happened up there? Imena's dead?"
Lynette's smile faded. She exhaled. "Yeah… she was shot down. And all fingers are pointing to Furina."
Emilie raised an eyebrow. "But why?"
Hugues crossed his arms. "Because she was the closest when Imena's Osprey went down."
Emilie's eyes twitched. "You've got to be shitting me. She was found guilty of murder just because she was near the Osprey?"
Lynette and Hugues both nodded grimly.
Emilie threw her hands up and dropped them on her hips.
"For fuck's sake, her Rafale has an onboard camera, right?!"
They nodded again.
"Then why the hell didn't the prosecution use the damn footage?!"
Lynette looked down. "That's the thing. They didn't."
Emilie froze.
"They—they didn't?!"
Lynette nodded slowly.
Emilie facepalmed. "So the Peacekeeping Union just threw her under the fucking bus… made her a scapegoat."
Hugues nodded. "All signs point to that."
Emilie dragged her hands down her face. "Goddammit. Is there anything we can do?"
Hugues shrugged. "Not unless we find something new—something fishy. Otherwise, Furina's only shot at redemption is flying with the Spare Squadron at Korovograd. The Drowned Squadron."
Emilie sighed. "Right… Tell me. What the hell happened up there?"
Hugues gave a grim nod. "The operation was called Sovereign Shield—a mission to extract former President Imena from the Teyvat Orbital Elevator. There were three stages."
He started walking with them as he explained.
"First, infiltration. Snezhnaya had fully militarized the region. Since securing the elevator, they deployed radar and SAMs all around. It was a fortress. So, command sent Furina in alone to neutralize the defenses. She pulled it off before the rest of the 405th arrived."
Emilie nodded. "And then?"
"They provided top cover for the Sea Monster rescue team."
Emilie raised an eyebrow. "Sea Monster?"
Hugues smirked faintly. "Yeah. Same name, different people. But the rescue effort got ambushed by Snezhnayan ground troops. The rescue team was wiped out. Their chopper—destroyed by a rocket."
"Shit…"
"One of Imena's bodyguards, who'd been in hiding with her, found a V-22 Osprey. That's what they used to try to exfil."
"So they took the Osprey and tried to escape?"
Hugues nodded. "They did. But then a shrapnel BUK missile hit—not the aircraft itself, but it killed the pilot. That's when things went south."
"Then what?"
"They heard a voice over comms—believed to be Imena. Then, for reasons we don't understand… the Osprey turned back toward the elevator. Right before it could exit the AO."
Emilie blinked. "It turned back?"
"Yes. And then the Sepharis Bird MQ-101 drones swarmed it. Furina pushed ahead to clear the airspace."
He paused.
"Then… it happened. A missile of unknown origin struck the Osprey's right wing. Direct hit. The wing tore off. The craft spiraled down into the sea."
Emilie bowed her head, her fists clenched.
"I don't understand… If the missile was of unknown origin, how the hell can they pin it on Furina? She was the closest, sure—but that's not proof!"
She looked back up, anger rising.
"And the Osprey should've been marked friendly on her IFF. You can't fire on a friendly unless you deliberately tamper with IFF codes!"
She narrowed her eyes.
"Tell me… in that courtroom—was anyone defending her?"
Lynette nodded. "Every witness they brought forward stood in her defense."
Emilie exhaled hard and facepalmed again. "Then something's definitely not right."
She turned to Hugues.
"Commander, is it possible to access Furina's case file? I want to investigate this myself."
Hugues nodded without hesitation. "Of course. The case is already closed. I'll send you the files."
"Check my contact info on the Part-Time Specialists list."
"Got it."
Emilie looked toward the base gates. "Well… I'd better get going. I've got to evacuate."
Lynette raised an eyebrow. "Evacuate?"
Emilie nodded. "My home's inside the air base perimeter. All residents in the radius are being evacuated."
"Where to?"
"Zephyr's Island. Near the Orbital Elevator."
Lynette nodded. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
Emilie offered a faint smile. "Of course."
She shook hands with both Hugues and Lynette, then turned and left the base.
Back at her home, Emilie packed her things into a bag and walked toward the docks—still scorched from recent attacks. Waiting there was a transport boat, ready to depart.
She hesitated for a moment.
Then she stepped aboard.
The engines rumbled to life, and soon, the boat began pulling away from Charybdis.
Emilie looked back, her expression heavy.
"…See you soon, Charybdis. Hope I come back to you in better times."