One and a Half Years Later
November 21st
Zephyr's Island Space Center, Eastern Teyvat Coastline
The sun blazed high over Zephyr's Island, casting long, sharp shadows across the coastline. From the horizon, the newly completed orbital elevator rose like a polished spear into the heavens—a monolith of alloy and latticework, shimmering under the midday light. It stood as the definitive emblem of Teyvat's postwar ambition: peace, progress, and technological might.
But today, the elevator wasn't the focus.
The sprawling island spaceport pulsed with life. Hundreds of thousands of spectators filled the terraces and runways, the air buzzing with conversation and camera shutters. It was the first Zephyr's Island Airshow—a festival of engineering and flight, a tribute to the scientists, pilots, and dreamers who had redefined the sky.
At the far end of the electromagnetic catapult runway—the island's state-of-the-art mass driver—stood the star of the event. Towering, still, and radiating silent menace, the Sepharis Bird Prototype: Karatel dominated the field.
Nearly the length of a football field, Karatel's eight contra-rotating propellers hung motionless for now, each capable of displacing enough air to flatten small trees. The hull bore the insignia of the Teyvat Aerospace and Defense Agency, its surfaces sleek yet brutal. An airborne fortress—purpose-built to rule the upper atmosphere for decades to come.
Crowds pressed against the safety rails, craning for a better look. Children sat on shoulders. Phones and lenses glinted under the sun.
At the VIP perimeter nearest the launch line, five figures stood apart from the general throng—officially listed as "honored guests" of President Imena.
In truth? They were ghosts.
The Emberhowl Aces—Emilie, Mona, Ayaka, and Mualani—stood quietly at her side. The pilots who had ended the Dawnfront War under total blackout conditions. Heroes erased from record. Legends that officially never existed.
Yet here they were—alive, grounded, and living their quiet postwar lives beneath new names and clean civilian covers. Watching from the sidelines of a world they'd fought to save.
Emilie shaded her eyes, gazing up at Karatel. "Fucking hell… that thing's even bigger than I thought."
Mona—still in her weathered bomber jacket—gave a slow nod, her gaze tracing along the carrier's armored fuselage.
"Yeah. We saw the hangars during the war—I knew it'd be big. But this? This is a goddamn sky-fortress."
Behind them, Imena chuckled softly, hands folded behind her back. "You think that's large? Wait until you see what they're planning for the next orbital deployment platform."
Mualani squinted at Mona's jacket, leaning closer. "Hold up—is that a Martin-Baker patch?"
Mona grinned and gave a playful wink. "You know it."
Emilie laughed, bumping her shoulder. "Well look at that—our very own member of the Martin-Baker Tie Club."
Mona rolled her eyes, clearly amused. "Come on, you knew it was inevitable once I got shot down over Safhe."
From her pocket, she produced her phone, scrolling before turning the screen toward them.
"Check this out. Martin-Baker actually posted about it."
The display showed a dated post from November 17:
Earlier today, a Fontaine Air Defense Force (FADF) Grumman F-14A Tomcat was shot down during an operation in the Safhe Region, Deshret Desert, Sumeru. The pilot successfully ejected using the Martin-Baker GRU-7A seat.
Emilie blinked, half impressed. "Shit. They really did post it."
"Yep," Mona said, slipping her phone back. "Applied for the Tie Club the same week. Got the tie and the pin straight from the UK."
Emilie smirked. "Not bad." She turned toward Imena. "Hey—mind if I ask something?"
Imena tilted her head. "Of course. What is it?"
"The Razushitzel," Emilie said.
Imena's brow arched. "Ah. What about it?"
"I heard it's being scrapped. True? Wasn't that the follow-up to the Faxi-class subs—Nuckelavee and Leviathan?"
Ayaka blinked. "Wait—what's a Razushitzel?"
Emilie turned to her. "You remember the two Faxi-class subs we sank—October 4 and November 14?"
Ayaka nodded. "Right. The ones that could launch drones while submerged."
"Exactly. The Razushitzel was their successor—officially the first of the Razu-class. Same concept, but with one insane twist: it could launch fixed-wing aircraft underwater. Not just drones."
Mualani gave a low whistle. "Holy hell. That's a leap."
Imena crossed her arms. "It was supposed to enter service late in the war. But our ground offensives pushed development back so far that by the time it was ready, the fighting was over. Natlan agreed to decommission it."
"Where'd it end up?" Emilie asked.
"Southern Snezhnaya. Bespokoynaya Harbor, I think," Imena replied thoughtfully. "Part of the ceasefire treaty—arms reduction clause. The sub was too dangerous to leave afloat."
Emilie nodded. "Makes sense."
Just then, the loudspeakers roared to life across the island.
"All attendees of the Zephyr's Island Airshow—please begin clearing the Mass Driver area for the launch of the Sepharis Bird Karatel. Repeat, please clear the Mass Driver area. Launch procedure is imminent."
Imena chuckled and gestured toward the command tower. "Right on cue. Come on—you've got the best seats in the house."
Flanked by discreet security, the group followed her toward the upper terraces, leaving the looming machine behind.
For today, there was no conflict. No threat.
Only celebration—of ambition and the skies they once fought over.
The walkway opened onto the flight line—rows of aircraft gleaming under the afternoon light: F-14s, F-15s, F/A-18s, F-16s, Rafales, Typhoons, and a pair of F-22s at the far end, their canopies tinted gold.
Emilie's eyes found a familiar shape among them—an F-14A parked beside a Rafale.
"Man… I do miss flying sometimes," she murmured, a wistful smile ghosting her lips.
Mualani chuckled. "Then you should invest in a GA bird, Emilie."
Emilie raised a brow. "Like what?"
"Well," Mualani said, tapping her temple, "you thinking piston engine or jet?"
Emilie smirked. "Something small. Definitely piston. Not chasing luxury."
Mualani snapped her fingers. "Then a Bonanza. Two main variants—the classic V-tail and the straight-tail. Just don't confuse it with the early Debonair series."
Emilie's grin widened. "Yes! The V35 specifically. Distinctive tail, great handling. I've been saving up from the boutique."
Mualani nudged her. "Knew you had GA plans."
Emilie laughed and threw an arm around her shoulder. "Honestly, I forgot about it. I'll check my aircraft fund when I'm back in Fontaine."
Ayaka tilted her head. "Wait—how can you say you miss flying when you're on a plane every other week? You travel everywhere collecting ingredients."
Emilie chuckled. "I meant piloting, not riding. I miss the feel of the controls—the preflight checks, the engine hum, the moment the wheels lift off."
Ayaka smiled. "Ah. I see."
Imena laughed lightly. "You girls haven't changed a bit."
Emilie gave her a playful look. "Old habits, Madam President."
They continued along the line as the sun dipped lower, escorted by their quiet security detail. Civilians gathered by the fence, waving toward Imena.
She waved back warmly, smiling for every camera.
Emilie caught fragments of chatter drifting from the crowd.
"Who are those four with Imena? Astronauts?"
"No clue, but one's got a Martin-Baker patch—maybe pilots?"
"Could they be… Wolfsbane or Emberhowl?"
"Nah. I heard those squadrons are all new recruits."
"Definitely veterans though. Look at how they walk."
Emilie chuckled under her breath. "They really don't know the full story, do they?"
Imena shook her head. "Nope. But give it time. The Teyvat Council meets in two months."
Emilie glanced over. "And the agenda?"
Imena's lips curved into a secretive smile. "You'll find out soon enough."
They arrived at the command and control building at the terminus of the mass driver—an expansive facility thrumming with energy and anticipation. The air was charged with the quiet hum of consoles, the rhythmic clatter of keyboards, and the low murmur of engineers working in synchrony.
Inside, a woman in a crisp white uniform approached them with a confident smile.
"Madam President! Welcome!"
"Beatrice," Imena greeted, shaking her hand firmly. "It's an honor to be here."
"The honor's ours, Madam President," Beatrice replied, her eyes bright with excitement. She glanced toward the group behind her. "And if the rumors are true… these four are the Emberhowl Aces?"
Emilie cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"
Beatrice laughed lightly. "Don't worry, Captain Emilie. We've all signed NDAs. Your identities are safe here."
A technician at one of the stations called over without looking up. "What's said in this room stays in this room."
Ayaka smirked. "Preferably just for today."
The room erupted in good-natured laughter, cutting through the tension of the countdown clock.
Beatrice gestured toward a glass-walled platform overlooking the main control room. "Right this way, everyone. We're about to begin the launch sequence."
A voice crackled over the PA system:
"Sepharis Bird Karatel launch in T-minus two minutes. All personnel to stations."
Beatrice's tone shifted to that of a commander. "Final checks, people. Let's go."
"Flight controls?"
A hand rose. "Flight controls, go!"
"Navigation?"
"Navigation is go!"
"Propulsion?"
"Propulsion green and stable!"
"Telemetry?"
"Telemetry, go!"
"Teyvat Orbital Elevator communications?"
"Orbital Comms are a go!"
Beatrice nodded sharply. "Begin countdown."
"Sepharis Bird Karatel launching in twenty seconds."
Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward the live feed. Dozens of cameras tracked the massive SSTO as it sat locked into the mass driver's launch rail—its sleek fuselage gleaming under the floodlights, vapor billowing around its intakes.
Twin main propellers began to spin up, a low whine swelling into a rising roar. Then, in sequence, six auxiliary propellers ignited—spitting torrents of exhaust.
"Engines running at full thrust!" called the propulsion lead.
Beatrice's hand hovered over the control console. "Count it."
"Ten… nine… eight… seven… six…"
A thunderous boom cracked through the room as the booster rockets lit. The glass panels vibrated from the pressure.
"Five… four… three… two… one… launch!"
The Sepharis Bird Karatel shot forward, the entire mass driver shuddering as the SSTO tore down the rail. The sound was deafening—a continuous, teeth-rattling shriek of propulsion and acceleration.
"Airspeed's alive!"
"Sepharis Bird Karatel passing Checkpoint One… Two… Three…"
The cameras tracked the vehicle as it ascended the curved launch ramp, engines screaming against the blue horizon—until, with a flash of vapor, it broke free.
"Sepharis Bird Karatel airborne and climbing!"
"Speed increasing—passing 400 knots!"
Emilie stared at the monitor, momentarily lost for words. "What an eerie sight."
Imena glanced at her. "How so?"
"Something that massive flying like that…" Emilie murmured, half to herself. "That's megalophobia for you."
The final telemetry call came through:
"Sepharis Bird clear of Zephyr's Island. Following orbital approach route. She's alive!"
Cheers erupted across the control room. Engineers threw their arms up, some even hugging in disbelief.
"We did it!"
"The Bird of Peace is airborne!"
"Sepharis Bird passing Waypoint One. Turning forty degrees right to intercept Waypoint Two."
"Solid rocket boosters detached—main propellers taking over. SSTO separation confirmed. Karatel now climbing through 270 knots."
Beatrice turned toward Imena with a proud smile, arms folded. "Madam President—what do you think?"
Imena's eyes softened as she watched the feed of the ascending aircraft. "A sight to behold. The Bird of Peace is airborne."
Mona smirked faintly. "Isn't the Skywarden the more literal Bird of Peace?"
Imena chuckled. "It is. But with this year's defense budget, we thought we'd host the World Conference up at the exosphere deck. Five thousand capacity—small for tourism, but perfect for diplomacy."
Outside, the sun dipped low on the horizon, its golden light washing over the tarmac and the gleaming hulls of nearby aircraft. The day's airshow wound down under a sky painted in amber and violet.
Over four hundred thousand people had gathered—shattering every attendance record in aviation history.
And high above, the Sepharis Bird Karatel traced a silver arc across the heavens, circling the Teyvat Orbital Elevator like a guardian. The Bird of Peace now watched over the world it helped rebuild.