Location: Skies Above Fort Archlight
Sector: 4-Greyson, Columbia
★ ★ ★
The Talons hit the sky like spears.
One minute dark, the next, cold morning air, the world a tilt of gray clouds and smoke below.
The comms crackled. "Blackbird-9, form up," Enzo's voice was calm. "Kestrel-14, hold high cover. Watch for ground spikes."
"Copy, Blackbird," came Quill's reply. All business.
I slid into position off Jae's wing. The formation tightened. Below, Fort Archlight wasn't a fort anymore, it was a firepit. Flashes of orange and red. Tracers lacing upward. The sound was a distant, constant thunder.
"Multiple contacts," Sophia's voice cut in. "Bearing zero-three-zero. Low and fast."
My HUD painted them a second later.
[Target Lock: XN-A03 — 12]
[Formation: Swarm Pattern]
A03s. A dozen. Moving low over the valley, wingtips tearing the mist.
"Alright, listen up," Enzo said. "We take the fliers. Kestrel suppresses the ground swarm. Break by pairs. Weapons free."
The Talons split.
I followed Sophia into the dive. In my vision, the HUD flickered to life, painting the chaos with cold, clear vectors.
[Tank #7 — Status: Critical]
[GDF Infantry — Status: 221 Active, 43 WIA, 79 KIA]
[XN-G11 #8 — Distance: 3.2 km / Speed: 492 km/h / Threat Level: High]
[XN-G11 #14 — Distance: 3.5 km / Speed: 498 km/h / Threat Level: High]
[XN-A03 #2 — Razor Hornet / Distance: 8.7 km / Speed: 812 km/h / Threat Level: Critical]
I swallowed. The numbers didn't lie. We were outmatched.
Then one broke pattern, an A03 peeling hard toward Hana's flank.
My hand moved. Not a thought. Not even an order. It was a reflex, smooth and certain.
The reticle in my vision snapped to the target, locking it. It glowed a steady, hostile red, tracing the A03's path a half-second before it actually moved.
I squeezed the trigger.
Twin streams of high-caliber rounds ripped from my Talon's cannons. They tore into the A03's left wing joint—exactly where the HUD had pulsed a faint, glowing weak point a moment before.
The thing didn't just spin. It unfolded, shrieking, into a hill below.
"Good shot, Frost," Sophia said. No praise. Just an observation.
We banked hard. The world spun—sky, ground, fire. Another A03 filled my canopy. Its rider turned with his rifle raised.
I yawed the stick left. The Talon slid sideways like it was on rails. A plasma bolt seared past the cockpit glass, so close the heat prickled my face through the visor.
That was close.
"They're coordinated," Jae's voice came through, thin with strain. "Rider and mount. They're not just attacking. They're funneling us."
He was right. The A03s weren't just attacking. They were herding us lower. Into the kill zone.
"Break high! Now!" Enzo ordered.
We pulled up. The Talons groaned.
Below, the G11s were at the north wall. From up here, they were a dark, churning mass. A crawling tide of chitin and rage. Then their bodies pulsed—thoraxes swelling with sickly green light—and plasma bolts tore upward from their own forms.
"Kestrel-14, we need suppression on those ground units," Enzo called.
"Working on it, Blackbird," Quill's voice was tight over the comms. "They've got heavy armor down there. We're taking hits."
I heard a burst of static, then a choked yell cut through.
One of Kestrel-14's pilots screamed over the channel. "I'm hit! I'm hit!"
I looked. A blue-trimmed Talon trailed a thick plume of smoke, spiraling silently toward the dark patch of the eastern forest.
No ejection flare. No chute.
The air in my helmet turned to ice.
"Focus," Sophia's voice hissed in my ear. "We can't help him if we're dead."
We looped back around. The A03s were waiting for us. This time, they came head-on. Not to shoot, something worse—a solid wall of chitin and rage, aimed right at our formation.
They meant to ram.
"Scatter!" Enzo shouted.
I pulled right, my wingtip nearly clipping Hana's. An A03 shot past so close I saw the compound lenses of its rider's eyes through the canopy—black, faceted, empty.
My Talon shuddered violently a second later.
A warning flashed across my vision, bright red and urgent.
[Left Engine: Minor Impact Detected]
[Performance: Degraded]
My blood ran cold. An A03 slid into position behind me—a perfect kill shot. My threat alarm screamed a steady, brain-rattling tone in my helmet.
No. Not here. Not like this.
Then a flash erupted from the fort below.
Not a missile. An ADA fixed defense battery—a blocky fortress of black steel on the eastern tower. Its twin-linked chain-guns spun up with a rising electrical whine I felt through my seat.
BRRRRRRT.
A stream of tracers thicker than my arm tore across the sky. It intersected the diving A03. The alien didn't just explode; it disintegrated, shredded into a cloud of ichor and spinning chitin.
The guns fell silent, smoke coiling from their barrels. In the battery's armored firing slit, a figure in GDF plate—Sergeant Lenon Briggs—turned his helmeted face upward. He couldn't possibly see me through the canopy glare and distance, but he raised a fist, slammed it against his chestplate, then thrust a thick-gloved hand toward the burning fort below.
The gesture was a deliberate, broadcast to the sky. The message was clear: Get back in the fight.
The battery's motors whined as it traversed, its massive guns already tracking the next target in the swarm.
"ACI Central to Fort Archlight, sitrep," Enzo called, switching channels.
"Major Alfonso Rodriguez, GDF. We read you." The Major's voice was wire-tight. "Northern perimeter is breached. Tanks engaged, our birds are tied up. Casualties mounting."
"Clear grid Delta-7. We're engaging directly."
"Understood."
Enzo exhaled sharply. "Blackbird-9, form on me. We're hitting the main A03 swarm at Delta-7. Kestrel-14, hold the line here."
"You'll be stretched thin, Blackbird," Quill's voice was gravel.
"We're already thin," Enzo said. "Might as well be thin where it counts. Frost, you still with us?"
I was. But my HUD was shifting.
[Primary Threat Detected: A03 x3 — Bearing 045]
[Trajectory Analysis: Diving on GDF Armor Column]
[Recommended Action: Override Manual Formation — Engage Primary Threat]
[Awaiting User Confirmation]
It was highlighting three A03s that had broken from the main swarm. They were in a steep dive, headed for a cluster of GDF tanks, and the tower holding the eastern line. The very one Sergeant Briggs's Battery was mounted upon.
The system wasn't just showing me a threat. It was waiting for my command— just like the Talon had moved during the training sim, waiting for something—maybe for me.
I could still feel it, that phantom twitch of the stick before my own hand moved. The memory was a cold knot in my stomach. My jet might be alive, and I was strapped inside it.
Orders said stay in formation.
But Fort Archlight would burn. And maybe the only thing that could save it was the very thing I was afraid of.
"Engage," I whispered.
The HUD bloomed.
[Primary Vessel Link — Fully Active]
[Targeting: XN-A03s — Priority: Critical]
[Maneuver Sync: Max]
I felt it, a subtle thrum from my hand to the stick. Then the Talon moved on its own, breaking out of formation.
"Frost! Maintain formation!" Enzo's voice ripped through the channel.
"Paige, get back in line! Now!" Sophia cut in, her tone sharp.
"Now's not the time to play ace!" Eze snapped.
I didn't answer, I couldn't. My eyes were locked on the HUD.
[XN-A03 #1 — Weak Points Detected]
[XN-A03 #2 — Weak Points Detected]
[XN-A03 #3 — Weak Points Detected]
The Talon veered sharp left, heading straight for the three A03s. My hand was on the stick, but I was just a passenger. The HUD lit paths, predicted their evasions, calculated the kill shots.
[Critical Hit Zones Locked]
I let it guide me. My heart was a hammer against my ribs, but my hands were steady on a stick I wasn't really controlling.
The shots fired.
BRRRRRRRT.
One.
Two.
Three.
Each A03 vanished in a bloom of fire, one after the other, a perfect chain of destruction. My Talon slipped through the gap between the explosions, like it was cutting through a curtain.
On the ground, a GDF soldier—Private Wayne—stared up, mouth open. "Now that's legendary."
Silence on the comms. Then Eze, his voice low and impressed came through: "Okay."
"Wow," Hana breathed. "Just… wow."
Enzo's voice cut back in, clipped. "Re-form. Now. And Frost… you better know what you're doing."
I didn't respond.
My eyes stayed fixed ahead, my mind racing, lost in thought. There was no 'almost' about it now. The system in my head, the one I didn't understand, had done this. It had made my jet more than a machine.
It had made it... alive.
★.—. —. —. ★
On Valkyr Ridge, Rizok watched the chaos below. Vorkin stood at his side, his four-pupiled eyes fixed on the tactical display.
"That human," Vorkin said, his voice a low hum. "He flies… differently."
Rizok's mandibles flexed in a gesture that wasn't a smile. "Bring him down."
Vorkin gave a sharp nod. He banked his A03, and two others fell into formation behind him. A spear-tip, aimed right at my back.
[Incoming Hostiles — Priority: Critical]
[Threat Count: 3 — XN-A03 — Engaged]
Tracers screamed past my cockpit. My Talon reacted—weaving, dipping, sliding through the hail of fire like it knew every shot before it was fired.
"He needs help!" Sophia's voice cut hard across the channel.
"Maintain formation. Do not break," Enzo ordered.
"Roger," she shot back, the word clipped short.
Then, impact.
The Talon shuddered as a plasma burst tore across the fuselage. Alarms shrieked. The ground spun up to meet me in a dizzying rush. Vorkin, seeing the Talon tumble, pulled away with the other two, assuming the fight was over.
Red lights flooded the HUD. My hand shot toward the eject lever, then froze.
[Damage critical — Hull integrity: 17%]
[Auto-repair — Activated]
[Estimated repair time: 10… 9… 8…]
My breath caught.
What the hell?
It wasn't just stabilizing. It was rebuilding itself. In mid-air.
[6…5… 4…]
Every instinct screamed eject, but my hands stayed on the controls. Something deeper held me there—a wire-thin connection between me and the machine.
[3… 2… 1…]
The shuddering stopped.
The ground was right there—close enough to see the torn-up dirt and burning wreckage, then the Talon's nose lifted, impossibly smooth, and leveled out a heartbeat from impact. It leveled out, wings steady, as if the hit had never been.
It floated. Balanced. Alive.
What the hell I'm I flying?
"How…?" Eze's whisper was pure disbelief.
Above, Vorkin's A03 tilted sharply. His voice was a static-laced rasp. "Impossible."
In the distance, Rizok raised a slow hand. His voice was calm. Final. "Vorkin. Call off the attack."
"But, Commander—"
"Call it off."
Vorkin's shoulders sank. "Yes, Commander."
The A03s broke away. The G11s below hesitated, then began to pull back, peeling from the fort like a dark tide receding.
All eyes—human and Xyne—turned upward to the single Talon, now pulling back into the sky, hanging flawless against the smoke and fire.
Vorkin's voice was low, a hissed whisper to his commander. "Is it… what I think it is?"
Rizok's reply was serene."Yes."
"How?" Vorkin's voice was tight, disbelieving. "How does a human have what is ours? How is he controlling a Vessel?"
Rizok raised a silencing finger. "Alert High Command. Tell them… the Codex has been found, and its User… is human."
The morning held its breath. The air went still. The only sound was the low, steady hum of my Talon's engines and the quiet pulse of my HUD as it continued its slow, perfect hover across the wounded sky.
Alive. Unbroken.
Mine.
★★.—. ★★