With a sharp
*hiss!
of pressurized air, a panel along the side of the Nightjarr split open, releasing a cloud of vapor that quickly dispersed into the air.
From within, a small stepping ramp unfolded smoothly, the metallic plates locking into place with a heavy clank.
The faint hum of the ship's inner systems echoed faintly beneath the mechanical sound, the entire structure feeling alive and responsive—like it was breathing.
Rox wasted no time.
She stepped forward, her boots clanging lightly against the ramp as she ascended the short series of steps.
When she reached the top, she turned back toward Gelhyne and extended a hand.
"Come on," she said, her voice firm but with a faint trace of warmth beneath the usual edge.
Gelhyne paused.
Her gaze flicked from Rox's outstretched hand, to the interior of the ship that waited behind her, and then back to Rox's determined expression.
For a brief second, she hesitated—
*sigh…
then sighed softly before reaching forward, grasping Rox's hand.
The two women ascended together, their steps echoing faintly as they entered the ship's dimly lit corridor.
The moment Gelhyne stepped inside, her eyes widened.
The interior was unlike any vessel she had ever seen—sleek, compact, and built for precision rather than comfort.
Black alloy walls lined with faint crimson circuitry glowed subtly, while holographic panels projected data across the narrow bridge.
Every surface was polished,
every tool precisely placed;
not a single inch of the ship felt wasted.
"This is…" Gelhyne murmured, her voice trailing off as she turned slowly to take in every detail.
Rox smirked, hands resting on her hips as she looked around with pride. "Impressive, isn't it? Not bad for something that's been shot at more times than I can count."
Gelhyne ran her fingers along one of the nearby control panels, the surface smooth and warm to the touch.
"So this is the Nightjarr," she whispered, her tone shifting into awe.
"The ship that terrified enemy squadrons, the one they called the Wraith of the Skies…"
Rox gave a small nod, her smirk turning faintly nostalgic.
"Wraith of the skies and the void," she corrected.
"Built by the Corvi Empire… and piloted by yours truly."
The hum of the Nightjarr deepened, as if acknowledging her words—its engines purring faintly like a living creature remembering its own legend.
"Mhm, the empire truly knows their weapons of war," Gelhyne murmured, forcing herself to pull her attention away from the sleek systems surrounding her.
Yet as she turned to look back at Rox, her focus shifted—and her composure faltered.
Rox, standing a few steps ahead, raised her hand and pressed a small recessed button along the side of her neck brace.
The faint sound of hydraulics hissed as the seals of her helmet disengaged.
A ripple of light travelled up the sides of her helmet as the faceplate began to retract—its bird-like design folding away piece by piece until only the smooth, beak-shaped mask remained.
*click!
With one final click, Rox reached up, unlatched it, and lifted the mask free.
The hiss of decompression faded, replaced by a heavy silence.
For the first time, Gelhyne saw the face that was hidden beneath the myth.
The infamous Wraith of the Skies—the Corvi Empire's most feared pilot—stood before her not as a symbol, but as a woman.
Rox's hair fell loose in dark, sleek strands that framed her face like shadows under the dim cabin light.
Her skin bore faint scars of past battles, yet her eyes burned with a sharp, amber glow that was almost feral—like a predator watching, calculating, alive.
Her expression was calm, but her presence alone was suffocating in its intensity.
Gelhyne felt her throat tighten.
She had read everything about Rox—her kill counts, her record-breaking maneuvers, the rumors that she was more machine than flesh due to her dependence on her suit for survival.
But none of the files, none of the data, had ever prepared her for this.
She lingered for a moment too long, her gaze tracing from Rox's eyes to the curve of her jaw, and—traitorously—to her lips before she caught herself.
"Urgh…" Gelhyne exhaled, blinking rapidly as she forced her attention elsewhere.
*ahem!
She coughed once, perhaps too forcefully, to mask the sudden flush of her cheeks.
"S-So, uh—let's… get back to the task at hand, shall we?"
Her tone cracked halfway through, but she quickly straightened her back, pretending composure.
Rox's lips twitched into a small, amused smirk.
"Of course," she said simply.
Then, lowering her head slightly, she gave a mock bow with deliberate grace.
"Your wish is my command, my lady."
Before Gelhyne could respond, Rox turned on her heel and strode toward the cockpit.
The hum of the Nightjarr's systems responded to her touch as she approached the command seat, the panels flickering to life around her.
The faint red glow reflected off her now-unmasked face, painting her eyes like molten gold.
Gelhyne exhaled quietly behind her, now refocused.
"Right…" she muttered under her breath.
"Let's fly and find this ruin."
Gelhyne spoke one final time, her voice steady again though her mind was still replaying the image of Rox's unveiled face.
She made her way toward one of the passenger seats lining the side of the ship, her boots echoing lightly against the metallic floor.
With a slow exhale, she lowered herself onto the seat and buckled in, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the restraint before locking it in place.
*click!
From where she sat, she had a clear view of Rox in the pilot's seat—her movements swift and deliberate, like a practiced dance she had done a thousand times before.
The cockpit glowed faintly in shades of red and blue as Rox's hands moved across the control panels, pressing, flipping, and swiping through complex sequences with mechanical precision.
Each motion triggered a low hum or a flicker of light from the surrounding instruments.
Gelhyne leaned back, quietly observing.
The way Rox handled the ship was almost hypnotic—her posture relaxed yet commanding, her focus sharp and unwavering.
For someone who had spent most of her life in data vaults and terminals, watching a true pilot at work was something entirely different—alive, instinctive, raw.
After a few moments,
*click!
Rox pressed one final switch.
*whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
The sound of power surging through the ship echoed faintly, a rising whir that pulsed through the floor beneath them.
"Ship primed up!" the AI's voice rang out through the speakers, calm yet cheerful.
"All energy cores are stable. We are ready to take the skies, Captain!"
"Perfect," Rox replied, her tone clipped yet satisfied.
She reached to her side, pulling down her harness and locking it across her chest before glancing over her shoulder.
Her amber eyes caught Gelhyne's for just a second.
"Hold on tight," she said with a faint smirk.
Gelhyne didn't answer—she simply tightened her grip on the armrest and braced herself, jaw set.
And then, with a sharp pull of the throttle, the Nightjarr came alive.
*drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
*DRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!
The thrusters roared with a deep, thunderous boom, shaking the air around them as the ground beneath the ship scattered dust and debris outward in all directions.
*VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR—
*BOOM!
The rumble grew into a violent tremor as the vessel lifted, hovering for a split second before shooting upward.
The light from the engines cut through the treetops like a burning comet as the Nightjarr burst into the skies, leaving only a fading trail of shimmering eidra behind it.