Engines beat the air into shape.
Snow flattened in rings. Rotors roared over the ridge and tilted the tree tops sideways. A quadcopter braked hard above the slope. Ropes dropped. Boots hit snow - fast, clean, practiced.
A second craft hovered behind it. A third came in wide. The sky felt crowded in a good way for once.
Then a darker shape sliced down.
A figure knifed through clouds, wingsuit catching wind. He folded at the last second, flared, and landed in a kneel hard enough to throw powder up in a halo. A pole slid into his hand and split - twin blades locking with a metallic click.
Rune grinned like the mountain owed him money. "You can breathe now, rookies!" He called
Oren dropped beside him and slammed his shield into the snow like planting a flag. Ryuu thudded down a step later, mechanical limbs hissing. Keita unfolded his twin fans; edges flashed pale and sharp. Behind, the second-years spread without a word.
