Location: Aeris Defence Alliance
GDF Fort Archlight, Columbia Sector
★★★
The night was quiet enough that you could hear boots scuffing against concrete.
Inside Fort Archlight's outer motor pool, three soldiers lounged beside an idling APC—helmets off, rifles leaned against their legs, steam rising from their coffee cups.
Sergeant Lenon Briggs slapped his hand against the APC's armor and grinned like he owned the world.
"…and I'm telling you," he said, leaning forward, "two XN-∆s. Just me, unarmed, bare fists, and a combat knife. Dropped both of them before they even twitched."
Private Wayne blinked, wide-eyed.
"No way. Two of them? Bare-handed?"
Lenon puffed his chest.
"Kid, when you've been in the GDF as long as—"
"—don't believe a damn thing Briggs says," another sergeant called out from the fuel racks, rolling his eyes. "Last week he said he arm-wrestled an XN-G08."
Wayne snorted. The third soldier, Private Keller, shook his head.
Lenon held up a finger.
"Hey, that roach was malfunctioning. And drunk."
They all laughed.
Then the alarms hit.
A piercing wail ripped through the Fort—red lights snapping to life, klaxons howling across the concrete and steel.
The soldiers froze.
Lenon's smirk dropped instantly.
"…ah hell."
GDF personnel sprinted across the yard, grabbing rifles, slamming helmets on, climbing into vehicles. Helicopter blades began spinning up on the pads. Deck crews yelled orders over the noise.
Major Alfonso Rodriguez strode into the chaos, calm but fast, coat half-buttoned, jaw tight.
"Talk to me!" he barked at a comms specialist rushing to his side.
The soldier shoved a tablet into his hands.
"Multiple bogeys inbound, sir! XN-G11 signatures—ten, maybe fifteen!"
Rodriguez's face hardened.
"Get the tanks in position! I want Hellspitters on the north wall! Rotor teams—airborne now!"
"Yes, sir!"
Engines roared to life.
An entire line of ADA tanks rolled out from behind the inner barricade, cannons swiveling toward the ridge.
Helicopters clawed into the air, searchlights cutting across the dark.
Lenon snapped a rocket launcher off a rack—ADA T-14, standard issue.
He slammed a fresh tube in.
Wayne swallowed beside him.
"You ever seen this many XN-G11s before?" Wayne asked.
Lenon cracked his neck.
"Nope. But I'm glad you're seeing this with me. Makes the story better."
Above them, the first shapes crested the far ridge—huge, insectoid silhouettes crawling into view in the moonlight.
XN-G11s. Burrow Ants.
Armored, massive, and fast.
Searchlights locked onto them. Tanks fired and the ridge lit up in orange flashes.
The battle started instantly.
One XN-G11 broke formation, sprinting down the slope.
Lenon braced the T-14 on his shoulder.
"Watch this, Wayne."
FWOOOM—
The rocket spiraled out, slammed straight into the Ant's thorax.
BOOM.
The creature flipped end-over-end and crashed into the dirt, smoking.
Lenon smirked, lowering the tube.
"Bull's-eye."
Private Wayne looked at him like he was some kind of god.
For a moment, it looked like Fort Archlight had the upper hand—shells landing solid hits, helicopters strafing the ridge, infantry pouring fire into the advancing swarm.
Then—on the top of Valkyr Ridge—
Lieutenant Vorkin stood with his commander, Rizok, watching the chaos unfold below. Dust rolled across the valley, illuminated by muzzle flashes and the streaks of ADA rockets.
Vorkin didn't look away from the burning defense line.
"Now?" he asked, voice steady.
Rizok's mandibles flexed once — the closest thing he ever gave to a smile.
"Now."
At that single word, the sky trembled.
From behind them, something larger dropped from the sky with a metallic screech—an XN-A03 Razor Hornet, wings folding as it landed.
Rizok stepped onto its plated back like he'd done it a thousand times. The creature's chitin plates locked around him as if recognizing its rider.
Behind Vorkin, the squad of XN-∆ soldiers moved into place as more XN-A03s landed. The XN-∆ troopers climbed onto their mounts, locking into the Hornets' dorsal harnesses. Their Xyne rifles powered up in a rising harmonic whine, like the charging of a dozen storm generators.
Vorkin raised his fist and shouted to them:
"TAKE THE FORT!"
All at once, the Razor Hornets launched—no roar, just a violent displacement of air as they dove off the ridge in a spear-tip formation, the whole strike force streaking toward Fort Arclight like a falling constellation.
For the soldiers inside the Fort, for the first time that night, it felt like the ground itself turned against them.
Fort Archlight's real fight had just begun.
★★★
Location: Central Atlantic Defense Corridor, ACI HQ
—
I woke to the sound no pilot ever wants to hear: the base-wide red alert.
The klaxon hit like a punch to the skull, shaking the walls, rattling the bunk frames, vibrating through my ribs. My HUD flickered awake automatically, overlaying my ceiling, my door, the distance to the hallway—pointless data that barely registered before the voice of the internal PA cut through everything:
{Fort Arclight reports active engagement. All divisions, stand by.}
I was on my feet before I was even fully conscious.
By the time I sprinted into Briefing Room Delta with the rest of Blackbird-9, the place was already packed—way more bodies than usual. I needed half a second to realize why.
Kestrel-14. Another strike squadron, different division, their blue-trimmed flight suits lined across the far wall like they'd been dragged out of bed even faster than we were.
Colonel Holt stood at the front, jaw tight, the display behind him showing Fort Arclight's terrain map in flashing red.
The moment we stepped in, he didn't waste a second.
"Listen up," Holt said, voice clipped. "Fort Arclight is under heavy assault. Initial scans confirm multiple XN-G11s breaching the Fort's outer line, with XN-A03s sighted emerging from the Valkyr Perimeter Observation Ridge—approximately fourteen point seven kilometers northeast of the ADA Ground Defense Front."
He tapped the console. Red signatures bloomed across the holo-map like spilled blood.
"Burrow patterns indicate a full push. We are dispatching two divisions immediately—Blackbird-9 and Kestrel-14. Twelve birds total."
His eyes narrowed.
"Eleven, actually. Commander Sofia Alvarez will not be part of this run. Orders from ACI Command Director."
Silence hit the room, the bad kind.
I glanced sideways.
Sofia's jaw clenched so tight it might've cracked. Her hands balled at her sides. She didn't speak, but the fury was loud enough to hear anyway.
Holt continued, pretending not to see it.
"Blackbird-9—you'll spearhead the run. Kestrel-14 follows in high cover. Expect anti-air fire from ground-based XN-∆ rifles and G11s. Prioritize A03 suppression."
He straightened.
"That'll be all. Move."
We saluted in unison, but the tension didn't leave with it.
As we filed out, Eze slowed beside Sofia, dropping his voice.
"Sorry, Alvarez."
She didn't answer, didn't even look at him. She didn't have to though, the anger radiating off her was answer enough.
I caught Holt watching me from the doorway—just a second, just a flicker. A look that saw more than the uniform I wore.
Then he turned and walked away.
The moment the hangar doors slid open, the smell hit—jet fuel, coolant, metal, ozone. The sound of engineers yelling and engines spooling filled the air.
Our lineup of ACI Talons gleamed under the overhead lights like a row of caged beasts.
Jae-Seong elbowed me lightly as we moved toward our prep stations.
"First mission with Blackbird-9," he said. "Try not to slow us down."
Hana scoffed before I could respond.
"Oh please. With the move he pulled during training? I should be asking if you can keep up."
Jae clicked his tongue. "One miracle turn and suddenly he's our ace, huh?"
They laughed, the kind that cuts tension without admitting it's there.
Enzo clapped once.
"Alright, team. Gear up."
Helmets locked.
Suits sealed.
Weapons double-checked.
But I didn't move toward the cockpit yet.
Instead, I stood there—just staring at my Talon.
The last time I touched that control stick, it had... moved before I even did anything.
Or maybe I had moved without realizing it.
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
My chest tightened.
I exhaled slowly.
That's when footsteps echoed behind me—sharp, purposeful.
Sofia strode into the hangar already in full flight gear, helmet under her arm, eyes burning with the kind of anger orders couldn't smother.
Eze blinked.
"Oh damn—your dad's gonna flip if he finds out."
She pulled her gloves tighter, chin lifting.
"Fight first," she said. "Worry later. Besides—"
She adjusted her helmet under her arm.
"I'm a soldier. Not a glass ornament."
My lips twitched. Not quite a smile, more like closer to a reflex I didn't bother stopping.
She caught my eye, I nodded, and she nodded back.
Then I climbed into my cockpit. Hands steady. Heart louder than the engines spinning up around me.
The HUD pulsed, shifting focus as if it had decided what to highlight first.
[Primary Vessel: ACI F-7X Aeris Talon]
[Engine Status: Online / Nominal]
[Systems Check: Complete]
[Weapon Systems: Armed / Standard ADA Loadout]
Everything was tagged, everything accounted for. Even the canopy glass shimmered with its metadata, the system's pulse almost… aware.
A crackle came through the comms.
"Lt. Comdr Quill Bennet, Unit Commander of Kestrel-14, call sign Hammer. We'll be following your lead, Blackbird."
Enzo's voice cut back, light but firm.
"Sure thing, just don't shoot us from behind."
Laughter bounced across the comms, quick and nervous.
Control's voice snapped them down, clipped, professional:
{Control to all flight units. Maintain formation. Weapons only on confirmed targets. Launch in T-minus thirty seconds.}
"Blackbird-9 all set for take off." Enzo called.
Quill responded, crisp: "Kestrel-14, ready."
I exhaled, letting the tension slip just enough to focus. The Talon hummed beneath me, alive in ways I was still only beginning to understand.
"Frost, ready," I murmured to myself, almost a whisper.
And then we moved.
The world outside blurred. Engines screamed, and the sky waited for whatever chaos the night would throw at us—fire and metal, shadows moving faster than thought, and the ghosts of things no human was meant to face.