The moment the order was given, the engines of the airplanes roared to life as they began taking to the sky, without delay. At the lead, Lazlow tightened his straps, his fingers pushing on the throttle as his fighter lurched, wheels spinning, and then... he was up, facing the sky, away from the army down below. The ground fell away without him looking, as what awaited them was a different battlefield.

Behind him, dozens of black dots rose around him, regrouping as Eagle Squadron pulled into formation. Turning his head, he watched as all the other units, down to the biplanes they still had, were climbing; this time, everyone would be sent to fight in this battle. He watched as Brask's fighter slid into place, once again acting like his wingman.

"All wings, form up. Keep the formation tight," Lazlow's voice crackled through the radio of everyone, sounding as steady as stone, even though deep down, he was nervous. But... he was their lead, and he would act as any Avalonian leader should: by being their example.

Still... when he looked forward, his chest seized as they reached the nest of the beast...

The Guardian was like a mountain that had decided to grow legs and a head. Even curled around itself, its wings used as an umbrella, it was... frightening and enormous. Its white scales were flashing with fire as the artillery pounded at its shell, each explosion letting out a resounding boom, yet they barely scarred its armored hide. How will they fight something like this? He didn't know... but they had to find a way.

Of course, the planes didn't come alone.

Two Avalonian airships, the Eagle's Nest and the Stormbringer, cut through the sky from their flanks, their cannons already firing, while the Camelot was even higher up, amongst the clouds, raining down hellfire just the same. Yet, it wasn't all, because behind the airplanes, three Ishillian flying ships were bringing up the rear, one of them being the Judgement, Empress Mirian's and the Ishillian bloodline's main pride. Maybe the only one that could go toe-to-toe with the Avalonian creations.

"Target's locked. Bombers are going to make the first run inbound," a controlling officer's voice cut in, coming from the Eagle's Nest, "All fighter wings are to escort. Make it bleed!"

The first wave, acknowledging their order, dove the moment they got into position. The heavy bomber fighters dropped their payloads the moment they dived low enough, bringing them to the perfect angle, and as their shipment of death exploded, it was a repeating show of fireworks... But with little to no effect. Of course, Lazlow followed their plunge, his own machine rattling as air screamed across his canopy, and the yoke trembled in his grip. He saw the bombs' impact in a rolling chain across the Guardian's wings. The beast had to feel it as he saw it shake and tremble... but beside that, there was not much damage... Yet.

"It is a hard bastard! Let's do it again!" Brask yelled, and as if hearing him, the Guardian all of a sudden began moving. "Not good! Break, break!"

As the planes broke formation, dodging how its wings snapped open, it was... Some couldn't pull out in time, and multiple bombers simply crashed into the opening wings... No matter who it was, it was too late to stop the creature from whatever it was doing.

In the next moment, from the fissures around it, a new batch of creatures clawed their way out. They were not that big, half the size of the planes buzzing in the air, but... these were ones that could fly. Even if they were just made out of bones, the single, glowing runes on their bodies propelled them to the sky, going after the arriving planes, matching their speed, sometimes even overcoming it.

"Spread out!" Lazlow yelled, "Eagle Squadron, scatter!"

"They fly?!" Brask's curse ripped across the radio, "They bloody fly?!"

By then, they were among the Avalonian planes, and Lazlow saw as the first bone-creature slammed into a bomber, its claws slicing apart the metal like it was made of paper. Sparks flew everywhere as it tore a wing free, and the plane rolled into fire, trailing smoke as it crashed into the figure of the Guardian below in a glowing, orange ball of fire. Lazlow swore, jerking his stick to line up a shot of one of the many monsters that now occupied the sky. His nose guns spat just as angrily as he did, the tracers hitting the bone. Even with their hardiness, the kinetic energy did its job as one flyer disintegrated, its body and skull bursting apart. Yet, as it fell, three more replaced it, shrieking as they spiraled into the squadron.

"Break! Break!" someone screamed.

The radio dissolved into chaos, while Lazlow rolled, his stomach slamming into his harness, as a flyer streaked past close enough for him to see the rune glowing on its spine. Bringing his plane to bear at it, fighting against all the forces trying to make him black out, he squeezed the trigger again, the rounds hammering that bastard until the thing burst apart, fragments of bone splintering everywhere.

"Too close! Too damn close!" Lazlow gasped, bringing his plane level, looking around.

"Stay on me!" Brask's voice cut like a whip across his ears, his fighter ripping past overhead as his burst cut down two bone flyers with surgical precision, "Stay with me, Laz! Pause and you're dead!"

"Isn't it me who is your leader?" Lazlow joked, hearing Brask chuckle while he banked hard, forcing his fighter into Brask's tail. Together, they dove through a mess of the gathering enemy, their tracer fire taking down a handful of them... but it was just not enough.

As they flew around, they passed above the Stormbringer, which was firing its cannons in a repeating sequence, aiming at the fissures, with entire sections of the still appearing monsters being blown apart before they had a chance to get to the skies. At the same time, to the north, the Eagle's Nest was circling around the Guardian, aiming to fire its cannons at its body, now that it had opened its wings wide, to summon the new horde. As for the Ishillian ships, they were staying a bit further away, using a kind of long-range spell that Lazlow had never seen before, but it was like beams of arrows striking at the Guardian's abdomen.

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Another scream tore through the comms, bringing Lazlow out of his momentary stupor as another pilot howled as a flyer shredded his tail. Lazlow flinched, eyes darting to catch the streak of fire as the plane spiraled down, trailing pieces of wing and fuselage, while its pilot was doing his best to make sure that if he had to go down, he would hit the Guardian's body.

"Another down!" someone else called, voice breaking, followed by static.

Lazlow didn't answer... He couldn't, and soon, a flyer was on his tail, chasing him, trying to catch his plane. No matter what he did, the monster was gaining on him as his breath froze, his hands jerking the stick into a desperate barrel roll. Just then, tracers whined across the air where his cockpit had been a heartbeat before, but, in an unnatural way of demonic reflexes, this one managed to dodge the incoming attack.

"Shake him, Laz!" Brask barked, flying past his commander, cursing for missing the monster, already doing his best to loop around and give it a second try, "Shake him!"

"I'm trying!" Lazlow snapped, his voice cracking through the radio. He shoved the throttle, the engine screaming, as the nose dropped into a rattling, high-speed dive. The world blurred in his eyes before he began pulling up, doing his best to not pass out. He felt his stomach crawl into his throat, yet no matter what he did, the flyer clung to his tail, its screech almost as if it was in his ears, wings folding for speed, defying every law of nature... using magic to speed up.

Then Brask finally caught up again... And this time, his burst lit the demonic monster up, his tracers punching clean through the flyer's spine, causing the thing to explode into shards, scattering across the air.

"You owe me!" Brask roared.

"You'll get a barrel of your choice if we live!" Lazlow gasped, but his hands didn't leave the controls, not for a second.

It wasn't over yet... And he wasn't sure if he would see the end either.

... .... .....

I knew before Sasha said it... We weren't doing enough. The feed I was reading showed it plainly. Every bombardment, every payload, every shell, no matter what we threw at it, this fucking Guardian endured it like it was nothing. No wonder this thing managed to keep the Pass occupied and survive it all...

"We're only tickling the bastard," I muttered in anger, "It must have a weakness!"

"I'm preparing an option," Merlin muttered, as he was drawing in the air while he spoke, "It will be an anti-magic net... I am fairly sure that the creature is this resistant because it is covering its inside with a shield spell, dissipating both magical and physical energies. As far as I can see, only our tangible shells are doing any visible damage to its scales... the magical is like... nothing."

"Do it," I nodded, "Kustov, hold us steady! Sasha, if it tries and bites back, I want us to have our own shields up and at full strength!"

Merlin's eyes were already closed, his lips moving soundlessly as he continued creating his spell on the spot. As it manifested around him, I could see the transparent book in his hand, almost as a second entity, completing the runes that Merlin summoned, giving him a boost in casting speed. Then, with a pulse sharp enough to sting my eyes, he released it.

I saw it in the Imaginary, as a wave of magic, aimed directly at the beast, reached it in just a few seconds. The moment it got in, there was an immediate effect as almost half of the creatures in the sky simply fell down, without a pause or a chance to recover... But sadly, not all... Because there was a counter-reaction from the Guardian.

I saw its mouth open to roar, and in that moment, I also got a new idea. But then the scream hit us like a hammer against a bell... and we were in the middle of it, listening to its ringing.

The Camelot lurched as though struck directly, and next, Merlin shrieked in a way I had never heard before. His body arched, and I saw blood bursting from his nose, his spell bursting apart like it was glass. I don't know where she appeared from so quick, but Sasha caught him before he hit the deck, shouting his name, but he was barely conscious, gasping like he'd taken the blow with his whole being.

Fuck... But it was not all, because alarms howled the next moment and the Imaginary feed went dark, and worst of it all, I felt as the ship began tilting and falling out of the sky.

"The cores went offline!" Kustov yelled, holding on, trying to do... anything. "All of our propulsion is dead!"

"Restart them!" I shouted, glancing at Sasha, "Now, or we all go down!"

Sasha understood, so with a quick glance, she had to let Merlin go, while I tried to make sure he wouldn't roll away, but there was no time to worry about one man. She was already using her own magic to, as instinctively as possible, burn away whatever spell infected our systems. I don't know what she did, or if even she did anything, but the interference, after something that felt like a lifetime, was receding. I heard and felt as the cores of the Camelot came back online and the ship jerked, staggered, then steadied under Kustov's instant reaction, pulling it out from its fall. It was everything but graceful... and I was about to let out a breath, but when the Imaginary came back up, the sight that greeted us... froze me in place.

The Guardian's maw was open, and another beam-attack was leaving it just then.

It was pure luck... No, it was my wife who saved us, because Sasha managed to bring up the shields at the last time, causing the beam to splatter against it, rocking the Camelot.

As for the others...?

I watched as the first Ishillian ship took it full in the prow. Their shields were also offline... Damn it! One moment, it was whole, attacking the swarm, and by the next, it was blown into two halves, which were tumbling down in opposite arcs, fire consuming both before they hit the ground. The second ship tried to veer, but it was too slow, and the beam carved through its keel, and it disintegrated in midair, raining burning wreckage over the battlefield.

The third ship, Mirian's Judgement, tried to dive. For one, just for one second, I thought it wouldn't make it. But then it hit its stern... Still... it was not an ordinary ship, and even as the attack went through, the boat itself bobbed a few times, but then stabilized, remaining in the sky.

On the other hand... The Stormbringer was not as lucky.

The Guardian's last beam had carved straight through her belly, from bow to stern. It was... a bullseye shot. I watched as the ariship shuddered in the sky, her prow dipped, then the whole vessel began to tilt downwards. Watching... I saw that even as it was visibly about to go down, its guns still fired. Even as she burned, even as black smoke was coming from her insides, her weapons still worked, and it was doing its best to angle in a way that, while falling out of the sky, it would fire until they hit ground.

"No…" Sasha whispered, watching it happen.

"She's going down," Kustov reported, and I could sense what he was feeling, memories coming back, "It's going for an attack!" He added, and true, the Guardian was opening its mouth, now smelling blood in the water, aiming to bring down Mirian's remaining ship and the defeated Stormbringer... But then, my idea popped back into my mind.

"Kustov! Take us into point, straight at its mouth!"

"Sovereign?" He asked, but was already maneuvering the ship as I ordered.

"Clear the skies!" I continued yelling on open channel, "Brace for impact!" I continued, as I began priming our main weapon, "Let's see if this fucking demon can withstand an explosion... from its inside!"

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