The ramp sealed behind them with a hiss that sounded too final for comfort. The sound bounced through the cabin before fading into the ship's deep mechanical hum, a pulse steady and confident beneath their boots. The air inside smelled faintly of new metal, leather, and oil, that particular scent that belonged only to machines that hadn't yet seen war. They were dressed and immaculate, a squad of newly minted High Imperators wrapped in living fabric that shimmered like liquid graphite. The Legion's emblem gleamed over their hearts, and the gold of the cabin's lights caught the faint ripple of the nano-weave as they moved. It was the kind of perfection that felt like performance, like they were walking into someone else's idea of glory.

Wesley broke the silence first. "So… we got dressed up just so The High Council could stare at us for, what, five seconds?" His tone was flat, halfway between disbelief and irritation.

Ramis tugged at his collar, grimacing. "Five glorious seconds. Worth every minute of pretending to stand still." He shifted his shoulders, testing the fabric as if expecting it to fight back. It didn't. The material moved with him, soft and effortless, a reminder that this was no ordinary uniform.

"Was that the point?" Wesley pressed. "To stand there looking like a holo ad for discipline?"

Chime didn't even glance away from the glowing wall display she'd already started tinkering with. "That wasn't the point," she said, flicking through command screens with the ease of someone who ignored rules by instinct. "When Ruka said we'd be 'introduced to the world,' she meant it literally. This ship's heading straight for the Citadel. We're going to our introduction now."

Vaeliyan turned toward her, brow raised. "Now as in…?"

"As in while every holo feed on the planet's broadcasting your face," Chime said, a grin curling at the edge of her mouth. "You're about to be famous, Siren's Song. Try not to look like you hate it."

Wesley groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "That's halfway across the continent. We'll hit night before we're even close."

Chime's grin widened, teeth bright against the glow of the console. "An hour. Maybe less. This thing's faster than Kasala's skycraft by miles. I've read the specs, drooled over them actually. I've dreamed of flying one of these since I saw the prototype leaks."

Jurpat blinked. "You've what?"

"Dreamed of it, lusted after it, pick your verb," she said, brushing past him toward the cockpit. "And before anyone says it, I call pilot."

Elian frowned. "You're certified for that?"

Chime tossed a look over her shoulder. "Certified-adjacent. I've got sim hours. Hundreds. Didn't even crash for the last… six, seven days?" She palmed the cockpit door and stepped through before anyone could stop her.

The door sealed with a hydraulic click that sounded suspiciously like a death sentence.

Fenn exhaled slow. "Well. This is how we die, overdressed, under supervision, and piloted by hubris."

Lessa smirked. "Relax. Worst case, she flies us into a mountain and we die celebrities."

"Yeah," Vaeliyan muttered, leaning back in one of the sleek lounge seats as the engines began to spin up. "Exactly what I wanted. Immortalized as the idiot who got introduced to the world by exploding into it."

The ship rumbled, the vibration low and alive, but the smooth ascent they expected didn't come. Instead, the Bolt Fire lurched sideways with a groan that threw several of them out of their seats. One of the floating tables slid a few inches before magnetizing again. Lights flickered, and the entire cabin tilted before stabilizing. A few shouted curses echoed across the room.

"Whoa, Chime?" Wesley barked.

The intercom crackled, Chime's voice bursting through, strained but defiant. "Okay, okay, that was… turbulence! Perfectly normal. It's new, it's different from the sims, not exactly the same thing. I've got it. Nobody's gonna die, shut up, I can hear you back there."

Another jolt slammed through the ship, knocking a drink tray clean off its magnetic pad. Liquid splashed midair before the cleaner nanites caught it, dissolving the mess with a hiss. The cabin lights dimmed before stuttering back to full brightness. The noise built to a steady roar, like the vessel itself was arguing with her. The scent of ozone cut through the air. Sparks flared once, briefly, along the edge of the forward wall.

Jurpat grinned through clenched teeth from where he'd half-fallen across a sofa. "Turbulence, huh?"

"Don't tempt her," Sylen muttered.

"Maybe she's doing it on purpose," Lessa said, smirking as the floor tilted again. "Breaking it in."

"Breaking it apart," Elian shot back.

Chime's voice rose an octave. "I can hear all of you. Do not manifest that energy in my cockpit." Another sharp lurch followed, and she yelled over the intercom. "Give me a second. The controls are stiffer than the sims. I said I've got it."

The ship steadied for a moment, humming with tension. Then, just as suddenly, another violent jolt hit. Fenn fell straight off his seat, landed on his side, and stayed there for a second, blinking. A metal canister rolled across the floor, rattling against Vaeliyan's boot. He gave it a tired look and nudged it back under a table.

In the lull that followed, Styll stirred in Vaeliyan's coat pocket, her small head lifting, curious. She was about to speak when he caught her through the bond, a whisper brushing her thoughts. Not yet. Wait until I strip it down and replace the entire security system. Then you can talk. We'll make this thing an actual ghost. The warmth of his voice carried reassurance. She settled again, quietly.

Another burst of turbulence sent one of the reclining chairs sliding before its base magnets reengaged. The twins, Vexa and Leron, sat side by side, their movements eerie in their mirrored calm. "We are going to die," Vexa said flatly.

"Absolutely," Leron agreed. "Her Soul Skill is literally called Don't Fear the Reaper, and you're letting her fly."

"That's a fair point," Jurpat admitted from the floor. "You ever think about..." Another violent pitch cut him off mid-sentence. The overhead lights swayed, and the group collectively groaned as their seats shuddered.

Roan straightened, lounging in one of the chairs like he hadn't noticed the chaos. "I don't think we're going to crash," he said, voice calm as if that settled it.

The twins turned toward him with identical deadpan glares. "Of course you don't."

Roan tried to cut in, his tone sharp and hurried, clearly attempting to end the conversation before it went too far. "Don't you dare say a thing."

The twins shut their mouths instantly, both holding up their hands like they were surrendering to divine authority.

Vaeliyan tilted his head slightly, catching the flicker of awkward silence. "Wait… are you and Chime a thing?" he asked, genuine confusion edging his tone.

Roan groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "See what you did? You cursed cretins. We're not a, no. We're not a thing."

The ship jolted again, almost as if mocking them, throwing everyone forward. Lessa laughed despite herself, bracing against the armrest. "Feels like the ship disagrees."

Chime's voice came back over the comms, part amusement, part panic. "Everyone shut up. I said I've got it. The flight systems just needed to recalibrate." A pause. "And maybe, I don't know, sacrifice a goat or something. It couldn't hurt."

The turbulence that had haunted them since takeoff finally gave way to calm, the last tremors fading until only the quiet hum of the engines remained. The Bolt Fire slid through the upper atmosphere like a blade wrapped in silence, its hull gleaming against the pale light above the clouds. For the first time since launch, the air inside felt still. The tension that had knotted everyone's shoulders began to ease, replaced by that strange emptiness that comes only after chaos passes..

A click cracked through the quiet, followed by Chime's voice, bright and confident. "Alright, good news! We should be coming up on Kyrrabad soon. I actually figured everything out. Turns out they installed an inverse gyroscopic peritoneal system I hadn't seen before. But now that I know it's there, it makes sense, it lets a Skycraft this large make turns it shouldn't be able to. Honestly kind of genius." There was a short pause, and then a laugh. "Anyway, now we don't have to worry about that. I've got it. We're good. Totally good. Also, I hope you didn't actually kill that goat because, uh, that would be problematic at this altitude."

Her laughter carried through the speakers, a sound that somehow made the room feel more alive.

Vaeliyan groaned, leaning back in his seat. "Dear Gods, what have we done? What have we let loose upon the world?" His voice was a slow drawl, heavy with regret.

Ramis chuckled, the sound dry. "Would you rather be flying?"

"No," Vaeliyan said, dragging a hand down his face. "I feel like I never want to fly again."

Jurpat leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees, grin sharp. "Didn't you literally go out of your way to learn how to fly? That whole thing with you literally smashing yourself into the sky ring a bell?"

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Yeah," Vaeliyan said, voice flat. "That's different. I was in control. I don't want to be flying with anybody else. Especially not her."

Jurpat shrugged, chuckling under his breath. "Fair enough. Still, it's kind of fun watching her wrestle a warship midair."

Across the lounge, Elian stretched his legs, boots resting on the edge of the nearest chair. "Fun for you, maybe. My stomach's still trying to reattach itself to my ribs."

Fenn grinned. "That's just turbulence's love language."

The intercom crackled again, followed by Chime's cheerful tone. "Oh! If you guys look out the window, you should be able to see Kyrrabad coming up soon. I can already make out the ruins from here. Oh, and there's the ship Deck took down! Looks like they've gotten most of it stripped by now."

Jurpat turned toward the 360° glass, his reflection overlaying the view. The fractured skeleton of the Neuman cruiser hung in the distance like a bleeding carcass, scaffolds and cranes surrounding it in a web of construction lights. Its surface was a nightmare of bones and metal; human skulls fused into its hull as part of its grotesque design. Drones crawled across the wreck's frame, carving away at the remains piece by piece.

Rokhan's voice came from the far end of the lounge. "I wonder what happened to all the Neuman kids?"

Elian's brow furrowed. "If they even kept the children alive after that. You know how that goes."

Vaeliyan gave a faint nod, eyes narrowing. "Either way, it's feeding the machine now. Just another ruin waiting to be forgotten." He leaned back, the light from the viewport cutting across his face. "I'm more worried about what's waiting for us when we land. You think they'll send Ruby, or the Spire?"

Fenn didn't hesitate. "Probably Ruby. That's her style. Flashy, unsettling, always smiling like she knows your death date."

Elian groaned, rubbing his temples. "Great. I'm more worried about what happens when we land and my parents find us."

Ramis winced, sympathy tugging at his mouth. "Oh, yeah. That's a thing. I forgot your family's trying to hunt us down."

Jurpat laughed. "Oh, fuck. And Justinia and I still need to confirm if our suspicion about Gleck's son is right. If it is, we'll have to talk to him. Hopefully he's alive. If not, we're screwed either way."

Torman crossed his arms and leaned back, his voice quiet but carrying. "Yeah. I wonder where they sent him."

For a moment, the conversation died away. The only sound was the gentle hum of the Bolt Fire cutting through the air, steady and sure. The light outside flickered across their faces, gold, silver, blue, patterns of passing sky.

Vaeliyan stared out the panoramic glass, the clouds below glowing in the dying light of the upper stratosphere. "I don't know," he said softly. "But we'll find out soon enough."

Jurpat nodded, the humor fading from his voice. "I wonder what happened with Deic. And who we lost."

No one spoke for a moment. The weight of that thought hung over them like a second atmosphere.

"Yeah," Vaeliyan said finally, his voice quiet and certain. "There's a lot waiting for us when we get back. And it's only going to get worse from here."

A silence settled over them again, thick but familiar. The world stretched on, vast, bright, and merciless. The Bolt Fire kept moving, carrying them toward the city and everything waiting below.

The calm that had settled over the Bolt Fire fractured when the intercom crackled to life again. The sharp buzz cut through the low hum of the engines, jolting everyone from their uneasy stillness. Chime's voice came through, wavering between forced professionalism and unmistakable nausea. "Uh, okay, so… we're getting a call. A request for communication from Kyrrabad Command."

There was a pause. The sound of rapid tapping filled the line, buttons being hit in uneven rhythm, followed by a few muffled curses that weren't nearly as quiet as she thought. "They're giving me a flight pattern to follow. Apparently, they were told in advance that we'd be coming."

A murmur rippled through the lounge. The crew shifted in their seats, glancing toward one another and then toward the walls of glass that surrounded them. The clouds below had thinned to wisps, and faint amber light flickered on the horizon, Kyrrabad's first glow reaching up through the mist. The sight stretched vast and unreal, like the world was unrolling itself in preparation for their arrival.

Chime's voice returned, higher now, the tone of someone trying to sound calm while their stomach made other plans. "Alright, so, yeah. We're heading to a specific hangar. Says here we're being met by a reception." Another pause, a long one this time, and then, "So everybody, look sharp, look happy, and," a strangled noise slipped through, somewhere between a gag and a sigh, "try not to puke."

The lounge went quiet for half a second before Ramis broke the silence with a low laugh. "You sound like you're about to puke already."

"I'm fine!" Chime shot back immediately, her words echoing through the speakers. "Just, you know, adapting to the idea of our first real public appearances and, uh, not dying mid-air. Totally fine."

Wesley leaned back in his seat, smirking. "You sure? Because your definition of fine sounds like it's losing altitude."

"I heard that!" Chime snapped. "And I'm still fine!"

Jurpat leaned toward Vaeliyan, voice low but not low enough to escape Bastard's twitching ears. "You think she's actually going to land this thing?"

Vaeliyan sighed and rubbed at his temple. "Gods willing. If not, at least if she crashes, we won't have to go out there."

Lessa snorted. "You say that like dying in a fireball is the better option."

"Yeah, it's faster," Vaeliyan muttered.

A quiet laugh ran through the group. Even the tension felt lighter now, like the fear had burned itself out and left behind only disbelief. They'd all been through worse. Probably.

The ship began to descend through thicker air, engines shifting pitch as the artificial gravity recalibrated. The faint shimmer of Kyrrabad's atmospheric shield flickered across the panoramic glass like a second sunrise. Every ripple of light revealed another layer of the city sprawling beneath them: rings of towers, clusters of domes, veins of traffic glowing like molten metal. The closer they got, the more it filled the view until the horizon vanished beneath it.

"Alright," Chime said again, her voice smaller but steadier now. "Kyrrabad Command just pinged confirmation. They're sending coordinates directly to my AI. I'm following their pattern. We're about two minutes out from hangar contact. Everyone, make sure you look like… I don't know, heroes or something." She hesitated, then added, "Or at least like people who haven't been praying for a fiery death the whole time."

Fenn grinned. "That's a tall order."

"I heard that too!" Chime barked. "You're all very brave when I'm the one flying."

"Terrified, actually," Wesley said.

"Good!" she shouted back. "Fear means trust!"

No one responded to that.

Outside, the last clouds tore away completely. The true face of Kyrrabad came into view, massive, radiant, endless. The Red Citadel towered at its heart, blood hued and monumental, surrounded by the ghostly skeleton of the older city still half swallowed by ruin. The hangar lights ahead flared into focus as the Bolt Fire leveled its descent, engines smoothing out into a sound almost like relief.

Vaeliyan glanced around at the others, half grinning despite himself. "Alright, everyone heard her. Look sharp. Look happy. And if anyone pukes, make sure it's not on me."

"Noted," Jurpat muttered.

The Bolt Fire dipped again, the engines sighing as it aligned with the glowing ring of the incoming dock.

The Bolt Fire touched down without a whisper. No hum. No rumble. Not even the faintest vibration of landing gear meeting the ground. The only sign that it had landed at all was the subtle change in gravity and the slight sway of the squad in their seats. The quiet was so absolute that it bordered on eerie. If not for the thousands of people waiting beyond the landing field, no one would have known the world's quietest skycraft had even arrived. It was designed for silence, engineered to move like a ghost through the sky, and even in rest, it refused to disturb the air.

Outside, chaos waited. The noise came not from the ship, but from the crowd pressed up against the field barriers. They were shouting, cheering, calling out names and slogans. They had fans, real ones. Some were waving banners bearing the Legion crest, others shouting the names of cadets they had never met. A few had climbed onto security rails to see better, their faces glowing in the light of camera drones that buzzed and darted through the air like metallic insects.

The drones filled the sky in a dizzying swarm, their high-pitched whine piercing the silence around the Bolt Fire. Their lights blinked red, blue, and white, reflecting off the ship's silver hull and scattering into a thousand fragments across the landing field. The hum of their rotors was the only sound the outside world had to offer. Compared to them, the Bolt Fire was a void, a presence that absorbed all noise and refused to give anything back.

Inside, the squad sat frozen. The silence was worse than turbulence. No one spoke for several long seconds.

"Are they still out there?" Lessa asked finally, her voice soft as if she might break the spell.

Jurpat leaned toward the glass, the 360° wall shifting its focus automatically to show the world outside. "Yeah. They're not leaving. Half the city's probably watching this."

Ramis squinted through the haze of drones. "Are they actually cheering for us? Or just waiting for one of us to trip?"

"Probably both," Vaeliyan muttered. He leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his eyes. "Gods, I hate this already."

Lessa straightened. "We should decide how to come out before the ramp opens. One at a time?"

Jurpat frowned. "That'll look uncertain. Like we're scared."

"Then all together," Ramis said. "Ramp down, we step forward as a unit. Simple."

"Or staggered," Wesley added, tapping his knee. "Makes it more cinematic. Gives the drones a better shot."

The discussion went in circles. The longer they debated, the more the tension built, pressing against the quiet until it almost felt like the air would split. Outside, the sound of the crowd grew louder, distant but distinct. The chants carried even through the soundproofing, a muffled wave of excitement beating against the walls.

Finally, Vaeliyan snapped. "Give us a gods damned minute! We don't know what the fuck we're doing!"

The shout bounced off the walls, swallowed almost instantly by the ship's acoustics. It didn't even echo.

Sylen looked up lazily from where she sat with her legs crossed. "They can't hear you."

"I know," Vaeliyan said through his teeth. "But it makes me feel better."

"Fair enough," she said with a shrug. "What's the actual plan?"

Vaeliyan took a breath and looked around at them. The others met his gaze, waiting for him to decide. "We go with what we know. We go with rock formation."

Wesley groaned. "The rock formation? Seriously?"

"Rock formation," Vaeliyan confirmed. "We defend against the world."

Ramis dragged his hand down his face. "Great. Let's go confuse the media and make them think we're about to declare war."

When the ramp finally began to lower, it did so in complete silence. The golden light of the landing field flooded in, glinting off their armor and reflecting from the polished floor beneath their boots. The crowd outside saw the movement first, and the cheers doubled instantly, a roar of excitement so loud it shook the observation towers. Camera drones rushed closer, clustering in clouds like schools of fish.

The squad descended as one. They moved with perfect precision, tight and defensive, each step measured and deliberate. From the outside, they didn't look like a group of soldiers returning from triumph, they looked like a wall of shields braced against a storm.

Elian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, this is ridiculous, but I get it. Most of you have never been in the spotlight before, but maybe we could, I don't know, not look like we're about to get ambushed?"

Xera's finger hovered near her lance's trigger. "What if they attack?"

"They're not going to attack us," Elian said, voice flat with exhaustion. "I told you in the ship. No one's attacking us other than my parents."

Rokhan gestured toward a woman near the front of the crowd. "That one looks hungry. She's definitely going to try and eat me."

"That's because she's a reporter," Elian replied without missing a beat. "Put the lances away, all of you. We're not storming the gates of the hells here. We're doing press."

The squad hesitated. No one wanted to be the first to relax. After a moment, Rokhan groaned and turned back toward the ship. "Fine. But if one of them bites me, I'm quitting."

Roan chuckled. "Sure, you are."

Elian pointed at him. "Get back in the ship, put the lances down, and we'll come out again properly. Like civilized people."

They turned, half laughing, half mortified, moving back up the ramp in silence. Outside, the crowd's roar swelled again as they disappeared from view, the noise so overwhelming it almost felt like sound was crashing against silence itself. Even then, the Bolt Fire remained utterly still, absorbing everything, unbothered, soundless as the void it was built to command.

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