Chapter 1: The Post-Disaster Genius

Before 2012 arrived, no one believed in the apocalypse. However, when spaceships from outer space swept across Earth, causing at least half of humanity to disappear—people began to believe in the once-dismissed prophecy.

Doom had come, and survival or death was the question. Pandora’s box had been opened, and humanity activated nuclear weapons, forcing the invaders to retreat to the Moon. The war—however, was far from over. With their superior aircraft, the alien invaders maintained air supremacy and continued to plunder Earth’s resources. The only balance between Earth and the Moon was a space station that faced the Moon equipped with three nuclear warheads. In a worst-case scenario, these would be used to bombard the alien mothership stationed on the Moon. But once these missiles were launched, they would also have catastrophic effects on Earth.

In the decades that followed, after countless sacrifices and failures—more than a dozen fortress cities were established. The world’s major cities were transformed into airtight fortresses, with biological circulation systems keeping them operational. Although human technology seemed to have advanced by leaps and bounds, it was still far from enough compared to the alien inhabitants of the Moon.

Survivor Geniuses

One day in 2052-Commander Montel of the K11 Air Force Base faced a difficult decision. Above the base, allied forces were engaged in a dogfight with alien aircraft. The allies had only five jets while twelve alien aircraft were pursuing them. Overcoming such odds was impossible, especially since the current jets were still significantly slower than the invaders’ aircraft.

“General Montel! Should we open the entrance and let the allied forces in? They’re on the verge of collapse!” The liaison officer looked at the grim-faced general, nervously awaiting his decision. The command room was silent, with everyone staring at the screen. Within seconds, one of the allied jets was hit and crashed.

“Let them in? If they can’t shake off the invaders, those aircraft will follow them into the fortress, and the situation will spiral out of control. The citizens in the fortress will also be at risk. Do you want me to repeat the tragedy of Fort Sisming two years ago?” General Montel clenched his fist.

Another explosion echoed-and the command room was filled with gasps. Only three allied jets remained now. Their complete annihilation was inevitable and it would happen sooner than expected.

“If they can put enough distance between themselves and the invaders, I’ll let them in.” That was the biggest concession General Montel could make.

The liaison officer relayed the message verbatim to the allied forces. Their response was a single word: “Understood.”
That simple word made everyone in the room lower their heads-hearts aching. Emotions and duty are never fully compatible.

“If our jets could return in time to provide support… maybe they could still be saved.” Montel’s voice was choked with emotion. Office
Behind him, slow, measured footsteps approached, and a calm voice filled the tense footsteps approac atmosphere. “Even if our jets returned-what difference would it make? We are no match for the invaders—we’d just be offering them a few more sitting ducks.”

Indeed, despite the fact that today’s jets were vastly superior to those in 2012, the average loss rate of human aircraft was one-third per sortie. The few who survived were extremely valuable elites, but even they had no idea what fate awaited them on their next mission.
“It’s you, Major General Claude Sean.” Montel looked at the handsome young general and smiled bitterly.

Claude Sean was only twenty-eight years old. He had earned the rank of Major General not because of any powerful backing or his elegant appearance, but because of his intellect and the expert team he led. Two years ago, Claude had earned his third PhD—this time in space physics. That same year, humanity captured its first complete alien aircraft. But the technology it presented, far beyond human imagination, was indecipherable—However, Claude and his team shocked the world with their findings, which increased human jet speed to 80% of that of alien aircraft and improved both defense and attack capabilities. The jet they designed, “Blue Crisis,” was now widely used by air forces around the globe. Claude had been promoted from major to major general, and even admirals treated him with honor.

“Our allies won’t last another minute.” Claude’s lips curved in a slight smile, gentle but with a cruel undertone. No one could refute him, as he was speaking the truth.
Just then, one of the allied jets made a sharp, agile maneuver, a blur of motion. In an instant, two alien aircraft collided with each other, resulting in a massive explosion.

“Whoa—” The command room erupted in gasps, and moments later, someone started clapping. Though doomed to be destroyed, such a brilliant counterattack earned everyone’s admiration.
Claude raised an eyebrow. “Finally, someone who knows how to handle the ‘Blue Crisis’ properly. I’d give that counterattack full marks.”

“Is this really the time for sarcastic remarks? ‘Blue Crisis’ is your design. Don’t you have any ffice ideas on how to help them escape?” Montel, though used to Claude’s cynical attitude found his coldness infuriating at this moment.
“It’s no use.” As soon as the words left his mouth-another allied jet was shot down.
“No…” The command room was filled with frustration. They wanted. to do something to help their comrades but were helpless.

The last surviving jet suddenly spiraled downward toward the ground, pursued by two alien aircraft firing laser-guided missiles-which narrowly missed. Just as the jet was about to crash—it made a sharp 90-degree turn, kicking up a cloud of dust. The pursuing alien aircraft, however, plummeted into the ground as if on a suicide mission.
“Incredible!” The liaison officer stared wide-eyed at the screen, hardly believing what they had just witnessed. “General… can’t we save them?”

“As soon as they lose the alien pursuers, we’ll let them in.” General Montel, now nearing seventy, had survived the apocalypse in 2012. Though impressed by the counterattack, he couldn’t set aside his duty.

“It’s a shame. There are some great pilots among our allies,” Claude said, the smile fading from his face. “But with four alien aircraft left, the odds of survival are slim.”
The last allied jet was still dodging attacks, weaving through the laser fire, with each evasion a hair’s breadth from disaster.

“What’s your name?” Claude asked casually, taking the communicator from the liaison officer.

“Damn it—telling you my name, are you going to send help?” The voice on the other end was young, barely suppressing its anger.
“No. We only have three jets left, and they’ve all been sent to support St. Louis, hundreds of kilometers away.” Office
“Damn!” The remaining jet dodged with incredible agility-darting through the chaos of battle
“Your name,” Claude repeated, calm as ever, as if trying to distract the young pilot.
The pilot, Levi Van Pelt was an incredible talent, taking out multiple enemies with near- impossible maneuvers. Yet with alien forces closing in, his survival seemed uncertain.

“Prepare Alpha Missiles One and Two!” General Montel ordered, and the entire command room was filled with renewed energy.
“Levi! Hang in there!” Even though Levi couldn’t hear him, the communications officer shouted out.

Alpha One was launched-but the alien spacecraft evaded swiftly. It only grazed the left wing of one of the alien crafts. In that brief moment of turbulence, Levi seized the opportunity and took it down with a missile.

As Alpha Two was being loaded-Claude spoke up, “Let me personally calculate the missile launch.”
He sat down at the computer, surprising everyone with his sudden move. They all watched in anticipation-waiting for the outcome.
“What are you trying to do? I’m overheating! I can barely breathe!” Levi’s frustration was clear.

“I want to take out the remaining enemies all at once, with one missile. Can you help me do that?”
“You just want to blow me up with those alien bastards! Fine! Go ahead and try!” With that, Levi’s fighter jet made a sharp S-shaped turn, pushing both his nerves and reflexes to the limit-He shot upwards into the sky, as if abandoning everything, flying straight toward the sun. aight toward t

“Good job!” Claude pressed the button in his hand. As the alien ships were drawn into a straight line by Levi’s “performance, Alpha Two was launched. The explosion seemed to set the sky on fire.
“Oh, my God! Where’s Levi?”
Everyone stood up at that moment, frantically scanning the screen for any sign of Levi.
Could it be that the young pilot was caught in the missile blast?
As the smoke cleared, a single jet cut through the air, tracing a smooth arc as if slicing through. time itself.

“Open the passageway, General. The kid is about to overheat,” Claude said, his lips curving into an elegantly sharp smile.
The passage slowly opened, just wide enough for the jet to squeeze through. Levi’s fighter shot inside, sparking against the track until it slid to a stop at the end of the tunnel.

“Cool it down quickly!” The mechanics sprayed coolant onto the jet’s surface.
The hatch opened, and a young man, drenched in sweat, stumbled out and collapsed onto the ground.

After vomiting-he struggled to breathe, as if something was gripping his throat, preventing his lungs from expanding.

“Calm down! Don’t be afraid!” Someone pressed an oxygen mask to his face while medics rushed over, administering injections.

“He’s been in the overheated cockpit for too long! Start emergency treatment immediately!”
Levi was taken away.

Claude watched from from a a distance as everyone around him worked desperately to save the young man who had barely escaped death.
“I think I’ve found the right candidate,” he muttered.
“What?” General Montel asked with confusion written on his face.
“The right candidate to pilot the ‘Pristine Lady’.”

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Author’s note:

The sci-fi setting here is just a backdrop, and the aliens won’t actually come out of the ships…. just like how they never describe what the insurgents look like in a bomb disposal movie…

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Proofreader/Editor: meowrii