The Fall

“The Pristine Lady isn’t special because, as long as I have enough resources—I can build another one. But you are irreplaceable. If we lose you—everything else is in vain.”
The sound of cannon fire roared above—shaking the air with each explosion. Despite the chaos, Claude’s voice remained calm—as if he was merely stating a fact.
“Hah… don’t say that—you’ll make me proud.” Levi found himself always uneasy when Claude got serious. It was as if Claude’s gaze could freeze the entire space, rendering Levi motionless.
“Please, have a little more patience.”
Before Claude could step closer, Levi turned sharply.
“I’ll go find my old fighter. I can wait until the Pristine Lady reaches its peak, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop fighting.” Levi paused. “You know, I can only fulfill my dream when those alien pigs disappear from our sight for good, and we no longer live in fortress cities where we can’t even see the sky.”
“Your dream?” Claude gave a small smile. “I thought your dream was to woo every woman at Base K11.”
“My dream is to swim in the sea one day.” With that, Levi left Claude’s sight.
The battle had already reached a critical stage, with many fighters returning for repairs. Levi arrived at the hangar where his old fighter, Blue Crisis, was stationed. He pressed the button, and within ten seconds—he heard the sound of the ground crew and mechanics rushing over.
Cosley looked surprised to see Levi. “Why are you here, kid?”
“Isn’t this my fighter?” Levi pointed at Blue Crisis behind him.
“I thought you’d be flying the Pristine Lady from now on!”
“Then why keep it in such good shape? Looks like all its weapons are loaded—just missing some oxygen.”
“I was just waiting for you to get famous. This fighter’s going to be a collector’s item—Levi Van Pelt’s old fighter before piloting the Pristine Lady!” Cosley joked with Levi as he efficiently prepped the fighter for battle.
“Cosley, you knew I’d need it again one day.” Levi opened the cockpit and climbed in.
The system started confirming equipment and oxygen levels. Three seconds later—Levi’s Blue Crisis shot out from the hangar, heading straight into the chaos of the aerial battle.

Its speed couldn’t compare to the Pristine Lady—so Levi had to rely on his skills and complex flight paths to dodge the enemy and look for opportunities to strike.
It was a massive dogfight. Ridiculously, K11 and St. Louis had sent out 50 fighters—but they were being played with by only a dozen enemy craft.
Yet, amid the chaos—Levi could instantly spot Leslie. His exceptional flying skills were hard to imitate. Passing through enemy fire—Levi flew alongside Leslie.
“Hey, Leslie.” Levi felt a rush of excitement—curious to see how effective it would be if they worked together.
“Hey, snot-nose.” Leslie’s voice always had a cold edge—but Levi could sense a hint of emotion behind it.
Levi performed a wide loop, leaving the pursuing enemy craft for Leslie to handle. Flying in parallel, they fired their missiles in tandem. Their differing angles forced the enemy into the trajectory of the other missile. The explosion was music to their ears.
“Why aren’t you flying the Pristine Lady?” Leslie nimbly dodged a stray bullet.
“So I can be on equal footing with you.” Levi chuckled. “Getting chased by the enemy like this is annoying. How about we take the offensive?”
“Alright.” Leslie veered towards one of the more heavily armed enemy fighters.
Levi spiraled behind him—constantly disrupting the enemy as they launched into a dazzling impromptu performance.

In the command room—Lieutenant General Montel watched the screen and couldn’t help but ask, “Who are the pilots of those two fighters?”
“Levi Van Pelt and Leslie LeClerc.”
“Levi? Isn’t he supposed to be flying the Pristine Lady?” General Montel frowned just as hurried footsteps approached from behind.
“That idiot actually took off! Can’t he sit still for one second?” Miller’s pale face was flushed with anger—his clenched fists trembling from anxiety. On the screen—Levi and Leslie performed a crisscross maneuver, firing missiles in a split-second window. The slightest mistake would have resulted in Levi being blown up by Leslie’s missile.
“What do they think they’re doing—” Miller was on the verge of losing it.
General Montel, however, chuckled quietly. “Right now, they’re the most perfectly synchronized duo among all the K11 and St. Louis fighters.”
“But Levi should know that he’s special! Even without the Pristine Lady—he can’t just take off in the Blue Crisis! The Blue Crisis only flies at 90% of the enemy’s speed! A single slip-up…”
Miller’s rant was cut off by Montel.
“Young man, I think Lieutenant Van Pelt has a great sense of responsibility. That responsibility comes from remembering that he is a fighter pilot. No matter what kind of fighter he’s flying, he has the courage to face his enemies. That is where his value lies—not in what kind of fighter he can pilot.” Even as Montel spoke—Levi and Leslie downed another enemy fighter.
The entire command room was filled with gasps of admiration. Yet, every moment that followed left Miller in a state of dread.
“That guy isn’t driven by a sense of responsibility as a pilot… he’s just someone who loves taking risks,” Miller muttered.

Meanwhile, in Z-Zone—Claude continued to adjust the system data. Suddenly, a loud explosion above startled all the researchers—causing them to instinctively look up.
“A fighter must have crashed on top of the fortress. Don’t worry, keep working,” Claude calmly instructed.
Morris handed him a cup of coffee. “There’s no need to hide your concern by staying busy. The situation outside is chaotic.”
“If you truly didn’t want me to worry—you wouldn’t have told me the situation outside was chaotic.” Claude didn’t reach for the coffee and instead walked to another area—clearly not in the mood to engage further with Morris.
But Morris followed him—placing his arm over Claude’s shoulder. “Why don’t you realize that our fighters are being chased by the invaders precisely because Levi jumped in and disrupted everything?”
“Everyone is focused on the Pristine Lady right now. Please direct your attention to the system settings as well, Lieutenant Colonel Morris.”
“I’m not even sure if Levi will survive this mess. If he dies—you’ll need to find another pilot, and the system will need to be recalibrated. All my efforts will be wasted. So, let’s just wait for the kid to return, and I’ll give it my best then. Doing useless work isn’t my style.” Morris glanced around the overly serious environment—clearly feeling out of place, and left with his coffee.

At this moment—Levi was fully immersed in a kind of thrill he had never experienced before. It was nothing like the flashy yet impractical tactics taught at flight school, where you had to consider formations and timing. Now, he didn’t even need to communicate with Leslie—Leslie could fully understand his actions without a word.
Soon, only six or seven alien aircraft remained out of the original dozen.
“A good pilot can determine the outcome of an aerial battle.” This was a phrase one of Levi’s flight school professors often repeated. Although Levi had never paid much attention to it—at this moment, he had to agree.
Just as K11 and St. Louis were quietly celebrating their impending victory, a low humming filled the air—the unmistakable sound of a large group of aircraft flying at high speed.
The command room quickly detected the reinforcements.
“Lieutenant General Montel, the enemy’s reinforcements have arrived, totaling…” The communication officer turned to the general behind him, his expression shifting from initial excitement to grave seriousness. “There are twenty-two of them.”
A heavy silence fell over the entire command room.
“Order all fighters to return immediately. No resource or mineral is more valuable than our pilots,” General Montel said—gripping his cane. “We will not make unnecessary sacrifices.”
The order was given, and all fighters began their full-speed retreat.
“Sigh, outnumbered, huh? Time to head home, Leslie!” Levi whistled, but all he got in response was Leslie’s disdainful snort.
The fighters in the sky streaked like meteors across the night—all docking stations opened, and the estimated return time was twelve seconds.
But within those twelve seconds, just as an enemy aircraft was about to regroup with its reinforcements—it suddenly fired a missile. It shot between two friendly fighters—heading straight for Leslie.
“Watch out—” Levi’s mind went blank. The attack was so sudden that Leslie, unprepared, could only try to dodge with his sharpest reflexes, but…
Just as Leslie’s eyes widened, expecting to be hit—Levi’s fighter blocked the missile’s path.
The explosion echoed—sending shockwaves through the air. Leslie spun around just in time to see Levi’s fighter with a broken wing plummeting toward the ground. In that brief moment, two enemy aircraft swooped in—hoping to finish him off.
Leslie quickly engaged the two enemy fighters, drawing their fire away.
All Blue Crisis fighters were equipped with emergency pods. The moment a fighter was critically hit— the system automatically activated the pod, forming a sealed capsule. Upon hitting the ground—it would cushion the fall, able to withstand temperatures of up to 2,000–3,000 degrees Celsius. However, the oxygen supply could only last for twenty minutes.

Levi’s heart sank as he felt himself enclosed in the sealed pod in less than a second. He had only experienced this in flight school simulations. In reality, though, once the pod activated—it often meant death. Few battles ended within twenty minutes with enough of an advantage for one’s side to return and rescue the pilot. Especially today—Levi had been hit during a retreat.

——————————————————–

Proofreader/Editor: meowrii