Four days.
That was the uncompromising deadline Gordon had set to get that fleet ready for war.
Four days to overhaul worn-out engines, replace dented armor plating, reprogram transmitters, distribute heavy ammunition, test communication routes, and turn an improvised village of fugitives into a force capable of going head-to-head with the colossus of Gron-Tarh.
For Havelyn, those four days meant only one thing: a chance to return to the sky.
For me, they meant the exhausting daily task of trying not to lose my mind from anxiety.
The next morning, during the meeting, I discovered that Candice had found an extremely effective way to keep me from spending the entire day staring at the horizon and biting my nails.
Work. Lots of work.
"Hold this," Gordon ordered, shoving a misshapen block of metal toward me.
I caught it on pure reflex, muttering a curse under my breath. The damn thing weighed almost as much as a grown adult.
"What is this?" I asked, adjusting the piece against my chest and lifting it with ease.
"A flow regulator."
"For what?"
"Flow," the dwarf replied without even looking at me as he tightened a nut.
I stared at his bald head with what little patience I had left.
"That answered absolutely nothing."
"Then stop asking stupid questions and take the damn thing to ship three already!"
I sighed, swallowed the insult, and started making my way through the hangar.
The southern workshop had turned into a genuine industrial hell.
Three light patrol ships occupied the center of the facility, suspended on hydraulic platforms while dozens of mechanics worked on their hulls at the same time.
Bright welding sparks fell like rain around the metal frames; open engines and grease-covered gears littered the floor, while thick power cables crossed the upper walkways.
In every corner, someone was either shouting an order or cursing at an assistant.
"DON'T TURN THAT SHIT ON YET!" a mechanic roared from the back of the hangar.
An engine coughed loudly.
A second later, a sharp explosion shook the floor, and thick black smoke began spiraling toward the ceiling.
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO TURN IT ON, FUCK!"
Gordon didn't even bother turning around.
He walked past me with a screwdriver between his teeth, grumbling to himself.
"Does that happen often?" I asked, following his steps.
"More often than I'd like."
I kept walking down the main corridor until a massive shadow fell over me.
I looked up and saw a metal structure weighing several tons slowly rising from the floor, completely detached from any crane.
A few meters away, Tsukumo stood still with one hand raised in a subtle gesture.
The colossal piece floated in front of him as though it were nothing more than a dry leaf caught in the wind.
Three mechanics surrounded the floating block, gesturing frantically.
"More to the left! A little more!"
The piece slid smoothly through the air.
"Now lower it! Slowly!"
Tsukumo moved two fingers downward.
The block descended millimeter by millimeter until it settled over the engine opening with a perfect click.
The three mechanics froze, staring first at the perfectly aligned piece, then at Tsukumo, who brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve.
"Can you do that with anything?" one of the men asked, mouth hanging open.
"As long as I can perceive its mass," Tsukumo replied in the most neutral tone imaginable.
The mechanic pointed toward a mountain of dismantled engines in the corner of the workshop.
"If Gordon finds out about this, you're going to be stuck here forever."
Tsukumo narrowed his eyes slightly.
"I fear not."
I passed by them carrying my flow regulator and couldn't resist.
"Found yourself a new job already?"
"At least I'm being useful, unlike certain individuals," he shot back without losing his composure.
"Go fuck yourself."
I looked at the pile of dismantled, disorganized engines in the corner of the workshop, stretched out my arm, and the wind obeyed me. I lifted them one by one and arranged them side by side according to size.
"You're not the only one," I said.
One of the mechanics burst out laughing.
Before I could respond, Gordon appeared behind me like an enraged ghost and jabbed a finger into my back.
"Nakamura!"
I stopped immediately.
"What?"
"Ship three is on the other side, you animal!"
I looked at the marking painted on the wall directly in front of me.
I had been walking in exactly the opposite direction.
"...I knew that."
"Of course you did," the dwarf mocked.
I turned around with a huff while Gordon stared at Tsukumo with a mixture of fascination and disgust.
"How the hell did the two of you make it to this planet alive?"
"Persistence," Tsukumo replied.
"Where I'm from, that's called luck," Gordon corrected immediately.
The first day passed almost entirely inside that sweltering hangar.
It didn't take long for me to discover that I understood absolutely nothing about interstellar engines, and for Gordon to discover that he should never let me touch anything with exposed wiring.
After I caused a short circuit and a shower of sparks while trying to connect two incompatible plugs, he violently snatched the tool out of my hand.
"That's enough. Done. You're done."
"I can learn!" I protested.
The dwarf pointed the wrench at my nose.
"Five minutes ago, you asked me if the thermal coolant tank was where they stored the crew's drinking water!"
"It looked like a water reservoir!"
"Stay away from the electrical systems."
"Then what do you want me to do here?"
He turned and pointed toward a pile of heavy reinforced armor plates in the corner.
"Carry things. You people are tough, so obviously you've got endless stamina."
I stared at the mountain of metal.
Tsukumo passed behind us with three enormous plates floating through the air, guiding them effortlessly.
I hated every second of this, but I had to admit it gave me an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for home, back when my father used to yell at me for not knowing the name of some tool.
Miss you, Dad.
I sprang to my feet. The streaks of my wind transformation raced through my veins, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the lightness it gave me.
I opened and closed my hands, shut my eyes, and took a deep breath.
"How could I forget this?" I muttered to myself.
I stretched out my arm and lifted every armor plate at once.
By midafternoon, I took advantage of an opening to leave the hangar and pick up rations from the supply sector.
On the way back, I found Candice, Sahger, and Havelyn gathered in an open area near the eastern wall, where the rocky ground had been cleared into a straight track nearly a hundred meters long.
Havelyn wasn't wearing her heavy coat.
Clean bandages covered part of her chest and the bases of her wings. Her left wing was fully extended, displaying neat, dark feathers.
Her right wing, however, was no longer pinned against her body for the first time since our escape from the Tower.
It remained half-open, visibly trembling against the cold wind.
Candice stood directly behind her.
"More," she ordered, her voice firm.
Havelyn clenched her teeth.
Her right wing creaked, opening a few more centimeters before locking in place. Her features twisted in pain.
"Stop."
Candice placed her cold metal hand against the injured joint.
"Pain?"
"A little."
"'A little' needs to become none," Candice shot back.
Havelyn gave her a murderous glare.
Sahger stood a few meters ahead, motionless as a statue, his arms crossed over his armored chest.
"Open it again."
Havelyn turned toward him, exasperated.
"I just opened it!"
"And you're going to open it again."
"You manage to be just as pleasant as that four-armed doctor."
"The doctor is nicer than I am," Sahger replied without blinking.
Candice let out a short laugh.
Havelyn took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to gather her strength.
Gradually, both wings began to unfold.
The left opened smoothly and majestically; the right moved in jerks, slow and trembling, causing every muscle in Havelyn's back to tighten.
She managed to reach nearly half of her normal range before letting out a muffled groan and stopping.
"That's enough," Candice declared.
Havelyn immediately relaxed her shoulders.
The injured wing dropped heavily, but Candice caught it by the outer structure before its weight could force the damaged joint toward the ground.
"Don't force the joint past its limit," Candice warned.
"I need to be ready in four days!"
"And you will be. But not if you break it again today."
"You two talk like my body is obligated to obey whatever you want."
"It is," Candice said.
"Your blood channels were severely damaged, which kept your divine blood from circulating properly."
"That was locking up and slowing down your natural regeneration."
Havelyn turned toward her.
"Yeah, the doctor told me the same thing."
"Then it's only a matter of time. Until then, we're going to force that regeneration along."
I leaned against a supply crate and watched in silence until Havelyn noticed me.
"Aren't you supposed to be working in the hangar?" she asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.
"I'm on a strategic break."
Candice looked at my hands, filthy with grease and soot.
"Has Gordon already given up on letting you touch the engines?"
"No."
"I'm essential to the assembly," I said, telling an enormous lie.
A distant explosion echoed from inside the southern hangar, immediately followed by Gordon's furious shouting rolling across the valley.
Candice raised an eyebrow at me.
"Sounds like your assembly work is going wonderfully."
"That definitely wasn't me," I defended myself immediately.
Havelyn gave a small smile.
Seeing that, even for only a second, eased some of the weight in my chest.
Without saying anything else, I adjusted the crate in my arms and headed back into the chaos of the hangar.
On the second day, I woke from my meditation before dawn to the deafening roar of engines.
It wasn't just one vehicle being tested.
Dozens of thrusters were running at the same time, making the metal floor of the quarters vibrate continuously.
When I stepped into the courtyard, I found three transport ships hovering several meters above the outer platforms while teams of mechanics tested their exhaust systems.
Jets of bluish plasma cut through the air, throwing up clouds of dust and forcing everyone nearby to cover their faces.
In the middle of the chaos, Gordon ran back and forth holding an electronic clipboard in one hand and a wrench in the other.
"Engine two is fluctuating, you idiot!" the dwarf shouted at a young assistant.
"I know!"
"Fuel pressure dropped four percent!"
"I ALREADY KNOW!"
"And the stabilizer—"
"IF YOU TELL ME ONE MORE THING, I'M THROWING YOU INTO THE EXHAUST!" the young man shouted.
"Good morning, Gordon."
The dwarf didn't even bother looking up from the clipboard.
"Don't touch anything."
Tsukumo emerged from the other side of the ship.
To my surprise, he had taken off his long coat.
Coming from him, that was basically the equivalent of declaring a state of emergency.
I could see a few fascinated looks from the girls directed at the physique of the God of Strength's son.
"I need your gravity over here, aristocrat," Gordon called.
Tsukumo approached with his usual calm stride.
"How may I assist?"
The dwarf pointed at the suspended vehicle.
"I'm going to fire the left lateral thruster at full power."
"And?"
"If the restraining cable fails, I want you to stop this pile of junk from going through the hangar wall."
"Be ready."
Gordon pulled a lever on the control panel.
The side thruster roared violently, making the ship shake in the air.
A second later, a sharp crack rang out, and one of the reinforced steel chains holding the vehicle snapped, whipping through the air.
"SHIT!" Gordon shouted.
The vehicle tilted dangerously to the left, threatening to crash into the side structure.
Several mechanics ran away in panic.
Tsukumo simply stepped forward and opened his palm.
The ship stopped in the air instantly.
Frozen in space two meters above the ground, while the engine continued roaring and spewing blue flames into empty air.
Gordon looked at the motionless vehicle, then at Tsukumo.
"I really like you."
I spent the rest of the morning helping replace armor plates along the lower hull.
Bolts, impact wrenches, and heavy sheets of metal were things I could handle.
There was no electrical wiring involved, which meant zero risk of explosions, according to Gordon.
Early that afternoon, Gordon sent me to carry crates of heavy ammunition to the eastern depot.
That was when I passed the training field again and saw Havelyn.
This time, she was in constant motion.
Candice had used her ice to create a long, narrow track over the uneven terrain.
Havelyn ran along it, building speed so the wind would force her wings open.
Sahger ran beside her, matching her pace.
"Open!" the hunter ordered.
Havelyn spread her wings while running.
The left opened perfectly, but the right locked at two-thirds of its range.
The uneven airflow made her body tilt violently to one side. Her left foot slipped on the ice, and she lost control.
Before she could crash badly onto her injured shoulder, Candice slammed her mechanical hand against the ground, raising a low, slanted barrier of ice.
Havelyn hit the soft wall sideways and slid until she stopped.
"Shit!" Havelyn shouted, punching the artificial snow.
Sahger stopped beside her without showing the slightest reaction.
"Again."
She looked at him as though she wanted to decapitate him on the spot.
Candice approached, studying her posture.
"You're trying to compensate for the lack of mobility in your right wing by tilting your left shoulder while you run."
"If you lean, the wind is going to knock you down every time."
"My body does it on its own! I can't control it!"
Candice raised her own left arm, making the articulated metal plates click.
"My body did exactly the same thing when I lost my original arm."
"For months, I carried everything on my right side, slept tilted, walked crooked, fought off balance."
"My brain simply decided the left side didn't exist anymore before I even learned how to control this prosthetic."
She knocked her metal knuckles against her chest.
"If you let your body learn the wrong movement now, it'll take years to correct it later."
I went back to carrying the ammunition crates.
When I looked back one last time before turning into the corridor between the containers, Havelyn was already running down the ice track again.
This time, both wings opened far more symmetrically against the wind.
By the third day, the village of fugitives no longer looked like a temporary settlement.
It had become a military camp.
Ammunition crates had replaced the wooden benches around the central square.
Energy weapons were dismantled, cleaned, and calibrated on improvised workbenches out in the open.
Resistance pilots studied holographic simulations of escape routes on portable terminals, while dozens of combat drones stood in perfectly aligned rows for system checks.
Even the local merchants had closed their stalls and turned their stockrooms into military supply depots.
No one needed to ask what was happening.
Tsukumo and I spent the entire morning working on the largest ship in the settlement: an old industrial freighter that had been modified into a heavy combat platform.
It was an ugly, squat structure covered in salvaged armor plating from at least five different models.
Gordon lay on his back beneath an open panel, half his body inside the engine.
Tsukumo, who was holding a secondary turbine suspended a few centimeters from its mounting point with his gravity, spoke.
"The lower support structure is misaligned by approximately four millimeters."
Gordon came out from under the panel so quickly that he slammed his head hard against an iron bar.
Tsukumo pointed with precision.
Gordon brought one eye close to the mounting point and unleashed an impressive string of curses in the dwarven language.
"Son of a giant... bitch."
He shouted for two mechanics, and we spent the next hour forcing the metal frame until the alignment was corrected.
When they finished tightening the last bolts, Gordon looked at Tsukumo with reluctant respect.
I was finishing the installation of a side plate when a shout from outside cut through the noise of the hangar.
"SHE'S FLYING!"
At once, the sound of tools hitting the floor echoed throughout the workshop.
Gordon snapped his head up. Tsukumo released a few pieces, which continued floating gently in the air, and all of us ran for the exit.
Half the village was already in the streets, pointing toward the sky.
When I reached the center of the square, I looked up and saw Havelyn in the air.
Her black wings beat rhythmically against the cold wind; the left strong and steady, the right slightly hesitant, but still carrying the weight of her body.
She wobbled in the air, lost a little altitude, beat her wings harder, and climbed a few more meters.
A radiant, genuine smile spread across her face.
It wasn't the exhausted smile of someone trying to look strong, nor the restrained expression she used to hide the pain.
It was pure relief.
Havelyn tried to make a wide turn to the left.
Her right wing took a fraction of a second longer to respond, and her body lost its axis, sending her into freefall.
"Havelyn!" I shouted, stepping forward.
Before I could do anything, a smooth ramp of ice rose from the ground.
Havelyn hit the frozen surface and slid several meters before sinking into a soft pile of snow Candice created at the last second.
Candice lowered her mechanical hand, keeping her voice firm.
"Could be better."
Havelyn lifted her face from the snow, her hair a mess and her eyes shining.
"Finally! I'm coming back!" she shouted, her voice breaking from the effort.
Candice tried to maintain her severe, disciplined expression and failed miserably.
A proud smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
Sahger approached the pile of snow.
Still lying there, Havelyn spread her arms.
"Did you see?"
"I did."
"And?"
The hunter stared at her for two full seconds.
"Again."
The smile vanished from her face immediately.
"Is that the only word you know, you bastard?!"
"It's worked perfectly so far," he replied, unmoved.
Havelyn scooped up a giant snowball and hurled it at his chest with all her strength.
The snow exploded against the armored plate of Sahger's suit, covering the metal in white.
The hunter simply looked down at the mark on his chest without moving.
Candice burst out laughing.
Havelyn spread her enormous wings, ran a few steps across the courtyard, beat them once, twice... and rose into the sky again.
On the second attempt, she stayed in the air for an impressive amount of time.
By the third, she didn't want to come down.
When her feet finally touched the ground, her legs were visibly trembling from accumulated exhaustion, but she landed firmly, still standing.
Deafening applause erupted around her.
Havelyn froze in place, surprised.
She looked around and realized that hundreds of people had stopped what they were doing to watch her: mechanics, soldiers, pilots, children, and fugitives.
People who might not even know her name, yet had celebrated every second she remained in the air.
She slowly lowered her head.
For a moment, I thought the emotion might make her cry, but she didn't.
She simply lifted her chin and spread her black wings to their full span before the crowd.
After all, Havelyn was a noble.
I couldn't forget that.
Maybe she was already used to all of this.
The sky still carried the same sickly gray hue as always, and the monstrous silhouette of Gron-Tarh remained hidden behind the wall of artificial storms on the horizon.
Everything was ready.
Combat ships filled the outer platforms. Some were small and agile; others were massive modified cargo platforms.
Every one of them was armed to the teeth, reinforced with armor plating, and fully fueled.
Pilots performed final checks on their control panels, fighters inspected their weapons, and medical teams organized emergency supplies.
Gordon walked between the vehicles, inspecting every bolt with the paranoia of an overprotective father.
"Engine four?" he shouted.
"Stable!" a technician answered.
"Thermal systems?"
"Operational!"
"Transmitters and frequencies?"
"Synced!"
He stopped directly in front of me and crossed his arms.
"You."
"Me."
"Today, you are not touching a single thing of value in this village."
"And I deeply appreciate your work," he said.
"But today, you and Tsukumo are going to stand still."
"Why?"
"Because tomorrow you'll have the chance to blow up the largest fortress in this galaxy, and I don't want you getting an early start by destroying my base first."
I left the two of them behind and walked toward the eastern sector.
High above, Havelyn was already flying.
This time, there were no ice tracks, no Candice, and no Sahger.
Just her in the sky.
Her black wings cut through the air with strength and precision.
With every deep beat, currents of dust rose from the ground below.
She made a sharp turn, dove at high speed, skimmed over the roofs of the containers, and climbed again in a spiral.
Havelyn began her final descent for landing.
For a second, it looked like she was moving too fast, but at the last moment she spread her wings completely, creating a powerful aerodynamic brake.
The air exploded beneath her feathers, and she touched down softly, raising only a small cloud of dust.
She remained standing there, motionless, breathing deeply.
I watched it all in silence, simply taking it in.
Late that afternoon, the entire resistance force was summoned to the central square.
The crowd was too large to fit in the courtyard alone.
People occupied metal walkways, container rooftops, stairs, and elevated platforms.
Candice climbed onto a massive crate of heavy ammunition.
There were no microphones, but her voice carried across the valley with remarkable clarity.
"Tomorrow, we're attacking Gron-Tarh."
"Some of you have waited months for this moment," Candice continued, her gaze sweeping over the crowd.
"Others have waited years. And some of you have spent half your lives dreaming about it."
"I've waited twenty years."
"I'm not going to stand up here and lie to you," she said with raw honesty.
"There is no guarantee of victory."
"There is no guarantee that we'll come home."
"And I'm not going to give you some beautiful speech pretending everyone will make it out of this operation alive just so I can sound inspiring."
Some people lowered their heads.
Others lifted their chins with even greater determination.
"Gron-Tarh is bigger than us," she admitted.
"They have more weapons, more soldiers, more resources, more money, and more technology."
"But they don't have one thing."
She paused and pointed toward the hundreds of people around her.
"The feelings every one of you carries."
"Every feeling of loss, rage, agony, sadness—everything! That's going to be our greatest fuel."
A powerful murmur began spreading through the crowd.
"Tomorrow, each of you will receive your individual orders," Candice concluded, raising her mechanical arm.
"Do your part... and we're going to give that damned fortress the worst day in its entire history!"
A colossal roar erupted across the square.
Hundreds of voices shouted together. Fists and weapons rose into the air, and the sound of metal striking metal echoed throughout the ravine.
I looked at Tsukumo beside me.
He stood with his arms crossed, observing the commotion.
"Quite noisy," he commented.
"You haven't seen anything yet," I replied.
"I imagine not."
Sahger stood farther ahead with his helmet under one arm, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains.
Havelyn remained beside Candice, her black wings folded and ready for battle.
Night fell quickly over the planet.
One by one, the village lights were shut down according to security protocol.
The workshops went dark, the corridors emptied, and the windows of the living quarters were sealed.
The entire settlement gradually sank into shadow.
Outside, the deep rumble of engines idling at minimum output made the rocky ground tremble beneath my feet.
I climbed alone to the top of the village, the same place where I had spent my first night there.
Gron-Tarh was still there, enormous, black, and untouched on the horizon.
Artificial lightning split the sky around its towers, and searchlights continuously swept across the clouds.
Just as it had always been.
But this would be the last night everything inside it continued as normal.
The soft sound of wings cutting through the air announced Havelyn's arrival.
She landed on the metal railing beside me without stumbling.
"Flawless landing," I commented without looking back.
"I practiced a lot for that," she replied, straightening her posture.
She moved beside me and stared at the distant fortress.
The cold night wind howled through the gaps in the metal.
Havelyn opened her wings slightly to feel the breeze.
I took a deep breath, feeling the icy air burn my lungs.
My heart pounded against my chest.
The anxiety and anger that had disappeared for four days were coming back all at once.
I sat down up there, ready to begin another meditation.
"Get some sleep, Havelyn. We've got a big day tomorrow."
Havelyn, already knowing what I was about to do, simply sat beside me and stayed there.
"I'm not the one who hasn't slept in days," she replied.
I activated my earth transformation, dark green spreading through my body.
"It's fine."
I closed my eyes and began.
Not much time passed before I felt Havelyn's weight against my shoulder.
She had fallen asleep.
I didn't want to wake her, so I left her there while I meditated.
I looked at the fortress in the darkness one last time.
Tomorrow, Gron-Tarh will fall.