10 Descent Initiated

"……You again."

"It's a misunderstanding, Yuriya! I didn't oversleep!"

From the shared cabin of the cruiser *Al*, hurried voices echoed—Yuriya and May.

"Then what was it?"

"I woke up once, but then fell back asleep."

"Fine, just get ready already!"

"Understood!"

May’s usual routine.

Yuriya, hands on hips, watches her with quiet envy—her familiar demeanor, unshaken.

For Yuriya, who had struggled to sleep last night, tense and restless.

"So it's really today…"

Eight hours since arrival at Planet Merse.

Maintenance cadets’ practical training—specifically, the orbit package upgrade on Leopard—has concluded.

Now it's the pilot cadets’ turn.

Orbital descent exercise.

"Landmass covers one to two tenths of the surface. Descent target: equator, longitude 17 degrees 5 minutes..."

Muttering the scheduled exercises to come, rehearsing them in silence.

Danger had always been present during previous training sessions.

But descent training was exceptional.

A single error during atmospheric entry will burn the craft to ash.

That is death.

Simulator training had been repeated many times, but this was the first live operation.

Tension also arises.

That is precisely why.

Good, let's go, Yuriya. What's for breakfast today?

Eat properly. This might be your last meal.

I've decided to make my final meal a grander affair.

The familiar presence of her ever-reliable friend filled Yuriya with genuine envy—and quiet admiration.

The thought comes that things might be manageable if she were here.

He heads toward the mess hall to take his meal.

The cube rations will last for a while now.

For the ten days from here onward, they will eat food acquired on the surface.

—Could it just be my imagination?

A dish more than usual for breakfast.

It felt almost like the final meal—no, the final breakfast—spoken by Yuria herself, and that made it slightly unpleasant.

“Commencing descent drill. All personnel, assemble at designated points following the descent sequence. If you misjudge the entry angle and land elsewhere, activate your beacon and await rescue.”

Jin relayed the descent precautions.

He too felt his pulse quicken internally.

After all, this descent drill. Once every few years, one or two trainees fail.

Especially the second-years experiencing it for the first time. Causes vary, but the root is usually pilot error—failure to recover from unforeseen circumstances in time.

“Beginning descent from fourth-years. All personnel, board your units. Await further orders.”

Without betraying any tension, Jin pushed the trainees toward their craft.

He confirmed all personnel aboard, then murmured quietly.

“Honestly… it’d be easier if I handled it myself.”

He disliked situations beyond his control.

Praying felt unnatural to him.

One by one, the Leopards launched.

Vehicles enlarged by orbital packages. The craft packed into the cruiser *Al* were expelled in sequence, and the hangar emptied in moments.

“Come back safely…”

Jin wondered if he was overthinking.

But—

“Something’s off. I have a bad feeling.”

A prickling, vague unease.

A dread that something terrible would happen.

As if coming to this planet, Merce, had been a mistake—

“Overthinking again.”

He chuckled faintly, then boarded his own Raven.

Same orbital package as the others.

He descended after the trainees, required to assume command of the expedition camp.

Instructors, including his mentor, awaited aboard boarding shuttles.

After all designated descent units had launched.

Orbital descent would commence.

Four-year students with extensive experience descending first.

From the chest of the orbital package, a valute—a cushion-like object inflated with air—deployed.

The valute enveloped the entire frame, shielding it from heat and preventing heating caused by compressive stress.

It also served as critical equipment by standardizing air resistance, wrapping the irregularly shaped assault frame.

Without the valute, the assault frame could not descend properly.

The atmosphere would otherwise disrupt the frame’s trajectory.

The second-year units deploy and descend in succession.

Their movements are unbroken.

Third-years follow without incident.

"Next. Second-years. Begin descent!"

At Jin's command.

The second-year Leopards plunge into the atmosphere.

"Alright, here we go."

"Understood, Yuriya."

"Ugh, so boring."

May and Kou begin their descent following Yuriya's lead.

Yuriya hesitates for a moment, then descends without delay.

Altitude decreases.

Gravity pulls from beneath.

The undeniable sensation of falling—instinctive fear rises.

"It's fine. It's fine. It's fine..."

Deploy the valute below seven thousand meters.

Repeat the mantra, eyes fixed on the instruments.

Ten thousand.

The number diminishes in an instant.

Nine thousand.

Current velocity: 7 km/s. Less than two minutes to descend one thousand kilometers.

Eight thousand.

The number feels like her own lifespan—Yuria’s chest tightens.

Seven thousand.

"Deploy the valute!"

She yanks the lever up in one motion.

The valute mounted on the chest-mounted unit snaps open simultaneously—yet.

『Yuria! What are you doing! The valute isn’t deployed!』

"I know!"

Kou and May’s units deploy their valutes and decelerate.

Yuria’s unit remains closed. It continues descending—through the atmosphere, deeper still.

"The valute’s caught…!"

The valute is fabric. Folded, it must expand by filling with air.

But if it never unfolds, there is nothing to do.

The folding was flawed. The cause remains unclear. Regardless, Yuria’s valute fails to open.

"Yuria!"

"I'm fine! Descending while decelerating with the leg thrusters!"

The leg thrusters, designed to maintain orbit, could still resist planetary gravity.

Thus, Yuria had not yet feared the outcome.

"Reorienting craft. Supplying ether to leg thrusters..."

Thrusters ignite.

The craft begins decelerating.

"Altitude 6,000..."

Just as relief flickered through her.

A small.

Truly minute sound.

A fragment no larger than a fingertip.

A piece peeled from the surface years ago—how many, no one recalls—when the Queen first settled on this planet.

It had orbited at high speed, now struck Yuria's craft and pierced through.

"Anomaly detected in ether supply line... Right leg thruster failure!?"

The thruster's light extinguishes.

The sudden loss of thrust disrupted the craft’s moment, spinning the Leopard into a violent spiral.

“Ah…”

No time to think.

The violently wrenched craft had lost its orbital trajectory entirely.

The angle of descent was no longer viable; the thrusters occasionally facing upward now accelerated the craft toward the ground.

It must be corrected.

But how?

What should be done?

Uria could not comprehend it in her panic.

Only one thing was certain: she was falling.

“H-help…”

The word was swallowed.

Impossible. To rescue her from her deviation would require the other’s life in exchange.

She could not say such a thing.

She could never ask someone to die for her—no matter how much she might scream.

Altitude: five thousand.

Correct the craft’s orientation.

But… it was already beyond help.

One thruster pod was insufficient to halt this descent speed.

With two, perhaps a hard landing—crash landing—might be possible.

Half a pod meant only a crash.

The assault frame lacked the absurd defensive capability to survive impact at this velocity.

Time remaining: twenty minutes.

That was all Yuriya had left.

"Hey, May... can you hear me?"

Realizing it was too late, Yuriya grew calm in turn.

She opened her mouth, determined to say what she needed to say in the time left.

"Those eighteen months with you... I had fun. Honestly, I feel like I was nothing but a burden... I feel like I was... but I really had fun."

She tried to sound convincing, but couldn't.

Because she truly had been a burden. How many times had she made you wait?

But it had been fun. Remembering now, it brought tears to her eyes.

"Sasamori, don’t push yourself too hard. You’re the one most likely to die soon—worrisome."

She hesitated, unsure what else to say. What did it matter now, if this was the end? Julia thought.

"Seems like you’ve been getting along with May lately. Don’t make her cry, though. If you do, I’ll curse you in her dreams. And… perhaps it’d be nice if you remembered me sometimes."

That was all.

That was all—.

If she tried, she could think of a thousand more things to say.

Words for her parents.

Words for those who’d helped her.

Only nineteen minutes left. Ah. Surely she wouldn’t finish.

"I don’t want to die… "

Julia murmured that most ordinary of truths.