3

The moment I stepped into the conference room, the princess and the king were waiting—armed guards standing stiffly on either side.

The princess waved at me with a light flick of her hand. The king sat in his chair, sipping tea. His face looked worn.

I dropped to my knees right away, but the king waved me down—then the meeting began without delay.

Still, all we had to do was confirm the official order and double-check the mission details.

It’s just me going in. To keep things fast and light, I’ll be using a carrier bomb for movement. That means Orell and the others can’t come along—so it’s a solo job, plain and simple.

Well, the plan’s just to fire a single Alumirulay at the target and pull back—should be enough, really.

Just in case, I’ll have the rest of the squad meet me at the nearby base. But we’ll only link up after the mission’s done.

Eld, I’m counting on you to shine.

I’ll show ‘em just how worthy I am—just you wait.

When the king left the meeting room early, most of the guards in the room disappeared too.

The tension had faded from the room, so I brought the offered teacup to my lips.

"Ah, Your Majesty seems busy today."

That’s right. I’ve already started moving on the postwar cleanup—plus, the damage from the past battles hasn’t been fully settled yet. Just recently, the reports from the Gamma Line defense line finally came together. I’ve been pushing hard to get things out as soon as possible after that, but the war’s gone on so long that we can’t even tell clearly where or who’s died. Units are getting reorganized on the spot, by local commanders, which only makes things worse. Now, families aren’t getting notified, belongings aren’t being sent, condolence payments aren’t arriving—complaints are starting to pile up from all sides. The King and the ministers are working their hardest, but even so, during wartime, there’s always something else that needs to come first.

The princess says, there’s a mountain of things that need tending to—securing supplies, reorganizing units, keeping the front lines stable.

“Can’t be helped, now. Honoring the dead matters, sure—but if we ignore the living, what’s the point?”

“If everyone understood that, it’d be easier. Still, when family’s gone, people get… well, emotional. The ones who trouble my brother most are those types.”

“Yeah. Can’t give special treatment just because they’re yelling at you.”

The queen’s got another meeting today—another noble who lost a son in this war.

You can see the weight in her. The tiredness.

“Once the war with the Empire ends, we’ll pull back the minimal force we need, and then the reports on damage… well, they’ll start coming in clearer. So, Eld, I’m counting on you.”

"Yeah, I’ll make sure it succeeds."

"Then let’s go over the details of this plan, shall we?"

Reading through the documents, the princess and I go over the specifics—though it’s less about the plan itself and more about the timeline.

"Operation starts in three days. It’s a bit tight on the completion of the unit, but we can’t shift it—there’s politics with the Empire involved. We could push it earlier, sure..."

...but that’d probably get me skewered by Miss Caline.

"Eight o’clock sharp, we begin. Eld, you’ll board the unit and fly it using the carrier bomb to reach the designated point."

"How do you handle the carrier bomb’s operation?"

"This time, it’s not training—it’s a test pilot. The same one we’ve been testing with will be flying it."

So I don’t need to handle the carrier bomb’s controls myself. Then I can just sit back in the cockpit and wait for arrival, nice and easy.

"Operation starts at eight, launch of the carrier bomb at ten. Flight time, an hour and a half, as planned."

"Arrival at eleven-thirty, then. Sun position shouldn’t be an issue, I suppose."

"Choosing the time when Alumirulay will hit hardest. The launch point’s already been figured out by the researchers, all set for that."

"Understood."

Since Alumirulay relies on sunlight, we’ve got to factor in the sun’s angle and the day’s weather conditions. Seems like they’ve already got all that covered.

"Weather’s supposed to be clear over that area for a week—no worries on that front."

"Good to know. The capital’s forecast’s been off more than once, though."

No satellite photos here. Weather forecasts are mostly guesswork—just watching the wind and clouds, relying on past experience. Even the forecasters in the capital only get it right about seventy percent of the time. And that’s just for tomorrow.

So how on earth do they know what the weather’s like three days from now at a specific spot?

“Apparently that area’s mostly desert, so it’s easier to predict. Plus, they’ve included reports from merchants who travel through there—so it’s got a bit more credibility. Anyway, it’s well known that it doesn’t rain there this time of year.”

“Ah, I see.”

If it rained often, it wouldn’t be a desert to begin with.

“Anyway, back to the plan. Arrive at the designated point at eleven-thirty. Detach from the carrier bomb, then Eld’s on his own. Immediately move to the launch site and activate Alumiru Rey. Launch as soon as preparations are complete.”

“What if the enemy moves?”

Leave it to Eld—prioritize destroying the refining facility. No need to hunt down the mercenaries.

Well, if they’ve got the fuel taken from them, the mercenaries probably can’t put up much of a fight.

Then refuel from the backup tank. Move along the coastline on your own and meet up with the team at the rendezvous point. Should probably be around five o’clock or so.

We’ll probably need to walk a bit, so we should probably get some food ready too.

Keep extra water on hand—just in case. That place is a desert, after all.

Yes, that’s right.

I jot down what I need to remember, right inside my head.

How’re we supposed to handle the pilot of the career bomb? It only carries enough fuel for one way, doesn’t it?

The career bomb itself will be jettisoned over the sea. The pilot’ll parachute to a nearby isle and wait there—our ship’ll pick them up later. Food and supplies for that are already on the way.

"Hmm."

Then I don’t need to worry about that. I can just focus on destroying the refining facility.

"Like this. If you’ve got something to discuss, please do so by tomorrow. There are limits to what we can prepare."

"Understood."

One of the attendants steps closer to the princess, whispering in her ear.

"Is it that time already? Eld, I’ve got someone else I need to meet after this. Sorry."

"No, I’ve got the gist of it now."

"Good. Then I’ll leave the rest to you."

"Yes."

The princess exits, and all her attendants vanish with her.

Alone in the room, I go over the documents again.

The preparations moved at breakneck speed. By sheer will, we managed to get everything ready by the day of the operation—despite the mechanics and technicians collapsing from exhaustion, and even the senseboard coders dropping like stones.

In the corner of the hangar where the unit was stored, mechanics lay like corpses. Technicians slumped over their desks, smoke curling from their ears and mouths.

Only Orell and Pamira seemed to still have life in them. I’ve never seen those two look tired. Are they even human?

Karine looks worn, sure—but not as bad as the rest. She’s still in the cockpit, making last-minute adjustments, barely holding on.

It’s seven fifty-five. Five minutes until the operation starts.

“Captain, you’ve got the controls burned into your head, right?”

“Don’t worry. Honestly, it’s almost like riding Pespilarge.”

Well, yeah. Just be careful—the left arm’s feeling like it did back in the day. The weight’s auto-corrected over here, but it’s got limits, you know.

Yeah, I’ve got the weight ratios down from the test maneuvers.

Artifigoj’s weight felt strange after so long, but my body remembers better than I thought.

Surprisingly smooth, getting back into the old rhythm. If anything, the newer senseboard and the machine’s upgrades make it easier to handle than ever before.

That’s right. Final maintenance done. Eld, I’m handing it over to you.

You’ve got it.

A quick high-five, and Karine steps down from the machine. As usual, Ange peeks in with her bag.

“Eld-kun, here you go.”

“Thanks.”

Inside the bag: food and water. There’s already a water barrel behind the seat, but this is something extra—lunchbox and a canteen for the road.

Can’t drink from a water barrel if you’ve got no flask, now can you?

Good luck.

Ah, I’ll finish this fight and then call Father and the others to the capital. We didn’t have much time to enjoy the wedding day, so we’ll make it proper this time.

Yeah!

A light kiss—then the wail of a siren from outside.

Time to start the operation.

Everyone to your stations! Operation Solar Down is a go!

If I’d called out to everyone in the hangar through the mic, even the mechanics turned to corpses would’ve mustered their last strength to stand up.

Even in the rush, I fired up the machine’s generator.

Pespilarge is coming. Keep your feet ready.

I signal a warning, heading toward the launch site where the career bomb’s been set.

At the launch site, preparations were already set—carrier bombs stood with their bellies wide open, waiting.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

“No, no—just got the hatch open, actually.”

I’m bantering with the pilot, sliding the craft into the carrier bomb like it’s some kind of game.

“Lock confirmed. Closing hatch.”

The carrier bomb’s hatch seals shut. Darkness swallows us whole, save for a faint glow here and there.

I switch the craft’s generator to standby, keep fuel use low, and scan the surroundings through the monitor.

“Nine o’clock…”

Launch in an hour.

All the while, the preparations keep ticking forward, steady as a heartbeat. I wait—quiet, patient.

Then, right at ten.

“Launching carrier bomb.”

“Go ahead.”

*Thud.* The booster ignites. A hard push against my bones.

Rising. Leveling out, slow and sure.

“Wish you a good trip—hour and a half, mind you.”

“Just gonna nap. Wake me up when it’s time.”

“Copy.”

I let my eyelids fall shut, the vibration humming through the seat as I drifted off to sleep.

Next time preview

Light pouring down

Starting next week, I’ll be increasing the update speed from weekly on Tuesdays until the ending.

The amount of text might grow to between four and five thousand, but please bear with me.