A conflict of unparalleled proportions has overtaken the world.

  From the rich golden shores of the Solar Dominion, to the harsh icy peaks of the Treviet Union, beyond the towering jungle cities of Umaja Republic, and spanning the mystic flying isles of the Nagarashi Shogunate, the ever-creeping tendrils of war spread across the world leaving few untouched by its trail of chaos and despair.

  The massive scale of industry has clashed with the wonders of magic in a deadly union that has changed the world forever.

  Long gone are the days of gallant knights charging forth clad in enchanted armor or wizened wizards spending decades mastering spells and incantations. Now powerful magic can be mass produced in the thousands, loaded into a simple handheld slugger and fired in a matter of seconds.

  This is the age of the Mage Soldier.

  This is the Second Arcane War.

  And it is on the western continent of Skyfell where an age-old rivalry between north and south has once again reached its breaking point.

  From the snowy northern mountains march the vast hordes of the Treviet Union.

  Its countless mage soldiers descend upon the south like an endless wave. Bolstered by vicious monsters, and led by powerful Channelers who subject their bodies to unpredictable magics—they seek to plunder the lands of the south just as their raider ancestors did long ago.

  Rebuilt stronger than ever after its defeat in the First Arcane War, its new ruler—the Frost Empress Annaliese Romanova—commands her subjects with a frozen fist. Unsatisfied with her rule over her already vast domain, she intends to succeed where her predecessor failed, and bring the south to heel.

  It is only through the courage of the brave Mage Soldiers of the Solaran Dominion that the rich, sun-swept lands of the south are protected from their advancing enemies.

  Through courage, training, and superior magical engineering, Solar’s mage soldiers push back the invaders from the north. For the Solaran Dominion is not merely a nation of people, but a nation of soldiers, where all men and women work toward the common good of their homeland's safety and prosperity.

  Led by Supreme General Santiago Fernando and his High Command, every citizen is considered a soldier in the efficient military complex that is the Dominion, with each patriotic member ready to do whatever is necessary for the safety and prosperity of their nation.

  But alas, there are times when even the courage and skill of Solar’s Mage Soldiers are not enough. When the enemies of the Dominion employ insidious tactics, twisted magics, and dark schemes beyond what the standard Mage Soldier can be expected to handle.

  It is in these dire moments that the true champions of Solar rise to meet the challenge—the Aces!

  Aces are not mere mage soldiers; they are heroes.

  This coveted title is bestowed upon the rarest of individuals—men and women—who have proven themselves to be far beyond ordinary, both in arcane prowess and in fighting spirit.

  Masters of their craft and unparalleled practitioners of magic, Aces possess the ability to turn the tide of the most dire of battles.

  Their strength, unrivaled.

  Their skills, unmatched.

  Their courage, unwavering.

  Soldiers without equal, they are symbols of hope and pride. Children grow up dreaming of donning their winged insignia, while adults see them as paragons of what every citizen strives to be.

  Whether motivated by the promise of renown or a selfless desire to serve, nearly every Solaran has, at one point, imagined joining the hallowed ranks of these elite heroes.

  Yet no discussion of Aces would be complete without the mention of the hero himself—a man who has countless times stood alone to save the Dominion: Captain Dalten Vearez, the legendary Silver Fox.

  For it was he who saved the lives of countless noncombatants trapped in the Siege of Stone Valley, as they miraculously held out against impossible odds.

  And it was he who saved the Solaran army from certain defeat at the Battle of the Scorched Plateau, in a sudden surprise maneuver.

  And it was he who after being lost behind enemy lines, escaped capture to face the Dread General Volten himself and ushered in an end to the First Arcane War.

  The foremost master of light magic, and perhaps the strongest Mage Soldier to ever exist. The Silver Fox is a true hero—one who has defied the impossible time and time again.

  But that was two decades ago, and a new war rages.

  Now a General, the Silver Fox is needed away from the front to command our armies. Now more than ever the Dominion needs new heroes to rise up and take on the mantle of Ace, and champion the nation to a brighter tomorrow.

  For even the Silver Fox himself was once a man from humble beginnings who rose to the occasion in a time of need. When the time comes again, any young Solaran soldier can step up and prove themselves to be the next great Ace.

  This was the dream that Damian had strived for.

  For as long as he could remember, he wanted to become an Ace—to prove that he had what it took to be a hero.

  Just like his father.

  Just like the Silver Fox.

  Unfortunately for Damian, the situation he found himself in currently was far from heroic.

  Because for the moment, Damian sat cowering in a dirty trench, desperately clutching his slugger close to his chest as slugs tore through the air overhead, snapping like a whip as they struck the dirt around him. While every few seconds, a shattering boom shook the trench walls, showering him with dirt.

  As Damian looked around, he saw that his squadmates were doing no better. Most stayed huddled in the safety of the trench with fear in their eyes, too afraid to look out and risk being engulfed by the chaos up above.

  The few that dared attempt to pop their head up above to return fire quickly retreated back down or were blasted back into the dirt.

  They were in dire straits, and Damian knew if nothing was done soon, defeat was inevitable.

  Yet for all the danger, this was his chance—the perfect moment of desperation to prove he could turn the tides and show he had what it took to be an Ace.

  With a deep, steadying breath, he locked away his fear and rose to his feet. He carefully crept up the trench, as he peeked over the parapet to get a better look at what they were facing.

  Across the field was a row of soldiers. Sluggers up as they sprayed at the trench line with a suppressing barrage of slugs, steadily advancing closer with each passing moment. But it wasn’t the soldiers Damian was most worried about, it was the massive flaming beast being paraded behind them.

  From Damian’s vantage, the beast looked more like a moving inferno than a creature, towering two stories tall with flames cascading up its frame.

  Its eyes blazed like twin furnaces, cutting through the swirling flames that crowned its monstrous head. Long curved horns poked out of its flaming skull, and its arms ended in jagged clawed hands, both searing bright like molten iron. While every step it took with its bulky hind legs landed with a crash leaving large blackened and charred footprints in its wake.

  Whatever slugs the disorganized defense managed to fire dissipated as it impacted with the intense flames around it.

  And it returned every bit of aggression back tenfold—opening its scorching, toothy maw to launch boulder-sized fireballs that exploded on impact, tearing massive chunks out of the ground around the trench.

  Damian wracked his brain for a clue, searching for advice his father might have given him.

  But he quickly remembered how evasive his dad always became whenever the subject of actual combat arose.

  Left without answers, his thoughts turned instead to the legends—like the Battle of Windsgate Narrows, where the Silver Fox had thwarted a column of nearly unstoppable Juggernauts by exploiting a critical design flaw.

  But he could barely make out any details clinging to cover, and the very moment he attempted to pick his head up any further he was confronted with a fireball lobbed straight in his direction, forcing him to dive back down onto the floor of the trench, where he was once again barraged with another dusting of trench dirt.

  Damian realized there was no way to act from the safety of the trench. If he was going to find a weakness, he needed to get around the beast and find a new vantage point. But moving in the open was far too dangerous.

  Then, an idea struck him—or at least half of one anyway—and that would have to be enough for now.

  Gripping his slugger tightly, he began making his way down the trench.

  Under normal circumstances, finding anyone amidst the ear-shattering explosions and chaos would be impossible. Fortunately for Damian, the person he sought was predictable enough, he simply had to know where to look.

  Lo and behold, there he was—Leon Danero—positioned as far from the fight as possible, hiding behind the sturdiest wall available and doing his best to ignore the chaos around him.

  Leon was a boy the same age as Damian with a family name almost as notable—though the two couldn’t be more different.

  Here was a boy whose uniform was spotless, his glossy, carefully styled hair peeking out from beneath his helmet. A stark contrast to Damian’s disheveled, battle-worn appearance.

  Where Damian’s father had instilled in him that respect was something to be earned, Leon—like many from so-called prestigious families—believed respect was tied to one's rank, or more precisely the rank of one's parents.

  And that motivation would make Damian’s request all the more challenging.

  “Leon, quick. Come with me, I need your help!” Damian shouted, trying to jolt the boy into action.

  Leon looked up, his skepticism obvious. “You want what?”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “I need your help,” Damian repeated, more firmly this time. “I have a plan, and I need you to help me pull it off.”

  “And the Captain told you to come get me?” Leon asked, raising a brow.

  “Well… no,” Damian admitted, his voice faltering before quickly regaining confidence. “But we’re going to lose this thing if we don’t do something!”

  He had hoped Leon might jump at the chance in the heat of the moment, but deep down, he should have known better.

  Leon snorted. “Oh no! No way! I am not getting mixed up in another one of your… ordeals.”

  “Come on. I know we can take that thing on–”

  Leon cut him off, “And where exactly is the captain? Shouldn’t he be the one coming up with the plans?”

  Damian paused, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Uh… last I saw, he was smoking and getting blasted over my trench.”

  “I knew it! I knew this would happen!” Leon loudly complained. “The moment my name was chosen for this void-damned squad I knew it was hopeless.”

  “We can still beat that thing. If my father was here he would—”

  “You aren’t your father. We all know that.”

  He sat down even firmer, and crossed his arms in defiance.

  “No. If we don’t have any orders I’m keeping my butt right here. Nice and safe behind this friendly wall.”

  “And what, wait here for that thing to come over here and burn you to a crisp? What kind of plan is that?”

  “Surrender is a plan. And it’s probably far less likely to end with me getting my eyebrows seared off than going with you, surprisingly enough.”

  Damian knew he should have expected this, his reputation wasn't the greatest these days, but he also knew the reputation Leon was known for too, a “Danero always had a price,” was a common saying when Leon’s family was concerned and he was no different. And Damian still had a trump card to play—although he loathed using it.

  “If you help me, I’ll introduce you to my Dad!” Damian winced as he spit out the words.

  At this, Leon’s ears perked up. No one from a socialite family like the Daneros could resist the chance to rub shoulders with the Silver Fox. He would probably brag about it for years.

  Leon thought for a moment, drawing out a suspenseful, “Hmmmm…” before finally breaking. “Fine. Fine! But if things start going downhill, I’m running the other way.”

  “It won’t! Trust me, it’ll work,” Damian said, waving Leon to follow. Leon let out an exaggerated groan but begrudgingly followed.

  They came to the very edge of the trench line. Before them just an open field. Although a short run away was a line of forested trees and shrubs that ran along the length of the battlefield. Enough to give them some semblance of cover from the oncoming fire.

  “Can you get us across there,” Damian asked, as he pointed to the trees in the distance.

  Leon’s face twisted in disbelief. “Why in the world do you want to go out in the open? To make us an even easier target?”

  “Because nothing is going to change if we just sit here. Besides, if anyone has a cartridge that could keep us from getting hurt, it would be you.”

  “I don’t like what you are implying.” Leon scoffed, “But yeah, I think I have something that might work, and I wouldn’t mind getting further from here.”

  With that, Leon reached down into the pouch at his waist. Out of it he pulled a square metal cartridge with several blue runes emblazoned on its side. He then inserted it into the slot at the bottom of the metal base of the slugger. Then he lifted it up and aimed out in the direction they intended to go.

  Leon focused intensely as if remembering an equation in his head. As he did, the gem on its side began to glow bright, before projecting out a brilliant circular pattern of runic symbols. Damian could recognize a few, such as the sign for water and protection. Though before he could read more, the symbols quickly shrunk back into the gem, as a notable hum signaled the spell was ready.

  “Ok, when I fire I’m going—so you better keep up.” Leon instructed.

  Leon pulled the trigger. A sharp clap echoed from the weapon as a blue slug shot outward, but it didn’t travel far. Just a few feet from the barrel, the slug seemed to collide with an invisible wall. The impact scattered its light across the unseen surface, which shimmered briefly before shifting into a flowing stream of clear blue water.

  The water splashed outward, spreading and settling midair as though filling an invisible mold. Within seconds, the liquid fully solidified, forming a large, man-sized kite shield that glistened in the sunlight.

  “Go!” Leon shouted as the two sprinted forward.

  The shield floated alongside them, perfectly matching their pace as they ran.

  For a few heart-pounding moments, nothing happened as they sprinted at full speed. Then it hit. Slugger bolts began raining down around them. Most shots missed, but those that struck the shield disintegrated on impact, leaving behind wisps of steam.

  Before long, they made it to the tree line and dove into the undergrowth, collapsing behind the cover of the foliage. For a moment, they stayed there as they collected themselves.

  “Okay, now what is this plan of yours?” Leon asked.

  “I just need to check something,” Damian said, picking himself up and jogging along the cover.

  “What do you mean you ‘have to see’? You said you had a plan!” Leon shouted, hurrying after him.

  “I do… I just have to see if it will work,” Damian replied, his tone distracted.

  Leon was about to protest, but Damian quickly shushed him and pushed him into a crouch.

  The beast and its escort were about to pass them now, and they could even feel the heat coming off it, despite it still being some distance away.

  They stayed silent, barely daring to move. Only once the group had safely passed did they exhale in quiet relief.

  “Look!” Damian whispered, as he pointed towards the rear of the beast. “See how the flames are all coming out of the same area in the back?”

  Damian pointed, and just as he said, Leon could see the flames flowing out from a singular point on its rear.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “If that is wreathing magic, then it actually needs to project from a certain point.”

  “Yeah, so? If it’s projecting from anywhere, it’s the front, right? That’s where it’s probably the strongest.”

  “But that’s fire magic. Air actually has to get into that thing. I bet it's projecting from the back, so they can still funnel air through. They wouldn’t be able to control the magic precisely enough to create a funnel and keep up the intensity in the same spot. Meaning the projection point in the would be the weakest spot. I bet I can get a shot in from there.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you’re too sure,” Leon said, looking at Damian incredulously. “Besides, we can’t even try that from here. There’s no clear shot.”

  “Over there,” Damian pointed to a jagged pile of boulders and rocks behind the advancing party. “That's the perfect cover. Those cracks are narrow enough that no one could hit a target shooting through them.”

  “Well, I’m not going out there,” Leon said flatly.

  “No one asked you to,” Damian shot back. “I just need cover again.”

  Leon shook his head. “Damian, that’s thirty yards out. My shield doesn’t reach that far—it barely goes fifteen.”

  “That’s enough,” Damian said, locking eyes with him. “I’ll make it work.”

  “Make it work? That’s your plan? Run across an open field and hope you don’t get blasted to pieces?” Leon shot back.

  “What do you care? You get to stay here in the trees while I do the hard part.”

  “Fine, your funeral,” Leon relented with a roll of his eyes. Once again bringing up his slugger as the crystal started to glow blue. “Just tell me when, I guess.”

  Damian steadied himself, dropping into a ready position.

  He took a deep breath, savoring it as if it might be his last.

  His eyes zeroed in on the target, his resolve solidified.

  “Now!” Damian shouted as he took off before even waiting for the shot to go off.

  Just like before, the familiar clap of Leon’s slugger rang out, summoning the watery shield that raced beside Damian. It deflected the incoming bolts, shielding him as he dashed forward just like before.

  But unlike last time, the shield came to an abrupt halt after just a few seconds. Damian’s stomach dropped as he realized he was exposed. Bolts zipped past him, and with no other option, he began weaving erratically, hoping his unpredictable movements would keep him alive.

  In truth, Leon was right—Damian had no plan.

  But he did have courage, and that’s what truly made a hero, wasn’t it?

  A hero was someone brave enough to do what it took to make a difference.

  To save the day.

  So as Damian charged headlong through the chaos, he couldn’t help but let a wild grin break across his face. Slugs zipped past him, chaos erupting all around, but he felt a strange clarity and sense of purpose with every step. He was scared—of course he was—but that fear only drove him harder.

  In that exhilarating moment, he felt it—

  that he truly had what it took to be what he was destined to be,

  A true hero, just like his dad.

  When Damian finally reached his target and dove behind the rocks, he could hardly believe it himself that he managed to make it. He let out a relieved chuckle, before reminding himself that he still had more to do.

  He collected himself, shaking off the odd euphoria, as he quickly got back up to his knees and scampered towards a slit in the rocks. One just small enough to stick his slugger through and aim. Luckily, the beast hadn’t noticed him, its focus was still fixed on the trenches ahead.

  Its escorts, however, were less oblivious.

  Bolts struck the rocks in front of him with sharp, snapping cracks. Still, the narrow gap in the rocks left Damian nearly untouchable—hitting him would take nothing short of a miracle.

  Damian raised his slugger and peered through the sights, focusing past the volley of slugs flying his way, to the rear of the beast. There it was—a spot untouched by flames. Within, he could just make out a vaguely human form. That was his target.

  Damian focused on his slugger.

  He had one shot to get this right.

  He didn’t need anything fancy—just one clean shot.

  One chance to bring the beast down.

  It is said magic draws its power from one’s spirit, and Damian poured every ounce of his into this moment. His focus, his determination, all were channeled into a single shot.

  The slugger’s crystal flared to life, pulsing with a sharp silver glow.

  Then it wavered—

  shining bright one moment,

  dimming the next,

  then flaring up once again.

  Damian didn’t notice. He didn’t want to notice. He just focused more and more on his target as the crystal became more and more erratic.

  And then he pulled the trigger—

  But nothing came out.

  He pulled it once more.

  But still nothing.

  Then the crystal began to wildly blink and give an uncomfortable whine, as Damian finally looked and realized what was about to happen next.

  “Oh, not again…”

  A deafening crack suddenly split the air, and the crystal shattered in a blinding flash of light. Force hit Damian’s chest like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from him as he was hurled backward. Sparks Shot up, and a plume of shifting colors exploded in every direction like malfunctioning fireworks. A vibrant rainbow plume rose into the air, catching the attention of all around.

  The battle came to a halt—momentarily forgotten as all turned to face the chaotic, dazzling display.

  Then a sharp whistle cut through the air.

  Suddenly, everything ended.

  Sluggers were lowered, and all signs of aggression or animosity vanished.

  The advancing combatants escorting the beast stopped their advance just steps away from the trenches. And out of them, teenagers covered in dirt and soot began to climb out, looking utterly defeated.

  A stern-looking woman in crisp officer’s garb and cap with polished black boots stormed onto the field. She waved her arm sharply as she barked commands, demanding all to halt.

  The flames of the large beast began to die down, its massive, imposing form shrinking with every flicker until the last ember vanished.

  In its place stood just a tough-looking girl with long amber hair, surrounded by scorched grass. A glare firmly fixed in Damian’s direction, an irritated scowl etched across her face.

  And Damian lay sprawled on his back, soot-covered and groaning. Coughing up a puff of smoke, and showed no intention of getting up anytime soon.

  As the ringing in his ears began to die down, the sound of footsteps in the grass drew his attention, and soon the sunny sky was eclipsed by Leon’s smug face as he looked down at Damian and mocked.

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you, hero,” Leon said, his voice dripping with mockery, before striding off and leaving Damian to his shame.

  Once again, Damian was faced with a bitter, undeniable truth.

  Despite attending two full years at Providencia Officer’s Academy—

  Despite being the son of the legendary Silver Fox—

  Despite training and studying over and over again—

  Damian was completely and utterly terrible at magic.