The Aces Are Here

  To say that Ignacio had lived a privileged life would be an understatement.

  Born the eldest son of a family of renowned military leaders—in a nation that idolized just such figures—he was naturally destined for greatness. He had every advantage: a strong body, striking good looks, and most importantly, an innate talent for magic. It was as if the world had been handed to him on a silver platter from the moment he drew his first breath.

  Ignacio himself never really stopped to question why this was.

  To him, he was the best because he had these things, and he had these things because he was the best.

  Simple as that. There was no reason to overthink it.

  It was true—he was, what one might call—a tad bit arrogant.

  But who wouldn’t be, after living a life as fortunate as Ignacio’s?

  Still, he was never mean or cruel—at least, not intentionally. After all, hatred required either fear or envy, and Ignacio had never felt either.

  After all, he already had everything he could want. And it's not like anyone was an equal in magical power. At Least none he ever met.

  Truth was, there was only one thing he truly wanted—to become the greatest champion Solar had ever seen. And no amount of money or influence could buy that. But even then, it felt like only a matter of time. Because once everyone saw how awesome he was, well…it would be inevitable.

  So, there was no doubt that he would one day become an Ace. Just as he would one day be the next Hero of Solar. Then, probably a High General. And maybe—even the next Supreme General of all of Solar.

  And he believed that completely.

  It was a philosophy reaffirmed throughout his childhood, as he received the lion’s share of his parents’ attention. It proved true once again when he entered Provedencia, quickly becoming the most popular student in his class. And it was cemented by the way nearly every girl he met fawned over him with barely a glance.

  But then one day, everything changed when he came face to face with the Silver Fox.

  It wasn’t as if Ignacio hadn’t met Dalten plenty of times before. After all, his father and Dalten were good friends. To Ignacio, he was like an uncle. The kind who showed up during the holidays to entertain the kids with magic tricks.

  He would conjure up small illusions of animals and monsters, making the children laugh and scream in delight. To Ignacio, that was all he was—fun old Uncle Dalten.

  So when he learned that this simple man was apparently the greatest mage soldier in the world, he had never truly grasped what that meant. If that was what the "greatest" looked like, then surely it would be child’s play to surpass him .

  So, when the teachers had the bright idea to bring the great Silver Fox to the academy and let him show off in front of the cadets.

  Ignacio saw it as the perfect opportunity—not just to see what the supposed pinnacle of a mage soldier looked like, but to prove to everyone else how easily he could surpass the legend himself. Because, after he gave a couple of boring lectures and demonstrations, they would allow a few cadets to test their strength against him in a one-on-one spar.

  And Ignacio had already decided he would defeat the Silver Fox then and there so no one would ever doubt his greatness again.

  Or at least… that was what was supposed to happen.

  Instead, he made him look like a chump. He couldn’t even touch him.

  It was as if the Silver Fox was inside his head, predicting his every move before he even made it. Every time Ignacio thought he had him cornered, Dalten would slip away in the blink of an eye.

  In the midst of that spar, Ignacio didn’t feel like the best. He felt like a child again—chasing shadows and being fooled by tricks and illusions. And it maddened him.

  The more he threw himself at him, the more he began to notice something—the way the Silver Fox fought. The way he handled a slinger with such effortless precision. The way he always planned one step ahead.

  Everything he did carried a sense of years of practice and experience, and Ignacio had never had to work hard for anything in his life. The very concept was foreign to him. Even if he suddenly took training seriously, he couldn’t see himself ever reaching that level of skill.

  That day, Ignacio realized the truth—he would never be as great as the Silver Fox.

  What followed was a dark period for Ignacio—or at least, as dark as things could get for someone like him.

  He became moody, restless, and even more reckless than usual. He started acting out, getting into fights, and for the first time in his life, he was even—dare I say—a bit cruel to those around him.

  Because who was he if he wasn’t the best?

  Second best?

  No! If he couldn’t be the best, then nothing else mattered. He might as well be the worst.

  But his dark phase of teenage angst and lashing out didn’t last long. Because a couple of months later, he had an epiphany.

  His father had just gotten a brand-new, sleek magicar. A hot red beast, with an engine that growled like a tiger. Just his style. But what caught Ignacio’s interest most wasn’t how it looked—it was the fact that it was supposedly the fastest magicar ever built.

  And what determines how great a car is, if not how quickly it moves forward? That was its entire purpose, after all.

  So, in the mood he was in, Ignacio figured that if he couldn’t be the greatest, he could at least drive the greatest.

  Even if he was too young… or had even technically never driven a magicar before.

  But as he was blazing down the country road, pushed back into his seat, the world streaking past him in a blur, the thought suddenly popped into his head.

  If he was driving the fastest magicar in the world and pushing it to its limits, then right now—at this very moment—he must be the fastest person alive.

  Even the great Silver Fox had probably never gone this fast. This machine was brand new, and he was an old man.

  And for a sweet, fleeting moment, the thrill of being the best surged through him once more.

  And that’s when it hit him.

  Well—the ground and several fences hit him.

  But during his extended hospital stay, he had a lot of time to think. And in that time, he realized something.

  He didn’t need to be like the Silver Fox at all.

  He just had to be the best in a completely new way.

  As soon as he was healthy enough to return to the academy, Ignacio went looking for that small, nerdy kid in his class—the one everyone made fun of for constantly staying on his own and tinkering with his gadgets.

  Because if he was going to be the best at something completely new—something not even the Silver Fox could replicate—then it only made sense that he needed a new inventor to create it.

  So off to recruit his help he went.

  “I need you to build me something!” Ignacio declared loudly, barging into the empty classroom without a shred of subtlety.

  Lucas nearly fell out of his chair as he was abruptly interrupted from working on his latest gadget.

  “Wha—! Who are you? What are you talking about? …Wait, aren’t you that General’s kid everyone is always talking about?” asked the spectacled boy, his expression shifting between confusion and annoyance.

  But Ignacio ignored that. No one could possibly be annoyed to see him.

  “Of course, I’m Ignacio Dominique, and you’re going to help me become the next great Ace!”

  The boy blinked. Then, unimpressed, he leaned back in his chair.

  “O…kay, sure, Mr. Ace. And tell me exactly why I should waste even a second working on some trivial idea you just came up with? Let me guess—you want a really big slugger? Or maybe a slugger tied to another slugger? Something stupid like that?”

  “No, no—well, maybe. But first, if I’m going to be the best mage soldier ever, I naturally need the best gear. And that’s what you want, right? You’re an inventor, so you want to create the greatest inventions, don’t you?”

  “That’s not—” Lucas blinked, momentarily dumbfounded by the eager boy’s oversimplification. He sighed and continued, as if explaining to a child.

  “I make inventions to do things that haven’t been done. They’re meant to fill roles that need to be filled—things that actually have practical uses.”

  “Well, I need this! And you need me.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need you?”

  How could anyone ask such a question? It was absurd—but if Lucas wanted examples, Ignacio could play along.

  “I can keep bullies away. No one would dare mess with you if I’m around.”

  “The last person who tried to mess with me got 20,000 volts through his system,” Lucas said flatly. “Bullies don’t bother me.”

  Ignacio paused, regrouping. “Well, what about money—”

  “Pass,” Lucas interrupted. “I make plenty selling my old prototypes. I don’t even have time to use it all.”

  Ignacio was stumped. One of those usually worked.

  “Well… what if I help you test your inventions? After all, what good are all these things you make if you don’t have anyone to test them on?”

  Now that caught Lucas’s attention.

  For a while, he had been perfectly content tinkering alone in his room or the classroom, but there was only so much he could field-test on his own. Willing participants had been in short supply ever since his experiments gained a reputation for sending volunteers straight to the medics’ office.

  So, for a moment, he considered humoring the overeager Ignacio.

  “Okay, let’s say for a moment I entertain this. What exactly do you want?”

  Ignacio didn’t hesitate. With complete confidence, he stated his desire bluntly:

  “I want to go fast!”

  That day was the start of a beautiful partnership.

  Lucas’s concept was simple: concentrate Ignacio’s natural fire magic and use it to propel him as fast as possible.

  Their first attempt involved modifying two old sluggers they had stolen from the academy supply shed. The results were… predictable. The weapons spat fire and burned things well enough, but getting enough raw power to actually lift a man proved far more difficult, along with not setting Ignacio’s boots on fire.

  But they kept at it. Before long, they managed to gather better parts and a bit of scrap to fashion protective metal boots.

  Now, at last, they had enough thrust—but a new problem emerged. Holding onto a slugger with the force of a rocket wasn’t exactly practical. Once they upped the power, the sheer force threatened to rip Ignacio’s arms clean off.

  So, back to the drawing board they went.

  Eventually, Lucas managed to rig up a metal frame—a system of steel bars and locking hinges running along Ignacio’s arms and legs, designed to distribute the force and keep his body from being torn apart by the rocketing sluggers.

  It was stiff. It was clunky. It wasn’t easy to move in.

  But for the first time, Ignacio lifted off the ground—

  For about three seconds, before Ignacio lost control and slammed straight back into the ground.

  The medics patched him up quick enough, but most people would have called it quits after breaking a few bones. Not Ignacio. That was a small price to pay for his future greatness.

  But if they were going to keep experimenting without the academy shutting them down, they needed a way to handle accidents—at least until Ignacio could actually control the damn thing without injuring himself.

  That’s when he met Elera.

  Rumor had it that she was just as good a medic as any of the nurses in the academy’s medical office. But, Getting her on board wasn’t easy.

  Ignacio didn’t even like her when they first met. Or rather, she didn’t like him—which, in turn, meant he didn’t like her. After all, everyone should like him.

  She wasn’t like the usual academy girls, the ones whose knees went weak with a simple compliment and smile. She didn’t even bother to give him the time of day. In fact, it was as if she was trying to avoid him or something, which is ridiculous.

  She even turned him down at first—hardly even bothering to hear him out. Just a firm, “No.” Then she left.

  It took several attempts before Ignacio finally managed to get a few words in without her immediately walking away. Unfortunately, when she did stop, it was only to start shouting.

  “What!? Why won’t you just leave me alone!?” Elera snapped, spinning around to face him, arms crossed in frustration.

  Ignacio held up his hands in mock surrender. “But you won’t even hear what I have to ask you?”

  She huffed. “Fine! Then what is it?”

  “I just need you to come with me to—”

  “No!” She cut him off before he could finish, her glare sharpening. “I’m not falling for your tricks. I know your type. You southerners all think us Middlelanders are beneath you—just your little play thing.

  This is probably just another practical joke. Ask me to hang out somewhere secluded and pretend to be my friend, dumping paint on me while everyone laughs, right?”

  Ignacio blinked. “No, I—” He hesitated for a moment. “Wait… did something like that actually happen to you?”

  Elera’s expression faltered. “What!? No… it was just an example,” she said quickly, looking away as she fidgeted.

  After a brief pause, she squared her shoulders and tried to regain control of the conversation.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Fine! Then just say what you want already.”

  "I need your help with a project I'm working on."

  Elera raised an eyebrow. "A project? What kind of project?"

  "A secret project." Ignacio smirked. "Me and Lucas are making something big."

  Her skepticism deepened. "Lucas? Lucas Fulgar? You're friends with someone like him?"

  "Yeah, we are basically best buds, but I need you too. You're the best medic in this school, and I need the best." He stepped a little closer, his voice dripping with charm—closer than she was comfortable with.

  For a moment, she blushed, but then her expression hardened. "You just don't want to get in trouble, do you?"

  Ignacio shrugged. "That too."

  Elera sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. But when she looked back up, he was still standing there, eyes bright, grinning like an overexcited puppy waiting for her answer.

  She groaned. "You're just going to keep doing this whether I say yes or no, aren't you?"

  Ignacio crossed his arms confidently. "A future Ace like me would never give up on his dreams."

  "Ugh, ok. I'll help, for now."

  "Yes!" Ignacio let out a triumphant cheer.

  Elera rolled her eyes. "But only because I have a feeling that if I don’t watch you, you're going to end up dead. I know an injury-prone idiot when I see one."

  “This will be awesome, you won’t regret it,” Ignacio said beaming at the prospect of another recruit to his grand plan.

  “But, if I’m going to help there’s one more thing.”

  That "thing" she was referring to? Finnegan Rivers.

  A friend of Elera’s—and her condition for agreeing. Apparently, breaking all your bones and healing them every time there was a mistake was a “bad plan” and she can’t “heal being dead”.

  So, she insisted they bring in someone with a spell capable of creating a safe water landing and someone accurate enough to actually catch him at a distance.

  And apparently, this was the guy.

  Elera had only given Ignacio one task: convince Finnegan to come out of his room. Which was certainly an odd request. It’s not like he could stay in there forever, right.

  But it seemed simple enough. So, off he went.

  After a few minutes of knocking, the door finally creaked open.

  For a moment, Ignacio had almost assumed he wasn’t home—or asleep, maybe. But then, the door cracked just enough to reveal a droopy-eyed, dark-haired boy standing in the dim light.

  Before Finn could even get a word out, Ignacio grinned and clapped a hand on the doorframe.

  “Hey, Finn, buddy! I’m Ignacio. Elera sent me! Said you were the best shot in school, so I need your help!”

  Finn blinked, eyes flicking between Ignacio and the hallway behind him, as if already searching for an escape.

  He mumbled something under his breath, barely audible.

  “What? I can’t hear you.”

  Finn swallowed, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I’m… n-... interesting.”

  Ignacio beamed. “You’re interested? Great!”

  Before Finn could process what was happening, Ignacio threw an arm around his shoulder and began dragging him down the hall with zero hesitation.

  Finn stiffened, his feet shuffling awkwardly as if trying to resist—but not quite managing to.

  “Wait, I—”

  “Come on, it'll be fun!” Ignacio declared, ignoring any potential objections as he steered them toward the exit.

  Getting him on board was way easier than the others. That’s what Ignacio liked about Finn—the guy never said no to anything. Or really said much at all.

  But that didn’t matter. Ignacio knew he was worthy of joining the team. And so just like that, another friend was recruited.

  And so, the four continued like that for some time, meeting up in the dead of night. Lucas would adjust the gear. Ignacio would test it out. Finn would watch over him from his scope, and Elera would patch him up when he inevitably got hurt. Again and again, they repeated the cycle—tinkering, testing, crashing, healing. And as they did, the four grew ever closer, always looking forward to their secret late night meet ups.

  Then one day, it finally clicked.

  Ignacio launched into the air—and this time, there was no spinning, no loss of control. Whether it was because the gear was finally tuned to perfection or because he had learned to handle it, he didn’t know.

  But none of that mattered. Because he was flying—fast.

  He flew into the air, as the others cheered him from below. That night, he soared higher than ever before. Up there in the night sky, he looked down at Delrado from a view few got to see. Certainly not the Silver Fox, as thoroughly grounded as he was.

  From this height, the city’s skyline glowed beneath him, a sea of flickering lights. The people below looked like ants in a sea of lights. He breathed it all in, savoring the feeling.

  High above it all, everything felt right. It felt like where he belonged. He would never be like the Silver Fox—but he had achieved greatness all the same, and he did it his way. And though he’d never admit it, he had worked hard to achieve it.

  The rest was easy.

  He graduated from the academy. He fought bad guys. He became an Ace.

  All his friends became Aces too—as expected of those who ran with the great Crimson Rocket.

  He learned that Elera didn’t hate him nearly as much as he thought.

  And now, he was called back from the front to bask in the adoration of his people.

  Or at least, that was supposed to happen.

  Until the war followed him home.

  ***

  “Hurry up!” Ignacio shouted impatiently. “I need to get out there!”

  “I know, I know! This suit wasn’t exactly designed to go on easily. I’m trying,” Lucas shot back, scrambling around the much taller man, frantically fastening straps, securing hinges, and fastening heavy metal boots.

  Ignacio could only watch the carnage unfold beyond the castle doors. Screams filled the air. People were running, falling, dying. Explosions and slugs rained down onto the courtyard, cutting through soldiers and noncombatants alike.

  It was a massacre.

  The moment the wind began to pick up, Dalten had given him the order—"Go suit up!"—as if he needed to be told.

  But right now, all he could do was stand there and wait.

  “C’mon, Lucas,” Ignacio urged, his voice tight with frustration. “People are dying out there. We need to go—now.”

  “Almost… almost…”

  Then—click.

  “There, got it! You’re ready to go!” Lucas exclaimed, giving Ignacio a final pat on the back for good luck before quickly stepping away to safety.

  Ignacio stepped onto the wooden stage, his heavy metal boots slamming against the floor with each step.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  He held out his two rocket shaped sluggers down to his side and locked his arms into position with a precise twist. He flicked a switch and the crystals began to glow a bright red as engines deep within his inside sputtered to life, whining as they started building in power.

  Gone were the rusted old sluggers and scraps of metal frame he had started with at the academy.

  Now, he had gear fit for an Ace.

  The Rocket Sluggers was a sight to behold—a seamless fusion of futuristic innovation. The two heavy bullet-shaped weapons, each looked like a rocket ship in their own right, shined with sleek silver finish, and bore deep grooves and subtle red engravings along its side. Ending in a wide flared muzzle, metal flaps shifted back and forth, adjusting to fine-tune the weapon’s control.

  The butt of the sluggers locked into his reinforced steel framing that fit snugly around his body, and upgraded with additional protective plating. While his mechanical steel boots frosted over with the magic of the two attached bright blue crystals.

  Small vent ports lined the length of the barrel, intricately placed to spit out sparks and embers as the weapons began to growl and shake.

  And deep within the dark recesses of the sluggers, a powerful flame began to churn—heating up, and ready to put on a show.

  Ignacio looked up at the two massive airships, their cannons thundering away, raining destruction onto the helpless crowd below.

  He had fought the Treviets countless times before, but there had never been hatred behind his actions.

  As far as he was concerned, they were just fodder—stepping stones to prove his greatness.

  But now, they had come to his home.

  They attacked his city.

  They fired upon his people.

  And for the first time in his carefree, privileged life—

  Ignacio felt hatred.

  His goggles flipped down—and he squeezed the triggers.

  In a thunderous boom, flames erupted violently from his weapons, launching him skyward in an instant and leaving behind a thick trail of fire and black smoke.

  He tore through the sky, wind pressing on his face.

  Higher.

  Faster.

  He shot straight up, climbing through the sky at blistering speeds, his eyes locked on his target.

  As he closed in, he cut the flames, letting inertia carry him the rest of the way—until he slowed to a dead stop in the air, right beside the ship.

  For a moment, he was eye level with the Treviet gunners. He saw the shock in their eyes as they struggled to register the impossible sight of him hovering right across from them.

  He didn’t give them the chance to figure it out.

  He raised his sluggers.

  With a flick of a switch, the rune-covered spell cartridge spun within the mechanical, revolving chamber and loaded with a click.

  Then, he fired.

  A massive ball of fire shot forth, slamming into the armored side of the airship. The metal giant shuddered from the impact, its round frame recoiling back.

  But it's thick plating held firm. Just a few scorch marks as a reminder of his attack.

  The gunners along the side , however, didn’t fare as well. Their turrets, now a mess of ash and smoke.

  The remaining Treviet gunners scrambled to reposition, swiveling their turrets and chain-sluggers toward Ignacio.

  But he wasn’t worried.

  With a confident smile and a flick of his wrist, the hinges on his shoulder loosened, letting him aim one slugger to the side, before locking back in again. He fired it again, flames launching him to the side out of the line of fire. The volley of bolts and slugs whizzed past, missing completely.

  Without skipping a beat, he readjusted and took off racing around the airship at blistering speeds.

  He zig-zagged through the air, twisting and turning as the enemy gunners desperately tried to turn their weapons to catch him in their sights. But their sluggish turrets couldn’t keep up—not with the speed of Crimson Rocket.

  Ignacio barely needed to slow to attack, letting his exhaust pause just long enough to fire a focused blast at an exposed turret, engulfing it in a burst of flames before igniting his thrusters and zipping away again.

  He kept at it—darting, striking, harassing. Doing whatever he could to silence the flying fortress’s weapons and keep them from firing on the people below.

  But he couldn’t land a killing blow.

  Finally, he pulled back, getting enough distance that he could evade with ease. Trying to make a bit of space to evaluate the situation and plan out his next move

  “Ig, can you hear me?”

  The voice rang through his head, disembodied yet unmistakably familiar, as Elera’s Telepathic Link spell echoes in his mind.

  “Elera! Yeah, I’m here. What the hell is going on down there? How did these guys get through all our defenses without anyone noticing?”

  “I don’t know. The storm is cutting us off from the outside. We can’t even get a crystalwave signal through. Right now, we have no idea if help is coming or what the situation outside is like.”

  Her voice was tense, controlled, but he could hear an edge of worry beneath it.

  “For now, we need to focus on getting the noncombatants into the castle for shelter. Can you keep those airships focused on you while we get everyone to safety?”

  Ignacio twisted through the air, dodging another barrage of vibrant neon slugs.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?

  “And where the hell is everyone? Shouldn’t the old man be out here saving the day?”

  “Protocol Safe Haven has been activated,” Elera explained. “The Supreme Commander and most of the generals have been teleported to safety. General Vearez and General Dominique stayed behind to help evacuate the noncombatants.

  “But, General Vearez got hit with some sort of weird device during the worst of the storm. It’s attached itself to him and it’s interfering with his spells. Lucas is trying to figure out how to get it off now.”

  “And Finn?” Ignacio asked, weaving between another burst of enemy fire.

  “I sent him up to get a better look at the situation from one of the towers, and help you out if he can.”

  “So they decided to take out our heaviest hitter early, huh?”

  Ignacio scoffed. “They really planned this out. Honestly, I’m a little insulted that they didn’t go for me.”

  He cracked a grin, eyes burning with challenge. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to show them how big of a mistake that was.”

  With that, he blasted off toward the airships again.

  Just like before, he weaved effortlessly through the downpour of slugger fire, dodging each glowing streak with ease and style.

  His own volleys erupted against the ship’s metal hide, but even as his attacks lit up the hull, the damage was minimal, at best.

  He broke away, gaining distance to regain his bearings.

  “Damn it! The armor on these things is too thick—I can’t stay still long enough to find any weak points.”

  A second voice echoed in his head, breaking through his frustration.

  “Hey, Ignacio, can you hear me?”

  This time, it was Finn.

  A unique perk of Elera’s Telepathic Link was that it could connect multiple minds at once. Not enough for an army of course. But for a small squad like this, it was perfect.

  “Finn? Where the hell are you? I could really use some help up here.”

  “East tower, second from the left.” Finn’s voice was calm but strained. “I’m trying to make my way up, but I’ve got company. Think you can clear out the top?"

  Ignacio glanced toward the east tower, spotting a group of Treviets who had leapt from one of the airships, firing into the stairwell below.

  "You guys really need to pick up the slack. What would you do if I wasn’t around?" he snarked before veering toward the tower.

  He didn’t even bother slowing down.

  With a flick of the switch, another spell cartridge spun, clicking into place once more.

  By the time the soldiers looked up, it was too late.

  Ignacio swooped past, leaving behind a blazing torrent of flame that clung to everything, engulfing the entire top of the tower in flames.

  He didn’t stick around to admire his handiwork—slug fire still chased him, forcing him to keep moving to stay ahead of it.

  Finn’s voice came through the link again.

  "Thanks. I’ll try to get a look at things now—Agh! Couldn’t you have gone a little easier on the fire? I can barely get to the window."

  "You’re the water guy. Just put it out and hurry up. I can’t tell what’s going on while I’m moving like this."

  "Okay, okay."

  Ignacio glanced back, catching sight of a long barrel of a slugger sticking out from one of the tower’s upper windows.

  Through the scope, Finn scanned the battlefield.

  "Looks like Elera has gotten most of the survivors into the castle," he reported. "They’re not aiming at the crowd anymore either—looks like you’re good enough bait."

  “Great. Hopefully, once we get everyone inside, we can regroup with a plan.”

  “Well, I don’t know how much time we’ve got,” Finn replied. “There are still four—maybe five—dozen soldiers that dropped from the airships. They’re pushing their way into the castle from the walls and roofs. I can see fighting inside. Looks like the castle guards are holding them off, but I can’t tell how well they’re holding up from here.”

  “Damn it! That’s even more reason to take down these damn ships so we can go help.”

  Ignacio gritted his teeth, banking hard to dodge a fresh volley of slug fire.

  “I’ve been laying into this thing all over, but I can’t seem to do any real damage. See any way to bring it down?”

  “Yeah, I see what you’re talking about.” Ignacio’s eyes scanned the massive airship. “Look at all those guns—every inch of this thing is armored despite being on the smaller side. I don’t think I’ve seen one like this before. Tempest class, maybe?”

  A new voice cut into the link—Lucas.

  “Did you say Tempest class?”

  “Lucas, you know something?”

  “I got wind that the Treviet’s were working on a stealth system to avoid being spotted by long range detection. If they installed one on a Tempest-class airship, it’s no wonder they got through undetected. But something like that would need a massive power supply—they wouldn’t be able to keep it running the entire way. Maybe if they took out the accelerator for increased—”

  “Lucas! You can nerd out on your own time. I need to take this thing out now!”

  “Yeah—right. Near the rear should be exhaust points. Send some fire in there, and it won’t stay floating for long.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Ignacio grinned, eyes locking onto his new target. “Finn, cover me.”

  “On it!” Finn replied, already moving.

  He reached into his side pouch, pulling out a cartridge glowing with blue runes. With a precise motion, he slid it into his slugger, jamming it into place before raising the weapon.

  But his sights weren’t on the airship.

  Instead, he aimed at the empty tower across the way.

  Finn pulled the trigger.

  A brilliant blue bolt streaked across the battlefield, piercing through the tower window.

  Inside, the air shimmered and burst apart—water surged outward, expanding rapidly.

  Within seconds, it took shape—a familiar, aqueous cloaked figure formed, seemingly holding its own translucent blue slugger. A perfect, water-formed clone of the Cerulean Sniper.

  With that done, Finnegan shifted his focus upward, locking onto the gunner manning a chain-slugger turret—the one guarding the vulnerable rear of the airship.

  From this angle, he could see one, but he knew there had to be another on the opposite side, just out of view. He needed to take out both.

  As he raised his sights, so did his copy.

  Mirroring his movements perfectly, the watery clone lifted its slugger, both of them zeroing in on their targets.

  With a pull of the trigger, they fired in unison.

  A beat later, not one but two soldiers plummeted from the ship, their bodies dropping in near-perfect synchronization.

  Ignacio didn’t waste the opening.

  He whipped around the airship, weaving through the sky as the gunners struggled to keep up with his speed.

  Within seconds, he had reached the rear, right behind the massive spinning rotors of the now-unguarded ship.

  That’s when he saw them—the grates.

  From within, a faint purple glow of air magic flickered through the vents, feeding into the vulnerable engines.

  Perfect!

  Without hesitation, Ignacio raised his sluggers and unleashed a torrent of fire straight into the vents.

  It didn’t take long before he heard the rumbling, the clanging of metal from within.

  Ignacio angled away, just as a series of explosions tore through the ship’s interior.

  Smoke poured from every crevice, the fortress shook wildly, several blue clad soldiers tossed overboard from the force.

  The airship lurched, tilting at an unnatural angle, its movements erratic and unstable.

  It limped toward the edge of the storm, struggling to stay in the air. Just as it was about to collide with the swirling tornado walls the winds seemed to part, letting the fortress retreat from the fight unimpeded.

  “Ha! That’s what I’m talking about!” Ignacio grinned behind his goggles, his whole body thrumming with adrenaline. “That’ll teach ‘em they don’t stand a chance against Aces.”

  He let out a breath, still riding the high of the fight. “You know, I kinda missed this. Working with you guys again… reminds me of our academy days.”

  Elera, ever serious, cut in immediately. “Don’t get cocky. This is no time for nostalgia. Take out the last ship and get over here—we need you.”

  Ignacio smirked, shifting his grip on the controls. “Don’t you worry those pretty blue eyes of yours. We’ll finish up here in no time. Just hold on a little longer.”

  And with that, he tilted forward, flames erupting from his sluggers as he shot toward the next target—straight into the heart of danger once more.