The sounds of bullets filled the air. War was at hand in the skies above.
Corsairs, F/A-18 superhornets, supermarine spitifires, war planes of all sorts flew left and right, trying to take out their enemies but to no avail. Even if they had landed hits it didn't seem to slow them down. They just came right on back with no mercy.
The planes didn't want to fight this fight, but they knew they had no choice. They had to protect what was left of their dying species. Even if it meant they died for the sake of others.
"They just keep coming!" a superhornet shouted, diving down to avoid a bullet that was shot at it. "I don't think we can keep this up much longer!"
"Keep fighting!" a corsair shouted back. "We can't let them past this point, the refugee hangars are at stake here!"
The other planes shouted in agreement. "YES SIR!"
The corsair scanned the skies, looking towards their enemies.
He had been through many battles but this… this was one he never imagined himself fighting. He was used to fighting any plane or any other machine for that matter… least… those that were full grown… not adolescent planes. Not adolescent huminids that were fighting by their side.
Why is this happening…? He thought, asking the question for what felt like the hundredth time.
He knew he wouldn't be finding an answer anytime soon but he knew one thing for sure… there was another power at work here. Despite being young, these planes were as strong as any seasoned fighter. Their aim was killer and their speeds unimaginable. The huminids that fought with them were the same in their own way and with their own weapons. It was like some sort of magic had been given to them that allowed them to be able to do all these things. He could accept that… he just wondered why they were doing this. Why they were suddenly blood and oil thirsty.
As it pains me to have to fight them… I can't let them kill anymore machines or huminids… I'll fight till my last breath…
He saw a plane coming right at him. He took aim, firing bullets at it, it doing the same in return. He cringed as he felt some bullets scathe his side. He heard a screech from the one he had fired at. It veered off to the side, smoke coming from where its engine was.
Finally, we're getting somewhere.
"I wouldn't get so confident just yet, machine."
He looked to the side to see a girl who was hanging off a helicopter with a rifle pointed at him. She was dressed in what one could describe was a mix between a battle garb and dress that was various shades of green.
She smirked at him. "This is the only the beginning."
He growled. "What do you want from us?"
The girl laughed. "The one thing no one else can give us… Power… Control…" She fired the rifle. "DEATH!"
The corsair gasped, feeling the bullet pierce through his side. He was glad it didn't hit his engine but he knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in the air much longer. She had hit inner hydraulic pipes. He could feel the fluid already beginning to leak out.
"CAPTAIN!" a plane shouted.
"Don't worry about me!" the corsair barked. "Worry about yourselves!"
"Sir! As much as I hate to say it but we need to retreat! This is a lost cause!" another plane shouted. "There's no use to this fight."
"No!"
The enemies all laughed.
"You should listen to your soldiers, captain." the girl with the rifle laughed. "It truly is a lost cause… just accept your fate, you're all going to die eventually… every last one."
"No… I'll never give up… not to you!"
He fired at the girl and helicopter, landing a few hits.
The girl growled, firing back, only landing hits on his tail. The corsair cried out, veering around the girl and helicopter.
The girl looked at him carefully, taking note of the insignia that was imprinted by his propeller. It was a piston with two wrenches crossed below it.
"A Jolly Wrench…" she commented, looking at the rest of his decals, smiling as she recognized them. "And not just any. Ladies, we're in the presence of one of their greatest captains."
The enemies all looked towards the corsair, grinning at him.
"Who? Who is it Brookie?" the helicopter asked.
Brooke chuckled. "Captain Jericho Riley."
Jericho's eyes narrowed. "What of it?"
"Oh don't even start. You've lead many squadrons to victory and now look where you are… fighting a bunch of adolescent female machines and huminids. My how the mighty fall."
He growled at them. "You're not like any huminids or machines I've ever seen… You're far from the definition of what those terms mean… You're blood and oil thirsty murderers… practically monsters as this point." He looked at all of them. "I've been meaning to find answers… if you dare to answer me… Just what are you now?"
Brooke smirked.
"We're Magical Girls… Puella Magi!"
Puella Magi…? I've never heard of such a thing… Sounds like something out of fairytales… but this isn't quite how I remember Magical Girls are supposed to be… Well that's two questions answered…. What they are… and why every last one of them has been female.
He shuddered as he remembered the other females they had shot down in the past. It was terrifying hearing all their screams.
"Alright… least you were decent enough to answer that question… Then tell me this… Why are you so obsessed with killing everyone?"
The helicopter that was carrying Brooke sneered. "Because… as the old saying goes… misery enjoys company… It is our fate too… but it is so much worse than any of you will ever experience."
What…?
"The world doesn't know us… Our families heh they all have the same reactions… Freaks… Possessed… Devil children… They want to believe we're all evil… We might as well become a self fulfilling prophecy."
Jericho growled. "No! It doesn't have to be like-"
A plane shot at his wing, silencing him.
"You don't understand… we're under different rules now. Rules that are far beyond your comprehension, captain."
Jericho held back a scream through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the pain in his wing.
"We'll eventually end up becoming the embodiment of curses in time, so we might as well just start being it now."
The plane looked to Brooke. "Shall we kill him and his squadron?"
Brooke thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No… let's have them head back to their little refugee hangars. Send out a message to all those in hiding that we're coming for them."
Jericho glared at her. "I'd rather die in exchange you leave them alone."
"That wouldn't be enough." Brooke scoffed. "Besides… killing you isn't fun. Having you suffer… that's more entertaining."
He growled. "Magical Girl seems so unfitting for someone like you…"
She growled back. "You're wrong! We're worthy of that title… Think about it this way… You've shot at me and my friend here how many times? Yet you see we're still alive… in fact.." She showed one of her injuries as it was healing. "You can't kill us!"
Jericho's eyes widened in horror at the sight. It explained every last battle… why they almost seemed to never end. He felt his drive to fight dying as he saw the injury completely fade.
I can't keep my squadron here any longer… I'll just have us all die to invincible enemies… I can't allow that…
He closed his eyes, signing shakily.
"Wrenches… retreat…"
"What!?"
"You're kidding us!" One exclaimed dodging a bullet from a younger plane. "We can still win this-"
"THAT'S AN ORDER FROM YOUR CAPTAIN! REPORT BACK TO THE HANGARS, NOW!"
There was a few sighs and complaints but they complied, flying back to the refugee hangeas, secretly relieved to be away from the girls who were causing so much mayhem, partially angry that they couldn't defeat them.
Jericho banked around again, stealing one last look at Brooke.
This battle is theirs… but we will find a way to fight back… everything has a weakness… we just need to find it.
He looked away, following after his squadron.
"Pheh, I know that look he had on his face, he thinks there's still a way to win." the helicopter scoffed. "He's out of luck there."
Brooke giggled. "Oh yes my friend… They don't know the one place they could've hit… snd let's keep it that way." She said as she adjusted the headdress she wore that possessed a shining gem in the center. After all… They haven't made the connection that the gems we wear aren't simply decoration or part of our forces look…
The girls all shared a cheer of victory before heading off to their base, leaving the squadron they had defeated time to flee and return to the refugee hangars.
Jericho sighed as he joined his squadron, looking at all of them with sympathy.
"I'm sorry for what has happened today for all of us… but I couldn't risk them killing more of us… We've already lost enough as it were… the refugee hangars still need at least some protectors still standing."
"We understand, sir." a plane answered. "This is just humiliating…"
"I know… Right now we need to return to base and get repaired then some how prepare for this invasion… for now… my orders for all of you after you've been fixed up… spend time with whatever family you have in the hangars… for I think we might not have much time left with them…"
"Yes sir…" one murmured. "I… I need to see my daughter at least one last time…"
"This is hopeless…" another growled. "I shot one right in the head and she just got back up!"
Jericho closed his eyes. "We'll discuss the battle when we are all rested. Maybe we'll find something, I know for fact I saw some go down… there has to be a weakness… there just has to be… we can't give up… if we do… What hope does any machine have left?"
"Like we've had any as of late." a supermarine spitfire commented. "Not only has this war been waging on all of us, but we've had many fall ill and end up dying… Jericho, what hope could there possibly be for any machine in the state we're in? Let's face it… we're…"
"Don't. Say it." Jericho growled. "I so much as hear that sentence I'll bend your propeller into a pretzel."
The soldier scoffed. "I'm gonna say it anyway. WE'RE SCREWED!"
"Bent prop for you then." Jericho looked to his other soldiers. "I don't want to hear anything else from all of you till we're at the planning meeting. Understood?"
The soldiers all gave a chorus of "Yes sir."
"Good… now come on…" He looked forward to see the sight of many hangars in a valley, all circled about a formation of land that was shaped like an airplane. "Propwash Junction is waiting for us."
"Sir yes sir."
He gave orders for his squadron to land before him, he wanted to do one last check around the area to be sure none of these Magical Girls had decided to come early. He banked around the valley, seeing no sign of them. Relief washed over him as he started making his way for the runway. Soon as he was on the ground, forklift medics came rushing over, beginning treatment on his injuries. He was glad for the pain to leave… but his worry still remained.
They'll come when they want… we need to be ready…
He closed his eyes, letting himself drift a little as he was lead to a hangar to rest.
Whatever it takes… we will find a way to defeat them…