To Geft: Remember, they didn't actually succeed in assassinating Hitler. But there will definitely be a net positive result once people realize just how much the superheroes did during the War. Perhaps a few more people could even be inspired to become heroes as a result!

Marc shook his head ruefully. "Can you imagine if they'd had to do this on every island in the Pacific? Even just the few that they did invade were incredibly costly."

"Of course, they couldn't just ignore the Pacific Theater," Nath pointed out. "Especially after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, there was always going to be a fight to retake everything the Japanese had captured."

"No doubt," agreed Marc. He gestured to one of the panels that Nath had just drawn. "But look at just how costly this particular battle was. It's almost the definition of a Pyrrhic victory."

Nath raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes that's the price that needs to be paid to defeat evil."

Miraculous Hero Key:

Lobo Cinzento – Wolf Miraculous
Rex – Dinosaur Miraculous
Ayání – Bison Miraculous
Ë'nyadö' – Bear Miraculous
Mofeta – Skunk Miraculous

Iwo Jima, February 19, 1945

"We should regroup here," Lobo Cinzento decided, glancing around the small clearing, separated from the airstrip by a handful of trees. The midday sun, still partially blocked by the dense foliage surrounding the airstrip, shone brightly on him, heating his back and arms through his miraculous suit. He had been tempted to shift their position to one of the airstrip's other sides, but with the sun at their backs, it might give them the extra moment of surprise they needed for this mission. Lobo Cinzento stretched his shoulders and neck, peering through the foliage at the sliver of the airstrip visible, adjusting his stance slightly to keep more trees between himself and the Japanese. He could hear the intermittent shelling coming from all around them – the near-constant gunfire that had marked their time on the island as the norteamericano Marines fought for every inch of ground they claimed from the Japanese garrison. Listening closely, Lobo Cinzento let out a breath: the fire was still far from them. Still watching the airstrip out of the corner of his eye, he looked around the clearing at the rest of his team. "Once they know we're here, there won't be any chance to rest until the assault is over."

Flopping down on the ground and leaning up against a tree, Rex folded his hands behind his head and nodded. "That works for me, boss," he agreed readily. "I used two of my powers just to get past the beach; I wouldn't mind a quick chance to recharge."

Lobo Cinzento nodded to him. "Do what you have to. That goes for all of you," he added, raising an eyebrow as Rex detransformed in a flash of light. "Ë'nyadö', take watch – but don't wander," he instructed him sharply.

Ë'nyadö's mouth set in a thin line. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll do what I have to do."

Lobo Cinzento eyed him warily for a long minute before sitting down with his back against a tree and pulling out his canteen.

Pablo rummaged around in his pocket for a corner of that morning's MRE, holding it out for Rexx to chew on. "Sorry I don't have anything better for you, buddy," he apologized to the Kwami. "But after this, we'll get some real meat!"

Stuffing the food in his mouth, Rexx chewed noisily for a minute. "As long as there's food, I am content," he chirped. "I can get all the beef I want after this war is over."

Mofeta shook her head in amusement. "I wish Reek was that easygoing about food!"

Listening to his teammates banter, Lobo Cinzento let out a breath, allowing himself a small smile. When they had decided to join the Allies' cause in the war, he had been worried: the American Miraculous Temple had remained apart, independent of all the wars and conflicts that had shaken up their hemisphere over the past five centuries. On occasion, they had intervened to defend the innocent and stop especially dangerous figures, of course – they couldn't claim to be utilizing the miraculous as they were intended if they refused to help. But the secrecy of their temple and their miraculous had always been of paramount importance. Until now. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the war had become personal. No longer was it a European problem or a norteamericano problem. It was their problem. And they would do what they could to help the norteamericanos to stop this great threat. "Ayání, get the radio set up. Tell command that we are in position. We will be ready for the assault in five minutes or less."

"Understood." Ayání quickly set up the radio and pulled the headphones down over her ears, muttering rapidly into the handset in Navajo before pausing. She listened for several moments, hummed to herself, and responded with several short sentences, followed by another moment of listening.

Rexx had finished his snack in record time; Pablo had already transformed back and was running a hand along his lasso, fastening it to his belt only to unfasten it again. Not far from him, Mofeta sat against a tree, tracing shapes in the dirt with the tip of her bellows. But Ë'nyadö' still stood where he had stopped on their arrival, arms folded, clutching one hand-claw, his eyes narrowed in poorly-disguised rage. It had been a little over three years since the last time Lobo Cinzento had heard Ë'nyadö' laugh, or even seen him smile.

Maybe Guardian Carlos had been correct. Maybe he should have left William back at the Temple.

"Hey." Standing up and walking over to stand directly in front of him, Lobo Cinzento waved a hand in front of Ë'nyadö', who started, blinking dumbly. "Is your head still in the game?"

"Of course," Ë'nyadö' growled. "I'll do my job – so long as it includes killing Japs."

Lobo Cinzento's eyes narrowed. "You need to focus," he told him. "And I mean focus on the mission, not on what you lost." Ë'nyadö' opened his mouth, but Lobo Cinzento cut him off. "Look, I miss her, too – not as much as you, of course. But I miss her. We all do. Everyone loved her, and we all wish we could bring her back. But we can't. All we can do is focus on the task at hand. It won't do anyone any good if you go off the rails and get yourself killed for revenge!"

"I'm fine."

Lobo Cinzento eyed him warily for a long moment; Ë'nyadö' stared back at him without flinching. Finally, Lobo Cinzento nodded, letting out a breath.

"Sir?" Ayání glanced up at Lobo Cinzento, muting her radio. "Command says to proceed with the attack as soon as possible. Thirty-First SeaBee reports a raid element that attacked them six minutes ago and retreated in this direction. As far as Command knows, ours is the only airstrip in the area they could be going to. They should return to the field in… two minutes."

Shifting his weight and assessing the other members of the group for readiness in a glance, Lobo Cinzento turned to Mofeta. "Average refueling and rearming time?"

Mofeta furrowed her brows in thought. "Call it ten minutes before they are all prepped and ready to scramble," she replied, twirling her bellows around her finger by the loop. "It could be a little longer if the ground crew doesn't know what it's doing; it could take a little less if they just need to refuel. But they could cycle the planes and put them back in the air as they come in – in that case, all the planes might not be on the ground for more than two, four minutes at most."

Lobo Cinzento nodded slowly. "Very well, then that's our window." The roar of planes grew from the south, and Lobo Cincento jerked his head to the rest of the group, all of whom dove for cover in the foliage surrounding their clearing. Within seconds, the first of the planes flew overhead, its shadow standing out clearly on the ground as it grew. More and more plane engines echoed above them, looping around and descending to land on the airstrip. As the first plane landed, Lobo Cinzento looked around his small attack group. "This is what we're here for," he told them. "We hit them hard, and we hit them fast. Don't give them any chance to call for backup, and make sure none of those planes get a chance to take off."

Rex grinned, rising to a crouch and placing a hand on his lasso. He wagged his eyebrows. "Hard and fast: just the way I like it!"

Arching an eyebrow at him, Mofeta covered her mouth and snorted. "You've never had a girlfriend in your life!"

"What?" he sputtered, choking on air. His eyes bugged out, and his cheeks started to take on a reddish hue. "That's not true! What about Martina?"

"Didn't she say that was a 'pity date'?" asked Ayání, stifling a laugh.

Mofeta nodded, arching an eyebrow at Rex. "She said you barely managed to string three words together when you were asking her out, and she felt so bad for you."

"Enough!" Lobo Cinzento cleared his throat, giving them a sharp look. "We need to focus!" Creeping through the foliage to poke his head around the tree on the edge of the clearing, he quickly scanned the planes, just as the last one touched down. "I count eight planes."

"That tracks with the eight dugouts," Ayání told him.

Lobo Cinzento nodded slowly. "Ready?" He glanced back at his team out of the corner of his eye as they all gave him nods. Rex tensed, his grip tight on his lasso. Lobo Cinzento came up into a crouch. "… Now!"

Cracking his knuckles, Rex stood up, looped his lasso around Mofeta's waist, and leaped up into the closest tree to land in the top branches. Without hesitation, he dropped down out of the tree on the opposite side, catching the lasso around a tree branch and pulling Mofeta up after him through the branches and leaves, into a parabolic arc. As she reached the top of the tree, Rex pulled forward and released his lasso, sending Mofeta hurtling through the air toward the airstrip. A couple of the Japanese ground crew looked up in shock at her sudden appearance, pointing slowly. One ran to the single anti-aircraft gun.

"Malodor!" Mofeta shouted as she reached the apex of her trajectory, and she pointed her bellows down at them and squeezed. A cloud of noxious gas poured from the bellows' nozzle and spread out to settle over the entire airstrip, dropping several of the Japanese soldiers to their knees and pushing Mofeta higher into the air. The anti-aircraft gun sprang to life, and Mofeta swung around to face the ground, pulled her legs up to her chest, and spun her bellows around on its loop below her, blocking a steady stream of fire as her momentum carried her over the landing strip. The Japanese soldiers still standing turned to follow her, staring confused.

With a roar, Ë'nyadö' burst out from behind the tree cover, just in front of Lobo Cinzento, Rex, and Ayání. Baring his hand claws and letting out a snarl, Ë'nyadö' slashed through the tail of the closest Japanese fighter, which fell to the ground in a heap. Two of the Japanese ground crew spun around to face them, and one drew a pistol, dropping to one knee and aiming for Ë'nyadö's back. Putting on a burst of speed, Ayání lunged between Ë'nyadö' and the soldier, holding out her shield and catching the bullets. Spinning around at the noise, Ë'nyadö', sprang over her claws first and buried boss hand claws in the soldier's chest. "Die, Jap bastards!"

Lobo Cinzento quirked an eyebrow at Ë'nyadö', but he couldn't focus on him for too long; the Japanese soldiers had already begun to react to their sudden assault. Three of the ground crew members rushed to finish refueling the next plane, even as one of the other planes started trying to take off.

Before the plane could get out of the queue, Rex spun his lasso over his head and hurled it, catching it around the Zero's wing and giving it a stiff jerk, pulling it over the plane next to it. Spinning his warclub to build momentum, Lobo Cinzento hurled it across the airstrip at the anti-aircraft gun, sending the ball on the end of the club through the barrel and firing mechanism. Drawing the warclub back to himself, Lobo Cinzento raced a little further ahead, placing a plane and two pilots between himself and the warclub. With a rending creak, the warclub crashed through the plane and sent the pilots diving for cover.

In a matter of minutes, it was all over, and the six surviving Japanese ground crew sat on the ground at their feet, the rest scattered across the airstrip. All eight planes had been dismantled without any damage to the airstrip. "Good work, people," Lobo Cinzento told the others, nodding. "Let Command know they can send their planes over here… just as soon as Rex clears the air!"