Chapter 1: Into the Storm
The Gulf of Mexico stretched out beneath the wings of two F-22 Raptors like a glittering, endless expanse of blue. The planes moved effortlessly through the air, sleek and predatory against the clear sky. It was a typical day for a training flight—routine maneuvers, systems checks, and the usual chatter between pilots.
Captain Jake "Hammer" Hayes glanced down at the instruments in his cockpit. Everything was running perfectly. The years of repetition made flights like this feel second nature. His mind wandered as he flew, just a little. He'd been in the Air Force for eight years now, with tours in the Middle East, countless sorties, and a handful of near-death experiences. He could practically see the clock ticking down to the day when he'd step out of the cockpit for good. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next year—but eventually.
His thoughts drifted to his family back in Fort Worth. Sarah, his wife, had sent him a picture that morning of their two daughters, Emma and Grace, eating breakfast at the kitchen table. Emma, six years old, had her face smeared with peanut butter as she proudly displayed her artwork for school. Grace, three, was still in her pajamas, pretending to feed her stuffed bear.
"How's the view up there, Hammer?" the voice of Lieutenant Matt "Buzz" Thompson crackled through the radio, snapping Hayes back to the present.
Hayes smirked under his mask. Buzz was fresh out of advanced flight school—a natural talent in the air, always itching for a challenge. He was one of those guys with a spotless record and glowing recommendations, the type that came up fast in the ranks. But despite his inexperience, Hayes liked the kid. Buzz reminded him of himself a decade ago—hungry, ambitious, and damn good at what he did.
"Same view it's been for the last twenty minutes, Buzz," Hayes replied, his tone relaxed. "Clear skies, clear ocean, nothing exciting."
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind something exciting. I heard they're doing some combat drills up north. Wouldn't mind showing off what I've got, you know?" Buzz's voice carried that edge of youthful energy, the eagerness to prove himself.
Hayes shook his head. "Patience, Buzz. You'll get your chance soon enough. For now, let's keep it smooth. You remember what I told you?"
"Yeah, yeah. 'Routine's what keeps you alive,'" Buzz grumbled, mimicking Hayes' advice from a dozen flights before. "But you've got to admit, it wouldn't hurt to spice things up once in a while."
"You'll appreciate the routine more after you've been shot at a couple of times."
Hayes switched the radio channel briefly to check in with ground control. "Command, this is Hammer 1. Everything looks good on our end. We're about to start the next set of maneuvers."
"Copy that, Hammer 1. You're clear for the exercise," came the calm voice of ground control.
Hayes tapped his instruments. "Alright, Buzz, let's run through the drill. Formation sweep and roll, on my mark."
The two Raptors shifted into a wide, sweeping turn, moving in perfect unison. Buzz kept tight on Hayes' wing, their planes gliding through the maneuvers with precision. The younger pilot's control was smooth, a testament to his skill. They pulled into a steep climb, testing the planes' limits, before leveling out again at cruising altitude.
"Not bad, Buzz," Hayes complimented. "You'll make a decent pilot yet."
"Decent? I was hoping for more than that, Hammer," Buzz shot back with a grin in his voice.
"You'll get your praise when you earn it."
As they leveled off, Hayes' radar screen flickered. His eyes darted to the display—something was off. A disturbance had appeared in the distance, about thirty miles ahead. Dark clouds were gathering in a place that had been clear moments ago. It was like a storm was materializing out of thin air.
"You seeing this, Buzz?" Hayes asked, his tone sharpening.
"Yeah, I got it. That storm came out of nowhere," Buzz replied, the excitement in his voice giving way to concern.
Hayes flipped back to the main comm channel. "Command, this is Hammer 1. We're picking up an anomaly. A storm's forming fast—thirty miles east of our position. Can you confirm?"
A brief pause followed, the kind that told Hayes they weren't expecting anything out of the ordinary. Finally, the voice from ground control came through. "Negative, Hammer 1. No storms reported in the area. Do you have a visual?"
"Affirmative. It's big—looks like it's growing. Should we check it out?"
"Stand by, Hammer 1. Stay clear of the formation until we get more information."
Hayes hesitated. The storm didn't just look unnatural—it felt unnatural. The way the clouds were swirling, almost like they were being drawn into a single point. Lightning crackled through the mass, illuminating the strange shapes forming at its core.
"Buzz, let's get a little closer. Something's not right," Hayes said, steering his plane toward the storm, but keeping his distance.
As they approached, the anomaly became more apparent. The clouds were warping, and in the middle of the formation, there was a strange, shimmering distortion—almost like a tear in the fabric of the sky itself.
"Command, we're getting a visual on something… unusual. There's a, uh, distortion in the storm. Might be a weather phenomenon, but it doesn't look like anything I've seen," Hayes reported, his voice more cautious now.
"Roger that, Hammer 1. Proceed with caution."
Suddenly, the distortion in the storm twisted violently, and from within the swirling clouds, seven massive shapes burst into the sky. Hayes' heart skipped a beat. His mind tried to process what he was seeing, but there was no logical explanation.
"What in the hell…" Buzz's voice was nearly a whisper.
They were dragons—massive, winged reptiles, their scales shimmering red and bronze, their wings cutting through the air like blades. Each one was the size of a small plane, and they moved with terrifying grace. At the forefront was a larger creature, its scales a deep, fiery orange, with a jagged scar across its face. Its eyes locked onto the jets immediately.
"Command, this is Hammer 1, we've got visual on… unknown contacts. Seven large, winged entities—approximately twenty feet in height, thirty to forty in length. Resemble… dragons?" Hayes struggled to find the words. "Do you copy?"
There was a pause before ground control responded, the tension in their voice evident. "Hammer 1, say again. You're reporting… dragons?"
"Affirmative. Winged creatures—massive. They're circling us. Do we engage?"
Buzz's voice crackled over the radio. "They're not making any moves yet, but they're definitely checking us out. What the hell are we looking at, Hammer?"
Hayes' instincts told him the creatures were sizing them up. They hovered in formation, but their sharp eyes and tensed bodies suggested they were on edge. The jets, loud and unfamiliar, had drawn their attention—and perhaps their suspicion.
"Command, what's the call here? They're not engaging, but we're not sure if they're hostile."
"Hold your position, Hammer 1. We're running analysis now. Disengage if they become aggressive, but do not engage unless fired upon."
The lead dragon snarled, the sound reverberating through the air even over the jets' roaring engines. It flared its massive wings, a clear display of dominance. Hayes had seen that look before—in predators sizing up a threat.
"They're getting antsy," Buzz muttered, anxiety creeping into his voice.
Hayes' hand hovered over the throttle, ready to break formation if the dragons made a move. "Stay calm, Buzz. We're not firing unless we have no choice."
But the lead dragon wasn't about to wait. It snarled again, a deep, guttural sound, and two of the smaller dragons peeled off from the group, angling toward the jets with terrifying speed.
"They're coming in hot!" Buzz shouted, banking his jet hard to the right. Hayes followed suit, pulling into a sharp evasive maneuver.
"Command, we're under attack! Requesting immediate backup!" Hayes called, his voice tight.
"Copy that, Hammer 1. Disengage if possible, reinforcements on standby."
The dragons streaked through the sky, their eyes locked on the jets, wings beating with furious intensity. They hadn't opened fire—at least, not yet—but they were closing fast.
"They think we're the threat," Hayes growled. "We need to lose them."
The lead dragon roared, fire flickering in its throat, as it charged forward.
"Brace yourself, Buzz!" Hayes shouted as the dragons surged.
The dragons surged toward the jets, their massive wings beating with the strength of a storm. Hayes banked hard to the left, narrowly avoiding the lead dragon's approach, its fiery eyes locked onto him. Buzz mirrored his movements, staying in formation but veering wide as the dragons split into two groups, one diving straight for Hayes and the other aiming for Buzz.
"Keep it tight, Buzz!" Hayes barked over the radio. "Remember your training, and stay on my wing."
"Copy that!" Buzz replied, his voice tense but steady. "I'm with you, Hammer."
Hayes pulled his F-22 into a steep climb, forcing the dragon chasing him to follow. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the creature spread its wings wide, flames licking at the corners of its mouth as it prepared to breathe fire.
"Not today," Hayes muttered, rolling the jet over and diving, the sudden maneuver catching the dragon off guard. As the beast struggled to match the movement, Hayes squeezed the trigger, sending a volley of bullets straight into the dragon's chest. The rounds ripped through its scales, and with a guttural roar, the dragon plummeted from the sky, its massive body trailing smoke as it fell toward the ocean below.
"One down!" Hayes called, pulling up sharply to avoid the wreckage.
Buzz was in the middle of his own fight. Two dragons had flanked him, their claws stretched out as they tried to box him in. Buzz, though inexperienced in combat, was quick on the controls. He threw his plane into a rapid barrel roll, twisting through the narrow gap between the two beasts. The sudden movement threw off their coordination, and Buzz pulled up into an arc, circling back around behind them.
"Buzz, on your six!" Hayes warned, watching as one of the dragons lunged at Buzz from behind, claws extended.
"I see it!" Buzz yanked his stick to the side, evading the swipe by inches. The dragon's claws scraped the outer edge of his wing, but the jet remained intact.
Without hesitation, Buzz unleashed a short burst of gunfire, the bullets tearing through the wing of the dragon on his right. The beast let out a pained screech, spiraling out of control before slamming into the water with a massive splash.
"That's two!" Buzz shouted, adrenaline pumping through his voice.
"Good shooting, Buzz! Stay sharp!" Hayes called, feeling a surge of pride for the younger pilot. "There's still three of them."
The remaining dragons regrouped, with the lead dragon—the largest of them all—snarling in frustration. Its scarred face twisted in fury as it eyed the jets circling above. With a powerful beat of its wings, it charged straight at Hayes.
"Here we go," Hayes muttered, pulling his jet into a steep climb again, trying to gain altitude and force the dragon into a vulnerable position. But this one was smarter, faster than the others. The beast angled upward, matching Hayes' climb with terrifying speed. Fire flickered in its throat.
"Buzz, watch the big one!" Hayes shouted as the dragon closed in.
"I'm coming, Hammer!" Buzz yelled, but he was still locked in combat with the remaining two dragons.
The lead dragon opened its mouth, and a torrent of flames erupted toward Hayes' jet. He veered sharply, but the flames licked at the rear of the plane, setting off warning lights in the cockpit. He cursed under his breath, rolling to avoid another blast. The dragon stayed on him, its massive wings beating with relentless power.
"Command, this is Hammer 1! I'm taking heavy fire—literally! Engaging with hostile airborne entities!" Hayes barked into the comm, flipping switches to ready his missiles.
"Copy, Hammer 1. Reinforcements are en route. Hold your position!" the reply crackled through the radio, but Hayes knew it would be too late.
He flipped his jet into a loop, diving down and then swinging back up behind the dragon. His targeting system locked onto the beast's massive, scarred back. "I've got you now," he muttered. He fired off a missile, the smoke trail streaking across the sky before slamming into the dragon's side. The explosion tore through its wings, and the dragon let out a deafening roar of pain as it tumbled from the sky, flaming chunks of its body trailing behind.
"That's three down!" Hayes shouted, glancing over at Buzz, who was still dogfighting with the last two.
Buzz was holding his own, expertly dodging between the two remaining dragons. He had already clipped one of them with gunfire, and it was bleeding, struggling to keep up. But the younger pilot's inexperience showed—his maneuvers were sharp but sometimes reckless, leaving him just a little too exposed.
"Buzz, break off from the second one! Focus on the wounded one first!" Hayes called, bringing his jet around to assist.
"Got it, Hammer!" Buzz replied, pulling his plane into a tight turn and lining up a clean shot. He fired off a missile, and the wounded dragon shrieked as the projectile struck its chest. The explosion ripped the beast apart, leaving nothing but charred scales and ash falling into the ocean.
"That's four!" Buzz yelled, triumph surging in his voice.
But Hayes barely had time to respond. The largest dragon, still smoking from the missile strike, was barreling toward him with a ferocity that took him by surprise. Its eyes burned with fury, and it let out a roar so powerful it rattled Hayes' cockpit.
"Incoming!" Hayes shouted, yanking his plane into a dive. But the dragon followed, faster than he expected, its claws reaching out. Hayes felt the plane shudder as the dragon's talons scraped along the tail, tearing through metal and sending his jet spiraling.
"Buzz! I'm hit! My controls are damaged!" Hayes fought with the stick, but the plane was spinning wildly, the Gulf and sky twisting around him in a sickening blur.
"Hammer! Hammer, come in!" Buzz's voice was frantic over the radio.
"I'm trying to stabilize, but I'm losing it!" Hayes gritted his teeth, pulling at the controls, but the plane was heading straight for the storm cloud—the same one that had brought the dragons. The distorted air rippled as the jet hurtled toward it.
The last two dragons, realizing their leader had fallen and that they were no match for Buzz's jet, flared their wings and turned, retreating back into the storm. Buzz watched as they disappeared into the swirling clouds.
"Hammer, don't go in there! Pull up!" Buzz shouted, but it was too late. Hayes' jet, spiraling out of control, shot straight into the vortex.
The world shifted in an instant. One moment, Hayes was surrounded by the storm, the howling wind and lightning flashing around him, and the next, he was hurtling through clear skies—alien skies.
"What the hell…" Hayes muttered, still fighting for control of the damaged jet.
He managed to level out, the cockpit shaking as alarms blared, and glanced around at the landscape below. Gone was the vast blue expanse of the Gulf. Now there were jagged mountains, lush forests, and rolling plains as far as the eye could see.
"This definitely ain't Kansas," Hayes breathed, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. But the damage to his jet was too severe. The controls were unresponsive, and the jet was losing altitude fast.
"Command, this is Hammer 1—do you copy?" he called into the radio, but all he got was static. He was on his own.
The plane lurched as the ground rushed up to meet him. Hayes pulled the ejection lever, and with a jolt, the cockpit canopy blasted away. He was shot into the sky, the parachute deploying seconds later as his jet crashed into the forest below with a deafening explosion.
Hayes floated down, his heart racing, eyes scanning the alien landscape. Below him, the smoldering wreckage of his F-22 lay scattered across the trees. He hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact, before coming to a stop.
Breathing heavily, he looked around. He was alone, deep in a foreign wilderness, on a world that was definitely not Earth.
As the sounds of the forest filled the air, Hayes muttered to himself, "Where the hell am I?"
Emberclaw flew steadily, her wings slicing through the cold northern winds as she flew alongside the SkyWing scout unit toward the churning storm on the horizon. The sea below churned in sync with the black, swirling clouds, the air around them growing thicker, heavier with the taste of salt and electricity. This storm wasn't natural—there was a strange energy to it, something that made Emberclaw's instincts scream to turn back. But orders were orders, and Queen Scarlet had sent them to investigate.
"Stay sharp," Redclaw barked, his deep crimson wings angling slightly as he adjusted his course. He was the leader of their group, larger than the rest, his voice hard as iron. "This storm might be a trick from Blister's or Blaze's. We need to know what's going on here."
"More like weird magic," Emberfang, her brother, muttered beside Emberclaw, his lean frame cutting through the air with a grace she had always admired. His sharp eyes kept darting toward the cloud as they flew closer, a mixture of curiosity and caution in his expression.
Sunspark and Talonstrike flew just behind them, their wings moving in perfect unison. Blazewing and Pyrestone brought up the rear, both quiet but focused. They all knew what was at stake. If this storm was some kind of trap set by Blister or any of the other factions vying for power, Queen Scarlet would want to know immediately.
Redclaw flew ahead of the group, his fierce gaze locked onto the storm. "Spread out a bit," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "Emberfang and Emberclaw, take the left flank. Sunspark and Talonstrike, you're on the right. Blazewing and Pyrestone, keep your eyes on the back. We don't know what we're dealing with."
The SkyWings adjusted their formation, Emberclaw glancing at Emberfang as they peeled away from the main group. "Think this is just a storm?" she asked, trying to mask the unease in her voice.
"Maybe," Emberfang replied, his expression serious. "But we've learned to deal with anything that's thrown our way. We can't be too careful. Just stick close."
They flew closer, the winds whipping around them and the clouds darkening as they approached. Emberclaw felt a strange tension in the air, an oppressive weight that sent a chill down her spine. The storm loomed larger, swirling ominously, and just as she opened her mouth to voice her concerns, something shot out from the heart of the cloud.
A metallic glint caught her eye. Emberclaw squinted against the glare, her heart pounding as she recognized it wasn't a dragon at all. It was something else—something foreign and terrifying.
"Redclaw!" Emberclaw shouted, her voice barely carrying over the howling winds. "Something's coming!"
"Form up!" Redclaw roared, instinctively flaring his wings. "Weapons ready! It could be a trap!"
As if in response to his command, two sleek, silver machines burst from the storm, roaring past them with a speed that took Emberclaw's breath away. They weren't dragons; they were something else entirely, something metal and powerful, and they weren't flying like anything Emberclaw had ever seen.
"Watch out!" Emberfang shouted, swerving to avoid a massive shadow as the lead machine veered towards them, its roar echoing like thunder. Emberclaw felt a wave of fear crash over her, but Redclaw's fierce determination anchored her.
"Attack formation!" Redclaw commanded. "Flank them and prepare to engage!"
The squad responded immediately, but the machines were faster than they anticipated. The lead machine unleashed a series of loud bursts, and Emberclaw watched in horror as Pyrestone, attempting to evade, was struck and sent spiraling toward the sea.
"Pyrestone!" Emberclaw screamed, her heart racing as she dove to follow him, but the battle was escalating too quickly. The remaining SkyWings struggled to keep their formations intact. Redclaw and Talonstrike charged at one of the machines, determined to make it pay for Pyrestone's loss.
"Keep your distance!" Redclaw shouted as he and Talonstrike launched themselves at the metallic beast. "Aim for its underbelly! It can't be as tough there!"
Emberclaw watched as the two SkyWings swooped low, claws outstretched. The metallic machine twisted, dodging their attack with an agility that astonished her. Emberclaw felt anger surge in her chest; this was their territory, their skies. They couldn't let these strange creatures take that from them.
With a surge of determination, she followed Emberfang in another attack, firing a stream of flames at the larger machine. The fire lit up the storm clouds, illuminating their surroundings for just a moment. But the creature's speed was astonishing; it barely flinched as it dodged Emberclaw's flames.
"Stay together!" Redclaw barked, trying to rally the remaining squad. But chaos reigned as the machines unleashed their firepower again, and another SkyWing, Blazewing, was caught in the onslaught. The sound of tearing flesh and screeching dragon echoed in Emberclaw's ears, and dread washed over her.
Emberclaw couldn't bear to look. She focused on the battle, her instincts kicking in as she tried to dodge another oncoming blast. Talonstrike lunged at one of the machines, claws extended, but the creature twisted and fired again, sending him spiraling down in a trail of smoke.
"Fall back! Regroup!" Redclaw shouted, his voice cutting through the noise of the battle. But as Emberclaw glanced back, she could see the retreating forms of her comrades—Sunspark and Emberfang—taking off away from the chaos. It was clear they needed to escape.
The lead machine suddenly turned its attention to Redclaw, the largest of them all. Emberclaw felt a surge of adrenaline as she watched Redclaw dive in, determined to confront the strange beast, but it was too late. With a blinding flash, the machine unleashed another blast, catching Redclaw in its sights.
Emberclaw's heart stopped as she saw her leader get hit, the force sending him spiraling downward. "NO!" she cried, but she could do nothing but watch as he plummeted toward the dark waters.
"Retreat!" Emberfang shouted, his voice hoarse with fear. "We need to warn the Queen!"
Emberclaw hesitated, torn between staying to fight and following her remaining comrades. She glanced back at the storm, now darker than ever, swirling ominously. The lead machine, now trailing smoke, began to spiral out of control, and she felt an inexplicable urge to follow it.
"Emberclaw! Come on!" Emberfang yelled, his eyes wild as he flew away from the storm.
With a final glance at the chaos, Emberclaw pushed herself to follow. They tore away from the battlefield, the storm clouds swirling behind them, but the image of Redclaw and her fallen comrades lingered in her mind.
As they flew into the swirling darkness of the storm, Emberclaw's heart raced. Whatever lay beyond, they had to warn the Queen. This was a threat unlike any they had ever faced, and she felt the weight of it pressing down on her as they fled. The SkyWings had to prepare; this battle was far from over.