The Nosferatu in Unknown Skies

by Lesaiet

In a sudden change of fate, Ilya Pasternak survives his fight against Talisman when his cockpit suddenly ejects itself as he falls. He then saves Shamrock's wife and daughter, betrays Estovakia, and does community service in Gracemeria while helping out the Emmerian Air Force. A few years later, a certain Belkan scientist arrives in Emmeria. Enter Pasternak. (AC6 x AC7 x PW)

Chapter 1: Fate has Other Plans

March 31st, 2016
Gracemeria

They would be safe.

Probably.

Ilya Pasternak took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. As the Emmerian forces finally came into radar range, he could feel his heart beat faster with each passing second. Of course, how could he not? All of Estovakia's air force, save his squadron, were completely wiped out. All of his nation's tanks, launchers, helicopters, and ships in the area were all incapacitated or destroyed.

The war would be lost. Estovakia had nothing left to throw at Emmeria.

Except him.

…and a couple Malbolge drones waiting to be launched from hidden containers on the bay, but that was besides the point.

"Boss, you're the best!"

"Ilya! Where are we off to next?"

His previous squadron, Vampire team… his first true family other than Voychek. He went to hell and back with them, laughed with them, grew with them…

"…I think I would be able to move along with you, Ilya." Her face gleamed brightly with a smile that he had never seen appear on her before.

He clenched his eyelids shut.

He didn't regret disbanding them when he was assigned as Strigon's new leader. Knowing them, they would have sacrificed themselves in this battle to allow him to escape if they were still a legitimate squadron.

"Captain Pasternak! I've heard the rumors! I'm glad to have you here with us!"

"Captain, don't you have someone you cherish with all your heart?"

"Captain! This is Ludmilla — my one and only love."

Toscha, his trusty First Lieutenant and young enough to be called his baby brother, had a girl waiting for him to return alive. He had an entire future laid out for him, but if he died here and now, it would all be a waste to consider.

Pasternak closed his eyes in concentration.

The future. That was the reason to join Voychek, right? To protect the future; to pave the way for the next generations; to ensure that no matter the cost, the future would remain brighter than the golden king himself.

"I… love you… Ilya." She muttered with her dying breath.

And to rage.

To rage against the unfairness of the world, of those who accept cruelty as an absolute… All of it, the fuel to the radiant bloody light in his heart.

He would bear this burden alone. His previous comrades would live the rest of their lives in peace and prosperity.

It's why he sided with Dvornik. It's why he fought so hard and so fiercely to unite Estovakia once more.

"So this is my new toy?"

"You should be careful about your words, Pasternak. This isn't something that we'd want you to break."

His grip on the joystick tightened.

Malbolge, commence orbital divergence. He said into his comm, and less than ten seconds later, the many hidden drones launched into the sky, linking up with him in formation before orbiting around his customized Nosferatu.

The drones would act as his shield and decoys. Pasternak would then engage the enemy while they were occupied, before wreaking havoc among the formations with his advanced weaponry.

"We expect you to use its capabilities to the fullest. Failure is not tolerated. Understand, Pasternak?"

He scowled. The strategy completely contradicted his usual fighting style — there was no bravado, no elegant deception, no sense of self … only the illusion of efficiency that the higher ups back home worshiped more than money itself.

For a moment, his gaze darkened to a terrifying glare. He knew that true peace would not exist, as long as humanity continues to writhe in its own pointless discovery of progression…

"Captain!"

"Ilya!"

...Then a vision appeared in Pasternak's mind.

Toscha and Ludmilla, the two lovers who currently could not reach out to each other because of the war, were happily calling out to him while embracing each other in a field of white dandelions.

"Boss!" Toscha was smiling.

"Ilya." Ludmilla waved her hand.

The scene then changed to his old squadron comrades, laughing cheerfully as they helped rebuild Estovakia, paving bricks and roads with cheerful enthusiasm as the sun shone a little brighter.

And red ruby eyes in the middle of the crowd.

His gaze loosened a little.

All those years ago when he met Voychek, he didn't start off as a pilot right away — that only happened after Voychek trained him — but heshot up the ranks quickly in Dvornik's army and thrived as a commander during Estovakia's civil war.

He was called the troublesome 'genius' in the General's circle. And for good reason, because they hated him for being too effective.

Well, they weren't wrong about that. The battle where he crippled half of the Lyes Faction's total forces with his methodologies was quite unnecessary in hindsight. Even if he did it to feel better about himself.

Dvornik hated his methodologies, saying how it would halt Estovakia's unification with how many lives had to be snuffed out.

By then, Pasternak didn't even care anymore. He stepped down with Voychek and Vampire Team, and left it all behind as soon as the Eastern faction won.

Well, mostly. He still had his Ace piloting. And the most loyal of Vampire Team made it easy for him to keep their squadron paid and well fed.

But even if he had to sacrifice his own methodologies… it was always worth it in the end.

Vampire Team, safe.

Toscha, safe. Ludmilla, safe.

Voychek, safe.

…Maybe he should say something to Emmeria, too. Perhaps that way they'll pass his word to Toscha after the battle.

He chuckled and turned on his radio, setting the frequency to match the Emmerian AWACS' broadcasting signals. Once more, he was impressed at the sophisticated technological breakthrough of his Nosferatu, for it would have been impossible to do this with his previous aircraft.

A second later he tapped into the Emmerian air force's channels.

Garuda, are you getting this? He spoke into the comm with a smirk. It's not over yet.

He got a response immediately. What the-? Who is this!? The voice was immediately on edge, as expected.

He flipped a switch and the Nosferatu's computer HUD cleared up as its autopilot turned off. The real war has just begun.

Who the hell is this?! What are you talking about?!

Green boxes of Emmeria's forces finally appeared in his HUD. And there they were: Garuda team — Talisman and Shamrock — the two aces who injured Voychek and killed the previous Strigon leader.

Voychek was especially impressed back at the cafe with their performances. He mentioned how Estovakia would benefit greatly if they were on the same side.

Hmph. He wasn't wrong.

Probably.

Pasternak made a decision.

Corrupt governments and marred lands are no longer worth fighting to protect. He continued talking, pushing the throttle forward. There's only one thing left worth protecting now.

The Nosferatu shot forward in a burst of speed, dragging the drones behind in tow as it accelerated rapidly.

Unknown aircraft approaching fast! This may be an attack!

The light in Pasternak's eyes glowed brighter. ...and that's…the future.

The green boxes turned red.

Shit! I'm spiked-!

He pressed his thumb down.

[ Drive. Drive. ] The computer blared as Pasternak pressed the red button on his joystick.

From his cockpit, he felt the dozens of ADMM missiles rocket out of his fighter's slots, shaking the entire airframe as they shot out like flares before directly making a beeline to the locked-on targets.

Missile on your tail! Shake it off!

Releasing Flares! Move! Move! Get out of the way!

How many are there?! Where did those missiles come from?!

That's it… that's it… focus everything on me.

Pasternak chanted in his mind as he approached the center of Emmeria's formation. The initial salvo sent many of them scattering, likely avoiding his missiles in the process…

But that also opened up a path to their heart.

It's a fighter…! A fast one!

Damn right.

Pasternak pressed the red button again.

[ DRIVE. DRIVE. ] The Nosferatu's computer echoed back. More targets in his HUD turned red and he launched another salvo. The missiles swarmed out, changed vectors in an instant, and shot out in every direction, chasing every other jet like deadly mosquitoes.

It was one thing to engage an entire air battalion on your own. The amount of bravery and stupidity required to do so would be only admirable at best, since suicidal charges were nothing special.

But, to pierce their entire formation from the middle down and scatter every unit in one fell swoop…

Missiles approaching at high speed! Multiple missiles approaching! Evade! Evade!

SHIT! Break! Break!

Where?!

Two unknown missiles tracking me!

I can't evade the-! GAH-!

Two Emmerian aircraft exploded in giant fireballs. The rest darted left and right, up and down, aimlessly and frantically as their entire formation collapsed in a blink of an eye. In the midst of the chaos, Pasternak violently pulled up, allowing his Nosferatu to drift all the way up until he touched the first cloud layer. He slowed the jet down until it was practically hanging in the air, hovering menacingly above the mess below..

It's time to let my sins take reign. This is the inevitable fate Ulysses heralded in...

He glanced to his left, setting his eyes on the Ace team that made his junior worry so much.

...Unless if you can prove me wrong, Garuda.

The two special F-15s's chased after him from his left, heading straight towards Pasternak. Before long, the missile lock warning blared into his years — and he grinned .

Very well. Let's get a little rough, shall we?

He punched his throttle to the maximum. His engines burst to life again,shaking with power, propelling him to supersonic speed to signal the start of their deadly dance of death.

Talisman, let's go!

The two gave chase; they activated their afterburners but held their shots, only focussing on tailing him. Given the tone of voice that came out of the transmission, they took absolute caution in their pursuit, matching Pasternak's speed and intense turns to find a perfect opening shot.

…Come on.You can't expect to take me out with something as basic as that.

Pasternak glanced at the radar and slowed down a bit…

Now's our chance! Fox- WOAH!

The two elites suddenly broke away, dodging a stream of bullets just in time that came from their 9 o'clock.

What the-!? Drones! Enemy drones!

"Spread the enemy thin, then collapse on them with everything you have. Be the bait yourself if you have to." Pasternak said to Toscha as he pointed to the strategy map. "Works every time."

The Estovakian Ace's cauldron of Malbolge bats suddenly entered the fray from the side.

Since they hadn't entered the AO as the same time as Pasternak started his engagement, none of the Emmerian forces anticipated a larger advancement of UAVs coming in for support.

Said drones started to engage the still-scattered Emmerian forces, filling the air with even more chaos and deadly tracer trails as they chased down their targets.

They were outnumbered 2-to-1.

For Garuda Team, it was 3-to-1.

Where the hell did they come from?! The louder one, he assumed was Garuda 2, shouted, Dammit! Talisman, multiple drones on our six! He caught us!

They scattered and split up in hopes of escaping the swarm, but to no avail as the drones hounded them aggressively.

Pasternak grinned.

Now… let's see if you can conquer my encirclement… my fellow liberators of Gracemeria.

They're using auto-target guns! Jink! Jink! Get out of the way!

Holy shit! Shit!

Out of the corner of his eye, Pasternak quietly observed the other squadrons nearly crashing into each other as they nimbly avoided the deadly fire of bullets.

Stingray squadron, get out of the sky! You'll be sitting ducks!

No shit! You better get out of this alive, Ghost Eye!

Avalanche, MOVE!

What the fuck, Lanner!?

Windhover 4 is going down!

FUCK! Marigold! Put out a search and—

We're on it! Just focus on winning for now!

More chaos ensued for the Emmerian Air Force. Pasternak felt a heavy weight pulling down on his heart, clicking his tongue in annoyance as the tense radio chatter filled his ears.

Their reactions were genuine. They weren't filled with the indifferent hostility and bootlicking unlike the majority of Estovakia's pilots — they really cared for each other.

Saker! Go help Sky Kid- SHIT!

Sky Kid is hit-!

I'm okay! I can still fight! More importantly, we need to get those drones off of Garuda team!

That was some impressive comradery they possessed. How interesting.

Perhaps he would've had a drink with them if things were much different.

He turned his attention back towards Garuda Team.

We're fine, Sky Kid! Just focus on— WATCH OUT!

The two elites blasted their flares and rolled away just in time as more drones shot another stream of bullets at them. It wouldn't be long now until they got the hang of it, though — two more cycles and Pasternak figured they'd find a counter to the drones' attack patterns.

He wasn't going to let them have it, though.

Looking down, Pasternak saw the Garuda Leader continuing to dodge and narrowly avoid the drones' line of fire. The dark grey Eaglescreamed its engines and evaded more gunfire skillfully, trying to find the perfect angle for it to decelerate and break out of the encirclement...

...and arrived at that perfect angle. The perfect angle to shoot. The perfect angle to shake off a pursuing enemy. The perfect angle to escape the chokehold.

The same perfect angle that Pasternak predicted him to arrive at. As expected.

Talisman! Above!

The pilot called Shamrock shouted a warning to the Ace as he noticed the Nosferatu clinging right above his flightleader, but it was way too late.

Pasternak dove towards the quieter of the two elites from above, saving his ADMMs as he reached the perfect moment to shoot that would win him the battle… no… the entire war once and for all…

NO! Shamrock helplessly screamed in horror—

"I want to tell you this, Pasternak… Dvornik is planning something… and I'm worried for Toscha."

"Mhm, hm, same here. Dvornik can't help but station his ass on a throne of blood… but that also gets me excited."

"You better not think of causing another Lyles incident again."

"Hah! Nah, I'm not the same warmongering menace before you took me under your wing. You see, Voychek…"

Pasternak drifted the Nosferatu directly behind him… but he didn't fire his missiles, even when the Emmerian Ace was perfectly positioned to eat an entire salvo.

"…wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if I betrayed him?"

W-What…? The wingman stuttered in confusion. He's not… firing?

Come on, Garuda 1. I know you're better than this. He spoke into the comm. Why don't we take this dance somewhere else?

He pulled up, commanding the Nosferatu to climb at full throttle. Higher and higher he ascended until he circled above the clouds, waiting patiently with a heavy heart. Not long later, he saw a single grey F-15s burst out of the clouds as well, where it then stabilized itself while facing Pasternak head on.

I believe your call sign was Talisman. Pasternak greeted him as they approached each other. Mine is Vampire. How about we explore each other a bit more?

Talisman's only response was rolling his aircraft clockwise.

Good call. He grinned before rolling the Nosferatu to the opposite side. Show me a good time, Talisman.

The two aircraft passed each other at extreme speeds — the sonic booms of both aircraft collided, letting out a loud, harmless explosion that signaled the start of the duel.

The battle was reaching its climax.

---

One minute earlier:

As the mysterious Estovakian ace rocketed himself above the sky, the drones ceased to open fire on Talisman, focusing on Shamrock instead.

Talisman! Go! I'll be right behind you after I take care of these drones! Shamrock yelled, dodging another stream of bullets. Talisman didn't hesitate to pull up and chased after the dangerous bogey into the clouds.

Now that he was alone in the encirclement of drones, Shamrock cursed as the harassment of bullets increased in tempo. He wasn't new to this predicament, as he was once in the middle of a concentrated attack the day before… but the speed and efficiency of the drones made it especially hard to get a lock on without being penetrated with holes.

Not to mention that the high G's was taking a toll on his body. Shamrock could feel his chest compressing in on himself with every tight turn, threatening to collapse his consciousness… But then…

Hoorah! That's one down! A drone exploded in flames in the distance as a cheer from Avalanche filled the radio. Shamrock! Hang in there! We're gonna come out soon!

Shut up and focus on the fight! We can't let Talisman down! Not when we're so close to victory! Shamrock yelled through gritted teeth and concentrated seriousness, though his smile said otherwise about his true feelings.

Everyone! Destroy the encirclement! Ghost Eye ordered. We need to be there with Talisman no matter what!

Aye aye!

As the battle raged on, Shamrock continued to dodge and weave skillfully around the drone encirclement, narrowly avoiding death multiple times. By all means, the strain put on his body was immense and he didn't feel the Gs getting lighter…

Boom!

YES! Another one down! Windhover yelled in the background. Sky Kid!

An angry yell came through the radio. You don't have to tell me twice!

Boom, boom, BOOM!

Fuck yeah! Comms, this is Sky Kid, my squadron's broken through our encirclement! Shamrock, I'm coming over right now!

…And yet, the more he saw and heard his fellow wingmen fighting their hardest, the more he felt his body invigorating itself to counter the strain. The High G turns felt less of a hassle now, allowing Shamrock to suddenly snap awake… and then he could see.

The position of the drones on his radar; the way they lingered just inside his peripheral vision; Sky Kid and the rest in the distance coming towards him.

They all just felt so clear.

Took you guys long enough! He yelled into the comm, dodging another stream of bullets at a much faster pace this time. I hope the lot of you came out of that shitstorm unscathed!

You kiss your wife with that mouth? Come to me, and we'll make sure you see them by tonight!

Shamrock glanced at the drones hounding him. No... that alone isn't enough.

I've got a better idea! He shouted, gripping his joystick and jinked up , outmaneuvering the drones chasing him and aiming for the two drones that were harassing him from above…

I said… FUCK OFF! He fired two missiles… Boom! Boom! The drones exploded in a heap of black smoke and Shamrock pierced through the debris and soared even higher…

Shamrock! You've still got enemies on your-!

…before splitting the throttles of his jet, turning a full 180 degrees with barely any drift…

FOX THREE!

…and launching all his remaining XMAAs directly towards the pursuing drones just as they emerged from the smoke.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Even their advanced computer systems couldn't avoid a move like that.

Sky Kid felt his jaw drop. Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Shamrock, what the hell was that!?

That maneuver…! Only Talisman was able to do that before…! Hot damn, Shamrock! Ghost Eye yelled triumphantly.

Shamrock gasped for air as he leveled his aircraft out of that dive. Shut it, Ghost Eye! He wheezed out, ignoring the sweat trickling down his helmet. Talisman's gone up to duel that Estovakian! We need to get rid of those drones, NOW!

Not so fast! You're down to two missiles left. Ghost Eye suddenly ordered. We're still surrounded and outnumbered by Estovakian drones. Our goal right now is to completely annihilate whatever's engaging us!

But-!

We'll go to Garuda 1 after we cleaned up our end! And besides… Shamrock could have sworn he felt his AWACS smile softly behind the radio. …you believe in Talisman too, don't you?

He didn't need to be told twice. The confidence in Ghost Eye's voice was all it took to restore his focus. …Fine! Sky Kid!

Way ahead of you! His friend called out, tagging behind Shamrock with the rest of his squadron. They formed a small arrow-like formation and dove deep into the mess around them, aiming for the spot where the explosions and missile trails made the densest clouds of the gray sky.

---

[Drone capacity down to seventy-five percent.] The computer blared monotonously.

Hm. Faster than I thought. The Estovakian Ace grumbled. You guys are all insane, you know?

Talisman gave no response, for he had to bank right at full speed to barely avoid the incoming hail of ADMM missiles from evaporating his aircraft.

Pasternak suddenly appeared right in front of Talisman and shot a line of bullets towards him. The Emmerian barely dove out of the way, however…

Clank! Clank! Clank!

Three bullet holes pierced through his vertical stabilizers, shredding off a small piece of metal that went flying off the jet.

Either that, or your comrades are all idiots… though it's not like that's a bad thing, of course. Pasternak turned the Nosferatu around for another pass, loading up another salvo of his ADMM. For both Estovakia and Emmeria to blossom, one of their armies must evolve. To surpass what the traditions it has built itself upon, and completely change the course of history… for the better.

The Nosferatu's engines then opened and the advanced jet accelerated in a burst of speed, drifting itself around the sky, and within a few seconds Talisman's jet once again lined up in front of Pasternak's view.

And as you've already figured out, Pasternak grinned. If you can't crush me, you guys won't bloom.

The ADMMs launched. Once again the flaming arrows of death flew out of the Nosferatu, menacingly approaching the damaged Emmerian ace with a sudden vector change, and to which Talisman dodged by simply accelerating himself out of the way—

—and once again entered into Pasternak's fatal range.

For your prophesied rebirth of our nations… I am that final wall!

BRRRTTTT!

Cannon fire erupted from the Nosferatu, hailing traces of deadly hellfire down onto Talisman, who frantically tried to shake off the pursuit to no avail.

BRRRRTTTTT!

Clankclankclankclankclank!

More bullet holes appeared into the Eagle's chassis, though it did nothing to cause any real damage, for Talisman kept on turning and swerving as fast as he could. As the metal twisted and turned with every near miss, Talisman could only cling on for dear life as Pasternak relentlessly chased after him with ease. The roars of the engines, constantly on full throttle, howled the falsetto of their crescendoing battle of life and death.

This is AWACS! Garuda 1, Hang in there!

Talisman's eyes widened as he heard Ghost Eye's voice through the channel. He jerked the joystick even further into him, shooting up into the clouds to block his pursuer's view.

We're almost halfway through getting ourselves out of this mess, so listen up! Ghost Eye barked with worry in his voice. I've completed analysis of the enemy craft— Codename: Nosferatu. This plane's maneuverability is off the charts! Its only weakness is in its instability. You'll have to catch him off guard. Go! Take down Nosferatu. You're the only one who can—

He drowned out the rest of his AWACS' warnings as Pasternak cut through the clouds in pursuit, and Talisman clenched his teeth to dive out of gun range, cursing under his breath as the ever-increasing Gs began crushing his bones.

He pulled the Eagle left and as Pasternak overshot, Talisman went around to chase him. His HUD locked onto him but he was at a bad angle; he switched to his machine guns and fired as he chased, trying to outturn and somehow clip the Ace at full speed while the Gs threatened to implode his stomach.

As expected, the Nosferatu simply continued its turn quite nonchalantly as the tracers flew past harmlessly.

Fast. Pasternak commented as he outpaced him. You're better than me, you know. No wonder why Voychek spoke of you highly.

The red jet suddenly accelerated and drifted around again in a burst of speed, though Talisman immediately jinked the other way to avoid being caught off guard again.

Unfortunately for you, this aircraft and my pride won't allow that.

In response to that, Talisman turned around with an exceptionally tight turn (which had the Gs threaten to crush his spine) and fired a missile once he was locked on — but Pasternak had already fired a missile of his own.

I'd suppose it's not so different for you, either. Am I right?

The missiles collided, exploded mid-air, and their joust ended with them shooting past each other on opposite sides of the fireball.

Their duel continued with Talisman at a disadvantage and Pasternak consistently outmaneuvering him — When Talisman shot a missile, Pasternak would just outfly it. When Talisman chained his feints and baits to counter, Pasternak would see past it and counter with an impossible drift. When Pasternak chased and fired missiles, Talisman could only shake him off periodically before trying to take him out in a high-G turn, but there was a clear difference maneuverability between the two jets.

Like Ghost Eye said, taking Pasternak head on was suicide. He couldn't outmaneuver, outgun, or even outfly the Estovakian ace. Eagles were slower than vampires, after all.

But... vampires can be blinded.

He felt the gears turn in his head rapidly, feeling his eyes burn as something clicked in his head and then everything made sense. Gritting his teeth, Talisman pulled the joystick as close to him as possible, climbing up, up, up through the clouds. There was one more tactic that could work. Maybe.

---

Pasternak raised an eyebrow. Talisman's movements suddenly abandoned all frantic swerves and made a beeline straight up above the thick clouds. To most it was a desperate attempt of sorts to escape and would gladly take the opportunity to chase them down… but Pasternak knew it was obviously a trap.

His trustful intuition, as it was always right from the beginning, sent all but a small shiver down his back.

Well… that was a first.

[ Drone capacity down to thirty percent. ]

"Time's up, huh?" Pasternak smiled sadly as the green dots on his radar were disappearing quicker by the minute. "Hmph, I didn't want to stay here for any longer, either."

He glanced to the bottom of his radar, where the remaining Strigon team were quietly exiting the AO.

And Toscha was in the lead.

I'm good, but… even I can't predict how this surprise attack would turn out. That's why I left you out. You and… my vampire team.

A vocal member of Strigon, a remnant of his Vampire team, growled in anger. Dammit, boss! You're always-!

Boss, don't do this! Another wailed in despair.

So why!? Toscha yelled louder than the rest, his voice breaking apart. Captain, you're just going to…?

Oh come on, use your brains for once. Pasternak chuckled dangerously. Do you understand me, Captain Toscha of Strigon Team? Take all the men with you and escape.

He was met with silence as the other members in his squadron felt the reality of the situation sink in.

You're all simple idiots, which means I can trust you. Maybe just for a little bit. Understand? You must absolutely escape. This is an order.

They would return to Estovakia and, considering how Toscha was an emotional idiot, disband the moment they land. Some would surrender themselves to Emmeria, some would still fight for the doomed Dvornik, and some would wander around the wastelands to search their path of life.

And his vampire team would return to their sanctuary… Perhaps that was the best outcome he could have hoped for.

He felt ruby eyes stare at him. From where, he didn't really know, but her gaze was comforting nevertheless.

Fine, then.

Trying to lay out a trap for me? The glint in Pasternak's eyes gleamed a small, but radiant, vibrant, and beautifully bright shine. Alright. I'll bite.

He chased after Talisman, throttling his engines to full power and it roared in furious pursuit, shaking the entire airframe as he pushed above the clouds…

Only to be met by a disappointing nothing as Garuda 1 was no longer in sight. His IFF responder was still working on the radar, showing his position just ahead of Pasternak, and yet the Estovakian still couldn't see him.

'With the way you were damaged, you would still be in the clouds…' Pasternak thought silently, looking to his left at the clouds below him. 'Unless…' He craned his head to the right, quickly towards the sun, squinting his eyes until they were nearly shut…

A gray form barely streaked through the yellow rays of the sun. Oddly enough, it grew larger by the second, though Pasternak still couldn't make out what—

[ Warning. Enemy Lock. ]

Ah. So that's what you were waiting for. Pasternak grinned as his radar-lock warning suddenly blared into his ears. Not bad at all.

[ Missile. Missile. Missile. ]

From his radar's display, Pasternak saw multiple missiles, type XMAAs, all making a converging spearhead heading directly for his Nosferatu.

'Heh.' Pasternak blinked, and a glint of light shone back from his eyes in focus. He dove and throttled his engines to the fullest and the missiles gave chase.

"Hrk-!" Pasternak grunted as he was finally on the defensive, prancing through the skies and the smokey missile trails. With a skillful spin, a jumping turn, followed by an upside-down twist that resembled a spiral, he let his instincts carry his movements in this dance of death. Veins bulged and pulsed through his eyes; something popped in his nose and he tasted copper in his mouth.

Perhaps this was what it felt like to be on the receiving end of the ADMM. How unfortunate that he couldn't use any flares in this prototype.

How exhilirating.

With a single twist of the stick, the Nosferatu suddenly switched its angle, bleeding its speed to below unflyable velocity and yet it was still unwavering — and with a sudden blast of the engines it suddenly switched its heading angle and shot to the right with a burst of speed.

The remaining missiles swerved as tight as possible at the sudden movement, only to collide with themselves and explode in a futile effort to chase after him. Pasternak continued on going up at full speed, feeling his heart and lungs clench against the crushing G-force of his turns.

As the vibrating of his aircraft eased out, he chuckled with a small cough into the comm. Nice try, Garuda, but it's my tu-?

But his next words died in his throat. His eyes widened and time seemed to stop. His entire body screamed 'DANGER! DANGER!' but it was too late for his instinct to take over because-!

Talisman was already in front of him.

Waiting.

Like an Eagle with its claws open after quietly observing. Learning.

Guns blazing.

BRRRRRTTTTTT!

"!" Pasternak's body took over instinctively, just barely reacting in time for his Nosferatu to dodge out of the way—

—But it wouldn't obey.

Pasternak's Nosferatu was the fastest, deadliest, and the most maneuverable prototype fighter jet developed by Estovakia. A one-of-a-kind, modeled specifically after the Aigaion, unmatched in everything…

All except for stability.

That meant it was prone to drifting when making tight high-G turns. And Talisman caught him with the top of his fuselage wide open for the beating.

CLANK!CLANK!CLANK!CLANK!CLANK!CLANK!CLANK!

A hail of bullets penetrated through the jet's body. They tore and shred through the ADMM magazines — disabling them — and then into the left engine — incapacitating it — and KA-

-BOOM!

The following explosion sent him flying from his seat and his head and helmet crashed into the canopy's ceiling — Crash! — and suddenly everything turned black for a small moment before he gasped for air and-!

"Argh!..." Pasternak groaned as the entire jet convulsed, shaking the entire cockpit and blared alerts into his helmet. His vision was blurry from how violently he was jerked from the impact of the explosion. The taste of copper lingered in his mouth — were they all from his nostrils? Ew. — and his ears rang and hurt like hell. Maybe they were bleeding, too.

[ Combat damage at ninety-five percent. ]

Nope. Not bleeding. He wouldn't have been able to hear his computer otherwise.

[ All armaments destroyed. Left engine destroyed. Fuel at ten percent. ] The computer blared even more obnoxiously. [ Structural integrity at ten percent. Drone capacity down to five— drone capacity down to three— drone capacity depleted. ]

His vision soon cleared up and the ringing in his ears finally stopped. Breathing heavily, Pasternak saw that his jet was no longer flying at full speed — and was now cruising harmlessly in the skies while trailing heavy smoke from his back.

He tilted his joystick and the Nosferatu groaned as it turned. He wondered how the frame was still intact after all that, considering how Talisman practically ripped his structure's integrity to shreds.

The enemy ace has been crippled! Their AWACS' voice reverbed through the radio with a glorious laugh. All forces, victory is just in sight!

Pasternak ignored the radio and felt the last of his headache clear up. He rested his head against the seat of the cockpit, completely exhausted.

Talisman was an incredible opponent.

So, that was that. He'd lost. The only defeat he'd ever had, and it was achieved because he decided to follow his pride. Funny. It always worked before. Maybe Emmeria was destined to break that streak.

He was going to die.

That's the last of the drones! Garuda 2's voice — Shamrock, was it? — shouted hopefully. Pasternak heard more yells of triumph emerge from the other units. There's one more enemy remaining! Everyone-!

Wait. A deep, gruff unknown voice came through the channels. Shamrock. Leave this one to me.

With those two sentences, the entire Emmerian channel quieted down. Even the victorious roars from Shamrock were quickly silenced at the sudden reveal. …Talisman. Is that… you?

'So that's how Garuda 1 sounds.' Pasternak weakly chuckled. Perhaps there was more to this man than he'd thought.

Ace of Estovakia. Talisman ignored his wingman. Of all the battles that I've fought… only you were this close to shooting me down.

[ Fuel capacity at ten percent. ] The computer blared again.

…and yet, for some reason, you allowed yourself to be beaten. I could tell that you could have ended the fight in a heartbeat. Talisman flew past Pasternak's broken jet and circled around, leveling just next to the Estovakian ace. So I have to ask… why?

A chuckle went through the channel, sending uneasy shivers down every Emmerian pilots' spines.

It's obvious, isn't it? Pasternak turned to the right to face Talisman's cockpit. From the start, I had no intentions on shooting you down in the first place.

And yet you incapacitated half of our forces, you jerk! Avalanche yelled. So how does that count to—

Shut up, small fry. Pasternak snapped back with a deep growl. I wasn't talking to you.

The man who beat him for the first defeat in his life was having a meaningful convesation with him. They had no right to interrupt.

He could practically feel the others gasp at his sudden change in tone.

Where was I... Of all the battles that you liberators fought, it can be said that all of your strategies relied on Garuda themselves. He continued to talk to the Emmerian Ace. Frankly, if it weren't for their presence, I doubt the lot of you would have taken out Aigaion… No. You would have been wiped out even before then.

He'd seen the damage reports. Emmeria may have been incredibly strong, but Garuda was their spearhead. Anyone else and it would have ended horribly for them.

That's enough, you two. Their AWACS rudely cut in. Estovakian aircraft, eject over the ocean and surrender. You will comply or we will use deadly—

I decline.

—force, and hereby- wait, what?

Pasternak grinned. It's not like I have a choice, either. The designers told me this prototype did not install an eject system.

Doctor Reiher was just silly like that. For someone so professional she knew how to lighten the mood.

Wha- but you…!

Now would you please… quiet down. As you've all figured, I don't have much time left. There is one more thing I have to say to Talisman. He cracked a smile as the AWACS obeyed.

[ Fuel capacity down to five percent. ]

'Not much time now…' Pasternak grimaced. Garuda. You may not know me and why I chose to fight… why Estovakia chose to fight. But the reason why I let you win is because Estovakia is, at its core, full of those who have hearts smaller than that of fleas.

He took a deep breath.

Estovakia is doomed. And there's no changing that.

Especially with Dvornik in charge.

For that reason, I sought you out and engaged for the purpose of gauging your strength — to see if you among all others could bloom… Pasternak sighed, …and naturally, you've proven that you can shoulder the burden of a true ace.

[ Fuel capacity, depleted. ]

The damaged Nosferatu spluttered its last sparks of thrust remaining. Without any fuel left, Pasternak finally felt his aircraft descend slowly.

General Dvornik has one more thing up his sleeve, my Liberators of Gracemeria . The Nosferatu's nose started tilting down as gravity took its hold. If you take my warning well… then watch over Toscha for me.

The plane was now in a dive, heading right towards the Estovakian embassy in the middle of the city. Pasternak simply let go of his joystick and let his body become weightless as the ground started appearing larger and larger.

He glanced at the radar. Not a single green dot remained on the screen.

The Strigon team has left the combat airspace. He smiled. Toscha was smart. He would know how to live for himself and Ludmilla. And with the remains of his Vampire team left over to protect them, it was certain that the later newly wed couple would remain happy for the rest of their lives.

We've won…

Pasternak closed his eyes as the altitude warnings blared in his ears.

"I said you'd end up suffering twice as much as anyone else."

Crimson ruby eyes gazed at him from the dark.

"But still, thanks for getting angry for my sake, Ilya."

He huffed. "It wasn't just for you."

"Then, for our sake."

"Quiet, you. I was just doing whatever I wanted to piss people off."

"Is that so?" She stuck her tongue out.

He walked over and lifted her chin. "...I've missed you. Let's go to our sanctuary." He spoke, letting his gaze soften in her eyes' red bloom.

But surprisingly, she gently lowered his hand.

"Not yet, Ilya." She smiled and planted a small kiss on his lips. "You still have a role to play."

[ EMERGENCY OVERRIDE — EJECT POD ACTIVATE! ]

'Huh?'

All of the sudden the canopy of the cockpit launched out, and Pasternak felt himself being propelled out with the force of a rocket — and then he was floating above the city streets with a weight pulling his seat up.

'What.' Pasternak stared blankly into the air on his parachute. 'They told me they didn't install an eject system.'

Clearly someone lied to him about the jet's schematics.

Dammit, Doctor Reiher.

Kaboom!

Off in the distance, a large ball of fire emerged from the ground. The remains of his Nosferatu had crashed into the embassy, crumbling the building into a heap of fiery rubble and black smoke.

His lips curled slightly upwards. He really hated that place. May all the paperwork inside there burn to cinders.

Hopefully there weren't any civilians near the blast zone. That would be quite unfortunate.

A moment later, he touched down on the ground rather roughly — the inertia made him tumble over on the street. Grunting, he took off his straps and took off his helmet, euphorically inhaling at the chill of the air as it ran through his sweat-slicked hair.

'…How annoying.' Pasternak scoffed.

He would never hear the end of it from Toscha. That is, if they both survive the end of the war. Dvornik had a secret project in development that even the highest brass didn't know the details of. But whatever it was, both nations were still in danger.

At any rate, he had to get off the street and find someone to meet up with. Voychek was probably still in the area, but after all the chaos… who knew where the officer went?

Pasternak pursed his lips. Assuming Voychek was still alive, he would be among one of the scattered Estovakian groups waiting to surrender. His injured leg wouldn't make him a threat to anyone, so he should-

"-Help!"

He perked up at the tiny voice. The cry for help was young, coming from a child… and it was coming right from the now-destroyed embassy.

Ah.

He started running towards the screams.

"-elp! HELP! SOMEBODY! H-HELP!"

Turning right into the Embassy gates, Pasternak sprinted towards the leveled building… and saw a crying young girl kneeling above someone half-buried in the fiery rubble.

She reached out her small hands to him. "HEL-! MISTER! MISTER!" The girl croaked with tears rolling down her face. "M-my mo-mommy!"

Pasternak quickly ran to who he assumed was the girls' mother, who was currently breathing slowly with a bleeding wound on her head and her legs trapped beneath some wreckage. Scowling, he cursed himself and quickly started removing the rubble around her legs.

"Mommy!"

Once her legs were clear, the bleeding woman groaned in pain as he lifted her up on his back. Grunting, he walked her out of the embassy grounds — the young crying girl was holding her mother's dangling arm — and gently set her down on the sidewalk once they were out on the street.

"Mommy! Mommy!" The child shook her mother's unconscious form. A few shakes later and she did wake up, although weakly and was only able to put on a smile and gently touch her daughter's face.

"Thank… you…" She whispered as she set her eyes on Pasternak. "You… saved… my life…"

His gaze softened. "You're not out of this yet. You need water." Pasternak took out his canteen and let the water gently flow into the woman's mouth, to which she coughed before slowly drinking.

After the canteen was emptied, the young child took her mother in a big gentle hug, to which Pasternak silently looked away to give them some privacy.

CRACKKLLEEEKSHHHHH!

Pasternak looked back at his destruction and grimaced. What remained of the embassy just collapsed in on itself, turning the grounds into a blazing dust cloud. If he were a minute slower, both the woman and child would have been crushed beneath the wreckage.

How infuriating.

"Mister…" The woman weakly groaned and Pasternak turned his attention on her. "Are you alright?"

Pasternak stared at her. "You shouldn't worry about me. I'm fine and I can get you some help, but you should be resting."

She looked like she was about to protest, but a sob from her daughter quickly made her relax onto the ground. "...Thank you. You're so… kind."

"You're so kind, Ilya."

"Hm, I suppose so." Pasternak shrugged. "If you don't mind me asking, what are your names?"

"I'm Monica. My daughter, Jessica — well, you've already met." She gestured weakly to her daughter, who tightened their hug. "Ow, Jessica. Don't kill me, okay?"

"Never!" She mumbled loudly into her mother's sleeve. "You won't die!"

Monica only chuckled. "My husband, Marcus… he was in the skies today. Knowing him, he'll be rushing into my arms the moment he sees… so I have to see him, no matter what." She smiled at Pasternak. "Can you tell us your name? I wouldn't like it if I forgot the person who saved us.

Pasternak grinned back. "Pasternak. Ilya Pasternak."

---

"Ow, ow ow ow!" Monica seethed through her teeth. Her brain had finally processed the pain of her broken legs, though she was lucky her bones weren't completely fractured. Pasternak had wrapped some parts of his parachute to make a splint for both of her legs to prevent any further damage from taking place.

"You really had to crash into the embassy, now did you?" She tried to laugh, though what came out were only huffs.

"I have a particular hatred for some parts of my nation, so yes." Pasternak chuckled. "Sorry about that. Hopefully your husband won't mind leaning down even further to kiss you."

"Why do you hate your country, Mister?" The daughter holding Pasternak's hand looked up with curious eyes. "I thought all the soldiers from Estovakia loved their country!"

He looked down at her. "Most soldiers do, but even some do not like who controls the country. I am one of them." He flashed her a small smirk. "Do you think it's funny?"

She giggled. "I think so!"

"We're almost there. The hospital is just down the road." Monica said, grimacing as another pulse of pain washed over her. "Oh Golden King, please let Marcus be safe…"

"Why were you near the embassy, anyway? I thought all civilians were taking shelter underground or in the hospital."

He felt Monica look away in embarrassment. "Er…"

"Now that I think about it, the building burned up way too fast." Pasternak hummed. "Almost as if someone had slathered the floors with gasoline…"

"Momma wanted to say hello to papa!" Jessica beamed with a smile that just seemed a bit too disturbing. "We both wanted to show papa we were proud!"

He chuckled. "How cheerful of you."

A half hour later, they finally reached Gracemeria's main hospital. As expected, the hospital set up the entire block around itself as its base of operations — dozens if not hundreds of wounded, both Emmerian and Estovakian, settled on the ground as doctors and nurses ran back and forth among the masses.

"Hey, you!" A commanding voice called out from the entrance. Within moments three soldiers rushed up and drew their rifles at him. "Stop right there!"

Pasternak obeyed the order while Jessica clutched his leg.

"The woman's wounded! Stretcher, now!" The voice from the guardpost yelled, and soon enough Pasternak could make out a stretcher coming out of the hospital entrance. "You — bring the child and the injured woman here. Slowly."

Pasternak did as he asked until the hospital's personnel arrived and adjusted the stretcher. "Her legs are broken from the rubble. She also has a concussion and some first-degree burns." He said as he gently let them take Monica in.

"Thank you. We'll take it over from here." A doctor bowed without taking a second glance at him and pointed towards his assistants. "Take her to Room 3a. Prepare an extra seat for the child."

"Yes, sir!"

As they started moving into the hospital, Pasternak was about to follow them before the three soldiers stood in his way with guns raised.

"Hands in the air, Stovie."

"No!" Jessica screamed and let go of Pasternak's leg, raising her arms wide in between the soldiers and Pasternak. "Don't take him!"

The soldier in the center softened his gaze at the girl. "Miss, I'm sorry about this, but we have to take him in for the night. We will just ask him some questions and then you can see him tomorrow, okay?"

Pasternak held back a snort.

"No!" She widened her stance and looked at the soldiers with even brighter eyes. "He saved my life! You can have him later, but not now! How about tomorrow!?"

The soldiers looked at each other for a tense second. Then another.

"Alright, fine." They lowered their guns. "But only for today. He will be gone with us tomorrow. Got it?"

"O-okay!" Jessica sniffled as tears ran down her face. "Thank you, misters!"

"Let's go, Jessica. Let's not keep your mother worried." Pasternak patted her head and smiled. "Thanks a lot. You did great."

She beamed back with a blushing grin. "Mhm!"

One of the soldiers put a hand on Pasternak's shoulder as they walked past. "Don't try anything in there. We've got our eyes on you."

"Who, me? I don't even have a weapon on me."

"Tch." The soldier clicked his tongue. "Whatever. Go."

His flight suit did track some eyes as he walked down the hallway, but other than that, nobody really bothered him.

Her bed was cramped in a room with other patients, but still spacious enough for Pasternak and Jessica to stand by her side as one of the doctors inspected her broken legs.

"...and no internal bleeding. You were very lucky to have your bones broken so cleanly, Miss. Unfortunately you'll likely be on a wheelchair for the next few months or so." The doctor said as he finished his checkup. "I apologize, but I have to look at the other patients now."

"That's alright. Do your best, doc!" Monica weakly made a thumbs-up and smiled at the doctor's low chuckle.

After the doctor left, Monica turned towards her daughter. "I heard what happened at the gate."

Jessica started sniffling again.

"You're so brave… you're just like your daddy."

"Wahhh!" She bawled into Monica's arms, "I was so scared! I didn't want Ilya to get taken away!"

"And you didn't let them. I'm so proud of you." Monica gleamed at her daughter.

Jessica sobbed into her mother's arms and stayed there, leaning into her comfort until she was too tired to cry.

"I guarantee it'll take about another hour or so until your husband finds you." Pasternak said after a while. "Do you want me to stay by your side, or…?"

"I don't really mind." Monica stroked the back of Jessica's head with her free hand. "My husband might think otherwise, though."

"Right."

"Stay, Ilya…" Jessica tiredly whined. "Don't go…"

"...alright, fine, but I'll leave once your dad shows up, okay?"

She started giggling, to which Pasternak started snickering, to which Monica started chuckling, and then they found themselves laughing for no reason at all.

---

A few hours later, after a long talk about their lives, the doors of the main hospital opened with a heavy bang.

"My wife! My daughter!" A young, frantic voice rang through the hospital halls. "Has anyone seen my wife and daughter!?"

"Sir! Please calm-"

"You! You're a doctor! Do you know where Monica Lampert and Jessica Lampert are?!"

"Sir, please wait! You need-"

Pasternak glanced at the hallway where the voices were coming from. "I'm guessing that's your husband out there?"

Monica blushed. "I told you we were madly in love. I'm glad he hasn't changed."

The commotion outside got a little bit louder.

"I suppose it's my cue to leave." Pasternak poked Jessica's cheeks. "Hey, wake up. Your daddy's here."

"Hnrgg… w-wha?" Jessica slowly blinked her eyes open before widening in realization. "Wait! Daddy's here!?"

Pasternak shrugged. "Almost. He hasn't found you yet."

Whatever she was going to say was kept shut as Pasternak interrupted the girl swiftly. With his pointer on her forehead, he gently pushes her back to a seated position. "Now, now. Don't get too excited yet. I'm not supposed to meet your dad, remember?"

"But I-!"

"I know," Pasternak breaks her off once more with a soft voice and an understanding smile. "But maybe for another time?"

With a dejected look and shoulders curled inward, Jessica nodded. "I just don't wanna forget you…"

"It'll be okay. I promise that." He patted her head. "Go hug your father, okay? He's been dying to see you."

She blushed heavily and nodded. "Mhm!"

"Don't charm my daughter too much, Mister Pasternak." Monica deadpanned. "She's too young for these feelings."

"Yeesh, way to kill the mood, huh?"

They shared a brief laugh.

"No but seriously, you should probably leave now."

"Got it. Tell Marcus I said hello." Pasternak stood up and walked towards the window. They were still on the first floor, so it was a pretty good escape.

"Ilya!" Jessica smiled with determination, "Thank you!"

Monica gave him a thumbs up.

Chuckling, Pasternak waved back and jumped out the window, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

As soon as he landed, he heard the squealing of shoes as someone entered the room, and then a gasp of shock.

"O-oh my God! Jessica!"

"Daddy!"

"Jessica!"

Pasternak slowly peeked at them from the window, watching the pilot named Marcus hug his daughter who he hadn't seen in months. Quite interesting how his voice sounded just like Shamrock.

"Jessica… Oh Jessica… You're safe…" The young man turned towards his injured wife with an even more pained expression. "Oh, Monica… baby…"

"I'm a little battered up, but I can still handle a hug." Monica reached out to Marcus from her bed as tears flowed out of her eyes. "Come here, you idiotic crybaby…"

Marcus gently lowered his daughter and hugged Monica gentlier. "I was so worried… when I heard you weren't home, I…"

"Shhh… it's okay." She laughed through her tears and gently stroked Marcus' tear-soaked cheeks. "You're okay."

They broke the hug and kissed; tears dripped onto the hospital bed as the couple finally ended their period of isolation — all while Jessica squealed "Eww!" and laughed at the sight of her mom and dad sharing their well-deserved love.

Pasternak looked away with a sad smile.

'Was this what you wanted to show me?' He looked at the sky, his gaze piercing the clouds beyond. 'Was this why you told me I couldn't see you just yet?'

The clouds gave no answer.

'Of course you won't say anything.' He rolled his eyes. 'You're always like this.'

He started walking away from the hospital, taking the side road that had no presence of any Emmerian soldiers. It was oddly easy to sneak out, almost as if there were an ambush waiting right for him, but he hummed on anyway and fate let him stride on away.

---

The sun set a little later.

While the skies were dark, it couldn't be said for the city itself. Upon the clearing of the rubble, the snuffing out of the last Estovakian resistances, the fast recovery of the injured, and the full-scale retreat of every Estovakian military unit back into their homeland, the tens of thousands of civilians set out to the streets to cheer and celebrate the arrival of their long-awaited victory.

And what…

"MAY- THE SUN- SHINE ABOVE!"

"TO OUR- LUCKY STARS- BEYOND!"

"HIP HIP!"

"HOORAHH!"

…a glorious,

"UPON- 'R GOLDEN HEARTS-!"

"-GLORY TO THE GOLDEN KING!"

"HIP HIP!"

"HOORAAHHH!"

…triumphant return of a night it was.

"HOOORRAAAAHHHH!" The city streets roared, shook, and vibrated with celebrations all throughout the night. The militia paraded and drove with the crowd throwing and showering hundreds of bouquets and confetti onto them. The infantry blushed while the civvies displayed all sorts of shameless acts as celebrations for the returning army… and the night continued on vigorously as Gracemeria partied itself inside out.

Pasternak, meanwhile, was laying low. After stealing picking up a backpack and some clothes from a ruined store, he took his time sitting on a bench at the Gracemeria train station.

What for? Even he furrowed his eyebrows at his lack of thought. He should have fled the capital by now, heading somewhere to the Emmerian countryside and live as a farmer for the rest of his life. And yet…

He looked around the barren train station. Everybody else was outside on the streets and celebrating the return of their militia, while all around him was a cold, quiet emptiness. So quiet in fact, that it wouldn't be difficult to think this place was abandoned.

…He exhaled slowly. Something was off. He should have died earlier and yet he still lived. His purpose was already fulfilled, so why was he still here?

Hadn't he killed enough? Did the world still have a stage for The Bloodsucker of Estovakia to live? A role for him to play that didn't end in tragedy?

Why had fate granted him this… absurd second chance?

WOOOSSHHH!

His thoughts were interrupted by the roars and whistles of Emmeria's air force streaking through the sky. The cheering on the ground grew even louder as their heroes passed by, undoubtedly incredibly grateful for their efforts in driving away their invaders.

The scene was beautiful, yes, but… Pasternak still felt a sore joint throbbing at the back of his neck.

Of course it did. Dvornik was still alive. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

"...Hm. So? What's the verdict?" Pasternak let his eyes gaze back. "My fate… are you going to take my head or not? If you do, you'll die here too. Your path of blood will end here. Though that might be in everybody's interests." He chuckled slowly.

The air became even more silent.

"I came here to take your head if you didn't have any reason for your actions." The General stated. "But hearing Richard's explanation is enough to save you from punishment. Lorenz Ridel, put away your gun."

"Really?" Pasternak smiled. "I thought Richard's excuse was pretty half-assed."

"B-Boss!"

Dvornik ignored that and stood up. "There's one more reason why I'm pardoning you."

"?" The nervous men behind Pasternak confusedly looked at their general.

"Your accomplishment in crushing the LUF's army." The general's eyes looked distant. "I definitely didn't think the Pasternak army alone would be able to take down the headquarters of their commander-in-chief. Our own commander-in-chief, Markov, deemed your success to be immeasurably important. After considering all these details, I've decided to pardon you."

Dvornik and his bodyguards turned around and were just about to leave until Pasternak spoke up. "You sure it's okay to leave me as one of your three Great Heavens?"

The General looked back with a glare.

"If you want, I'll step down. You won't have to deal with me any longer." Pasternak continued to provoke.

"...The strength of the three Great Heavens is essential to conquering all of Estovakia. That hasn't changed. That title still remains in your care for now."

Dvornik then stomped onto the ground with his right leg, trembling with incredible anger. " HOWEVER! Engrave this in your hearts! The next time you do something so reckless, we won't have a civil discussion. Your head will roll before you can even say a word!"

Lorenz Ridel glared back at Pasternak as they started walking away again. "And next time, if you put your feet up on the table like that in front of the General, I'll cut them right off. Remember this, Pasternak!"

The officers under Pasternak all fell on their backs, exhausted, relieved, and unbelieving that they were still alive. "Holy… we're saved…"

Pasternak stared at the back of Dvornik's head with his bright eyes until he was no longer in view.

That man had already accomplished his goal of conquering all of Estovakia, but even he realized his precious nation was unsaveable without another civil war starting in the process. It was simply impossible to resurrect the country back to before Ulysses ravaged its soil.

So it wasn't really a surprise for Pasternak when Dvornik decided to conquer Emmeria in an effort to join both nations as one.

But now that he failed… Perhaps the warlord wouldn't accept such a crushing defeat.

Suddenly, the air raid siren started blaring. The civilians looked up at the sky in confusion, wondering if it were a false alarm, before the faint sound of an explosion vibrated through the streets.

Boom!

Well, wasn't that some convenient timing.

The crowd let out a small scream before everyone quickly scattered and took shelter. Some ran into the abandoned train station and took cover underneath the unmoving carriages.

"Enemy air raid in effect! Enemy air raid in effect! This is not a drill! All non-combatants take cover and do NOT leave until the siren has stopped!"

Pasternak sighed and joined them, walking towards an open spot underneath a small opening between two train cars. Above him, the roars of Emmerian fighter jets grew more intense as the night sky was filled with explosions again… except this time they weren't fireworks.

He scowled. Dvornik just played his last hand.

Dvornik was using the last of his arsenal in a desperate attempt to level Gracemeria. He'd seen the designs before. Something of this scale could rival the aftereffects of Ulysses on Emmeria twice over.

Unluckily for him, Pasternak had enough of war. He may have been forged out of blood, but Dvornik placing himself on a throne made of blood meant only one thing:

The General had to die.

It felt reassuring to know that Talisman was here to stop him.

---

[The Red Alert has been called off. I repeat, the Red Alert-]

The air raids suddenly eased up like a passing shower. Judging by the sounds of the explosions, Pasternak deduced the city had not been harmed at all… although the same couldn't be said for the air force who were still on patrol for the night.

Climbing out of his side of the train tracks, he stretched — and after a brief yawn Pasternak climbed back onto the platform with a light frown.

Before he got demoted to Lieutenant Commander, Pasternak of the Estovakia's three Great Heavens had a chance to see the other two "Great Heavens": The first being the Aigaion supercarrier — a flying airship that forced the retreat of Emmeria's entire army in the first offensive, and the second heaven being…

"Chandelier." Dvornik grumbled. "When Emmeria has been dissolved and linked with us, we'll need a way to sustain ourselves. The nuclear turbine generators of the decommissioned Atmospheric Canon would provide nearly endless electricity, and if we are down to our last legs, it can quickly be repurposed…"

…for long-range cruise missile attacks that can level entire capital cities in a matter of minutes.

Pasternak clicked his tongue. Dvornik must've been seriously desperate if he activated Chandelier on the same day of losing Gracemeria. Who knew that the charismatic general he once swore allegiance to turned out to be a sore loser of all things…

"...I was invited to a ceremony at the base two years ago, I remember seeing you there. You were his teacher, weren't you?"

Pasternak perked up from his seat. There was a small commotion at the train station's cafe just a few meters away, and while he could barely make out the words, the accent was oddly familiar.

"Yes."

"And it is true you are no longer flying…"

"Correct."

His eyes lit up in recognition and he stood up, wiping off the dust off his clothes with a smile and picking up his backpack. He slowly walked to them, careful not to interrupt their conversation.

"So then, you must have come here on ground duty… and now, you've grown closer to those children."

The Estovakian woman was kneeling towards an older Estovakian officer, who was clearly distraught over something , as shown in his pale face. The blonde woman next to them stood silently, though she was nodding patiently with how the conversation was going.

"I was foolish. I carelessly crossed over to this side of the border, but I was fortunate enough to meet Melissa on the way. We have grown to be very close…"

The Estovakian woman stood up and looked at the blonde woman. "Yes. If I had not been driving through the wide-open plains, here in your country, we would have never crossed paths." She looked back at the officer. "You've lost your wings, but you've gained the land in return! Now you can see the sky as these people do, the people living here on this land! Voychek, are you really going to sit here and let the sky fall down on these people?"

Silence deafened the station for a second… then two… then three… all while the pale officer sat in his chair like a statue with a heavy frown on his face. And then, when he opened his eyes, the officer's gaze regained that glint that Pasternak grew so fond of over the years.

"Well, would you look at that." Pasternak spoke through the silence and immediately surprised the adults. "So you can still make that kind of face, old man."

"...Pasternak?" Voychek's gaze almost wavered, but still held on with that same protective determination. "I… I thought you died. The battle-"

"I survived. Don't ask me how." Pasternak turned towards the bolder one of the two women. "It's been a while, Ludmilla."

"Ilya!" The Estovakian woman rushed towards him and gave him a small hug. She pulled away just as fast as the hug came and looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please tell me. Is Toscha-?"

"I sent him away. Knowing him, he would have refused Dvornik's desperate plan. Though apart from that I don't know anything else."

She sighed in relief. "So he's… alive…"

Pasternak turned to the blonde woman, who was nervously aware of his presence.. "I'm sorry for intruding on your conversation, by the way. My name is Ilya Pasternak — an old friend of these two."

A nod from Voychek was all that it took for her to loosen the tension in her body. "I am Melissa. Voychek and Ludmilla seem to trust you, so I only hope you are willing to cooperate with us."

Pasternak nodded back with his usual smile. He turned around to Voychek, noticing his dusty clothes and the odd briefcase.

"Now that we've finished our heartfelt reunions… I wonder what that briefcase is for, Voychek."

He didn't miss the way all three of them tensed, as if he had intruded on something extremely confidential, something that could completely defy fate and flip the world upon its head.

It wasn't hard to piece together what it was all about.

"Do you realize you three are incredibly horrible at hiding information?" Pasternak teased, grinning slightly to show his perfect white teeth. "I can tell that whatever's inside that briefcase holds the outcome of this war itself."

"Pasternak, please wait!" Ludmilla frighteningly shook in her feet as sweat drops slid down the back of her neck. "We-! It's not what it looks-!"

"Oh, but I think it's exactly what it looks like." Pasternak grinned even wider. "You're thinking of betraying Estovakia, aren't you?"

Ludmilla trembled. Melissa glared. Voychek scowled . The three's reactions only solidified Pasternak's claims. If either one of the three had a weapon by now, Pasternak guessed he would've been threatened to comply, or taken out.

Probably the latter.

"Relax, folks. I'm in the same boat with the rest of you." He raised his hands up in a careless surrender, stretching one of his usual grins across his mouth. "You remember what I said before, right, Voychek?"

The old officer's eyes widened. "You don't mean-?"

Pasternak put on a dangerous gaze. "Dvornik's purpose in life has already been achieved. He doesn't have the right to dream any further. Show them what's inside, Old man."

Regaining his composure, Voychek swallowed and opened the briefcase. A small laptop was directly integrated into its shell, and after typing in the password into the interface, Voychek turned the screen around for the three adults (and Melissa's daughter who curiously walked by) to see.

"This is the weapon that is heading towards the city as we speak." The older officer said with steadiness. "Since it was built in haste, parts of it are still incomplete. Its vulnerable points are described in this data. I need you to get this information to the pilots in the air somehow."

As if on cue, the roars of the Emmerian air force passed above them through the night sky and the radio in Matilda's hands suddenly crackled with a man's cheery voice.

[Woohoo! That's right, boys and girls! Our pilots just dipped their wings for us out there and it is a beautiful sight. Those are my heroes, dancing with angels!]

Melissa looked up towards the passing jets. "Maybe… we can go to the radio station. We can make it in time and give this information to them!"

"Of course! Do you know the way?" Ludmilla asked with hopeful eyes.

"There's only one broadcasting station in Gracemeria. I know exactly where it is. Kids, let's-"

"Hold on a moment." Pasternak said, stopping everyone in their tracks. "Even if you convinced the radio guys to even let you take initiative, do you really think you can gain the trust of your allies in the air?"

"It's not that we can, we must !" Melissa shouted back at him. "Gracemeria's thousands of lives are at stake, and this is the only way-"

"And they would shut you out within ten seconds after hearing your voice." Pasternak glowered, dropping his friendly look in return for a deadly, piercing glare. "In a battle, they would think you're sabotaging them. Your efforts would then be in vain and this entire city would be doomed."

Melissa froze, her mouth trembling at retorting back to Pasternak, but she knew what he said was true — there was simply no way of getting the Air Force to believe in her.

"Well?" Pasternak asked. "I'm waiting for your answer."

'I don't know.' Melissa wanted to say. 'I don't know. I don't know. But I need to know. My family — my people, they're all in danger. Please. I have to know how to make them believe!'

She opened her still-trembling mouth before suddenly her daughter stepped in front of Pasternak.

"Hey! Don't bully my mom!" Matilda shouted, puffing out her chest, only to slightly falter when Pasternak turned his stare at her. "They can believe in me! I-I can make them trust me!"

Pasternak leaned down and looked deep into her eyes with a glare that shot right into the back of her head. "Can you?"

She didn't lean away but surprisingly straightened her back with an even brighter glare. "I can!" She shouted, her eyebrows furrowing and legs unwavering.

Again, silence filled the train station.

Pasternak straightened himself up. "Hm. Luckily for us, I think I know someone in the air who has a soft spot for children like you." He grinned and looked right at Melissa. "Looks like you've found your answer, Melissa. But you'll need a little bit more than a child's presence to convince them."

"That's fine!" Ludmilla shouted. "We can bring Voychek-"

"No." Pasternak snapped back. "Voychek is injured and will stay here and you will watch over him."

"I'm fine." Voychek said, though the way he trembled when he stood up said otherwise. "Let me-"

Pasternak sighed. "You need rest, old man. Don't push yourselves too hard." He walked forward and patted the shoulders of his senior.

"But… who will go with us, then?" Melissa asked, before her eyebrows rose in realization. "Wait, do you mean…"

"Of course, Melissa. Obviously…" Pasternak turned around and smiled with all the brightness in his eyes,

"...I will go."

---

"Please remember to leave for the nearest air raid shelter and stay there until the warning is lifted. Until then, please enjoy our early-morning broadcast of old songs from the- hey! Who are you?! How did you get in here?!"

"Sorry, but we gotta borrow your radio for a bit. Move aside, will ya?"

"What the-! This is private property! You have no legal obligation t-to…. Er…"

"Move aside." Pasternak smiled with the pistol pointed at the radio operator. "Trust me. Legal obligation won't matter if the city is destroyed, no?"

"Y-yes, but the city can hear you…"

"Oh, really? All the better. Hello Gracemeria, we are currently hijacking your radio station to send some precious data to your heroes in the air that will determine whether or not they save your city. Please do not interrupt us, stay safe, and have a good night."

The poor radio operator hung his jaw open as Pasternak casually relayed the message into the radio before turning off the microphone. The ace turned towards Melissa and Matilda and nodded, who brought the briefcase onto the table and revealed the laptop for the operator to see.

"This laptop contains all the necessary data that your friends in the sky need to carry out their operation." Pasternak patted him on the back. "I'm sure you'll know what would happen to this city if they fail, right? Take us to the frequency signal thingamajig."

The operator paled and sputtered before frantically getting up and reaching for the dials. "I-I don't know the air force's frequency…!" He babbled, sweat rolling down his neck frantically. "I can't get to them unless-"

"May I?" Pasternak stepped in and gently wrapped his fingers around the dials. "I was the pilot that engaged them with the army of drones a couple hours ago. While doing so, I managed to get into their channels and talked to them through their frequency. Now if my memory serves me right…"

Suddenly, the speakers started crackling and the familiar voice of the Emmerian AWACS came through the radio.

We're approaching the combat zone. Everyone, stay sharp! Those cruise missiles were carried over by a fast projectile, so keep your eyes peeled!

What a view.

It's like a mirror. Like it's giving us a good view into the Estovakian soul.

"Got it." Pasternak grinned. "That was easy."

"A… Amazing…" The operator bewilderedly breathed out. "That was so fast…"

Pasternak brought over a chair for the operator to sit, to which he placed the computer into his hands. "You know how to transmit files, right?"

"Y-yes!"

"Go and send them to this frequency. Their AWACS has the codename "Ghost Eye", so don't screw this up."

The Operator got to work in a hurry.

"Now…" Pasternak turned towards Melissa, "Are you ready, Miss Hermann?"

Melissa took a deep breath and nodded. She turned on the microphone, tapping the head once and fidgeted with its handle to test it, and then straightened her back as she spoke:

Can you hear me? Melissa threw a glance at Pasternak, who gave her a quirky eyebrow raise after confirming the connection's stability. I'd like to say hello. Hello to all the Emmerian Air Force pilots in the northern sky.

What the-? Someone from the Air Force's channel responded back with a startled jump in his voice. Whose voice is that?

Melissa sucked in another nervous breath. I'm just a civilian. My name's Melissa Herman.

I think it's coming from Gracemeria's radio station. Hey, we're in a warzone here! Ghost Eye's voice came rallying back.

I don't know a whole lot about war, but… Melissa's voice shook and wavered but it still held on steadily. …but there's something I need to tell you.

This airband is reserved for wartime defense purposes.

Please, pilots! Listen to my mom! Matilda leaned over to Melissa's side and pleaded. She has something important to say!

Hold on… Shamrock, or Marcus as Pasternak had learned, came into their defense. We might as well listen to what she has to say.

Melissa gripped the microphone even tighter. Please, trust me on this. The Estovakian military… has that battery, and it can't be destroyed.

Tch. Ghost Eye scoffed. She might be trying to disrupt our plans. I'd better contact Gracemeria Base.

Ghost Eye, wait! Shamrock interrupted again. Let's hear her out first!

Can you hear me? Melissa pleaded, The battery's weak points are its cooling units. If you can destroy those, it'll heat up and collapse on its own.

Matilda joined in with her mother again. Not only that, even if they get those heat thingies, there's also a backup. They have to get that too!

A couple surprised murmurs filled the radio channel.

Do you two have any proof of this? Shamrock asked skeptically.

The radio crew are sending the data over right now. Melissa continued. But the file's big, so it'll take some time-

I think I'll have to stop you right there, ma'am. Ghost Eye interrupted her, sending her reeling back in surprise. We have no idea whether or not you're telling the truth, ma'am. I'm sorry to say this, but at this moment we cannot trust your information.

At that moment, Pasternak stepped forward and tapped Melissa on the shoulder. As she turned around, he smiled and gestured towards the microphone, to which she nervously handed the device to him with as much care as possible.

Pasternak grinned into the mic. I believe you'll believe her soon enough, my fellow Liberators of Gracemeria.

The people in the room could practically hear the surprise coming out of the Emmerian Air Force.

What the-? You're-!

No way! There's no way!

It can't be… it can't be that pilot who almost screwed us yesterday, could it?

That voice! Is that-?

It's Ilya Pasternak's voice!

Pasternak chuckled at the commotion in the channels. Frankly, I'm in the same boat as you all. I'm rather surprised at the turn of events myself.

Impossible! We all saw the explosion! Ghost Eye sputtered, losing all of his composure. How are you even alive!?

Forced ejection. He grinned. Time to drop the bomb. Luckily for Garuda 2 over there, if I hadn't been ejected in time, his precious wife and daughter would have been dancing with the angels by now.

That completely silenced the Emmerian squadrons.

Y-you… you saved my wife…? And my daughter…? Shamrock's voice quivered. W-why? This doesn't make any sense!

I know, right? Pasternak chuckled in a low tone. But luckily for you, I think you owe me big, so do me a favor and listen to what I have to say.

He's got you there, Shamrock.

W-wha? Talisman, not you too! Shamrock complained, and finally all reluctance from the squadrons ceased.

Pasternak grinned. If you've heard about me, which I'm sure the lot of you have after my surprise attack, then you should know what I was called before.

Ilya Pasternak, the Bloodsucker of Estovakia. Ghost Eye answered in a whisper. Apart from you being the prized ace of Strigon and Vampire team, everything else in your profile was more or less redacted.

Pasternak rolled his eyes. Of course Dvornik would do such a thing. In that case… let me tell you a little bit about me and General Dvornik — the man who is currently commanding the weapon that is threatening your precious families in Gracemeria.

He blinked, and his eyes started gleaming a small but bright glint.

Have you heard of Estovakia's Three Great Heavens?

He heard confused mumblings in the Emmerians' comms.

About a year before Estovakia was reconquered, I was hastily climbing the ranks due to my talent as both a pilot... and a commander. Dvornik recognized me as one of Estovakia's greatest pieces, so he granted me the title of a Great Heaven.

Pasternak let his smile creep up his cheek.

…The other two Great Heavens were not people. The second one was the Aigaion, which you have already destroyed… but as the name suggests, there was a third Great Heaven in development: Chandelier. It was originally going to be a cannon to shoot down Ulysses, but its incompletion led to Estovakia's shattering. After the Eastern Faction conquered Estovakia, Dvornik saw it as the nation's future — a facility capable of generating near-unlimited energy… and also as a last resort to destroy Estovakia's enemies.

And for the record, I did manage to get a tour of the place before I was demoted to Lieutenant Commander, so everything Melissa Herman and her daughter said is true.

Pasternak noted how the silence in the channel was incredibly loud.

Ghost Eye cleared his throat. Erm… In that case, I apologize. I was not aware of all this.

Pasternak turned around to Melissa and Matilda, who were all looking at him with huge wide eyes.

"I think they'll listen now. How's uploading that file going?"

Melissa snapped out of her trance and looked at the Radio Station's operator. "Two-percent remaining… I must say, you are incredibly charismatic, Mister Pasternak."

"Thanks, but I don't do honorifics." He shrugged, gesturing towards the mic. "I think my help is over, though. "

She gasped and hurried over to the microphone, clumsily taking it into her hands. Th-thank you, pilots! We are almost done sending the file over, so please wait a little longer!

Data received. Hold on-?! Ghost Eye gasped, Ma'am, how did you get a hold of this?

I got it from a flight instructor in the Estovakian Air Force. His name is Lieutenant Colonel Voychek. He and Mister Pasternak are friends, so I trust them.

Garuda 2 to Ghost Eye. Send me a copy of that.

Roger. Ghost Eye inhaled. All planes, I'm sending you data concerning the enemy's weapons capabilities.

Got it-! After a few long seconds, Marcus gasped. Woah…

Pasternak couldn't see what was happening, but looking at the data in the computer earlier was more than enough to imagine what the pilots would be seeing through their hud right now — dozens of target boxes suddenly flooding the landscape, the hundreds of defenses lying perfectly in wait.

Either all ripe for the taking, or all primed to cause further destruction. Whatever the case was, it all meant the same to the Emmerian Air Force.

Let's go, Garuda 1! Shamrock yelled. It's time to finish this!

Let's go. Talisman responded, and their comms cut off into the sounds of war.

Pasternak, Melissa, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart. Could you leave the rest to us? Ghost Eye said, his tone sounding a lot lighter than usual.

Sure thing. Pasternak looked down at the small girl. Matilda, do you have anything else to say to the Emmerian pilots?

Matilda nodded and stood on her tiptoes to the microphone. Please be careful, everyone! She pleaded, just as the transmission was about to be cut off.

And then afterwards, complete silence. Melissa and Matilda collapsed back in their chairs, exhausted after talking (and convincing) such high authority. The radio operator in the back also sat down exhaustedly, for he too had no experience before like this night had given him.

"Well. I suppose that's that." Pasternak smiled, being the only one who was unfazed, and walked out of the room. "Where's the nearest washroom?"

---

April 10th, 2016

Gracemeria

"All rise, for the right honorable judge Yuki Tsukumo." The bailiff raised her hand and everyone stood up as the judge walked in.

"Court is now in session, please take a seat." The judge announced as she took her seat. "Okay. Item 1, on the calendar… AC10-2307, the Republic of Emmeria versus defendant Ilya Pasternak. Counsel, please state your appearances."

"AWACS Ghost Eye." The medium-sized man stood up, looking proudly toward his crew.

"With me is Garuda 1 "Talisman" from the 28th fighter Squadron,"

Talisman sat right next to him, blonde hair and bangs out for all to see.

"Daniel Pollini "Windhover" from the 15th fighter squadron along with his partner Lanner,"

Windhover and Lanner both gave a small bow.

"Freddie Durand "Avalanche" from the 2nd Strike Fighter Squadron, Stephen McCarthy "Sky Kid" from the 4th Fighter Squadron,"

The next two pilots didn't give any sort of introduction, as they were focused mainly on the pilot sitting next to them.

"...and last but not least, Marcus Lampert, "Shamrock", from the 28th fighter squadron." Ghost Eye announced with a proud smile, giving a small glance at the young pilot in the wheelchair.

Marcus beamed back with a shaky thumbs up from his position. From what Pasternak had heard, the young pilot daringly decided to enter the Chandelier's backup cooling passage to scan the defenses, essentially sacrificing himself for Talisman to finish the job. He didn't die, thank goodness, but Pasternak kept wondering — wouldn't it have been simpler to just shoot a missile right into the middle? The backup cooler was quite large, so the chances of missing a non-guided missile would have been rather low…

He decided not to mention it in fear of hurting the young guy's feelings. Perhaps later when his legs heal.

"Your honor, I would also like to note the presence of the Emmerian witnesses who are here this morning—" All eyes turned towards two women in the back, one also in a wheelchair, and the other nervously shaking at the atmosphere of the courtroom. "—Monica Lampert… and Melissa Hermann."

Ghost Eye then turned towards the Radio Operator at the front of the room, who was shaking noticeably. "I would also like to note the presence of the… victims… that were affected—" Everyone rolled their eyes at this "—by the defendant's actions."

Once the counsel sat back down, Pasternak stood up with… no lawyer at his side. "Ilya Pasternak, representing myself. Good morning." He bowed, and the entire courtroom laughed.

The judge rolled her eyes in half-amusement. "Okay. The parties have reached a plea agreement, satisfactory to both sides. However, I have reviewed the counsel's sentencing and recommendations and… well, I have questions. Mr. Ghost Eye, may you please come up to the microphone."

"Mr. Ghost Eye. Today, we consider the sentencing of the defendant, who will be pleading guilty, to multiple crimes — spearheading the final assault against Emmerian forces near the end of the Liberation of Gracemeria, crashing his jet into the Estovakian embassy — not like anyone misses it…"

Everyone chuckled.

"—accidentally crippling a mother and traumatizing a kid, refusing to comply with Emmerian guards at the main hospital, evading said guards and escaping from said hospital, threatening the radio operator at gunpoint, committing self-espionage, and unnecessary flirting with the police department's Deputy Chief which ended up causing more delay to this case because the two of you were too busy on a date yesterday." The judge deadpanned and glared at Pasternak, though everyone noticed it was because of the last point. "And for these offenses, the provided sentencing recommendation… is ten years of community service?"

Pasternak shrugged.

---

In another building, the Deputy Chief sneezed all over her romance novel.

"I have a feeling a certain judge is talking shit about me... ah whatever. Totally worth it! That Estovakian pilot was soooo hot!"

---

Judge Tsukumo turned towards Ghost Eye with a droopy face that screamed help me. "I don't understand, Mr. Ghost Eye."

"Hahh… as you may know…" Ghost Eye sighed with a rather unprofessional facepalm. "Pasternak and Voychek, the latter being the Estovakian soldier now in the POW camps with the other captured Stovies, had given us rather critical information that… would have ended in our deaths if they failed to do so. After many hours of careful consideration, this was what we came up with."

"While that certainly lightens the weight by a large margin, that still doesn't justify the other things on the list. In fact, this type of sentencing would usually land him in prison for a minimum of ten years with no probation. And yet, the counsel instead offered ten years of community service with government funding?" Judge Tsukumo threw her hands up in the air. "I'm rather flabbergasted."

"Your honor," Shamrock raised his hand and rolled forward in his wheelchair. "I would like to say that if it weren't for Mr. Pasternak's presence, my wife and daughter… wouldn't be seated here right now. He saved their lives, and in turn, also saved my heart from breaking apart completely. If anything, I believe that even a year of community service is too much of a punishment. And, as well…"

Shamrock looked back to his wife, who waved at him with a smile that made his face flutter and gleam like he was a kid in love again.

"He did convince us to listen to Melissa and Matilda Hermann. If it weren't for him, I don't think Ghost Eye would have believed them." Shamrock looked back at the Judge. "And if anything, I believe him threatening the operator to comply was… more than a necessary action for us to win the war."

"Mr. Lampert, I highly advise you-"

"I concur!" The radio operator stood up suddenly, holding his hand close to his heart. "While it was rather disturbing and traumatic, Mr. Pasternak here did what he had to do. If all I had to do was be threatened at gunpoint to save my nation, I would gladly take it!"

The room murmured and nodded in agreement.

"Hm." Judge Tsukumo picked up the sheet of paper on her desk. "In lieu of the counsel's, victims', and witnesses' testimonies, I have decided to follow through with the negotiated sentencing. Therefore, after his six months spent in the POW camp is up, Mister Ilya Pasternak is officially sentenced to ten years of mandatory community service, stationed here in Gracemeria, where he is to receive government pensions on a weekly basis. Additionally, he is granted off days on weekends and is also granted an Emmerian citizenship, as requested by said counsel."

BANG! Judge Tsukumo slammed the gavel on her desk. "And that will be all. Court dismissed!"

Not surprisingly, a sudden standing (and rolling) ovation from the Emmerian heroes filled the room, leaving Judge Tsukumo to roll her eyes as she stepped out of her seat, the prison guard to sigh deeply at the situation, and Pasternak to grin with a shrug as he was received with cheers, whistles, and chants of his name as the guard led him out of the room.

"Well." Pasternak's eyes shone humorously. "That was loud."

---

Hello everyone, Lesaiet here.

This story is crossposted from AO3. If yall wanna check it out then just search it up over there.

Uhh, I have not uploaded fanfics here in a while. Sorry about the lack of tags — I couldn't find Ilya Pasternak's name in there so I just had to stick with OC. Sorry.

That said, I'm kinda mad that Pasternak doesn't have his own category here. Like, c'mon. He's Pasternak. He charms women and men on the daily and is the definition of the 'likeable gary stu'. And we love to see it because he's awesome.

And it's such a shame because ACE COMBAT 6 IS AWESOME AND SOME OF YALL HAVE NOT PLAYED/WATCHED PEAK.

So I suppose I'm bringing you the only fanfiction in the Ace Combat fandom where Pasternak is the main character and kicks ass while looking good. PRAISE ME!

Oh and I'm also bringing in some characters from Project Wingman as an expy, because why not.

This story WILL have Pasternak as a Gary Stu. This story WILL have a complicated plot. This story WILL be chaotic and somewhat inconsistent with itself. This story WILL be set in AC7 for the majority. And this story WILL kick gum and chew ass. And it's all out of ass.

P.S, this fanfic and my take on Pasternak was heavily inspired by the manga series Kingdom, written by Yasuhisa Hara, and the fanfiction From Fake Dreams, written by Third Fang. If you have read both works, you will be able to spot certain scenes in my fanfic that are similar to what has been shown already in those works.