+++May 5, 1991
++Territory of the Unified Front of China
++Songyuan, West-central Jilin Province
++142.37 kilometres Southwest of Harbin City
++Ertun Village Supply Outpost
The rain came with May, relentless and unyielding, turning the already grim landscapes of northeastern China into a bleak canvas of gray skies and muddy fields. The storm, named Typhoon Walt, had skirted past the Philippines, brushed Taiwan, and now lashed the fringes of southern China with heavy rainfall and gusting winds. It wasn't the most destructive typhoon, nor did it make a direct landfall on Chinese territory, but it was enough to make TSF operations precarious. The ground had become a slick, treacherous mire, and even the highly maneuverable F-15J Kagerous struggled against the elements.
For Horn Company, this wasn't a new challenge. They'd patrolled in worse conditions, but the storm brought its own unique risks. Visibility was almost nonexistent, and the acoustic sensors were dampened by the constant drumming of rain on their TSFs armor. The Songhua River had flooded, submerging entire villages and leaving BETA corpses rotting in stagnant pools of water. The once-bustling Songyuan City, now a rubble-strewn wasteland, its remaining survivors evacuated to nearby cities, though even those safe havens wouldn't last long if the BETA continued their eastward push.
They were mid-sweep when the malfunction happened.
"Captain, I've got a malfunction in my right jump unit!"
The voice of 2nd Lt. Yamamoto Kenta crackled through the datalink comms, laced with panic. On Takeru's retinal display, he watched as Yamamoto's F-15J Kagerou jerked mid-air, the right-side jump unit sputtering before cutting out entirely. The machine pitched dangerously, veering toward the ground with the weight of gravity clawing at it.
Takeru calmly readied to intervene, but Yamamoto was no amateur.
"Stabilizing… stabilizing…" Yamamoto grunted through the channel, and Takeru saw the machine level out, landing heavily but upright, its left jump unit compensating for the dead right side.
Takeru exhaled slowly, his hands steady on the controls.
"Yamamoto, report status."
"Right jump unit's busted, Captain. I've got limited mobility, but she's still operational."
Takeru processed the situation quickly. Continuing their sweep with Yamamoto in that condition was too risky. They needed to divert, and fast.
"Divert to Ertun Village. We'll set up there and wait for the mechanics."
The Imperial Japanese Mechanic unit was a four-hour drive away, a delay they couldn't avoid. Takeru sent a quick datalink message to B-Flight, led by Takeda and Okabe, ordering them to split off and continue the sweep while A-Flight regrouped at Ertun. The formation thinned, leaving only Sakai, Matsuda, Yamamoto, Suzuki, and Kobayashi with Takeru as they moved into a wing formation.
The rain was a constant, oppressive presence, blurring optics and masking sound. Takeru's sensors swept the landscape, but all he could see were the ghosts of destroyed villages and the faint heat signatures of BETA corpses decomposing in the flooded fields.
They'd been on patrol for weeks, cycling through the Harbin-Shenyang defense line, keeping the BETA that had breached Tongliao from pushing into Heilongjiang Province. It wasn't always combat; more often, it was just long, monotonous stretches of waiting — staying alert, staying ready.
"Horn-2 to Horn-1, optics are useless in this rain. Are you seeing anything?" Sakai's voice came through the comms, light but tinged with boredom.
Takeru glanced at his display, the blips of his squadmates flickering against the backdrop of static.
"Sensors are clear. Running a datalink sweep, but no movement. I've got acoustic sensors up just in case," Takeru replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn't trust the BETA not to surprise them, especially with the Songhua River flooding and forcing more of the alien creatures out of hiding.
The silence stretched again, the only sounds the rhythmic hiss of the rain against their cockpits and the occasional static burst from the comms.
It was Sakai who broke the monotony.
"Alright, this is killing me. Let's talk about something less depressing." There was a pause. "Captain, the black box is still running, right?"
Takeru's lips quirked into a faint smile.
"Yep. You better make sure it doesn't catch you saying something stupid."
"Ah, screw it. I'm making a private channel."
Takeru's retinal display flickered as Sakai created an encrypted channel, isolating their conversation from the official records. One by one, Matsuda, Yamamoto, Suzuki, and Kobayashi joined in, their communication windows popping up in the corner of Takeru's retinal display.
"Alright, boys, spill. Love life." Sakai grinned from his window, leaning back in his cockpit as if they weren't stuck in the middle of a heavy rainstorm in enemy territory.
"Seriously?" Matsuda snorted but didn't protest.
"Why not?" Yamamoto chimed in, still tinkering with his busted jump unit inside his cockpit, through the use of the auxiliary arm. "Not like the BETA are throwing us a party anytime soon."
Sakai started with his usual bravado.
"After I get back, I'm marrying my girl. She's been waiting for me. Gotta keep the Sakai line strong, you know?" His grin widened, and a few of the guys chuckled.
Matsuda and Yamamoto admitted they had fiancées too, but unlike Sakai, they weren't sure if they could commit fully, given the circumstances. Suzuki and Kobayashi were more reserved, their shy smiles betraying the fact that they hadn't made it that far in their relationships or maybe they hadn't started at all.
Then, inevitably, the question turned to Takeru.
"What about you, Captain? Got a fiancée waiting for you back home?" Sakai asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Takeru shrugged, his expression unreadable.
"No fiancée." He paused. "Though I wonder if my father will force one on me, though."
The squad erupted into mock laughter and teasing comments, but Sakai wasn't done.
"No fiancée, huh? What about lovers, then? Come on, Captain, spill."
Takeru's face remained impassive, though inwardly he fought the urge to smirk.
If only they knew, Takeru thought. How do I even explain that I've slept with two women who were supposed to be my future instructors?
On his retinal display, the squad's comm windows flickered with their wild guesses and speculations, Sakai complaining loudly about how secretive Takeru was.
Finally, Takeru cut through the noise with his usual calm authority.
"Stay frosty."
The chatter died down immediately, the squad's attention snapping back to their surroundings.
Takeru toggled back to the main comm channel, contacting the Command Post.
"Horn-1 to Command Post. Any BETA activity in the province?"
The reply was quick, the operator's voice crackling through the rain-soaked static.
"Negative, Horn-1. No incursions detected. Maintain current patrol until further notice."
Takeru acknowledged the message, his eyes scanning the murky horizon through the cockpit's rain-streaked canopy. The rain wasn't letting up. In fact, it was getting worse.
What had started as a steady drizzle had now become an unrelenting downpour, a wall of water that blurred the already decimated landscape into an indistinct wash of grays and blacks. The once-firm ground beneath the F-15J Kagerous had turned to sludge, making even the simplest maneuvers feel like wrestling with the earth itself.
Takeru's retinal display flickered with data as he adjusted the position of A-Flight, the persistent rain forcing them to recalibrate their formation. Visibility was zero; even the TSF's advanced optics and sensors struggled to cut through the oppressive sheets of water.
The Songhua River, already swollen from days of relentless rainfall, had finally overstepped its bounds. A flash flood barreled through the valley, cutting off pathways and swallowing anything in its path. The nearby supply outpost, manned by a skeleton crew of personnel, was in immediate danger.
"Yamamoto, how's that jump unit holding up?" Takeru's voice cut through the comms, calm despite the chaos.
"Still shot to hell, Captain," Yamamoto grunted. But even with one of his jump units crippled, Yamamoto was far from useless. He maneuvered his TSF with calculated precision, using the still-functional unit to push a series of shipping containers into place. The heavy metal crates formed a makeshift barrier around the outpost, shielding it from the worst of the rising waters.
Over the comms, Sakai let out a low chuckle.
"Never thought I'd be out here in a multi-million-yen TSF, doing flood control."
Takeru allowed himself a small smirk, though his eyes never left the data scrolling across his retinal display's readout.
"It can't be helped. The dam in Hadashan has been falling apart for years." His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was an undercurrent of something else—curiosity. "What surprises me is that we're not completely underwater. 26 kilometers southwest of here should be submerged by now."
It didn't sit right with him. Not in the slightest.
Takeru opened a comm line to the supply outpost, his Mandarin fluent and precise as he addressed the sergeant on duty.
"Sergeant, what's the situation with the flood controls here?"
There was a brief pause on the other end before the voice came through, rough but tinged with surprise.
"Your Mandarin is excellent, Captain." The sergeant, Liang Wei, sounded genuinely impressed. "Better than most of my own men."
"Focus on the situation, Sergeant." Takeru's tone left no room for pleasantries.
Liang let out a tired sigh. "After the BETA hit Qianguo County, most of the officials pulled out. No one's maintaining the infrastructure anymore. Even if they did, why bother? The BETA could wipe this place out tomorrow."
Takeru's mind clicked into place. They're using the flooding as a natural barrier against the BETA. Let the environment do the work, save resources, minimize risk.
"Understood. Stay put. If the situation worsens, we'll move to Shibei Village. We'll keep the path clear."
Liang hesitated. "We appreciate it, Captain. But someone's gotta keep the equipment running. We'll hold the line here."
Takeru respected that. He cut the connection and nudged his TSF into a higher position on the ridge, giving him a better vantage point over the floodplain.
The comms crackled back to life with Sakai's familiar voice, though this time it carried a hint of unease.
"You know… this weather's starting to feel a little too ominous. Anyone else getting paranoid?"
"Feels like we're sitting ducks," Matsuda chimed in, his tone light but not entirely joking.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Suzuki muttered, his voice barely audible over the static.
Takeru didn't respond immediately. The rain drummed against the cockpit like an incessant metronome, a reminder of time slipping by in this godforsaken BETA-occupied space. Internally, he reflected on the salt storms he'd survived in other timelines — storms that sometimes stripped flesh from bone, that buried entire battalions in a matter of hours. Compared to that, this was nothing.
But it wasn't the storm that worried him. It was the silence.
"This is usually natural," Takeru finally said, his voice steady over the comms. "But think about it. The BETA aren't just here to wipe us out. They're terraforming Eurasia to their liking. The more barren the land, the easier it is for them to move. These weird weather patterns? It's part of their process."
The channel went quiet for a beat before Sakai spoke again.
"Makes sense. You're saying we're living in their backyard now."
Takeru didn't bother confirming it. They all knew the truth.
Meanwhile, B-Flight—led by Takeda and Okabe informed Takeru that they were stuck on the other side of the province. The storm had turned their path into a quagmire, and the maintenance trailer they were escorting was sinking into the mud with every passing minute.
"Horn-7 to Horn-1, we're pinned down. The trailer's not going anywhere in this mess. We're prioritizing its safety, but we're not moving until this clears up." Takeda's face in Takeru's retinal display's communication window was tense but composed.
Takeru acknowledged the situation with a quick nod.
"Stay put. Don't risk the trailer. We'll hold the line here."
The comms fell silent again, the only sound the relentless pounding of rain against metal. Their TSF headlights cut through the darkness, casting long shadows across the flooded plain. The outpost's lights flickered in the distance, a weak beacon against the abyssal black of the night.
The wind picked up, howling like a wounded animal through the valley. The noise was so loud, so all-encompassing, that no one in A-Flight bothered to speak. They were waiting. Watching. Ready.
And then they heard it.
At first, it was just a faint vibration underfoot, easily mistaken for the storm's fury. But it grew — a low, guttural rumble that resonated through the ground, vibrating the cockpits of their TSFs.
"Horn-2 to Captain…" Sakai's voice was low, tense. "Are you hearing that?"
Takeru's sensors flared to life, but it wasn't a BETA signature. No, this was something else.
The rumble grew louder, more distinct, and Takeru's blood ran cold as his display marked the source.
"Flash flood incoming. Ten kilometers out. Bigger than the last one."
For a split second, no one spoke.
Then Takeru's voice cut through the comms, sharp and commanding.
"Brace for impact. Hold your positions."
The floodwaters roared through the valley like a living thing, swallowing everything in its path.
The rain wasn't just relentless anymore, it felt vindictive, lashing down with a force that seemed almost sentient, as if nature itself had conspired with the BETA to make this mission impossible. The thunder rolled in long, grumbling waves, and each flash of lightning painted the landscape in brief, violent strokes of white light, revealing a world that was rapidly drowning.
A-Flight was in the thick of it, maneuvering around the swelling floodwaters that had turned the once-firm ground into an unpredictable, surging maelstrom.
Takeru's retinal display flickered with data as he barked out his next command.
"Suzuki and Kobayashi—assist Yamamoto. Get him clear of the rising water!"
Suzuki and Kobayashi acknowledged immediately, their F-15J Kagerous pivoting through the torrential rain to flank Yamamoto's crippled TSF. Even with one of his jump units down, Yamamoto was managing to hold his position, but the floodwaters were rising too quickly for him to maintain stability.
The comms crackled with Suzuki's voice, strained but focused.
"Captain, we've got him. Stabilizing his frame now."
Takeru gave a curt nod, even though no one could see it. His focus was already shifting to the supply outpost. He opened a channel, his Mandarin slicing cleanly through the static.
"Sergeant Liang, what's your status?"
There was a brief pause before Liang Wei responded, his voice calm despite the chaos.
"We'll manage, Captain. The barriers are holding, but we won't last if the rain keeps up like this."
Takeru appreciated the man's resolve, but he knew better than to rely on hope in a situation like this.
"All units, reverse boost! Get to higher ground—now!" Takeru's command was sharp, cutting through the storm's roar.
The F-15J Kagerous ignited their jump units, the reverse thrust kicking up plumes of water and mud as they lifted off the ground. The machines strained against the pull of gravity and the weight of the rain-soaked atmosphere, burning through their propellant reserves at a worrying rate.
Takeru's TSF surged upward, the cockpit trembling under the strain. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the muddy torrent below. From his elevated vantage, he could see just how bad it had become — the floodwaters were no longer just rising; they were consuming.
They crested onto a ridge, the higher ground offering some respite from the immediate threat of the flood. But Takeru wasn't about to let his guard down.
"Prepare for a NOE flight. We're doing a sweep." His voice remained toneless, the calm anchor that kept his men steady amidst the storm.
The Nap-of-the-Earth flight had them skimming just meters above the raging flood, their TSFs weaving through the sheets of rain with surgical precision. It was a delicate balance, flying low enough to monitor the situation at the outpost, but high enough to avoid being swallowed by the next surge of water.
Circling back toward the supply outpost, Takeru opened a channel once more.
"Sergeant Liang, status update."
There was a beat of static before Liang's voice returned, tinged with stress but steady.
"We're holding, Captain. It's not pretty, but we'll make it."
Takeru wasn't entirely convinced, but he knew there was only so much they could do in this weather. He toggled his comms, patching through to Command Post.
"Horn-1 to Command Post. Flooding has compromised the area. Supply outpost is stable for now, but I recommend relocation if conditions worsen."
The response was swift, the operator's voice cutting through the noise.
"Horn-1, this is Shimizu Aiko at the Command Post. Prioritize the safety of your TSFs. Relocation authorized."
Takeru mulled over the information for a second, then made his decision.
"All units, we're moving to higher ground, southwest quadrant. Maintain formation and conserve propellant if possible."
As A-Flight adjusted course, a sudden crackle of static jolted through the comms, followed by Shimizu's voice — this time, more urgent.
"Horn-1, be advised. We've detected a BETA incursion near Sipingjie, in the west of Jilin province."
Takeru's eyes narrowed. His hand flicked over the control sticks, opening the channel wider.
"Repeat that, Command Post. Confirm BETA incursion at Sipingjie."
Silence.
The line went dead.
For a long moment, the only sounds were the whining of jump units and the relentless pounding of rain. Then Sakai's voice, quieter now, broke the silence.
"Captain… Did she say what I think she said? BETA in Sipingjie or something?"
Takeru's gaze remained fixed ahead, the rain-streaked canopy of his cockpit offering no answers. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.
"We can't fight in this weather."
It wasn't a question of bravery or tactics. It was a simple reality. The storm had rendered their TSFs vulnerable, their mobility compromised, their sensors unreliable. Charging into an incursion under these conditions was suicidal.
But even as he said it, Takeru felt the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. We need every TSF functional safe. Sergeant Liang and the others can take second priority.
"We'll hold position for now," Takeru continued, his tone brooking no argument. "Once the weather clears, we'll reassess. Until then, eyes open."
The squad acknowledged, settling into their new position, as the floodwaters raged below.