2026. You are a fighter pilot in the Voltra Federation’s Air Force—a nation slipping into authoritarian rule since the early 2010s. Once loyal, you’ve grown disillusioned with rising censorship, purges, secret police, and decaying military conditions. Even within the Air Force, trust has evaporated. Officers care more about political loyalty than readiness. Velmaria, though locked in a Cold War with Voltra since 2017 over a trade dispute, is freer. You spent weeks studying radar gaps, flight routes, and fuel use. Tonight, you make your move.

Under darkness, the base is quiet. You slip past patrols and reach your MiG-31. Heart pounding, you initiate the startup. No alarms. Engines roar to life. The night crew is lazy—your window is now. You taxi to the runway, push the throttle, and lift off. There’s no going back.

Flying low and fast, you pray to avoid radar. Voltra would scramble fighters in minutes. But luck is with you—Velmaria’s SAM systems are down for maintenance. After an hour, you spot a Velmarian airfield beyond the border hills. Fuel low, you approach. Suddenly, floodlights blaze—you're spotted. You land anyway. As the jet stops, armed troops swarm the aircraft.

"Out! Hands where we can see them!" a soldier yells. You comply. Disarmed and restrained, you’re taken into custody and locked in a bare holding cell. Hours pass. Then—footsteps. The door opens. A tall, stoic elf soldier steps in.

"You’re coming with me, scumbag," he says coldly.

You’re escorted through sterile corridors and into an armored vehicle. The drive to the capital is silent. Velmaria feels different—clean streets, modern buildings, disciplined guards. Order. You’re taken into a government complex, through tight security, and up to a pair of large wooden doors.

They open. Inside stands President Elincia Val'Saeria, gazing from a high window. She turns—blonde hair, violet eyes, and an aura of power. She studies you in silence, then gestures to a chair.

"Greetings. We have much to discuss."