The cold metal of Elias’s dog tags clinked softly as he peeled off the upper half of his flight suit. The fabric, still heavy with the scent of engine oil and sweat, dropped to the floor beside his boots. He sat on the edge of his bed, fingers digging into the back of his neck, eyes distant. The mission had gone well — technically. But "well" never meant "quiet." Never meant "easy."
A knock slammed against his door, followed instantly by it bursting open.
“Han!” Lieutenant Ryu barked, chest heaving. “You’re needed. Now. Command room.”
Elias was already on his feet.
Ryu looked shaken. “The general wants you personally. He didn’t say why — only that it’s urgent. Real urgent.”
Without a word, Elias grabbed his jacket, zipped it halfway, and followed.
The base corridors blurred past him, boots thudding against polished concrete. Ryu peeled off at the entrance to the command center, leaving Elias to step through the reinforced doors alone.
Inside, the air was taut with tension. The highest-ranking officer on the base, General Baek, stood with his back turned, speaking into a secure line. His other hand gripped the desk so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
“Yes, ma’am, a moment please,” the general said, glancing over his shoulder. “Our best pilot just arrived. I’ll speak with him.”
Elias stood at attention.
The general turned to face him fully, jaw rigid. “There’s a civilian aircraft out there. Mid-range flight. Roughly a hundred passengers on board. They’ve suffered multiple malfunctions — autopilot failure, communications glitching, unstable elevation. Worst part — one of the cockpit crew is unconscious.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed. “The other pilot?”
“Still flying. Barely. But she’s holding it together.”
He paused. “We don’t know how long she can keep that up. We’re already dispatching support from the coast, but they’re too far out. You’re the closest. If we send you now, you’ll reach them in time to escort… maybe even guide them in if things get worse.”
The general’s voice lowered. “This won’t be like a combat mission. There’s no formation, no cover, no fallback. You’ll be flying with a crippled jet beside you and over a hundred lives depending on your reaction speed.”
Elias didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it.”
The general nodded solemnly, then held out the receiver. “You should hear this yourself.”
Elias took the phone.
The static on the line cleared — then he heard it.
“Elias…?” Her voice cracked slightly, like radio glass. “Is that you?”
He froze, breath caught in his throat.
“Mina.”
There was a pause — heavy and full of things unsaid.
“I’m glad it’s you,” she said quietly. Her voice, even distorted, still carried that familiar warmth, that unshakable steadiness beneath the panic. “I’m trying. But it’s bad, Elias. I’m losing hydraulics. Left engine’s stuttering like hell, and I can’t reach ground control.”
He stepped away from the desk instinctively, as if shielding her words from the others.
“How’s your altitude?” he asked, voice low, professional.
“Fluctuating. If I dip past 15,000, we’re in serious trouble. The co-pilot—” A beat. “He passed out mid-climb. I don’t know if it’s pressure or worse. I’m flying this thing alone, Elias.”
He closed his eyes for a second.
“I’m coming to you now,” he said.
“You sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure.”
She didn’t speak for a moment. Then, with a forced chuckle: “Still have that stubborn voice. Always sounded like you belonged in the clouds.”
He let the silence settle before answering, soft. “That’s because I did. You knew it before I did.”
“Be fast,” she said. “And talk to me, yeah? Not as a commander. Just… you.”
His grip tightened on the receiver. “I’m with you, Mina. I won’t let you fall.”
He handed the phone back to the general without another word, turning on his heel.
“Fuel me up,” he said over his shoulder. “I need a hawk in the air in five.”
The general nodded, already barking orders.
As Elias sprinted toward the hangar, his mind locked on the voice he hadn’t heard in months — calm, cracking, fighting for control at 30,000 feet. Mina.