Tokyo Metropolis, United Government Emergency Countermeasures Headquarters.
A massive holographic tactical map floated above the round table, red dots marking the desolate island deep in the Pacific Ocean.
The air was thick with a high concentration of anxiety, countless phone rings and keyboard clicks weaving together a prelude to war.
“The diplomatic request has been sent, but we haven’t received any response.”
Yamanoi Yayoi pressed her hands on the tabletop.
Her business suit skirt hadn’t been changed in two days, but right now she couldn’t afford to care about appearances.
Sitting across from her were senior officials from the Metropolitan Police Department, the Ministry of Defense, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
“According to the Superpower Special Zone Act and the United Government Security Treaty, we have the right to take action against foreign terrorist organizations that have kidnapped our citizens.”
Yamanoi Yayoi looked around the room.
Her voice was still somewhat immature, but her tone was unprecedentedly firm.
“Party Leader Saionji’s fate is unknown. If we can’t even bring Yuki Asahi back, what reason does this government have to exist?”
“Party Leader Yamanoi, please calm down.”
The Ministry of Defense representative wiped the sweat from his forehead. “The enemy’s armed strength is unknown.”
“SAAC has already contacted the Pacific Treaty Navy.”
Ms. Li, standing beside Yamanoi Yayoi, spoke in a deep voice.
Ms. Li pointed at several blue arrows rapidly moving across the map.
“A task force centered on the amphibious assault ship Kunlun Mountain is heading to that sea area at full speed. As long as your country makes the decision, we can provide fire support at any time.”
Hearing the mention of the “Pacific Treaty Navy’s” involvement, the expressions of the Japanese officials present shifted slightly.
This was no longer a simple hostage rescue; it had escalated to the level of regional military action.
Yuki Asahi was indeed high-ranking and had helped Serys a great deal in the past… but not to this extent.
“Alright.”
The Minister of Foreign Affairs finally relented, adjusting his glasses.
“We will immediately dispatch a special envoy mission, along with hostage rescue experts from the Metropolitan Police Department, to make contact under the guise of ‘humanitarian negotiations.’”
“And if negotiations break down?” Yamanoi Yayoi pressed.
“If they refuse to surrender…”
The Ministry of Defense representative took a deep breath, his gaze sharpening.
“The Special Flight Instruction Squadron at the Air Self-Defense Force’s Nasu Base is already armed and on standby.”
“We will deploy the Shinshin.”
The ATD-X “Shinshin,” or the formally designated F-3 fighter.
This was not the old project that had been terminated due to technical verification during the previous era.
Rather, it was a next-generation air superiority fighter developed during the “Curtain Cluster’s” reign to counter Serys, ultimately completed by the United Government after the Asia War.
It possessed not only extreme stealth performance and maneuverability, but more importantly— it was an aerial command hub designed for “unmanned warfare.”
“Operation approved.”
The President of the United Government’s signature finally fell.
……
Three hours later, over the Pacific Ocean, at an altitude of ten thousand meters.
A C-2 transport plane painted with the United Government’s emblem wove through the clouds.
Inside the cabin, a few diplomats in suits, their faces pale, rested with their eyes closed. Across from them sat fully armed Metropolitan Police Department officers.
“Is there really room for negotiation on a mission like this?”
A young diplomat stared out at the pitch-black night, his voice trembling.
“They’re terrorists, after all.”
Since joining the Pacific Treaty, Japanese diplomats had rarely encountered anything so dangerous.
“Do your best, and leave the rest to fate.”
The senior special envoy sighed.
“Our mission is to establish the legal grounds for ‘courtesy before force.’ If they refuse, the big guys following behind will teach them some manners.”
He pointed toward the night sky behind them.
Above the clouds, invisible to the naked eye, two pitch-black fighter jets were cruising in silent mode.
They had no vertical stabilizers; their fuselages exhibited an eerie, streamlined shape, like ghosts swimming through the darkness.
These were the F-3 “Shinshin.”
And trailing each Shinshin, slightly behind and to the side, were six smaller drones loaded with missiles.
These were unmanned versions of the modified F-15J and F-4EJ “Phantom” – Undead Drone Wingmen.
These steel veterans that should have retired in the old era had their cockpits removed and were equipped with a tactical data link called “Neuron,” becoming loyal wingmen directly mind-controlled by the Shinshin pilots.
“Wizard-01 calling HQ. We’ve arrived at the edge of the target airspace.”
Inside the Shinshin’s cockpit, traditional instrument panels had been eliminated.
In their place, the pilot wore a full-coverage neural link helmet, their entire field of vision becoming a 360-degree panoramic battlefield awareness system.
In both pilots’ consciousness networks, the twelve drone wingmen behind them felt like extensions of their own bodies, each action as natural as moving a finger.
“Received. The diplomatic aircraft is about to enter contact range. Maintain surveillance and keep fire control locked.”
“Roger.”
The Wizard-01 pilot tilted his head slightly, peering through a gap in the clouds down at the brightly lit isolated island below.
And at the massive mecha hovering above the island, radiating an ominous red glow.
“That big guy… its radar cross-section is practically like a cruiser.”
Wizard-02’s pilot’s voice came through. “Intelligence says it’s a European decisive weapon? Doesn’t look like a model.”
……
Above the island, the C-2 transport began to descend and opened a broadcast on the public channel.
“Attention armed personnel below. This is the Japan United Government Envoy Mission.”
“We represent the Japanese government. We demand the immediate release of Japanese citizen Yuki Asahi, who is being illegally detained, and that you lay down your weapons and submit to inspection.”
“Repeat, this is an ultimatum. If you refuse, it will be considered an act of war against a sovereign state.”
The broadcast echoed in the sea breeze.
On the high platform, Yuki Asahi, tied to a chair, heard the familiar voice and lifted his head slightly.
“Oh? That was fast?”
The leader of the Oath Society stood nearby, still holding that glass of red wine, a mocking smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
“Diplomats? Negotiations? What a nostalgic old-fashioned way of doing things.”
He raised his hand and spoke softly into his earpiece. “Shut them up. They’re too noisy; it’ll disturb the witch’s entrance.”
“Yes.”
At the island’s edge, several surface-to-air missile positions disguised as rocks suddenly tore off their camouflage nets.
But this time, no missiles launched.
Instead, several figures in black robes flew into the sky.
They flew without any mechanical aid—a hallmark of Emergent Bodies.
One of them reached out, holding an oversized nail, while his other hand made a grasping motion toward the C-2 transport mid-hail.
Ten thousand meters up, the pupils of the two Shinshin pilots abruptly contracted.
The C-2 transport that had been hailing crumpled like a soda can crushed by an invisible giant hand.
No explosion. No flash.
The massive fuselage emitted a violent screech of twisting metal in midair, wings snapping off, the body crushed into a ball of scrap.
Inside, the diplomats and Metropolitan Police officers didn’t even have time to scream before becoming a blur of flesh.
That twisted mass of metal wreckage plummeted heavily toward the sea like a meteor.
The splash it made was the period marking the end of negotiations.