The hangar was quiet except for the hum of overhead lights and the occasional clang of a distant wrench against metal. The Donnerdrache sat at the center of the vast space, its sleek frame glinting under the fluorescent glare. Zoey paced in front of the VTOL, her claws tapping against the reinforced concrete floor. Her usually confident posture was strained, shoulders tight, tail lashing intermittently behind her. She glanced toward Etrius, who methodically ran through the pre-flight checklist with his usual calm efficiency.
“You’re sure about this?” Zoey’s voice cracked slightly, betraying the turmoil she fought to suppress. She stopped pacing to face him, arms crossed over her chest as though she could physically hold herself together. “It’s been over twenty years since I’ve stepped foot in Germany, Etrius. That place… it’s a graveyard for me. Every corner of it—every damned shadow—feels like it’s waiting to swallow me whole.”
Etrius didn’t immediately respond. He finished inspecting the Donnerdrache’s fuel intake, then turned to face her. His emerald eyes, usually hard and analytical, softened as he took her in. She looked fragile in that moment, her imposing figure diminished by the weight of her fears. But he knew better than to treat her like glass.
“It’s not about being sure, Zoey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “It’s about necessity. This isn’t just for you—it’s for both of us. Whatever’s in that facility, it might have answers. For your condition. For why these aliens won’t stop hunting you. For everything that’s been tearing you apart.”
Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “Necessity,” she echoed. “That’s a nice, clean word for what this is. You know what I see? A suicide mission. I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore, Etrius. And now I’m going back to the place that made me a monster in the first place?”
“You’re not a monster,” Etrius interrupted, his tone sharp enough to slice through her spiraling thoughts. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her. “You’re Zoey. A survivor. A fighter. And the last person I’d ever call broken.”
For a moment, the fire in Zoey’s eyes dimmed, and she looked away. Her tail flicked again, betraying her restlessness. “What if I can’t face it?” she muttered. “What if going back there... breaks me?”
Etrius placed a hand on her scaled shoulder, the cool touch of his cybernetic limb grounding her. “Then we face it together,” he said firmly. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. If you break, we’ll rebuild. But we don’t run from this, Zoey. Not anymore.”
Her breath hitched, and she nodded, more to herself than to him. She couldn’t bring herself to thank him—not in words—but her posture relaxed slightly, and her claws stopped digging into her arms.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said finally, her voice stronger. “I’ll start the Mantis. You double-check the cargo.”
Etrius nodded and watched her retreat into the shadows of the hangar. When she disappeared from sight, he allowed himself a moment to exhale, the tension in his shoulders easing. He was on edge too, though he hid it well. Europe held ghosts for him as well, but he couldn’t afford to let them surface—not while Zoey needed him to be her anchor.
As he resumed his checks, he muttered under his breath, a quiet prayer to whatever forces governed their chaotic existence. “We’ll make it through this. We have to.”
The Donnerdrache’s engines roared as it lifted off, the hangar’s lights shrinking below them. Etrius guided the craft upward with steady hands, his body relaxed in the pilot’s seat. The hum of the engines filled the cockpit, a constant reminder of the journey ahead.
Zoey had disappeared into the Mantis shortly after takeoff, her exhaustion evident. He didn’t begrudge her the sleep—she needed it. Sixteen hours in the air would be grueling enough without adding fatigue to the mix.
Time passed uneventfully as Etrius maintained a cruising altitude, the horizon a faint blur of clouds and stars. He glanced at the cockpit monitors occasionally, ensuring all systems ran smoothly. The radar showed nothing but empty skies for now.
In the cargo bay, the Mantis was dimly lit, its cramped interior quiet save for Zoey’s uneven breathing. She shifted restlessly in her cot, her face contorted with tension. Her dreams dragged her back to the Nazi facility, the cold sterility of its walls suffocating. She saw faces—pale, twisted by pain—and heard the metallic scrape of restraints against flesh. A young girl’s scream echoed endlessly in her ears. Hers.
She jolted awake, gasping for air as her claws dug into the cot’s edge. For a moment, she struggled to orient herself, the hum of the Donnerdrache’s engines replacing the echoes of her nightmare. The turbulence rocked the Mantis gently, its suspension absorbing most of the motion, but her heart still pounded.
Zoey joined Etrius in the cockpit an hour later, her steps heavier than usual. He glanced at her as she plopped heavily into the pilot seat, his gaze briefly lingering on the dark circles under her eyes.
“Rough nap?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with concern.
She snorted, leaning back and closing her eyes. “That obvious?”
Etrius didn’t respond, letting the silence prompt her. Eventually, she sighed and opened her eyes, staring out the windshield at the empty night.
“Same shit, different day,” she muttered. “The facility. Screaming. Pain I can’t forget, no matter how hard I try.”
Etrius tightened his grip on the yoke, his jaw clenching briefly before he forced himself to relax. “They’re memories, Zoey, not chains. They don’t own you.”
“Feels like they do,” she admitted quietly, her voice raw.
Before Etrius could respond, a sharp beep interrupted them, cutting through the hum of the engines. The radar screen flashed red, displaying a cluster of blips rapidly closing in from behind.
“Bandits,” Etrius said, his voice instantly sharp and focused. He activated the Donnerdrache’s automated defense systems, the whir of turret motors audible above the cockpit noise. “Four, maybe five fast movers.”
Zoey’s fingers flew over the console, arming the AMRAAMs. “Turrets are up. Switching to manual.”
Etrius was already out of his seat, moving toward the roof turret. “Get us higher and faster,” he ordered, climbing the ladder with fluidity and grace.
Zoey pushed the engines to full throttle, the Donnerdrache shuddering forward as its thrusters screamed against the air. The altitude indicator climbed rapidly. “Let’s see if they can keep up,” she growled.
Etrius settled into the turret, gripping the controls tightly. The targeting system locked onto the incoming craft as they broke through the cloud cover, sleek and angular against the faint moonlight.
“They’re alien,” he confirmed, his voice crackling over the intercom. “Same ones as last time.”
“Then let’s remind them why they shouldn’t mess with us,” Zoey replied, her eyes locked on the radar. The first AMRAAM launched, its trail a fiery streak cutting through the darkness.
Etrius tracked the nearest target, his turret spitting glowing rounds into the night. The Donnerdrache climbed higher, its engines straining as Zoey pushed the VTOL to its limits.
The comms crackled again, Etrius’s voice cutting through the chaos. “Hold steady, Zoey. This is gonna get rough.”
“Rough is all I know,” she shot back, baring her teeth.
The first bandit exploded in a burst of fire and twisted metal, the AMRAAM hitting true. Zoey grinned savagely, her sharp teeth catching the faint light of the cockpit displays. “One down, four to go,” she muttered, hands steady on the controls as she banked the Donnerdrache to starboard, keeping their profile slim and harder to target.
“Good hit,” Etrius acknowledged over the comms, his voice calm and clinical. The turret swiveled, tracking a second target as it dipped low to try and flank. “Bandit two on the deck. I’ve got it.”
The roof turret lit up, pouring a concentrated stream of tungsten slugs toward the alien craft. Its sleek, angular shape shimmered faintly as the rounds ripped through the thin hull, shredding its structure. The alien plane faltered, its attempt at evasive maneuvers futile. Seconds later, it burst into a bright plume of fire, raining debris onto the ocean below.
“That’s two,” Etrius reported, his voice carrying a faint edge of irritation as he repositioned the turret. “Next.”
Zoey didn’t respond immediately. She slammed the throttle forward, feeling the Donnerdrache groan under the strain of its own acceleration. The VTOL was faster than it looked, and the aliens were finding out the hard way. “These scaly bastards really don’t know when to quit,” she snarled, her tail twitching with agitation. “You’d think they’d get the message by now.”
“They’re persistent,” Etrius replied dryly, as if commenting on the weather. “Idiots, but persistent.”
The radar lit up with another warning as two bogeys attempted to close the gap. One dipped low again, trying to get beneath their plane. Zoey adjusted her trajectory, keeping them higher, her claws digging into the controls as she cursed under her breath.
The belly turret acted on its own, its targeting system locking onto the low-flying craft. Without hesitation, it opened fire, unleashing a torrent of heavy rounds that tore through the bandit’s engines. The alien craft spiraled downward in flames, its heat signature vanishing from the radar.
“Nice,” Zoey muttered, her aggression simmering just below the surface. “Even the damn turrets are sick of their shit.”
“Three down,” Etrius confirmed, shifting his focus to the remaining targets. His voice carried no triumph, only the mechanical efficiency of someone who had done this too many times before. “Two left. They’re closing.”
Zoey’s claws flexed against the throttle as she prepared for the next engagement. The Donnerdrache rocked slightly with the turbulence of their own wake, but it wasn’t enough to shake her focus. “Let’s finish this and get outta here. I’m done playing babysitter for these overgrown lizards.”
“Agreed,” Etrius replied, his turret already locking onto the next target. The two moved in sync, their exhaustion giving way to the cold precision of survival.
The final two alien craft adjusted their formation, coming in tighter and faster. Etrius spotted the change on the radar immediately. “They’re closing in hard. Kamikaze run,” he called out, his voice calm but urgent.
“No shit,” Zoey growled, yanking the Donnerdrache into a sharp climb. The G-forces pressed her into the pilot’s seat as alarms blared across the console. “Persistent and suicidal. Fantastic.”
The aliens adjusted to her maneuver, breaking apart to flank her. One shot ahead, angling for a direct collision course. Zoey gritted her teeth, eyes locked on the trajectory as the fighter grew larger in the windshield. “Come on, you little bitches…”
Etrius tracked the other bogey with the turret, keeping it at bay with short bursts of fire, but his gaze flicked to the cockpit. “Zoey, bank left now!”
The kamikaze craft closed the distance, its angular body glowing with the heat of its overstressed systems. Zoey waited until the last possible moment, adrenaline sharpening her senses. Then she jerked the controls to the left, sending the Donnerdrache into an aerlion roll.
The alien fighter screamed past, its wingtip skimming the VTOL’s fuselage with a deafening screech of metal on metal. Zoey’s heart slammed against her ribs as she pulled out of the roll, leveling the Donnerdrache. “Ha! Dumbass missed!” she shouted, her voice a mix of relief and raw aggression.
“He’s looping back,” Etrius warned, but his turret couldn’t rotate fast enough to reacquire the target.
The second fighter surged forward, its lasers firing in a desperate volley. One beam struck the Donnerdrache’s canopy, the reinforced glass cracking under the concentrated energy. Another beam lanced through the breach, grazing Zoey’s chest.
She screamed—a guttural, furious sound that was more rage than pain. The smell of scorched scales filled the cockpit as she instinctively slapped a hand over the burn. “Fucking shit! That’s it!”
“Status?” Etrius demanded, his voice tight with controlled urgency.
“Burned, pissed off, still flying,” she snapped back, glaring at the glowing warning indicators on her console. “This ends now.”
She pushed the Donnerdrache into a steep dive, the engines roaring as the VTOL hurtled toward the ocean below. The alien craft pursued, its pilot clearly committed to the kamikaze tactic. Zoey’s claws gripped the controls so tightly that the metal creaked under the pressure.
“Brace,” she muttered, then yanked the controls back. The Donnerdrache pulled up sharply, skimming just above the waves. The pursuing fighter couldn’t match the maneuver, slamming into the water with a fiery explosion that sent spray and debris into the air.
“Got him,” Etrius confirmed, the faintest hint of satisfaction in his voice.
“Damn right I did,” Zoey hissed, ignoring the pain in her chest as she swung the Donnerdrache back into position. “One left. Let’s finish this.”
The last alien craft broke away, its engines burning hot as it accelerated beyond the Donnerdrache’s reach. Zoey’s eyes darted to the airspeed indicator, her mind racing. The VTOL groaned under the strain of her pursuit, nearing its design limits.
“Careful,” Etrius warned from the turret. “If you push it too far, this thing’ll tear itself apart.”
“I know,” Zoey growled, her tail lashing in frustration. The alien fighter streaked ahead, a fiery blur against the dark horizon. “But I’m not letting that bastard go.”
As if sensing her determination, a crackling voice broke over the comms, the alien pilot’s tone mocking and distorted. The words were warped, broken, but still carried an unmistakable malice.
“You… broken… shadow…” the voice hissed, each syllable stretched unnaturally. “Return… home… we… wait… for… you.”
Zoey’s grip tightened on the controls, her claws scratching the metal. She forced herself to focus, her voice a razor-sharp growl. “I’ll show you broken, you scaly piece of shit.”
Etrius’s voice cut through her fury. “They’re baiting you. Don’t let them win.”
“Not planning to,” she snapped, but she eased the throttle back, keeping the Donnerdrache below the dangerous threshold of sonic speed. The alien craft was fast, but its damaged engine left a trail of heat and smoke that the targeting systems couldn’t miss.
Etrius adjusted his aim from the roof turret, the barrel glowing faintly in the dark. “Bring us closer, but don’t push it. I’ve got a shot lined up.”
Zoey nodded, her movements precise as she guided the VTOL into range. The alien pilot must have realized the danger because their craft twisted in erratic, desperate maneuvers, weaving through the sky like a wounded bird.
“Not so cocky now, are you?” Zoey muttered.
The alien fighter suddenly flipped, heading directly for them, its lasers firing wildly. Zoey reacted instantly, banking hard to avoid the assault. The canopy flashed red as a beam skimmed past, but the Donnerdrache held steady.
Etrius seized the opening. “Gotcha,” he murmured, squeezing the trigger.
The turret unleashed a final burst, the rounds punching through the alien craft’s failing shields and tearing into its engine. The fighter exploded in a brilliant flash of light, the shockwave rattling the Donnerdrache but leaving it intact.
Zoey exhaled sharply, her heart pounding. She steadied the VTOL, leveling it out as the debris scattered into the sea below. “That’s the last of ‘em,” she said, her voice rough but steady.
Etrius climbed back down into the cockpit, settling into the copilot seat. “Good flying,” he said simply, glancing at her burned chest. “How’s that holding up?”
“Fucking hurts like hell,” she admitted, slumping back in her seat. Her scales were singed, the burn throbbing dully, but she waved it off. “I’ll live.”
Etrius nodded, his expression unreadable. “We’ll patch it up when we land. For now, let’s get back on course. No telling how many more of them are out there.”
Zoey didn’t reply immediately. Her eyes lingered on the cracked canopy and the faint scorch marks that marred the cockpit. The alien’s words echoed in her mind, stirring memories she’d rather bury. She clenched her jaw and pushed the thoughts away.
The cockpit of the Donnerdrache was quiet except for the hum of the engines and the occasional creak of its frame as it adjusted to the turbulence. Zoey leaned back in the pilot’s seat, her chest still stinging from the burn, though the pain had faded to a dull ache.
“We wait for you.” The phrase carried a weight that stuck with her, coiling in her gut like a knot. Her ears twitched as Etrius finally broke the silence.
“They don’t talk much,” he began, his tone carefully measured, “but when they do, it’s never random. That wasn’t just trash talk. They wanted you to hear that.”
Zoey shot him a sidelong glance, her tail flicking. “Yeah, I got that,” she said, her voice sharp with irritation. “Doesn’t mean I know what the hell it means. ‘We wait for you’? Wait for me where? Germany? That goddamned facility? Somewhere else?”
Etrius shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Could be literal. Could be a trap. Or it could be psychological—something to keep you off balance.”
Zoey barked a bitter laugh, her sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the console. “Off balance? Newsflash, stripes, I’ve been off balance since these scaly pricks showed up in my life. If they’re trying to mess with my head, they’re wasting their time. I don’t have enough sanity left to lose.”
He didn’t smile, didn’t so much as twitch. His green eyes fixed on her, unwavering. “They’ve been chasing you for months, Zo. And they’re persistent—organized. That’s not random. That’s not just some rogue faction out to make a name for themselves. They’ve got a purpose. This is part of it.”
Zoey growled low in her throat, glaring out at the horizon where the first hints of dawn began to lighten the sky. “I know that,” she snapped, though her anger wasn’t directed at him. “I just don’t know what. What the hell do they want from me? Why do they care so much about one mangled merc with a bad attitude and PTSD?”
Etrius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His long fingers tapped idly against his cybernetic arm, the metal producing a faint, rhythmic click. “You. Your Titan suit. Your DNA. The infection. Hell, it could be all of it. You’re not exactly a standard model, Zoey. Never have been. They could be looking to weaponize what makes you… you.”
Zoey snorted, though the sound lacked humor. “Great. So I’m the ultimate prototype now? That’s just perfect. I didn’t ask to be a science project, Etrius. First the Nazis, then the Americans, and now these freaks? How many more times do I have to be someone’s experiment?”
Etrius’s gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. “Maybe it’s not just about you, though. Think bigger. These aliens—this race—they’re advanced, but they don’t act like explorers or conquerors. They’re focused. Targeted. They’ve invested resources and time hunting you down. That’s… specific. Personal.”
Zoey turned to face him fully, her brow furrowed. “You think it’s more than just me? What, they’ve got some big master plan involving whatever’s left of that godforsaken facility?”
“It’s possible,” Etrius said. “You said it yourself—Germany is a graveyard for you. But for them? It could be the opposite. If they know about the experiments, the tech, the biological research—everything that place represents—it might be the key to something they’re after.”
Zoey gritted her teeth, her claws digging into the armrests. “They’re not getting it. I don’t care what’s in that place. I’ll burn it to the ground again before I let them have it.”
“Assuming we get there first,” Etrius pointed out. “They’re fast. And organized. If they’re waiting for you, they’re waiting for a reason. We have to assume they’re already a step ahead.”
Zoey’s tail lashed behind her, the spade-like tip thumping against the seat. “Then why the games? Why the taunts? If they wanted me dead, they’ve had plenty of chances to try harder. Instead, they keep playing cat and mouse, throwing their toys at me and then whispering creepy shit like that.”
Etrius tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe they don’t want you dead. Maybe they want you alive.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and cold. Zoey didn’t respond immediately. Her sharp teeth clenched as she stared out the windshield, watching the sun rise slowly over the horizon.
“If they want me alive,” she said finally, her voice low and venomous, “they’re gonna wish they didn’t.”
Etrius didn’t argue. He sat back, his cybernetic fingers tapping against the armrest as he mulled over the alien’s message. “We’ll figure it out,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. “Whatever they’re planning, whatever this all means, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
Zoey didn’t look at him, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly. The fight might have been over, but the real battle was only just beginning.
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