Green light.

The moment the little light switches color, I launch myself without hesitation from the rear ramp. The void doesn’t matter. The stakes don’t matter. Neither does the opposition. I tip forward, swallowed by the immensity of the sky as my tether disengages from the anchoring rail. All I hear is the whistle of air screaming past my ears. I glance back quickly, watching my people jump after me in single file. Then I stabilize, tucking my arms tight against my body to assume an aerodynamic posture, spear leveled so it pierces the air ahead of me. I let the weight of its tip pull me downward…

We’ve rehearsed the maneuver hundreds of times—during training and against other Leviathans alike. It’s become automatic, a reflex hammered into the flesh. No need to think anymore. Just let go of the reins.

I fall like a stone.

High above the clouds, I first feel as though I’m suspended in the blue. The wind lashes at me, pushing back. I feel the air scrape against my clothes, the cacophonous vibration of turbulent currents rippling through my body. But the closer I get to the cloud layer, the more aware I become of my speed. I glance briefly at my altimeter and watch the needle spin wildly, circling the dial again and again. I’ve already surpassed the diving speed of golden eagles and peregrine falcons… and I’m still accelerating.

The cloud cover rushes up, and through it I begin to make out my target. I clench my teeth. On my last jump, we repelled Alelo’s incursion with explosive spears. The Moray Eel-Leviathan had been more curious than aggressive. A few detonations were enough to drive it away from the convoy it was shadowing. But this time… this time will be different.

As I tear through the clouds, droplets streak across my visor, spattering my mask. The Leviathan appears in flashes. My gloved fingers tighten around the shaft of my spear. My hatred burns like a flame threatening to devour me from the inside. But I can’t let it consume me. I can’t let its glare blind me. Instead, I must claim it. Channel it. Use it.

It drifts through the sky, gliding above the suspended island like a kite. But no matter how graceful its flight, it wants only our destruction. I feel myself smile beneath my helmet. Time to give it a taste of its own medicine. In the end, there’s only one truth: it’s either it or us.

Halua.

Explosions blossom in its wake and along its path as the battleship Tempest fires its salvos at the monster. The batteries hurl everything they’ve got. From where I am, miles away, it looks more like fireworks than artillery fire. But I know they’re not meant to be effective—just to make it angry.

I check my interception vector and signal the others to get ready. Time to slow down. The timing has to be perfect for the plan to work.

I spread my arms and legs to decelerate, fixing my sights on the hollow forming within the floating archipelago. The VEA Tempest and Halua are weaving toward it between fragmented atolls, and that’s exactly where we’re going to drop on it—dead ahead.

The strategy is simple, very similar to the one used against the Kraken: first, find the Leviathan and provoke it; lure it into the trap; tighten the noose. It worked in Caer Oorun—at least the first part. And unsurprisingly, Halua has taken the bait. The opportunity is too good to pass up. It’s about to pay.

I narrow my eyes. A light blinks intermittently aboard the battleship, flashing Morse. It’s probably Maanus, giving us final instructions. He boarded the Tempest to track the Leviathan and coordinate the attack from the deck. I decode his message as I fall, committing the trajectory to memory and adjusting my heading accordingly.

The final stretch…

Five…

The battleship clears the edge of the island, skimming the rocky crest by just a few yards. Then, in an outrageously daring maneuver, it abruptly changes course and plunges toward the Sea of Tumult.

Four…

Halua dives after it, blinded by its own fury. The beat of its immense wings scatters small floating islets, sending them crashing into one another.

Three…

From its upper deck, the Tempest ejects row after row of Aerolith barrels. The capsules shoot straight up, pinning themselves in midair as their automatic buoys deploy.

Two…

With a simple press on the shaft, I activate my kelonic-propulsion spear and fire it toward the mines. All the lancers follow suit. Thrusters ignite, and the projectiles streak toward their targets trailing plumes of burning smoke.

One…

Halua passes just beneath the explosive field.

Contact.

If some spears miss, others strike—and in sufficient numbers. One mine detonates on impact, then another, then another, almost simultaneously. A chain reaction ripples outward, crackling like a string of firecrackers at a fair. A bouquet of explosions blooms above the Leviathan, forcing it to dive.

One by one, we deploy our parachutes, buffeted both by the snap of the canopy inflating and the turbulence from successive shockwaves.

The rustle of fabric above my head…

I remove my mask and murmur a few prayers. We’ve done what we had to do. Now all that’s left is confirmation. My eyes turn toward the Tempest, which guns its engines to flee as fast as possible. Halua, meanwhile, is driven toward the bottom of the depression—toward the trap we prepared for him. I whisper my pleas. Please let it work. Please let it work…

Even if it tries to climb, the Leviathan has to trace a wide arc… straight into the wolf’s jaws. For weeks, tugboats have been ferrying in stockpiles of Aerolith mined by the Axiom in the Pelagonian Quadrant. More than a kiloton of unstable material, ready to blow at the slightest spark. Their demolition experts planted the charges with care. All that remains is to press the—

Flash.

It begins as a single, silent spark—intense and terrifying. But the flare doesn’t stop there. It swallows several islands in its glare, disintegrating them as it passes. The blast vitrifies the rocky edges… It’s like the birth of a star, and I have to turn away to keep my retinas from burning.

Hang on tight.

Drowned in light, I fumble for my release strap and yank it hard. My first parachute detaches just before the shockwave slams into me. I’m suddenly hurled backward, and all I can do is keep my eyes shut and clench my teeth, curling into a fetal position to avoid being torn apart.

I don’t know how many times I tumble before I manage to stabilize, fighting all the while to control my ragged breathing. I finally open my eyes as the surface of the archipelago rushes up at breakneck speed. But my attention is fixed on the mushroom of flames still unfurling like a corolla as it rolls across the islands…

I search for any sign of the Leviathan and see only the inferno. One less monster…

Suddenly, a colossal shape bursts through the curtain of fire, surging upward like a beast straight out of hell. Halua is wounded, slashed from end to end. But it wasn’t enough. I scream in rage as I see it rise again, haloed in blazing contrails.

We’d prepared for this possibility, setting up a final line of defense. I see the hunters regroup, raising their impulse spears… but will it be enough? Basira’s words echo in my mind. The weight of responsibility… I can’t accept failure. I can’t believe I’ve led them all to their deaths…

My stomach knots. Somewhere inside me, a child is crying. I feel the grip of guilt—the guilt of having believed in fairy tales. My brother’s face flashes before me as he pores over anthropological sketches, his innocent smile. Tears blur my vision, and I try to turn my pain into fury. But despair drags me down. Am I still that child who believed in nonsense? Have I led everyone who trusted me to certain death?

I can’t accept that.

Suddenly, I pull myself together. I am the huntress. I am the one who sounds the death call. I breathe on the ember inside me and fan my flame.

No. I refuse.

I am the huntress, and I hold my javelin. I am the huntress, and I ride my steed. My fingers tighten around my kelonic spear as it hums to life. Beneath my feet, I feel the resistance of my board, find my footing as the thrusters ignite. By the Avgrunn, I am the huntress, and thus I bear her attributes: spear and mount. By Alteration, I summon them to me.

I ride the winds like waves, straight toward the monster to be slain. Now it’s just it and me. A face-off between knight and dragon.

But just as I’m about to strike, another silhouette emerges from the smoke, spreading its wings—a gigantic shadow of jade and emerald. The armored bird unfurls its plated feathers, blocking my path and forcing me to check my blow.

I veer at the last second, skimming past the armored avian. I twist around, torn between shock and hostility, just long enough to see the young shepherd clinging to its back. For a split second, our gazes meet—panic on one side, incomprehension on the other—before the mineral bird folds its wings and drops away to avoid the Leviathan’s charge.