Chapter Zero

  Within a single week since departing Kairyu, 10 year old Naito Otaka (大鷹 内斗) found himself across the other side of the Magellan Ocean, enjoying the tropical breeze of Puanani’s eternal summer.

  A massive audience packed the Puanani Island Racing Stadium for the 13th International Air Race to gawk at the latest advancements of aerospace engineering, or simply to cheer for their favorite celebrity racer.

  Designed like an airfield, the stadium was situated on the northern tip of the bay with a runway that pierced into the ocean like a pair of massive piers made of steel and asphalt: making it also a very popular spot among local fishermen during the off-season.

  Cone shaped balloons were linked up in a line that stretched deep into the ocean blue, on large floaters that hoisted themselves up 30 meters like massive banners. These balloons served as the air racing pylons, and with the piers they looped into a race track. Each plane was to fly outside of the ring of pylons for their lap to count, and clipping a pylon added 15 seconds to their overall time. Within the Pylon ring, several boats were at standby with lifeboats and spare balloons at the ready.

  The dozen finalists buzzed in the air with their aircraft, constantly trying to overtake each other. At speeds exceeding 200 knots, each pilot constantly maintained awareness of their surroundings, and rapidly swerved their heads to check where their mirrors couldn’t.

  Air racing was the fastest sport ever invented, and like all motorsports, accidents can be fatal.

  Through trial and error, many safety measures were put in place to minimize the risks over the years, such as hiring armored Apexers standing ready to protect the crowd from bodily harm, and Espers to create anti-telepathic fields to protect the racers from possible sabotage. Racing pylons were built on floats placed over large bodies of water instead of dry land. Still, several brave pilots and spectators were lost during the infancy of the sport, but massive crowds still gathered and the races went on, each race bigger than before.

  Through his esper abilities, Naito was soaked in the energy of the crowd. The noise filtered into him into a harmony of the culture. The high-stakes emotions of the race, both the loud anticipation of winning and the quiet, lingering dread of envisioning your idol losing swept across the stadium seats in streams of soft translucent light that only espers can see.

  The anti-telepathic suppression field did much to dim his esper sight. Unlike a short ranged, forced reboot the suppression field could be cast farther and wider, amplified by additional Espers working in unison. Still, it was not a big deal, he had no desire to affect the outcome, his brother, Kaito (魁斗), was going to win regardless. The boy was enjoying the spectacle as is, and the antis couldn’t stop the collective, resonating wave of emotions of an entire stadium from leaking trickles of light into his mind. He harmonized with the information as a virtuoso resonates with music. Slowly the shouts were no longer feeling foreign, but familiar.

  “Skysprinter just passed Cloudstrike and Omaha for fifth, May G. Eira has managed to keep the lead so far, but the rest are not far behind! Will May G. Eira be able to maintain first place? ” shouted the loudspeakers. “Oh! Skysprinter just took fourth! Will history be made today? Or will Omaha remain as the only Triple Kings winner of this decade?”

  “That’s it, Skysprinter! LETS GO!!!” shouted a large, excited fan cheering in front of Naito, blocking a good chunk of his view.

  The ten year old was beginning to understand Novan, the language of the Federation. Just like how he absorbed Kairyugo simply by walking through the street markets of Kairyu.

  The planes approached the stadium in chaotic unison to close out the second lap and the race was still very close. Each plane pushed their propellers to their limit, hungry for the trophy and the glory it represented. When their collective turbulence flew past the spectators, a loud burst of wild winds was sent wuthering fiercely into the crowd. An explosive cheer echoed back to share the excitement.

  “I’m not sure, Jim. Troph?enritter just overtook ‘Ice Unicorn’ (冰麒麟) and is side by side with Flying Freedom, They’re forming a wall that is making it hard for Skysprinter to squeeze through! Skysprinter is boxed in!!”

  The planes made their turn on the first pylon of the track. Although the preliminary race had standardized planes for the sake of safety and fairness, the main event only had the fastest, most modified planes for performances that off the shelf parts simply couldn’t supply. Every plane had a unique design that experimented with the airframe and engines.

  The pilots pushed their machines to their limit as they rolled and took extremely sharp turns that compressed their bodies by seven times the planet’s gravity. The pilots took loud, heavy breaths as the pressure tried to suck the air out of their body. Once the noses of their planes pointed to the next pylon, the planes quickly rolled back to level themselves with the ocean surface and continued at top speed.

  Then Skysprinter exited the turn too quickly and nearly collided with Flying Freedom. He immediately turned left to avoid a potentially fatal accident only to tear through the next pylon.

  *rip*

  “Skysprinter just hit a pylon! I repeat, "Skysprinter just hit a pylon!” the announcer exclaimed!

  Skysprinter’s left wing cut right through the lightweight fabric and ripped it apart. The balloon immediately deflated, but not as deflated as Skysprinter’s dream of winning the Puanani Cup, completing his would-be-legendary Triple Kings run. History could have been made, but instead Skysprinter continued onward with a hefty time penalty and a complete loss of momentum. The plane suddenly found itself at 12th.

  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! FUUUUUUCK!! FUUUUUCK!! YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE YOU FLYING FUUUUUUUUCK!”, cried the former fan and he ripped his betting slips in anger-

  - and Naito learned another word.

  Naruhodo…‘Faakku’ dattanda! The boy concluded.

  A boat crew hastily replaced the deflated balloon and had a new pylon set up within minutes. The race continued as if nothing happened.

  A clear spatial divide between planes began to form between the top racers and the rookies as each turn separated the optimal from the suboptimal. The pilots left behind simply couldn’t catch up to those who flew like they were one with the plane.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Soon, the race was looking to wrap up no further issues. Kaito, piloting the May G. Eira, kept his lead as he exited the final turn and was a straight line away from the finish. Behind him was Flying Freedom. Kaito’s father had replaced the entirety of the plane with the lightest materials possible until it was a miracle that his aircraft didn’t break into pieces midflight, but the reduced weight was exactly what his engines needed to push ahead of the Federation’s star pilot.

  Suddenly, a heavily modified crop duster bolted ahead of both of them while its propellers were inflamed! Its engines were being fed with more dragonblood than any concerns for safety, and a complete lack of common sense.

  “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWW!!!!!!!” Screamed the pilot of the flying fireball.

  His chariot of fire crash landed on the finish line, sliding for another good distance because the landing gear was obliterated on impact. Technically he won, but his plane was completely totaled.

  The Confederate pilot, Elijah Rockwell Jr., climbed out of his cockpit by the skin of his teeth. The plane exploded into smithereens as he marched over to the trophy.

  The entire stadium was shocked beyond belief. Even the food vendors stopped what they were doing mid service.

  Hastily the final times for each racer were tallied.

  “.... and the winner is… Hail Mary, followed by May G. Eira and ‘Ice Unicorn’ …” the announcer sounded defeated.

  Flying Freedom claimed 4th, Omaha placed 6th, and Skysprinter came dead last.

  The winner just took the trophy and left; no photos or interviews given. The atmosphere remained tense until he was finally gone. Naito could tell even without his imperfect Novan that the New World Federation ‘fucking’ hated the New World Confederation and the feeling was mutual. Their Civil War ended with a ceasefire - an armistice, but never a formal peace treaty.

  So, they’ve divided themselves along the New World Channel, which cut through the upper and lower continent at the 38th parallel.

  And it’s been that way for over 70 years. Their current sitting president (or dictator depending on who you ask) was Kimmel Sun Johnson the 3rd, also known in the Northern Federation as…

  Kim Johnson, the dictator of the Southern Confederacy.

  The other planes landed on their respective landing strips before the 2nd and 3rd placements joined together for a photoshoot. The 4th place was also invited so that the winner’s podium looked less empty.

  The 13th International Air Race was the first time the Confederacy was allowed to compete within Federation controlled territory. Elijah had just disrespected an entire country from within their own territory as soon as they allowed him in.

  No way! I can’t believe Kaito lost!. lamented Naito. No word could describe his heartbreak.

  A rule was amended to the international air racing scene after this incident: all planes must remain sky worthy -*even after the race, until the end of the award ceremony.*

  ______________________________________________________________

  That night the Otaka family celebrated their silver trophy over a family dinner at a Suzakunese restaurant run by a second generation immigrant family. Many of their people had found work in the fruit and sugar plantations scattered across the islands over the decades when Suzaku (朱雀) was still a developing nation.

  Although many ingredients had to be substituted, Naito found the flavors to be savory and enjoyable, but seeing his older brother look so defeated soured his appetite.

  “Daijoubu Onii’chan?” He asked, genuinely worried.

  “Sorry, but I’m not.” Kaito admitted.

  Neither of the brothers finished their food, so their have-eaten saimin noodles were left on the table.

  “There might be another chance, right?”

  “Who knows. Kuso! I should have pushed the plane further!”

  His mother gave him the side eye, whether he wins or loses he shouldn't curse in front of his 10 year old brother. Even though they were brothers, the longevity of their bloodline often created a decade gap between siblings.

  “It’s not your fault, Kaito”, spoke his father, Akito Otaka (大鷹 秋斗). “You pushed the plane as hard as you possibly could, it was my fault for being unable to provide you the performance you deserved. You boys should relax and-”

  “Hey, turn it up! We all need to hear it!”

  A commotion gathered near the restaurant’s radio as the music was changed to a news broadcast.

  “*static* Imperials *brzzzz*open hostil-*static*Republic of Qilin (麒麟), more information *buzzz*-raveled.”said the radio box under heavy static until the owner readjusted the antenna for better reception.

  “Since Wood’s Day, the 18th of Sagittarius, the Imperial Suzaku Army has escalated the conflict against the Qilin forces into a full invasion. When the news arrived to the Crystal Throne, the god-emperor of Suzaku, Hitori (火鳥), gave them his blessings which immediately ratified the war. Hostilities began when the ISA went looking for their missing-’ “ the radio continued.

  “His prime minister condemned the attack and urged the emperor to reconsider. However, he and his supporters were shot multiple times on Flames Day the 23rd, by young radical junior officers who, according to all testimonies, ‘acted on their own.” and the news kept going.

  “In response, the international community has stripped Suzaku of its title as the host of the 1mahn1938 Pantheon games. The Empire of Suzaku has hereby been banned from all international competition henceforth.

  As the war continues, many Suzaku residents are still reporting flight delays from…”

  The entire Otaka family was left stunned. Without a gold trophy, Kaito wasn’t exempt from military recruitment. Naito looked at his brother and saw the face of a man trying to come to terms with the death sentence of his racing career.

  _________________________________________________________________________

  Meanwhile, the winter cold stayed in Kairyu (海龍), where Seong’hwa Kwang (???) was busy taking care of her grandmother. Despite her cough getting better thanks to the medicine, she was still recovering from a fever.

  Thankfully she lived near the edge of the town of Tokai (東海), towards the woods where she could look for firewood. The old wooden family hut was now blanketed in a layer of snow, and she was worried that she hadn’t stocked enough for the entire season. Her father usually brought home the wood during the end of autumn, but he still hadn’t returned.

  She tried to cook some porridge using some barley her neighbors gifted them as well as some wild grains her father once taught her to find.

  The girl looked at the flames, added in more broken branches, and hoped that would be enough for now. The little food she had rationed still had at least an hour or more to cook.

  The child checked on her grandmother one more time to find her asleep and snoring, so she left the house for more things to burn. The townsfolk would toss away unwanted furniture and other broken goods near the clearing, which meant it often had something to salvage.

  So alongside some more branches, she found a blank canvas that was torn in the center, as well as a broken picture frame; all were things she could use. She tied a small rope to the canvas and used it as a sled to drag the rest of the inflammable materials like a sled.

  Once back to the warmth of the stove, she quickly closed the sliding door so that the indoor heat wouldn’t escape, then the girl continued stirring the pot so that the bottom wouldn’t burn.

  A little later, she heard the front gate open and shut.

  When Seong’hwa went outside she saw a broken man who was carrying himself on crutches, missing an arm and a leg. The girl couldn’t recognize the figure’s silhouette, but instinctively knew it was her father.

  “Seong’hwa’ya”, the man greeted her with a weary smile. “I’m home.”

  She rushed out to embrace him with more tears than her eyes could pour out.