Skyward Ambitions

With Furina now officially a First Officer for Air Fontania's 737 MAX fleet, she could finally begin flying commercial flights. The news of her achievement spread like wildfire among Air Fontania's pilots. Many were eager to work with her and learn more about the young aviator who had already built a reputation for her skill and determination.

Three Days Later... The suburbs of Narbonnais were bathed in the soft glow of dawn. Inside her modest, modern home, Furina sat at her dining table, the morning light filtering through the blinds and reflecting off the polished surface. The clock read 5:30 AM, and she was scrolling through the flight assignments on her tablet, her Speedmaster watch's NATO strap glinting faintly in the light.

"Come on," she muttered to herself, swiping up on the screen with a mix of anticipation and nerves. Her sharp eyes scanned the listings until one caught her attention: Fontania 1013 — Marcotte International Airport to Bourou International Airport. The scheduled departure was at 8:00 AM, with a flight time of 3 hours and 15 minutes.

Her finger hovered over the screen for a moment before she tapped the assignment. The confirmation beep sounded, and Furina exhaled deeply.

"Alright," she said softly, leaning back in her chair. "That's set. Time to get ready."

She stood and headed to her room, where her uniform hung neatly, pressed and pristine. Furina changed into her crisp white pilot's shirt, black trousers, and midnight blue tie. She adjusted the three-striped epaulets on her shoulders and carefully pinned on her silver wings. With one last glance in the mirror, she struck a confident pose and smiled.

"Looking good, Furina," she told her reflection, the hint of nervousness in her voice betraying her excitement.

She grabbed her luggage—a reliable Luggageworks Executive Series case favored by many pilots—and her compact pilot's bag. Inside were her Fontaine passport, pilot licenses, and meticulously updated logbook. Everything was ready. She locked her house, walked down to her driveway, and loaded her bags into the frunk of her Gallardo Superleggera. The bright morning sun reflected off the car's gleaming surface as she slid into the driver's seat.

The V10 engine roared to life with a deep, satisfying growl as Furina buckled her five-point harness. She reversed out of the driveway with precision, her heart pounding in time with the rhythmic growl of the engine.

By the time Furina reached the Air Fontania staff parking lot, the lot was coming to life with activity. She pulled into a spot beside a pristine Lancia Rally 037, the iconic car belonging to none other than Captain Clorinde.

The timing couldn't have been better. Just as Furina stepped out, Clorinde was exiting her own car, unfastening her harness. Furina stretched after the drive and popped the frunk to retrieve her luggage.

Clorinde noticed her and walked over with a smile, her sharp eyes twinkling with recognition.

"Didn't know you owned a Gallardo Superleggera, First Officer Furina," Clorinde said with a teasing whistle.

Furina jumped slightly at the sound of Clorinde's voice, quickly turning around. "Oh! It's you!"

Clorinde chuckled. "Good morning, Furina."

"Good morning, Captain," Furina replied with a polite nod, feeling a bit self-conscious under Clorinde's gaze.

With her luggage secured, Furina locked the car, and the pair began walking toward Terminal 2.

"Ready for your first flight, Furina?" Clorinde asked.

Furina hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Not gonna lie, Captain... I'm a bit nervous."

Clorinde gave her a reassuring smile. "Just relax. Do exactly what you've been doing during training. You've got this."

"Noted," Furina said, exhaling deeply.

They walked in silence for a moment before Furina glanced over. "Are you flying today, Captain?"

Clorinde smirked. "Yes and no. I'm merely monitoring."

Furina raised an eyebrow. "Monitoring what?"

Clorinde's smirk widened. "Your flight."

Furina froze mid-step, her eyes wide. "M-Mine?"

Clorinde nodded. "That's right. Your captain today is Wriothesley. Don't worry; he's one of the kindest pilots in Air Fontania. You're in excellent hands."

"Y-Yes, Captain," Furina stammered, trying to suppress her nervous energy.

After clearing security without issue, the duo entered the dispatch office, where the atmosphere buzzed with morning energy. Pilots and crew milled about, preparing for their assignments.

Clorinde spotted Wriothesley at the counter and walked over, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

"Captain Wriothesley?"

He turned, flashing a friendly smile. "Captain Clorinde, good morning!"

"Good morning," Clorinde replied, gesturing for Furina to join them.

Furina stepped forward, feeling slightly out of place beside the two seasoned captains.

"Wriothesley, this is First Officer Furina," Clorinde said. "You've heard of her, yes?"

Wriothesley extended a hand with a grin. "Of course! Nice to finally meet you, Miss Furina. The other pilots have been singing your praises."

Furina shook his hand, her cheeks flushing faintly. "O-Oh, um... Nice to meet you too, Captain."

Wriothesley gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Relax. You're going to do great. Let's head to the plane and get things started."

The trio walked to Gate D28 in Terminal 2's Delta section, making their way onto the jet bridge. The sleek 737 MAX awaited them, its engines silent but imposing.

Wriothesley entered the cockpit first, placing his luggage in the compartment behind the captain's seat before settling in. Furina followed, carefully stowing her bags beside his. Meanwhile, Clorinde, clipboard in hand, moved through the cabin to begin her inspection of the aircraft.

As Furina adjusted her seat and headset, Wriothesley turned to her with an encouraging smile.

"Welcome aboard, First Officer Furina. Let's make this a flight to remember."

Furina straightened her tie, her nerves momentarily forgotten in the rush of excitement. This was it—the moment she'd been working toward for so long.

"Yes, Captain," she said firmly, determination gleaming in her eyes.

The 737 MAX sat on the tarmac in its turnaround state, having just arrived from Brightcrown International Airport. Ground crew members bustled around the aircraft, replenishing food and beverage supplies, cleaning the cabin, and inspecting the aircraft's exterior. The faint hum of equipment and the occasional murmur of communication on the ground radio created a symphony of preparation.

In the cockpit, Wriothesley and Furina were seated, ready to begin their pre-flight briefing. Wriothesley adjusted his headset and turned to Furina with an encouraging smile.

"Nice to finally meet you, Miss Furina. So, for today's flight, we'll be heading to Bourou International Airport. It's about three hours, depending on wind and traffic conditions," he began, his tone calm and reassuring. "For this flight, I'll have you as the Pilot in Command, and I'll act as the Pilot Monitoring. It's your show today."

Furina blinked in surprise but quickly composed herself. "Understood, Captain."

"I've checked the airport ATIS frequency. Winds are calm at 345 degrees, four knots. We'll be departing Runway 27 Left. Now, if anything happens during the takeoff roll, don't hesitate to abort. We'll taxi off and figure out what's going on. If you have questions at any point, don't hesitate to ask me. Got it?"

Furina nodded, her hands resting on her lap to hide their slight tremble. "Got it."

With a confident nod, Wriothesley began his pre-flight checks, starting with the overhead panel. He tested bulbs, oxygen, fire bells, the stick shaker, and the overspeed warning system. The cockpit filled with familiar clicks, beeps, and the occasional whoop of alarms as he systematically worked through the checklist.

Meanwhile, Furina focused on programming the Flight Management Computer (FMC). Her fingers danced over the keypad, inputting the flight plan, performance data, and waypoints. She double-checked the departure and arrival routes, confirming everything was as briefed.

Boarding Complete

An hour passed, and the aircraft was ready. The passengers were seated, and the final safety checks had been completed. Clorinde returned to the cockpit, a clipboard in hand. She tapped Furina and Wriothesley on the shoulder, her expression calm and composed.

"Everything's in order. We're good to go. We have 160 passengers and five cabin crew onboard," she reported, stepping back to secure the cockpit door.

After retracting the jump seat, Clorinde settled into it, ready to observe the flight.

Wriothesley turned to Furina with a playful smirk. "Time for your welcome announcement, Furina."

Furina's eyes widened. "M-Me?"

"Of course! You're the PIC today. Plus, don't tell me you're not looking forward to it," he teased, leaning back in his seat.

Furina hesitated but then took a deep breath. She picked up the PA microphone, her grip tightening slightly as she brought it to her lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. From the flight deck, we'd like to welcome you aboard Air Fontania Flight 1013, service from Marcotte International to Bourou International. Estimated flight time is three hours and fifteen minutes. I'm your Pilot in Command, First Officer Furina, and to my left is Captain Wriothesley.

"In a few moments, we'll begin pushback, and our flight attendants will demonstrate the safety features of this Boeing 737 MAX aircraft. Please pay close attention, as this is for your safety. Once again, thank you for choosing Air Fontania, and welcome aboard."

She tucked the microphone away, turning to Wriothesley and Clorinde with an expectant look. "How was it?"

Wriothesley nodded approvingly. "That... was very well done, Furina."

Clorinde smiled. "Excellent work, Furina. You sounded calm, confident, and professional."

Furina felt a wave of relief wash over her, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Pushback and Engine Start

Furina activated the radio. "Flight deck to ground?"

The tug driver responded promptly, his voice crackling through the headset. "Go ahead, ma'am."

"We've received ATC clearance for pushback and engine start."

"Roger that. All doors and hatches are closed, and we're ready for pushback. Release parking brakes when ready."

Furina reached for the overhead panel, verifying that the beacon lights were on, the pressurization panel was set, and the APU bleed air switch was engaged. After a final check, she disengaged the parking brake.

"Parking brakes released," she confirmed.

"Roger. Starting pushback. Cleared for engine start," came the response.

The aircraft began to roll back slowly as the tug pushed it away from the gate. Furina glanced out the window, checking her side. "Clear right."

Wriothesley mirrored her actions. "Clear left."

Furina switched off the aircraft's packs, watching as the bleed pressure needles began to climb. She reached for the Engine 2 ignition switch and set it to GND.

"Starting Engine Two," she announced.

The engine spooled up with a faint whine, and Furina's eyes remained fixed on the N2 gauge on the MFD. As the gauge climbed past 20%, the MOTORING message briefly appeared before disappearing. Once N2 reached 25%, she flicked the fuel cutoff switch to RUN. The engine roared to life, its vibrations resonating through the cockpit as the EGT rose and N1 stabilized at idle.

"Engine Two stabilized," Furina called out.

"Good. Start Engine One," Wriothesley prompted.

Furina repeated the process, her movements now fluid and confident. After a few minutes, both engines were stabilized. Wriothesley switched the electrical system from the APU to the engine generators, then powered down the APU. Furina adjusted the air panel, switching off the APU bleed and enabling the engine bleeds. She set the packs to AUTO and closed the isolation valve.

The tug stopped at Taxiway Golf Three, aligning the aircraft perfectly for departure. The driver's voice crackled through the radio. "Tug is disconnected, and bypass pin has been removed. Have a great first flight, Miss Furina!"

Furina glanced out the window, spotting the tug driver holding the bypass pin aloft with a thumbs-up. She returned the gesture with a smile, feeling a surge of pride.

The tug pulled away, and Furina exhaled slowly, gripping the controls.

"All set," Wriothesley said. "Take us to the skies, First Officer."

Furina nodded, her nerves melting away as she focused on the task ahead. It was time to make her mark.

Wriothesley began the Before Taxi Checklist, adjusting the flap handle to Flaps 10. He confirmed the autobrakes were set to RTO and checked the trim indicator to ensure it was within the green band.

"All set on my end," he said, looking to Furina.

Furina nodded, her confidence steady as she prepared to conduct the flight control check.

"Flight control check," she announced.

She pressed the STAT button, switching the MFD display from engine parameters to the status page. The screen displayed critical data: tire pressure, hydraulic quantity, and the movements of the flight control surfaces.

Starting with the yoke, Furina pulled it gently toward her, watching as the elevators on the MFD moved upward.

"Up," she said.

She then pushed the yoke forward, noting the elevators dipping on the display.

"Down."

Next, she returned the yoke to neutral and turned it left, observing the aileron movement on the screen.

"Left."

She repeated the action to the right.

"Right."

Finally, Furina moved her feet to the rudder pedals. Pressing the left pedal, she confirmed the rudder moved accordingly.

"Rudder left."

She neutralized the rudder before pushing the right pedal.

"Rudder right."

Wriothesley nodded, satisfied. "Flight control checks complete."

Furina switched the MFD display back to the engine page. "Ready for taxi."

Wriothesley called for taxi clearance. "Marcotte Ground, Fontania One Zero One Three, on Golf Three, requesting taxi."

The response crackled through the radio: "Fontania One Zero One Three, taxi to Runway Two Seven Left via Golf Three, Tango Fox One, Echo, Quebec. Hold short Two Seven Left at Quebec Six."

Wriothesley read it back. "Taxi Two Seven Left via Golf Three, Tango Fox One, Echo, Quebec. Holding short at Quebec Six. Fontania One Zero One Three."

He turned to Furina with a grin. "Your aircraft."

"My aircraft," Furina replied confidently.

Her left hand on the throttle and right hand on the tiller, Furina began to taxi. She eased the aircraft forward, gradually accelerating to 10 knots. A gentle press on the brakes followed, testing their responsiveness.

"Brakes checked," she announced.

The taxi to Runway 27L was smooth, with minimal traffic on Marcotte's taxiways that morning. The aircraft glided over the painted yellow lines, the low hum of the engines and the occasional call from ATC filling the cockpit.

As they approached Taxiway Q6, Marcotte Ground contacted them again.

"Fontania One Zero One Three, contact Marcotte Tower at 119.250. Good morning."

Wriothesley responded, "One One Nine Two Five Zero. Fontania One Zero One Three. Thank you."

He switched the VHF frequencies and checked in with the tower. "Marcotte Tower, good morning. Fontania One Zero One Three holding short Two Seven Left at Quebec Six."

Cleared for Takeoff

Moments later, the tower replied, "Fontania One Zero One Three, good morning. Runway Two Seven Left. Winds one seven eight at six. Cleared for takeoff."

Wriothesley acknowledged, "Runway Two Seven Left, cleared for takeoff. Fontania One Zero One Three."

Furina disengaged the parking brake and taxied onto the runway. As she lined up the aircraft with the centerline, Wriothesley adjusted the lighting, switching the NAV lights to NAV and Strobe, and turning on the landing lights.

Furina positioned the aircraft squarely on the centerline, nodding in readiness. She advanced the throttles to 50% N1, allowing the engines to stabilize.

"Takeoff thrust, one," she called, pressing the TOGA switch. The autothrottle pushed the thrust levers forward to a derated 96% N1.

Wriothesley confirmed, "Thrust set."

The airspeed tape came alive, the numbers climbing steadily.

"Eighty knots," Wriothesley called.

"Check," Furina replied, her eyes scanning the PFD.

The aircraft continued to accelerate.

"V1."

Furina placed her left hand on the yoke, ready for rotation.

"Rotate," Wriothesley announced.

Furina pulled gently on the yoke, and the 737 MAX responded, its nose lifting gracefully off the runway. Moments later, the main gear left the ground, and Furina pitched the aircraft to 15 degrees.

"Positive rate of climb," Wriothesley said, verifying the vertical speed.

"Gear up," Furina commanded, her focus unwavering.

Wriothesley raised the landing gear handle. The familiar sound of the gears retracting filled the cockpit, and the drag noise faded.

Marcotte Tower called in. "Fontania One Zero One Three, contact Departure. Safe travels."

"Over to Departure. Fontania One Zero One Three," Wriothesley responded, switching the frequency. "Marcotte Departure, good morning. Fontania One Zero One Three, Flight Level Two Seven, climbing to Flight Level Eight Zero."

"Fontania One Zero One Three, good morning. Climb via the SID to Flight Level Three Four Zero," the controller replied.

"Climb via the SID to Flight Level Three Four Zero. Fontania One Zero One Three."

At Furina's command, Wriothesley adjusted the flaps incrementally:

"Flaps five," Furina called.

"Flaps five," Wriothesley confirmed, pulling the handle.

"Flaps up," she requested moments later.

"Flaps up," Wriothesley echoed, retracting them fully.

Reaching for the MCP, Furina engaged Autopilot CMD Right, letting the system take control.

"Autopilot right," she announced, releasing the yoke.

As the aircraft settled into its climb, Furina exhaled deeply, her shoulders finally relaxing.

From her jump seat, Clorinde lowered her phone, which had been recording the entire takeoff. She leaned forward and patted Furina on the shoulder.

"Great job, Furina."

Furina gave her a thumbs-up, a proud but modest smile lighting her face.

The 737 MAX cruised steadily at Flight Level 340, its engines humming softly as it soared over the endless blue expanse of the ocean, en route to Inazuma. The morning sunlight poured through the cockpit windows, scattering over the panels and filling the cabin with a golden glow.

Furina sat back in her seat, her aviator sunglasses resting on her nose. She gazed out the window to her right, watching the cloud layers drift far below.

Wriothesley's voice broke the silence. "Furina?"

Turning to her left, she replied, "Yes, Captain?"

He gave her a thumbs-up, his expression warm. "Nicely done on the takeoff."

Furina smiled faintly, a mix of pride and humility in her tone. "Thank you, Captain."

Personal Stories

The two settled into a conversation as the autopilot handled the flight.

Wriothesley began, "You own your own aircraft, right, Furina?"

Furina nodded. "That's right. A Piper Comanche 250."

Wriothesley raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A Comanche?"

"That's right," Furina said, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. "She's the bird that got me my CPL. Even earned my instrument ratings on her."

Wriothesley leaned back, visibly impressed. "Well, that's a classic. Great performance for its time."

Furina chuckled. "She's been good to me. And you, Captain? Do you have a plane?"

Wriothesley nodded, a small grin forming. "I do. A Beechcraft Bonanza V-tail."

Furina's eyes lit up. "The iconic V-tail! I've always admired those. A unique design and remarkably stable."

Wriothesley chuckled. "Agreed. And unmistakable, too. You don't see many like her anymore."

After a brief pause, Wriothesley shifted the topic. "So, is aviation in your family? Anyone else a pilot?"

Furina shook her head. "Not exactly. My parents both work for the Court of Fontaine, so I'm the first in the family to take to the skies. My inspiration came from my dad's brother—he flies a Dassault Rafale for the Armée de l'Air."

Wriothesley nodded in approval. "That's impressive. Did your parents support your decision?"

Furina hesitated, shrugging slightly. "My dad? Not really. He wanted me to stay on the ground and serve justice in Fontaine. My mom, though, was all in."

Wriothesley chuckled, shaking his head. "Bet your dad's eating his words now."

"Oh, definitely," Furina said with a laugh. "He once told me I didn't belong in the air. Now he can't stop bragging about me to his colleagues."

Wriothesley's voice softened. "From what I've seen, Furina, you absolutely belong in the air. That takeoff earlier? Smooth as butter. It's like you've been flying this bird for years. How do you do it?"

Furina smiled sheepishly. "I've always been a self-starter. I'd study at home—manuals, checklists, procedures. I even practiced on my home simulator."

Clorinde, seated behind them, chimed in. "That's the best way to do it, Furina. Solid preparation beats guesswork every time."

Furina turned her head toward Clorinde. "Speaking of training, what happened to Cadet Albert?"

Clorinde sighed. "Oh, him. I gave him a second chance during a live training session with touch-and-goes. Same issues—flaring too late, slamming the plane onto the runway. And he couldn't handle a simple crosswind. On his second attempt, he nearly had a pod strike with the right engine."

Furina winced. "Ouch. Did he improve at all?"

Clorinde shook her head. "Nope. Still overconfident and dismissive. Worse, he started arguments with other cadets. Since he was sent by Mond Air, I wrote to them after I dropped him from the program. Behavioral issues and a lack of airmanship—it wasn't worth keeping him on."

Furina exhaled, leaning back in her seat. "That's rough. Sounds like he hasn't changed at all."

Wriothesley frowned. "That kind of attitude doesn't just cost opportunities; it can cost lives. How he got his PPL and CPL beats me."

Clorinde nodded firmly. "Exactly. A bad attitude and arrogance have no place in aviation."

Furina added, "It's not just about skill—it's about judgment, teamwork, and respect for the profession."

The three fell into a brief silence, the hum of the engines filling the cockpit once more. Despite the somber tone of their discussion, it was clear they shared a mutual respect for the dedication and responsibility that came with flying.

After a smooth cruise across the ocean, Fontania One Zero One Three is now making its descent into Inazuma. The sun peeks over the horizon, casting golden hues over the land as the aircraft approaches Bourou International Airport.

In the cockpit, Captain Wriothesley radios in with practiced calmness.

"Bourou Approach, Fontania One Zero One Three. Established on the localizer for Runway One Six Right."

The response crackles through the radio.

"Fontania One Zero One Three, roger. Contact Bourou Tower on 122.70. Good morning."

"122.70, Fontania One Zero One Three. Good morning," Wriothesley acknowledges before switching frequencies and checking in.

"Bourou Tower, good morning. Fontania One Zero One Three, fully established on ILS Runway One Six Right."

"Fontania One Zero One Three, hello. Caution wake turbulence from an All Inazuman Airways Boeing Triple Seven. Runway One Six Right cleared to land."

Wriothesley responds crisply.

"One Six Right cleared to land, Fontania One Zero One Three."

Furina nods, her focus unwavering. "Landing checklist, please."

Wriothesley retrieves the card, his tone steady. "Landing checklist. Flaps."

Furina glances at the indicator, confirming. "Flaps thirty."

"Spoilers?"

She reaches for the control, verifying the system. "Spoilers armed."

"Landing gear?"

Furina checks the panel. The indicators glow with reassurance. "Gear down, three greens."

"Landing speed?"

"Speed one-three-eight at flaps forty," Furina reports, referencing the landing performance page.

"Landing checklist complete," Wriothesley concludes, tucking the card away.

Furina toggles the PA system and announces with a calm voice,

"Cabin crew, please be seated for landing."

The aircraft slices smoothly through the air, and the GPWS begins its monotone reminders.

"One thousand."

Wriothesley calls out, "One thousand, stabilized. Missed approach altitude set."

The aircraft continues its descent, the runway lights glowing steadily closer.

"Five hundred."

"Four hundred."

"Three hundred."

"Approaching minimums."

"Minimums."

Furina's voice cuts through the rhythmic calls. "Continue approach."

Her thumb presses the autopilot disconnect button, and the familiar triple chime fills the cockpit. She grips the yoke with confidence.

"My aircraft," she declares.

"Your aircraft," Wriothesley affirms.

"Two hundred."

"One hundred."

"Fifty... Forty... Thirty... Twenty."

Furina smoothly pulls the throttles to idle and gently flares, allowing the main gears to kiss the runway.

"Ten."

The aircraft settles gracefully, and the spoilers deploy with a satisfying hiss. Furina pulls the thrust reversers into position as Wriothesley monitors.

"Spoilers deployed. Reverse two greens."

The nose gear touches down lightly as Furina takes manual control of the braking. The aircraft decelerates steadily. At sixty knots, she applies manual braking, ensuring a smooth and gradual slowdown. By thirty knots, the reverse thrust is disengaged, and the spoilers retract with a quick flick of the throttles.

"Fontania One Zero One Three, welcome to Bourou. Left when able, contact ground at 121.85," ATC directs.

Wriothesley responds confidently, "Left when able, onto ground at 121.85. Goodbye."

Clorinde claps from her seat and grins. "First passenger flight landing, Furina—that was butter!"

Furina blushes at the compliment but manages a composed nod. "Thank you, Clorinde."

Wriothesley switches to ground frequency and radios in.

"Bourou Ground, good morning. Fontania One Zero One Three, vacated at Alpha Seven."

"Fontania One Zero One Three, welcome to Bourou. Taxi to Gate One Seven via Whiskey Eleven, Whiskey, and Whiskey Five."

"Taxi to Gate One Seven via Whiskey Eleven, Whiskey, Whiskey Five. Fontania One Zero One Three," Wriothesley confirms.

As he sets the aircraft for taxiing—flaps retracted, landing and strobe lights turned off, taxi lights and APU engaged—the crew feels a sense of accomplishment.

Minutes later, Fontania One Zero One Three sits quietly at Gate 17, her engines silent after a successful journey. Passengers disembark with cheerful expressions, their words of gratitude echoing faintly in the background.

In the cockpit, Wriothesley and Clorinde turn to face Furina, their smiles warm with pride.

"Congratulations on your first commercial flight, Miss Furina!" Wriothesley says, his voice full of genuine admiration.

"You handled it like a champ!" Clorinde adds, giving a thumbs up.

Furina blushes, a small, bashful smile forming on her lips. "Th-thank you! Thank you both so much!"

Her voice trembles slightly, but her joy shines through.

Minutes later, Fontania One Zero One Three sits quietly at Gate 17, her engines silent after a successful journey. Passengers disembark with cheerful expressions, their words of gratitude echoing faintly in the background.

In the cockpit, Wriothesley and Clorinde turn to face Furina, their smiles warm with pride.

"Congratulations on your first commercial flight, Miss Furina!" Wriothesley says, his voice full of genuine admiration.

"You handled it like a champ!" Clorinde adds, giving a thumbs up.

Furina blushes, a small, bashful smile forming on her lips. "Th-thank you! Thank you both so much!"

Her voice trembles slightly, but her joy shines through.

Later, the aircraft stands empty, the bustling energy of passengers replaced by a serene quiet. Furina and Clorinde step into the terminal for a well-deserved break, leaving Wriothesley to handle post-flight checks.

At a café near the gate, Clorinde settles into a chair with a cup of coffee. Furina, however, lingers by the window, her gaze fixed on the 737 MAX she had just piloted. The sleek plane gleams under the airport lights, a testament to the journey it had completed under her command.

Clorinde watches from her seat, a proud smile softening her usually sharp features. "She's got so much talent," she murmurs to herself. "And she's still so young. At just 20 years old, she's already the youngest commercial pilot in the world. What an incredible future she has ahead of her... A bright, long journey."

Furina, unaware of Clorinde's quiet musings, wipes away a single tear as the magnitude of her accomplishment finally settles in.

"You did it, Furina... That's your first commercial flight," she whispers to her reflection in the window, her voice barely audible over the hum of the terminal.

It's official. Furina has flown her first commercial flight, joining the ranks of professional aviators. Not only that, but she now holds the record as the youngest commercial pilot in the world—a title earned through determination, skill, and passion.

And as she gazes at the plane, a quiet resolve fills her heart. This is just the beginning.