Chapter Four: First Encounter

The night sky was breathtakingly beautiful. Though nighttime flights were far more dangerous than those in the daylight, Tetsuya still couldn’t help but fall in love with the sensation of soaring under the stars, relishing the freedom that came with gliding through the darkness.

“Is that thing... really an aircraft?” Maki stared at the radar in disbelief, watching the target’s speed. He could hardly accept what he was seeing.

Meanwhile, Kurashima felt the plane shudder violently; the radar needles swung wildly, and alarms buzzed incessantly inside the cockpit.

“What’s wrong, Kurashima?” Maki shouted through the radio.

“I don’t know—the instruments just failed!”

“Kurashima, return to base immediately!” Maki’s tone turned urgent. Instrument failure in a fighter jet was perilous; it could lead to a crash at any moment.

“But...” Kurashima hesitated.

“If you lose control, you'll crash. Leave the rest to me and Tetsuya!” Maki insisted, his voice firm.

On the other end, Tetsuya’s voice sounded, as carefree as ever: “Just leave the rest to us, Kurashima! You better head back—your wife’s waiting for you at home...”

There was a moment of silence before Kurashima finally replied in a low voice, “I’ll leave it to you.”

As Kurashima turned back, Tetsuya finally caught up from behind, flying his jet alongside Maki.

“I’ve been the backup for so long—today, I finally get to fly with you for real, Maki!” Tetsuya’s tone was almost jubilant, like a peasant singing after being freed from servitude.

Maki couldn’t help but laugh, at a loss for words. Usually, a fighter group flew in pairs as partners, but since Tetsuya was new to the 204th Squadron, he’d been tagging along with Maki and Kurashima, the three of them patrolling together with Tetsuya as backup.

Unwittingly, Maki’s tension faded, swept away by Tetsuya’s banter.

“Maki, listen—don’t try to set me up on blind dates anymore. I think I may have finally found one of the many I’m destined to meet in my life.”

Maki glanced at the radar. The target was nearly in locking range. Hearing Tetsuya’s words, he could only sigh, “Can’t you take flying seriously for once? And what do you mean, ‘one of the many’...?”

“Yeah, you know—the woman you’re destined to meet in this life. But I’m not like you guys. You only get one, but I get many...” Tetsuya answered with candid honesty.

Maki realized he’d underestimated Tetsuya’s shamelessness.

While Maki was briefly distracted by their exchange, Tetsuya suddenly pushed his jet ahead, its nose edging past Maki’s.

Then, on the radar, the target abruptly vanished just as they drew close. In their field of vision, a red glow began to illuminate a patch of the night sky.

A loud boom rang out.

At that moment, Tetsuya’s jet grazed past Maki’s, the two aircraft colliding slightly in midair. Instinctively, Maki tilted his jet sharply after feeling the jolt.

“Tetsuya, you—” Maki started, but the scene before him left him speechless: a massive red luminous mass was speeding toward the direction he’d just come from.

“Hey, Maki, I’ll tell you her name—it’s Saro Mizuhara. If... and I mean if I don’t make it out of this flight, you have to give her my photo and tell her that a dashing fighter pilot once had feelings for her. Tell her... I always wanted to see her smile.”

Tetsuya rambled on over the comms like an old woman, though he could now make out the shape of the red luminous body. His heart pounded with anxiety; no one knew if this encounter would succeed, or whether this was truly Ultraman’s light, or if it would mean his death.

“Damn it...” Maki was nearly frantic. In such a moment, Tetsuya was still babbling nonsense, and Maki could barely make sense of his words. His nerves taut as wire, Maki exerted all his strength to change course—after their earlier collision, his jet’s angle had been thrown off. Now, even though he was dangerously close to the red light, the angle was askew. With all his effort, Maki barely managed to skim past the glowing mass.

As he banked and circled back, Maki looked around—Tetsuya’s jet was nowhere in sight, only the red light receding rapidly into the distance.

“Tetsuya!”

As the crisis faded, Maki realized what had just happened. The collision hadn’t been an accident—Tetsuya had forced him to change course, to save him from being swallowed by the red glow at the last moment.

“Damn you... Damn kid!”

He’d thought he’d be elated at a moment like this, but Tetsuya found that his most primal reaction was still fear. It felt as if his jet were engulfed by the red light, and then in an instant, the crimson rays swept past. Silver light flashed before his eyes. Tetsuya forgot his fear, forgot everything—his consciousness seemed to enter an infinite world of white. A torrent of chaotic data flooded his mind, and a synthesized voice echoed:

“Host has made contact with the Light. Please achieve fusion with the Light to activate this system.”

Tetsuya’s eyes slowly opened. Around him, a tunnel of emerald light stretched into endless darkness. An intangible wind blew, making his consciousness waver, and a pain from deep within his soul struck him.

“I... I can’t die yet!”

A red glow appeared ahead, shining on Tetsuya and stabilizing his flickering consciousness. Shielding his eyes from the glare, Tetsuya stared at the light appearing in the void—a beam of orange radiance, emanating warmth and power. As the emerald tunnel shifted, his awareness drew closer to the light.

“What is that...?”

A dazzling, pure radiance burst from the orange-red core, its brilliance seeming to pierce the soul. Tetsuya barely managed to lift his hand to shield his eyes, peering through his fingers at the transformation.

As the white glow faded, the orange-red form elongated, shaping itself into a gigantic Y-shaped symbol. Soon, multiple streams of orange-red light extended outward, gradually outlining a giant’s body—over fifty meters tall. Though made entirely of orange-red light, it seemed alive.

“This is... Ultraman!”

Tetsuya gazed in awe at the giant before him. He’d seen Ultraman countless times on television, but just like the man who loved dragons in the old tale, facing the real thing and feeling the surge of power, he felt a tremor of fear—an awe of the unknown.

“Detected that the consciousness within the Light is fading. Host, do you accept fusion with the Light?”

The system voice echoed in his mind again. Tetsuya understood this was only his consciousness—he wondered where the voice came from, but this was no time for such questions. Looking up at the giant, he answered firmly, “I accept!”

In the night, helicopters skimmed low over the mountains, their rotors thundering, searchlights sweeping across the dark slopes.

“This is the Hyakuri Rescue Team—arrived at the crash site!” The helicopter pilot reported, his eyes on the illuminated terrain below. “The F-15 has crashed in the Tateyama mountains. It’s ablaze; no houses nearby.”

“Repeat: The aircraft is on fire. Pilot’s status—unknown!”

As the pilot finished, a convoy of military vehicles approached, halting a hundred meters from the wreckage.

A woman in a white lab coat was the first to step out of the lead vehicle. With a cold expression, she surveyed the burning wreck and issued orders calmly:

“Find the pilot. He should still be alive. Bring him in and seal off all information from the public.”

Had Tetsuya been conscious, he would have recognized her at once—Saro Mizuhara, Chief of the Chemistry Division at BCST.

At her command, squads of soldiers leapt from the trucks and raced toward the burning jet.

Back at Hyakuri Base, Maki sat slumped in guilt and despair. When he first saw Kurashima, the only words he could utter were, “That kid, Tetsuya... he saved me...”

Before he could finish, he covered his face in agony.

“I saw his jet catch fire and crash near Tateyama...”

Kurashima fell silent. As pilots, they both knew how dire the situation was—a burning aircraft, crashed in the mountains, meant survival was almost impossible.

Kurashima handed Maki a cup of coffee, at a loss for words. The two men sat in silence.

Meanwhile, in the Tateyama mountains, Saro Mizuhara stared at the man being loaded into a special rescue bag. His once-handsome face was blackened by fire, and he lay unconscious.

She reached into his jacket pocket with slender fingers and pulled out a familiar ID.

Japan Air Self-Defense Force, Hyakuri Base, 7th Air Wing, 204th Fighter Squadron, Captain, Tetsuya Nae.

Gazing coldly at the ID, Saro Mizuhara ordered, “Release the statement—the pilot is dead.”