First of all, thank you for the massive and frankly unexpected support. I never expected this fic to take off (pun intended) the way it did.

Clearing up some confusion, this is not related in any way to Emergence. If that's what you were hoping for, I apologize. But I do have big plans for that fic.

It's late and it may have some errors. I thought about doing a full perspective-flipped version of the first chapter, but ultimately decided against it.

A lot of viewpoints, a lot of characters. It's kind of a speculative fiction style, I think.

2: Down

I don't care what they said, that is not an airliner, Major Viorica Skye thought as she closed the distance with the unknown aircraft.

For one, it had been travelling at far too high an altitude. Either everyone aboard was really tough, or they had something aboard to keep everyone from dying. It was also moving too fast- she had her throttles almost completely open and was barely keeping pace.

It didn't look like an airliner, either. Most airliners were large and blocky, streamlined for aesthetics and equipped with several drive pods or nozzles. The closest thing she could think of to this "airliner" was a very large interceptor or a tiltjet transport without the tilt. It was long and sleek, with a raked tail and swept-back wings. Two disproportionately large engines were mounted on pylons forward of and below the wings.

It was also far too small to be an airliner- if they really had two hundred and fifty people aboard, they must have been packed in like sardines.

The only airliner-like thing about it was its livery. It was painted white on top and grey below, separated by a gold pinstripe. Large, bold letters proclaimed the plane as UNITED, which was probably the name of the company operating it. The tail was blue, with a white, gold, and blue globe taking up most of it.

It was something strange they'd never seen before. Could it be from another Kingdom they didn't know about? She pushed the thoughts out of her head. Escorting it safely to the ground- protecting the supposed airliner from threats and protecting them from the airliner if it turned out to be something else- was her priority.

"United one seven eight heavy, this is Azure Lead," she called, opening the throttles slightly and pulling ahead of the airliner. "We will escort you in. Can you see me?"

"Affirmative, Azure Lead." A confident male voice replied. "Confirm you are directly ahead and slightly above us."

"Azure Lead, affirmative." She checked her holographic HUD, which showed her speed at 455 knots indicated. Close to maximum for her interceptor, let alone any airliner she knew of. Although she thought she knew the answer, she asked, "Do you request that we reduce speed?"

"Negative, Azure Lead." She wondered if they were also pushing the envelope, but didn't want to ask.

After perhaps half a minute of flying, the airliner's pilot came back on the radio. "Azure Flight, recommend you increase separation. This jumbo can make one hell of a vortex."

"Azure copy, increasing separation," Skye replied before switching to a private channel. "Three, increase your separation with the airliner."

"Copy that." She briefly glanced back and saw her wingman move away from the larger plane.

She switched back to the airliner's frequency. "You should be able to see Vale now. Forty miles to the highway, skies are clear."

"Uh, Azure Lead, did you say highway or runway?"

Air traffic control had told them about it. Hadn't they? "United, you will be landing on a specially prepared highway built with emergency landings in mind."

The voice on the other end laughed darkly. "Well, that's reassuring, isn't it?"

It had turned into a hell of a day for air traffic controller Las Zolty.

The morning had been normal, if hectic. Several airships in and out to outlying areas. An airliner coming in from Atlas, another one leaving for Mistral. One military Bullhead that had taken several feathers from a Nevermore and requested to land at Vale Airport instead of returning to base.

Then he'd received a call from a communications centre saying that there was an aircraft declaring emergency- on 121 and a half megacycles. It didn't take long to find a radio and tune it to the frequency. The radio transmission was strange, using improper etiquette, but panicked. An airliner was going down.

After getting their position, he had asked for the number of people onboard- morbid standard practice. They were pretty far out, in the middle of the Grimmlands, and everyone in the room knew there wouldn't be anyone who could get to them in time. Usually, at least a few people survived even the worst crashes, but in this case the Grimm would eat them alive. Probably literally.

But it didn't crash. The pilot of the airliner kept making strange requests and statements- nearest runway, relay to Midland, engines-out landing. The type they'd given wasn't one he could recall, and as he got a technician to check the database he began to suspect they were dealing with something they hadn't dealt with before. Their radar told them little- it gave them a rough position but the airliner was too far out to get an accurate fix.

The pilot became frustrated and told him they were attempting an engine restart- long after they should have crashed. He was confused, and understood that the pilot on the other end was both as confused as he was and vectored him to the nearest aerodrome- Beacon Academy.

He called Beacon to inform their controllers. They told him they had a strange object on radar that had been gliding gently down and was now climbing fast and accelerating to speed. It continued to fly away from Beacon, turning and flying straight over Forever Fall.

They'd called Vale again at that point, confused at not being over Midland- presumably an airport, but one nobody had any record of. Beacon informed them that there was a concentration of Nevermores spotted that the airliner was headed straight toward, and he passed on the warning.

This time, the pilot listened, and the plane climbed and accelerated out of danger. At that point, they had a better radar fix- and it told them that the supposed airliner was one of the highest and fastest objects in the skies. He'd ask them to confirm, and they'd confirmed their numbers.

There was another worry that they discussed at that point. What if wasn't an airliner? What if it was an attack craft on a high-speed attack mission? It didn't make a lot of sense, but it paid to be careful, and the military had sent interceptors to escort the airliner in.

He had a live visual feed from the interceptors, and what he saw did not look like an airliner. It was much smaller, with long, sleek wings and engines podded below the wings. What the pilot had said about landing horizontally made sense- it didn't seem to have any lift systems. Other than that, it was a complete unknown.

And now he was bringing in that unknown aircraft on an emergency landing strip. Though nominally a highway, the strip had been designed to take an aircraft that could not land conventionally if necessary. It had only been tried a few times, with much lighter aircraft, and hadn't always worked. On the other hand, the pilot sounded like they always landed on runways, which meant that they'd have training, experience, and equipment for the situation. Hopefully.

He had a lot of questions on his mind, and had throughout the ordeal. What was the aircraft, what was United, where did it come from? He pushed those out of his mind. His job was to get the aircraft down safely, not to speculate about its origins. That could be handled later, by someone else.

Police officer Lloyd Gris wasn't having the best day, either. He'd spent half the morning chasing a suspected thief across the south side of the city only to find out that a huntress had already taken care of it and no she did not require any assistance. Technically, she didn't have jurisdiction, but he didn't get paid enough to argue with a pissed off huntress and her gigantic sword. He knew he'd suffer consequences either way, so he decided to go with the path less likely to result in his impalement.

Then, maybe an hour earlier, he'd been ordered south to close off the highway. He knew it could be used to land aircraft in an emergency. In fact, he remembered the last time it had happened. He was on the other side of town, arresting a homeless man for disturbing the peace. He was curious about what was happening this time, but didn't ask for details. They told him that it was a passenger-carrying airliner and that was probably all he was going to get.

His job was to drive up and down the highway and get everyone off it as quickly as possible. Needless to say, there were always drivers who did not understand, who insisted that they were almost at their destination anyway, who refused to pull over into the ditch or even use the next turnoff. Fortunately, they were few in number, but they were enough to make his already bad mood worse.

He heaved a heavy sigh as he pulled over his cruiser at the north end of the highway. He shut off the engine, taking off his harness as it coasted to a stop. After that, he double-checked his service pistol and climbed out of the vehicle to watch the rest of the emergency services arrive.

The firefighters he'd been expecting. After all, it was an aircraft in trouble, and they might have to rescue trapped passengers or put out a fire if it couldn't make the landing. The ambulances he'd been expecting, too, for obvious reasons. What he hadn't expected was the pair of military Bullheads that began dropping off fully equipped troops along the highway.

One of them he recognized as an officer by her bright red rank insignia and stripe. She greeted him with a handshake. "I'm Major Oriana Autumn, Royal Vale Army."

"Officer Lloyd Gris, VPD." He returned the handshake, noticing that her grip was firm but controlled. He asked sharply, "Why is the army here? What the hell is on that aircraft?"

If the soldier was offended by his tone, she didn't show it. "The long and short of it is that we don't know. We don't know what type of aircraft it is or where it came from."

"It's not a passenger airliner?" he asked, surprised.

"Well, it could be, but it's not a type we recognize," the Major told him. "Our interceptors got a look at it, and it doesn't look like anything we've seen before."

"Oh, that's just-"

Another soldier ran up to them, exchanging a salute with the Major. "Ma'am, they're beginning their approach."

She turned to the confused and frustrated cop. "Looks like we're about to find out."

The broad-nosed airship floated lazily next to its berth. It was loosely attached to the ground via retractable mooring arms, and its engines were spun up just enough to keep it airborne. Along with two others, it had been sitting there for hours. The airship had been chartered to take a group of new students to Beacon Academy, a prestigious hunting school. For most of its passengers, their excitement at attending a new school had turned into exasperation at waiting for clearance to leave.

"I can't believe the flight's been delayed," Ruby Rose whined to her big sister, pacing rapidly in front of the window on the starboard side of the airship. "We were supposed to cast off an hour ago!"

"Tell me about it," Yang Xiao Long replied, annoyance in her voice. "Did you find out why we're still here?"

She repeated what the crew had told everyone. "There's an airliner that's having problems. They announced that almost half an hour ago. I guess we can't leave until they've landed safely. Or, well, you know..."

"I'm sure they'll be fine." Yang shrugged before grabbing her sister's shoulder. "Well, might as well make the best of it. Come on, there's lots of other people who are gonna be Beacon students. You should go meet-"

"Hey, what's that?" a blonde boy shouted, pointing out the window.

"That's not an airliner!"

"Is that why we can't take off?"

"I've never seen one of those before!"

Ruby dashed over to have a look. A strange aircraft was heading toward the city on the port side of the airship. It was hard to see in the distance, but she could tell it was shaped more like an interceptor than an airship, although much bigger. It had long, gracefully swept wings, engines on pods below, and a brightly coloured globe on the tail.

She pressed her face to the glass as wheels began unfolding from the bottom of the aircraft. "Ooh..."

Her sister was also curious, but expressed it differently. Leaning over Ruby's shoulder, she whispered, "What is that thing?"

Fire Chief Douglas Noir waited anxiously as the strange aircraft descended toward the highway. He'd received the call only an hour prior that an airliner was coming down on the emergency landing strip. Fire engines scrambled from his station and others toward the highway outside the heart of Vale. On the way, he'd received clarification that it wasn't an airliner, exactly, and they didn't know much about it. When he arrived, the road was cleared except for the police and a few military vehicles.

The aircraft was coming in to land. It didn't take long for him to realize this wasn't another battle-damaged interceptor or a Bullhead with a busted tilting mechanism. Whatever that thing was, it was clearly equipped to land on wheels. He peered through his binoculars at the undercarriage as it extended from the bottom of the aircraft. It looked sturdy; plenty capable of handling the airliner's considerable weight.

The wings changed shape as it descended, but not in the way any normal wing would. Large panels extended forward from the leading edges, and down and back from the trailing edges. He noticed odd carrot-shaped fairing visible on the rear panels and briefly wondered what they were for.

The glide slope was smooth and steady, which told him that they had done this before many times. That gave him some confidence. Even though he knew nothing about them, he knew the passengers were on the best plane and had the best crew for this emergency. Or at least he told himself that.

"Vale, United one seven eight heavy, we are beginning our final approach," his radio- the one tuned into the aircraft's frequency- crackled. "Wish us luck."

"Copy that, United. You are clear to land. Good luck." He knew that was the air traffic control at Vale.

The aircraft descended quickly, but smoothly. There was a light breeze that day, and the aircraft was pointed slightly away from the highway's centerline to compensate. As it got closer, he realized a few things that were very odd about the aircraft. Its UNITED livery was drab, uninspired, and didn't belong to any airline he knew about. It sounded odd, more like a large airship than a tiltjet. And it was bigger than he thought it was.

Once the aircraft hit the ground, several things happened at once. Large panels extended up and down from the wings- he guessed those were speed brakes. Doors on either side of the engine nacelles opened and the engines spooled up again. Smoke began wafting from the wheels, and with a loud pop one of the tires burst.

Despite its massive amount of braking power, the aircraft was still very heavy and took a long time to stop. It overshot his group of firefighters, and they started their engines and began chasing after the aircraft as it continued to decelerate. He briefly worried that the aircraft would overshoot the end of the barricaded highway section, but it very quickly slowed down and came to a stop.

They caught up quickly and came to a stop behind the large airliner. He jumped off the engine and began surveying the scene. There was no visible fire, but smoke and steam were pouring from the wheels. The aircraft's engines were still running, and even at idle he could feel their hot exhaust.

"Get water on those wheels!" he shouted. Another engine was already on it, with a pair of firefighters connecting a hose to the engine and aiming the other end at the smouldering wheels. Seconds later, the pump in the engine started up and water was sucked from its internal tank and sprayed out the nozzle in a powerful stream.

"You think it's safe?" a police officer asked him, one hand on his gun.

He answered honestly. "You tell me. I've never seen anything like that before. I don't recognize it."

"Maybe it's Atlas or one of the other kingdoms?" the officer suggested.

"Could be. We can make sure once the passengers are safe."

"If they're passengers," a voice interjected. They turned to see a woman in the battle uniform of the Royal Vale Army, carrying a rifle slung across her chest. "If this is not an attack."

"Well, we'll know soon enough, won't we?"

"Holy shit," First Officer Michael Langdon said, leaning back in his seat. "We did it, Bob. We fucking did it."

"Yeah," Captain Robert Banes replied, fatigue now taking hold after the harrowing landing. "We did. Now let's get this aircraft secure and figure out what the hell happened."

"After-landing checklist?" Mike's tone was businesslike, though he couldn't keep the fatigue out of his voice.

"Go ahead."

"Transponder set standby. Landing lights off. Strobe lights off. Taxi lights-"

The Captain shook his head. "We won't need them."

"Right, taxi lights off. Flaps up. Spoilers retracted. APU... is still running. Elevator trim zero." He flipped the page. "Parking brake set."

"Already set," the Captain told him.

"Engines shutdown, flow fuel, shit, sorry, fuel flow off." As the captain hit the switches, the engines spun down and went quiet.

"Seat belt sign?"

Bob shook his head. "Not yet. I want to know if they... is that water?"

He gestured outside, where a fire engine was pouring liquid on the smoking remains of their main gear wheels. His copilot looked and managed, "Well, it sure as hell isn't foam. Good thing it's just the brakes."

"Let's just hope we haven't sprung a leak." Aircraft fuel fires were typically fought with foam. Water would spread the burning fuel instead of extinguishing it, often making the situation worse. Foam, on the other hand, covered the petroleum fuel and smothered it.

The Captain pushed it out of his mind, unsettling as it was, and called Vale again. "Vale, United one-seven-eight heavy on the ground. We have shut down our engines and wish to begin disembarking immediately. Do you have airstairs, or are we going to have to use the evacuation slides?"

The response was blunt. "Best we can do is ladders."

"Roger that, Vale, we will disembark with the escape slides." Captain Banes would be lying if he was satisfied with the situation. The escape slides were designed to evacuate an aircraft quickly, and weren't entirely safe. Even a perfect evacuation would likely leave some of his passengers with minor injuries. It was still, however, safer than trying to jury-rig ladders.

He paused for a moment, then switched the intercom to address the cabin.

"This is your captain speaking. It seems there are no airstairs available, so we will be disembarking using the emergency slides. The aircraft is not in any danger, so please move toward the exits in an orderly manner and wait for instructions from the cabin crew. Thank you."

By the time the captain made his second announcement, the cabin had calmed down enough to hear what he was saying.

"Leave your belongings where they are," a different voice- one of the flight attendants- announced. "Please remove your shoes and place them on your seat."

Before the cabin crew could even open the hatches, three passengers immediately rushed for the doors. Two of them backed off after polite but stern warnings, but the last had to be physically restrained.

After taking off his shoes, Orville thought about getting out of his seat and opening the door in front of him. However, there seemed to be no immediate emergency and he had not been given specific instructions, so he stayed put. Beside him, Janet fidgeted in her seat, eager to get off.

"We'll be off soon," he assured her. In front of them, some of the passengers were standing up and moving to leave. One of them started to push through the others, but he couldn't see how far she got.

"Will we?" she asked doubtfully, nervously.

He voiced his own thoughts. "I certainly hope so."

Seconds later, a flight attendant arrived and asked him to open the exit door. He obliged, getting up and turning the large silver lever that opened the door. The door swung open and the slide quickly inflated, jumping away from the aircraft. Within seconds, it was ready for use.

Orville was among the first to leave the plane, with Janet right behind him. There were a dozen or two passengers already on the ground. A lone flight attendant directed them away from the aircraft and its still-hot engines, toward the waiting emergency services. She was confused and perturbed by the fact that they were- for the most part- simply standing there, looking confused.

She was equally confused by the men and women carrying rifles and wearing body armour. Were they police or military? Where had they landed? She pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Getting the passengers to safety was their priority, and the waiting firefighters, police, and ambulances were safer than the possibly-damaged plane.

"Whee!" John cried as he jumped onto the bright orange slide. He waved his arms as he slid down, jumping to his feet after landing. His sister was much more calm, sliding down carefully.

By the time they had left the plane, the number of passengers on the ground had increased to just over a hundred. A police officer, one of the soldiers, and a few firefighters had come forward and were helping the passengers off the slides and away from the aircraft. Most of the passengers were unharmed, but confused. Some had minor cuts and bruises. Two elderly people had broken bones when they landed. A few other passengers had fainted. One man left the plane calmly, walked seven feet, then violently threw up on the pavement.

The pilots were the last to leave the aircraft, only disembarking when they had shut down the jet's systems and made sure everyone else had made it off. Once they had completed their final check, they grabbed a few key documents and descended down the forward escape slides.

They were more observant than most of the passengers, and realized right away that something was very off. The emergency vehicles looked almost like they had been built in the first half of the last century. They were on a highway on the edge of a city, near some kind of aerodrome. They could see a control tower and some hangars, but no runways. The odd interceptors zipped by overhead. And all the first responders acted like they'd never seen a plane evacuated before.

The tension was slowly draining away, with utter confusion taking its place.

Captain Banes voiced the thoughts of many. "Where the hell did we land?"

The emergency services had been the first to arrive. The reporters were the second. A media circus was waiting just outside the police cordon, cameras rolling, flashes going off, and talking heads eagerly rattling off statements into microphones.

"As you can see, the mysterious aircraft has now landed," Lisa Lavender announced to the camera drone floating in front of her. "Authorities aren't letting us get closer because of the possible danger of the unknown aircraft but we can clearly see passengers disembarking using what seem to be inflatable slides.

"An unidentified source has informed us that the aircraft has the radio callsign United One Seven Eight Heavy, with the type stated as a Boeing Seven-Seven-Seven Dash Two Hundred, that it did get lost, it is capable of extreme speed and altitude and that it typically lands horizontally. This has not been confirmed by any official sources."

"What is United one seven eight heavy? Could it be from another Kingdom that hasn't been discovered until now? There seems to be a general feeling of confusion even among officials but hopefully we will know more soon. This is Lisa Lavender, at the scene of the landing for VNN News."