For once, you were thankful your old plane got wrecked. When Joli spun the prop of Edgar's plane, still in her mask, gloves, and goggles, it ignited just about instantly and started pouring out green exhaust. Your old rotary would be pouring it in your face. Edgar's engine was a 210 horse-power Brant Patriot, a powerful, loud liquid cooled engine. Being liquid cooled, it was best to let it warm up before takeoff. It usually took a few minutes, your margin was to let it go for about five, especially now that it was winter. The oil and water were at its ideal temp in about two, and climbed to significantly over ideal when you took off shortly after and circled town a few times to wait for Riya. You cranked the lever on the radiator all the way, opening the slates wide and letting the airflow hopefully keep the water inside from bursting a pipe. The engine was still a little hot for your liking, but that was to be expected with the fuel you were using.
Once again, back to the mountains. Edgar stayed below three kilometers until the rising peaks forced him to climb higher. You were thankful for stitching your old dress into your new jacket, as even with the magic heating your body you still had your hands in your pants against your thighs for warmth when it wasn't your turn to steer. You had the map on the floor of your cockpit, assisting with directions. Though you spent most of your time above four kilometers, you stuck mainly within visual range of the airship trade valleys as they had clear paths you memorized even before taking off. Unless there were specific memorable landmarks to go off of, environments tended to all look exactly the same. There weren't any big signs on a mountain to point out which they were, and maps were refined, but not completely accurate the majority of the time. You reached the peaks you were mostly confident were the location you were searching for, and began patrolling the area, using Edgar's new binoculars to scan the grey and white landscape below for angular differences to suggest a structure. Edgar had to pop one of the breathing masks a short time after ascending to your cruising altitude. It seemed like he was more affected by the thinning air than you, though it was still worrying with how much breath you had to suck in to feel normal. You held off on using your air can, you wanted to land before that.
When turning your head a certain way toward a random mountain, your binoculars were meant by pure matted green. You pulled away the binoculars and looked at where you were peering now with your unassisted eyes. The face of one of the mountains was coated in pure green, like dense spring grass. None of these mountains contained much soil at all though, and the green was stuck to the mountain near-vertically. Back home you were told that men waged war not only against themselves, but the Wild too, which you'd seen plenty evidence of. However, days after the horizon burned red from the flame of napalm and mass graves, the mountains in view of the village would be splotched with bright green life for a day. It was always interpreted as the Goddesses reminding the coven that life will always be back, no matter how much burns. It felt incredible to finally see a green mountain for yourself.
You have discovered beauty, -1 Stress.
A while after passing that good omen, you found the base you were looking for. A small thing, jutting from the side of a mountain, clearly only accessible by air. It was flanked by runways with one big one down by it's front. The base itself was just two connected concrete structures: the bigger one more than fifty meters wide with a huge set of metal shutter doors, probably a warehouse, which meant the smaller was likely the operations center. On the front runway, there was the crumpled carcass of a small airship. The metal supports were torn and jutting towards the sky like a rib cage exposed to the elements, and the only one engine was attached to the canvas fuselage. The binoculars were very helpful for figuring out what you were getting into from the air. Edgar brought the plane down onto a patch of grass on the side of the building, nearest to a door. You always thought seaplanes couldn't actually touch down anywhere but water, but that wasn't true. Soft grass was just fine, if a bit jolting and bumpy.
He popped his second oxygen mask, as he was clearly struggling to function otherwise without it. You learned Riya didn't actually bring one, as she apparently spent most of her life this high, so the altitude didn't affect her much. The freezing weather did though, as she was shivering and chattering like crazy as you all regrouped. You used some fire magic to comfort her with a hug, which seemed to help. Edgar detached the drop tanks from the bottom of his plane and stacked them on a wheeled pallet leaning against the wall of the building, which squealed horribly with every movement, but at least rolled. Edgar took a beeline through the facility for the hangar with the fuel to find the plane in question, while you and Riya went to investigate the downed airship.
It seemed like the airship burnt down, to some degree. Some of the canvas was burnt, but the nose to middle seemed relatively intact. The tail was seared and black, and where the engines were mounted was completely bare of canvas. That's where the fuel tank was too, torn into scrap against the asphalt runway. Your guess as to what happened was that the fuel tank sparked and ignited during the crash, and started a burnout that was slowed by the thin air, cold, and torn gas bags. Stepping through the airship's wreckage felt more intimate than you thought it should. The new voice in your head granted some reassurance though, assuring you it was safe, and it was not in any way immoral. You were simply using what others could not. It felt like you were picking through a body on your way to the cargo hold, which was charred, but mostly untouched by the flame. You pushed the shutter door open, finding a single large crate inside rolled against the wall from the crash, already on wheels. After cracking the top off the crate, you found a huge amount of wood chips along with a large radial engine, ten cylinders in two layers around the crankshaft. The chrome was still shiny like new. You burnt a path out of the wreckage using your finger like a welding torch while Riya pushed the crate out and towards the hangar. Edgar stepped out of the hangar through a regular door next to the massive shudder door wall, holding his flight goggles in his hands. He looked like he's just seen a shade.
"We've got the engine. What's up?" You asked, as he just kind of gestured towards the hangar. He looked speechless.
"I need you to tell me if you see what I see so I know I'm not crazy." He said, turning around and walking back towards the hangar. You helped Riya push the crate back through the opened doors, and into the hangar. The light filtering through the dirty windows of the shutter door allowed just enough light to know what you were looking at.
It was less like a plane, and more like a sleeping beast. It was a biplane with a meter wingspan, taller than a story, with four engines, each pair in a push-pull arrangement. It had a gunner at the nose, the middle of the tail, and the belly, and you had to get inside of it through a door behind the wings. It was the biggest, most advanced plane you'd ever seen. And it scared you in a way you'd never felt before. Because you knew, somehow, exactly what this was. The Von Morgan Pferd, a superheavy bomber created by the Fokker Kingdoms just before the war, and paraded through your city. You remembered the day clearly. It was a sunny, warm day, and you watched the plane be towed past you by two automobiles sitting on your father's shoulders. You didn't question where the memory was from anymore. It scared you as a child. You were told the prototype crashed on its first mission. You believed it to be a blessing. Something that terrible doesn't have a place in this world. a voice you'd only heard in dreams spoke.
"They built another?" Karl said, a meter or two to your right. You snapped your head around and gasped, seeing a figure in the dark, and ignited your hand on fire to get a better view. When the light actually illuminated the room, the figure was gone.
"Hilda?" Riya asked. There was fear in her voice.
"I don't know." You responded, staring into the darkness. You pointed at the plane. "That thing can carry two tons of ordinance. They made it to level cities. I thought they only made one." You said, speaking quietly, like you were afraid of waking the machine.
"Why does the professor want this?" Riya asked in disbelief.
"I didn't fuel it. I just… spent like two minutes staring at it. What do we do?" Edgar asked, as your sensitive ears picked up a distant sound. Plane engines. And not just one.
The Horror
[ ] Get rid of this abomination (Say how)
[ ] Take it back to town (Stuff the engine in the trunk)
[ ] Leave it
Additionally…
[ ] How do you react to the plane and people noises you hear and heard?