Chronicles Of Two Powers

[REWRITE] Chapter 5 - Unprovoked Agression

Hello, readers of Chronicles! We are currently transitioning to the next arc, which introduces a new lore plot while continuing the story of the Chronicles of Two Powers.

In anticipation of newcomers selecting diverse chapters to delve into the narrative, we present the "Chronicles Guide Reference."

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gyOnASbgyTM-2htzbfFQPnOWK0RsdYjuRc7OYZUcSeo/edit?usp=sharing

If you're interested in discussing Chronicles of Two Powers and even Golden Gates, we have a Discord server that you can join as well.

[Discord link: https://discord.com/invite/dEeaaWRUwz]

Thank you and enjoy.

-Verysmokey

• • • • •

Beneath a celestial tapestry of twinkling stars and the delicate embrace of the early morning mist, an ocean valley slumber, draped in profound stillness. The awakening sun, denied its grand entrance from the east, leaves the dark waters cradling a fleet of warships in quiet contemplation. The tranquil expanse, veiled in ethereal mist, unveils a fleet adorned with speckles of green, yellow, and red dots, seemingly dormant in the pre-dawn hush.

Yet, amid this maritime midnight operation, the flattop emerges as a commanding presence, breaking the silence with a subtle dance of determination. The once-still tableau transforms into a dynamic canvas, the flattop's deck a stage for an imminent symphony of unfolding events. As the morning mist caresses the surface, the previously serene waters echo with the purposeful cadence of preparation, promising an intricate ballet beneath the cloak of dawn's delicate embrace.

Escort Flotilla 2, JN Amagi

Nine nautical miles from the Aetesian coastal town.

November 25, 1773, /2025/

| 4:11 AM | 0:4:11:00 | Hours.

Arrayed in a spectrum of coloured suits—brown, purple, yellow—the units moved in harmonious synchrony, resembling a well-played piano piece. Some units sprinted, others carried equipment, and a few signalled commands, all under the muted ambience of the night. Absent was the guiding brilliance of the sun, yet in its absence, they radiated purpose.

The deck, adorned with the folded Mitsubishi H-60 Blades, painted a scene of meticulous preparation on the starboard side of the Amagi. As sailors and marines observed from a distance, other escorts in the carrier group added to the spectacle, each vessel contributing to the orchestrated ballet of naval prowess.

The mission ahead was unmistakable, even from a distance. The unsuspecting adversaries were about to receive a surprise they hadn't anticipated. The timing seemed peculiar, sending aircraft this late into the night, but the objective was clear. Even the biting cold began to yield to the building anticipation, heightened by the screeching roars of the Mitsubishi F-18J engines on the forward catapult. Their hard points, armed with Type 93 Air-to-Ship missiles, hinted at the impending operation's gravity.

The pilot's gaze fixates on his right, meeting the director's stern expression. A subtle nod and a crisp salute follow. Below, the operator swiftly releases the aircraft, the first one hurtling into the unknown, its wingman trailing close behind. **SWOOSH** The colossal aircraft ascends, piercing the heavens as the moonlight wanes and the morning sun begins its ascent.

As the pilot breathes through the mask, he skillfully adjusts his course. Alongside his wingman, they veer toward the east, surrounded by the canopy's indicators and guided by an AWAC aircraft. In this atmosphere thick with tension, they navigate with the utmost care, fully conscious that blind pursuit is not a viable option. Armed with comprehensive systems and unwavering precision, they steadfastly approach their target, the tension intensifying with each passing moment.