Kaguya reached Philippine airspace long before dawn.
The black tiltrotor aircraft cut through the night above the West Philippine Sea, its engines reduced to a low controlled hum while its composite frame absorbed much of the radar energy that touched it. Beneath the aircraft, the ocean stretched endlessly beneath scattered clouds, dark and silent except for faint silver streaks where moonlight reflected from the waves.
Kaguya sat quietly inside the rear compartment, one leg crossed over the other as she stared out through the side window.
She wasn't flying.
She never had.
In front of her, occupying the pilot's seat, sat something that had once been human.
At first glance, Captain Hiroshi Takeda looked almost normal.
Almost.
