It's an Abyss, not Bottomless (kancolle SI)
- Thread starter DisgruntledJaege
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Chapter 8: It's a Bit of a Walk
There was no light pollution in the ocean. Not a single street light, house, or city for hundreds of kilometers. Nothing to hide the sky as day gradually turned into night, and the majesty of the heavens was revealed.
The sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky red and yellow like dancing flames, burning down to coals. The silver moon rose in its place as the light faded, the sky slowly turning black. Just like that, the veil of the heavens was pulled back and the stars appeared in all their glory. Countless bright lights, interrupted only by the occasional passing satellite. Constellations untold, twinkling high above.
As if the night sky itself was welcoming him home.
For what felt like an eternity, William stopped to bask in the radiance. Forget technology, this... this was proof enough that he was home. And the noise... there was no more eternal silence; just the sound of gentle waves lapping at his feet, and the wind against his exposed skin.
God, how he missed it.
With tears stinging his eyes, he checked his compass and resumed his journey. By his rough count, he had roughly a hundred more kilometers to go. But with a view like this, he'd happily walk a hundred more. He had conquered the distance with ease, never tiring despite the contraption strapped to his back. The thing certainly had mass; he could feel it swaying as he walked. But for weight? It felt like a part of his own body; whatever weight it had was barely noticeable.
There were so many questions, and he would probably never get answers. Or, at the very least, he wouldn't question how he was standing on water until after he had reached dry land. Then he could hopefully pass on the mystery to people a lot smarter than he was.
But... was that the right thing to do?
Despite the cliche, Goldblum summed it up perfectly. Science was always asking if you could, never if you should. The Abyss was not something to be trifled with. Impossible powers of restoration and a causal disregard for the laws of physics and buoyancy. And then... there was the Song. He shivered. His eyes were living proof of the power it wielded, a power he was bringing right to Earth's doorstep.
The more he thought about it, the less certain he became. The Abyss had been consistent, but still nothing about it made sense. The maelstrom, the compass leading him to it, the Song itself... had it all been a mistake? Had he just accidentally stumbled into a realm humans weren't meant to see, or was there something more sinister at play?
As his mind raced, his pace slowed until he was standing still on the gently rolling waves.
Why was he here? He was overjoyed to be out, but why had the Abyss sent him back? It had tried and failed to corrupt him... but then just spat him out. Why? Was it all a trap? Was he unknowingly dooming the world with each step that brought him closer to shore?
Slowly, his hand trailed down to his stomach, feeling his muscles through the cloth. On the surface, he felt fine. Better than fine, even. Powerful. No aches, no pain; it was like all the suffering at the hands of the Song had never happened. The relief was bliss.
Over time, however, that bliss had been replaced by an uncomfortable void. As strange as it sounded, he... he couldn't feel his organs anymore. Call him crazy, no one was supposed to feel their own liver, but that was the only way he could describe it. An emptiness filled his chest, even spreading out to where his bones were supposed to be. He felt... hollow.
The worst part was when he concentrated on the emptiness; he could get some sensation back, but what he got was strange and alien. Flares of heat and tremors where they shouldn't be. And when he really focused on it... there was a strange, tingling sensation. Like thousands of tiny feet.. ants crawling around inside him in neat, orderly paths.
He wrenched his mind away, breathing heavily as the phantom sensations subsided. But it was still there... it was always there; the hollowness lingering just beneath his skin. The Abyss had done more than spit him out and strap a battleship to his back; something had changed inside him.
For a moment, the raw horror rooted him in place.
Had he really escaped... or had he been set loose?
Was it best to keep going? For all he knew, he was bringing the apocalypse back with him; dooming everyone and everything that had kept him going for so long.
The decision tore at him: Churned his stomach until he felt ready to throw up. There was no real right answer. There would be consequences down the line, regardless of what he chose. Consequences he could only guess at, simply because he didn't know enough!
If the worst did come to pass, he would look back at this moment and hate himself for being so selfish. But... if he decided to take the bullet for everyone... what if he was wrong?
"...God, why me?..."
...home...
Slowly, as the stars shone down from above, he forced his feet to move again. One foot in front of the other, picking up speed, forcing his attention into each movement. A distraction. It was an awful decision, but at the same time, indecision wouldn't solve anything either.
And maybe he was just too damn selfish. He hadn't come this far, endured for this long just to give up on speculation alone.
Plus... he was back on Earth. Here, at least, there was hope. A chance... He fervently prayed he wasn't making the worst mistake of his life.
Until then, there were always the stars. The world, at least, remained unchanged. For now, there was just the ocean ahead. And gradually, even his fear and self-loathing were eased away under the relaxing music of the waves. The endless 'splish splash' of his boots against an impossible surface.
Almost by accident, they fell into a familiar melody. A song he hadn't thought of in months, years maybe. Encouraged by the gentle waves around him, he mouthed the lyrics along with the beat. But when he got to the chorus, he couldn't help but smirk.
It was just so fitting.
"...but I would walk five hundred miles... a~and I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door." His voice grew stronger with each line, his speed increasing to keep pace with the tune in his head.
He hadn't been able to do this in so long; imagining music. The Abyss had stifled everything both inside and out. But now, for just a moment, he could dare to hope that everything would turn out fine.
"And when I come home, yes, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you... I'm gonna be the man who's coming ho~ome to you."
With his gaze fixed straight ahead and song on his lips, he never saw the moon reflecting off a pair of eyes far off in the distance.
A pale face poked out of the water, long black hair obscuring her features, except for her blue eyes and a twisted breathing apparatus covering her mouth and nose.
Yes. The battleship was still there.
A lone battleship. Unescorted: all that tonnage, such a tantalizing target. Not to mention the prestige that would come from sinking the Yamato herself. She licked her lips... but, her orders superseded her blood lust.
Weeks worth of careful planning had gone into her position, if she exposed her presence now... well, failing her Hime would be the least of her worries. This deep in human territory, she wasn't the only predator listening. Although, the idiot who claimed the Yamato was still docked at Truk Island would need a good kick to the aft for her screw-up! She bet the humans didn't have these kinds of intel fuck ups.
Although she couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the lone battleship. There was no visible damage and barely any sound profile at all. Her screws didn't seem to be turning; there wasn't even any smoke coming out of her funnel. Yet the battleship crawled along at a snail's pace, barely breaking four knots.
Had she broken down? Ugh, wouldn't that be her luck. The pride of the Japanese fleet crippled right in her cross-hairs, and she couldn't put a single torpedo up that fine aft. If only she was a little bit closer so she could appreciate that fine aft too. At least a little show would make the disappointment easier to bear.
The Ka-class submarine sunk lower in the water as she sulked. Without a doubt, this was the most thankless assignment ever. The opportunity of a lifetime was slipping right through her fingers!
Such was her life as a glorified sonar buoy. Pouting, she sank lower into the water, turning her attention back to the sounds bouncing around the ocean. It would appear that the master plan, quote-unquote, was working. Patrols both surface and submarine were occupied. And she was still alive, that was always a plus.
Hours passed, and the battleship eventually crawled away. Night slowly turned into morning, the sun rising high over the bored-out-of-her-mind sub. Maybe the Pacific Installations had done their job a little too well, a little noise would give her something to focus on, at least.
It was about mid-morning when the drone of aircraft heralded the arrival of a solitary Abyssal torpedo bomber. Flying low above the water, it cut a long, arching path across the sky. The Ka-class wasn't an aviation specialist by any means, but flying that low couldn't have been safe. She could have slapped it right out of the sky if it didn't fall into the ocean on its own. The engine spluttered and coughed, and the exhaust certainly didn't look healthy.
And the torpedo it carried... the Ka had never seen anything like it. Less a torpedo, it more resembled an external fuel tank with a series of nozzles running down the bottom. A fine mist was spraying out, leaving a sparkling trail behind the bomber like particles of glass. Rather than dissipate naturally, the contrail thickened in the open air, drifting down to float above the surface of the ocean, creating a wall of gas between the ocean and the mainland miles away.
The Ka caught a whiff of the stuff and gagged. Sinking deeper, she switched to her internal air tanks as the wall of gas thickened. She felt sick; the scent enough to churn her holds. Her crew was worse off; the ones closest to her hatches were carried off to see a doctor, their lungs burning. What in the Deep was that stuff?
Its job complete, the bomber retreated to the northeast where the masts of an Abyssal fleet were cresting the horizon. They were only slightly faster than the earlier battleship, creeping across the water. The Ka was forced to admit that the tactic did have some merit. Their sonar signatures were... less. It wasn't like a surface vessel could hide itself completely, not to her, but they were quieter than usual. And the smoke from their funnels was almost none existent.
They weren't submarines, but they were doing their damn best to be as invisible as possible.
As the fleet approached, the bombers made more fly-bys, creeping the wall of gas closer to the mainland with each pass. Before long, the lead Destroyers were right on top of her, the animalistic vessels passing as silently as they could. Next was a screen of Cruisers with...
The Ka-class flinched.
Each of the Cruisers bore the Mountain on their foreheads; the brown and red mark standing out in sharp relief against their pale skin.
What?
Her Hime never said anything about working with those lunatics!
But it was too late to question her orders now as the flagship drifted to a stop beside her, brushing a short lock of hair out of her eye as she regarded the sub coldly.
The Fast Attack Battleship was something to behold. Cold, red eyes stared out through a pair of glasses as if calculating the best way to snatch the sub out of the water like a fish. Then, she looked west, toward the mainland, and smiled.
"By my calculations, your role in this is over," the Hime purred, lazily waving a hand in dismissal. "You have performed your role perfectly. Run along now."
The Ka rose high enough above the surface to hastily bow, before slinking away from the slobbering monstrosity that was the Hime's rigging.
The fleet turned hard towards the mainland, ignoring the Ka entirely. A vanguard of destroyers covered a handful of light cruisers and their heavier sisters; all of them branded with that same damn mark. Cowards the lot of them. At the heart of the formation were three Wo-Class Carriers. Two of them were marked, but the third...
The submarine glared at the carrier's unmarked forehead. Coward, the Deep damned coward! What was she doing here with them?
If the Wo-class could feel her hatred, she ignored it, steaming past while keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon. But after the carriers came a whale-like monstrosity; its pale arms straining against the chains that held down thousands of tons of cargo to its back. Its teeth grinding against the bit in its mouth.
The Ka's eyes widened. A Co-class transport... they were rare and highly coveted by their Himes, to such a point that even the sub had never seen one in person. A single one could carry as much as an entire convoy. What they lacked in firepower they more than made up for in armor and sheer ferocity. She had heard the stories; more than one human steel hull had been rammed and sunk by an enraged Co. Although, they were large, obvious targets; slow to manoeuver and even slower to get up to speed, and, in the Ka's mind, very impractical.
Very easy targets if you knew what you were doing.
To see one was rare. but this fleet had three of them. Enough supplies to summon and sustain an entire battle line... or something much larger.
As they steamed away, the carrier's work grew more urgent. More bombers were launched with the strange sprayers, their long contrails forming a box around the fleet that was constantly being replaced as it faded or the fleet approached the edge, moving ever closer to Japan.
As the fleet departed, the Ka-class went to submerge, then froze with dread. She had forgotten to mention the battleship, shit. For a moment, she was paralyzed with fright, then she slowly sank out of sight before swimming away as casually as possible.
She wasn't about to go back and admit any mistake to a Hime. Besides, what could a single battleship, even if it was the Yamato, do against an entire fleet?
"Desu desu, desu... DESU!!"
Oaths most foul, oaths that hadn't been heard in a hundred years, oaths that would drive a noble samurai to commit seppuku in horror from being within earshot, flowed freely from the Captain's mouth. Oh, when she got a hold of that truly despicable wretch, they would beg for the sweet release of death. They would beg for mercy!
But both the Captain and Musashi, ugly she might be, would look down on her suffering and say... no.
No, there would be no mercy for this vandal! This pineapple-flinging monster!
And the Captain would enjoy every. Single. Second of it.
O~oh yes, she would.
Until then... ugh.
Disgusted, the Captain shoved another handful of litter into the fabric garbage bag. The slime and juices of old pineapple oozed onto her stubby limbs, driving her fury to new heights. Two identical bags, stuffed to the brim with refuse, sat by the hatch, their bottoms wet and oozing out onto the floor.
Three bags! Three bags worth of tin! And she had barely made a dent in the mess! Her jaw creaked as she did her very best to grind her teeth down to dust.
Yes... this monster would beg for death before the end. But death would not come easy; not until the entire crew had gotten a piece of this bastard!
Security had turned up nothing. Although the search was still on, such a toll had been dealt to Musashi that all operations had been suspended until the mess was resolved. Much to the chagrin of the entire crew, waiting for the perpetrator to right her wrongs would mean leaving Musashi inoperable and defenseless! Now they had to clean the ship themselves, robbing the monster of the just punishment for her crimes!
And maybe, just maybe, she'd have a chance to explain how exactly a tin had made it into the damned FIRE DIRECTOR?!?!
The Captain hurled the bag against the wall with an enraged screech. It flopped to the ground with the others as she fumed.
"Desu..."
Yes, death was too good for the stowaway.
Just punishment or not, the ship had to be cleansed and brought back to operational status before anything else.
...of course, the absolutely unfair part - and in her most unbiased opinion - was that her quarters had suffered the worst!! Damn that stowaway to hell!! But, let it never be said she wasn't a fairy of integrity. They were her quarters, dammit! She would not pull valuable fairy-power away for her own comfort. No sir!
But she would beat the ever-loving tar out of that desuing stowaway, before sending her on her way down the well-deserved ride to hell!
Grabbing another bag, she bravely dove back into the mess with a vengeance! However, when she reached into the pile of tin, her stub found something... weird. More than a little confused at the texture, the little fairy pulled the object free.
It was a bag. The strangest bag that had ever existed. The entire thing appeared to have been made out of thousands of green, black, and brown squares that were stitched together so perfectly that there was no seam. It couldn't have been dyed; the colors were intermingled in such a way as to make that impossible. And the material itself felt weird.
Frowning, the Captain tested the stuff.
Too heavy to be silk... too tough to be cloth... too stiff to be rubber... and smelt nothing like leather.
She nibbled a corner and retched. Didn't taste like fabric either. Material aside, she didn't recognize the design either. It certainly wasn't Japanese, and by that logic, it couldn't have been summoned along with Musashi! Slowly, a devious grin spread across the Captain's plump features as she realized exactly what she was holding.
Before she could put that knowledge to good use, there was a knock at her door. That appeared to be all the courtesy the Chief Engineer was willing to give as she shouldered the door open, followed by a flustered Ensign apologizing profusely for failing to stop-
Both fairies stopped dead as they took in the state of the quarters. The Ensign was horrified. The Chief burst into laughter. She had thought engineering had gotten the worst of it!
"Desu!" The Captain spat, throwing a tin that bounced squarely off the Chief's thick skull. Get to the point!
The Chief sobered up quickly, only to report that they had a big problem all around the ship.
And it wasn't the stowaway's mess, either. Here the Chief hesitated. There was... a lack of communication with the ship.
"Desu?" the Captain retorted. What did that even mean, a 'lack of communication?'
Exactly that, the Chief shot back. Everything was working, but Musashi wasn't responding to anything the crew was doing. They were getting the worst of it down in engineering. No matter what they did, the drive shafts refused to spin. Hell, nothing connected to the outside world seemed to work. Huffing, the Chief crossed her arms. Either something was horrendously jammed – a possibility, considering the state the vessel was summoned in – or Musashi just didn't want to move... or even knew that she could. The Chief was leaning towards the latter option.
Even the Captain was confused at her assessment.
"Desu?" the Chief asked. Couldn't they feel it? Ships had a presence about them, even while they were steel hulls. You could feel where their attention was and sort of vice versa. The fairies were part of Musashi's crew, after all; they should have known how their ship was feeling. But the Chief was feeling nothing. The connection to the ship was numb.
Slowly, the Captain understood. With the horrific truth of Musashi's ugliness, the mess, and the stowaway, her emotions had been running too high to notice the lack of a connection that should have been there.
She couldn't feel her vessel. And evidently, none of the other fairies could either.
"Desu desu!" It's the damn stowaway's fault, she cried!
"Desu," the Chief shot back dryly. She didn't see how a mere stowaway could affect the spirit of a battleship. More than likely Musashi was still adjusting to being a living paradox and was favoring her human side more... though even that didn't fully explain things.
It was the now frazzled Ensign who piped up and timidly asked how exactly the Chief knew these things.
The senior fairy just shrugged. She was the chief engineer, generally in charge of maintaining the vessel; she was supposed to know these things.
After taking a moment to process that, the Ensign pointed out that her position alone didn't exactly qualify her in such matters. That earned the fledgling officer a flat look and the advice to drop the subject before she went too deep. The extensional crisis wasn't worth it.
But it was the stowaway, the Captain insisted! The pieces were starting to fit together! That damned pineapple totting vandal had done more to Musashi than they realized! Now turning their once beautiful ship ugly was the very least of her crimes!
"Desu?"
The Captain flinched, then sagged in defeat. She'd said the ugly part out loud, hadn't she?
"Desu??" The Chief repeated, incredulous.
Running a hand down her plump cheeks in exasperation, the Captain turned, prepared to swear her crew to secrecy, only to find her quarters lacking one Chief Engineer. The distant sound of boots clambering up a distant ladder drifted through the open door. The poor Ensign, on the other stub, was frozen in horror.
"D... Desu?" she echoed, meekly.
The Captain fixed her with a look that could peel paint from the walls, commanding her to not breathe a word of this to anyone else. Morale was low enough already; to learn that the pride of Japan was-
The sound of boots coming back down a ladder interrupted her, and within seconds the Chief wandered back into the room. Her face was slack, with a glazed look that only frosted confectioneries could match. The Captain took a breath. So... the Chief had seen the awful truth.
Slowly, the engineer nodded. "Desu..."
And there was only one thing for it, the Captain whispered, again repeating her decree of secrecy. The morale of the entire ship depended on it.
That shook the Chief back to alertness. Now she just looked unimpressed.
"Desu." First of all, the Captain was an idiot.
The fairy in question spluttered indignantly, but the Chief didn't let up. Musashi was not 'ugly' as the Captain had claimed. 'She' was actually a 'he'... And with that in mind, the change of equipment down in engineering suddenly made sense.
No, it didn't! The Captain cried. Nothing about this made sense! It was all the stowaway's fault, she knew it!
"Desu," the Chief grunted. The Captain was taking this a little too personally.
Said fairy threw out her arms, gesturing wildly to the mess her quarters had become. Could you blame her? But now, they had the advantage! For though the stowaway had defiled this most sacred of sanctuaries, she had made one fatal mistake!
Behold!!
The Captain grabbed the mysterious bag, holding it above her head.
The stowaway's stuff!
The Ensign 'oohed.' Even the sourpuss Chief was intrigued by the strange material. Taking the mysterious bag from the Captain, she turned it over, examining a number of strange black pieces that connected various straps. She too nibbled a corner, smacked her lips a few times, then her face screwed up in disgust.
It tasted like petroleum! What kind of idiot would make a bag out of flammable fuel? Why waste the oil, anyway?
"Desu," the Captain said, resolutely. Surely, the stowaway's depravity was matched only by her sheer stupidity for such a blunder!
The Chief grumbled something under her breath, tugging at various pieces of the bag. A flap on the top was held down by two of those black pieces, and underneath it appeared to be the main compartment of the bag. Frustratingly, there were no buttons or drawstrings to release it. Yowling, The Chief pulled on the top flap with all her fairy strength. The black pieces cracked and the flap flew open. The bag was promptly upended and its contents dumped over the floor.
What was inside only deepened the mystery. A number of smaller bags, varying in size and all made out of the same weird material, just in different colors. But the strangest object by far was a small, green box, the edges of which were blunted with rubber.
"Desu?" the Chief piped up. She had opened one of the smaller bags and pulled out a cylinder of black plastic. The fascinating bit was when you turned certain sections, the cylinder would lengthen or contract. Obviously, it was some sort of telescope. So not only were they dealing with a pineapple flinging, vandalizing, beauty-destroying stowaway, but a spy as well!
"Desu," the Chief piped up again. A very inept one too, by the looks of it. She was flipping the telescope around, peering through one end then the other, polishing the glass with a stub, then trying again. You couldn't see anything through this.
Poor quality most likely; much like America's mass-produced battleships!
Which would mean this – the Captain picked up the strange box - was some sort of secure storage device! It was hollow, and when she shook it, she could clearly hear paper shuffling inside. The devious grin returned; this was even better than she hoped.
"Desu!" she hosted the box high, heroically claiming that they now had the perfect bait! If the stowaway could not be found, then they would lure her out! Now all they needed was a trap.
Almost instantly the excited Ensign's hand shot into the air. "Desu!"
They could leave all this stuff in the brig, tie a string to the door, and wait out of sight. When the stowaway tried to retrieve her equipment, they would slam the door shut, locking her inside!
The Chief did not look impressed. "Des-"
"DESU!!" Genius! The Captain crowed. Taking the various bags, she pushed them into the Ensign's arms. This was now her most noble of tasks. Trap this monster! Use whatever resources where needed to bring this interloper to justice! Thus decreed the Captain!
The Ensign accepted this mission as if it was handed down from the Emperor himself. She would not rest until justice was had, and Musashi avenged!
The Chief sighed as the Ensign hurried off. That was the dumbest idea she'd ever heard. Turning to the beaming Captain, she saluted. She had to get back to work... the fire director still needed to be taken apart. And yes, she would keep Musashi's new equipment a secret. However, they would need to tell the crew eventually. Fairies were starting to grow uneasy about the lack of their ship's presence.
"Desu," the Captain assured her. Once they had the stowaway in captivity everything would be revealed, and sweet justice dealt. Then Musashi could be returned to her beautiful self!
The Chief shrugged. The ship's human form didn't look that bad actually.
Sh – He's hideous! The Captain protested.
Shrugging again, the Chief turned and left.
Blowing a silent raspberry at her retreating back, the Captain returned to cleaning. The Chief probably had a thing for beards, that was the only explanation for her being so dense; shrugging off Musashi's appearance like it was nothing! That was not the face of the battleship launched from Nagasaki all those years ago.
She... she didn't know how, but she knew it wasn't right! Musashi was never like that... right?
...Right?
Unconsciously, she reached for her connection to the ship, only to come up blank. And to be honest, she was terrified at what she'd feel on the other side. If Musashi couldn't even understand Japanese, and that strange map and... weird coordinate-finding machine... what if the ship's appearance wasn't the only thing that had changed?
She shivered. That damn stowaway had better have answers. What had she done to their ship?!
As the Captain reached for another can, her boot knocked something across the floor; one of the small bags. It must have fallen out of the larger one and the Ensign missed it.
But... this could actually work to their advantage. In the unlikely chance the Ensign's plan should fail, there was still one piece of equipment the stowaway would be missing! And she would have to go through the Captain to get it!
Marveling at her own prudence, she picked the bag up. Only, it wasn't so much a bag. In fact, it resembled an American wallet but made out of that same strange material. Also, there didn't appear to be a way to open it. The two halves of the wallet were stuck together with a tougher, black strip that felt like the spines of a pineapple.
But before she could investigate further, the door to her quarters was again thrown open. Once the flustered radio officer had finished gawking at the state of her room, she delivered more bad news.
They were picking up radio transmissions from the mainland, but Musashi wasn't responding! Worse, their own radios were unable to transmit! And... well, they couldn't feel Musashi at all! It was weird! Was everything alright with their ship?!
Alarmed, the Captain followed the technician back to the radio room, unconsciously shoving the strange wallet into a pocket as she did so.
On top of everything, they couldn't even contact the Admiralty?!
That stowaway had better have answers or death would be a long time coming!
Keys ticked one by one as the AAR took form on the screen.
Akizuiki; two shots below the waterline, internal flooding, watertight compartments holding, major fire damage. Under tow. Priority A.
Hatsuharu; three turrets destroyed, minor fire damage. Priority C.
Wakaba: Critical hit below the waterline, one boiler knocked out, major fire damage. Priority A.
Fubuki;...
Nagato's pushed the laptop away as her heart clenched. Steepling her fingers, she willed away the horrific images.
Fubuki, you brave, brave girl...
The radio transcripts of the engagement and later reports painted a grim picture. Ambushed by subs, the carrier division had been thrown into disarray, with Akagi dead to rights. The ambush would have robbed them of a valuable carrier, if not for a brave little Destroyer with the cutest crush in the entire navy taking the killing blow.
Two subsequent torpedos amidships... it had nearly broken the Destroyer in half.
It was a miracle she remained afloat.
Chasing the horrific images out of her mind, Nagato returned the laptop to its position and continued typing. So many injuries. They had gotten off lucky this time... unlike their American allies.
Operation Cutback had been a disaster.
A flawed plan from the start: Not enough intelligence and a target that was far too enticing to ignore. The Americans had gotten mauled. Nagato thought she'd seen the worst of intelligence blunders during the Pacific war, but this was even worse. Reports were still trickling in, but already the USN losses were astronomical; steel hull and Kanumsu alike. Outplayed and outgunned, their allies were forced to retreat, hounded by Abyssal strike divisions the entire way.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Pacific, the Japanese fleet steamed home bloodied, but victorious, without a single ship lost. Tactically, they may have won. Strategically, the Pacific was still well and truly under Abyssal control. Damn them; even a century later and Midway was still a thorn in their side.
And she had gotten distracted again.
Sighing, she finished cataloging the Destroyers, then moved on to the Cruisers, Carriers, and finally the Battleships. In the end, she pushed away from her desk, staring out the window at the night sky, exhausted.
A miracle. She was witnessing a bloody miracle. Fubuki might have gotten the worst of it, but there were still more than enough injuries across the fleet to sink Iowa ten times over.
But all her girls would be coming home.
Akagi had better treat her savior to all the ice cream in the world or they would be having words.
The rest of the report was finished in short order. Taking the freshly printed report, she left her office. Yokosuka was so quiet at this time of night, but with most of their ships deployed on Cutback or patrols, it felt emptier still.
But at least they would all be returning safe and sound. After this, she would need to coordinate with Ooyodo on supply allocations and repair times. She sighed. Amending the patrol schedule would be a nightmare. She would volunteer for a few rotations and give the others time to rest. They would appreciate it.
Approaching the Admiral's office, Nagato knocked politely on the door.
"Battleship Nagato, reporting!"
The response did not come immediately, leaving an awkward pause. Finally.
"Come in."
Admiral Goto was not alone. Leaning over his shoulder, pointing at something on his computer screen was Akashi. The two Seaplane Tenders, Chitose and Chiyoda, stood off to the side, whispering to each other.
As for the Admiral himself, he had clearly ignored her advice to get some sleep. Dark bags hung under his eyes and he had actually moved the overtaxed coffee machine onto his desk. A few papers were stained with brown spots as he managed the aftermath of the disastrous operation.
"Admiral." Nagato saluted sharply, before placing the report on his desk. "I apologize if I was interrupting."
"No, that's alright, I was about to call you, anyways." Goto sighed, politely waving off Akashi, who moved to stand beside Nagato. Now that the battleship got a good look at her, the repair ship appeared worried out of her mind.
Goto examined his screen for another minute, then addressed the assembled Kanmusu. "I apologize for calling you all on such short notice, Chitose, Chiyoda, Nagato, but I'm afraid we have no other choice. To sum it up; yesterday, an unknown radar signature was detected off Japan's northern coast. Since the time of its appearance, it has followed a rough bearing towards the Aomori region at a top speed of four knots."
He paused, the tiredness in his eyes was more prominent than ever. "Akashi believes that... what we're seeing here is a natural summon. Albeit, a damaged one."
For a moment, the words didn't properly register, but when they did, Nagato recoiled in horror. The two Tenders weren't much better. Chitose looked ready to be sick. Even Akashi cringed.
"Are... are you certain?" Nagato whispered.
To be summoned was something sacred. A ship's rebirth into this new existence where they were more than just mere vessels. But... to be summoned... damaged...
"It's speculation at this point, but it's the best explanation so far. It's given no response to radio or any other means of communication, but I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt." Goto steepled his fingers, pausing. "Akashi."
The repair ship straightened as she was addressed. "I'm appointing you as flagship for this mission. If it becomes search and rescue, do what you feel is best. Chitose, Chiyoda, I'm sorry to deploy you again so soon, I know your patrol schedule is tight, but you're the only air power we have available at the moment."
The two Tenders nodded, resolutely.
"Hai. You can count on us, Admiral."
"Nagato." Here, Goto appeared the most apologetic. "I hate to pull you away from your duties, especially at this time, but you're the only battleship we have at the moment. You are the protection detail."
"Hai."
Taking a moment to collect himself, the Admiral carried on. "Apologies once again to you all, but if Akashi is right, we don't have a lot of time. We don't know how bad her damage is or if she will even make it to shore. Estimates put the contact making landfall sometime this morning. The Coast Guard is keeping an eye out, but if this proves to be a deception they'll be hopelessly outclassed. I pray that's not the case, but that's why I'm sending you."
Goto paused, taking in his makeshift patrol with a weary eye; the stress of the last forty-eight hours painfully obvious on his features. Finally, he sighed. "I don't like this. It stinks of a trap, but we have no other choice. Either we leave a ship to her fate, or we let an Abyssal walk right up to our front door."
Reaching across his desk, he handed a stack of papers to each of them. "Train tickets. You leave in... less than an hour. I'd much rather have you in between that contact and the populous rather than playing catch up along the coast. Any questions?"
Yes, many. But judging from Goto's deportment, he had offered it up as a formality. Everyone could feel it, and no one spoke.
"Then I won't keep you any longer then." Standing with a tired groan, the Admiral saluted, a gesture the fleet returned automatically. "Dismissed, and godspeed."
The group filed out. The Admiral's door had barely shut behind them before Nagato whirled on Akashi. "Tell me this is a joke."
She knew it was a long shot, but Akashi's tired sigh still sent a trill of horror up her keel. "I wish it was, I just don't see any other option. The circumstances are too similar to Kongou's summoning during the Blood Week."
"But damaged?" Nagato whispered, horrified.
If there was one thing both ships and scientists agreed on, it was that a vessel's state at the end of the Second World War played a pivotal role in the state they were summoned. By the end, the Japanese fleet had been all but obliterated, with the survivors taken as reparations, scraped, or used in the testing of new, powerful weapons.
Technically speaking, the only 'damaged ships' at the war's conclusion were on the bottom of the ocean.
"It's my best guess," Akashi said, meekly. "I... I really don't know what else it could be. It's awful, I know, but between her speed and bearing, not responding to our hails... Her radio must be out... her screws are probably damaged... or her boilers, it's hard to tell." She sighed, looking absolutely miserable. "That was the best answer I could give. Come on... we'll miss our train if we wait any longer."
Their brief trip to the station was made in silence, even the usually chatty Tenders were struck dumb by their mission. Hanging above them all was the question of who the unfortunate vessel was. So many of them were still unaccounted for, and it was awful to imagine any of them in this scenario.
Nagato steadied herself, willing away the horrific possibilities of what they might find. The only thing she could do was stare up into the night sky, willing the stars to carry her assurances to the stricken vessel.
"Stay strong," she whispered to the twinkling stars. "We're coming for you."
"The British guns were aimed and the shells were coming fast. The first shell hit the Bismarck, they knew she couldn't last. That mighty German battleship is just a memory. 'Sink the Bismarck' was the battle cry that shook the seven seas! - Sing with me, Gremlin!"
Gremlin yowled, irritably. Unperturbed, William kept singing, his feet keeping the rhythm. He had been working his way through his memorized music library in an attempt to stay ahead of his dread. Then found himself stuck in a loop of songs about a certain battleship. It was oddly fitting.
"We found that German battleship that's making such a fuss. We had to sink the Bismarck cause the world depends on us. We hit the deck a runnin' and we swung those guns around. Yeah, we found the mighty Bismarck and then we cut her down."
Gremlin pulled its hat over its ears.
"Come on, my singing isn't that bad." And it was a damn good song considering the circumstances.
"DESU!"
And then the screaming started up again. It had been going on all night. The only reason William wasn't more annoyed at the creature was because it was the first real conversation he'd had in months. A one-sided conversation, but he wasn't letting that little detail get in the way of actually talking to someone again.
However, something had clearly spooked the little gal. She had come running out onto his shoulder before shoving a piece of paper into his face, waving it back and forth like an exorcist. The anime scrawl had meant nothing to him, which Gremlin had found particularly offensive. She spent the next hour screaming at him, gesturing wildly between the battleship, himself, and the paper, before finally giving up with a mournful wail.
He honestly felt bad for the creature. After failing to convey her message, Gremlin had flopped forward, staring out onto the ocean with a comically heartbroken expression.
Nothing he did seemed to comfort it, so he let the matter rest. That didn't stop him from wondering what exactly would happen to it when he was recovered. He, undoubtedly, would go on trial, and that was a thought he was putting off for as long as possible. But Gremlin? He didn't know. It wasn't human, though it seemed harmless enough.
Personally, he was okay with it. As for the rest of the world, he didn't know.
Well, Japan would probably be okay with it; it was certainly cute and anime enough for them. Maybe he could let it go? Release it into the wild and keep it secret.
Yeeeeah, releasing a creature from the Abyss into the wild was a great idea.
Ahead of them, the sun started to rise and revealed a long black strip on the horizon. His gut clenched. He'd made his choice... now he just had to live with the consequences. Praying he hadn't made the wrong choice, he took a deep breath.
"You see? I told you we'd make it."
For some reason, Gremlin let out the loudest anguished wail yet.
EDIT Dec 9, 2023: Fixed grammar and spelling.
The sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky red and yellow like dancing flames, burning down to coals. The silver moon rose in its place as the light faded, the sky slowly turning black. Just like that, the veil of the heavens was pulled back and the stars appeared in all their glory. Countless bright lights, interrupted only by the occasional passing satellite. Constellations untold, twinkling high above.
As if the night sky itself was welcoming him home.
For what felt like an eternity, William stopped to bask in the radiance. Forget technology, this... this was proof enough that he was home. And the noise... there was no more eternal silence; just the sound of gentle waves lapping at his feet, and the wind against his exposed skin.
God, how he missed it.
With tears stinging his eyes, he checked his compass and resumed his journey. By his rough count, he had roughly a hundred more kilometers to go. But with a view like this, he'd happily walk a hundred more. He had conquered the distance with ease, never tiring despite the contraption strapped to his back. The thing certainly had mass; he could feel it swaying as he walked. But for weight? It felt like a part of his own body; whatever weight it had was barely noticeable.
There were so many questions, and he would probably never get answers. Or, at the very least, he wouldn't question how he was standing on water until after he had reached dry land. Then he could hopefully pass on the mystery to people a lot smarter than he was.
But... was that the right thing to do?
Despite the cliche, Goldblum summed it up perfectly. Science was always asking if you could, never if you should. The Abyss was not something to be trifled with. Impossible powers of restoration and a causal disregard for the laws of physics and buoyancy. And then... there was the Song. He shivered. His eyes were living proof of the power it wielded, a power he was bringing right to Earth's doorstep.
The more he thought about it, the less certain he became. The Abyss had been consistent, but still nothing about it made sense. The maelstrom, the compass leading him to it, the Song itself... had it all been a mistake? Had he just accidentally stumbled into a realm humans weren't meant to see, or was there something more sinister at play?
As his mind raced, his pace slowed until he was standing still on the gently rolling waves.
Why was he here? He was overjoyed to be out, but why had the Abyss sent him back? It had tried and failed to corrupt him... but then just spat him out. Why? Was it all a trap? Was he unknowingly dooming the world with each step that brought him closer to shore?
Slowly, his hand trailed down to his stomach, feeling his muscles through the cloth. On the surface, he felt fine. Better than fine, even. Powerful. No aches, no pain; it was like all the suffering at the hands of the Song had never happened. The relief was bliss.
Over time, however, that bliss had been replaced by an uncomfortable void. As strange as it sounded, he... he couldn't feel his organs anymore. Call him crazy, no one was supposed to feel their own liver, but that was the only way he could describe it. An emptiness filled his chest, even spreading out to where his bones were supposed to be. He felt... hollow.
The worst part was when he concentrated on the emptiness; he could get some sensation back, but what he got was strange and alien. Flares of heat and tremors where they shouldn't be. And when he really focused on it... there was a strange, tingling sensation. Like thousands of tiny feet.. ants crawling around inside him in neat, orderly paths.
He wrenched his mind away, breathing heavily as the phantom sensations subsided. But it was still there... it was always there; the hollowness lingering just beneath his skin. The Abyss had done more than spit him out and strap a battleship to his back; something had changed inside him.
For a moment, the raw horror rooted him in place.
Had he really escaped... or had he been set loose?
Was it best to keep going? For all he knew, he was bringing the apocalypse back with him; dooming everyone and everything that had kept him going for so long.
The decision tore at him: Churned his stomach until he felt ready to throw up. There was no real right answer. There would be consequences down the line, regardless of what he chose. Consequences he could only guess at, simply because he didn't know enough!
If the worst did come to pass, he would look back at this moment and hate himself for being so selfish. But... if he decided to take the bullet for everyone... what if he was wrong?
"...God, why me?..."
...home...
Slowly, as the stars shone down from above, he forced his feet to move again. One foot in front of the other, picking up speed, forcing his attention into each movement. A distraction. It was an awful decision, but at the same time, indecision wouldn't solve anything either.
And maybe he was just too damn selfish. He hadn't come this far, endured for this long just to give up on speculation alone.
Plus... he was back on Earth. Here, at least, there was hope. A chance... He fervently prayed he wasn't making the worst mistake of his life.
Until then, there were always the stars. The world, at least, remained unchanged. For now, there was just the ocean ahead. And gradually, even his fear and self-loathing were eased away under the relaxing music of the waves. The endless 'splish splash' of his boots against an impossible surface.
Almost by accident, they fell into a familiar melody. A song he hadn't thought of in months, years maybe. Encouraged by the gentle waves around him, he mouthed the lyrics along with the beat. But when he got to the chorus, he couldn't help but smirk.
It was just so fitting.
"...but I would walk five hundred miles... a~and I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door." His voice grew stronger with each line, his speed increasing to keep pace with the tune in his head.
He hadn't been able to do this in so long; imagining music. The Abyss had stifled everything both inside and out. But now, for just a moment, he could dare to hope that everything would turn out fine.
"And when I come home, yes, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you... I'm gonna be the man who's coming ho~ome to you."
With his gaze fixed straight ahead and song on his lips, he never saw the moon reflecting off a pair of eyes far off in the distance.
----
A pale face poked out of the water, long black hair obscuring her features, except for her blue eyes and a twisted breathing apparatus covering her mouth and nose.
Yes. The battleship was still there.
A lone battleship. Unescorted: all that tonnage, such a tantalizing target. Not to mention the prestige that would come from sinking the Yamato herself. She licked her lips... but, her orders superseded her blood lust.
Weeks worth of careful planning had gone into her position, if she exposed her presence now... well, failing her Hime would be the least of her worries. This deep in human territory, she wasn't the only predator listening. Although, the idiot who claimed the Yamato was still docked at Truk Island would need a good kick to the aft for her screw-up! She bet the humans didn't have these kinds of intel fuck ups.
Although she couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the lone battleship. There was no visible damage and barely any sound profile at all. Her screws didn't seem to be turning; there wasn't even any smoke coming out of her funnel. Yet the battleship crawled along at a snail's pace, barely breaking four knots.
Had she broken down? Ugh, wouldn't that be her luck. The pride of the Japanese fleet crippled right in her cross-hairs, and she couldn't put a single torpedo up that fine aft. If only she was a little bit closer so she could appreciate that fine aft too. At least a little show would make the disappointment easier to bear.
The Ka-class submarine sunk lower in the water as she sulked. Without a doubt, this was the most thankless assignment ever. The opportunity of a lifetime was slipping right through her fingers!
Such was her life as a glorified sonar buoy. Pouting, she sank lower into the water, turning her attention back to the sounds bouncing around the ocean. It would appear that the master plan, quote-unquote, was working. Patrols both surface and submarine were occupied. And she was still alive, that was always a plus.
Hours passed, and the battleship eventually crawled away. Night slowly turned into morning, the sun rising high over the bored-out-of-her-mind sub. Maybe the Pacific Installations had done their job a little too well, a little noise would give her something to focus on, at least.
It was about mid-morning when the drone of aircraft heralded the arrival of a solitary Abyssal torpedo bomber. Flying low above the water, it cut a long, arching path across the sky. The Ka-class wasn't an aviation specialist by any means, but flying that low couldn't have been safe. She could have slapped it right out of the sky if it didn't fall into the ocean on its own. The engine spluttered and coughed, and the exhaust certainly didn't look healthy.
And the torpedo it carried... the Ka had never seen anything like it. Less a torpedo, it more resembled an external fuel tank with a series of nozzles running down the bottom. A fine mist was spraying out, leaving a sparkling trail behind the bomber like particles of glass. Rather than dissipate naturally, the contrail thickened in the open air, drifting down to float above the surface of the ocean, creating a wall of gas between the ocean and the mainland miles away.
The Ka caught a whiff of the stuff and gagged. Sinking deeper, she switched to her internal air tanks as the wall of gas thickened. She felt sick; the scent enough to churn her holds. Her crew was worse off; the ones closest to her hatches were carried off to see a doctor, their lungs burning. What in the Deep was that stuff?
Its job complete, the bomber retreated to the northeast where the masts of an Abyssal fleet were cresting the horizon. They were only slightly faster than the earlier battleship, creeping across the water. The Ka was forced to admit that the tactic did have some merit. Their sonar signatures were... less. It wasn't like a surface vessel could hide itself completely, not to her, but they were quieter than usual. And the smoke from their funnels was almost none existent.
They weren't submarines, but they were doing their damn best to be as invisible as possible.
As the fleet approached, the bombers made more fly-bys, creeping the wall of gas closer to the mainland with each pass. Before long, the lead Destroyers were right on top of her, the animalistic vessels passing as silently as they could. Next was a screen of Cruisers with...
The Ka-class flinched.
Each of the Cruisers bore the Mountain on their foreheads; the brown and red mark standing out in sharp relief against their pale skin.
What?
Her Hime never said anything about working with those lunatics!
But it was too late to question her orders now as the flagship drifted to a stop beside her, brushing a short lock of hair out of her eye as she regarded the sub coldly.
The Fast Attack Battleship was something to behold. Cold, red eyes stared out through a pair of glasses as if calculating the best way to snatch the sub out of the water like a fish. Then, she looked west, toward the mainland, and smiled.
"By my calculations, your role in this is over," the Hime purred, lazily waving a hand in dismissal. "You have performed your role perfectly. Run along now."
The Ka rose high enough above the surface to hastily bow, before slinking away from the slobbering monstrosity that was the Hime's rigging.
The fleet turned hard towards the mainland, ignoring the Ka entirely. A vanguard of destroyers covered a handful of light cruisers and their heavier sisters; all of them branded with that same damn mark. Cowards the lot of them. At the heart of the formation were three Wo-Class Carriers. Two of them were marked, but the third...
The submarine glared at the carrier's unmarked forehead. Coward, the Deep damned coward! What was she doing here with them?
If the Wo-class could feel her hatred, she ignored it, steaming past while keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon. But after the carriers came a whale-like monstrosity; its pale arms straining against the chains that held down thousands of tons of cargo to its back. Its teeth grinding against the bit in its mouth.
The Ka's eyes widened. A Co-class transport... they were rare and highly coveted by their Himes, to such a point that even the sub had never seen one in person. A single one could carry as much as an entire convoy. What they lacked in firepower they more than made up for in armor and sheer ferocity. She had heard the stories; more than one human steel hull had been rammed and sunk by an enraged Co. Although, they were large, obvious targets; slow to manoeuver and even slower to get up to speed, and, in the Ka's mind, very impractical.
Very easy targets if you knew what you were doing.
To see one was rare. but this fleet had three of them. Enough supplies to summon and sustain an entire battle line... or something much larger.
As they steamed away, the carrier's work grew more urgent. More bombers were launched with the strange sprayers, their long contrails forming a box around the fleet that was constantly being replaced as it faded or the fleet approached the edge, moving ever closer to Japan.
As the fleet departed, the Ka-class went to submerge, then froze with dread. She had forgotten to mention the battleship, shit. For a moment, she was paralyzed with fright, then she slowly sank out of sight before swimming away as casually as possible.
She wasn't about to go back and admit any mistake to a Hime. Besides, what could a single battleship, even if it was the Yamato, do against an entire fleet?
----
"Desu desu, desu... DESU!!"
Oaths most foul, oaths that hadn't been heard in a hundred years, oaths that would drive a noble samurai to commit seppuku in horror from being within earshot, flowed freely from the Captain's mouth. Oh, when she got a hold of that truly despicable wretch, they would beg for the sweet release of death. They would beg for mercy!
But both the Captain and Musashi, ugly she might be, would look down on her suffering and say... no.
No, there would be no mercy for this vandal! This pineapple-flinging monster!
And the Captain would enjoy every. Single. Second of it.
O~oh yes, she would.
Until then... ugh.
Disgusted, the Captain shoved another handful of litter into the fabric garbage bag. The slime and juices of old pineapple oozed onto her stubby limbs, driving her fury to new heights. Two identical bags, stuffed to the brim with refuse, sat by the hatch, their bottoms wet and oozing out onto the floor.
Three bags! Three bags worth of tin! And she had barely made a dent in the mess! Her jaw creaked as she did her very best to grind her teeth down to dust.
Yes... this monster would beg for death before the end. But death would not come easy; not until the entire crew had gotten a piece of this bastard!
Security had turned up nothing. Although the search was still on, such a toll had been dealt to Musashi that all operations had been suspended until the mess was resolved. Much to the chagrin of the entire crew, waiting for the perpetrator to right her wrongs would mean leaving Musashi inoperable and defenseless! Now they had to clean the ship themselves, robbing the monster of the just punishment for her crimes!
And maybe, just maybe, she'd have a chance to explain how exactly a tin had made it into the damned FIRE DIRECTOR?!?!
The Captain hurled the bag against the wall with an enraged screech. It flopped to the ground with the others as she fumed.
"Desu..."
Yes, death was too good for the stowaway.
Just punishment or not, the ship had to be cleansed and brought back to operational status before anything else.
...of course, the absolutely unfair part - and in her most unbiased opinion - was that her quarters had suffered the worst!! Damn that stowaway to hell!! But, let it never be said she wasn't a fairy of integrity. They were her quarters, dammit! She would not pull valuable fairy-power away for her own comfort. No sir!
But she would beat the ever-loving tar out of that desuing stowaway, before sending her on her way down the well-deserved ride to hell!
Grabbing another bag, she bravely dove back into the mess with a vengeance! However, when she reached into the pile of tin, her stub found something... weird. More than a little confused at the texture, the little fairy pulled the object free.
It was a bag. The strangest bag that had ever existed. The entire thing appeared to have been made out of thousands of green, black, and brown squares that were stitched together so perfectly that there was no seam. It couldn't have been dyed; the colors were intermingled in such a way as to make that impossible. And the material itself felt weird.
Frowning, the Captain tested the stuff.
Too heavy to be silk... too tough to be cloth... too stiff to be rubber... and smelt nothing like leather.
She nibbled a corner and retched. Didn't taste like fabric either. Material aside, she didn't recognize the design either. It certainly wasn't Japanese, and by that logic, it couldn't have been summoned along with Musashi! Slowly, a devious grin spread across the Captain's plump features as she realized exactly what she was holding.
Before she could put that knowledge to good use, there was a knock at her door. That appeared to be all the courtesy the Chief Engineer was willing to give as she shouldered the door open, followed by a flustered Ensign apologizing profusely for failing to stop-
Both fairies stopped dead as they took in the state of the quarters. The Ensign was horrified. The Chief burst into laughter. She had thought engineering had gotten the worst of it!
"Desu!" The Captain spat, throwing a tin that bounced squarely off the Chief's thick skull. Get to the point!
The Chief sobered up quickly, only to report that they had a big problem all around the ship.
And it wasn't the stowaway's mess, either. Here the Chief hesitated. There was... a lack of communication with the ship.
"Desu?" the Captain retorted. What did that even mean, a 'lack of communication?'
Exactly that, the Chief shot back. Everything was working, but Musashi wasn't responding to anything the crew was doing. They were getting the worst of it down in engineering. No matter what they did, the drive shafts refused to spin. Hell, nothing connected to the outside world seemed to work. Huffing, the Chief crossed her arms. Either something was horrendously jammed – a possibility, considering the state the vessel was summoned in – or Musashi just didn't want to move... or even knew that she could. The Chief was leaning towards the latter option.
Even the Captain was confused at her assessment.
"Desu?" the Chief asked. Couldn't they feel it? Ships had a presence about them, even while they were steel hulls. You could feel where their attention was and sort of vice versa. The fairies were part of Musashi's crew, after all; they should have known how their ship was feeling. But the Chief was feeling nothing. The connection to the ship was numb.
Slowly, the Captain understood. With the horrific truth of Musashi's ugliness, the mess, and the stowaway, her emotions had been running too high to notice the lack of a connection that should have been there.
She couldn't feel her vessel. And evidently, none of the other fairies could either.
"Desu desu!" It's the damn stowaway's fault, she cried!
"Desu," the Chief shot back dryly. She didn't see how a mere stowaway could affect the spirit of a battleship. More than likely Musashi was still adjusting to being a living paradox and was favoring her human side more... though even that didn't fully explain things.
It was the now frazzled Ensign who piped up and timidly asked how exactly the Chief knew these things.
The senior fairy just shrugged. She was the chief engineer, generally in charge of maintaining the vessel; she was supposed to know these things.
After taking a moment to process that, the Ensign pointed out that her position alone didn't exactly qualify her in such matters. That earned the fledgling officer a flat look and the advice to drop the subject before she went too deep. The extensional crisis wasn't worth it.
But it was the stowaway, the Captain insisted! The pieces were starting to fit together! That damned pineapple totting vandal had done more to Musashi than they realized! Now turning their once beautiful ship ugly was the very least of her crimes!
"Desu?"
The Captain flinched, then sagged in defeat. She'd said the ugly part out loud, hadn't she?
"Desu??" The Chief repeated, incredulous.
Running a hand down her plump cheeks in exasperation, the Captain turned, prepared to swear her crew to secrecy, only to find her quarters lacking one Chief Engineer. The distant sound of boots clambering up a distant ladder drifted through the open door. The poor Ensign, on the other stub, was frozen in horror.
"D... Desu?" she echoed, meekly.
The Captain fixed her with a look that could peel paint from the walls, commanding her to not breathe a word of this to anyone else. Morale was low enough already; to learn that the pride of Japan was-
The sound of boots coming back down a ladder interrupted her, and within seconds the Chief wandered back into the room. Her face was slack, with a glazed look that only frosted confectioneries could match. The Captain took a breath. So... the Chief had seen the awful truth.
Slowly, the engineer nodded. "Desu..."
And there was only one thing for it, the Captain whispered, again repeating her decree of secrecy. The morale of the entire ship depended on it.
That shook the Chief back to alertness. Now she just looked unimpressed.
"Desu." First of all, the Captain was an idiot.
The fairy in question spluttered indignantly, but the Chief didn't let up. Musashi was not 'ugly' as the Captain had claimed. 'She' was actually a 'he'... And with that in mind, the change of equipment down in engineering suddenly made sense.
No, it didn't! The Captain cried. Nothing about this made sense! It was all the stowaway's fault, she knew it!
"Desu," the Chief grunted. The Captain was taking this a little too personally.
Said fairy threw out her arms, gesturing wildly to the mess her quarters had become. Could you blame her? But now, they had the advantage! For though the stowaway had defiled this most sacred of sanctuaries, she had made one fatal mistake!
Behold!!
The Captain grabbed the mysterious bag, holding it above her head.
The stowaway's stuff!
The Ensign 'oohed.' Even the sourpuss Chief was intrigued by the strange material. Taking the mysterious bag from the Captain, she turned it over, examining a number of strange black pieces that connected various straps. She too nibbled a corner, smacked her lips a few times, then her face screwed up in disgust.
It tasted like petroleum! What kind of idiot would make a bag out of flammable fuel? Why waste the oil, anyway?
"Desu," the Captain said, resolutely. Surely, the stowaway's depravity was matched only by her sheer stupidity for such a blunder!
The Chief grumbled something under her breath, tugging at various pieces of the bag. A flap on the top was held down by two of those black pieces, and underneath it appeared to be the main compartment of the bag. Frustratingly, there were no buttons or drawstrings to release it. Yowling, The Chief pulled on the top flap with all her fairy strength. The black pieces cracked and the flap flew open. The bag was promptly upended and its contents dumped over the floor.
What was inside only deepened the mystery. A number of smaller bags, varying in size and all made out of the same weird material, just in different colors. But the strangest object by far was a small, green box, the edges of which were blunted with rubber.
"Desu?" the Chief piped up. She had opened one of the smaller bags and pulled out a cylinder of black plastic. The fascinating bit was when you turned certain sections, the cylinder would lengthen or contract. Obviously, it was some sort of telescope. So not only were they dealing with a pineapple flinging, vandalizing, beauty-destroying stowaway, but a spy as well!
"Desu," the Chief piped up again. A very inept one too, by the looks of it. She was flipping the telescope around, peering through one end then the other, polishing the glass with a stub, then trying again. You couldn't see anything through this.
Poor quality most likely; much like America's mass-produced battleships!
Which would mean this – the Captain picked up the strange box - was some sort of secure storage device! It was hollow, and when she shook it, she could clearly hear paper shuffling inside. The devious grin returned; this was even better than she hoped.
"Desu!" she hosted the box high, heroically claiming that they now had the perfect bait! If the stowaway could not be found, then they would lure her out! Now all they needed was a trap.
Almost instantly the excited Ensign's hand shot into the air. "Desu!"
They could leave all this stuff in the brig, tie a string to the door, and wait out of sight. When the stowaway tried to retrieve her equipment, they would slam the door shut, locking her inside!
The Chief did not look impressed. "Des-"
"DESU!!" Genius! The Captain crowed. Taking the various bags, she pushed them into the Ensign's arms. This was now her most noble of tasks. Trap this monster! Use whatever resources where needed to bring this interloper to justice! Thus decreed the Captain!
The Ensign accepted this mission as if it was handed down from the Emperor himself. She would not rest until justice was had, and Musashi avenged!
The Chief sighed as the Ensign hurried off. That was the dumbest idea she'd ever heard. Turning to the beaming Captain, she saluted. She had to get back to work... the fire director still needed to be taken apart. And yes, she would keep Musashi's new equipment a secret. However, they would need to tell the crew eventually. Fairies were starting to grow uneasy about the lack of their ship's presence.
"Desu," the Captain assured her. Once they had the stowaway in captivity everything would be revealed, and sweet justice dealt. Then Musashi could be returned to her beautiful self!
The Chief shrugged. The ship's human form didn't look that bad actually.
Sh – He's hideous! The Captain protested.
Shrugging again, the Chief turned and left.
Blowing a silent raspberry at her retreating back, the Captain returned to cleaning. The Chief probably had a thing for beards, that was the only explanation for her being so dense; shrugging off Musashi's appearance like it was nothing! That was not the face of the battleship launched from Nagasaki all those years ago.
She... she didn't know how, but she knew it wasn't right! Musashi was never like that... right?
...Right?
Unconsciously, she reached for her connection to the ship, only to come up blank. And to be honest, she was terrified at what she'd feel on the other side. If Musashi couldn't even understand Japanese, and that strange map and... weird coordinate-finding machine... what if the ship's appearance wasn't the only thing that had changed?
She shivered. That damn stowaway had better have answers. What had she done to their ship?!
As the Captain reached for another can, her boot knocked something across the floor; one of the small bags. It must have fallen out of the larger one and the Ensign missed it.
But... this could actually work to their advantage. In the unlikely chance the Ensign's plan should fail, there was still one piece of equipment the stowaway would be missing! And she would have to go through the Captain to get it!
Marveling at her own prudence, she picked the bag up. Only, it wasn't so much a bag. In fact, it resembled an American wallet but made out of that same strange material. Also, there didn't appear to be a way to open it. The two halves of the wallet were stuck together with a tougher, black strip that felt like the spines of a pineapple.
But before she could investigate further, the door to her quarters was again thrown open. Once the flustered radio officer had finished gawking at the state of her room, she delivered more bad news.
They were picking up radio transmissions from the mainland, but Musashi wasn't responding! Worse, their own radios were unable to transmit! And... well, they couldn't feel Musashi at all! It was weird! Was everything alright with their ship?!
Alarmed, the Captain followed the technician back to the radio room, unconsciously shoving the strange wallet into a pocket as she did so.
On top of everything, they couldn't even contact the Admiralty?!
That stowaway had better have answers or death would be a long time coming!
----
Keys ticked one by one as the AAR took form on the screen.
Akizuiki; two shots below the waterline, internal flooding, watertight compartments holding, major fire damage. Under tow. Priority A.
Hatsuharu; three turrets destroyed, minor fire damage. Priority C.
Wakaba: Critical hit below the waterline, one boiler knocked out, major fire damage. Priority A.
Fubuki;...
Nagato's pushed the laptop away as her heart clenched. Steepling her fingers, she willed away the horrific images.
Fubuki, you brave, brave girl...
The radio transcripts of the engagement and later reports painted a grim picture. Ambushed by subs, the carrier division had been thrown into disarray, with Akagi dead to rights. The ambush would have robbed them of a valuable carrier, if not for a brave little Destroyer with the cutest crush in the entire navy taking the killing blow.
Two subsequent torpedos amidships... it had nearly broken the Destroyer in half.
It was a miracle she remained afloat.
Chasing the horrific images out of her mind, Nagato returned the laptop to its position and continued typing. So many injuries. They had gotten off lucky this time... unlike their American allies.
Operation Cutback had been a disaster.
A flawed plan from the start: Not enough intelligence and a target that was far too enticing to ignore. The Americans had gotten mauled. Nagato thought she'd seen the worst of intelligence blunders during the Pacific war, but this was even worse. Reports were still trickling in, but already the USN losses were astronomical; steel hull and Kanumsu alike. Outplayed and outgunned, their allies were forced to retreat, hounded by Abyssal strike divisions the entire way.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Pacific, the Japanese fleet steamed home bloodied, but victorious, without a single ship lost. Tactically, they may have won. Strategically, the Pacific was still well and truly under Abyssal control. Damn them; even a century later and Midway was still a thorn in their side.
And she had gotten distracted again.
Sighing, she finished cataloging the Destroyers, then moved on to the Cruisers, Carriers, and finally the Battleships. In the end, she pushed away from her desk, staring out the window at the night sky, exhausted.
A miracle. She was witnessing a bloody miracle. Fubuki might have gotten the worst of it, but there were still more than enough injuries across the fleet to sink Iowa ten times over.
But all her girls would be coming home.
Akagi had better treat her savior to all the ice cream in the world or they would be having words.
The rest of the report was finished in short order. Taking the freshly printed report, she left her office. Yokosuka was so quiet at this time of night, but with most of their ships deployed on Cutback or patrols, it felt emptier still.
But at least they would all be returning safe and sound. After this, she would need to coordinate with Ooyodo on supply allocations and repair times. She sighed. Amending the patrol schedule would be a nightmare. She would volunteer for a few rotations and give the others time to rest. They would appreciate it.
Approaching the Admiral's office, Nagato knocked politely on the door.
"Battleship Nagato, reporting!"
The response did not come immediately, leaving an awkward pause. Finally.
"Come in."
Admiral Goto was not alone. Leaning over his shoulder, pointing at something on his computer screen was Akashi. The two Seaplane Tenders, Chitose and Chiyoda, stood off to the side, whispering to each other.
As for the Admiral himself, he had clearly ignored her advice to get some sleep. Dark bags hung under his eyes and he had actually moved the overtaxed coffee machine onto his desk. A few papers were stained with brown spots as he managed the aftermath of the disastrous operation.
"Admiral." Nagato saluted sharply, before placing the report on his desk. "I apologize if I was interrupting."
"No, that's alright, I was about to call you, anyways." Goto sighed, politely waving off Akashi, who moved to stand beside Nagato. Now that the battleship got a good look at her, the repair ship appeared worried out of her mind.
Goto examined his screen for another minute, then addressed the assembled Kanmusu. "I apologize for calling you all on such short notice, Chitose, Chiyoda, Nagato, but I'm afraid we have no other choice. To sum it up; yesterday, an unknown radar signature was detected off Japan's northern coast. Since the time of its appearance, it has followed a rough bearing towards the Aomori region at a top speed of four knots."
He paused, the tiredness in his eyes was more prominent than ever. "Akashi believes that... what we're seeing here is a natural summon. Albeit, a damaged one."
For a moment, the words didn't properly register, but when they did, Nagato recoiled in horror. The two Tenders weren't much better. Chitose looked ready to be sick. Even Akashi cringed.
"Are... are you certain?" Nagato whispered.
To be summoned was something sacred. A ship's rebirth into this new existence where they were more than just mere vessels. But... to be summoned... damaged...
"It's speculation at this point, but it's the best explanation so far. It's given no response to radio or any other means of communication, but I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt." Goto steepled his fingers, pausing. "Akashi."
The repair ship straightened as she was addressed. "I'm appointing you as flagship for this mission. If it becomes search and rescue, do what you feel is best. Chitose, Chiyoda, I'm sorry to deploy you again so soon, I know your patrol schedule is tight, but you're the only air power we have available at the moment."
The two Tenders nodded, resolutely.
"Hai. You can count on us, Admiral."
"Nagato." Here, Goto appeared the most apologetic. "I hate to pull you away from your duties, especially at this time, but you're the only battleship we have at the moment. You are the protection detail."
"Hai."
Taking a moment to collect himself, the Admiral carried on. "Apologies once again to you all, but if Akashi is right, we don't have a lot of time. We don't know how bad her damage is or if she will even make it to shore. Estimates put the contact making landfall sometime this morning. The Coast Guard is keeping an eye out, but if this proves to be a deception they'll be hopelessly outclassed. I pray that's not the case, but that's why I'm sending you."
Goto paused, taking in his makeshift patrol with a weary eye; the stress of the last forty-eight hours painfully obvious on his features. Finally, he sighed. "I don't like this. It stinks of a trap, but we have no other choice. Either we leave a ship to her fate, or we let an Abyssal walk right up to our front door."
Reaching across his desk, he handed a stack of papers to each of them. "Train tickets. You leave in... less than an hour. I'd much rather have you in between that contact and the populous rather than playing catch up along the coast. Any questions?"
Yes, many. But judging from Goto's deportment, he had offered it up as a formality. Everyone could feel it, and no one spoke.
"Then I won't keep you any longer then." Standing with a tired groan, the Admiral saluted, a gesture the fleet returned automatically. "Dismissed, and godspeed."
The group filed out. The Admiral's door had barely shut behind them before Nagato whirled on Akashi. "Tell me this is a joke."
She knew it was a long shot, but Akashi's tired sigh still sent a trill of horror up her keel. "I wish it was, I just don't see any other option. The circumstances are too similar to Kongou's summoning during the Blood Week."
"But damaged?" Nagato whispered, horrified.
If there was one thing both ships and scientists agreed on, it was that a vessel's state at the end of the Second World War played a pivotal role in the state they were summoned. By the end, the Japanese fleet had been all but obliterated, with the survivors taken as reparations, scraped, or used in the testing of new, powerful weapons.
Technically speaking, the only 'damaged ships' at the war's conclusion were on the bottom of the ocean.
"It's my best guess," Akashi said, meekly. "I... I really don't know what else it could be. It's awful, I know, but between her speed and bearing, not responding to our hails... Her radio must be out... her screws are probably damaged... or her boilers, it's hard to tell." She sighed, looking absolutely miserable. "That was the best answer I could give. Come on... we'll miss our train if we wait any longer."
Their brief trip to the station was made in silence, even the usually chatty Tenders were struck dumb by their mission. Hanging above them all was the question of who the unfortunate vessel was. So many of them were still unaccounted for, and it was awful to imagine any of them in this scenario.
Nagato steadied herself, willing away the horrific possibilities of what they might find. The only thing she could do was stare up into the night sky, willing the stars to carry her assurances to the stricken vessel.
"Stay strong," she whispered to the twinkling stars. "We're coming for you."
----
"The British guns were aimed and the shells were coming fast. The first shell hit the Bismarck, they knew she couldn't last. That mighty German battleship is just a memory. 'Sink the Bismarck' was the battle cry that shook the seven seas! - Sing with me, Gremlin!"
Gremlin yowled, irritably. Unperturbed, William kept singing, his feet keeping the rhythm. He had been working his way through his memorized music library in an attempt to stay ahead of his dread. Then found himself stuck in a loop of songs about a certain battleship. It was oddly fitting.
"We found that German battleship that's making such a fuss. We had to sink the Bismarck cause the world depends on us. We hit the deck a runnin' and we swung those guns around. Yeah, we found the mighty Bismarck and then we cut her down."
Gremlin pulled its hat over its ears.
"Come on, my singing isn't that bad." And it was a damn good song considering the circumstances.
"DESU!"
And then the screaming started up again. It had been going on all night. The only reason William wasn't more annoyed at the creature was because it was the first real conversation he'd had in months. A one-sided conversation, but he wasn't letting that little detail get in the way of actually talking to someone again.
However, something had clearly spooked the little gal. She had come running out onto his shoulder before shoving a piece of paper into his face, waving it back and forth like an exorcist. The anime scrawl had meant nothing to him, which Gremlin had found particularly offensive. She spent the next hour screaming at him, gesturing wildly between the battleship, himself, and the paper, before finally giving up with a mournful wail.
He honestly felt bad for the creature. After failing to convey her message, Gremlin had flopped forward, staring out onto the ocean with a comically heartbroken expression.
Nothing he did seemed to comfort it, so he let the matter rest. That didn't stop him from wondering what exactly would happen to it when he was recovered. He, undoubtedly, would go on trial, and that was a thought he was putting off for as long as possible. But Gremlin? He didn't know. It wasn't human, though it seemed harmless enough.
Personally, he was okay with it. As for the rest of the world, he didn't know.
Well, Japan would probably be okay with it; it was certainly cute and anime enough for them. Maybe he could let it go? Release it into the wild and keep it secret.
Yeeeeah, releasing a creature from the Abyss into the wild was a great idea.
Ahead of them, the sun started to rise and revealed a long black strip on the horizon. His gut clenched. He'd made his choice... now he just had to live with the consequences. Praying he hadn't made the wrong choice, he took a deep breath.
"You see? I told you we'd make it."
For some reason, Gremlin let out the loudest anguished wail yet.
After battling an eye infection that kept me away from the screen, she is finally ready! Not much going on this time around, just setting up the next arc. Here we get our first snap shot of the war. The Abyssals are up to something devious, humanity is reeling from a failed attack, the fairies are growing suspicious, and in the midst of all that, our conflicted Canadian is slowly but surely marching his way home. A little music can brighten everyone's day, though a certain battleship might not appreciate the lyrics.
I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to see you next time!
I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to see you next time!
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Well, we can only he makes it out. Though I wonder what Japan and his government will think of him or how they'll react. Let the alone rest of the world.
Shock,Horror,Confusion.
All of the above.
All of the above.
Man of the Hour
So, I was fooling around with stable diffusion and I manged to come up with a good approximation of our main character. I wanted an anime style rendition, but all my prompts gave me the knock off version of Sig from FMA. I'm picturing that this is William around the start of month number 2 in the Abyss. The total lack of sun is starting to take it's toll and he's realising just how screwed he is.
KleverKil'Vanya
Ortillery Operator
The 1st thing that popped into my head, Irish McIrishson of Clan Ireland.
Still its nicely done, also got that confused, the fuck is happening look in his eyes.
Still its nicely done, also got that confused, the fuck is happening look in his eyes.
- Location
- Dodging chaos dragons in Limbo
This is an interesting story, I'm looking forward to the next! These early chapters have been dragging on a bit, but the latest chapter made numerous strides towards rectifying that. Thanks for sharing!
Chapter 9: Landfall
A beautiful beach stretched out before him. White sand dotted here and there with tufts of grass. Feeling as though he was in a dream, William stepped off the water onto dry land. He made it a few staggering steps, then fell to his knees. Grasping handfuls of sand, he brought it to his nose and breathed in the scent.
A surge of emotion almost brought him to tears. After so long, he was finally back on solid ground again.
He was never going to take the shore for granted again. Ever.
After allowing himself a few moments to bask in the feeling, he pulled himself together, got back to his feet, and walked up the beach. Now that he was back on solid ground, the next step was finding civilization.
"I don't suppose that map of yours includes roads, does it?"
But Gremlin was gone, having retreated into the battleship while he wasn't looking.
"Fair enough."
Though he could pull his coordinates again and compare them to Gremlin's map for a precise location, that would probably mean more screaming. He didn't get it. Was there something wrong with the battleship? He tried his best to be civil, but everything he did just upset the creature to the point of tears.
He wished he could smooth things out before the inevitable occurred. The Japanese government would likely demand to know what he was doing with the mother of all artillery pieces strapped to his back. He didn't know what Japan's firearm policy was, but he doubted even the States would tolerate this.
Either way, he would likely be ordered to hand the thing over, and what happened to Gremlin after that would be out of his hands. Poor thing.
Putting those thoughts aside, he marched up the beach and found civilization much sooner than expected. It was a large parking lot, behind which was a road that snaked its way along the coast in both directions, partially hidden by dunes.
The lot itself was old and in disrepair. The asphalt was cracked and the lines were faded, coupled with a short row of dilapidated outhouses nestled in the corner. It looked like nobody had visited the place in years... for recreational purposes, anyway. A large, plywood sign had been propped up, reading;
The text being written in Japanese was no surprise, but the orientation of the sign was wrong. More than a little confused, William looked back at the ocean. There was nothing on the beach he could have missed or further out on the water. No, the sign was just directing its message at the empty ocean.
Weird. Then again, the sign was obviously military-made, and very hastily done, too. The plywood was an obvious tell, as were the bent nails and the fresh smell of spray paint. It spoke of troops who were given very hasty orders, not a lot of time, and officers riding their asses the whole way. More than likely they had put the sign up backwards in their rush.
…why exactly he felt nostalgic about that hypothetical scenario would forever remain a mystery.
Shrugging, he went around it to the road. Gremlin reappeared on his shoulder as he followed it south. The blank back of the sign caught her attention.
"Desu?"
"Don't worry about it," he shrugged. "It isn't meant for us, anyway."
Gremlin eyed him dubiously for a moment before sighing loudly and flopping down on his shoulder again.
William walked for ten minutes before suspicion started to set in. Not a single car had driven past since he set foot on shore. You would expect the coast to be swarming with tourists. Poisonous fish, maybe? It was an explanation for the sign, at least. Didn't Japan have that... what was it, Zebrafish? It was served somewhere in Asia, he was sure of it. Had those been washing up on shore?
That must suck for everyone involved. A buddy of his had been slapped in the face with a jellyfish once while they were in the Baltic Sea. Though it was one of the non-toxic varieties, his face had swollen up to such an extent that he was known as 'Quagmire' for the rest of the deployment. There were no more jellyfish fights after that.
Aside from toxic fish, there was probably a perfectly rational explanation for the lack of traffic. A fuel spill or something that happened offshore. And honestly, he didn't care. As long as it didn't revolve around supernatural realms and otherworldly powers, he was happy.
After a while the road turned, revealing a T-intersection that branched off deeper inland, winding its way through the trees and out of sight. Most importantly of all, there was a sign. Even better, there was a language he could understand! The Japanese characters were mercifully underlined with familiar, blocky English, graciously informing him that he would hit a place called Hachinohe in another fifty kilometers.
On the other hand, Rokkasho was a mere five klick away. Much better.
Then William saw the rest of the sign and did a hard doubletake. This portion was entirely in Japanese and dominated by a picture of... an anime girl? Her sadistic smile, shark-like teeth, and luminescent eyes gave her an uncanny appearance. Underneath that was a phone number.
Was it… a marketing stunt, maybe? Road sponsorship? Or some part of Japanese culture he wasn't aware of?
"More than half a century later and the bombs are still causing havoc," he muttered.
"Desu," Gremlin said softly, then looked up at him. "Desu?"
"Hell if I know," he shrugged, then turned down the road heading deeper inland. Rokkasho awaited! Just five more klicks to go and then...
He sighed.
This road, in contrast, was in much better condition, appearing to have been paved only a few months ago. Birds were chirping, the sun shining through the tree cover as William worked his way up and down rolling hills. It was peaceful, but with each step counting down towards civilization, the reality of his situation became harder to ignore until he couldn't take it anymore.
Passing over a small bridge, he leaned against the railing and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It didn't help that he could hear the wood creak as the weight of the battleship rested against it.
While he was free of the Abyss, knowing what awaited him back in Canada didn't make it any more appealing.
Technically, he was AWOL and had been for the last eight months. He wasn't going to be welcomed back with open arms, to say the least. Open handcuffs, more likely. Then a court martial... maybe even prison time. And that was even if he made it through the Japanese. As if being armed to the nines wasn't enough, he was doing so in uniform, flag and all. He was, quite literally, an international incident waiting to happen.
The obvious solution would be to ditch the battleship and take his chances. It would have been an excellent idea if only he knew how to remove the damn thing. However, the biggest factor remained that it was the only evidence he had linking his disappearance to the Abyss. Without it, he might as well just say aliens kidnapped him as that would be more plausible.
Like it or not, the battleship was stuck to him. Walking into a populated area was a good way to get himself shot by the police.
Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.
And there were still other issues to consider. He still felt hollow inside. The mass of the battleship rested on his back more prominently than ever, and yet it felt like he had lived with it his whole life. Whatever had been done to him... he didn't even want to think about it. The worst part was how silently it had happened. He didn't even realize it until he was halfway to Japan.
It fit the nature of the Abyss to a 'T'.
Always waiting… silently…
There were so many unknowns. Instead of a cell, he could be looking at a dissection table.
…fuck…
The brook gurgled past and he focused on that, letting the sound fill his ears. Gradually, his worries eased, replaced with another thought.
He could run away. He was in Japan, after all, why not use that to his advantage?
After considering the option briefly, he shoved it aside. He had lived in fear of a supernatural force for the last eight months; he wasn't going to live like a fugitive just because he couldn't face the future.
And that was just ignoring the logistics of trying to live in Japan while being as un-Japanese as you could get; beard and all.
He had no experience of living in another country, least of all in Asia where the alphabet wasn't even the same. He'd probably screw something up, get the police called in, they would find out he wasn't a citizen or whatever, and possibly lock him up. Or deport him. Or just call his government, which would bring him right back to where he started, minus the goodwill he might have gained by coming clean in the first place.
In the end, running solved nothing. It didn't solve the hollowness, and it wouldn't make his life easier. No, it was a mess best left avoided. He had tried his best to live an honest life, he wasn't about to change that now.
"Best choice is never the easiest one," he sighed and looked down at Gremlin. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry we didn't get off on the right foot. Language barrier and all that."
The little gremlin harrumphed at him. "Desu."
Snorting, he pushed off the railing and carried on his way.
The road was becoming more vertically challenged; winding its way around ever higher hills until another three-way intersection appeared. One carried on deeper into the hills, but the other was a straight shot up into what appeared to be a wide clearing. And from that direction, he could hear noises; the indistinct chatter of voices mixed with the occasional shout.
All the same, it took a good minute before he mustered the courage to proceed. There was no turning back.
As he crested the hill, he found himself on a plateau cut into the side of a ridge. What immediately grabbed his attention was the long, two-story building on the far side. Walkways extended from end to end, connecting a long line of equally spaced doors. It seemed to glow under the sun with a fresh coat of paint. There were a few smaller buildings but there was nothing notable about them.
Then the chatter of voices drew his attention downward.
He froze.
In front of the building was a sports field. And running around in groups, kicking balls and playing games... were children.
"...oh..."
Horrified, his eyes darted down. To the turrets. And their guns. Back up to the field. With all the children.
"...oh."
One group of girls clustered on the edge of the field closest to him. It looked like they were playing a game or something, a deck of cards was spread across the ground. And just his luck, the littlest one turned and caught sight of him. Her mouth dropped open.
"Oh fuck."
He had just wandered into a school with what appeared to be an entire gun battery strapped to his back. God help him, there was no way to explain this. This was the end for him. And Gremlin was giving him the most bewildered look yet. Thankfully, the 'what are we doing here' face transcended language.
"In my defense," William whispered, as the girl pointed him out to her friends. "I didn't know I was heading for a fucking school."
"Desu," Gremlin said sourly.
"Yes, I know I'm an idiot." He didn't need to know Japanese to figure that one out.
It was too late to run now; that would only make things worse. A national manhunt for the wild Canadian with guns was the last thing he needed at this point.
Word of his arrival spread like wildfire. Activities ground to a halt as hundreds of beady eyes locked onto him. Within a matter of seconds, the field went dead quiet.
William winced, waiting for the inevitable panic. But… it never happened. Despite the battleship... they weren't screaming. One by one the whispers started, growing into a dull roar as the kids began pointing. They seemed to be more… confused than anything else. And then the phones came out. William cringed, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Then to his complete shock, the girl who had first seen him got up and started running.
Towards him.
William froze up, trying not to make his situation worse as she stopped right in front of him. Her almond eyes were as wide as dinner plates, staring up at him with undisguised awe.
"Musashi-san desu ka?" she spoke. William wasn't sure if it was even a question or a statement.
"Uhh..." William glanced at Gremlin but found no help there. The little creature was watching him, expectantly. "Um... hi?"
The girl's face lit up. "Musashi-sama! Musashi-sama!" She looked back at her friends, repeating the line with greater enthusiasm.
As if a dam had burst, every student on the field surged his way, their murmuring growing into excited clamor. Every single one of them was grinning from ear to ear as they quickly surrounded him. There was so much talking; words he couldn't understand bombarded him on all sides. They were holding up pieces of paper and the occasional pen, their smiling faces practically radiant as…
...all of it fell away into white noise as William looked from one happy face to the next. They were people... real people.
Then he felt something take his hand.
It was the girl... holding his hand.
The look of excitement on her face was blinding as she babbled away in Japanese… though the sound seemed to be coming from miles away. The entire world seemed to drop away, and all that was left was that tiny spot of warmth hanging onto his palm. For all the satellites, blue sky, sand, and roads in the world, there had always been that lingering doubt that it was all just an illusion.
But that tiny hand in his own erased all doubt.
At that moment, the months of total isolation ended.
The world snapped back into focus as the chatter abruptly died down. The kids were staring at him again, and as William wondered why, he felt tears running down his cheeks. After so long convinced he was going to die there... alone...
It was overwhelming.
Even Gremlin was staring at him oddly as he wiped his eyes, struggling to compose himself. Thankfully, another shout rose above the crowd.
From the school building strode several adults, who could have only been the teachers, led by a suited man with a bald top. He fit the stereotypical Principal look. At his word, the students hurriedly backed away, forming a ring around William. As for the suit himself, he and his staff stood at the head with something akin to reverence in their expressions. Then, as one, the entire assembly bowed.
The Principal began a speech, a long draw of Japanese that ended with a flourish.
Surprisingly, it was Gremlin who took the lead, bowing in return. "Desu."
Many of the girls coed at her squeaky voice, but the Principal himself didn't react and stared at him expectantly. Maybe he couldn't understand it either. Weird. They were both speaking Japanese.
William took a breath, his throat still tight.
"You, uh..." his throat suddenly felt as dry as sand and he coughed. "Could you repeat that in English?"
A ripple went through the crowd and the murmuring began again. The Principal looked bewildered. "E-English?"
William sagged in relief. "Yeah. English, please. I'm... not exactly fluent in anim- Japanese... sorry. And, uh... I'm sorry about the guns. I can explain, but... uh..."
Finding the right words was more difficult than he thought, it had been so long since he spoke to another human being. Not to mention he was still struggling to understand how nobody was screaming yet.
They were giant guns for crying out loud!
To his credit, the Principal recovered quickly. "Musashi-sama, you do not need to apologize. We understand how confused you must be. We are honored to have you here with us."
Well, he was right about one thing; William was pretty well confused. What the hell was a Musashi?
Before he could raise the question, however, the school bell rang. At once, the students looked back to the building, then to the Principal, silently pleading with him. But the man would not be swayed. He said something in Japanese and more than a few moans of disappointment were heard as the student body dispersed, with the teachers herding them back to the building.
As they left, the same girl from before waved. "Saraba Musashi-sama!"
William waved back, awkwardly. Seriously, what was a Musashi? It must have meant 'soldier' or something. Before long it was just William and the Principal, standing alone in the yard.
"You're taking this... better than I expected," William said slowly.
The Principal beamed, either missing the point entirely or willfully blind to the guns that had invaded his campus. "It is an honor to meet a Kanmusu face to face. You honor us with your presence here."
Okay, now William was even more confused than ever. Was this a part of Japanese culture he had blundered into? Like the traffic sign? What was a Musashi and how did it relate to a Kanmusu? But he just couldn't get over how the guy hadn't even blinked twice at the guns! He just stood there, beaming his head off, as if meeting a grunt that had washed up on shore was the pride of his whole year!
William felt his shoulders sag. He was... too emotionally drained for this.
"Okay... well, first of all, I'm sorry to intrude, but is there any way I can get in touch with the authorities?"
If it was possible, the principle beamed even wider. "Of course. The Navy has already been informed and are on their way."
"T-The Navy?"
The fuck did the Navy have to do with all this?! But... at the same time, it sort of worked? He still had the battleship... technically, but how the hell did the guy even make the connection? Regardless, the Navy was still a government entity, which would do the trick… but when the hell did calling the Navy supersede calling the police?
William sighed, deeply. He thought he left all the unanswerable questions behind in the Abyss.
"You know what, the navy works too. Thanks."
The man nodded, eagerly, then motioned him towards the school. "Come, we have tea while we wait."
"Yeah, tea... tea sounds good." Following the Principal, it suddenly occurred to William how small the man was. Last he'd checked, he had clocked in at just over six feet three inches, but the Principal barely came up to his chest. And the man was already the tallest of his staff.
Japanese people were tiny.
As they approached the building, they passed a shrine-like structure that had escaped William's notice before. A small obelisk or memorial was set atop a dais, with countless lines of Japanese craved into its surface. Resting before it were a few empty bowls, like an offering. And ringing the display was an array of carefully tended flower beds, blossoming with a rainbow of reds, blues, and purples, filling the air with a lovely fragrance.
The smell alone brought him back years... His mom had flower beds. Once. Just a few she had set apart from all the potatoes and other vegetables that year. She wanted poppies, but tending for them had been a nightmare. In hindsight, those flowers endured a lot. Weeds, drought, and chickens had eventually killed them off.
But if they had survived and thrived, he imagined this was how they would have looked. How proud she would have been.
God, the last time he had seen his mother had been... almost a year ago. A few months before the Abyss had spirited him away, if not longer. She would have loved to see this place; flowers always made her smile.
Would they even let him see his family again? Talk to them?
The fragrance filled his nostrils, reminding him of home...
"Desu?"
William blinked and snapped out of his trance. Both Gremlin and the Principal were looking at him with concern, and he wondered how long he had spaced out.
"Sorry," he murmured, his gait becoming more of a stagger as he followed the Principal. The man was still babbling away, but it was hazy and indistinct. All William could think of was the prairies; the rolling hills, and far away in the west were the mountains presiding over all.
Home.
William stopped abruptly, then slowly sat on the grass. The battleship clattered as it came to rest on the ground, propping up his back. With trembling hands, he undid his helmet and let it drop between his legs. His head lulling back, he stared up into the blue sky he thought he'd never see again. His heart raced so fast it felt like a constant thrum in his chest.
He was just... so tired.
"Musashi-sama, are... are you well?"
Still gazing upward, William nodded. "...I'm fine."
There was a long pause where he made no effort to get up. The Principal coughed. "I will bring the tea, then. Excuse me."
He hurried off, leaving William alone. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was Home. The rustle of wind in the grass, the dust from the roads...
...and then Gremlin was screaming in his ear again, gesturing wildly at the rig before fixing him with a glare that could curdle milk. At any other time, he would have found it hilarious, but right then...
"I wanna go home, Gremlin," he whispered, and the creature's face lost some of its heat at his tone. "I thought I'd never see it again... and now I don't think I ever will."
She visibly hesitated, then puffed up her chest and jabbed a stub right in his face, beginning another rant that ended in another imperious look that wavered slightly.
"Still don't speak Japanese, my friend."
Gremlin huffed, before turning and vanishing into... whatever hidden hatch there was.
Before long, the Principal returned with two steaming cups. Though William accepted the beverage, he couldn't bring himself to try it. All he'd had to drink in the Abyss was tea and water. The battleship had been pretty well stocked. Though he wasn't as sick of it as pineapple, he just... didn't want to think about the Abyss anymore.
Though the Principal tried to reignite the conversation, William couldn't find it in himself to respond either. He just wanted to go home, and trying to explain why you were potentially a wanted fugitive by your government was a conversation he was putting off for as long as possible.
He would save that for when the Navy arrived. The people who could actually do something about it.
In the meantime, he just wanted to watch the sky. The clouds. He never realized how much he'd missed them.
The tea had gone cold by the time a navy blue truck rolled into the parking lot. The Principal hurried over and began talking with the two uniformed men who stepped out. Their blue digital camouflage stuck out like a sore thumb against the green woods.
William eyed them warily for a moment, before languidly rising to his feet, the contraption groaning slightly as it was lifted off the ground.
The two men froze like deer in headlights, their eyes widening as he approached. One was clearly a non-com; a private, or the Japanese equivalent, if William was reading the single chevron correctly. Meanwhile the other boasted a single gold bar, and his bearing practically screamed 'officer.' Although it wavered slightly, as William towered over him.
He wasn't trying to intimate anyone, it wasn't exactly his fault he was this big. Or that the Japanese were so small to begin with.
After a long moment, the officer recovered, cleared his throat, and spoke... in yet more Japanese. Now that the shock had worn off the guy didn't look too impressed. The non-com on the other hand looked completely bewildered.
William took a deep breath.
This was it. No turning back now.
"Do you speak English?"
The officer appeared to be even more perplexed than the Principal. He looked back at his non-com, but he could only shrug. Yes, because everyone was surprised when the tourist didn't speak Japanese.
"Uhm... Yes?" The officer finally said.
With that affirmation, William looked down at the Principal. "Thank you for everything you've done, but I need to speak to these men alone."
The suited man looked up at him for a long moment, then smiled hesitantly. "I hope you get well soon, Musashi-sama. You do not look well."
With that parting statement, the man hurried back to his school and William turned his attention back to the officer.
Well... time to rip off the bandaid. "My name... is Corporal William A. Morgan, of the Canadian Armed Forces. I would... politely request that you contact my government and tell them I'm here."
William had expected some confusion, but the officer was so lost you might as well have told him Japan had won the war. He spared another glance at his underling, who appeared just as helpless.
"Listen, uh..." William tried again, glancing at the man's name tag. Again, the language barrier reared its ugly head. "...sir. I just need to get in contact with the Canadian Embassy. That's it."
Now the man looked dazed. "Uhm...so you... are not Musashi?"
William gave him a flat look. "I just told you my name, didn't I? Who or what is a Musashi?"
That seemed to break the officer. His mouth opened and closed silently, trying to find words. Ultimately, the best he could do was gesture weakly at the truck. "Would you be opposed to... come and speak with my superiors?"
Ah yes, the old game of hot potato. Who's problem was he going to end up being? Clearly, the lieutenant wanted nothing to do with him. William sighed. He couldn't exactly blame the man. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
Without waiting for an invitation he trudged over to the truck and immediately encountered a problem. Namely, the hunk of metal strapped to his back prevented him from climbing into the back seat.
There didn't appear to be a clip or latch in the waistband, and he couldn't twist far enough to see if the contraption was detachable. Sighing again, William turned to the wide-eyed Private. "You wouldn't happen to know how to remove this, would you?"
"G-Gomen'nasai, watashi wa eigo ga hanasemasen." the non-com replied. He turned to his Lieutenant. "Sensei, kare ga nani o itte iru no ka wakarimasen!"
"Mō sono kosuchūmu o sutero to kare ni tsutaete kudasai!" The officer called back, climbing into the driver seat. "Kusokanada hito..."
"Demo eigogawakarimasen!"
"Nani?!"
"You know what" William grunted, as it appeared the two were about to argue. "I'll just get in the back."
Before they could stop him, he jumped into the truck bed. The suspension creaked ominously as he settled down. The rig was taking up a ton of space, leaving him curled up awkwardly against the tailgate. The booms were jutting out over the side and he had to sit carefully to avoid smashing out the rear window.
At least the Abyss' physics-defying bullshit kept the suspension from shattering under the rig's weight. And his spine. And knees.
The Private gaped at him for a moment before a shout from the Lieutenant made him crawl into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. There was a long pause before the engine finally roared to life, and they pulled out the school. But the journey was much shorter than William expected.
At the three-way intersection just below the school, the truck turned onto the third exit, but after only a few kilometers began to slow. With the rig blocking his view forward, the scenery abruptly transitioned from forest to fenced-off yards and bare wood houses. He didn't know how else to describe it, but everything looked stereotypically Japanese. This must be Rokkasho, then.
As the truck pulled up to a red light, William came level with an old woman watering some flower beds. She took one look at him and her mouth dropped open. William barely had time to nod in greeting before the truck was off again. But as they drove away, the old woman stepped onto the sidewalk to watch them go in complete bewilderment.
Like the Principal, she didn't seem to have a problem with the battleship either.
Normally, that would have been a good thing. The last thing he intended was to start a panic, but something about the whole situation was off.
The feeling persisted as they stopped at another light, bringing him level with a group of teenagers in school uniforms about to cross the street. They immediately forgot about it as they caught sight of him, staring in open shock. But again, there was no panic. A whole battery of guns on display; a contraption straight from the Abyss was right in front of them and these high school girls barely batted an eye.
Something was wrong. The same thing happened wherever they went; people stared, and some smiled and waved, but never was there any fear. And just when it couldn't get any weirder, a thought came to mind.
The students at the school, and even the Principal, had seen Gremlin. They didn't even bat an eye at the otherworldly creature.
"Ah fuck..." he groaned, pulling his knees tight to his chest to keep his composure. Forget the civilians, he was the one trying to keep his nerve.
No one was panicking because they knew exactly what the battleship was! If they recognized it, that meant the Abyss had been active on Earth in his absence. It was the only possible explanation.
"Fuuuuuck..." He thought he'd left it behind, what the hell was going on? Could he even trust the Japanese now? What the hell could he have missed in those eight months?
The truck turned sharply into a fenced-off compound, the gate closing automatically behind it. The camp was a place that, up until now, had only existed purely in imagination: A brand spanking new military base. Or an outpost, rather. But that didn't change the fact that none of the buildings looked older than a decade. A motor pool sat next to a multi-story building that had bundles of wires leading to a large antenna in the corner of the compound; most likely the HQ. Neat rows of shacks ringed the perimeter, surrounding a parade square and what was unmistakably a mess hall. And on a hill, presiding over it all was a towering concrete structure, upon which spun the largest radar array he had ever seen.
But even that couldn't draw his eye away from the multiple anti-aircraft batteries scattered around. He had only been gone eight months, what the hell happened? Japan looked ready to go to war! Again.
William climbed out of the truck the moment it stopped, the battleship clanking as he hit the ground and took in his surroundings warily. Nothing about this felt right anymore.
There were dozens of personnel scattered about and more were exiting the various shacks and buildings until he was surrounded. Unlike the students, though, none of their gazes held any sort of warmth. They all muttered to each other, the words 'Musashi' and 'Baka' featured predominantly.
The lieutenant had gotten out and was motioning him to follow, leading him to the front steps of the HQ. As they arrived, an older man stepped out to meet them. Unlike the others, he was in full dress uniform, with a shaved head and small, circular spectacles. There were three gold bars on his collar, so he was pretty high up on the chain, most likely the camp CO.
Unlike the rest of his men, the commanding officer's expression was inscrutable. Finally, he spoke. "I have been told you speak exclusively English."
That was an odd question. Nonetheless, William nodded. "Yes sir."
The CO seemed to be choosing his words with care. "You do not understand Japanese?"
"No." Obviously not.
A murmur went through the assembled group, and even the CO seemed a little confused. But before another line of questions could be raised, William took the initiative. "Sir, may I speak to you privately? It's very important."
"If it is an explanation for this stunt, I believe we are all entitled to hear it," the man shot back coldly.
"Stunt?"
At that, the officer scowled. "Pretending to be a Kanmusu at this time is in very poor taste, let alone one who hasn't returned yet."
"What? But I'm not a..." William gave up with a groan, running a hand down his face. Despite his building frustration, he forced his voice to stay level. "Look, am I able to get in touch with the Canadian embassy or not? I'm not a can-mu-so, or whatever it is. I just-"
"Then remove it." The officer ordered, jutting his chin at the battleship. "If you are honest then you will not disrespect our protectors any longer. Remove it. Now."
"I would if I could, believe me!"
The man only scowled. Against his better judgment, William scowled back. It wasn't his fault he was stuck with this thing and he wouldn't be treated like a criminal for it! However, he reminded himself that this wasn't his country, he was already in deep shit, and drawing it out wouldn't do him any good.
"Sir, I'll be completely honest with you... I've been AWOL for the last eight months. I went missing on exercise in Gagetown New Brunswick and ended up floating in a godforsaken pit, went through a fucking Maelstrom, then was spat out in the Pacific with this thing stuck to my back and a gremlin screaming in my ear. As unbelievable as that sounds, sir, I can promise you it's the truth."
Dead silence.
"If nothing else can you just call the CAF? They can at least confirm the first part."
For a long moment, only a gentle breeze could be heard. Then;
"A gremlin?" the officer asked, flatly.
William sagged. Why was that the thing he focused on?
"Yeah, a gremlin. One sec." He thumped a turret with a fist. The entire battleship shook, he could feel the vibrations run down his spine. Not to mention the clang made everyone jump. "Hey, Gremlin? I need ya out here."
Gremlin appeared a moment later, storming onto his shoulder as mad as a pitbull, stubs flailing and howling at the top of her lungs. However, she spluttered to a halt as she saw the CO.
"As you can see," William said, gesturing, "it's a gremlin."
That earned him a tiny slap to the chin before Gremlin gave the man a textbook salute.
The compound went oddly quiet. Everyone was staring at the little creature, gobsmacked. The officer in particular appeared torn between disbelief and pure denial. Then he gathered himself and saluted the creature back. "Tsudzukeru."
Gremlin nodded respectfully, then reached over and plucked another hair out of William's beard.
"Ow! Stop that!"
"Desu!" She pointed to the thumped turret. "Desu!!"
"It's solid steel, I'm sure it's fine!" Exasperated, William looked to the officer. "If nothing else, please tell me you understand this thing. It's been screaming at me all day!"
The crowd suddenly returned to life; whispers flying everywhere as the men and women pointed at Gremlin, growing louder until the officer silenced them with a raised hand. He looked downright shaken. "M... Musashi?"
For fucks sake!
William took a deep breath, held it, before letting it out slowly. "I am not this Musashi, I am not a Kanmusu, I am not trying to impersonate anyone! My name is Cpl William A. Morgan and I'm just trying to get home. That's it."
There was a very long pause. None of the Japanese seemed to know how to take this. Finally, the officer gave an order in his native tongue. The crowd hesitated, but a harsh word sent them scurrying away. When they were alone, the officer continued down the steps to stand before William directly. For such a powerful presence he barely came up to William's chest.
His gaze never left Gremlin, and the little creature matched his look with impunity. "This is... unprecedented." His voice was much softer now.
"Tell me about it."
His gaze snapped up to William's face, and surprisingly he held out a hand. "I am Commander Gengyo, commanding officer of the New Rokkasho Radar Installation number 17. I apologize, but... nothing like this has happened before."
"I understand, yeah... I'd freak out over the big man with guns too. Look, I'm sorry I wandered onto that school, I didn't know where I was going. It's... probably hit the internet by now." William sighed, whatever relief he felt was replaced by defeat. "This is going to be an international incident, isn't it?"
Gengyo's eyes flicked to Gremlin. "I... am afraid so."
Grimacing, William nodded. He'd expected as much. Now it was all a matter of finding out how deep in the shit he was. At least the hard part was over and done with, now he just had to ride out the aftermath.
"Unfortunately, I do not have the authority to contact your- the Canadian Embassy about this matter. Again, this is an unprecedented development."
William nodded again in understanding and muttered to himself. "...You can thank the Abyss for that..."
"Among other things," Gengyo returned, dryly, turning away and completely missing William's askanced look. "Please wait here, I will contact my superiors."
As the CO entered his HQ, William swiveled around and outright staggered onto the lawn. His knees felt weak as he fell back on his butt, rattling the battleship again and prompting another rant from Gremlin. Her shrieks went in one ear and out the other as the revelation of what he'd just heard dawned on him.
"...fuck..."
They knew about the Abyss.
And not just their military; the entire nation knew! They didn't panic at his guns, they seemed to know what Gremlin was, and Gengyo's comment was the last nail in the proverbial coffin.
They fucking knew!
While that did inspire a certain amount of dread, he felt... betrayed. If they knew about the Abyss why had no one come looking for him? He was going out on a limb here, but if his disappearance had opened the world's eyes to this supernatural realm, why had they left him there? A lot could happen in eight months and he'd been out of touch with the world that entire time; anything was possible.
Or… was it just the Japanese that knew?
But more than anything, it left him feeling drained. He'd been on a rollercoaster of emotion for months; coming to terms with his death only to survive through means he didn't understand. He just didn't want to think about it anymore. Only the distant hope of seeing home again was keeping him going now. Everything else could take a hike.
The Japanese seemed to what they were doing… he'd wait out for more info.
Leaning back, he tipped his helmet over his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.
Maybe when he woke up things would make more sense.
Gengyo sat at his desk, hands clasped before him as he regarded the problem at hand. This... William. The battleship was either deeply confused or something else was at work, and then there were the Kanmusu's parting words.
The Abyss.
As far as he was aware, Kanmusu emerged with no knowledge of it, needing to be introduced to the new world and the war they were called to serve in. The fact that Musashi knew was deeply concerning.
That the battleship believed itself to be Canadian, even more so.
And a man to boot.
In the presence of his staff, however, he resisted the urge to give in to his frustration. A centered mind was required to navigate this... unusual situation.
Gengyo deeply respected the Kanmusu; everyone did. But he was still an old man, even before the war began. If he could do his duty without seeing another day of bloodshed, he would die a happy man. Which ultimately led to accepting a position as far away from the Kanmusu Corp as possible. They were still war machines; death followed wherever they went.
Gently, he pulled himself back to the present. He could hardly blame the Kanmusu, especially Kongou for what happened that day, but the war left scars on them all. His children always said he was different after his wife died.
However, he couldn't allow his bias to cloud his judgment, no matter how much he wished the Ship Spirit had never come to New Rokkasho. They were interesting spirits, not necessarily fortunate ones. They existed to fight a war humans could hardly comprehend. However beautiful they appeared, they were still engines of war, and you couldn't change what they represented.
Although, Musashi was on the far end of the spectrum when it came to beauty.
With a calming exhale, he allowed his attention to flow back into the conversation filling his office. Or rather, the lack thereof. The four subordinates gathered before his desk were just as confused as he was.
Finally, Gengyo spoke.
"Musashi has returned to us, however confused he might be." He said the words slowly, watching and engaging their reactions. "If there are any doubts as to this, I will hear them now."
Almost immediately, Lieutenant Tetsu stepped forward. "Sir, this must be a trick! No shipgirl has ever come back... well, like this!"
"You're just upset the first one you've ever met didn't have breasts the size of your head," Lieutenant Keita snarked.
"I am not-!"
"Enough." A single word brought them to a screeching halt. When the room had calmed, Gengyo motioned to Tetsu. "Your reasoning?"
"I... well, look at the obvious," he spluttered, blushing. "That's as far from a shipgirl as you can get! None of them have ever come back as men, it's impossible. It goes against their nature."
Keita coughed, a sound that sounded suspiciously like 'breasts.'
"Plus, she doesn't understand a word of Japanese." Tetsu continued. "How can a Japanese battleship not know her native tongue? Either this is an Abyssal trick or it is a prank in very poor taste!"
Clearly, the Lieutenant was in denial about the whole thing.
"But you saw the faerie," Lieutenant Yura spoke up. A fresh transfer from Yokosuka, she had the most experience with the Kanmusu between the three junior officers. "You can't fake that."
"Plus if it was an Abyssal we'd be long dead," Petty Officer Naomichi, ever the voice of reason, intoned. He shared a knowing glance with Gengyo.
"But-"
A raised hand was all it took for Gengyo to silence the room. "The Petty Officer is correct. If there is one thing the war has taught us, the Abyssals are nothing but honest with their intentions."
"Sir," Tetsu protested. "She... he has a Canadian flag on his shoulder! He's supposed to be a Japanese battleship! It's impossible!"
"I've seen it," Gengyo confirmed, staring the young man down until he was quiet. "And his tale is equally hard to believe. However, whether he is genuine is not our decision to make. Admiral Goto will make the final call. Moreover, I will not have any of you spreading dissent until this matter is resolved. Public perception is precarious enough with him wandering into a school and I will not have my staff make things worse by spreading rumors. Understood?"
There was a chorus of affirmation from them all.
"Good. The search parties from Yokosuka are coming to collect him. Hopefully, they will have more insight into the topic. I will meet them at the train station with Musashi personally. In the meantime..."
He raised his voice slightly, not enough to yell, but enough to let them know he considered the topic closed.
"...Lieutenant Yura, Ops has reported issues with the radar mast, what have you found?"
She snapped to attention. "Hai. The returning signals haven't been consistent with the amount of power the array is using. We've been conducting inspections, but we can't find anything wrong internally. I was just about to do a full report before... uhm, Musashi arrived."
Gengyo nodded and turned his attention to Keita. Their little station had a mixed bag of positions. While Yura's group were the engineers responsible for their mast's maintenance, all data gathered was fed into Keita's specialized unit.
"Do you have any insight into this?"
In response, Keita pulled out his phone and set it on the desk. In his spare time, he had written a program that streamed the live radar data to his phone. At least, that was how he described it. When Gengyo had asked to see the code, it made about as much sense to him as that damn hentai the man adored.
But it was still a breach of security, and the Lieutenant needed another reminder of that if he was brandishing it around so brazenly.
Walking over to the map of the Pacific Gengyo kept on the wall, Keita pointed. "We should be seeing Trans-Pacific Trade Passage. A Russian convoy left port two days ago on route to America. We should have them on the scopes, but we don't."
He went back to his phone and pointed out a few tiny symbols. "They should be about... here, right in our arcs, but we aren't getting any returning signals. There's no sign of bad weather to interfere, so my bet is a loss of power to the array. While the teams were out hunting for our wayward ship, I took the liberty of running a few tests. Yesterday we could detect objects two hundred kilometers out. Today, less than twenty."
Gengyo's eyes widened and his blood ran cold. Only twenty?
Keita rose and shrugged. "My best guess is power loss, I can't think of anything else that would cause a gradual loss of signal."
"I've double-checked everything," Yura protested. "The mast-"
"This is unacceptable!" Gengyo said, cutting her off. "We are the eyes of Japan, her first line of defense! Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"
Keita opened his mouth, but Gengyo cut him off with a slash of his hand. "No, it doesn't matter. I will not be blinded! You two, fix this at once, I do not want to see you again until you do! Lieutenant Tetsu, they are your superiors now; you and yours will assist them with whatever they need. Understood?"
The three snapped to attention. "Hai!"
"Go."
The three rushed out, leaving Gengyo alone with his XO
"Twenty kilometers," Gengyo spat, releasing a bit of his pent-up anger. "I should send them all back to Yokosuka with their careers in tatters! Twenty kilometers!"
"I can see why they didn't say anything," Naomichi said, drily.
Opening his laptop, Gengyo made a note. "And Lieutenant Keita... the academy can have him back. I don't care if he's a prodigy or not, forgoing security, and the absolute gall! Twenty kilometers, and he said it like it was nothing! Twenty is all an Abyssal needs to wreak havoc. Is he that stupid?"
"You have to wonder what they're teaching at the academy these days."
"Obviously not enough!" Note complete, Gengyo shut his laptop with a huff. "If they spent half as much time studying as they did ogling Kanmusu we wouldn't have this problem. Twenty kilometers, dear god!"
"Hano," Naomichi said gently. "They made a mistake, now move on."
Gengyo opened his mouth, then looked down and realized his hands were trembling.
Twenty kilometers...
He forced himself to calm down, clasping his hands together until the shaking stopped. Deep breaths, one after the other.
Twenty was all they needed. Those young fools didn't understand what they were fighting. He certainly hadn't... not until he was close enough to look an Abyssal in the eye. You never forgot that malevolent gaze.
Finally, when his racing heart had settled, he met Naomichi's gaze.
"We're not keeping Keita. This is the last straw."
The Petty Officer nodded. "Agreed." There was a pause. "And... I have to ask, what about Musashi?"
Gengyo gave a long sigh. "I am eternally grateful he is not my problem. Yokosuka will have to figure out what to do with Mr Morgan."
The XO's brow rose. "So you believe him?"
In response, Gengyo opened his laptop again. He had been dubious at first, and more than willing to simply pass the problem onto the Kanmusu retrieval team, but the mystery was too compelling, even to his withered sense of adventure. It hadn't been much, just a simple online search for this 'Cpl William A Morgan' to satisfy his curiosity.
He got more than he bargained for; an article, with an obituary published a week later. The headline was undeniable. 'Canadian Armed Forces Member Declared Missing on Exercise.'
"Oh my god," Naomichi breathed, staring at the included photo. Gengyo nodded in agreement.
Musashi's beard was ragged, his hair unkempt, and his face pale and drawn, but he was a dead match to the man smiling out from the article's picture. It certainly lined up with the first half of Mususahi's story, if only partially. His time frame was way off.
"I... don't believe it..."
"We are living in interesting times," Gengyo agreed.
Naomichi grinned ruefully. "Well... I am content to let Yokosuka handle this."
"Agreed."
"Why didn't you get his autograph?" Ogmai whined.
Kuwahara rolled his eyes. His little sister's petulance had been funny at first, ship-girl fanatic as she was, but now it was getting annoying. School had only been out for ten minutes!
"Kuuuuwahara, why?"
"Ogmai, everyone was asking for his autograph. He didn't sign anything!"
"Then why didn't you ask harder?"
He sighed, kicking a rock down the earthen trail. Little sisters..."If you wanted to see him so bad then why did you go and get in trouble?"
"I didn't know he was coming," she moaned. "You know shipgirls never come this far north."
"Well, he's not exactly a shipgirl."
"I know! He's the very first shipboy! The very first ship-boy landed in Rokkasho and I missed it!" She sniffed. "Do you think this means more are coming?"
He shrugged, now completely enthralled with keeping the rock rolling.
"What did he look like? Was his rigging the same as Yamato's?" She gasped, struck with an idea, her melancholy completely forgotten. "Do you think Yamato knows she has a brother and not a sister?" There was another gasp. "Do you think Kongou will try to seduce him with her Burning Love?! Would Yamato like that? She's so sweet and kind!"
He grunted, the rock kicking continued unabated.
"Kuwahara, will they fall in love? This means ship-girls can finally get married!"
Love?
The pebble jumped as he lost focus and he quickly had to knock it back onto the trail. He shuddered. He couldn't imagine anyone falling in love with Musashi of all people.
Not with that face...
"Was it true that he was crying?" Ogmai asked, suddenly quiet. "Chikae-chan said that he looked sad. Very sad."
"That's one way to put it..."
In truth, it had been hard to place any emotion past that ugly beard. Why would a Japanese battleship have a beard like a Western foreigner?
But Ogmai was right about one thing; he was the first shipboy.
However, once the novelty wore off you were left with an entirely different impression. Musashi was nothing like a shipgirl, the obvious notwithstanding. He was a giant; taller even than Principle Hisato. With scruffy hair that poked out from under his helmet, that awful beard, and pale skin. But while Yamato's fair tone held a radiant beauty, Musashi just looked ill, like he hadn't seen the sun in years.
And his eyes...
Kuwahara shuddered.
There was too much white around those blood-red irises, like Musashi's eyes had been stretched into a perpetual expression of dread. Even when he tried to smile, those awful eyes remained.
"...Kuwahara...?"
A sudden grip around his arm stopped Kuwahara short. The pebble kept bouncing down the trail, rolling between the feet of a pale woman standing in their way. Her shoulder-length black hair obscured the top half of her face, save for a sharp pair of glasses resting atop her nose.
Her mouth was visible, and as she saw them through her ebony locks, the woman broke into what would have been a gentle smile, if not for the teeth.
"Hmm... evidently my calculations were correct," she said, her sensual voice reverberating through the air. "Judging from the time, you are returning home from school. Correct?"
"Kuwahara?..." Ogmai whimpered, shrinking back and using his body as a shield.
Kuwahara wished he could do the same. His legs felt weak. There was something eerily familiar about the woman; a sort of family resemblance, though he was too terrified to remember where he'd seen it. A malevolent aura surrounded her, almost radiating from her skin... Skin that was as pale as a corpse.
She took a single step forward, the pebble shattering under her shoe. The siblings scrambled to take three steps back.
"Which indicates the work day is over and everyone will congregate in their homes, ripe for the taking. Oh, don't be afraid," she whispered, voice as smooth as silk. "I belong here, you know. This is my home just as it was yours."
She looked up, her hair parting around two small horns on her forehead. On her brow was a red and brown mark that arched around her eyes like the tips of a mountain. Eyes that glowed a malevolent blue as she sighed in contentment.
Suddenly, the resemblance clicked. Moreover, with Ogmai following ship-girls religiously… hadn't the Kongous been waiting for their fourth sister to return?
Kuwahara shook his head, rendered mute with horror. His sister's grip on his leg was becoming painful as the battleship Kirishima stalked closer.
"Ye~es," the Abyssal breathed. "I'm sure my dearest Onee-sama will be delighted to see me again."
Then she paused, taking in the siblings as if for the first time. "Why are you still here?"
As Kuwahara stammered, the Abyssal snapped her fingers. The trees behind the siblings exploded, thick trunks cracking into splinters as a monstrous form lunged out. Kuwahara and Ogmai didn't even have time to scream as the colossal jaws closed on them both with a sickening crack.
Kirishima giggled as she petted the bow of her rigging, still chewing its victims down to paste. Its timing needed improvement, but that was for a later date. After all, the time for subtlety had long since passed.
With lavish grace, she bounded atop her rigging's torpedo-like head and raised her hands to the sky. She had trained long and hard for this moment; hiding her power through sheer will alone. And now, years of plotting, study, careful negotiations, and bloodshed had led to this moment.
She had finally returned home.
Thunder boomed in the sky, the clouds swirling and darkening above her.
"The rising sun has lost its light," she hissed to the sky.
The woods cracked and shattered as her destroyers emerged and formed a perimeter, shouldering the woods into splinters. Her Cruisers and Carriers gathered around her, watching. Most were used to walking on dry land, but their recent addition, one of the Wo-Class, looked uneasy at being even this minuscule distance from the ocean.
Her unmarked bridge gazed up at the Princess with a mixture of uncertainty and awe, shadows dancing across her face as the clouds thickened.
"Defeat and fear have culled a once proud nation! Its warriors condemned to the cold embrace of the Abyss. They spat on our sacrifice and bent the knee to our hated enemy! I, Kirishima, Daughter of the Abyss, denounce my oaths to this nation, just as it denounced me!"
The clouds turned black. Lightning flashed as the full power of the Princess was revealed. And she smiled.
"Let this be the first memory of Rokkasho. The anguish of ancient sins will form the foundation, the ruins of the present will craft the masonry, the blood of the guilty shall mix the mortar and their fear will become the clarion call for a new Installation! Rokkasho will be born anew this day!"
With regal authority, she pointed west. Towards Rokkasho. To the destroyers, she gave her commands.
"Cut off their escape. Kill everyone you find."
With a howl of bloodlust, the Destroyers bounded off. Oh how Kirishima longed to join them, but there was a much more important task at hand.
"Can you feel it?"
The unmarked Wo flinched as she was addressed. Her two fellow carriers shrank back as Kirishima descended from her rigging.
"M-My Princess?"
"The land. The earth." She alighted next to her rigging's maw, the teeth still dripping with gore. "Can you feel it? The solid ground beneath your keel?"
The Wo nodded hesitantly, uncertainty written across her face. Clearly, the carrier had never set foot on dry land before, and yet she had volunteered willingly for her cause. The possible prestige for helping to achieve a goal such as theirs wasn't enough to tempt even the most ambitious of carriers, the risk was far too great.
And yet, this one had followed them here. That spoke of something deeper than pride; a fear the carrier was trying to hide. A truth that the Wo-class had been forced to face, and found the same answer Kirishima had.
"It comforts you, doesn't it," she said softly, almost a whisper.
The Wo nodded again, this time more certain of herself.
Taking the carrier's answer for what it was, the Princess dipped her hands into the fountain of red falling from her rigging's maw. "As it does for all of us who have seen the truth." With her hands soaked, she reached down and plucked up a handful of dirt, kneading the two ingredients into a paste.
And before the entirety of the Wo's new fleet, she was marked with the Unsinkable Mountain.
Amidst the treacherous seas, there never once was a vessel that sank on dry land. And in these uncertain times, the Wo, like the rest of them, chose to put her faith in that indomitable strength.
With the formalities completed, Kirishima rose to her full height, taking in her fleet. "You all have your tasks. Prepare this place for our new sister."
'And if Onee-sama attempts to stop me,' Kirishima's broad smile became strained. 'Then I will send her to the Abyss... just like the rest.'
"Go! Rokkasho awaits!"
Kuwahara and Ogmai should have been home by now. Onishi watched the growing storm with worry. She trusted her children not to get lost, but in a storm like this, she was afraid they would catch their death of cold.
Sudden storms were far from unheard of, but this was unusual. The weather report had said nothing about this.
Maybe her husband was right? They should have moved into the town. But... no. The little acreage was perfect. So what if they lived a few kilometers out of town; a little walking never hurt anyone.
Lightning flashed.
She hoped.
She said a quick prayer for their safe return and put some water on for tea. Her children would appreciate a warm drink after braving the cold. She was about to return to the dishes when something outside caught her eye.
A car was coming up the lane, bouncing up and down like it was driving through a field of potholes, but their lane was...
...it was the wrong shape for a car. As it drew closer, Onishi realized the object was crawling forward on a pair of fins like a demented seal. And as its torpedo-shaped body turned to face her, she realized exactly what it was.
Terror gripped her and she screamed. The Abyssal roared back; its jaw full of human teeth opening wide and a cannon pushed out like a tongue.
There was a boom and a flash.
William's eyes snapped open. The sky above was black with thunderheads, but that sound? That... wasn't thunder.
The Japanese servicemen were rushing into the yard, staring up into the sky, apparently caught off guard by the storm as well.
And there was the sound again. A deep, cracking boom.
William jumped to his feet.
That wasn't thunder. He'd know the sound of artillery anywhere.
Immediately, the compound erupted into motion. Men were running for their stations in a frenzy, shouting in Japanese. But they were all silenced as one voice roared above them all.
"Arāmu wa arimasen!"
Commander Gengyo stormed out of the HQ, letting out another shout that was almost overpowered by a third boom echoing across land.
"Arāmu wa arimasen! Sō sureba, karera wa bīkon no yō ni watashitachi ni hikiyose rarerudeshou!"
The yard froze. With all eyes fixed on him, the officer took a moment to collect himself, then spared a brief look to the east, where the eye of the storm hung. There was a brief look of uncertainty before his stoicism slipped back into place.
"Watashitachi ni wa karera o kōgeki suru shudan ga nai tame, hinan ga yūsen sa remasu. Oka o kayotte shin'nyū dekiru michi wa kagira rete imasu. Watashitachiha hitobito o korera no pointo kara tetsudō-eki ni mukete atsumemasu! Karera o soko kara hinan sa semasu!"
He began issuing orders, firing off Japanese so fast he was like a machine gun.
Instantly, the men jumped into action. They ran for the motor pool, jumping into trucks and peeling off into town. Those who couldn't catch a ride simply sprinted out the gate, shouting at the top of their lungs. People were already poking their heads out of doors and windows, or pausing on the sidewalk at the distant artillery fire. Whatever the soldiers were shouting got them fired up.
A small group of servicemen ran for a building in the compound and practically tore the door off getting inside. They emerged with armfuls of RPG7s and bandoleers of spare rockets. One was even hefting a familiar tube; an 84mm recoilless rifle.
For a moment, all William could do was watch, bewildered. Forget the frying pan into the fire analogy, he wasn't even in the campsite. What the fuck was going on?!
They were gearing up for war, but who the hell were they fighting? Had the Japanese been at war and nobody knew this entire time?!
That... was just perfect. AWOL, in uniform, in a foreign country, and he was caught right in the middle of... something. With his already long list of grievances, it was only common sense not to get involved in another nation's spats. He would be held personally responsible for any little thing he did on foreign soil.
But as he watched, the town outside the compound swarmed to life. People began flooding from buildings, panic written across their faces as they dropped everything and ran. All the kids still had their school uniforms on, dropping books in their haste.
By chance, he noticed the same little girl who had taken his hand at the school. She was terrified, clutching the hand of her mother as they ran west. Away from the approaching clouds.
There was legislation against interfering in another nation's affairs... but fuck it. He was already damned. He couldn't stand by and do nothing.
Pushing himself to his feet, William marched up to the Commander, jaw set. "What do you need me to do?"
EDIT Dec 9, 2023: Fixed grammar and spelling. Plus other errors.
A surge of emotion almost brought him to tears. After so long, he was finally back on solid ground again.
He was never going to take the shore for granted again. Ever.
After allowing himself a few moments to bask in the feeling, he pulled himself together, got back to his feet, and walked up the beach. Now that he was back on solid ground, the next step was finding civilization.
"I don't suppose that map of yours includes roads, does it?"
But Gremlin was gone, having retreated into the battleship while he wasn't looking.
"Fair enough."
Though he could pull his coordinates again and compare them to Gremlin's map for a precise location, that would probably mean more screaming. He didn't get it. Was there something wrong with the battleship? He tried his best to be civil, but everything he did just upset the creature to the point of tears.
He wished he could smooth things out before the inevitable occurred. The Japanese government would likely demand to know what he was doing with the mother of all artillery pieces strapped to his back. He didn't know what Japan's firearm policy was, but he doubted even the States would tolerate this.
Either way, he would likely be ordered to hand the thing over, and what happened to Gremlin after that would be out of his hands. Poor thing.
Putting those thoughts aside, he marched up the beach and found civilization much sooner than expected. It was a large parking lot, behind which was a road that snaked its way along the coast in both directions, partially hidden by dunes.
The lot itself was old and in disrepair. The asphalt was cracked and the lines were faded, coupled with a short row of dilapidated outhouses nestled in the corner. It looked like nobody had visited the place in years... for recreational purposes, anyway. A large, plywood sign had been propped up, reading;
'未知の船
あなた一人じゃありません
この標識にとどまることをお勧めします。 破損した場合は、海上保安庁が回収に伺います。
可能であれば、任意の周波数で送信してください。
あなたは今安全です、恐れないでください'
あなた一人じゃありません
この標識にとどまることをお勧めします。 破損した場合は、海上保安庁が回収に伺います。
可能であれば、任意の周波数で送信してください。
あなたは今安全です、恐れないでください'
The text being written in Japanese was no surprise, but the orientation of the sign was wrong. More than a little confused, William looked back at the ocean. There was nothing on the beach he could have missed or further out on the water. No, the sign was just directing its message at the empty ocean.
Weird. Then again, the sign was obviously military-made, and very hastily done, too. The plywood was an obvious tell, as were the bent nails and the fresh smell of spray paint. It spoke of troops who were given very hasty orders, not a lot of time, and officers riding their asses the whole way. More than likely they had put the sign up backwards in their rush.
…why exactly he felt nostalgic about that hypothetical scenario would forever remain a mystery.
Shrugging, he went around it to the road. Gremlin reappeared on his shoulder as he followed it south. The blank back of the sign caught her attention.
"Desu?"
"Don't worry about it," he shrugged. "It isn't meant for us, anyway."
Gremlin eyed him dubiously for a moment before sighing loudly and flopping down on his shoulder again.
William walked for ten minutes before suspicion started to set in. Not a single car had driven past since he set foot on shore. You would expect the coast to be swarming with tourists. Poisonous fish, maybe? It was an explanation for the sign, at least. Didn't Japan have that... what was it, Zebrafish? It was served somewhere in Asia, he was sure of it. Had those been washing up on shore?
That must suck for everyone involved. A buddy of his had been slapped in the face with a jellyfish once while they were in the Baltic Sea. Though it was one of the non-toxic varieties, his face had swollen up to such an extent that he was known as 'Quagmire' for the rest of the deployment. There were no more jellyfish fights after that.
Aside from toxic fish, there was probably a perfectly rational explanation for the lack of traffic. A fuel spill or something that happened offshore. And honestly, he didn't care. As long as it didn't revolve around supernatural realms and otherworldly powers, he was happy.
After a while the road turned, revealing a T-intersection that branched off deeper inland, winding its way through the trees and out of sight. Most importantly of all, there was a sign. Even better, there was a language he could understand! The Japanese characters were mercifully underlined with familiar, blocky English, graciously informing him that he would hit a place called Hachinohe in another fifty kilometers.
On the other hand, Rokkasho was a mere five klick away. Much better.
Then William saw the rest of the sign and did a hard doubletake. This portion was entirely in Japanese and dominated by a picture of... an anime girl? Her sadistic smile, shark-like teeth, and luminescent eyes gave her an uncanny appearance. Underneath that was a phone number.
Was it… a marketing stunt, maybe? Road sponsorship? Or some part of Japanese culture he wasn't aware of?
"More than half a century later and the bombs are still causing havoc," he muttered.
"Desu," Gremlin said softly, then looked up at him. "Desu?"
"Hell if I know," he shrugged, then turned down the road heading deeper inland. Rokkasho awaited! Just five more klicks to go and then...
He sighed.
This road, in contrast, was in much better condition, appearing to have been paved only a few months ago. Birds were chirping, the sun shining through the tree cover as William worked his way up and down rolling hills. It was peaceful, but with each step counting down towards civilization, the reality of his situation became harder to ignore until he couldn't take it anymore.
Passing over a small bridge, he leaned against the railing and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It didn't help that he could hear the wood creak as the weight of the battleship rested against it.
While he was free of the Abyss, knowing what awaited him back in Canada didn't make it any more appealing.
Technically, he was AWOL and had been for the last eight months. He wasn't going to be welcomed back with open arms, to say the least. Open handcuffs, more likely. Then a court martial... maybe even prison time. And that was even if he made it through the Japanese. As if being armed to the nines wasn't enough, he was doing so in uniform, flag and all. He was, quite literally, an international incident waiting to happen.
The obvious solution would be to ditch the battleship and take his chances. It would have been an excellent idea if only he knew how to remove the damn thing. However, the biggest factor remained that it was the only evidence he had linking his disappearance to the Abyss. Without it, he might as well just say aliens kidnapped him as that would be more plausible.
Like it or not, the battleship was stuck to him. Walking into a populated area was a good way to get himself shot by the police.
Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.
And there were still other issues to consider. He still felt hollow inside. The mass of the battleship rested on his back more prominently than ever, and yet it felt like he had lived with it his whole life. Whatever had been done to him... he didn't even want to think about it. The worst part was how silently it had happened. He didn't even realize it until he was halfway to Japan.
It fit the nature of the Abyss to a 'T'.
Always waiting… silently…
There were so many unknowns. Instead of a cell, he could be looking at a dissection table.
…fuck…
The brook gurgled past and he focused on that, letting the sound fill his ears. Gradually, his worries eased, replaced with another thought.
He could run away. He was in Japan, after all, why not use that to his advantage?
After considering the option briefly, he shoved it aside. He had lived in fear of a supernatural force for the last eight months; he wasn't going to live like a fugitive just because he couldn't face the future.
And that was just ignoring the logistics of trying to live in Japan while being as un-Japanese as you could get; beard and all.
He had no experience of living in another country, least of all in Asia where the alphabet wasn't even the same. He'd probably screw something up, get the police called in, they would find out he wasn't a citizen or whatever, and possibly lock him up. Or deport him. Or just call his government, which would bring him right back to where he started, minus the goodwill he might have gained by coming clean in the first place.
In the end, running solved nothing. It didn't solve the hollowness, and it wouldn't make his life easier. No, it was a mess best left avoided. He had tried his best to live an honest life, he wasn't about to change that now.
"Best choice is never the easiest one," he sighed and looked down at Gremlin. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry we didn't get off on the right foot. Language barrier and all that."
The little gremlin harrumphed at him. "Desu."
Snorting, he pushed off the railing and carried on his way.
The road was becoming more vertically challenged; winding its way around ever higher hills until another three-way intersection appeared. One carried on deeper into the hills, but the other was a straight shot up into what appeared to be a wide clearing. And from that direction, he could hear noises; the indistinct chatter of voices mixed with the occasional shout.
All the same, it took a good minute before he mustered the courage to proceed. There was no turning back.
As he crested the hill, he found himself on a plateau cut into the side of a ridge. What immediately grabbed his attention was the long, two-story building on the far side. Walkways extended from end to end, connecting a long line of equally spaced doors. It seemed to glow under the sun with a fresh coat of paint. There were a few smaller buildings but there was nothing notable about them.
Then the chatter of voices drew his attention downward.
He froze.
In front of the building was a sports field. And running around in groups, kicking balls and playing games... were children.
"...oh..."
Horrified, his eyes darted down. To the turrets. And their guns. Back up to the field. With all the children.
"...oh."
One group of girls clustered on the edge of the field closest to him. It looked like they were playing a game or something, a deck of cards was spread across the ground. And just his luck, the littlest one turned and caught sight of him. Her mouth dropped open.
"Oh fuck."
He had just wandered into a school with what appeared to be an entire gun battery strapped to his back. God help him, there was no way to explain this. This was the end for him. And Gremlin was giving him the most bewildered look yet. Thankfully, the 'what are we doing here' face transcended language.
"In my defense," William whispered, as the girl pointed him out to her friends. "I didn't know I was heading for a fucking school."
"Desu," Gremlin said sourly.
"Yes, I know I'm an idiot." He didn't need to know Japanese to figure that one out.
It was too late to run now; that would only make things worse. A national manhunt for the wild Canadian with guns was the last thing he needed at this point.
Word of his arrival spread like wildfire. Activities ground to a halt as hundreds of beady eyes locked onto him. Within a matter of seconds, the field went dead quiet.
William winced, waiting for the inevitable panic. But… it never happened. Despite the battleship... they weren't screaming. One by one the whispers started, growing into a dull roar as the kids began pointing. They seemed to be more… confused than anything else. And then the phones came out. William cringed, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Then to his complete shock, the girl who had first seen him got up and started running.
Towards him.
William froze up, trying not to make his situation worse as she stopped right in front of him. Her almond eyes were as wide as dinner plates, staring up at him with undisguised awe.
"Musashi-san desu ka?" she spoke. William wasn't sure if it was even a question or a statement.
"Uhh..." William glanced at Gremlin but found no help there. The little creature was watching him, expectantly. "Um... hi?"
The girl's face lit up. "Musashi-sama! Musashi-sama!" She looked back at her friends, repeating the line with greater enthusiasm.
As if a dam had burst, every student on the field surged his way, their murmuring growing into excited clamor. Every single one of them was grinning from ear to ear as they quickly surrounded him. There was so much talking; words he couldn't understand bombarded him on all sides. They were holding up pieces of paper and the occasional pen, their smiling faces practically radiant as…
...all of it fell away into white noise as William looked from one happy face to the next. They were people... real people.
Then he felt something take his hand.
It was the girl... holding his hand.
The look of excitement on her face was blinding as she babbled away in Japanese… though the sound seemed to be coming from miles away. The entire world seemed to drop away, and all that was left was that tiny spot of warmth hanging onto his palm. For all the satellites, blue sky, sand, and roads in the world, there had always been that lingering doubt that it was all just an illusion.
But that tiny hand in his own erased all doubt.
At that moment, the months of total isolation ended.
The world snapped back into focus as the chatter abruptly died down. The kids were staring at him again, and as William wondered why, he felt tears running down his cheeks. After so long convinced he was going to die there... alone...
It was overwhelming.
Even Gremlin was staring at him oddly as he wiped his eyes, struggling to compose himself. Thankfully, another shout rose above the crowd.
From the school building strode several adults, who could have only been the teachers, led by a suited man with a bald top. He fit the stereotypical Principal look. At his word, the students hurriedly backed away, forming a ring around William. As for the suit himself, he and his staff stood at the head with something akin to reverence in their expressions. Then, as one, the entire assembly bowed.
The Principal began a speech, a long draw of Japanese that ended with a flourish.
Surprisingly, it was Gremlin who took the lead, bowing in return. "Desu."
Many of the girls coed at her squeaky voice, but the Principal himself didn't react and stared at him expectantly. Maybe he couldn't understand it either. Weird. They were both speaking Japanese.
William took a breath, his throat still tight.
"You, uh..." his throat suddenly felt as dry as sand and he coughed. "Could you repeat that in English?"
A ripple went through the crowd and the murmuring began again. The Principal looked bewildered. "E-English?"
William sagged in relief. "Yeah. English, please. I'm... not exactly fluent in anim- Japanese... sorry. And, uh... I'm sorry about the guns. I can explain, but... uh..."
Finding the right words was more difficult than he thought, it had been so long since he spoke to another human being. Not to mention he was still struggling to understand how nobody was screaming yet.
They were giant guns for crying out loud!
To his credit, the Principal recovered quickly. "Musashi-sama, you do not need to apologize. We understand how confused you must be. We are honored to have you here with us."
Well, he was right about one thing; William was pretty well confused. What the hell was a Musashi?
Before he could raise the question, however, the school bell rang. At once, the students looked back to the building, then to the Principal, silently pleading with him. But the man would not be swayed. He said something in Japanese and more than a few moans of disappointment were heard as the student body dispersed, with the teachers herding them back to the building.
As they left, the same girl from before waved. "Saraba Musashi-sama!"
William waved back, awkwardly. Seriously, what was a Musashi? It must have meant 'soldier' or something. Before long it was just William and the Principal, standing alone in the yard.
"You're taking this... better than I expected," William said slowly.
The Principal beamed, either missing the point entirely or willfully blind to the guns that had invaded his campus. "It is an honor to meet a Kanmusu face to face. You honor us with your presence here."
Okay, now William was even more confused than ever. Was this a part of Japanese culture he had blundered into? Like the traffic sign? What was a Musashi and how did it relate to a Kanmusu? But he just couldn't get over how the guy hadn't even blinked twice at the guns! He just stood there, beaming his head off, as if meeting a grunt that had washed up on shore was the pride of his whole year!
William felt his shoulders sag. He was... too emotionally drained for this.
"Okay... well, first of all, I'm sorry to intrude, but is there any way I can get in touch with the authorities?"
If it was possible, the principle beamed even wider. "Of course. The Navy has already been informed and are on their way."
"T-The Navy?"
The fuck did the Navy have to do with all this?! But... at the same time, it sort of worked? He still had the battleship... technically, but how the hell did the guy even make the connection? Regardless, the Navy was still a government entity, which would do the trick… but when the hell did calling the Navy supersede calling the police?
William sighed, deeply. He thought he left all the unanswerable questions behind in the Abyss.
"You know what, the navy works too. Thanks."
The man nodded, eagerly, then motioned him towards the school. "Come, we have tea while we wait."
"Yeah, tea... tea sounds good." Following the Principal, it suddenly occurred to William how small the man was. Last he'd checked, he had clocked in at just over six feet three inches, but the Principal barely came up to his chest. And the man was already the tallest of his staff.
Japanese people were tiny.
As they approached the building, they passed a shrine-like structure that had escaped William's notice before. A small obelisk or memorial was set atop a dais, with countless lines of Japanese craved into its surface. Resting before it were a few empty bowls, like an offering. And ringing the display was an array of carefully tended flower beds, blossoming with a rainbow of reds, blues, and purples, filling the air with a lovely fragrance.
The smell alone brought him back years... His mom had flower beds. Once. Just a few she had set apart from all the potatoes and other vegetables that year. She wanted poppies, but tending for them had been a nightmare. In hindsight, those flowers endured a lot. Weeds, drought, and chickens had eventually killed them off.
But if they had survived and thrived, he imagined this was how they would have looked. How proud she would have been.
God, the last time he had seen his mother had been... almost a year ago. A few months before the Abyss had spirited him away, if not longer. She would have loved to see this place; flowers always made her smile.
Would they even let him see his family again? Talk to them?
The fragrance filled his nostrils, reminding him of home...
"Desu?"
William blinked and snapped out of his trance. Both Gremlin and the Principal were looking at him with concern, and he wondered how long he had spaced out.
"Sorry," he murmured, his gait becoming more of a stagger as he followed the Principal. The man was still babbling away, but it was hazy and indistinct. All William could think of was the prairies; the rolling hills, and far away in the west were the mountains presiding over all.
Home.
William stopped abruptly, then slowly sat on the grass. The battleship clattered as it came to rest on the ground, propping up his back. With trembling hands, he undid his helmet and let it drop between his legs. His head lulling back, he stared up into the blue sky he thought he'd never see again. His heart raced so fast it felt like a constant thrum in his chest.
He was just... so tired.
"Musashi-sama, are... are you well?"
Still gazing upward, William nodded. "...I'm fine."
There was a long pause where he made no effort to get up. The Principal coughed. "I will bring the tea, then. Excuse me."
He hurried off, leaving William alone. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was Home. The rustle of wind in the grass, the dust from the roads...
...and then Gremlin was screaming in his ear again, gesturing wildly at the rig before fixing him with a glare that could curdle milk. At any other time, he would have found it hilarious, but right then...
"I wanna go home, Gremlin," he whispered, and the creature's face lost some of its heat at his tone. "I thought I'd never see it again... and now I don't think I ever will."
She visibly hesitated, then puffed up her chest and jabbed a stub right in his face, beginning another rant that ended in another imperious look that wavered slightly.
"Still don't speak Japanese, my friend."
Gremlin huffed, before turning and vanishing into... whatever hidden hatch there was.
Before long, the Principal returned with two steaming cups. Though William accepted the beverage, he couldn't bring himself to try it. All he'd had to drink in the Abyss was tea and water. The battleship had been pretty well stocked. Though he wasn't as sick of it as pineapple, he just... didn't want to think about the Abyss anymore.
Though the Principal tried to reignite the conversation, William couldn't find it in himself to respond either. He just wanted to go home, and trying to explain why you were potentially a wanted fugitive by your government was a conversation he was putting off for as long as possible.
He would save that for when the Navy arrived. The people who could actually do something about it.
In the meantime, he just wanted to watch the sky. The clouds. He never realized how much he'd missed them.
The tea had gone cold by the time a navy blue truck rolled into the parking lot. The Principal hurried over and began talking with the two uniformed men who stepped out. Their blue digital camouflage stuck out like a sore thumb against the green woods.
William eyed them warily for a moment, before languidly rising to his feet, the contraption groaning slightly as it was lifted off the ground.
The two men froze like deer in headlights, their eyes widening as he approached. One was clearly a non-com; a private, or the Japanese equivalent, if William was reading the single chevron correctly. Meanwhile the other boasted a single gold bar, and his bearing practically screamed 'officer.' Although it wavered slightly, as William towered over him.
He wasn't trying to intimate anyone, it wasn't exactly his fault he was this big. Or that the Japanese were so small to begin with.
After a long moment, the officer recovered, cleared his throat, and spoke... in yet more Japanese. Now that the shock had worn off the guy didn't look too impressed. The non-com on the other hand looked completely bewildered.
William took a deep breath.
This was it. No turning back now.
"Do you speak English?"
The officer appeared to be even more perplexed than the Principal. He looked back at his non-com, but he could only shrug. Yes, because everyone was surprised when the tourist didn't speak Japanese.
"Uhm... Yes?" The officer finally said.
With that affirmation, William looked down at the Principal. "Thank you for everything you've done, but I need to speak to these men alone."
The suited man looked up at him for a long moment, then smiled hesitantly. "I hope you get well soon, Musashi-sama. You do not look well."
With that parting statement, the man hurried back to his school and William turned his attention back to the officer.
Well... time to rip off the bandaid. "My name... is Corporal William A. Morgan, of the Canadian Armed Forces. I would... politely request that you contact my government and tell them I'm here."
William had expected some confusion, but the officer was so lost you might as well have told him Japan had won the war. He spared another glance at his underling, who appeared just as helpless.
"Listen, uh..." William tried again, glancing at the man's name tag. Again, the language barrier reared its ugly head. "...sir. I just need to get in contact with the Canadian Embassy. That's it."
Now the man looked dazed. "Uhm...so you... are not Musashi?"
William gave him a flat look. "I just told you my name, didn't I? Who or what is a Musashi?"
That seemed to break the officer. His mouth opened and closed silently, trying to find words. Ultimately, the best he could do was gesture weakly at the truck. "Would you be opposed to... come and speak with my superiors?"
Ah yes, the old game of hot potato. Who's problem was he going to end up being? Clearly, the lieutenant wanted nothing to do with him. William sighed. He couldn't exactly blame the man. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
Without waiting for an invitation he trudged over to the truck and immediately encountered a problem. Namely, the hunk of metal strapped to his back prevented him from climbing into the back seat.
There didn't appear to be a clip or latch in the waistband, and he couldn't twist far enough to see if the contraption was detachable. Sighing again, William turned to the wide-eyed Private. "You wouldn't happen to know how to remove this, would you?"
"G-Gomen'nasai, watashi wa eigo ga hanasemasen." the non-com replied. He turned to his Lieutenant. "Sensei, kare ga nani o itte iru no ka wakarimasen!"
"Mō sono kosuchūmu o sutero to kare ni tsutaete kudasai!" The officer called back, climbing into the driver seat. "Kusokanada hito..."
"Demo eigogawakarimasen!"
"Nani?!"
"You know what" William grunted, as it appeared the two were about to argue. "I'll just get in the back."
Before they could stop him, he jumped into the truck bed. The suspension creaked ominously as he settled down. The rig was taking up a ton of space, leaving him curled up awkwardly against the tailgate. The booms were jutting out over the side and he had to sit carefully to avoid smashing out the rear window.
At least the Abyss' physics-defying bullshit kept the suspension from shattering under the rig's weight. And his spine. And knees.
The Private gaped at him for a moment before a shout from the Lieutenant made him crawl into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. There was a long pause before the engine finally roared to life, and they pulled out the school. But the journey was much shorter than William expected.
At the three-way intersection just below the school, the truck turned onto the third exit, but after only a few kilometers began to slow. With the rig blocking his view forward, the scenery abruptly transitioned from forest to fenced-off yards and bare wood houses. He didn't know how else to describe it, but everything looked stereotypically Japanese. This must be Rokkasho, then.
As the truck pulled up to a red light, William came level with an old woman watering some flower beds. She took one look at him and her mouth dropped open. William barely had time to nod in greeting before the truck was off again. But as they drove away, the old woman stepped onto the sidewalk to watch them go in complete bewilderment.
Like the Principal, she didn't seem to have a problem with the battleship either.
Normally, that would have been a good thing. The last thing he intended was to start a panic, but something about the whole situation was off.
The feeling persisted as they stopped at another light, bringing him level with a group of teenagers in school uniforms about to cross the street. They immediately forgot about it as they caught sight of him, staring in open shock. But again, there was no panic. A whole battery of guns on display; a contraption straight from the Abyss was right in front of them and these high school girls barely batted an eye.
Something was wrong. The same thing happened wherever they went; people stared, and some smiled and waved, but never was there any fear. And just when it couldn't get any weirder, a thought came to mind.
The students at the school, and even the Principal, had seen Gremlin. They didn't even bat an eye at the otherworldly creature.
"Ah fuck..." he groaned, pulling his knees tight to his chest to keep his composure. Forget the civilians, he was the one trying to keep his nerve.
No one was panicking because they knew exactly what the battleship was! If they recognized it, that meant the Abyss had been active on Earth in his absence. It was the only possible explanation.
"Fuuuuuck..." He thought he'd left it behind, what the hell was going on? Could he even trust the Japanese now? What the hell could he have missed in those eight months?
The truck turned sharply into a fenced-off compound, the gate closing automatically behind it. The camp was a place that, up until now, had only existed purely in imagination: A brand spanking new military base. Or an outpost, rather. But that didn't change the fact that none of the buildings looked older than a decade. A motor pool sat next to a multi-story building that had bundles of wires leading to a large antenna in the corner of the compound; most likely the HQ. Neat rows of shacks ringed the perimeter, surrounding a parade square and what was unmistakably a mess hall. And on a hill, presiding over it all was a towering concrete structure, upon which spun the largest radar array he had ever seen.
But even that couldn't draw his eye away from the multiple anti-aircraft batteries scattered around. He had only been gone eight months, what the hell happened? Japan looked ready to go to war! Again.
William climbed out of the truck the moment it stopped, the battleship clanking as he hit the ground and took in his surroundings warily. Nothing about this felt right anymore.
There were dozens of personnel scattered about and more were exiting the various shacks and buildings until he was surrounded. Unlike the students, though, none of their gazes held any sort of warmth. They all muttered to each other, the words 'Musashi' and 'Baka' featured predominantly.
The lieutenant had gotten out and was motioning him to follow, leading him to the front steps of the HQ. As they arrived, an older man stepped out to meet them. Unlike the others, he was in full dress uniform, with a shaved head and small, circular spectacles. There were three gold bars on his collar, so he was pretty high up on the chain, most likely the camp CO.
Unlike the rest of his men, the commanding officer's expression was inscrutable. Finally, he spoke. "I have been told you speak exclusively English."
That was an odd question. Nonetheless, William nodded. "Yes sir."
The CO seemed to be choosing his words with care. "You do not understand Japanese?"
"No." Obviously not.
A murmur went through the assembled group, and even the CO seemed a little confused. But before another line of questions could be raised, William took the initiative. "Sir, may I speak to you privately? It's very important."
"If it is an explanation for this stunt, I believe we are all entitled to hear it," the man shot back coldly.
"Stunt?"
At that, the officer scowled. "Pretending to be a Kanmusu at this time is in very poor taste, let alone one who hasn't returned yet."
"What? But I'm not a..." William gave up with a groan, running a hand down his face. Despite his building frustration, he forced his voice to stay level. "Look, am I able to get in touch with the Canadian embassy or not? I'm not a can-mu-so, or whatever it is. I just-"
"Then remove it." The officer ordered, jutting his chin at the battleship. "If you are honest then you will not disrespect our protectors any longer. Remove it. Now."
"I would if I could, believe me!"
The man only scowled. Against his better judgment, William scowled back. It wasn't his fault he was stuck with this thing and he wouldn't be treated like a criminal for it! However, he reminded himself that this wasn't his country, he was already in deep shit, and drawing it out wouldn't do him any good.
"Sir, I'll be completely honest with you... I've been AWOL for the last eight months. I went missing on exercise in Gagetown New Brunswick and ended up floating in a godforsaken pit, went through a fucking Maelstrom, then was spat out in the Pacific with this thing stuck to my back and a gremlin screaming in my ear. As unbelievable as that sounds, sir, I can promise you it's the truth."
Dead silence.
"If nothing else can you just call the CAF? They can at least confirm the first part."
For a long moment, only a gentle breeze could be heard. Then;
"A gremlin?" the officer asked, flatly.
William sagged. Why was that the thing he focused on?
"Yeah, a gremlin. One sec." He thumped a turret with a fist. The entire battleship shook, he could feel the vibrations run down his spine. Not to mention the clang made everyone jump. "Hey, Gremlin? I need ya out here."
Gremlin appeared a moment later, storming onto his shoulder as mad as a pitbull, stubs flailing and howling at the top of her lungs. However, she spluttered to a halt as she saw the CO.
"As you can see," William said, gesturing, "it's a gremlin."
That earned him a tiny slap to the chin before Gremlin gave the man a textbook salute.
The compound went oddly quiet. Everyone was staring at the little creature, gobsmacked. The officer in particular appeared torn between disbelief and pure denial. Then he gathered himself and saluted the creature back. "Tsudzukeru."
Gremlin nodded respectfully, then reached over and plucked another hair out of William's beard.
"Ow! Stop that!"
"Desu!" She pointed to the thumped turret. "Desu!!"
"It's solid steel, I'm sure it's fine!" Exasperated, William looked to the officer. "If nothing else, please tell me you understand this thing. It's been screaming at me all day!"
The crowd suddenly returned to life; whispers flying everywhere as the men and women pointed at Gremlin, growing louder until the officer silenced them with a raised hand. He looked downright shaken. "M... Musashi?"
For fucks sake!
William took a deep breath, held it, before letting it out slowly. "I am not this Musashi, I am not a Kanmusu, I am not trying to impersonate anyone! My name is Cpl William A. Morgan and I'm just trying to get home. That's it."
There was a very long pause. None of the Japanese seemed to know how to take this. Finally, the officer gave an order in his native tongue. The crowd hesitated, but a harsh word sent them scurrying away. When they were alone, the officer continued down the steps to stand before William directly. For such a powerful presence he barely came up to William's chest.
His gaze never left Gremlin, and the little creature matched his look with impunity. "This is... unprecedented." His voice was much softer now.
"Tell me about it."
His gaze snapped up to William's face, and surprisingly he held out a hand. "I am Commander Gengyo, commanding officer of the New Rokkasho Radar Installation number 17. I apologize, but... nothing like this has happened before."
"I understand, yeah... I'd freak out over the big man with guns too. Look, I'm sorry I wandered onto that school, I didn't know where I was going. It's... probably hit the internet by now." William sighed, whatever relief he felt was replaced by defeat. "This is going to be an international incident, isn't it?"
Gengyo's eyes flicked to Gremlin. "I... am afraid so."
Grimacing, William nodded. He'd expected as much. Now it was all a matter of finding out how deep in the shit he was. At least the hard part was over and done with, now he just had to ride out the aftermath.
"Unfortunately, I do not have the authority to contact your- the Canadian Embassy about this matter. Again, this is an unprecedented development."
William nodded again in understanding and muttered to himself. "...You can thank the Abyss for that..."
"Among other things," Gengyo returned, dryly, turning away and completely missing William's askanced look. "Please wait here, I will contact my superiors."
As the CO entered his HQ, William swiveled around and outright staggered onto the lawn. His knees felt weak as he fell back on his butt, rattling the battleship again and prompting another rant from Gremlin. Her shrieks went in one ear and out the other as the revelation of what he'd just heard dawned on him.
"...fuck..."
They knew about the Abyss.
And not just their military; the entire nation knew! They didn't panic at his guns, they seemed to know what Gremlin was, and Gengyo's comment was the last nail in the proverbial coffin.
They fucking knew!
While that did inspire a certain amount of dread, he felt... betrayed. If they knew about the Abyss why had no one come looking for him? He was going out on a limb here, but if his disappearance had opened the world's eyes to this supernatural realm, why had they left him there? A lot could happen in eight months and he'd been out of touch with the world that entire time; anything was possible.
Or… was it just the Japanese that knew?
But more than anything, it left him feeling drained. He'd been on a rollercoaster of emotion for months; coming to terms with his death only to survive through means he didn't understand. He just didn't want to think about it anymore. Only the distant hope of seeing home again was keeping him going now. Everything else could take a hike.
The Japanese seemed to what they were doing… he'd wait out for more info.
Leaning back, he tipped his helmet over his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.
Maybe when he woke up things would make more sense.
----
Gengyo sat at his desk, hands clasped before him as he regarded the problem at hand. This... William. The battleship was either deeply confused or something else was at work, and then there were the Kanmusu's parting words.
The Abyss.
As far as he was aware, Kanmusu emerged with no knowledge of it, needing to be introduced to the new world and the war they were called to serve in. The fact that Musashi knew was deeply concerning.
That the battleship believed itself to be Canadian, even more so.
And a man to boot.
In the presence of his staff, however, he resisted the urge to give in to his frustration. A centered mind was required to navigate this... unusual situation.
Gengyo deeply respected the Kanmusu; everyone did. But he was still an old man, even before the war began. If he could do his duty without seeing another day of bloodshed, he would die a happy man. Which ultimately led to accepting a position as far away from the Kanmusu Corp as possible. They were still war machines; death followed wherever they went.
Gently, he pulled himself back to the present. He could hardly blame the Kanmusu, especially Kongou for what happened that day, but the war left scars on them all. His children always said he was different after his wife died.
However, he couldn't allow his bias to cloud his judgment, no matter how much he wished the Ship Spirit had never come to New Rokkasho. They were interesting spirits, not necessarily fortunate ones. They existed to fight a war humans could hardly comprehend. However beautiful they appeared, they were still engines of war, and you couldn't change what they represented.
Although, Musashi was on the far end of the spectrum when it came to beauty.
With a calming exhale, he allowed his attention to flow back into the conversation filling his office. Or rather, the lack thereof. The four subordinates gathered before his desk were just as confused as he was.
Finally, Gengyo spoke.
"Musashi has returned to us, however confused he might be." He said the words slowly, watching and engaging their reactions. "If there are any doubts as to this, I will hear them now."
Almost immediately, Lieutenant Tetsu stepped forward. "Sir, this must be a trick! No shipgirl has ever come back... well, like this!"
"You're just upset the first one you've ever met didn't have breasts the size of your head," Lieutenant Keita snarked.
"I am not-!"
"Enough." A single word brought them to a screeching halt. When the room had calmed, Gengyo motioned to Tetsu. "Your reasoning?"
"I... well, look at the obvious," he spluttered, blushing. "That's as far from a shipgirl as you can get! None of them have ever come back as men, it's impossible. It goes against their nature."
Keita coughed, a sound that sounded suspiciously like 'breasts.'
"Plus, she doesn't understand a word of Japanese." Tetsu continued. "How can a Japanese battleship not know her native tongue? Either this is an Abyssal trick or it is a prank in very poor taste!"
Clearly, the Lieutenant was in denial about the whole thing.
"But you saw the faerie," Lieutenant Yura spoke up. A fresh transfer from Yokosuka, she had the most experience with the Kanmusu between the three junior officers. "You can't fake that."
"Plus if it was an Abyssal we'd be long dead," Petty Officer Naomichi, ever the voice of reason, intoned. He shared a knowing glance with Gengyo.
"But-"
A raised hand was all it took for Gengyo to silence the room. "The Petty Officer is correct. If there is one thing the war has taught us, the Abyssals are nothing but honest with their intentions."
"Sir," Tetsu protested. "She... he has a Canadian flag on his shoulder! He's supposed to be a Japanese battleship! It's impossible!"
"I've seen it," Gengyo confirmed, staring the young man down until he was quiet. "And his tale is equally hard to believe. However, whether he is genuine is not our decision to make. Admiral Goto will make the final call. Moreover, I will not have any of you spreading dissent until this matter is resolved. Public perception is precarious enough with him wandering into a school and I will not have my staff make things worse by spreading rumors. Understood?"
There was a chorus of affirmation from them all.
"Good. The search parties from Yokosuka are coming to collect him. Hopefully, they will have more insight into the topic. I will meet them at the train station with Musashi personally. In the meantime..."
He raised his voice slightly, not enough to yell, but enough to let them know he considered the topic closed.
"...Lieutenant Yura, Ops has reported issues with the radar mast, what have you found?"
She snapped to attention. "Hai. The returning signals haven't been consistent with the amount of power the array is using. We've been conducting inspections, but we can't find anything wrong internally. I was just about to do a full report before... uhm, Musashi arrived."
Gengyo nodded and turned his attention to Keita. Their little station had a mixed bag of positions. While Yura's group were the engineers responsible for their mast's maintenance, all data gathered was fed into Keita's specialized unit.
"Do you have any insight into this?"
In response, Keita pulled out his phone and set it on the desk. In his spare time, he had written a program that streamed the live radar data to his phone. At least, that was how he described it. When Gengyo had asked to see the code, it made about as much sense to him as that damn hentai the man adored.
But it was still a breach of security, and the Lieutenant needed another reminder of that if he was brandishing it around so brazenly.
Walking over to the map of the Pacific Gengyo kept on the wall, Keita pointed. "We should be seeing Trans-Pacific Trade Passage. A Russian convoy left port two days ago on route to America. We should have them on the scopes, but we don't."
He went back to his phone and pointed out a few tiny symbols. "They should be about... here, right in our arcs, but we aren't getting any returning signals. There's no sign of bad weather to interfere, so my bet is a loss of power to the array. While the teams were out hunting for our wayward ship, I took the liberty of running a few tests. Yesterday we could detect objects two hundred kilometers out. Today, less than twenty."
Gengyo's eyes widened and his blood ran cold. Only twenty?
Keita rose and shrugged. "My best guess is power loss, I can't think of anything else that would cause a gradual loss of signal."
"I've double-checked everything," Yura protested. "The mast-"
"This is unacceptable!" Gengyo said, cutting her off. "We are the eyes of Japan, her first line of defense! Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"
Keita opened his mouth, but Gengyo cut him off with a slash of his hand. "No, it doesn't matter. I will not be blinded! You two, fix this at once, I do not want to see you again until you do! Lieutenant Tetsu, they are your superiors now; you and yours will assist them with whatever they need. Understood?"
The three snapped to attention. "Hai!"
"Go."
The three rushed out, leaving Gengyo alone with his XO
"Twenty kilometers," Gengyo spat, releasing a bit of his pent-up anger. "I should send them all back to Yokosuka with their careers in tatters! Twenty kilometers!"
"I can see why they didn't say anything," Naomichi said, drily.
Opening his laptop, Gengyo made a note. "And Lieutenant Keita... the academy can have him back. I don't care if he's a prodigy or not, forgoing security, and the absolute gall! Twenty kilometers, and he said it like it was nothing! Twenty is all an Abyssal needs to wreak havoc. Is he that stupid?"
"You have to wonder what they're teaching at the academy these days."
"Obviously not enough!" Note complete, Gengyo shut his laptop with a huff. "If they spent half as much time studying as they did ogling Kanmusu we wouldn't have this problem. Twenty kilometers, dear god!"
"Hano," Naomichi said gently. "They made a mistake, now move on."
Gengyo opened his mouth, then looked down and realized his hands were trembling.
Twenty kilometers...
He forced himself to calm down, clasping his hands together until the shaking stopped. Deep breaths, one after the other.
Twenty was all they needed. Those young fools didn't understand what they were fighting. He certainly hadn't... not until he was close enough to look an Abyssal in the eye. You never forgot that malevolent gaze.
Finally, when his racing heart had settled, he met Naomichi's gaze.
"We're not keeping Keita. This is the last straw."
The Petty Officer nodded. "Agreed." There was a pause. "And... I have to ask, what about Musashi?"
Gengyo gave a long sigh. "I am eternally grateful he is not my problem. Yokosuka will have to figure out what to do with Mr Morgan."
The XO's brow rose. "So you believe him?"
In response, Gengyo opened his laptop again. He had been dubious at first, and more than willing to simply pass the problem onto the Kanmusu retrieval team, but the mystery was too compelling, even to his withered sense of adventure. It hadn't been much, just a simple online search for this 'Cpl William A Morgan' to satisfy his curiosity.
He got more than he bargained for; an article, with an obituary published a week later. The headline was undeniable. 'Canadian Armed Forces Member Declared Missing on Exercise.'
"Oh my god," Naomichi breathed, staring at the included photo. Gengyo nodded in agreement.
Musashi's beard was ragged, his hair unkempt, and his face pale and drawn, but he was a dead match to the man smiling out from the article's picture. It certainly lined up with the first half of Mususahi's story, if only partially. His time frame was way off.
"I... don't believe it..."
"We are living in interesting times," Gengyo agreed.
Naomichi grinned ruefully. "Well... I am content to let Yokosuka handle this."
"Agreed."
----
"Why didn't you get his autograph?" Ogmai whined.
Kuwahara rolled his eyes. His little sister's petulance had been funny at first, ship-girl fanatic as she was, but now it was getting annoying. School had only been out for ten minutes!
"Kuuuuwahara, why?"
"Ogmai, everyone was asking for his autograph. He didn't sign anything!"
"Then why didn't you ask harder?"
He sighed, kicking a rock down the earthen trail. Little sisters..."If you wanted to see him so bad then why did you go and get in trouble?"
"I didn't know he was coming," she moaned. "You know shipgirls never come this far north."
"Well, he's not exactly a shipgirl."
"I know! He's the very first shipboy! The very first ship-boy landed in Rokkasho and I missed it!" She sniffed. "Do you think this means more are coming?"
He shrugged, now completely enthralled with keeping the rock rolling.
"What did he look like? Was his rigging the same as Yamato's?" She gasped, struck with an idea, her melancholy completely forgotten. "Do you think Yamato knows she has a brother and not a sister?" There was another gasp. "Do you think Kongou will try to seduce him with her Burning Love?! Would Yamato like that? She's so sweet and kind!"
He grunted, the rock kicking continued unabated.
"Kuwahara, will they fall in love? This means ship-girls can finally get married!"
Love?
The pebble jumped as he lost focus and he quickly had to knock it back onto the trail. He shuddered. He couldn't imagine anyone falling in love with Musashi of all people.
Not with that face...
"Was it true that he was crying?" Ogmai asked, suddenly quiet. "Chikae-chan said that he looked sad. Very sad."
"That's one way to put it..."
In truth, it had been hard to place any emotion past that ugly beard. Why would a Japanese battleship have a beard like a Western foreigner?
But Ogmai was right about one thing; he was the first shipboy.
However, once the novelty wore off you were left with an entirely different impression. Musashi was nothing like a shipgirl, the obvious notwithstanding. He was a giant; taller even than Principle Hisato. With scruffy hair that poked out from under his helmet, that awful beard, and pale skin. But while Yamato's fair tone held a radiant beauty, Musashi just looked ill, like he hadn't seen the sun in years.
And his eyes...
Kuwahara shuddered.
There was too much white around those blood-red irises, like Musashi's eyes had been stretched into a perpetual expression of dread. Even when he tried to smile, those awful eyes remained.
"...Kuwahara...?"
A sudden grip around his arm stopped Kuwahara short. The pebble kept bouncing down the trail, rolling between the feet of a pale woman standing in their way. Her shoulder-length black hair obscured the top half of her face, save for a sharp pair of glasses resting atop her nose.
Her mouth was visible, and as she saw them through her ebony locks, the woman broke into what would have been a gentle smile, if not for the teeth.
"Hmm... evidently my calculations were correct," she said, her sensual voice reverberating through the air. "Judging from the time, you are returning home from school. Correct?"
"Kuwahara?..." Ogmai whimpered, shrinking back and using his body as a shield.
Kuwahara wished he could do the same. His legs felt weak. There was something eerily familiar about the woman; a sort of family resemblance, though he was too terrified to remember where he'd seen it. A malevolent aura surrounded her, almost radiating from her skin... Skin that was as pale as a corpse.
She took a single step forward, the pebble shattering under her shoe. The siblings scrambled to take three steps back.
"Which indicates the work day is over and everyone will congregate in their homes, ripe for the taking. Oh, don't be afraid," she whispered, voice as smooth as silk. "I belong here, you know. This is my home just as it was yours."
She looked up, her hair parting around two small horns on her forehead. On her brow was a red and brown mark that arched around her eyes like the tips of a mountain. Eyes that glowed a malevolent blue as she sighed in contentment.
Suddenly, the resemblance clicked. Moreover, with Ogmai following ship-girls religiously… hadn't the Kongous been waiting for their fourth sister to return?
Kuwahara shook his head, rendered mute with horror. His sister's grip on his leg was becoming painful as the battleship Kirishima stalked closer.
"Ye~es," the Abyssal breathed. "I'm sure my dearest Onee-sama will be delighted to see me again."
Then she paused, taking in the siblings as if for the first time. "Why are you still here?"
As Kuwahara stammered, the Abyssal snapped her fingers. The trees behind the siblings exploded, thick trunks cracking into splinters as a monstrous form lunged out. Kuwahara and Ogmai didn't even have time to scream as the colossal jaws closed on them both with a sickening crack.
Kirishima giggled as she petted the bow of her rigging, still chewing its victims down to paste. Its timing needed improvement, but that was for a later date. After all, the time for subtlety had long since passed.
With lavish grace, she bounded atop her rigging's torpedo-like head and raised her hands to the sky. She had trained long and hard for this moment; hiding her power through sheer will alone. And now, years of plotting, study, careful negotiations, and bloodshed had led to this moment.
She had finally returned home.
Thunder boomed in the sky, the clouds swirling and darkening above her.
"The rising sun has lost its light," she hissed to the sky.
The woods cracked and shattered as her destroyers emerged and formed a perimeter, shouldering the woods into splinters. Her Cruisers and Carriers gathered around her, watching. Most were used to walking on dry land, but their recent addition, one of the Wo-Class, looked uneasy at being even this minuscule distance from the ocean.
Her unmarked bridge gazed up at the Princess with a mixture of uncertainty and awe, shadows dancing across her face as the clouds thickened.
"Defeat and fear have culled a once proud nation! Its warriors condemned to the cold embrace of the Abyss. They spat on our sacrifice and bent the knee to our hated enemy! I, Kirishima, Daughter of the Abyss, denounce my oaths to this nation, just as it denounced me!"
The clouds turned black. Lightning flashed as the full power of the Princess was revealed. And she smiled.
"Let this be the first memory of Rokkasho. The anguish of ancient sins will form the foundation, the ruins of the present will craft the masonry, the blood of the guilty shall mix the mortar and their fear will become the clarion call for a new Installation! Rokkasho will be born anew this day!"
With regal authority, she pointed west. Towards Rokkasho. To the destroyers, she gave her commands.
"Cut off their escape. Kill everyone you find."
With a howl of bloodlust, the Destroyers bounded off. Oh how Kirishima longed to join them, but there was a much more important task at hand.
"Can you feel it?"
The unmarked Wo flinched as she was addressed. Her two fellow carriers shrank back as Kirishima descended from her rigging.
"M-My Princess?"
"The land. The earth." She alighted next to her rigging's maw, the teeth still dripping with gore. "Can you feel it? The solid ground beneath your keel?"
The Wo nodded hesitantly, uncertainty written across her face. Clearly, the carrier had never set foot on dry land before, and yet she had volunteered willingly for her cause. The possible prestige for helping to achieve a goal such as theirs wasn't enough to tempt even the most ambitious of carriers, the risk was far too great.
And yet, this one had followed them here. That spoke of something deeper than pride; a fear the carrier was trying to hide. A truth that the Wo-class had been forced to face, and found the same answer Kirishima had.
"It comforts you, doesn't it," she said softly, almost a whisper.
The Wo nodded again, this time more certain of herself.
Taking the carrier's answer for what it was, the Princess dipped her hands into the fountain of red falling from her rigging's maw. "As it does for all of us who have seen the truth." With her hands soaked, she reached down and plucked up a handful of dirt, kneading the two ingredients into a paste.
And before the entirety of the Wo's new fleet, she was marked with the Unsinkable Mountain.
Amidst the treacherous seas, there never once was a vessel that sank on dry land. And in these uncertain times, the Wo, like the rest of them, chose to put her faith in that indomitable strength.
With the formalities completed, Kirishima rose to her full height, taking in her fleet. "You all have your tasks. Prepare this place for our new sister."
'And if Onee-sama attempts to stop me,' Kirishima's broad smile became strained. 'Then I will send her to the Abyss... just like the rest.'
"Go! Rokkasho awaits!"
----
Kuwahara and Ogmai should have been home by now. Onishi watched the growing storm with worry. She trusted her children not to get lost, but in a storm like this, she was afraid they would catch their death of cold.
Sudden storms were far from unheard of, but this was unusual. The weather report had said nothing about this.
Maybe her husband was right? They should have moved into the town. But... no. The little acreage was perfect. So what if they lived a few kilometers out of town; a little walking never hurt anyone.
Lightning flashed.
She hoped.
She said a quick prayer for their safe return and put some water on for tea. Her children would appreciate a warm drink after braving the cold. She was about to return to the dishes when something outside caught her eye.
A car was coming up the lane, bouncing up and down like it was driving through a field of potholes, but their lane was...
...it was the wrong shape for a car. As it drew closer, Onishi realized the object was crawling forward on a pair of fins like a demented seal. And as its torpedo-shaped body turned to face her, she realized exactly what it was.
Terror gripped her and she screamed. The Abyssal roared back; its jaw full of human teeth opening wide and a cannon pushed out like a tongue.
There was a boom and a flash.
----
William's eyes snapped open. The sky above was black with thunderheads, but that sound? That... wasn't thunder.
The Japanese servicemen were rushing into the yard, staring up into the sky, apparently caught off guard by the storm as well.
And there was the sound again. A deep, cracking boom.
William jumped to his feet.
That wasn't thunder. He'd know the sound of artillery anywhere.
Immediately, the compound erupted into motion. Men were running for their stations in a frenzy, shouting in Japanese. But they were all silenced as one voice roared above them all.
"Arāmu wa arimasen!"
Commander Gengyo stormed out of the HQ, letting out another shout that was almost overpowered by a third boom echoing across land.
"Arāmu wa arimasen! Sō sureba, karera wa bīkon no yō ni watashitachi ni hikiyose rarerudeshou!"
The yard froze. With all eyes fixed on him, the officer took a moment to collect himself, then spared a brief look to the east, where the eye of the storm hung. There was a brief look of uncertainty before his stoicism slipped back into place.
"Watashitachi ni wa karera o kōgeki suru shudan ga nai tame, hinan ga yūsen sa remasu. Oka o kayotte shin'nyū dekiru michi wa kagira rete imasu. Watashitachiha hitobito o korera no pointo kara tetsudō-eki ni mukete atsumemasu! Karera o soko kara hinan sa semasu!"
He began issuing orders, firing off Japanese so fast he was like a machine gun.
Instantly, the men jumped into action. They ran for the motor pool, jumping into trucks and peeling off into town. Those who couldn't catch a ride simply sprinted out the gate, shouting at the top of their lungs. People were already poking their heads out of doors and windows, or pausing on the sidewalk at the distant artillery fire. Whatever the soldiers were shouting got them fired up.
A small group of servicemen ran for a building in the compound and practically tore the door off getting inside. They emerged with armfuls of RPG7s and bandoleers of spare rockets. One was even hefting a familiar tube; an 84mm recoilless rifle.
For a moment, all William could do was watch, bewildered. Forget the frying pan into the fire analogy, he wasn't even in the campsite. What the fuck was going on?!
They were gearing up for war, but who the hell were they fighting? Had the Japanese been at war and nobody knew this entire time?!
That... was just perfect. AWOL, in uniform, in a foreign country, and he was caught right in the middle of... something. With his already long list of grievances, it was only common sense not to get involved in another nation's spats. He would be held personally responsible for any little thing he did on foreign soil.
But as he watched, the town outside the compound swarmed to life. People began flooding from buildings, panic written across their faces as they dropped everything and ran. All the kids still had their school uniforms on, dropping books in their haste.
By chance, he noticed the same little girl who had taken his hand at the school. She was terrified, clutching the hand of her mother as they ran west. Away from the approaching clouds.
There was legislation against interfering in another nation's affairs... but fuck it. He was already damned. He couldn't stand by and do nothing.
Pushing himself to his feet, William marched up to the Commander, jaw set. "What do you need me to do?"
Sign:
'unknown vessel
you are not alone
We urge you to stay at this sign. We of the Japanese Coast guard will come and collect you if you are damaged.
If you can, transmit on any frequency and we will hear you
you are safe now, do not be afraid'
"Musashi-sandesu ka?" she spoke.
"Are you Musashi?"
"G-Gomen'nasai, watashi wa eigo ga hanasemasen." the non-com replied. He turned to his Lieutenant. "Sensei, kare ga nani o itte iru no ka wakarimasen!"
"I'm sorry, I don't speak english." - "Sir, I don't know what he's saying!"
"Mō sono kosuchūmu o sutero to kare ni tsutaete kudasai!" The officer called back, climbing into the driver seat. "Kusokanada hito..."
"Tell him to dump the damned costume already!" - "Fucking canadian."
"Demo eigogawakarimasen!"
"But I don't understand English!"
"Nani?!"
I don't think I need to explain this one.
"Tsudzukeru."
"Carry on."
"Arāmu wa arimasen!"
"No alarms!"
"Arāmu wa arimasen! Sō sureba, karera wa bīkon no yō ni watashitachi ni hikiyose rarerudeshou!"
"No alarms! That will draw them towards us like a beacon!"
"Watashitachi ni wa karera o kōgeki suru shudan ga nai tame, hinan ga yūsen sa remasu. Oka o kayotte shin'nyū dekiru michi wa kagira rete imasu. Watashitachiha hitobito o korera no pointo kara tetsudō-eki ni mukete atsumemasu! Karera o soko kara hinan sa semasu!"
"We do not have the means to engage them, so evacuation is our priority. They have limited avenues of approach through the hills; we will funnel people away from these points towards the train station! We will evacuate them from there!"
All translation are curtsy of google translate. I neither speak nor read Japanese beyond what memes have taught me.
'unknown vessel
you are not alone
We urge you to stay at this sign. We of the Japanese Coast guard will come and collect you if you are damaged.
If you can, transmit on any frequency and we will hear you
you are safe now, do not be afraid'
"Musashi-sandesu ka?" she spoke.
"Are you Musashi?"
"G-Gomen'nasai, watashi wa eigo ga hanasemasen." the non-com replied. He turned to his Lieutenant. "Sensei, kare ga nani o itte iru no ka wakarimasen!"
"I'm sorry, I don't speak english." - "Sir, I don't know what he's saying!"
"Mō sono kosuchūmu o sutero to kare ni tsutaete kudasai!" The officer called back, climbing into the driver seat. "Kusokanada hito..."
"Tell him to dump the damned costume already!" - "Fucking canadian."
"Demo eigogawakarimasen!"
"But I don't understand English!"
"Nani?!"
I don't think I need to explain this one.
"Tsudzukeru."
"Carry on."
"Arāmu wa arimasen!"
"No alarms!"
"Arāmu wa arimasen! Sō sureba, karera wa bīkon no yō ni watashitachi ni hikiyose rarerudeshou!"
"No alarms! That will draw them towards us like a beacon!"
"Watashitachi ni wa karera o kōgeki suru shudan ga nai tame, hinan ga yūsen sa remasu. Oka o kayotte shin'nyū dekiru michi wa kagira rete imasu. Watashitachiha hitobito o korera no pointo kara tetsudō-eki ni mukete atsumemasu! Karera o soko kara hinan sa semasu!"
"We do not have the means to engage them, so evacuation is our priority. They have limited avenues of approach through the hills; we will funnel people away from these points towards the train station! We will evacuate them from there!"
All translation are curtsy of google translate. I neither speak nor read Japanese beyond what memes have taught me.
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- Location
- Oregon, USA
That's not the issue. Abyssals mess with sensors. The reason they were having problems was because the Abyssals were close.
- Location
- Villa Straylight, Freeside, Earth Orbit
Good chapter is good! And its out of the frying pan and into the fire! Someone is about to get a crash course in the grim new reality of his world. Oh man this is going to result in so much PTSD.
New Abyssal-Early-Warning-Radar, just when it stops working you get to play 'is it broken or is it ghost demon boats?'
New Abyssal-Early-Warning-Radar, just when it stops working you get to play 'is it broken or is it ghost demon boats?'
- Location
- Alaska, USA
Which is exactly why he was supposed to alert his CO the moment he started losing range on the radar. It could be an equipment fault, or it could be an abyssal taskforce.
This is really cool. I had an idea similar in broad strokes that I've been slowly working on, and seeing how you've done this has gotten me excited for that again. I love how you portrayed the Abyss (neutral), the Abyss (negative), and the reconstruction process for the ship. Hopefully our friend here gets at least some understanding of his weapons before having to go face to face with the incoming task force. Thanks for the work 
Chapter 10: Rokkasho Part 1
"Any word from Rokkasho?" Colonel Zenko demanded, hands squeezing the railing with a feverish intensity.
The storm had come out of nowhere, blooming into existence before his very eyes. There was only one possible explanation and he dearly hoped he was wrong.
"Nothing, sir!"
Damn.
"How's the weather radar reading this?" he asked next. When he didn't get a reply, he whirled around. Despite the severity of the situation, the Air Traffic Control Tower was dead silent. The eyes of everyone, from the various controllers and officers to the Colonel himself, drilling holes through the sweating man at the weather station. His mouth opened and shut, trying to find words.
In no mood for delay, Zenko stormed over and peered over his shoulder.
To his dismay, the screen was flickering, with data values that jumped all over the place as the modern computers struggled to interrupt what they were seeing. Though deep down he already knew what was coming, the confirmation chilled the blood in his veins.
"Red alert!" Instantly, the tower jumped into action. Sirens began to blare across the Misawa Air Base. Rushing back to the Windows, Zenko watched as the airstrip surged to life. Ironically, most of the men had been on the strip already watching the storm develop.
"Scramble interceptors!" Zenko felt the orders come instinctually. "Strike package Delta. Get that CAP in the air!"
As the initial rush of adrenaline faded, his focus sharpened and he forced himself to take a deep breath. Amidst the chaos around him, for a moment he was the eye of the storm, calm and collected. The JASDF had war-gamed this scenario for years; the procedures were in place for this very moment.
This was no time for panic; Japan itself was at stake.
Centered, he turned to the communication station. Though his voice rang above the clamor, he refrained from shouting. "Airman! Contact the Air Defence Command; the Aomori region is compromised. Abyssals to the North. No response from Rokkasho."
The countless hours of drills were taking effect. The noise level in the tower dropped considerably as men and women fell into their assigned roles like clockwork. Tension still hung in the air, but the momentum was building as the 3rd Air Wing ramped itself up into fighting shape once again.
The tarmac was a frenzy of activity, spurred on by the approaching storm. At one end of the runway, the QRF was undergoing final checks as the pilots rushed to the ladders of their refurbished F-4EJ Kai Phantoms. Meanwhile, more aircraft were being pulled from the hangers, the maintainers rushing to arm the fighters.
No missiles or bombs, just guns and ammo.
Ironic that modern military technology had to be scaled back or repealed altogether in the face of an enemy who, by all rights, should have been demolished the moment they engaged in hostilities. And it wasn't just technology, either; old skills needed to be brought back as well. Before this war, if someone had told Zenko that air superiority would come down to dogfighting he would have laughed in their face. And yet the Abyssals had rendered all their smart munitions and technology completely useless.
He resented them for it every day.
As the QRF continued to muster, Zenko's phone buzzed in his pocket, urgently. He almost ignored it, but then he remembered he had it set on silent. Only a few numbers were registered that would cause it to ring.
Sure enough, the incoming text was straight from Commander Gengyo himself. Short and to the point.
'Rokkasho compromised. Abyssal forces due east, fleet composition unknown, princess confirmed. Evac point at train station. Will attempt radio contact there. We have Kanmusu support; Battleship Musashi. Received?'
For a moment, Zenko stared at the message in disbelief. "When the hell did he get a battleship?"
Nonetheless, he shot back a quick confirmation, then grabbed a notepad and jotted down the message. "Pass this onto the ADC," he ordered, handing the missive off to the communication station.
Though he desperately wanted to pry the Navy twat for more info, there was no point. Gengyo had likely sent the text as a last resort, hoping that the Abyssal interference wasn't overpowering the cellular network.
The QRF had their engines hot and were taxiing onto the runway when the ground radar operator gasped.
"Sir, Abyssal signatures coming in fast, bearing 352!"
Blast, they had carriers, then!
Snatching up a pair of binoculars, Zenko focused on the growing storm; it was resembling a hurricane at this point. But against the swirling clouds, he could make out the approaching aircraft as specks against the sky. Although, there was something strange about them. The fighters appeared almost sickly: Their black metal was pitted and worn as if exposed to decades of rust before being painted over.
But he could make out underslung bombs and strange tubular canisters. They were heading right for the airfield.
The QRF was still taxiing; the first Phantom turning onto the runway at a dangerous speed. Clearly, the pilot had seen the threat too.
"Come on," Zenko muttered past gritted teeth. "Come on, come on."
Authorization was given and the Phantom blazed down the runway. At the same time, the anti-aircraft batteries on the outskirts of the air base roared to life. Tracers lit up the sky, but it was too little too late as the Abyssals made their true tactics known.
Rounds slammed into the approaching fighters, flak popping around them, sheering metal away from their wedge-shaped bodies. Those who emerged unscathed broke off for another pass. The ones struck, however, used another tactic.
Zenko watched the disaster play out as if it was in slow motion.
Those that were hit erupted into burning comets that then pointed their noses down and plummeted toward the runway. The Phantom never made it off the ground. An Abyssal crashed into it halfway, taking out both fighters in an explosion of flame. As the wreckage tumbled, it gouged a deep tear in the tarmac, rendering a large swath of the runway inoperable.
More burning comets struck, diving into the assembled QRF before they had a chance to fight back. Bombs and burning debris struck the ground, rendering the runway completely useless!
But Zenko's attention was monopolized by the burning plane streaking down toward the base of the tower. The explosion knocked him to the floor, striking his head on a console as he fell. He was mercifully out cold when the tower fell, taking him and his command staff with it.
Misawa Air Base had been neutralized.
"Den-sha Nor-riba!" The boom of thunder and artillery nearly drowned out William's shouts. "Den-sha Nor-riba!"
He was told it translated to 'train station.' Though to be honest, the people streaming past him didn't need his help for that, locals that they were. That didn't make his role any less vital, however.
Namely being the rock in a flood of panicked civilians.
The Abyssals were coming.
Whatever the hell an 'Abyssal' was.
Commander Gengyo had simply stated it as fact and failed to elaborate before rushing off. Details would have been nice, but judging from the panic that their mere presence inspired there wasn't time for a lengthy overview. What he could gleam, however, was not comforting. If their very presence alone could make an entire town run for their lives, he was dealing with something that went beyond the usual scope of terrorism.
"Den-sha Nor-riba! Come on, keep it moving!" He had no idea if anyone could understand him, but it didn't hurt to try.
People were rushing past him in droves. Hundreds had fled already and it felt like thousands more were coming. He knew most small towns had a population in the tens of thousands, but it never occurred to him just how many people that were!
As the bodies rushed past him, William saw one of them stumble and fall. When the figure didn't get back up, William cursed.
"Clear a path!" he roared, pushing through the fleeing mass towards the downed figure. And it was a good thing he had; the fallen civilian was easily pushing his eighties, holding the hand of a young boy who must have been his grandson. It was obvious the old man was having difficulties; he kept pawing at the ground, eyes flicking this way and that as the boy tried to pull him to his feet, tears running down his face as he shouted something – a name, maybe - over and over again.
A cane rolled away from the pair. Not a walking cane, but the extendable kind the blind used.
Ah hell.
Turning sharply, William snatched it up, scaring the crap out of a few people as the battleship forced them to veer out of the way. Stopping beside the struggling pair, William seized the elder's searching hand and pressed the cane into it. He instantly relaxed.
"Arigatō, dare-"
"Sir, I need you to stand up, right now." Gently grasping the man under the arms, William pulled him to his feet. The grandpa barely seemed to weigh anything, but he didn't appear to be hurt. Neither did his grandson, who was staring wide-eyed at the battleship.
"M-Musashi-sama?"
"So I've been told," William grumbled, guiding the old man away. "Come on, let's get you two out of here.
Gengyo's plan was simple. They couldn't fight, so evacuation of the town was their only priority.
At first glance, New Rokkasho wasn't an easy place to run from. It had been established in a bowl created by the surrounding mountains, covering it from all angles. On the west side of town was a row of mountains that shielded a valley on the other side. The problem was the lack of roads, both limiting the enemy's avenues of approach and the civilian's escape.
As Gengyo quickly explained; they couldn't go north, that would merely trap everyone against Japan's northernmost peninsula. To the east were the 'Abyssals', and going west through the mountains was out of the question. Unprepared people fleeing through mountainous terrain was a sure way to get them all killed.
That left only fleeing south; an option New Rokkasho was uniquely suited to accommodate.
The valley to the west was host to a railway, with the natural barrier between it and the Abyssals. The only way to the station was by a tunnel cut through the mountain. It was Gengyo's best bet for getting the town out alive. Get them all to the train station and evacuate from there.
Simple and to the point.
With William carving a path, the pair made it to the tunnel's entrance.
"Den-sha Nor-riba," William reiterated, passing off the old man's hand to his grandson before pointing. "Go."
As the pair hurried off, William took stock of the situation. Civilians were still running, artillery was still pounding, panicked faces rushing past him, the pounding of feet, the thunder of guns! For a moment, everything appeared two-dimensional. A flat picture of chaos that sucked him in. Coupled with the noise rebounding off the mountains and hills, filling the air with an overwhelming cacophony.
But he couldn't freeze up, not now. Focus.
Deep breath in, and exhale. Focus. What was his objective here?
Evacuate the people through the tunnel. Easy. How did he go about that? Even easier.
"Den-sha Nor-riba!" William found his voice, wadding forward through the press of bodies to take his place at the mouth of the tunnel. "Den-sha Nor-riba, keep it moving."
At least he didn't have to worry about traffic.
The intersection at the tunnel's mouth was clear. However, down the streets, he could make out pile-ups and collisions that blocked the roads. Evidently, people had tried to flee on wheels, but when everyone in town had the same idea, things quickly took a turn for the worst. That was probably the case all over town, forcing people to travel on foot.
"Clear a path!"
A number of stretchers, gurneys, and wheelchairs were coming down the street, pushed by doctors and nurses in scrubs. Thankfully this was one case where William's intervention wasn't needed. A fair number of people were slowing down and offering assistance, speeding the convoy of sick along. Nonetheless, William did what he could, clearing a path for them to the tunnel.
As they passed, William caught brief flashes of their expressions.
Fear, terror, as was to be expected. But surprisingly, there was also a prevailing sense of awe as they passed under the battleship's shadow.
Now that he thought about it, the same phenomenon had been happening throughout the whole evacuation. Though the tunnel gave the promise of safety, the people seemed more keen to get behind the battleship than anything else. Their panic noticeably calmed as soon as they passed him.
Whoever this Musashi character was, they must have been one hell of an inspiration. Or the Japanese were more accustomed to the Abyss than he thought.
Either way, the blatant admiration was weirding him out.
A crashing sound suddenly caught his attention. Down a street, a car was pushing through the deadlock, tearing apart its fender in the process. Rubber screeched as the vehicle broke free, nearly flattening a running family in the process. The driver was laying on the horn, but people weren't getting out of the way fast enough. The tires spun and the vehicle accelerated for the tunnel, dodging fleeing people left and right.
"You idiot!" William snarled, stepping into its headlights without thinking. "Stop your vehicle, NOW!"
Whether it was the shout or the guns, the vehicle skidded to a stop. Without giving them time to recover, William went over and threw the driver's door open. A pale, balding man gaped up at him.
"Are you trying to kill someone!?" William roared in his face. As the man stuttered, William reached over and undid his seatbelt, wrenching him out onto the street. "Den-sha Nor-riba! Go!"
Suddenly a wail came from the backseat. Whirling back, William saw a woman clutching a little girl strapped into a booster seat. The girl was crying and the woman was screaming a phrase over and over again. The man, meanwhile, tried to sneak back into the driver's seat.
William cursed. How stupid was this guy? The girl was damn near hysterical. He hated what he had to do, but a reckless driver would kill more people than these Abyssals right now!
Gritting his teeth, he reached in and released the girl from her restraints. The mother was sobbing now, ineffectually beating at his hands as he pulled the girl out and thrust her into the hands of her father.
"Den-sha Nor-riba!" William pointed at the tunnel, slamming the driver door shut before the man could make another dive for it. "Run! Now!"
Deciding that arguing with the big man with guns wasn't worth it, the father took off, holding his daughter tight. The mother jumped out and followed a second later without a backward glance.
As more artillery decimated the east end of town, the flow of people began to slow to a trickle. No one was taking attendance, so William could only hope that meant the town was evacuated. Any stragglers left behind... well, as much as he hated to say it, there wasn't much he could do for them.
Finally, Japanese servicemen and police appeared herding the last of the stragglers. There was a small spat; several servicemen pointed back frantically but were overruled by the others. Their job complete; the men began to rush past him into the tunnel, helping whoever they could along the way. But as more fled without telling him a thing, William began to grow concerned.
The last thing he wanted was to be left behind in this mess.
A flash of gold bars appeared, and William reached out and snagged a Lieutenant before he could run past. Thankfully, it was the same man who picked him up from the school. Language would not be a problem.
"What's going on?"
The man's face was pale, and he stuttered for a moment. "A-Almost everyone's out. We're missing one truck that went on a last run to pick up stragglers. Haven't you been listening to your radio?"
William gaped at him, then slapped his tac vest. "Does it look like I have a radio?!"
"But-"
Another shot shook the air and the road ahead detonated in a fountain of debris. As the smoke cleared, a truck skidded past on two wheels, just in time for a second explosion to erupt behind it. The vehicle was flung headlong into a house, crashing through the wall. That was the last straw for the poor abode. The roof collapsed, burying the front end of the truck in shingles and broken slats.
As the dust settled, William could just make out movement in the driver's window. The airbag had deployed, but pressed between it and the window was a hand, moving feebly.
But over the sound of distant explosions rose another sound; a metallic clanging, like a giant was slapping the ground with a tool chest. It was growing closer by the second.
The Lieutenant panicked, twisting out of William's grip and spiriting for the tunnel without so much as a backward glance at the men he had left behind. Likewise, William didn't waste breath calling him a coward as he raced forward.
The truck door opened and a bloodied man in uniform tumbled out. He screamed as he hit the ground, his arm flopping uselessly at his side. But his cries were almost entirely drowned out by the clanging, which sounded right on top of them.
Just as William was about to reach the downed serviceman, the house opposite exploded. But this time there was no fire or flame; just an explosion of wood and plaster as something large and horrific burst out.
It was larger than the truck; jet black with the body of an armored shark melded with a torpedo. There was no snout, only an enormous mouth filled with human-like incisors. Its embedded eyes glowed a malignant blue as the monster jumped for the truck, jaws open wide.
There was no time for William to arrest his forward momentum and even less time to think. In the heat of the moment, when on a collision course with a monster, he did what came naturally. With a roar, he launched his fist forward.
In hindsight, it was a stupid move. The thing looked like it weighed more than a semi, barrelling through the air like a demented bowling ball. His mortal strength would have done nothing, leaving him to be bowled over and crushed.
Except... that wasn't what happened.
His fist made contact with the creature's nose. For a brief moment, there was resistance. Its skin felt cold and damp like wet steel, before it caved in like tin foil. An ear-splitting crack rent the air, intermingled with the agonized groan of metal as the monster's momentum was arrested completely. Then his swing carried through, launching the monster into a house across the street. The building simply ceased to exist, turning into a cloud of dust and flying splinters.
William stared, dumbfounded, first at his fist, then the destruction he'd wrought. "What the hell?"
But there was no time to dwell on it. There was a guttural moan as the creature crawled out from the ruin. The side of its head resembled a blasted crater on the moon. And there was something else... a haze that silhouetted the creature. An afterimage that flickered in and out of focus.
It was so perplexing that it gave the creature enough time to pull itself from the rubble. Its mouth opened as if to roar in challenge, but instead of sound, the circular bore of a cannon emerged like a rancid tongue.
William instinctively ducked, just as the gun flashed. Flame and smoke billowed around him. Superheated gasses compressed his lungs, and a thundering crack rang in his ears as the round sailed over his shoulder. He heard it explode somewhere in the distance an instant later. It sounded far more powerful than its caliber suggested; a cannon going off right in his face.
And yet... he was still alive.
The overpressure should have killed him. Or at least knocked him senseless. How?
But all the technicalities were wiped away as his training took over.
He lunged forward. The barrel appeared out of the smoke as the creature charged to meet him. Clunking sounds echoed from inside it as the gun swiveled on hidden joints to reacquire its target. He batted it aside without thinking. Again, the impossible happened. The metal barrel warped under his blow, throwing the creature's head to the side and exposing its wound. William dug his fingers into the cracked flesh without mercy and pulled.
The creature howled, trying to escape, but the damage was already done. William's grip had found purchase and when it pulled away, its blunt-nosed head came loose with a sound of rending steel. As it tore free, William was blasted with a gust of frigid air, stinging his eyes. But he couldn't look away, even if he tried.
There was nothing red about this creature's insides at all. Its guts were a mind-boggling cross-section of metal struts, plating, and pipes, intermingled with tiny passages and rooms. There was just too much of it to fit inside the creature's body; his brain hurt just looking at it.
And it was still moving. Somehow beheading the damn thing wasn't enough.
Gritting his teeth, William shoved his hand deep into its internals. Like shoving his hand into a snowdrift; the thing was freezing internally. The only reason for that was if its generators, batteries, whatever were running hot. Sure enough, his probing fingers caught a hint of heat. He grabbed at it, fingers closing around a cylindrical part that burned at the touch. It shattered as he squeezed.
The monster shuddered and collapsed. Black oil, sparks, and what appeared to be boiling water sizzled from its wound. It was unmistakably mechanical; an amphibious drone the likes of which he had never seen before.
He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a damn crater blown out of the mountainside where the wayward shell had landed.
And that damned haze was still there, almost tugging on the hollowness inside him. For a moment, he heard the clamor of hundreds of voices, the clank of machinery, and an overwhelming sense of urgency as-
He looked away, gasping for air as the sensations faded. What the hell was happening to him? He could survive overpressure, tear steel with his bare hands... and the hollowness. It almost felt alive.
And the drone. What the hell was with the drone?! Had Skynet been unleashed, what?!
"Eight months," he panted, staggering back. "It's only been eight months!"
What the hell had he missed in eight months?!
Fighting back his dread, William hurried back to the downed man, who was desperately trying to crawl to safety. He scooped him up without thinking and sprinted into the tunnel. It should have been a challenge, but the serviceman felt as light as a feather. There was no denying his unnatural strength now. It was all becoming clear... his effortless walk across the ocean, the lack of fatigue, and now this?
What the hell had the Abyss done to him?
The tunnel ended abruptly and he burst into a wide parking lot, scaring the crap out of the guards posted at the entrance. Having a rocket launcher shoved in his face was not pleasant.
As for seeing the train station for the first time... well, to call it a proper station was generous. It was a single platform with a few adjoining buildings still under construction. The whole assembly appeared hastily built, clearly never designed to handle a swarm of refugees.
People crowded the single platform, overflowing into the parking lot. A line of servicemen held them back from the train which was already pulling out. Through the windows, William could make out the passengers, most of them kids and sick, packed in like sardines. They peered back at their parents and family, desperation written across their features. The noise as the train left the station was awful; a chorus of crying and angry shouts, furious at being left behind.
There was no second train to take its place.
William cursed. Gengyo better have a plan or they were all screwed.
A moan from his arms brought him back to the present. Right, take care of this guy first, then figure out what comes next.
A sudden shout drew William's eye. A short woman in uniform rushed up and began to fuss over the man in his arms. Words were exchanged, none of which he could understand, but the wounded man was able to reply in short, painful gasps.
As if something had been confirmed the woman nodded, then looked up at William. "Arigatō. Sā, kare o koko ni tsurete kite kudasai!"
"Ah, okay? But where do you want this guy?" William asked, but the woman had already grabbed his arm and was leading him towards one of the buildings. "Okay."
Dare he say it, but he should have watched more anime. The language barrier was growing more frustrating by the minute.
The woman slipped easily through the building's front entrance. There was no door, just an empty frame. The battleship, however, wasn't slim enough to do likewise. Masonry and wood splintered as William pushed through, the battleship forcibly widening the doorway considerably. It earned him plenty of looks, but they went ignored as he followed the woman to a corner where she and a few others were fanatically assembling a cot out of old pallets and tarp.
"Kare o soko ni nekasete," she pointed when it was ready. "Hoka ni arimasu ka?"
What was she going on about now, a MIST?
"Uh, his truck crashed into a building and the airbag deployed. Injuries are a broken arm, possible head injury, maybe a concussion," William rattled off, wincing as he lay the man down as gently as possible. The man cried out as his back touched the wood. "Sorry about this."
Holding his eyelids open, William checked the man's pupils. "Shit, uh, eyes are dilating, definitely concussed. No further treatment thus far, you got a splint handy?"
"Anata wa nani ni tsuite hanashite imasu ka?" The woman seemed to shake herself. "I'll take care of him. Commander Gengyo is asking for you. Over there." She pointed to a corner where half a dozen officers were leaning over a table.
Nodding, William hurried over, allowing the Lieutenant and a few of her underlings to tend to the wounded. While he didn't exactly barge into the ongoing conversation, the battleship was a hard accessory to ignore. Gengyo and his group paused to regard him, then continued their briefing as though nothing happened. A map was laid out on the table, the Commander almost whispering as he pointed out various landmarks with a pencil.
Finally, Gengyo straightened and the men ran on to complete whatever tasks had been assigned. Contrary to their first meeting, the Commander looked like a shell of his former self. Pale-faced and drawn. A pregnant pause stretched between them.
"Musashi..."
"Morgan," William corrected without thinking.
"Musashi!" Gengyo snapped back. "We need Musashi. Not a delusion!"
William scowled but didn't push the issue. Tensions were high enough already.
"Alright, then. What do you need… Musashi to do?"
The life seemed to drain from Gengyo's face as he leaned over the map. "I fear I have made an error of judgment. The railway was constructed in this valley to shield it from enemy observation and incoming fire. However, it has one weakness."
William couldn't help but frown. If it had been built for that reason, exactly how long had Japan been dealing with this?
Gengyo gravely tapped a point on the map. "Kanzaduro Bridge."
Fortunately, topography was one language William was fluent in. It was the first general overview of the situation he'd got so far, but what he saw didn't make their predicament any better.
"It spans the Nomura gorge," Gengyo explained, pointing at a water feature that cut across the valley. "The sides of which are too steep to climb without professional help. That bridge is our only way out."
"So have the people run across it."
"We will try. However, that makes everyone easy prey." Starting from the bridge, Gengyo's pencil followed the river down to where it flowed into the Pacific Ocean. "I believe the Abyssals will target the bridge at the first opportunity. They might not be able to climb the slope, but they will trap whoever remains on this side. The young, the old, and the sick have been evacuated, as many as we could... we can only hope they make it across before the Abyssals blow the bridge. The Kanmusu retrieval team is on its way, but I do not know how close they are... I do not believe we can count on their support."
"But you have a plan, right?"
It took a long moment for the Commander to reply. "It is more of a request."
A request? For what, from whom?
Confused, William examined the map again, checking if he had missed anything. No, the situation was exactly as Gengyo described, the only thing left to be addressed was... the tunnel.
...oh...
If the bridge was taken out, there would be only one way in.
The tunnel either had to be held or destroyed. Given that Gengyo had gone for the former he didn't have the means to facilitate the latter. It would take more than just a couple of rockets to collapse the tunnel. Hell, could it even be brought down? William wasn't an expert, but didn't Japan constantly suffer earthquakes and build accordingly? It would be a very poor tunnel if it couldn't take a rumble or two.
That left fending off the drones, which was when the pieces started to click together in his mind. Technically, as a member of a foreign military, Gengyo couldn't order him to do anything. He just was a volunteer in this operation.
Hence... a request.
The battleship weighed heavily on William's back as he leaned on the table for support. It didn't take a genius to guess what this 'request' was. Gengyo's eyes bored into him. He and every other resident who had laid eyes on the battleship. They knew. They might not have known the specifics... but they knew.
The unnatural strength... the resistance against overpressure... they knew.
It was why Gengyo had posted him at the mouth of the tunnel in the first place. It was why he was now being asked to retake his post.
It was a death sentence, they both knew it.
...and it was just so... fucking unfair!! Months spent in the Abyss, finally believing himself to be free, and now... this. He didn't ask for any of this! He didn't ask to become a fucking power ranger! He didn't ask for Gremlin! He didn't ask to be mistaken for this fucking Musashi guy! He didn't ask for anything other than to go home!
He took a shuddering breath.
It felt like a bad joke. Here, when he finally wanted to live again, he was asked to give it all up.
But... what choice did he have? Past the despair and hopelessness, past the bitter resentment at Gengyo for forcing the decision upon him, there was calm understanding.
He couldn't leave. Not here. Not now.
He was a soldier, first and foremost. No amount of suffering in the Abyss could change that. He had sworn the oath. He wore the uniform. He trained knowing full well that one day he might not come back. Unlimited Liability. It wasn't just about doing the right thing, it was his duty. An obligation that went far deeper than simply serving his country.
He enlisted wanting to protect. And now he was being called on by the highest authority of all to do his duty. He didn't know how or why Japan was dealing with killer drones, but thousands of lives were at stake regardless.
And he was the only one who could make a difference.
Isaiah 6:8. He always got tingles remembering that verse. Not this time. The words seemed to echo in the hollowness in his core, reminding him of what he'd suffered, what had been done to him, and what he was being asked to do.
What else could his answer be other than 'Here am I, Lord, send me.'
Mustering his courage, William straightened and pulled his dog tags out from his collar. He snapped the little plate in half with unnatural ease and passed the small piece of metal to Gengyo.
"On the slim chance I live, I'm gonna need that back." He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Dog tags are expensive... CAF can barely afford them. Among other things."
Gengyo nodded solemnly, ignoring the attempt at humor entirely. "Fair winds to you, Musashi."
"Morgan," William corrected, already heading for the door. "If I'm gonna die at least get my damn name right."
He missed Gengyo's response as he sprinted for the tunnel. He had wasted too much time here already.
"Desu?"
Gremlin was back, hanging onto his shoulder for dear life, but was oddly calm despite the circumstances.
"I think you better leave, buddy," William whispered, his voice steady despite his pace. "I don't think I'm walking out of this one. If you want off this sinking ship now's the time to say so."
"Desu." Instead of taking his offer, the little creature slapped a stub to its chest and nodded firmly. "Desu."
William snorted. "Well, you're not screaming, so I'll take that as a good sign."
Gremlin said nothing, but her round, little face was set in stone... and maybe even a small measure of pride.
"I'll see you on the other side, then. Kay?"
"Desu." With that parting word, Gremlin vanished back into the battleship.
The hollowness seemed to lurch inside him. William stumbled, pressing a hand to his gut as the sensation raced through him. He swore he heard alarms, distant cries of 'Desu', and the pounding of tiny feet.
"Gremlin, what did you just do?!"
General Quarters! General Quarters!
The bridge became a flurry of activity as the call went out. Whatever trash that remained was being thrown into corners where it was least likely to get in the way. Faeries raced to their action stations, ingrained skills kicking in as they prepared their vessel for war.
The Captain watched with a shrewd eye. There should be no need for her intervention unless something went drastically wrong. But despite the vandalism wrought on Musashi, the crew was prepared, well-trained, and above all, eager to prove themselves.
Japan itself was threatened.
And despite Musashi... himself... emerging from the annals of history like a disappointing, overcooked Wagyu steak, he did not shirk away from his duty. And despite knowing they were likely headed for certain death, facing an enemy fleet alone, the Captain couldn't help but beam with pride.
Yes, for all the stowaway tried to ruin their ship, they couldn't take away his resolve! The spirit of Musashi lived on!
Of course, there was the biggest issue!
Handing off command to her XO, the Captain made a quick call into the ship's intercom, then hurried deeper into the ship. Her requested personnel were already there waiting for her when she arrived at Primary Fire Control. They were just putting the analog computer back together, the technicians tossing away the offending tin with a cheer.
"Desu!" she snapped, getting everyone's attention. Musashi was still being obtuse, therefore they had to take matters into their own hands. They could not allow their ship to sink because of the damn stowaway's sabotage!
The Chief Engineer slapped a stub to her face for some reason.
Therefore, this is what they would do...
"Mama! Mama!" Chikae's small hands slapped against the window. On the platform, her parents hugged each other, held back from the train by a line of soldiers. "Mama!"
She was screaming to be heard over the clamor inside the train. Everyone was screaming and crying. Others just stared blankly out the window. Most of her classmates were there, but she hadn't seen Ogmai since school ended! She wished her best friend was there, she would know what to do!
"Mama!" She pounded against the glass, sobbing. "Come on, mama! Get on the train! Please get on the train! Please!"
But the soldiers wouldn't let them. Why were they doing this, she didn't understand! They were supposed to keep people safe so why weren't they letting them on the train?!
A body pushed against her, pressing her against the window. There were so many people crammed in the car, but they had to make room! Mama and Papa were still out there!
Then to her horror the train jolted and started to move, the station pulling away before her very eyes.
"No! Stop!" her cries were lost as the wailing in the cabin intensified. "Mama! Mama!!"
Her mama was weeping as she waved goodbye. And though she had never seen her papa cry before, now tears rolled down his cheeks. Though the noise was overwhelming, she saw his lips move; those familiar words he'd say whenever he left on business. 'Farewell, my beautiful cherry blossom.'
"PAPA!!"
And then they were gone, carried away as the train picked up speed. As the train left the station, however, Chikae saw the tunnel and the familiar rigging running out of it, carrying a man in his arms.
"Musashi-sama!" she screamed as the first shipboy stopped in the parking lot, looking bewildered. "Please save my mama and papa! Please!"
Whether he heard her or not, the train carried on into the forests, and the station, and everyone still on it, vanished from sight. Gradually, the noise began to die down, the screams replaced by quiet sobs and the occasional wail. So many loved ones had been left behind.
And though Chikae wanted to break down crying herself, she couldn't get the image of Musashi out of her mind.
"Musashi, please," she whimpered, "please save my mama and papa."
He was a Kanmusu. A spirit! He had to be listening! He had to! You just needed to believe; that's what Papa always said. And so she begged, pleading with the Kami and Musashi over and over again to keep her parents safe.
She just needed to believe!
The train turned a bend and Kanzaduro Bridge appeared ahead. But as they began to cross, screams suddenly erupted from the front, spreading down through the carriages towards the rear. As she was in the last carriage, it took a few moments for the sight to come into view. When it did, Chikae's scream joined the others.
There were Abyssals in the Nomura gorge below! Three of them!
Suddenly thunder boomed around them and the bridge shook violently. Chikae vaguely realized what was happening; they were destroying the bridge! With them still on it!
As if by magic, the train lurched as it suddenly put on speed, racing across the gap. The Abyssals fired again and Chikae felt the carriage drop! Even as the bridge threatened to crumble the train pushed on, the engine and front carriages clearing the gap.
Then one of the Abyssals looked up, its blue, soulless eyes locking onto the train. The panic around Chikae reached a frenzy as the Destroyer brought its head around, its guns swiveling to track the terrified children.
Chikae was frozen in terror, unable to do anything but watch.
The guns fired... right as a line of trees obscured it from view! The train had made it, pulling the final carriage safely out of sight. The rounds sailed past behind them, shaking the train with an ear-splitting crack, but ultimately doing no harm.
Behind them, Kanzaduro Bridge shuddered and then collapsed.
Chikae's heart sank. No... How was everyone else supposed to get out with the bridge gone? "Mama... papa..."
Please, Musashi, please. Save them...
EDIT Dec 11, 2023: Fixed grammar and spelling.
The storm had come out of nowhere, blooming into existence before his very eyes. There was only one possible explanation and he dearly hoped he was wrong.
"Nothing, sir!"
Damn.
"How's the weather radar reading this?" he asked next. When he didn't get a reply, he whirled around. Despite the severity of the situation, the Air Traffic Control Tower was dead silent. The eyes of everyone, from the various controllers and officers to the Colonel himself, drilling holes through the sweating man at the weather station. His mouth opened and shut, trying to find words.
In no mood for delay, Zenko stormed over and peered over his shoulder.
To his dismay, the screen was flickering, with data values that jumped all over the place as the modern computers struggled to interrupt what they were seeing. Though deep down he already knew what was coming, the confirmation chilled the blood in his veins.
"Red alert!" Instantly, the tower jumped into action. Sirens began to blare across the Misawa Air Base. Rushing back to the Windows, Zenko watched as the airstrip surged to life. Ironically, most of the men had been on the strip already watching the storm develop.
"Scramble interceptors!" Zenko felt the orders come instinctually. "Strike package Delta. Get that CAP in the air!"
As the initial rush of adrenaline faded, his focus sharpened and he forced himself to take a deep breath. Amidst the chaos around him, for a moment he was the eye of the storm, calm and collected. The JASDF had war-gamed this scenario for years; the procedures were in place for this very moment.
This was no time for panic; Japan itself was at stake.
Centered, he turned to the communication station. Though his voice rang above the clamor, he refrained from shouting. "Airman! Contact the Air Defence Command; the Aomori region is compromised. Abyssals to the North. No response from Rokkasho."
The countless hours of drills were taking effect. The noise level in the tower dropped considerably as men and women fell into their assigned roles like clockwork. Tension still hung in the air, but the momentum was building as the 3rd Air Wing ramped itself up into fighting shape once again.
The tarmac was a frenzy of activity, spurred on by the approaching storm. At one end of the runway, the QRF was undergoing final checks as the pilots rushed to the ladders of their refurbished F-4EJ Kai Phantoms. Meanwhile, more aircraft were being pulled from the hangers, the maintainers rushing to arm the fighters.
No missiles or bombs, just guns and ammo.
Ironic that modern military technology had to be scaled back or repealed altogether in the face of an enemy who, by all rights, should have been demolished the moment they engaged in hostilities. And it wasn't just technology, either; old skills needed to be brought back as well. Before this war, if someone had told Zenko that air superiority would come down to dogfighting he would have laughed in their face. And yet the Abyssals had rendered all their smart munitions and technology completely useless.
He resented them for it every day.
As the QRF continued to muster, Zenko's phone buzzed in his pocket, urgently. He almost ignored it, but then he remembered he had it set on silent. Only a few numbers were registered that would cause it to ring.
Sure enough, the incoming text was straight from Commander Gengyo himself. Short and to the point.
'Rokkasho compromised. Abyssal forces due east, fleet composition unknown, princess confirmed. Evac point at train station. Will attempt radio contact there. We have Kanmusu support; Battleship Musashi. Received?'
For a moment, Zenko stared at the message in disbelief. "When the hell did he get a battleship?"
Nonetheless, he shot back a quick confirmation, then grabbed a notepad and jotted down the message. "Pass this onto the ADC," he ordered, handing the missive off to the communication station.
Though he desperately wanted to pry the Navy twat for more info, there was no point. Gengyo had likely sent the text as a last resort, hoping that the Abyssal interference wasn't overpowering the cellular network.
The QRF had their engines hot and were taxiing onto the runway when the ground radar operator gasped.
"Sir, Abyssal signatures coming in fast, bearing 352!"
Blast, they had carriers, then!
Snatching up a pair of binoculars, Zenko focused on the growing storm; it was resembling a hurricane at this point. But against the swirling clouds, he could make out the approaching aircraft as specks against the sky. Although, there was something strange about them. The fighters appeared almost sickly: Their black metal was pitted and worn as if exposed to decades of rust before being painted over.
But he could make out underslung bombs and strange tubular canisters. They were heading right for the airfield.
The QRF was still taxiing; the first Phantom turning onto the runway at a dangerous speed. Clearly, the pilot had seen the threat too.
"Come on," Zenko muttered past gritted teeth. "Come on, come on."
Authorization was given and the Phantom blazed down the runway. At the same time, the anti-aircraft batteries on the outskirts of the air base roared to life. Tracers lit up the sky, but it was too little too late as the Abyssals made their true tactics known.
Rounds slammed into the approaching fighters, flak popping around them, sheering metal away from their wedge-shaped bodies. Those who emerged unscathed broke off for another pass. The ones struck, however, used another tactic.
Zenko watched the disaster play out as if it was in slow motion.
Those that were hit erupted into burning comets that then pointed their noses down and plummeted toward the runway. The Phantom never made it off the ground. An Abyssal crashed into it halfway, taking out both fighters in an explosion of flame. As the wreckage tumbled, it gouged a deep tear in the tarmac, rendering a large swath of the runway inoperable.
More burning comets struck, diving into the assembled QRF before they had a chance to fight back. Bombs and burning debris struck the ground, rendering the runway completely useless!
But Zenko's attention was monopolized by the burning plane streaking down toward the base of the tower. The explosion knocked him to the floor, striking his head on a console as he fell. He was mercifully out cold when the tower fell, taking him and his command staff with it.
Misawa Air Base had been neutralized.
----
"Den-sha Nor-riba!" The boom of thunder and artillery nearly drowned out William's shouts. "Den-sha Nor-riba!"
He was told it translated to 'train station.' Though to be honest, the people streaming past him didn't need his help for that, locals that they were. That didn't make his role any less vital, however.
Namely being the rock in a flood of panicked civilians.
The Abyssals were coming.
Whatever the hell an 'Abyssal' was.
Commander Gengyo had simply stated it as fact and failed to elaborate before rushing off. Details would have been nice, but judging from the panic that their mere presence inspired there wasn't time for a lengthy overview. What he could gleam, however, was not comforting. If their very presence alone could make an entire town run for their lives, he was dealing with something that went beyond the usual scope of terrorism.
"Den-sha Nor-riba! Come on, keep it moving!" He had no idea if anyone could understand him, but it didn't hurt to try.
People were rushing past him in droves. Hundreds had fled already and it felt like thousands more were coming. He knew most small towns had a population in the tens of thousands, but it never occurred to him just how many people that were!
As the bodies rushed past him, William saw one of them stumble and fall. When the figure didn't get back up, William cursed.
"Clear a path!" he roared, pushing through the fleeing mass towards the downed figure. And it was a good thing he had; the fallen civilian was easily pushing his eighties, holding the hand of a young boy who must have been his grandson. It was obvious the old man was having difficulties; he kept pawing at the ground, eyes flicking this way and that as the boy tried to pull him to his feet, tears running down his face as he shouted something – a name, maybe - over and over again.
A cane rolled away from the pair. Not a walking cane, but the extendable kind the blind used.
Ah hell.
Turning sharply, William snatched it up, scaring the crap out of a few people as the battleship forced them to veer out of the way. Stopping beside the struggling pair, William seized the elder's searching hand and pressed the cane into it. He instantly relaxed.
"Arigatō, dare-"
"Sir, I need you to stand up, right now." Gently grasping the man under the arms, William pulled him to his feet. The grandpa barely seemed to weigh anything, but he didn't appear to be hurt. Neither did his grandson, who was staring wide-eyed at the battleship.
"M-Musashi-sama?"
"So I've been told," William grumbled, guiding the old man away. "Come on, let's get you two out of here.
Gengyo's plan was simple. They couldn't fight, so evacuation of the town was their only priority.
At first glance, New Rokkasho wasn't an easy place to run from. It had been established in a bowl created by the surrounding mountains, covering it from all angles. On the west side of town was a row of mountains that shielded a valley on the other side. The problem was the lack of roads, both limiting the enemy's avenues of approach and the civilian's escape.
As Gengyo quickly explained; they couldn't go north, that would merely trap everyone against Japan's northernmost peninsula. To the east were the 'Abyssals', and going west through the mountains was out of the question. Unprepared people fleeing through mountainous terrain was a sure way to get them all killed.
That left only fleeing south; an option New Rokkasho was uniquely suited to accommodate.
The valley to the west was host to a railway, with the natural barrier between it and the Abyssals. The only way to the station was by a tunnel cut through the mountain. It was Gengyo's best bet for getting the town out alive. Get them all to the train station and evacuate from there.
Simple and to the point.
With William carving a path, the pair made it to the tunnel's entrance.
"Den-sha Nor-riba," William reiterated, passing off the old man's hand to his grandson before pointing. "Go."
As the pair hurried off, William took stock of the situation. Civilians were still running, artillery was still pounding, panicked faces rushing past him, the pounding of feet, the thunder of guns! For a moment, everything appeared two-dimensional. A flat picture of chaos that sucked him in. Coupled with the noise rebounding off the mountains and hills, filling the air with an overwhelming cacophony.
But he couldn't freeze up, not now. Focus.
Deep breath in, and exhale. Focus. What was his objective here?
Evacuate the people through the tunnel. Easy. How did he go about that? Even easier.
"Den-sha Nor-riba!" William found his voice, wadding forward through the press of bodies to take his place at the mouth of the tunnel. "Den-sha Nor-riba, keep it moving."
At least he didn't have to worry about traffic.
The intersection at the tunnel's mouth was clear. However, down the streets, he could make out pile-ups and collisions that blocked the roads. Evidently, people had tried to flee on wheels, but when everyone in town had the same idea, things quickly took a turn for the worst. That was probably the case all over town, forcing people to travel on foot.
"Clear a path!"
A number of stretchers, gurneys, and wheelchairs were coming down the street, pushed by doctors and nurses in scrubs. Thankfully this was one case where William's intervention wasn't needed. A fair number of people were slowing down and offering assistance, speeding the convoy of sick along. Nonetheless, William did what he could, clearing a path for them to the tunnel.
As they passed, William caught brief flashes of their expressions.
Fear, terror, as was to be expected. But surprisingly, there was also a prevailing sense of awe as they passed under the battleship's shadow.
Now that he thought about it, the same phenomenon had been happening throughout the whole evacuation. Though the tunnel gave the promise of safety, the people seemed more keen to get behind the battleship than anything else. Their panic noticeably calmed as soon as they passed him.
Whoever this Musashi character was, they must have been one hell of an inspiration. Or the Japanese were more accustomed to the Abyss than he thought.
Either way, the blatant admiration was weirding him out.
A crashing sound suddenly caught his attention. Down a street, a car was pushing through the deadlock, tearing apart its fender in the process. Rubber screeched as the vehicle broke free, nearly flattening a running family in the process. The driver was laying on the horn, but people weren't getting out of the way fast enough. The tires spun and the vehicle accelerated for the tunnel, dodging fleeing people left and right.
"You idiot!" William snarled, stepping into its headlights without thinking. "Stop your vehicle, NOW!"
Whether it was the shout or the guns, the vehicle skidded to a stop. Without giving them time to recover, William went over and threw the driver's door open. A pale, balding man gaped up at him.
"Are you trying to kill someone!?" William roared in his face. As the man stuttered, William reached over and undid his seatbelt, wrenching him out onto the street. "Den-sha Nor-riba! Go!"
Suddenly a wail came from the backseat. Whirling back, William saw a woman clutching a little girl strapped into a booster seat. The girl was crying and the woman was screaming a phrase over and over again. The man, meanwhile, tried to sneak back into the driver's seat.
William cursed. How stupid was this guy? The girl was damn near hysterical. He hated what he had to do, but a reckless driver would kill more people than these Abyssals right now!
Gritting his teeth, he reached in and released the girl from her restraints. The mother was sobbing now, ineffectually beating at his hands as he pulled the girl out and thrust her into the hands of her father.
"Den-sha Nor-riba!" William pointed at the tunnel, slamming the driver door shut before the man could make another dive for it. "Run! Now!"
Deciding that arguing with the big man with guns wasn't worth it, the father took off, holding his daughter tight. The mother jumped out and followed a second later without a backward glance.
As more artillery decimated the east end of town, the flow of people began to slow to a trickle. No one was taking attendance, so William could only hope that meant the town was evacuated. Any stragglers left behind... well, as much as he hated to say it, there wasn't much he could do for them.
Finally, Japanese servicemen and police appeared herding the last of the stragglers. There was a small spat; several servicemen pointed back frantically but were overruled by the others. Their job complete; the men began to rush past him into the tunnel, helping whoever they could along the way. But as more fled without telling him a thing, William began to grow concerned.
The last thing he wanted was to be left behind in this mess.
A flash of gold bars appeared, and William reached out and snagged a Lieutenant before he could run past. Thankfully, it was the same man who picked him up from the school. Language would not be a problem.
"What's going on?"
The man's face was pale, and he stuttered for a moment. "A-Almost everyone's out. We're missing one truck that went on a last run to pick up stragglers. Haven't you been listening to your radio?"
William gaped at him, then slapped his tac vest. "Does it look like I have a radio?!"
"But-"
Another shot shook the air and the road ahead detonated in a fountain of debris. As the smoke cleared, a truck skidded past on two wheels, just in time for a second explosion to erupt behind it. The vehicle was flung headlong into a house, crashing through the wall. That was the last straw for the poor abode. The roof collapsed, burying the front end of the truck in shingles and broken slats.
As the dust settled, William could just make out movement in the driver's window. The airbag had deployed, but pressed between it and the window was a hand, moving feebly.
But over the sound of distant explosions rose another sound; a metallic clanging, like a giant was slapping the ground with a tool chest. It was growing closer by the second.
The Lieutenant panicked, twisting out of William's grip and spiriting for the tunnel without so much as a backward glance at the men he had left behind. Likewise, William didn't waste breath calling him a coward as he raced forward.
The truck door opened and a bloodied man in uniform tumbled out. He screamed as he hit the ground, his arm flopping uselessly at his side. But his cries were almost entirely drowned out by the clanging, which sounded right on top of them.
Just as William was about to reach the downed serviceman, the house opposite exploded. But this time there was no fire or flame; just an explosion of wood and plaster as something large and horrific burst out.
It was larger than the truck; jet black with the body of an armored shark melded with a torpedo. There was no snout, only an enormous mouth filled with human-like incisors. Its embedded eyes glowed a malignant blue as the monster jumped for the truck, jaws open wide.
There was no time for William to arrest his forward momentum and even less time to think. In the heat of the moment, when on a collision course with a monster, he did what came naturally. With a roar, he launched his fist forward.
In hindsight, it was a stupid move. The thing looked like it weighed more than a semi, barrelling through the air like a demented bowling ball. His mortal strength would have done nothing, leaving him to be bowled over and crushed.
Except... that wasn't what happened.
His fist made contact with the creature's nose. For a brief moment, there was resistance. Its skin felt cold and damp like wet steel, before it caved in like tin foil. An ear-splitting crack rent the air, intermingled with the agonized groan of metal as the monster's momentum was arrested completely. Then his swing carried through, launching the monster into a house across the street. The building simply ceased to exist, turning into a cloud of dust and flying splinters.
William stared, dumbfounded, first at his fist, then the destruction he'd wrought. "What the hell?"
But there was no time to dwell on it. There was a guttural moan as the creature crawled out from the ruin. The side of its head resembled a blasted crater on the moon. And there was something else... a haze that silhouetted the creature. An afterimage that flickered in and out of focus.
It was so perplexing that it gave the creature enough time to pull itself from the rubble. Its mouth opened as if to roar in challenge, but instead of sound, the circular bore of a cannon emerged like a rancid tongue.
William instinctively ducked, just as the gun flashed. Flame and smoke billowed around him. Superheated gasses compressed his lungs, and a thundering crack rang in his ears as the round sailed over his shoulder. He heard it explode somewhere in the distance an instant later. It sounded far more powerful than its caliber suggested; a cannon going off right in his face.
And yet... he was still alive.
The overpressure should have killed him. Or at least knocked him senseless. How?
But all the technicalities were wiped away as his training took over.
He lunged forward. The barrel appeared out of the smoke as the creature charged to meet him. Clunking sounds echoed from inside it as the gun swiveled on hidden joints to reacquire its target. He batted it aside without thinking. Again, the impossible happened. The metal barrel warped under his blow, throwing the creature's head to the side and exposing its wound. William dug his fingers into the cracked flesh without mercy and pulled.
The creature howled, trying to escape, but the damage was already done. William's grip had found purchase and when it pulled away, its blunt-nosed head came loose with a sound of rending steel. As it tore free, William was blasted with a gust of frigid air, stinging his eyes. But he couldn't look away, even if he tried.
There was nothing red about this creature's insides at all. Its guts were a mind-boggling cross-section of metal struts, plating, and pipes, intermingled with tiny passages and rooms. There was just too much of it to fit inside the creature's body; his brain hurt just looking at it.
And it was still moving. Somehow beheading the damn thing wasn't enough.
Gritting his teeth, William shoved his hand deep into its internals. Like shoving his hand into a snowdrift; the thing was freezing internally. The only reason for that was if its generators, batteries, whatever were running hot. Sure enough, his probing fingers caught a hint of heat. He grabbed at it, fingers closing around a cylindrical part that burned at the touch. It shattered as he squeezed.
The monster shuddered and collapsed. Black oil, sparks, and what appeared to be boiling water sizzled from its wound. It was unmistakably mechanical; an amphibious drone the likes of which he had never seen before.
He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a damn crater blown out of the mountainside where the wayward shell had landed.
And that damned haze was still there, almost tugging on the hollowness inside him. For a moment, he heard the clamor of hundreds of voices, the clank of machinery, and an overwhelming sense of urgency as-
He looked away, gasping for air as the sensations faded. What the hell was happening to him? He could survive overpressure, tear steel with his bare hands... and the hollowness. It almost felt alive.
And the drone. What the hell was with the drone?! Had Skynet been unleashed, what?!
"Eight months," he panted, staggering back. "It's only been eight months!"
What the hell had he missed in eight months?!
Fighting back his dread, William hurried back to the downed man, who was desperately trying to crawl to safety. He scooped him up without thinking and sprinted into the tunnel. It should have been a challenge, but the serviceman felt as light as a feather. There was no denying his unnatural strength now. It was all becoming clear... his effortless walk across the ocean, the lack of fatigue, and now this?
What the hell had the Abyss done to him?
The tunnel ended abruptly and he burst into a wide parking lot, scaring the crap out of the guards posted at the entrance. Having a rocket launcher shoved in his face was not pleasant.
As for seeing the train station for the first time... well, to call it a proper station was generous. It was a single platform with a few adjoining buildings still under construction. The whole assembly appeared hastily built, clearly never designed to handle a swarm of refugees.
People crowded the single platform, overflowing into the parking lot. A line of servicemen held them back from the train which was already pulling out. Through the windows, William could make out the passengers, most of them kids and sick, packed in like sardines. They peered back at their parents and family, desperation written across their features. The noise as the train left the station was awful; a chorus of crying and angry shouts, furious at being left behind.
There was no second train to take its place.
William cursed. Gengyo better have a plan or they were all screwed.
A moan from his arms brought him back to the present. Right, take care of this guy first, then figure out what comes next.
A sudden shout drew William's eye. A short woman in uniform rushed up and began to fuss over the man in his arms. Words were exchanged, none of which he could understand, but the wounded man was able to reply in short, painful gasps.
As if something had been confirmed the woman nodded, then looked up at William. "Arigatō. Sā, kare o koko ni tsurete kite kudasai!"
"Ah, okay? But where do you want this guy?" William asked, but the woman had already grabbed his arm and was leading him towards one of the buildings. "Okay."
Dare he say it, but he should have watched more anime. The language barrier was growing more frustrating by the minute.
The woman slipped easily through the building's front entrance. There was no door, just an empty frame. The battleship, however, wasn't slim enough to do likewise. Masonry and wood splintered as William pushed through, the battleship forcibly widening the doorway considerably. It earned him plenty of looks, but they went ignored as he followed the woman to a corner where she and a few others were fanatically assembling a cot out of old pallets and tarp.
"Kare o soko ni nekasete," she pointed when it was ready. "Hoka ni arimasu ka?"
What was she going on about now, a MIST?
"Uh, his truck crashed into a building and the airbag deployed. Injuries are a broken arm, possible head injury, maybe a concussion," William rattled off, wincing as he lay the man down as gently as possible. The man cried out as his back touched the wood. "Sorry about this."
Holding his eyelids open, William checked the man's pupils. "Shit, uh, eyes are dilating, definitely concussed. No further treatment thus far, you got a splint handy?"
"Anata wa nani ni tsuite hanashite imasu ka?" The woman seemed to shake herself. "I'll take care of him. Commander Gengyo is asking for you. Over there." She pointed to a corner where half a dozen officers were leaning over a table.
Nodding, William hurried over, allowing the Lieutenant and a few of her underlings to tend to the wounded. While he didn't exactly barge into the ongoing conversation, the battleship was a hard accessory to ignore. Gengyo and his group paused to regard him, then continued their briefing as though nothing happened. A map was laid out on the table, the Commander almost whispering as he pointed out various landmarks with a pencil.
Finally, Gengyo straightened and the men ran on to complete whatever tasks had been assigned. Contrary to their first meeting, the Commander looked like a shell of his former self. Pale-faced and drawn. A pregnant pause stretched between them.
"Musashi..."
"Morgan," William corrected without thinking.
"Musashi!" Gengyo snapped back. "We need Musashi. Not a delusion!"
William scowled but didn't push the issue. Tensions were high enough already.
"Alright, then. What do you need… Musashi to do?"
The life seemed to drain from Gengyo's face as he leaned over the map. "I fear I have made an error of judgment. The railway was constructed in this valley to shield it from enemy observation and incoming fire. However, it has one weakness."
William couldn't help but frown. If it had been built for that reason, exactly how long had Japan been dealing with this?
Gengyo gravely tapped a point on the map. "Kanzaduro Bridge."
Fortunately, topography was one language William was fluent in. It was the first general overview of the situation he'd got so far, but what he saw didn't make their predicament any better.
"It spans the Nomura gorge," Gengyo explained, pointing at a water feature that cut across the valley. "The sides of which are too steep to climb without professional help. That bridge is our only way out."
"So have the people run across it."
"We will try. However, that makes everyone easy prey." Starting from the bridge, Gengyo's pencil followed the river down to where it flowed into the Pacific Ocean. "I believe the Abyssals will target the bridge at the first opportunity. They might not be able to climb the slope, but they will trap whoever remains on this side. The young, the old, and the sick have been evacuated, as many as we could... we can only hope they make it across before the Abyssals blow the bridge. The Kanmusu retrieval team is on its way, but I do not know how close they are... I do not believe we can count on their support."
"But you have a plan, right?"
It took a long moment for the Commander to reply. "It is more of a request."
A request? For what, from whom?
Confused, William examined the map again, checking if he had missed anything. No, the situation was exactly as Gengyo described, the only thing left to be addressed was... the tunnel.
...oh...
If the bridge was taken out, there would be only one way in.
The tunnel either had to be held or destroyed. Given that Gengyo had gone for the former he didn't have the means to facilitate the latter. It would take more than just a couple of rockets to collapse the tunnel. Hell, could it even be brought down? William wasn't an expert, but didn't Japan constantly suffer earthquakes and build accordingly? It would be a very poor tunnel if it couldn't take a rumble or two.
That left fending off the drones, which was when the pieces started to click together in his mind. Technically, as a member of a foreign military, Gengyo couldn't order him to do anything. He just was a volunteer in this operation.
Hence... a request.
The battleship weighed heavily on William's back as he leaned on the table for support. It didn't take a genius to guess what this 'request' was. Gengyo's eyes bored into him. He and every other resident who had laid eyes on the battleship. They knew. They might not have known the specifics... but they knew.
The unnatural strength... the resistance against overpressure... they knew.
It was why Gengyo had posted him at the mouth of the tunnel in the first place. It was why he was now being asked to retake his post.
It was a death sentence, they both knew it.
...and it was just so... fucking unfair!! Months spent in the Abyss, finally believing himself to be free, and now... this. He didn't ask for any of this! He didn't ask to become a fucking power ranger! He didn't ask for Gremlin! He didn't ask to be mistaken for this fucking Musashi guy! He didn't ask for anything other than to go home!
He took a shuddering breath.
It felt like a bad joke. Here, when he finally wanted to live again, he was asked to give it all up.
But... what choice did he have? Past the despair and hopelessness, past the bitter resentment at Gengyo for forcing the decision upon him, there was calm understanding.
He couldn't leave. Not here. Not now.
He was a soldier, first and foremost. No amount of suffering in the Abyss could change that. He had sworn the oath. He wore the uniform. He trained knowing full well that one day he might not come back. Unlimited Liability. It wasn't just about doing the right thing, it was his duty. An obligation that went far deeper than simply serving his country.
He enlisted wanting to protect. And now he was being called on by the highest authority of all to do his duty. He didn't know how or why Japan was dealing with killer drones, but thousands of lives were at stake regardless.
And he was the only one who could make a difference.
Isaiah 6:8. He always got tingles remembering that verse. Not this time. The words seemed to echo in the hollowness in his core, reminding him of what he'd suffered, what had been done to him, and what he was being asked to do.
What else could his answer be other than 'Here am I, Lord, send me.'
Mustering his courage, William straightened and pulled his dog tags out from his collar. He snapped the little plate in half with unnatural ease and passed the small piece of metal to Gengyo.
"On the slim chance I live, I'm gonna need that back." He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Dog tags are expensive... CAF can barely afford them. Among other things."
Gengyo nodded solemnly, ignoring the attempt at humor entirely. "Fair winds to you, Musashi."
"Morgan," William corrected, already heading for the door. "If I'm gonna die at least get my damn name right."
He missed Gengyo's response as he sprinted for the tunnel. He had wasted too much time here already.
"Desu?"
Gremlin was back, hanging onto his shoulder for dear life, but was oddly calm despite the circumstances.
"I think you better leave, buddy," William whispered, his voice steady despite his pace. "I don't think I'm walking out of this one. If you want off this sinking ship now's the time to say so."
"Desu." Instead of taking his offer, the little creature slapped a stub to its chest and nodded firmly. "Desu."
William snorted. "Well, you're not screaming, so I'll take that as a good sign."
Gremlin said nothing, but her round, little face was set in stone... and maybe even a small measure of pride.
"I'll see you on the other side, then. Kay?"
"Desu." With that parting word, Gremlin vanished back into the battleship.
The hollowness seemed to lurch inside him. William stumbled, pressing a hand to his gut as the sensation raced through him. He swore he heard alarms, distant cries of 'Desu', and the pounding of tiny feet.
"Gremlin, what did you just do?!"
----
General Quarters! General Quarters!
The bridge became a flurry of activity as the call went out. Whatever trash that remained was being thrown into corners where it was least likely to get in the way. Faeries raced to their action stations, ingrained skills kicking in as they prepared their vessel for war.
The Captain watched with a shrewd eye. There should be no need for her intervention unless something went drastically wrong. But despite the vandalism wrought on Musashi, the crew was prepared, well-trained, and above all, eager to prove themselves.
Japan itself was threatened.
And despite Musashi... himself... emerging from the annals of history like a disappointing, overcooked Wagyu steak, he did not shirk away from his duty. And despite knowing they were likely headed for certain death, facing an enemy fleet alone, the Captain couldn't help but beam with pride.
Yes, for all the stowaway tried to ruin their ship, they couldn't take away his resolve! The spirit of Musashi lived on!
Of course, there was the biggest issue!
Handing off command to her XO, the Captain made a quick call into the ship's intercom, then hurried deeper into the ship. Her requested personnel were already there waiting for her when she arrived at Primary Fire Control. They were just putting the analog computer back together, the technicians tossing away the offending tin with a cheer.
"Desu!" she snapped, getting everyone's attention. Musashi was still being obtuse, therefore they had to take matters into their own hands. They could not allow their ship to sink because of the damn stowaway's sabotage!
The Chief Engineer slapped a stub to her face for some reason.
Therefore, this is what they would do...
----
"Mama! Mama!" Chikae's small hands slapped against the window. On the platform, her parents hugged each other, held back from the train by a line of soldiers. "Mama!"
She was screaming to be heard over the clamor inside the train. Everyone was screaming and crying. Others just stared blankly out the window. Most of her classmates were there, but she hadn't seen Ogmai since school ended! She wished her best friend was there, she would know what to do!
"Mama!" She pounded against the glass, sobbing. "Come on, mama! Get on the train! Please get on the train! Please!"
But the soldiers wouldn't let them. Why were they doing this, she didn't understand! They were supposed to keep people safe so why weren't they letting them on the train?!
A body pushed against her, pressing her against the window. There were so many people crammed in the car, but they had to make room! Mama and Papa were still out there!
Then to her horror the train jolted and started to move, the station pulling away before her very eyes.
"No! Stop!" her cries were lost as the wailing in the cabin intensified. "Mama! Mama!!"
Her mama was weeping as she waved goodbye. And though she had never seen her papa cry before, now tears rolled down his cheeks. Though the noise was overwhelming, she saw his lips move; those familiar words he'd say whenever he left on business. 'Farewell, my beautiful cherry blossom.'
"PAPA!!"
And then they were gone, carried away as the train picked up speed. As the train left the station, however, Chikae saw the tunnel and the familiar rigging running out of it, carrying a man in his arms.
"Musashi-sama!" she screamed as the first shipboy stopped in the parking lot, looking bewildered. "Please save my mama and papa! Please!"
Whether he heard her or not, the train carried on into the forests, and the station, and everyone still on it, vanished from sight. Gradually, the noise began to die down, the screams replaced by quiet sobs and the occasional wail. So many loved ones had been left behind.
And though Chikae wanted to break down crying herself, she couldn't get the image of Musashi out of her mind.
"Musashi, please," she whimpered, "please save my mama and papa."
He was a Kanmusu. A spirit! He had to be listening! He had to! You just needed to believe; that's what Papa always said. And so she begged, pleading with the Kami and Musashi over and over again to keep her parents safe.
She just needed to believe!
The train turned a bend and Kanzaduro Bridge appeared ahead. But as they began to cross, screams suddenly erupted from the front, spreading down through the carriages towards the rear. As she was in the last carriage, it took a few moments for the sight to come into view. When it did, Chikae's scream joined the others.
There were Abyssals in the Nomura gorge below! Three of them!
Suddenly thunder boomed around them and the bridge shook violently. Chikae vaguely realized what was happening; they were destroying the bridge! With them still on it!
As if by magic, the train lurched as it suddenly put on speed, racing across the gap. The Abyssals fired again and Chikae felt the carriage drop! Even as the bridge threatened to crumble the train pushed on, the engine and front carriages clearing the gap.
Then one of the Abyssals looked up, its blue, soulless eyes locking onto the train. The panic around Chikae reached a frenzy as the Destroyer brought its head around, its guns swiveling to track the terrified children.
Chikae was frozen in terror, unable to do anything but watch.
The guns fired... right as a line of trees obscured it from view! The train had made it, pulling the final carriage safely out of sight. The rounds sailed past behind them, shaking the train with an ear-splitting crack, but ultimately doing no harm.
Behind them, Kanzaduro Bridge shuddered and then collapsed.
Chikae's heart sank. No... How was everyone else supposed to get out with the bridge gone? "Mama... papa..."
Please, Musashi, please. Save them...
Whoo! That took an effort and a bit to get done, but here it is, chapter 10 at long last! I know a lot of people will be disappointed I've broken it up into parts, but I do have a surprise for you. The entire battle is already written out. Over 27k words in four parts, including this one, that I will be rolling out over the course of the next week or two.
Alternatively, the entire thing is posted up my KO-FI if you want to read it ahead of schedule. Link is in my signature.
Alternatively, the entire thing is posted up my KO-FI if you want to read it ahead of schedule. Link is in my signature.
"Arigatō, dare-"
"Thank you, who-"
-
As if something had been confirmed the woman nodded, then looked up at William. "Arigatō. Sā, kare o koko ni tsurete kite kudasai!"
"Thank you. Now bring him over here, please!"
-
"Kare o soko ni nekasete," she pointed when it was ready. "Hoka ni arimasu ka?"
"Lay him there" / "are there any others?"
-
"Anata wa nani ni tsuite hanashite imasu ka?" The woman seemed to shake herself.
"What are you talking about?"
"Thank you, who-"
-
As if something had been confirmed the woman nodded, then looked up at William. "Arigatō. Sā, kare o koko ni tsurete kite kudasai!"
"Thank you. Now bring him over here, please!"
-
"Kare o soko ni nekasete," she pointed when it was ready. "Hoka ni arimasu ka?"
"Lay him there" / "are there any others?"
-
"Anata wa nani ni tsuite hanashite imasu ka?" The woman seemed to shake herself.
"What are you talking about?"
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Chapter 10.5: Nomura Gorge
A boom echoed throughout the valley. Petty Officer Naomichi held his breath as he paused to listen. There it was again. Not drifting over the top of the mountain, but echoing up through the valley. South. It was coming from the south.
Hastily, he ripped out a notepad and wrote down a series of messages. Tearing the pages free, he handed them to Lieutenant Yura. "From the Commander. Remember, as high as you can go until you make contact with Kanmusu, relay his instructions." Then he leaned into the Lieutenant's ear so only she could hear and whispered. "Also from Gengyo... if the Abyssals break through, run. Don't try to come back for us. Escape and evade until help arrives. Understood?"
He pressed another note into her hand; the Commander's signed orders to escape should the worst come to pass.
Lieutenant Yura nodded, shakily, slipping the notes into a pocket. Though she had been taught by the best, nothing truly prepared you for the real deal. Pale-faced, she barely managed to relay orders to her motley group without stammering. The team hefted their bags, carrying the radio equipment they'd been able to salvage from the HQ before it was reduced to rubble, and disappeared into the woods.
With that, Naomichi sprinted for the incomplete station, jumping over train tracks and dodging around frightened groups of people. Everyone was looking south, hearing the explosions same as him. He could only hope it didn't start a panic. That would only do the Abyssal's job for them.
"The radio team is away!" he panted, bursting into the half-finished building and skidded to a stop beside Gengyo. "Did you hear the explosion?"
"I did," the Commander said tightly. Reluctantly, he scratched out the bridge icon on his map with a pencil. "So... evacuation via the bridge is no longer open to us."
"Did the train at least make it across?"
"I do not know." The response was little more than a whisper. Both men knew it was a long shot, but if even a fraction of lives could be saved, it was worth the risk. Though he hoped for the best, Naomichi couldn't help but imagine they'd sent thousands to their deaths.
"Shit," he hissed, quietly. "Okay, so what options do we have left?"
"Very few, I'm afraid. The only advantage we have is that the mountains prevent the Abyssals from shelling us. They would have to withdraw to the ocean for a good enough firing angle."
"Small comfort."
Nodding tightly, Gengyo tossed his phone onto the desk with a series of text messages on the screen. "I did manage to make contact with Misawa before the Abyssal interference cut me off. They are aware of our predicament... if nothing else."
Naomichi frowned, confused. "If nothing else?"
"That was more than fifteen minutes ago. We should have received air cover by now. My best guess is that carriers are in play. They must have got to the airfield before they could muster, that is the only explanation. Whatever air support we get will have to come from further inland, and it'll take time we don't have. No... we're on our own until the Kanmusu team arrives."
Gengyo's shoulders sagged for a fraction of a second before he pulled himself together. "We have to scatter the people into the woods. They'll be easy targets clustered around the station if the Abyssals break through. The more time they spend hunting individual groups is more time we have to escape. I sent out teams to try and find a way over the west side of the valley. I didn't want to pit the people against the wilderness, but we have no other choice."
"That's risky," Naomichi noted.
"It is risky either way!" the Commander snapped. "We either find a path for them to run or hold them here like a Sushi bar. Our mission is to save as many people as possible and by God I'll do it! All we need now is time."
He pointed at the map. "Musashi has agreed to hold the tunnel. I do not know how long that buys us but we shall not waste it. In the meantime," he jabbed at the scratched-out bridge. "I'm not dismissing the possibility that Abyssals can't reach us from this side. Take as many men as necessary and keep them off that slope."
"Got it," Naomichi replied, wondering exactly how the hell he was going to do that. They were Abyssals. What was he going to do, push them off?
Oh!
"I'll need the Eighty-Four."
"Take whatever you need, it won't help us here. Moreover, if the Abyssals break through, do not try to come back for us. I will save as many lives today as I can." The Commander reached out and shook his hand with a fierce intensity. "If this is the last time we meet, I'm honored to have served beside you."
"The honor is mine, buddy," Naomichi replied, then both men rushed out of the building. Gengyo ran off to corral the teaming mass of civilians. Naomichi wished him luck, but right then he was trying to remember one face in particular.
The Eighty-Four, who was their best gunner on the Eighty-Four? He knew they had a good shot here, he'd presented a marksmanship award to the guy a year ago, now if only he could remember his damn name-
"Ezian!" It came rushing back in a flash, and he hollered at the top of his lungs. He hoped the man hadn't gone looking for a trail. "Private Ezian! Where are you?"
"Hai, sir!" the shout came from the entrance to the tunnel where a number of men were posted as guards. Though Naomichi hated to admit it, at this point it was only a ploy to provide some illusion of security for the civilians.
And there was Ezian as the front, Eighty-Four shouldered and pointed down range. Perfect!
"Ammo?" Naomichi gasped as he sprinted up. "How much ammo did we manage to save?"
"As much as we could."
"Numbers, man!" Naomichi snapped. Ezian jumped, lips moving silently as he looked over the side of the road.
"Eight, sir. High explosive. Along with, uh... five bandoleers for the RPGs, twenty-five in total. Over there." He jerked his head in their direction and Naomichi rushed over to see for himself.
Sure enough, it was just as the Private had said. Next, he took stock of his men. Ezian and three others; two with RPGs, the last acting as the Eighty-Four's loader.
It would have to do.
"Alright, you four are coming with me. Pack up!"
Ezian's loader blanched. "But, sir, the tunnel-"
"If Musashi can't hold it, there's not a snowball's chance in hell you can!" Naomichi snapped again. They were short on time and the back talk was getting on his nerves. Grabbing one of the 84mm canisters, he threw it over his back.
Agh, how he hated the canisters. Training with the SRAAW had become mandatory for the Navy after Blood Week. The Carl-G 84mm was essentially a metal tube that weighed over six kilograms. And however much people complained about it - heaven forbid they would ever have to face an Abyssal on foot - that tube was still capable of putting a hole in a Destroyer. Naomichi could certainly attest to that.
That didn't make carrying the thing any less of a hassle. The rounds were about ten kilograms each and came in canisters of two. They were heavy, awkward, and the carrying straps that came with the canisters were more painful to use than anything else.
The qualifying test for the Eighty-Four was a four-hundred-meter dash carrying the tube and two spare rounds. At the finish line, you fired off both shots at a target then dashed back. The same hit-and-run tactics that had kept him alive during the Blood Week. He loved the weapon, but by god how it put him in a foul mood.
He was Navy, he should have been on a boat, not slugging it out on the ground!
"Well? What are you waiting for? Move!"
The group jumped into action. Ezian slung the Eighty-Four while his loader rushed to grab the remaining ammo canisters. The RPG gunners grabbed as many bandoleers as they could carry. Once they were ready, Naomichi led them away at a run.
"We have to keep. Them off of. Nomura gorge." he explained in short, clipped bursts as they ran.
Why did he have to follow Gengyo everywhere? He could have been on a boat right now like a proper sailor, not running through the woods! "The Commander. Doesn't believe they can. Climb the slope. But we're not taking any chances. Musashi holds the tunnel. We hold the gorge. Hopefully, we get reinforcements by then."
There wasn't much talk after that, they were all too busy sucking wind. They followed the tracks south. If the maps were correct the bridge was just over a kilometer away.
Only a kilometer!
He hated running! He hated the Eighty-Four! Why couldn't he have a damn boat?!
He needed more cardio.
They were all wheezing for breath when the tracks turned a bend. A pillar of smoke rose ahead of them and as they drew closer, Naomichi could just make out where the tracks ended in a jagged wreak.
Gasping for air, Naomichi veered off into the woods. Finding a little grove, he ordered a halt. For a minute, all they could do was lean over, trying to get their breath back. As they recovered, sounds began to drift through the trees. The rumble of falling stone, the distant screech of metal against said stone. And just beneath it, he could barely make out the growl of Destroyers.
He shivered, then composed himself. Still had a job to do.
"No talking and no firing unless I tell you to. Stay low and quiet. Follow me."
With that, he led the way through the brush, placing each step with care as they approached the gorge. It was nerve-racking. At last, Naomichi could just make out the lip of the gorge through the trees and breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't see the bridge, but he couldn't see any Abyssals either. The sounds, however, were much closer than he liked. They must have been trying their luck with climbing.
He wasn't about to peer over the edge like an idiot, though. They needed a better angle.
Carefully, they followed the lip of the gorge east, freezing with each growl that echoed up, until a sharp bend allowed them a vantage point. Hunkering down in the brush, Naomichi could see everything.
The bridge was nothing more than a pile of mangled scrap at the bottom of the gorge, but to his relief, the train wasn't included in the wreck. They made it! The relief was short-lived as he laid eyes on the Abyssals.
Three of them, all Destroyers. I-Class, if his memory was correct. He fought back a shiver of revulsion. He had hoped to never see one this close again. Sure enough, they were clawing their way up the rock face.
The gorge was about seventy meters deep, and the Abyssals were almost halfway up. The slope, however, was against them; almost vertical. It was frankly incredible they had made it that far up to begin with. They weren't made for climbing, but climb they did. Their fins dug deep into the rock, hauling themselves with the screech of metal against stone.
They had to know how risky it was. Either they didn't care, or the fear of failing their flagship overrode their self-preservation. They would reach the top in a matter of minutes.
And yet... they were right where Naomichi wanted them.
Shaking off the cobwebs, he got to work. The rest of his men were staring at the Abyssals in horror and he gently shook them back to alertness. The first time seeing an Abyssal this close was a frightening experience.
He got his men into a line in the brush, working as quickly as he dared. Standard practice with Abyssals was to always assume you were spotted. They might have been eldritch abominations, but they were still warships at their core. That included all the observation equipment and range finders that put human eyes to shame.
They were either incredibly lucky, or the Abyssals were too preoccupied with keeping their footing.
"Do not fire until I give the word," he whispered to the men with the RPGs, placing them a respectable distance away. Should the worse happen, hopefully, they'd be able to continue firing. Or run. "Target the rock at their feet. Dislodge them. It's our only chance."
With the RPGs set, he hurried back to Ezian, hidden in a bush.
The lead Abyssal was less than ten meters from the lip of the gorge.
"You see how they're using their fins to climb?" Naomichi whispered, settling into position as the Eighty-Four's loader. He wasn't going to leave anything up to chance. "Target the rock beneath them. If we crack that, they fall and gravity does the rest."
Ezian was shaking; a combination of nerves and seeing Abyssals for the first time. Not a pleasant combination. "H-Hai."
"Just relax," Naomichi breathed, soothingly, forcing himself to follow his own advice.
The Destroyer was almost to the top.
"Breathe and take aim. Remember, aim for the fins and the rock. Wait for my order."
Ezian stilled, eyes locked on his target.
The Abyssal was almost there, its nose poking up over the lip! Right then, the rock beneath it cracked and the monster lurched, struggling to keep its footing.
"Fire!"
The Eighty-Four thumped; the round crossing the distance in a heartbeat to strike the ground right beneath the monster. Rock splintered and the Abyssal suddenly found itself resting on a bed of gravel. Howling, it clawed desperately at the rock, but it was already too late.
Eldritch abomination that it was, it was still a warship with all the mass associated with it.
Newton was a deadly sonofabitch.
The Abyssal tumbled downward, tearing boulders out of the wall in its desperate bid to stop its descent. The resulting landslide reached the second Abyssal before it could react. The impact resounded throughout the gorge as the monster was knocked loose and it too joined the fall. The final Abyssal tried to weather the storm but was struck on the nose by its compatriots.
It was beautiful! The Abyssals tumbled downward in an avalanche of churning rock, metal tearing loose from their hides as gravity and their own weight sealed their fate.
The Abyssals slammed into the ground one after the other. Rock and metal alike shattered under the force. From above, RPGs flew out, striking their hulls as falling rocks continued to rain down from above.
Laughing, Naomichi slammed another round into the Eighty-Four. "Hit 'em again! Hit 'em again!"
Another thump shook the ground, but a rising cloud of dust hid the results. Gradually, the rain of rock ceased and silence settled over the gorge. When the dust finally settled, the Abyssals were little more than twisted scrap, torn apart by the rocks and crushed against the ground. Their eyes stared blankly out at the world.
Naomichi gave a great sigh of relief and fell back, Ezian joined him a second later. The two men looked at each other, and then chuckled.
"So... how's it feel to kill an Abyssal?" Naomichi asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Ezian was giggling hysterically and it took him a few moments to recover. "I think... I think they should've stayed in the Pacific!"
"Damn right!"
They did it.
Thunder rolled over the mountains.
Of course, their little victory here wouldn't mean a damn thing if Musashi couldn't hold the tunnel.
EDIT Dec 11, 2023: Fixed grammar and spelling.
Hastily, he ripped out a notepad and wrote down a series of messages. Tearing the pages free, he handed them to Lieutenant Yura. "From the Commander. Remember, as high as you can go until you make contact with Kanmusu, relay his instructions." Then he leaned into the Lieutenant's ear so only she could hear and whispered. "Also from Gengyo... if the Abyssals break through, run. Don't try to come back for us. Escape and evade until help arrives. Understood?"
He pressed another note into her hand; the Commander's signed orders to escape should the worst come to pass.
Lieutenant Yura nodded, shakily, slipping the notes into a pocket. Though she had been taught by the best, nothing truly prepared you for the real deal. Pale-faced, she barely managed to relay orders to her motley group without stammering. The team hefted their bags, carrying the radio equipment they'd been able to salvage from the HQ before it was reduced to rubble, and disappeared into the woods.
With that, Naomichi sprinted for the incomplete station, jumping over train tracks and dodging around frightened groups of people. Everyone was looking south, hearing the explosions same as him. He could only hope it didn't start a panic. That would only do the Abyssal's job for them.
"The radio team is away!" he panted, bursting into the half-finished building and skidded to a stop beside Gengyo. "Did you hear the explosion?"
"I did," the Commander said tightly. Reluctantly, he scratched out the bridge icon on his map with a pencil. "So... evacuation via the bridge is no longer open to us."
"Did the train at least make it across?"
"I do not know." The response was little more than a whisper. Both men knew it was a long shot, but if even a fraction of lives could be saved, it was worth the risk. Though he hoped for the best, Naomichi couldn't help but imagine they'd sent thousands to their deaths.
"Shit," he hissed, quietly. "Okay, so what options do we have left?"
"Very few, I'm afraid. The only advantage we have is that the mountains prevent the Abyssals from shelling us. They would have to withdraw to the ocean for a good enough firing angle."
"Small comfort."
Nodding tightly, Gengyo tossed his phone onto the desk with a series of text messages on the screen. "I did manage to make contact with Misawa before the Abyssal interference cut me off. They are aware of our predicament... if nothing else."
Naomichi frowned, confused. "If nothing else?"
"That was more than fifteen minutes ago. We should have received air cover by now. My best guess is that carriers are in play. They must have got to the airfield before they could muster, that is the only explanation. Whatever air support we get will have to come from further inland, and it'll take time we don't have. No... we're on our own until the Kanmusu team arrives."
Gengyo's shoulders sagged for a fraction of a second before he pulled himself together. "We have to scatter the people into the woods. They'll be easy targets clustered around the station if the Abyssals break through. The more time they spend hunting individual groups is more time we have to escape. I sent out teams to try and find a way over the west side of the valley. I didn't want to pit the people against the wilderness, but we have no other choice."
"That's risky," Naomichi noted.
"It is risky either way!" the Commander snapped. "We either find a path for them to run or hold them here like a Sushi bar. Our mission is to save as many people as possible and by God I'll do it! All we need now is time."
He pointed at the map. "Musashi has agreed to hold the tunnel. I do not know how long that buys us but we shall not waste it. In the meantime," he jabbed at the scratched-out bridge. "I'm not dismissing the possibility that Abyssals can't reach us from this side. Take as many men as necessary and keep them off that slope."
"Got it," Naomichi replied, wondering exactly how the hell he was going to do that. They were Abyssals. What was he going to do, push them off?
Oh!
"I'll need the Eighty-Four."
"Take whatever you need, it won't help us here. Moreover, if the Abyssals break through, do not try to come back for us. I will save as many lives today as I can." The Commander reached out and shook his hand with a fierce intensity. "If this is the last time we meet, I'm honored to have served beside you."
"The honor is mine, buddy," Naomichi replied, then both men rushed out of the building. Gengyo ran off to corral the teaming mass of civilians. Naomichi wished him luck, but right then he was trying to remember one face in particular.
The Eighty-Four, who was their best gunner on the Eighty-Four? He knew they had a good shot here, he'd presented a marksmanship award to the guy a year ago, now if only he could remember his damn name-
"Ezian!" It came rushing back in a flash, and he hollered at the top of his lungs. He hoped the man hadn't gone looking for a trail. "Private Ezian! Where are you?"
"Hai, sir!" the shout came from the entrance to the tunnel where a number of men were posted as guards. Though Naomichi hated to admit it, at this point it was only a ploy to provide some illusion of security for the civilians.
And there was Ezian as the front, Eighty-Four shouldered and pointed down range. Perfect!
"Ammo?" Naomichi gasped as he sprinted up. "How much ammo did we manage to save?"
"As much as we could."
"Numbers, man!" Naomichi snapped. Ezian jumped, lips moving silently as he looked over the side of the road.
"Eight, sir. High explosive. Along with, uh... five bandoleers for the RPGs, twenty-five in total. Over there." He jerked his head in their direction and Naomichi rushed over to see for himself.
Sure enough, it was just as the Private had said. Next, he took stock of his men. Ezian and three others; two with RPGs, the last acting as the Eighty-Four's loader.
It would have to do.
"Alright, you four are coming with me. Pack up!"
Ezian's loader blanched. "But, sir, the tunnel-"
"If Musashi can't hold it, there's not a snowball's chance in hell you can!" Naomichi snapped again. They were short on time and the back talk was getting on his nerves. Grabbing one of the 84mm canisters, he threw it over his back.
Agh, how he hated the canisters. Training with the SRAAW had become mandatory for the Navy after Blood Week. The Carl-G 84mm was essentially a metal tube that weighed over six kilograms. And however much people complained about it - heaven forbid they would ever have to face an Abyssal on foot - that tube was still capable of putting a hole in a Destroyer. Naomichi could certainly attest to that.
That didn't make carrying the thing any less of a hassle. The rounds were about ten kilograms each and came in canisters of two. They were heavy, awkward, and the carrying straps that came with the canisters were more painful to use than anything else.
The qualifying test for the Eighty-Four was a four-hundred-meter dash carrying the tube and two spare rounds. At the finish line, you fired off both shots at a target then dashed back. The same hit-and-run tactics that had kept him alive during the Blood Week. He loved the weapon, but by god how it put him in a foul mood.
He was Navy, he should have been on a boat, not slugging it out on the ground!
"Well? What are you waiting for? Move!"
The group jumped into action. Ezian slung the Eighty-Four while his loader rushed to grab the remaining ammo canisters. The RPG gunners grabbed as many bandoleers as they could carry. Once they were ready, Naomichi led them away at a run.
"We have to keep. Them off of. Nomura gorge." he explained in short, clipped bursts as they ran.
Why did he have to follow Gengyo everywhere? He could have been on a boat right now like a proper sailor, not running through the woods! "The Commander. Doesn't believe they can. Climb the slope. But we're not taking any chances. Musashi holds the tunnel. We hold the gorge. Hopefully, we get reinforcements by then."
There wasn't much talk after that, they were all too busy sucking wind. They followed the tracks south. If the maps were correct the bridge was just over a kilometer away.
Only a kilometer!
He hated running! He hated the Eighty-Four! Why couldn't he have a damn boat?!
He needed more cardio.
They were all wheezing for breath when the tracks turned a bend. A pillar of smoke rose ahead of them and as they drew closer, Naomichi could just make out where the tracks ended in a jagged wreak.
Gasping for air, Naomichi veered off into the woods. Finding a little grove, he ordered a halt. For a minute, all they could do was lean over, trying to get their breath back. As they recovered, sounds began to drift through the trees. The rumble of falling stone, the distant screech of metal against said stone. And just beneath it, he could barely make out the growl of Destroyers.
He shivered, then composed himself. Still had a job to do.
"No talking and no firing unless I tell you to. Stay low and quiet. Follow me."
With that, he led the way through the brush, placing each step with care as they approached the gorge. It was nerve-racking. At last, Naomichi could just make out the lip of the gorge through the trees and breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't see the bridge, but he couldn't see any Abyssals either. The sounds, however, were much closer than he liked. They must have been trying their luck with climbing.
He wasn't about to peer over the edge like an idiot, though. They needed a better angle.
Carefully, they followed the lip of the gorge east, freezing with each growl that echoed up, until a sharp bend allowed them a vantage point. Hunkering down in the brush, Naomichi could see everything.
The bridge was nothing more than a pile of mangled scrap at the bottom of the gorge, but to his relief, the train wasn't included in the wreck. They made it! The relief was short-lived as he laid eyes on the Abyssals.
Three of them, all Destroyers. I-Class, if his memory was correct. He fought back a shiver of revulsion. He had hoped to never see one this close again. Sure enough, they were clawing their way up the rock face.
The gorge was about seventy meters deep, and the Abyssals were almost halfway up. The slope, however, was against them; almost vertical. It was frankly incredible they had made it that far up to begin with. They weren't made for climbing, but climb they did. Their fins dug deep into the rock, hauling themselves with the screech of metal against stone.
They had to know how risky it was. Either they didn't care, or the fear of failing their flagship overrode their self-preservation. They would reach the top in a matter of minutes.
And yet... they were right where Naomichi wanted them.
Shaking off the cobwebs, he got to work. The rest of his men were staring at the Abyssals in horror and he gently shook them back to alertness. The first time seeing an Abyssal this close was a frightening experience.
He got his men into a line in the brush, working as quickly as he dared. Standard practice with Abyssals was to always assume you were spotted. They might have been eldritch abominations, but they were still warships at their core. That included all the observation equipment and range finders that put human eyes to shame.
They were either incredibly lucky, or the Abyssals were too preoccupied with keeping their footing.
"Do not fire until I give the word," he whispered to the men with the RPGs, placing them a respectable distance away. Should the worse happen, hopefully, they'd be able to continue firing. Or run. "Target the rock at their feet. Dislodge them. It's our only chance."
With the RPGs set, he hurried back to Ezian, hidden in a bush.
The lead Abyssal was less than ten meters from the lip of the gorge.
"You see how they're using their fins to climb?" Naomichi whispered, settling into position as the Eighty-Four's loader. He wasn't going to leave anything up to chance. "Target the rock beneath them. If we crack that, they fall and gravity does the rest."
Ezian was shaking; a combination of nerves and seeing Abyssals for the first time. Not a pleasant combination. "H-Hai."
"Just relax," Naomichi breathed, soothingly, forcing himself to follow his own advice.
The Destroyer was almost to the top.
"Breathe and take aim. Remember, aim for the fins and the rock. Wait for my order."
Ezian stilled, eyes locked on his target.
The Abyssal was almost there, its nose poking up over the lip! Right then, the rock beneath it cracked and the monster lurched, struggling to keep its footing.
"Fire!"
The Eighty-Four thumped; the round crossing the distance in a heartbeat to strike the ground right beneath the monster. Rock splintered and the Abyssal suddenly found itself resting on a bed of gravel. Howling, it clawed desperately at the rock, but it was already too late.
Eldritch abomination that it was, it was still a warship with all the mass associated with it.
Newton was a deadly sonofabitch.
The Abyssal tumbled downward, tearing boulders out of the wall in its desperate bid to stop its descent. The resulting landslide reached the second Abyssal before it could react. The impact resounded throughout the gorge as the monster was knocked loose and it too joined the fall. The final Abyssal tried to weather the storm but was struck on the nose by its compatriots.
It was beautiful! The Abyssals tumbled downward in an avalanche of churning rock, metal tearing loose from their hides as gravity and their own weight sealed their fate.
The Abyssals slammed into the ground one after the other. Rock and metal alike shattered under the force. From above, RPGs flew out, striking their hulls as falling rocks continued to rain down from above.
Laughing, Naomichi slammed another round into the Eighty-Four. "Hit 'em again! Hit 'em again!"
Another thump shook the ground, but a rising cloud of dust hid the results. Gradually, the rain of rock ceased and silence settled over the gorge. When the dust finally settled, the Abyssals were little more than twisted scrap, torn apart by the rocks and crushed against the ground. Their eyes stared blankly out at the world.
Naomichi gave a great sigh of relief and fell back, Ezian joined him a second later. The two men looked at each other, and then chuckled.
"So... how's it feel to kill an Abyssal?" Naomichi asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Ezian was giggling hysterically and it took him a few moments to recover. "I think... I think they should've stayed in the Pacific!"
"Damn right!"
They did it.
Thunder rolled over the mountains.
Of course, their little victory here wouldn't mean a damn thing if Musashi couldn't hold the tunnel.
A quick quick break from the main attraction; covering how the common man fights an Abyssal.
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Chapter 11: Rokkasho Part 2
"Admiral?"
Goto jolted awake. Oh... he'd fallen asleep at his desk again, didn't he?
Ooyoda stood above him like a disapproving mother, papers clutched against her chest with one hand and two cups of steaming coffee in the other. "You should get some rest."
Phrased as a suggestion, her tone was anything but.
'You first', Goto wanted to snark back but wisely chose to refrain.
The Light Cruiser looked worse than he did, and that was saying something. Dark bags hung under her eyes and her clothes were disheveled from the days of toil. They both needed sleep, they both knew it, but neither was ready to give up and admit that.
Sighing, Goto tapped his desk, the offered brew joining the half dozen other mugs pushed to one side. Taking a sip, he refocused on the papers before him.
He couldn't sleep, even if he wanted to. There was just too much to do
Requests for information from Parliament, the Minister of Defence, the Maritime Staff Office and so many more were awaiting his attention. The JSDAF was asking for a timeline on the general stand-down. They had been running hard for weeks keeping the coasts and trade routes secure during Operation Cutback in light of diminished Kanmusu support. Planes, pilots, and equipment were being pushed to their limits. And now people with enough rank to throw around were getting antsy.
Story of his life. Everyone was tired, overworked and understaffed.
However much he wanted to tell the 9th Air Wing to grow up, lashing out wouldn't make things better. But eight hours of mandatory sleep his ass! Pilots... What did they have to complain about with a mandate like that?
And Goto didn't know what to tell them. It might be months before they could take their foot off the gas and stand down. Statistically speaking, Japan was the only nation still operationally capable of manning the Trans-Pacific convoy. The USN certainly didn't have the girls to spare, not after their losses.
He was loathed to admit it, but they would need to break into their limited supplies of repair buckets. Fix up a few of the girls and get them back on their feet to take the strain off the nation's limited resources.
No one was going to be happy with this.
Sipping his coffee, he rose, spine popped back into alignment as he ambled over to the window. The afternoon sun washed over him and he allowed himself a moment to bask in the radiance.
Things weren't going to get any easier. But, they might be seeing a new addition to the fleet soon. A spot of good news, at least.
The phone on his desk rang, shattering the calm.
Grumbling at the loss of his short break, he paused to allow his voice to mellow out before picking up. "Admiral Goto."
It was the Air Defence Command. Again. Prepared for another round of negotiating patrol schedules, he raised his mug for another sip. But as the voice on the other end spoke frantically, the coffee slipped from his grasp. Ooyoda jumped as it shattered against the ground, but Goto couldn't be bothered as the frantic call for assistance rang over the phone
"What?!"
The modern trains never ceased to amaze Nagato. It was embarrassing, to be honest; her, a battleship, fascinated about carts running around on rails. And yet, there was something oddly thrilling about crawling inside a metal tube hurling itself across the land. The way trees flew past the windows in a blur, the scenery changing before her eyes. There was just so much to take in, unlike the featureless surface of the ocean.
And the modern amenities and technology only made the experience better. Despite being commissioned a century ago, she couldn't imagine riding on the rough wooden seats of the era without climate control. She enjoyed her nice, plush cushions and air conditioning, thank you very much.
It all melded together into a warm blanket of comfort, the cool glass of the window pressed against her cheek, watching the world and all its problems slide away. It helped distract from the new problem creeping towards the coast at a sedate four knots.
Battleship though she was, the thought of what they might find still made her shudder.
...damaged...
Summoning was an art still in its infancy, but there was enough correlating evidence to set certain rules in stone. Though she trusted Akashi with her life, Nagato couldn't help but resent the repair ship for even suggesting that a damaged summon was even possible.
A summoning was sacred. The pleas of an entire nation calling out to the spirits of the past, begging their fallen protectors to rise once again. It was not a rebuild or commissioning, or any sort of physical refurbish, but a true summoning. Called from the grave and the depths of history.
Nagato, in particular, held it in a special place of reverence. She didn't have the luxury of sinking in battle like the others. No, her sinking was with the shame of being relegated to mere war reparations. A battleship stuck in her ways, confined to the docks as her nation burned around her. She hadn't been a gracious captive, to say the least. And in the end, her fate was sealed at Bikini Atoll. She still remembered the flash.
And then she heard the call.
Her first breath as a Kanmusu changed her whole outlook on life; literally and metaphorically. With this new, modern world around her and with the people she came to know... sometimes it was still hard to forgive herself for the things she believed.
And the summoning, the call, the oath; Shipgirls had many different names for it. The call to serve once again in humanity's darkest hour. For her, it was a second chance. To... correct herself.
But for everyone, it was a chance to finally live. To have a life. To live, laugh, love, all of it! That alone made it special for everyone.
But for a vessel's summoning to deviate from the norm... something dreadful must have happened. Or a terrible mistake. What if a particularly eager destroyer had answered the summons before she was ready? It was pure speculation, no one knew what happened after a vessel sunk. But it was no less horrifying to think about. An eager vessel, called to do her duty... awakening in a broken body... tossed about by the waves as she fought desperately to make it to shore.
Her throat clenched.
How could something so noble leave a vessel so stricken?
"Excuse me, Nagato-sama."
The battleship reluctantly peeled her gaze away from the passing landscape. A beaming stewardess hovered just outside the Kanmusu's booth, her arms ladened down with a stack of Bento Boxes. Nagato's stomach rumbled as her quartermaster did a quick inventory. A second rumble indicated that while she didn't necessarily need a resupply, a little top-up wouldn't hurt.
There was just one problem.
"I'm sorry, but our tickets didn't come with catering."
Nagato could feel her quartermaster pouting. She silently agreed with the sentiment.
It spoke to the urgency of their mission that the Admiral hadn't had the time to requisition proper military transport, not that she could blame him. Organizing the mission and grabbing the first mode of transportation available probably took more time than he had to spare.
"These are complimentary, Nagato-sama," the stewardess beamed, much to the battleship's surprise as she handed over the stack. "It is the very least I can do after everything you've done for us."
The boxes were warm, too, fresh out of the small kitchens provided. As her quartermaster did a happy jig at the turn of events, Nagato set the meals aside – temporarily, of course – and gave the stewardess her full attention. "Thank you for your generosity."
"Oh, it's nothing," the girl blushed. "But... there is one thing."
"Oh?"
The stewardess' blush deepened as she fiddled with the collar of her uniform. Glancing back and forth, she confirmed that the train car's aisle was empty. "Well... you see, it's a great honor to meet you... and we can't carry our phones while on the job, so..." Her face turned a truly interesting shade of red as she opened her shirt. "Could you please sign my bra?"
Nagato's smile turned slightly brittle. It was behavior she was... sort of used to at this point, yet it still caught her off guard when it happened.
She was far from the powerful hull of steel that commanded the respect of all who laid eyes on her, and yet so much more than a war machine. Everyone said that made Kanmusu more approachable... but it also invited these sorts. Although the stewardess didn't appear to be a prude, if a little insecure, she had gone right to the extreme without considering alternatives. And now that the offer was out there, Nagato didn't think she could sign anything else without offending the girl.
She could refuse outright.
But the girl had been so kind to them already...
Nagato took a quick look around the cabin. Akashi was still draped over her seat's armrest, a thin line of drool hanging from her lip as she slept. Likewise, the two Seaplane Tenders were out cold, curled up like kittens, both quietly snoring. More importantly, none of them appeared to be waking any time soon.
"Tell no one about this."
The stewardess squealed silently, dancing one foot, then held out a marker. Quickly and quietly, Nagato signed the modest garment. As the girl hurried away, Nagato returned to her seat with a sigh.
There were times when she loved the modern era and... other times when she wondered what exactly her country had become. And how exactly pornography had become so... prevalent?
But, that age-old conundrum could wait. Her stomach was getting impatient. She peeled back the plastic cover and breathed deeply of the rich, if slightly stale scent that wafted out. Ginger pork. While it was far from the quality she had come to expect from the mess in Yokosuka, she wasn't picky, and would never complain about a person's generosity.
As the scent filled the small cabin, Akashi stirred. Her nose twitched like a rabbit. "Is that food I smell?" she asked tiredly, eyes still closed.
Nagato hummed an affirmative, her mouth solely focused on chewing as her free hand passed the repair ship a box.
For a long minute, the only sounds were thoughtful chewing and the sounds of the train.
"Is it wrong that I want this to be a trap?"
Nagato paused mid-bite.
"It's messed up, I know," Akashi said glumly. Though she was eating, it was with the enthusiasm of an inmate on death row. "But Abyssals getting smarter is something we're used to. At least then I don't have to wonder how a potential wreck is still floating. There's no telling how bad the damage could be."
"But... she is still floating?" Nagato asked. It came out as more of a plea rather than a clarification.
The repair ship nodded. "As far as I know, yeah. I'm still waiting for Commander Gengyo to get back to me, though from his last report, she was very close to shore."
Nagato breathed a sigh of relief.
"Although, if it was a trap we would have heard about it by now, so..." Akashi shrugged, helplessly.
"Then we will treat her like the returning hero she is." Polishing off the last of the sauce with a clump of rice, Nagato reached for another box. "Akashi, you are the best repair ship I know, both in this life and the last. If anyone can heal our wayward ship girl, it is you."
Akashi opened her mouth, before accepting the compliment with a slight blush. The next silence didn't stretch as long as the last.
"What do you think it all means?"
What indeed?
The pork suddenly turned wooden in Nagato's mouth. "I'm... trying not to think about it."
A soft moan interrupted them. Somehow the tenders had squirmed into a new position. Chitose had curled up in her sister's lap like a cat, still asleep and muttering cutely to herself. Chiyoda on the other hand was groggily returning to the land of the living. Finding herself trapped and unwilling to dislodge her slumbering sister-ship, she held out a hand for a box that Nagato graciously provided. They ate in silence until Chitose began to stir, sniffing the air in her sleep.
"... s'op it..." the sleeping Tender murmured, pawing at the air. "...s'op teas'n me like that..."
Nagato looked away, fighting the urge to coo as the sleeping ship pouted adorably.
"...stap it... Georgia-"
"I knew it!"
Chitose's eyes snapped open. "Chiyoda!"
She tried to push herself up, not realizing that she'd been repurposed as a tray, and ended up tumbling to the ground with an undignified squawk. Chiyoda loomed over her.
"I knew it! You've been reading that fanfiction again, haven't you?"
Chitose went beet red. "W-Wha-? No! No, Chiyoda, it's not what you think!"
"Who's this Georgia then?"
"Uhh..." Chitose's jaw flapped uselessly, her voice getting weaker with every word. "T-The... battleship... Georgia?"
Chiyoda gaped, then threw back her head in despair. "Unbelievable! My sister has fallen for an Abyssal Submarine!"
Akashi dropped her chopsticks in shock. "What?"
"I-It's not what you think!" Chitose waved her arms, frantically.
"Then what is it?!"
"My sister found a fanfiction where she's saved from sinking by an Abyssal submarine." Chiyoda deadpanned.
Akashi visibly calmed down. "Oh... that's-... wait, what?"
"It's also shameless smut."
"Noit'snot!" Chitose squealed.
"She put her crew inside of you! Within the first ten chapters, too!"
Akashi gasped in horror, though it went ignored as Chitose pointed an accusing finger. "So you've read it too!"
"That's not the point!" Chiyoda shot back, blushing. "You're dreaming of an Abyssal submarine to come and carry you away! My sister's chastity had been corrupted!!"
"Wha- NO!"
Nagato continued with her meal, focusing on the taste of the food rather than the surrounding chaos. This was more akin to a Kongou situation than anything else. You couldn't stop it, and any attempt to intervene would only have you caught up in the madness.
Akashi was not so wise; her face alternating between anti-fouling red and bone white as the plot was gradually revealed. Not that Nagato was listening. She was safe in her bubble of Zen-like ignorance, born in the face of the chaos that only a Kongou could create. Sweet, blissful tranqilit-
"Nagato!"
She squeaked, Zen-like state shattered as Goto's voice rang from her radio. "Nagato! Respond now!"
"A-Admiral!" she spluttered, regaining her composure in an instant. "I'm here, what-"
"Abyssals have made landfall in the Aomori region!" Her blood ran cold. For a moment, she was frozen in place, mind reeling from the shock. Then calm assertiveness slammed into place as she felt herself shift into General Quarters. This wasn't a rescue mission anymore, it was an ambush.
"What are we dealing with? A single vessel?" That would be the forgone conclusion, considering why they were sent in the first place
"I don't know," Goto replied. "The Air Staff Office is crawling up my ass. Misawa Airbase was bombed less than ten minutes ago. Reports are scattered, but a lucky hit appears to have taken out the tower. No other word since then."
"We're dealing with carriers, then?"
"I don't know," he repeated, the words sounding like they were slipping through gritted teeth. "Everyone is mobilizing and no one has told me anything other than to get every girl we have up north!"
Returning to the present, Nagato realized the cabin had gone dead silent, the others listening in on the conversation in horror. Akashi in particular looked especially guilty.
"Akashi, permission to assume the position of flagship?"
It wasn't standard procedure, but these were far from normal circumstances. For all her bravery, Akashi was no front-line fighter.
The repair ship nodded. Instantly, Nagato took action. "Chitose, Chiyoda, prep as many planes as you can. Akashi, contact Gengyo and find out what we're dealing with."
Her fleet, and it was her fleet now, jumped into action. Her crew hadn't been idle, either. The navigation faeries were pouring over her charts and running time estimates to judge their position. Seconds later, the report came in. "Admiral, we are about to enter Noheji Station. Are there any more reports on Abyssal activities?"
"None, but you're the furthest fleet north that we have." Goto sounded like he was pulling out his hair. "Hang on."
The radio cut out.
"Nothing from Commander Gengyo," Akashi reported, fingers tight around her phone as he tapped the screen. "I'm not hearing anything over the radio either."
Nagato was about to reply when the entire train lurched, the brakes squealing as they suddenly decelerated, before settling to a complete stop. Nagato was thrown forward out of her seat towards Akashi, who squealed as thirty thousand tonnes of battleship flew in her direction. The collision with the repair ship was narrowly avoided. She did, however, put a hole through the carriage wall. Inertia plus battleship was a deadly combination. It didn't help that in her spasms to avoid Akashi, Nagato had gone through the wall face first.
A group of men in sharp suits gaped at her as she pulled out, but she was too concerned to be embarrassed. Looking out the window, the station was nowhere in sight.
Why did the train stop? The Abyssals couldn't be this far west already, could they?
Ordering her fleet to stay put, she burst out of the cabin and rushed forward to the locomotive. She wasn't the only one curious; people were leaning out of cabins, echoing the same question of why had they stopped. She had to slow her pace just to avoid crushing people with her mass.
When she got there, several people from first class were pestering a conductor, who in turn was blocking off the door to the locomotive itself. He was calm, handling the agitated crowd with a professionalism Nagato couldn't help but admire. Of course, all conversation stopped dead the moment she entered.
A battleship was hard to ignore.
"What's going on?"
"There appears to have been a scheduling error, Nagato-Sama," the conductor said hastily, putting on a brilliant smile. "A train from Rokkasho has arrived early and is blocking our entrance to the station. Rest assured, sirs, and ma'am, the station authorities are investigating the issue and we will resume our journey momentarily. Please, everyone, return to your seats. Complementary service will make its way around to compensate for the delay."
That mollified the crowd. Although there was a fair amount of grumbling about missing deadlines. The conductor smiled pleasantly, repeating the same message. His gaze, though, locked completely on Nagato, told a different story.
Something was up.
"Did they say why they arrived early?" Nagato asked, and the conductor's calm veneer cracked slightly. Motioning for her to come closer, he made sure no one else was in earshot before whispering.
"Nagato-Sama, they say Abyssals have attacked Rokkasho. The train was full of evacuees; everyone they could get out before the bridge was destroyed." he took a shuddering breath. "T-The police are in the station now, but... no one seems to know what's going on. Ah... everyone is afraid they're coming down the tracks!"
He trailed off, struggling to keep his composure. Abyssals were the stuff of nightmares and now these innocent people were experiencing them firsthand. Nagato laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. The consolation of a battleship did more than words ever could. He collected himself. "They want us to reverse the train and flee south. That will free up the lines for others."
Wise. Wiser still to keep it quiet. Panic was a far more devious foe.
Conscious of the people around her, Nagato whispered. "Thank you for your honesty, but my fleet and I need to get off this train before you depart."
"I'll open the door."
With the conductor's help, the fleet exited the train in short order. Much to the bewilderment of the other passengers who watched as the shipgirls sprinted up the tracks. No sooner had their feet touched the ground when the locomotive was thrown in reverse. At the same time, the wail of sirens echoed over the land.
Off to the north, the sky was black with billowing thunderheads, the boom of thunder almost drowning out the alarm. Even to the naked eye, nothing about the storm was natural; blooming out at an impossible speed. And the sheer malice it emanated chilled the blood in Nagato's veins.
She knew exactly what it was. Not just Abyssals, there was a Princess on Japanese soil!
But she mustn't allow herself to give into panic. That was growing increasingly difficult as she took in their status. A rescue slash salvage fleet consisting of a single battleship, a repair ship and two sea-plane tenders, and they were the first line of defense. Not the best combination. She could only guess at the composition of the enemy fleet, but with a Princess at the helm, they would be outgunned regardless. If the Abyssals struck now, with the majority of the shipgirls still far away in the Pacific... it would be a massacre. She could only hope that the JSDAF mustered in time to get them some air support or their defense was going to be short-lived.
"Uh, Nagato?" Admiral Goto came back over the radio. "Something interesting just came down. Our wayward Ship-girl is real! The last report Command Gengyo got to Misawa mentioned that battleship Musashi was present."
"Musashi!"
Make that two battleships! The second of the Yamato class had finally arrived! But in what state? Could she even fight? Who was she kidding; Musashi would fight regardless!
"Akashi, see if you can contact her," Nagato commanded, returning to the Admiral as they entered Kita-Noheji Station. "Admiral, do you have any orders for us?" Because she was conflicted over what to do. Counterattack or protect the fleeing populous?
As they entered the station, that question became harder to ignore. The platform was swarming with children, many of whom were crying. They overflowed from a train that was packed to bursting, and station officials were doing their best to cram them back in to send them all further south. Meanwhile, police were doing their best to hold back a mob flooding the terminal, trying to evacuate on the train themselves.
The noise was awful. The screams of children and shouted orders, it was chaos that tore at her heartstrings and firmed her resolve.
If the Abyssals wanted to strike at Japan and its people, then they would have to go through her first!
"We need to dislodge them," Goto responded at last, voice tight. "I'm looking at the charts; New Rokkasho is right in the middle of a mountain fortress, and I'm willing to bet that's why the Abyssals chose it as their landing site in the first place. If we allow them to dig in we'll never get them out."
Nagato nodded, ducking her head as they ran through the station by way of an unoccupied set of tracks. She couldn't bear to look at the platform, otherwise, she might stop to help. She had her mission, and it was more important than seeing a train of children to safety, however much it tore at her.
"I won't allow that, Admiral. Count on it."
"I've diverted the fleet. The carriers have planes in the air, but it could be hours before they arrive. Keep the Abyssals on the back foot by any means necessary. I'm informing the ADC of my intentions. Hopefully, I can get you some support, until then you're own your own. Don't die. That's an order."
"Understood, Admiral."
Looking back, she saw the others nod resolutely. They all knew what was at stake. Entrenched Abyssals on the mainland would be a death sentence for Japan. They could not allow that to happen!
"Chitose, Chiyoda, launch planes and find out what we're dealing with. Akashi?"
"Nothing from Musashi or Gengyo!" she panted, almost drowned out by the roar of propellers.
"Then we can only hope they're still alive. Keep trying!"
The drone of aircraft was growing overwhelming as the two tenders launched their full contingent. Reconnaissance planes and Zuiun bombers rallied, forming into their squadrons before bravely flying for the growing storm. It was a paltry force, Nagato knew, but it was all they had.
The fleet blazed out of Noheji, leaving the evacuating town behind as they sprinted at flank speed. They might have been human, but they still had the boilers and turbines of warships, allowing them speed and endurance that turned Olympic athletes green with envy. Nagato was forced to slow her pace just to allow the others to keep up, but it was still a blistering speed.
But as the clouds continued to billow outward and the distant crack of navel rifles could be heard, she could only pray that they weren't already too late.
The artillery never ceased; the enemy force appeared determined to raze Rokkasho to the ground, one building at a time. They were working their way east to west if the ever-approaching wall of exploding houses was any indication. Thorough bastards, William would give them that.
There didn't appear to be any other motive than mindless destruction, but it ended up working in his favor; time was what he needed, and he didn't let it go to waste.
He had to keep them from the train station by any means necessary; that included vandalism.
Putting his new supernatural strength to the test, every nearby road sign had been demolished, mangled beyond eligibility, and hidden as quickly as possible. It was an... interesting experience. He barely needed to try. Metal tore in his grip like paper, thick wooden posts shattered when he kicked, and he barely felt a thing. It was honestly more nerve-wracking than the approaching drones.
After watching the Abyss mold the battleship like putty, imagining what it could do to a human wasn't pleasant.
But William forced those thoughts aside, carrying out his work as fast as he could. Denial of intelligence. It was impossible to know what capabilities the drones had; global positioning or even maps of their own. But if it would confuse them for even a moment then it was worth the effort.
Now, with his task complete all he could do was wait, hiding in a small cafe next to the mouth of the tunnel. It had taken careful maneuvering to get in through the door, and there weren't a lot of places he could hide with the battleship; damn, but the hunk-a-junk was big. In the end, he hunkered behind a wall next to the wide bay windows. It kept him out of sight while providing just enough of an angle so he could watch the mouth of the tunnel unrestricted.
Even so, that didn't leave him with a lot of options. Once his cover was blown he'd need to move fast, close the distance, and rip the drones to shreds. That seemed to be the key. Unless they were stupid enough to be lured closer, then he could try to maintain the element of surprise. If he still had it at all.
Were the drones networked or operating independently? Either way, it would be stupid not to assume they weren't already aware of him. That meant closing the distance with an enemy that had guns galore and he could only use his fists. Lovely.
All the same, planning out his strategy, visualizing it in his mind's eye... it couldn't quite ease his nerves.
If only he had some sort of firearm to level the playing field. Oh, wait...
The turrets ignored his sarcasm, as did Gremlin.
All things considered, the battleship had gotten off worse than he did. All those guns, ammo, and armor were rendered down to create this contraption. From a majestic battleship to a glorified backpack. He could have used those guns right about now.
Come to think about it, what was Gremlin's purpose anyway? She must be inside the thing, but doing what?
As if in answer, that strange hollowness saturating his body beckoned, slipping outside his body into the battleship itself. And following it came this strange... impression. A flash, like he was back on board the battleship, seeing its components, its boilers. He saw... fire control. Dozens of knobs connected by kilometers of wires and cables to the enormous motors that rotated the massive turret.
And the impression... perked up, the feeling becoming a blur before a sound jolted back to the present.
The turrets were moving, rotating with a whir of straining motors to point slightly to the right, then stopped.
William blinked, momentarily lost as the sensation drained away, the hollowness returning to its usual state. But the battleship had responded.
"Are you reading my damn mind now?"
Another boom rattled the air, and the windows of the cafe visibly flexed from the pressure. The explosion that followed a second later shook the entire town. Dirt and debris rained from the sky, sounding like a hail storm against the cafe's roof.
But that wasn't what froze the blood in his veins. A deep, primal roar echoed around the hills. The windows shook in their frames and William felt the ground itself vibrate. It sounded like a moose mixed with the inner workings of a steel mill. And wasn't that a strange comparison.
The bombardments ceased immediately. An eerie silence settled over the mountains. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to stop his hands from shaking.
"God give me strength," he whispered as the wind drifted through the empty streets.
Deciding to sacrifice was one thing, waiting for the violence to commence was another matter entirely. He had faced death before and even welcomed it at one point. This, however, wasn't the long drawn-out inevitability he'd faced in the Abyss... this was the death in combat he had imagined his whole life.
The chaos, the noise of battle, the shots snapping past his ears. He could see the drones in his mind's eye; how they would turn to face him when he appeared. The boom of their cannons. In all due likelihood, his blaze of glory would be short-lived. The overpressure of their guns might not kill him – for whatever reason – but a direct hit would undoubtedly blow him to pieces. He would need to close the distance and fast, before they had the chance to aim.
He might get the jump on one of them, maybe even two, but then the rest would be right on top of him.
Although, getting blown to pieces might be preferable to becoming an oversized chew toy.
But there had to be a way he could break contact; hit-and-run attacks maybe. But with the battleship how would he-
Something clicked outside the cafe. William froze, heart pounding as the sound slowly got louder. Closer. A steady rhythm, the click-clack of something hard on the street. They were certainly footsteps, but were those... heels?
He shook his head at the absurdity of it. Who could be walking around in heels at a time like this?
The footsteps came to a stop in front of the cafe, just outside his line of sight. Carefully, he peeked around the wall and froze.
It... looked like a woman. William blinked, momentarily bewildered, before more details registered. Her skin was deathly pale, merging seamlessly with her white shirt, but standing out in sharp relief from her pitch-black leggings.
The only splash of color was a strange green and brown tattoo on her forehead.
But that was about as normal as she got. A collar made of teeth, each the size of William's hand, protected her neck, and the enormous hat she wore breathed. A tooth-filled maw glared out upon the world, with two glowing blue eyes sunken into the top. A pair of tentacles dangled from the monstrosity, wriggling of their own accord. And perched on either side were two double barrelled turrets, twitching back and forward as the woman looked about.
A pervading sense of wrongness surrounded her, enough to send a shiver of revulsion down his spine. The same haze as before clung to her form, almost twisting the light around her into something massive. Looming, yet invisible.
It looked human, but his instincts were screaming that it was anything but.
The woman, if it could even be called that, examined the area. A scowl rapidly spread across her features as she glanced from road to road. For the brief moment when her head turned, William caught a flash of glowing blue eyes.
"Ushinatta?"
William shrank back into cover as a second and then a third drone joined the first. They were virtually identical, right down to the canes they held.
But the voice...
There was a 'humph'. "Mochiron chigaimasu. Ningen-tachi wa watashitachi o bōgai shiyou to shimashitaga, teokuredeshita."
His blood ran cold. The words reverberated through the air, ringing hollow with an unnatural quality. The Song....
"Sorede... Hairimasu ka?" The first one glanced at... her? It's? compatriots, who shrugged in response.
"Īe, kuchiku-kan ga kochira ni mukatte oshikaeshite kuru no o machimasu. Mōnidoto Yabu-hori ni wa ikimasen."
"Busshuwakkingu?"
"Ningen ga omoshiroi to omou orokana koto. Shinjite kudasai,-sōde wa arimasen."
"Dakaranani? Tada matsu dakedesu ka?"
"Watashi wa suisoku suru. Jitai ga keikakudōri ni susunde irunara, kaigun wa hijō ni bunsan shite ori, taiō suru made ni sū-jikan kakaru hazuda."
"Shikashi -"
"Wakatta. Kinchō shite imasu ne. Shikashi, Kirishima hime ni tsuite rikai shinakereba naranai koto ga 1-tsu arimasu. Sore wa, kanojo ga kichōmendearu to iu kotodesu. Shinjite kudasai, moshi kanojo ga gishiki no jikan o kasegeru to shinjite inakattara, watashitachi wa kesshite shuppatsu shinakattadeshou."
"Shikashi… middō~ei wa itta - Kirishima hime wa dore kurai mae kara keikaku shite ita?"
Cold sweat was running down his brow. Their voices... their hollow tones drew lines of fire down his brain.
The song...
For a moment, all he could do was listen in horror, then worked to calm himself. The voices... the voices were similar, but not the same. Different vocals, different tones. And though the reverb grated against his brain, there was no trace of it trying to claw into his mind. He glanced down at his palm, and to his relief, he wasn't sprouting teeth.
Nevertheless, he pulled a random song from his memory and mouthed the lyrics until the panic subsided.
Not the song. He took a deep breath, calming himself.
"Nan'nen mo. Sakihodo mo iimashitaga, saishin no chūi o haratte imasu. Matte… sorehanandesuka? Īe, anata no dekki-jō de. Hai, sono!"
"Sore wa tada no... Yobi no sensha no 1-tsudesu ka?"
"Manpai? Sore o torinozokimashou. Jōdan janakute, sugu ni demo kaishō shite kudasai. Tsukaikitte mo, moyashite mo, ki ni shimasen. Son'na mono wa watashi kara tōzakete kudasai!"
"Na, naze?"
"Shinjirarenai! Watashitachi ga kakaete ita mondai o oboete inai nodesu ka! Are wa watashi no abenjā no enjin o uchigawa kara tokashite ita nodesu!"
Things were coming together so quickly it was hard to keep track and none of it made sense. Drones were attacking Japan; that was his immediate issue. But now the song was proven to be here as well, working with the drones? How... how the hell did it all fit together? Fuck, he should have gouged the information out of Gengyo when he had the chance! Now his desire to leave the supernatural behind him was certainly going to screw him over.
But that didn't change his mission.
People were depending on him, that was all that mattered. Buy them time... that was all he needed to do.
That, more than anything else, was what steadied his nerves. He'd been courting death for so long now that the prospect was almost... comforting. He wouldn't have to live through whatever horrors the Abyss saw fit to put him through. All that was left was to sell his life as dearly as possible and pray that Gengyo could make use of it.
He briefly thought of home, then pushed the treasured memories aside. They would only distract him now.
This was the right thing to do, however hard or painful the sacrifice was.
He always wanted to be a soldier, hadn't he?
William steadied himself. Metaphysics or whatever could take a hike. There were three things about to rush the tunnel. The only question left was how quickly he could cross the distance.
He peeked out, trying to estimate. At that very instant, one of the creatures turned, and for a split second William felt their eyes lock before he ducked back out of sight, his heart pounding.
Shit, they saw him!
He was about to burst from cover but hesitated when he didn't hear any cries of alarm. Had he gotten lucky? They weren't shooting at him yet.
"Jissai no tokoro... Son'na mono wa ningen ni don'na eikyōwoataeru to omoimasu ka? Moeagaru jikan wa aru. Anata wa, soko no tatemono no ura ni itte kudasai. Nigeyou to shitara ikita mama tsukamaete kudasai. Ā, son'na me de minaide kudasai, tanoshīkara!"
Seconds ticked past. William waited, breathless. They still weren't shooting him, but the tone of their voices had dropped to a whisper. They must have known where he was, so what were they doing?
He was ready to commit to a charge when the footsteps resumed. Two sets of them that moved behind the cafe. Blocking his exits. They weren't... trying to take him alive, were they?
There was a single click of a heel from out front. Then another, and another. A shadow loomed through the window as the creature approached with exaggerated slowness. William could almost picture the Cheshire grin on its face as it spoke.
"Anata ga doko ni iru ka shitte imasu..."
Yeah, they were trying to take him alive. Tough. If he wasn't committed to a heroic sacrifice before, he certainly was now. Like hell he'd let himself be subject to the Abyss again. He grinned wryly. The expression only doubled in size when a dainty hand pressed against the window. They had guns and were very stupidly closing to grappling range.
Right where he wanted them.
It was all about perspective. He wasn't trapped, he was just waiting for the right angle.
"Watashi wa anata ga kikoeru..."
Yeah, keep coming, bitch.
The window flexed as the hand leaned against it. William tensed, falling into a familiar stance. His grin was almost manic now. Here, standing at death's door with the fight of his life on the other side for such a noble cause...
Damn shame he was about to die, this was the most alive he'd ever felt. His limbs seemed to thrum with energy.
This, right here, was what he had always trained for.
The window shattered, glass exploding inward as the creature effortlessly pushed through. Her soulless, glowing eyes locked onto him, both sets of them. The hat almost seemed to grin with delight to match its master. However, most of the effect was lost as the creature was barely tall enough to reach his chin, even with the hat, forcing it to look up to meet his eyes.
"BoooaaaAHHHHH!"
And just as quickly, its expression morphed into abject terror. Arms and tentacles flailing, it stumbled back, only to trip over its own feet and fall backward.
It never made it to the ground as William grabbed it by the collar. The teeth cut into his palm, with an ivory sensation that made his skin crawl. He wrenched it up to eye level, adrenaline was pumping as he was caught up in the rush.
"Come on! Don't be scared of little old me!"
He punched it square in the nose.
There was no spray of red. The beautiful face caved in like it was made of tin foil with a dull crunch. Its cry was cut off, but the hat howled in its master's stead. The maw opened as if to bite him, letting out a blast of hot air that reeked of engine exhaust. Something inside that gaping maw was moving, rushing out at him. Whether it was a tongue, gun barrel, or something else, it never got the chance to appear. A swift uppercut forced the jaws to close with a sharp clack.
There was a crash as something inside the hat exploded, a gout of flame and smoke erupting from around its teeth. The poor excuse for a headdress opened its mouth again before a third punch between its eyes caused it to howl once again.
Then a fourth.
And a fifth.
By the time he let the body drop, the abomination's head had been rendered down to scrap. At first glance, it was another type of drone; full of machinery and hidden compartments, leaking black oil and freezing to the touch.
It wasn't just the hat either. Past the crater in her face, the woman was much the same. Small fountains of sparks erupted from cracks in her pericline skin, and he could still make out a single eye in the wreckage. There was no leaking fluid; it had cracked in half like it was made of glass.
This thing wasn't human. He had suspected it, but to have confirmation-
"Imōto!"
The wall at the back of the cafe exploded inward in a shower of splinters.
William didn't hesitate; grabbing the corpse he hurled it into the breach. The emerging drone had just long enough to register the body of her counterpart with an expression of shock before impact, sending them both tumbling out of the cafe. But before William could follow up, the wall to his left exploded inward; the third drone bursting in.
It took one look at him, squeaked, then its guns swiveled to face him.
William threw himself flat an instant before they fired. The air itself seemed to explode around him, squeezing his lungs as the projectiles whizzed by overhead. The cafe didn't survive; the expanding gasses popped the wooden frame like a balloon.
Jumping back to his feet, he powered through the billowing smoke and came face to face with the drone. She – it – screamed, swinging her cane in a futile effort. He caught it effortlessly, tore the stick away then kicked her square in the ribs. If it even had ribs. Either way, the effect was the same, sending it sprawling to the ground.
There was a distinctive boot-shaped impression in its chest as he loomed above it. The metallic skin, or whatever it was, had shattered; hidden seams opening up around the point of impact. There was nothing organic about it at all, and yet it wore such a human-like expression of terror as it tried to crawl away.
"Onegaishimasu," it whispered, the reverb of its voice drawing lines of fire down his brain. "Yamete kudasai! Watashi wa shimasendeshita -"
Taking the cane, William drove the point down through its chest, right where the heart should be. He was rewarded with a gout of steam. Its eyes widened in panic, mouth opening in a soundless scream as he twisted the cane, widening the injury. Something popped inside it like a firecracker, and thick, oily smoke began to ooze from the injury.
He half expected it to explode; but it died with a warbling whimper, the glow from its eyes slowly dimming away. Whatever power plant these things had, it didn't appear to be the best.
With a final kick to the head, he left the drone to burn, only to flinch a moment later as more rounds sailed past his head. The near miss sent his ears ringing.
A final drone remained, its guns smoking as it dragged its damaged friend down the street. Although the wreck was one step away from the scrap heap, somehow it was still breathing! Its arms moved feebly, pawing at its fractured face like something out of Saving Private Ryan.
Yanking the cane out of his last victim, William sprinted at the pair, racing the clock before the guns could reload. The last drone saw him coming, dropped its friend in a panic, and tried to raise its cane for defense. Clearly, it had no experience or the unnatural strength to back it up.
Without finesse or flair, but with experience born of chopping wood, William swung with all his strength. His aim was true, striking right on the drone's fingers. The digits were pulverized; the cane went flying as the blow's momentum carried through, leaving the drone defenseless. It staggered back, making the mistake of watching its weapon sail out of reach. A mistake William punished mercilessly with a hard kick to the ribs, knocking it flat. A second kick beneath its chin knocked the drone's hat clean off.
It did not detach cleanly.
In fact, it wasn't a hat at all! It tore loose from the scalp with a screech of metal, taking the better part of the drone's head with it. There was no gray matter, just metal struts and sparks.
He finished them both with quick stabs to the chest, puncturing their generators, and watched them bleed steam until they stopped moving. Only then did he pause to take a breath, feeling the rush of adrenaline bleed from his system.
So... his unnatural strength was holding up, at least. He had the same number of holes he started with... things were going okay. He chuckled, humorlessly.
Positives.
Pulling himself together, he nudged one of the bodies with a boot.
Despite them being dead, the haze still surrounded them. The effect was almost impossible to describe. Two very different objects inhabiting the same space... but both were one and the same...
Grimacing, he looked away; the paradox made his eyes hurt.
Impossibilities aside, however, there was just something wrong about them he couldn't place. They were human, but not. Mechanical, but not completely that either. Moreover, they felt cold; even their corpses emitted a malice that hung in the air, making his skin crawl.
A roar suddenly erupted from down the street, startling him. Why did he let himself get distracted in a combat zone!?
Whirling to face the new threat, his feet got tangled up in the corpses at his feet. He stumbled, then fell back on his butt, cursing himself the whole time as something large and black barrelled down upon him from a side street.
It was the unholy union of a blue whale and a lobster; a shell black as pitch, save for the teeth ringing its maw; a running theme with these abominations, it seemed. The concrete beneath it fractured as it undulated towards him like a maggot with frightening speed. And though its eyes were covered by caged portholes, raw hatred billowed out like smoke.
It roared again, and William flinched as a wall of sound slapped him in the face. He tried to untangle himself, but it was coming in too fast! He couldn't see any guns, no, this thing was hell-bent on trampling him into the ground.
It was right on top of him, and William was convinced his life was over.
However, that was when the hollowness pushed its way to the surface. And with it... flashes. He saw the inside of a tight room, a table of knobs and dials running a series of calculations and adjustments. And deep in the bowels of the battleship, he saw the turrets as a blur of controlled chaos. Turning gears, clanking lifts, and a resounding clunk as enormous rounds were slotted into the chamber.
Rapid fire images.
The monstrous whale baring down on him, viewed through the lenses of binoculars. The spinning of dials.
The breaches slammed into place, a shout to brace!
An alarm seemed to ring out; once, twice, thrice.
In fire control, one final adjustment was made, and a single word was shouted.
Fire.
The air before him erupted, the recoil shaking his bones as the turret to his right fired with a deafening retort.
In an instant, the sounds of the monstrous whale were silenced. The rounds penetrated its nose head-on, and the creature simply erupted into a massive fireball.
Stunned as he was, William barely had time to flinch as flaming debris sailed past.
The guns...
His gaze flicked down to the right side turret, smoke still pouring from its barrels as machinery clunked and whirred inside as it... as it reloaded? He didn't know how, but... he just knew. He could almost feel the lifts hauling another enormous round into place. Which was impossible. He knew the battleship inside and out, where the fuck was the magazine on this thing?
How did-?
With a force of will, he released his pent-up breath. Now was not the time for questioning metaphysics or whatever! Combat! Focus!
A sudden gasp drew his attention back down the street. Next to the burning corpse of the whale was another of the feminine drones. Even without a living hat, there was no mistaking her black, carapace-like armor. The two writhing tentacles bursting out from her waist were also a good clue, each ending with a tripled-barrelled turret.
Though most of her expression was hidden by a toothy collar, one of her eyes was visible past locks of white hair, wide with fear. The tentacles swung to face him, barrels lining up.
Ah shit...
Without thinking, William reached for the hollowness. The impressions seemed to freeze at all once as if reacting to his attention, but they all jumped back into action an instant later. He didn't even need to think about operating the second turret, the hollowness was already responding. The turret on his left swirled with a groan of steel.
It was impossible to describe the sensation. His eyes were on target, the turret tracking his intentions, following a mental command that went even deeper than subconscious. It felt like his mind itself was writhing; hundreds of individual processes working at once to get the guns into position.
His turret locked into place.
The tentacles tensed, the abomination they were attached to threw her arm out in a wild gesture and a wordless scream.
An alarm seemed to ring in his head. Once, twice, thrice. Every cell in his body seemed to freeze, hanging on that last note. Waiting on a single command.
"Fire!"
Both sets of guns fired simultaneously, shaking the ground with their fury and filling the air with a cloud of smoke. It hung in the air for a split second, separating the combatants, before the rounds burst through.
William had a split second to see them coming before one struck him dead in the chest.
...
And... that should have been it. It should have killed him. Instead, it felt like he'd been hit by a sledgehammer! The air was driven from his lungs; the rest of the rounds sailing past his shoulders to strike the ground somewhere behind him.
But the pain paled in comparison to what he felt internally. His soul might have well been knocked loose. Everything about his body felt distant... and the hollowness was there to take its place, blooming outward to fill his being.
And yet... somehow he was alive. His tac vest and shirt had been blown to shreds, exposing his bare chest where a large, red welt was beginning to form. But other than that... there was no damage. Somehow, he was alive.
Dazed, he didn't stop to question it as raw training took over.
Kicking free of the corpses, he jumped to his feet, glaring out through the rapidly clearing smoke. The abomination was still there untouched, the houses on either side demolished. Her single eye was wider than a dinner plate.
He'd missed.
Another impression struck him. The grinding of lifts and a frenzy of movement. Both turrets were still reloading, ready in a few seconds.
Not soon enough.
The drone was moving, turning on its heel trying to run.
But turret number 3... yes, it was number 3, hanging from his waist, reported ready.
Instinct took over; impressions rushed through his mind's eye, preparing machinery that had nothing to do with his physical body, but at the same time working in perfect tandem with it. His hand shot down to the waist strap, closing around a hidden handle and drawing in a single movement.
Then a more familiar aspect of his training took over, bringing the turret up to eye level. No iron sights, just dead reckoning; staring out over the turret's flat top, lining up the middle-most gun with the retreating drone's back. He sent the mental command.
There was hesitation that rippled through the hollowness. The firing solution and range weren't ready-
"Fire!" he roared.
The guns boomed instantly. The billowing cloud of smoke they generated was almost immediately blown away as the rounds caught the monster in the back. It staggered, a great chunk torn away, then fell in a burning heap. It did not get back up.
As smoke rose from the corpse, William's hand dropped to his side as he panted. He tried to take a step, but the world swayed.
His feet... didn't feel right. Neither did his legs… or anything. He felt... drawn out. Like there was more to his body than there should have been. His gaze trailed downward, to his ruined clothes and the damned turret in his hand.
Something was wrong with him. He knew he was strong, but by all due rights, the hunk of metal should have weighed a ton. Instead, he was throwing it around as easily as a feather. And yet it wasn't light, or had any sensation of weight... it felt like a part of him: As easy as moving his own hand.
That same strength tingled in his skin. Somehow it didn't feel like flesh anymore. It felt cold... hard, unyielding. And the hollowness seemed to cheer from inside him. Thousands of voices. He swore he could hear Gremlin cheering along with him.
But the worst was his heart. There was no beat, only a never-ending thrum from deep inside him.
He didn't feel human anymore.
He swayed as he tried to take it all in. Just what the hell had the Abyss done to him?
Over the sudden calm, another roar shook the town. Deeper than even the whale. And following it, he swore he heard heavy footfalls and the slap of metal against the road.
The rest were coming for him. He didn't know how... it was like he could feel them drawing closer. Like... damned radar. However many that was.
Blearily, he looked around, trying to ignore the inhuman sensations building inside him. There was nowhere left to hide. The multiple blasts from the guns had blown away the surrounding buildings. Craters pockmarked the ground where shells had landed. The entrance to the tunnel was left exposed.
They knew exactly where he was and there was nowhere left to hide.
A calm settled over him, despite the horror of what he was feeling.
He knew what he had to do.
Bracing himself, he called on the hollowness once again. The voices inside had stopped cheering and... regarded his intentions with solemn acceptance. The two turrets on either side fired with a deafening retort. The tunnel might have been able to withstand earthquakes, but it couldn't withstand the impossible firepower brought to bear. The entrance caved in with a clatter of falling rock, sealing the tunnel shut.
Kirishima paused, halfway through carving a symbol in the scorched earth. Frowning, she followed the gazes of her escorts to the west where a column of black smoke rose into the sky. From the debris raining down... it was one of their So-transports.
...
How?
This entire plan had been calculated down to the tiniest detail. She had spent years collecting intelligence, years collaborating with Installations and other Princesses alike for a perfect picture of Japan's military might. No patrol had gone undocumented, no fleet had left port unchecked, and not a single vessel had escaped her notice!
Why then was she hearing a battleship in Rokkasho?
There shouldn't be a battleship here, that was impossible!
Now, thousands of tonnes of supplies for the ritual... gone.
"What. Happened?" she growled through gritted teeth, her head snapping to where two of her Ni-class cruisers were minding the remaining transports.
She had ordered three to the task.
The cruisers shrank back as her rigging growled.
"You let it wander off?!"
She should strike them down where they stood.
"N-Nina said she would... bring it back." One of them offered weakly, flinching as the Princess' rigging snapped its jaws at her.
"Where is-"
Another volley boomed. The entire fleet followed the sound, witnessing another column of debris rise above the buildings. The echo from the mountains made it impossible to judge the caliber, but they were big. And as the panicked cries for reinforcements came from the missing Ni-class, a third volley silenced her for good.
Another trail of smoke rose above the ruin. Kirishima glared at it with murderous intent.
"Find that vessel," she hissed, her fleet shrinking away in the face of her fury. "Grind it down to scrap and bring the fragments to me."
They rushed to obey as more gunfire resounded off the mountain. The So-Class and their remaining handlers huddled nearby; even the transports were culled by her wrath. As they should be. If they disregarded her orders again she would destroy them herself. But she forced herself to relax. One lost transport would not stop her; she could adjust to the diminished resources.
Now years of planning and scheming were about to come to fruition.
The summoning circle, carved into the scorched earth, radiated power. So close, so very close... They were supposed to have hours before Japan could muster any sort of response; how had this happened?
Nevertheless, the interruption was not a deal-breaker. She would be a poor strategist if she couldn't adapt to complications. All the pieces would come together in the end.
The fear lingered in the air.
Destruction wafted away on the breeze.
The foundation was laid. And around them brewed the storm, carrying with it the despair of an entire nation. The heart of Japan bled and she was the one who pierced it. All that remained was to strike the spark and allow the energies to coalesce. A new power would be born on this day. Unbreakable, unsinkable...
Rokkasho, the Mountain Installation. First of her kind and the dawn of a new age.
She could taste her victory. But she mustn't get excited, not just yet. Blood of innocence still had to flow to begin the ritual. The region didn't have much bloodshed in its history... but that was about to change.
The death of a battleship was a good start.
With a short transmission, she requested targeting data.
William waited, tense. Dazed. Confused. Hidden behind some rubble, he realized he might only be able to get a single shot off before the rest zeroed in on his position. It was a grim thought, but he latched onto it.
He didn't want to think about what the Abyss had done to him. He didn't want to imagine what was going on in his innards. He couldn't barely comprehend how or why, but he'd been changed. And after seeing what the Abyss did to the battleship... maybe he was better off dead than living like this.
Better than sprouting teeth. Better than losing his mind.
He glanced down at his trembling hand, confirming that the tooth mark hadn't grown a layer of ivory.
But... he was ready for this. He was ready. He had made peace with death long ago, and though his convictions kept him from pulling the trigger himself, this was a far nobler substitute.
His life for thousands of others.
Truly, there was no greater purpose than that. Whether it was God's providence that brought him here or pure bad luck, here he was.
Right where he was needed.
"God," he whispered, his throat tight. The noises were drawing close, picking at the edge of the destruction. He could almost feel them... pinging. Shadows flitted against piles of rubble. He swallowed, tightly. "You kept me safe, you kept me alive through eight months of hell. I don't ask for my life but for all those behind me. Help me to stand one last time."
The first monster appeared; another female, scantily clad with enormous tooth-filled gauntlets. It scanned the area, guns ready.
"Just please... don't let me be taken alive."
With that, William fell into the embrace of the hollowness, allowing the phantom sensations to take hold. Guiding them. He snapped up turret number 3 and fired.
His aim was true. The drone didn't so much explode as burst into a shower of flaming splinters
Then they were upon him in full. From around the ring of destruction, faces peered out from streets and windows, their glowing eyes fixed on him. A dozen of the monstrous seals burst into the scene, and from all around he could hear the tell-tale whir and click of guns lining him up in their sights.
An act he responded to in kind. The battleship felt like a part of his own body, the impressions coming thick and fast as his turrets found their marks, a plan, a firing solution, forming his mind.
For a split second there was total silence, then the air was rent by fire.
The enemy volleys came in droves, slamming against his body like a rocket-propelled hammer again and again. He swore he heard a metallic clang with each one that struck his skin. Sparks and metal fragments danced through the air creating fantastic burning trials.
However, his earlier claims of invincibility were mistaken as a round punched through his forearm. He felt the impact, his skin straining to hold until it became too much, and the projectile penetrated deep into his... his... something. The detonation rocked him, forcing him a step back before he recovered, gritting his teeth past the pain.
He had suffered worse in the Abyss; this was nothing!
Through the enemy fire, his own guns roared, one barrel at a time. Drones were eviscerated or blown onto their backs as near misses sent them tumbling.
And then all at once there was silence as every gun dropped into the reload position. How did he know that? He didn't know and he didn't care. He ducked his chin and charged the nearest drone. Another of the feminine variety, dressed like a hooker with massive tooth-filled gauntlets. Nothing too fancy; he ducked his shoulder and bowled it over, before crushing its head with a raised boot.
And then the howling began. The seal-like monstrosities bore down on him, jaws bared.
Once again the impressions came to his rescue. The two secondary turrets on the battleship blazed to life. Shells pummelled the charging monsters, punching holes through their black hides. They were right on top of him when his primaries reported ready.
With a single thought, the charging mass before him turned into fire and scrap metal.
Shots suddenly erupted from the wall of smoke; the survivors of the blast resumed their charge. There were three of them, badly damaged but still howling for blood. The first leaped for his face, its gun receding into its mouth as it went for the bite. William backhanded it without a second thought. He winced as the impact traveled up his arm, but it was far worse for the creature, whose upper body had been smashed into bits.
The secondaries hadn't been idle, focusing down the second. They must have hit something vital; the creature keened before falling to the ground in a heap.
The third was still coming, leaping for his face. Raising turret number 3 in with both hands, he brought it down in a crushing hammer strike. The drone disintegrated.
And the impressions... weren't too happy. Something in turret 3 had jammed and... they needed time to fix it.
They?
Who were they?!
But before the fight could resume, a volley of rolling thunder rolled over the battlefield, far deeper than any of the guns before it. A plume of smoke rose in the distance, drawing William's attention. He saw the incoming projectiles an instant before one caught him in the eye.
EDIT: Dec 11, 2023: Fixed grammar and spelling mistakes.
Goto jolted awake. Oh... he'd fallen asleep at his desk again, didn't he?
Ooyoda stood above him like a disapproving mother, papers clutched against her chest with one hand and two cups of steaming coffee in the other. "You should get some rest."
Phrased as a suggestion, her tone was anything but.
'You first', Goto wanted to snark back but wisely chose to refrain.
The Light Cruiser looked worse than he did, and that was saying something. Dark bags hung under her eyes and her clothes were disheveled from the days of toil. They both needed sleep, they both knew it, but neither was ready to give up and admit that.
Sighing, Goto tapped his desk, the offered brew joining the half dozen other mugs pushed to one side. Taking a sip, he refocused on the papers before him.
He couldn't sleep, even if he wanted to. There was just too much to do
Requests for information from Parliament, the Minister of Defence, the Maritime Staff Office and so many more were awaiting his attention. The JSDAF was asking for a timeline on the general stand-down. They had been running hard for weeks keeping the coasts and trade routes secure during Operation Cutback in light of diminished Kanmusu support. Planes, pilots, and equipment were being pushed to their limits. And now people with enough rank to throw around were getting antsy.
Story of his life. Everyone was tired, overworked and understaffed.
However much he wanted to tell the 9th Air Wing to grow up, lashing out wouldn't make things better. But eight hours of mandatory sleep his ass! Pilots... What did they have to complain about with a mandate like that?
And Goto didn't know what to tell them. It might be months before they could take their foot off the gas and stand down. Statistically speaking, Japan was the only nation still operationally capable of manning the Trans-Pacific convoy. The USN certainly didn't have the girls to spare, not after their losses.
He was loathed to admit it, but they would need to break into their limited supplies of repair buckets. Fix up a few of the girls and get them back on their feet to take the strain off the nation's limited resources.
No one was going to be happy with this.
Sipping his coffee, he rose, spine popped back into alignment as he ambled over to the window. The afternoon sun washed over him and he allowed himself a moment to bask in the radiance.
Things weren't going to get any easier. But, they might be seeing a new addition to the fleet soon. A spot of good news, at least.
The phone on his desk rang, shattering the calm.
Grumbling at the loss of his short break, he paused to allow his voice to mellow out before picking up. "Admiral Goto."
It was the Air Defence Command. Again. Prepared for another round of negotiating patrol schedules, he raised his mug for another sip. But as the voice on the other end spoke frantically, the coffee slipped from his grasp. Ooyoda jumped as it shattered against the ground, but Goto couldn't be bothered as the frantic call for assistance rang over the phone
"What?!"
----
The modern trains never ceased to amaze Nagato. It was embarrassing, to be honest; her, a battleship, fascinated about carts running around on rails. And yet, there was something oddly thrilling about crawling inside a metal tube hurling itself across the land. The way trees flew past the windows in a blur, the scenery changing before her eyes. There was just so much to take in, unlike the featureless surface of the ocean.
And the modern amenities and technology only made the experience better. Despite being commissioned a century ago, she couldn't imagine riding on the rough wooden seats of the era without climate control. She enjoyed her nice, plush cushions and air conditioning, thank you very much.
It all melded together into a warm blanket of comfort, the cool glass of the window pressed against her cheek, watching the world and all its problems slide away. It helped distract from the new problem creeping towards the coast at a sedate four knots.
Battleship though she was, the thought of what they might find still made her shudder.
...damaged...
Summoning was an art still in its infancy, but there was enough correlating evidence to set certain rules in stone. Though she trusted Akashi with her life, Nagato couldn't help but resent the repair ship for even suggesting that a damaged summon was even possible.
A summoning was sacred. The pleas of an entire nation calling out to the spirits of the past, begging their fallen protectors to rise once again. It was not a rebuild or commissioning, or any sort of physical refurbish, but a true summoning. Called from the grave and the depths of history.
Nagato, in particular, held it in a special place of reverence. She didn't have the luxury of sinking in battle like the others. No, her sinking was with the shame of being relegated to mere war reparations. A battleship stuck in her ways, confined to the docks as her nation burned around her. She hadn't been a gracious captive, to say the least. And in the end, her fate was sealed at Bikini Atoll. She still remembered the flash.
And then she heard the call.
Her first breath as a Kanmusu changed her whole outlook on life; literally and metaphorically. With this new, modern world around her and with the people she came to know... sometimes it was still hard to forgive herself for the things she believed.
And the summoning, the call, the oath; Shipgirls had many different names for it. The call to serve once again in humanity's darkest hour. For her, it was a second chance. To... correct herself.
But for everyone, it was a chance to finally live. To have a life. To live, laugh, love, all of it! That alone made it special for everyone.
But for a vessel's summoning to deviate from the norm... something dreadful must have happened. Or a terrible mistake. What if a particularly eager destroyer had answered the summons before she was ready? It was pure speculation, no one knew what happened after a vessel sunk. But it was no less horrifying to think about. An eager vessel, called to do her duty... awakening in a broken body... tossed about by the waves as she fought desperately to make it to shore.
Her throat clenched.
How could something so noble leave a vessel so stricken?
"Excuse me, Nagato-sama."
The battleship reluctantly peeled her gaze away from the passing landscape. A beaming stewardess hovered just outside the Kanmusu's booth, her arms ladened down with a stack of Bento Boxes. Nagato's stomach rumbled as her quartermaster did a quick inventory. A second rumble indicated that while she didn't necessarily need a resupply, a little top-up wouldn't hurt.
There was just one problem.
"I'm sorry, but our tickets didn't come with catering."
Nagato could feel her quartermaster pouting. She silently agreed with the sentiment.
It spoke to the urgency of their mission that the Admiral hadn't had the time to requisition proper military transport, not that she could blame him. Organizing the mission and grabbing the first mode of transportation available probably took more time than he had to spare.
"These are complimentary, Nagato-sama," the stewardess beamed, much to the battleship's surprise as she handed over the stack. "It is the very least I can do after everything you've done for us."
The boxes were warm, too, fresh out of the small kitchens provided. As her quartermaster did a happy jig at the turn of events, Nagato set the meals aside – temporarily, of course – and gave the stewardess her full attention. "Thank you for your generosity."
"Oh, it's nothing," the girl blushed. "But... there is one thing."
"Oh?"
The stewardess' blush deepened as she fiddled with the collar of her uniform. Glancing back and forth, she confirmed that the train car's aisle was empty. "Well... you see, it's a great honor to meet you... and we can't carry our phones while on the job, so..." Her face turned a truly interesting shade of red as she opened her shirt. "Could you please sign my bra?"
Nagato's smile turned slightly brittle. It was behavior she was... sort of used to at this point, yet it still caught her off guard when it happened.
She was far from the powerful hull of steel that commanded the respect of all who laid eyes on her, and yet so much more than a war machine. Everyone said that made Kanmusu more approachable... but it also invited these sorts. Although the stewardess didn't appear to be a prude, if a little insecure, she had gone right to the extreme without considering alternatives. And now that the offer was out there, Nagato didn't think she could sign anything else without offending the girl.
She could refuse outright.
But the girl had been so kind to them already...
Nagato took a quick look around the cabin. Akashi was still draped over her seat's armrest, a thin line of drool hanging from her lip as she slept. Likewise, the two Seaplane Tenders were out cold, curled up like kittens, both quietly snoring. More importantly, none of them appeared to be waking any time soon.
"Tell no one about this."
The stewardess squealed silently, dancing one foot, then held out a marker. Quickly and quietly, Nagato signed the modest garment. As the girl hurried away, Nagato returned to her seat with a sigh.
There were times when she loved the modern era and... other times when she wondered what exactly her country had become. And how exactly pornography had become so... prevalent?
But, that age-old conundrum could wait. Her stomach was getting impatient. She peeled back the plastic cover and breathed deeply of the rich, if slightly stale scent that wafted out. Ginger pork. While it was far from the quality she had come to expect from the mess in Yokosuka, she wasn't picky, and would never complain about a person's generosity.
As the scent filled the small cabin, Akashi stirred. Her nose twitched like a rabbit. "Is that food I smell?" she asked tiredly, eyes still closed.
Nagato hummed an affirmative, her mouth solely focused on chewing as her free hand passed the repair ship a box.
For a long minute, the only sounds were thoughtful chewing and the sounds of the train.
"Is it wrong that I want this to be a trap?"
Nagato paused mid-bite.
"It's messed up, I know," Akashi said glumly. Though she was eating, it was with the enthusiasm of an inmate on death row. "But Abyssals getting smarter is something we're used to. At least then I don't have to wonder how a potential wreck is still floating. There's no telling how bad the damage could be."
"But... she is still floating?" Nagato asked. It came out as more of a plea rather than a clarification.
The repair ship nodded. "As far as I know, yeah. I'm still waiting for Commander Gengyo to get back to me, though from his last report, she was very close to shore."
Nagato breathed a sigh of relief.
"Although, if it was a trap we would have heard about it by now, so..." Akashi shrugged, helplessly.
"Then we will treat her like the returning hero she is." Polishing off the last of the sauce with a clump of rice, Nagato reached for another box. "Akashi, you are the best repair ship I know, both in this life and the last. If anyone can heal our wayward ship girl, it is you."
Akashi opened her mouth, before accepting the compliment with a slight blush. The next silence didn't stretch as long as the last.
"What do you think it all means?"
What indeed?
The pork suddenly turned wooden in Nagato's mouth. "I'm... trying not to think about it."
A soft moan interrupted them. Somehow the tenders had squirmed into a new position. Chitose had curled up in her sister's lap like a cat, still asleep and muttering cutely to herself. Chiyoda on the other hand was groggily returning to the land of the living. Finding herself trapped and unwilling to dislodge her slumbering sister-ship, she held out a hand for a box that Nagato graciously provided. They ate in silence until Chitose began to stir, sniffing the air in her sleep.
"... s'op it..." the sleeping Tender murmured, pawing at the air. "...s'op teas'n me like that..."
Nagato looked away, fighting the urge to coo as the sleeping ship pouted adorably.
"...stap it... Georgia-"
"I knew it!"
Chitose's eyes snapped open. "Chiyoda!"
She tried to push herself up, not realizing that she'd been repurposed as a tray, and ended up tumbling to the ground with an undignified squawk. Chiyoda loomed over her.
"I knew it! You've been reading that fanfiction again, haven't you?"
Chitose went beet red. "W-Wha-? No! No, Chiyoda, it's not what you think!"
"Who's this Georgia then?"
"Uhh..." Chitose's jaw flapped uselessly, her voice getting weaker with every word. "T-The... battleship... Georgia?"
Chiyoda gaped, then threw back her head in despair. "Unbelievable! My sister has fallen for an Abyssal Submarine!"
Akashi dropped her chopsticks in shock. "What?"
"I-It's not what you think!" Chitose waved her arms, frantically.
"Then what is it?!"
"My sister found a fanfiction where she's saved from sinking by an Abyssal submarine." Chiyoda deadpanned.
Akashi visibly calmed down. "Oh... that's-... wait, what?"
"It's also shameless smut."
"Noit'snot!" Chitose squealed.
"She put her crew inside of you! Within the first ten chapters, too!"
Akashi gasped in horror, though it went ignored as Chitose pointed an accusing finger. "So you've read it too!"
"That's not the point!" Chiyoda shot back, blushing. "You're dreaming of an Abyssal submarine to come and carry you away! My sister's chastity had been corrupted!!"
"Wha- NO!"
Nagato continued with her meal, focusing on the taste of the food rather than the surrounding chaos. This was more akin to a Kongou situation than anything else. You couldn't stop it, and any attempt to intervene would only have you caught up in the madness.
Akashi was not so wise; her face alternating between anti-fouling red and bone white as the plot was gradually revealed. Not that Nagato was listening. She was safe in her bubble of Zen-like ignorance, born in the face of the chaos that only a Kongou could create. Sweet, blissful tranqilit-
"Nagato!"
She squeaked, Zen-like state shattered as Goto's voice rang from her radio. "Nagato! Respond now!"
"A-Admiral!" she spluttered, regaining her composure in an instant. "I'm here, what-"
"Abyssals have made landfall in the Aomori region!" Her blood ran cold. For a moment, she was frozen in place, mind reeling from the shock. Then calm assertiveness slammed into place as she felt herself shift into General Quarters. This wasn't a rescue mission anymore, it was an ambush.
"What are we dealing with? A single vessel?" That would be the forgone conclusion, considering why they were sent in the first place
"I don't know," Goto replied. "The Air Staff Office is crawling up my ass. Misawa Airbase was bombed less than ten minutes ago. Reports are scattered, but a lucky hit appears to have taken out the tower. No other word since then."
"We're dealing with carriers, then?"
"I don't know," he repeated, the words sounding like they were slipping through gritted teeth. "Everyone is mobilizing and no one has told me anything other than to get every girl we have up north!"
Returning to the present, Nagato realized the cabin had gone dead silent, the others listening in on the conversation in horror. Akashi in particular looked especially guilty.
"Akashi, permission to assume the position of flagship?"
It wasn't standard procedure, but these were far from normal circumstances. For all her bravery, Akashi was no front-line fighter.
The repair ship nodded. Instantly, Nagato took action. "Chitose, Chiyoda, prep as many planes as you can. Akashi, contact Gengyo and find out what we're dealing with."
Her fleet, and it was her fleet now, jumped into action. Her crew hadn't been idle, either. The navigation faeries were pouring over her charts and running time estimates to judge their position. Seconds later, the report came in. "Admiral, we are about to enter Noheji Station. Are there any more reports on Abyssal activities?"
"None, but you're the furthest fleet north that we have." Goto sounded like he was pulling out his hair. "Hang on."
The radio cut out.
"Nothing from Commander Gengyo," Akashi reported, fingers tight around her phone as he tapped the screen. "I'm not hearing anything over the radio either."
Nagato was about to reply when the entire train lurched, the brakes squealing as they suddenly decelerated, before settling to a complete stop. Nagato was thrown forward out of her seat towards Akashi, who squealed as thirty thousand tonnes of battleship flew in her direction. The collision with the repair ship was narrowly avoided. She did, however, put a hole through the carriage wall. Inertia plus battleship was a deadly combination. It didn't help that in her spasms to avoid Akashi, Nagato had gone through the wall face first.
A group of men in sharp suits gaped at her as she pulled out, but she was too concerned to be embarrassed. Looking out the window, the station was nowhere in sight.
Why did the train stop? The Abyssals couldn't be this far west already, could they?
Ordering her fleet to stay put, she burst out of the cabin and rushed forward to the locomotive. She wasn't the only one curious; people were leaning out of cabins, echoing the same question of why had they stopped. She had to slow her pace just to avoid crushing people with her mass.
When she got there, several people from first class were pestering a conductor, who in turn was blocking off the door to the locomotive itself. He was calm, handling the agitated crowd with a professionalism Nagato couldn't help but admire. Of course, all conversation stopped dead the moment she entered.
A battleship was hard to ignore.
"What's going on?"
"There appears to have been a scheduling error, Nagato-Sama," the conductor said hastily, putting on a brilliant smile. "A train from Rokkasho has arrived early and is blocking our entrance to the station. Rest assured, sirs, and ma'am, the station authorities are investigating the issue and we will resume our journey momentarily. Please, everyone, return to your seats. Complementary service will make its way around to compensate for the delay."
That mollified the crowd. Although there was a fair amount of grumbling about missing deadlines. The conductor smiled pleasantly, repeating the same message. His gaze, though, locked completely on Nagato, told a different story.
Something was up.
"Did they say why they arrived early?" Nagato asked, and the conductor's calm veneer cracked slightly. Motioning for her to come closer, he made sure no one else was in earshot before whispering.
"Nagato-Sama, they say Abyssals have attacked Rokkasho. The train was full of evacuees; everyone they could get out before the bridge was destroyed." he took a shuddering breath. "T-The police are in the station now, but... no one seems to know what's going on. Ah... everyone is afraid they're coming down the tracks!"
He trailed off, struggling to keep his composure. Abyssals were the stuff of nightmares and now these innocent people were experiencing them firsthand. Nagato laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. The consolation of a battleship did more than words ever could. He collected himself. "They want us to reverse the train and flee south. That will free up the lines for others."
Wise. Wiser still to keep it quiet. Panic was a far more devious foe.
Conscious of the people around her, Nagato whispered. "Thank you for your honesty, but my fleet and I need to get off this train before you depart."
"I'll open the door."
With the conductor's help, the fleet exited the train in short order. Much to the bewilderment of the other passengers who watched as the shipgirls sprinted up the tracks. No sooner had their feet touched the ground when the locomotive was thrown in reverse. At the same time, the wail of sirens echoed over the land.
Off to the north, the sky was black with billowing thunderheads, the boom of thunder almost drowning out the alarm. Even to the naked eye, nothing about the storm was natural; blooming out at an impossible speed. And the sheer malice it emanated chilled the blood in Nagato's veins.
She knew exactly what it was. Not just Abyssals, there was a Princess on Japanese soil!
But she mustn't allow herself to give into panic. That was growing increasingly difficult as she took in their status. A rescue slash salvage fleet consisting of a single battleship, a repair ship and two sea-plane tenders, and they were the first line of defense. Not the best combination. She could only guess at the composition of the enemy fleet, but with a Princess at the helm, they would be outgunned regardless. If the Abyssals struck now, with the majority of the shipgirls still far away in the Pacific... it would be a massacre. She could only hope that the JSDAF mustered in time to get them some air support or their defense was going to be short-lived.
"Uh, Nagato?" Admiral Goto came back over the radio. "Something interesting just came down. Our wayward Ship-girl is real! The last report Command Gengyo got to Misawa mentioned that battleship Musashi was present."
"Musashi!"
Make that two battleships! The second of the Yamato class had finally arrived! But in what state? Could she even fight? Who was she kidding; Musashi would fight regardless!
"Akashi, see if you can contact her," Nagato commanded, returning to the Admiral as they entered Kita-Noheji Station. "Admiral, do you have any orders for us?" Because she was conflicted over what to do. Counterattack or protect the fleeing populous?
As they entered the station, that question became harder to ignore. The platform was swarming with children, many of whom were crying. They overflowed from a train that was packed to bursting, and station officials were doing their best to cram them back in to send them all further south. Meanwhile, police were doing their best to hold back a mob flooding the terminal, trying to evacuate on the train themselves.
The noise was awful. The screams of children and shouted orders, it was chaos that tore at her heartstrings and firmed her resolve.
If the Abyssals wanted to strike at Japan and its people, then they would have to go through her first!
"We need to dislodge them," Goto responded at last, voice tight. "I'm looking at the charts; New Rokkasho is right in the middle of a mountain fortress, and I'm willing to bet that's why the Abyssals chose it as their landing site in the first place. If we allow them to dig in we'll never get them out."
Nagato nodded, ducking her head as they ran through the station by way of an unoccupied set of tracks. She couldn't bear to look at the platform, otherwise, she might stop to help. She had her mission, and it was more important than seeing a train of children to safety, however much it tore at her.
"I won't allow that, Admiral. Count on it."
"I've diverted the fleet. The carriers have planes in the air, but it could be hours before they arrive. Keep the Abyssals on the back foot by any means necessary. I'm informing the ADC of my intentions. Hopefully, I can get you some support, until then you're own your own. Don't die. That's an order."
"Understood, Admiral."
Looking back, she saw the others nod resolutely. They all knew what was at stake. Entrenched Abyssals on the mainland would be a death sentence for Japan. They could not allow that to happen!
"Chitose, Chiyoda, launch planes and find out what we're dealing with. Akashi?"
"Nothing from Musashi or Gengyo!" she panted, almost drowned out by the roar of propellers.
"Then we can only hope they're still alive. Keep trying!"
The drone of aircraft was growing overwhelming as the two tenders launched their full contingent. Reconnaissance planes and Zuiun bombers rallied, forming into their squadrons before bravely flying for the growing storm. It was a paltry force, Nagato knew, but it was all they had.
The fleet blazed out of Noheji, leaving the evacuating town behind as they sprinted at flank speed. They might have been human, but they still had the boilers and turbines of warships, allowing them speed and endurance that turned Olympic athletes green with envy. Nagato was forced to slow her pace just to allow the others to keep up, but it was still a blistering speed.
But as the clouds continued to billow outward and the distant crack of navel rifles could be heard, she could only pray that they weren't already too late.
----
The artillery never ceased; the enemy force appeared determined to raze Rokkasho to the ground, one building at a time. They were working their way east to west if the ever-approaching wall of exploding houses was any indication. Thorough bastards, William would give them that.
There didn't appear to be any other motive than mindless destruction, but it ended up working in his favor; time was what he needed, and he didn't let it go to waste.
He had to keep them from the train station by any means necessary; that included vandalism.
Putting his new supernatural strength to the test, every nearby road sign had been demolished, mangled beyond eligibility, and hidden as quickly as possible. It was an... interesting experience. He barely needed to try. Metal tore in his grip like paper, thick wooden posts shattered when he kicked, and he barely felt a thing. It was honestly more nerve-wracking than the approaching drones.
After watching the Abyss mold the battleship like putty, imagining what it could do to a human wasn't pleasant.
But William forced those thoughts aside, carrying out his work as fast as he could. Denial of intelligence. It was impossible to know what capabilities the drones had; global positioning or even maps of their own. But if it would confuse them for even a moment then it was worth the effort.
Now, with his task complete all he could do was wait, hiding in a small cafe next to the mouth of the tunnel. It had taken careful maneuvering to get in through the door, and there weren't a lot of places he could hide with the battleship; damn, but the hunk-a-junk was big. In the end, he hunkered behind a wall next to the wide bay windows. It kept him out of sight while providing just enough of an angle so he could watch the mouth of the tunnel unrestricted.
Even so, that didn't leave him with a lot of options. Once his cover was blown he'd need to move fast, close the distance, and rip the drones to shreds. That seemed to be the key. Unless they were stupid enough to be lured closer, then he could try to maintain the element of surprise. If he still had it at all.
Were the drones networked or operating independently? Either way, it would be stupid not to assume they weren't already aware of him. That meant closing the distance with an enemy that had guns galore and he could only use his fists. Lovely.
All the same, planning out his strategy, visualizing it in his mind's eye... it couldn't quite ease his nerves.
If only he had some sort of firearm to level the playing field. Oh, wait...
The turrets ignored his sarcasm, as did Gremlin.
All things considered, the battleship had gotten off worse than he did. All those guns, ammo, and armor were rendered down to create this contraption. From a majestic battleship to a glorified backpack. He could have used those guns right about now.
Come to think about it, what was Gremlin's purpose anyway? She must be inside the thing, but doing what?
As if in answer, that strange hollowness saturating his body beckoned, slipping outside his body into the battleship itself. And following it came this strange... impression. A flash, like he was back on board the battleship, seeing its components, its boilers. He saw... fire control. Dozens of knobs connected by kilometers of wires and cables to the enormous motors that rotated the massive turret.
And the impression... perked up, the feeling becoming a blur before a sound jolted back to the present.
The turrets were moving, rotating with a whir of straining motors to point slightly to the right, then stopped.
William blinked, momentarily lost as the sensation drained away, the hollowness returning to its usual state. But the battleship had responded.
"Are you reading my damn mind now?"
Another boom rattled the air, and the windows of the cafe visibly flexed from the pressure. The explosion that followed a second later shook the entire town. Dirt and debris rained from the sky, sounding like a hail storm against the cafe's roof.
But that wasn't what froze the blood in his veins. A deep, primal roar echoed around the hills. The windows shook in their frames and William felt the ground itself vibrate. It sounded like a moose mixed with the inner workings of a steel mill. And wasn't that a strange comparison.
The bombardments ceased immediately. An eerie silence settled over the mountains. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to stop his hands from shaking.
"God give me strength," he whispered as the wind drifted through the empty streets.
Deciding to sacrifice was one thing, waiting for the violence to commence was another matter entirely. He had faced death before and even welcomed it at one point. This, however, wasn't the long drawn-out inevitability he'd faced in the Abyss... this was the death in combat he had imagined his whole life.
The chaos, the noise of battle, the shots snapping past his ears. He could see the drones in his mind's eye; how they would turn to face him when he appeared. The boom of their cannons. In all due likelihood, his blaze of glory would be short-lived. The overpressure of their guns might not kill him – for whatever reason – but a direct hit would undoubtedly blow him to pieces. He would need to close the distance and fast, before they had the chance to aim.
He might get the jump on one of them, maybe even two, but then the rest would be right on top of him.
Although, getting blown to pieces might be preferable to becoming an oversized chew toy.
But there had to be a way he could break contact; hit-and-run attacks maybe. But with the battleship how would he-
Something clicked outside the cafe. William froze, heart pounding as the sound slowly got louder. Closer. A steady rhythm, the click-clack of something hard on the street. They were certainly footsteps, but were those... heels?
He shook his head at the absurdity of it. Who could be walking around in heels at a time like this?
The footsteps came to a stop in front of the cafe, just outside his line of sight. Carefully, he peeked around the wall and froze.
It... looked like a woman. William blinked, momentarily bewildered, before more details registered. Her skin was deathly pale, merging seamlessly with her white shirt, but standing out in sharp relief from her pitch-black leggings.
The only splash of color was a strange green and brown tattoo on her forehead.
But that was about as normal as she got. A collar made of teeth, each the size of William's hand, protected her neck, and the enormous hat she wore breathed. A tooth-filled maw glared out upon the world, with two glowing blue eyes sunken into the top. A pair of tentacles dangled from the monstrosity, wriggling of their own accord. And perched on either side were two double barrelled turrets, twitching back and forward as the woman looked about.
A pervading sense of wrongness surrounded her, enough to send a shiver of revulsion down his spine. The same haze as before clung to her form, almost twisting the light around her into something massive. Looming, yet invisible.
It looked human, but his instincts were screaming that it was anything but.
The woman, if it could even be called that, examined the area. A scowl rapidly spread across her features as she glanced from road to road. For the brief moment when her head turned, William caught a flash of glowing blue eyes.
"Ushinatta?"
William shrank back into cover as a second and then a third drone joined the first. They were virtually identical, right down to the canes they held.
But the voice...
There was a 'humph'. "Mochiron chigaimasu. Ningen-tachi wa watashitachi o bōgai shiyou to shimashitaga, teokuredeshita."
His blood ran cold. The words reverberated through the air, ringing hollow with an unnatural quality. The Song....
"Sorede... Hairimasu ka?" The first one glanced at... her? It's? compatriots, who shrugged in response.
"Īe, kuchiku-kan ga kochira ni mukatte oshikaeshite kuru no o machimasu. Mōnidoto Yabu-hori ni wa ikimasen."
"Busshuwakkingu?"
"Ningen ga omoshiroi to omou orokana koto. Shinjite kudasai,-sōde wa arimasen."
"Dakaranani? Tada matsu dakedesu ka?"
"Watashi wa suisoku suru. Jitai ga keikakudōri ni susunde irunara, kaigun wa hijō ni bunsan shite ori, taiō suru made ni sū-jikan kakaru hazuda."
"Shikashi -"
"Wakatta. Kinchō shite imasu ne. Shikashi, Kirishima hime ni tsuite rikai shinakereba naranai koto ga 1-tsu arimasu. Sore wa, kanojo ga kichōmendearu to iu kotodesu. Shinjite kudasai, moshi kanojo ga gishiki no jikan o kasegeru to shinjite inakattara, watashitachi wa kesshite shuppatsu shinakattadeshou."
"Shikashi… middō~ei wa itta - Kirishima hime wa dore kurai mae kara keikaku shite ita?"
Cold sweat was running down his brow. Their voices... their hollow tones drew lines of fire down his brain.
The song...
For a moment, all he could do was listen in horror, then worked to calm himself. The voices... the voices were similar, but not the same. Different vocals, different tones. And though the reverb grated against his brain, there was no trace of it trying to claw into his mind. He glanced down at his palm, and to his relief, he wasn't sprouting teeth.
Nevertheless, he pulled a random song from his memory and mouthed the lyrics until the panic subsided.
Not the song. He took a deep breath, calming himself.
"Nan'nen mo. Sakihodo mo iimashitaga, saishin no chūi o haratte imasu. Matte… sorehanandesuka? Īe, anata no dekki-jō de. Hai, sono!"
"Sore wa tada no... Yobi no sensha no 1-tsudesu ka?"
"Manpai? Sore o torinozokimashou. Jōdan janakute, sugu ni demo kaishō shite kudasai. Tsukaikitte mo, moyashite mo, ki ni shimasen. Son'na mono wa watashi kara tōzakete kudasai!"
"Na, naze?"
"Shinjirarenai! Watashitachi ga kakaete ita mondai o oboete inai nodesu ka! Are wa watashi no abenjā no enjin o uchigawa kara tokashite ita nodesu!"
Things were coming together so quickly it was hard to keep track and none of it made sense. Drones were attacking Japan; that was his immediate issue. But now the song was proven to be here as well, working with the drones? How... how the hell did it all fit together? Fuck, he should have gouged the information out of Gengyo when he had the chance! Now his desire to leave the supernatural behind him was certainly going to screw him over.
But that didn't change his mission.
People were depending on him, that was all that mattered. Buy them time... that was all he needed to do.
That, more than anything else, was what steadied his nerves. He'd been courting death for so long now that the prospect was almost... comforting. He wouldn't have to live through whatever horrors the Abyss saw fit to put him through. All that was left was to sell his life as dearly as possible and pray that Gengyo could make use of it.
He briefly thought of home, then pushed the treasured memories aside. They would only distract him now.
This was the right thing to do, however hard or painful the sacrifice was.
He always wanted to be a soldier, hadn't he?
William steadied himself. Metaphysics or whatever could take a hike. There were three things about to rush the tunnel. The only question left was how quickly he could cross the distance.
He peeked out, trying to estimate. At that very instant, one of the creatures turned, and for a split second William felt their eyes lock before he ducked back out of sight, his heart pounding.
Shit, they saw him!
He was about to burst from cover but hesitated when he didn't hear any cries of alarm. Had he gotten lucky? They weren't shooting at him yet.
"Jissai no tokoro... Son'na mono wa ningen ni don'na eikyōwoataeru to omoimasu ka? Moeagaru jikan wa aru. Anata wa, soko no tatemono no ura ni itte kudasai. Nigeyou to shitara ikita mama tsukamaete kudasai. Ā, son'na me de minaide kudasai, tanoshīkara!"
Seconds ticked past. William waited, breathless. They still weren't shooting him, but the tone of their voices had dropped to a whisper. They must have known where he was, so what were they doing?
He was ready to commit to a charge when the footsteps resumed. Two sets of them that moved behind the cafe. Blocking his exits. They weren't... trying to take him alive, were they?
There was a single click of a heel from out front. Then another, and another. A shadow loomed through the window as the creature approached with exaggerated slowness. William could almost picture the Cheshire grin on its face as it spoke.
"Anata ga doko ni iru ka shitte imasu..."
Yeah, they were trying to take him alive. Tough. If he wasn't committed to a heroic sacrifice before, he certainly was now. Like hell he'd let himself be subject to the Abyss again. He grinned wryly. The expression only doubled in size when a dainty hand pressed against the window. They had guns and were very stupidly closing to grappling range.
Right where he wanted them.
It was all about perspective. He wasn't trapped, he was just waiting for the right angle.
"Watashi wa anata ga kikoeru..."
Yeah, keep coming, bitch.
The window flexed as the hand leaned against it. William tensed, falling into a familiar stance. His grin was almost manic now. Here, standing at death's door with the fight of his life on the other side for such a noble cause...
Damn shame he was about to die, this was the most alive he'd ever felt. His limbs seemed to thrum with energy.
This, right here, was what he had always trained for.
The window shattered, glass exploding inward as the creature effortlessly pushed through. Her soulless, glowing eyes locked onto him, both sets of them. The hat almost seemed to grin with delight to match its master. However, most of the effect was lost as the creature was barely tall enough to reach his chin, even with the hat, forcing it to look up to meet his eyes.
"BoooaaaAHHHHH!"
And just as quickly, its expression morphed into abject terror. Arms and tentacles flailing, it stumbled back, only to trip over its own feet and fall backward.
It never made it to the ground as William grabbed it by the collar. The teeth cut into his palm, with an ivory sensation that made his skin crawl. He wrenched it up to eye level, adrenaline was pumping as he was caught up in the rush.
"Come on! Don't be scared of little old me!"
He punched it square in the nose.
There was no spray of red. The beautiful face caved in like it was made of tin foil with a dull crunch. Its cry was cut off, but the hat howled in its master's stead. The maw opened as if to bite him, letting out a blast of hot air that reeked of engine exhaust. Something inside that gaping maw was moving, rushing out at him. Whether it was a tongue, gun barrel, or something else, it never got the chance to appear. A swift uppercut forced the jaws to close with a sharp clack.
There was a crash as something inside the hat exploded, a gout of flame and smoke erupting from around its teeth. The poor excuse for a headdress opened its mouth again before a third punch between its eyes caused it to howl once again.
Then a fourth.
And a fifth.
By the time he let the body drop, the abomination's head had been rendered down to scrap. At first glance, it was another type of drone; full of machinery and hidden compartments, leaking black oil and freezing to the touch.
It wasn't just the hat either. Past the crater in her face, the woman was much the same. Small fountains of sparks erupted from cracks in her pericline skin, and he could still make out a single eye in the wreckage. There was no leaking fluid; it had cracked in half like it was made of glass.
This thing wasn't human. He had suspected it, but to have confirmation-
"Imōto!"
The wall at the back of the cafe exploded inward in a shower of splinters.
William didn't hesitate; grabbing the corpse he hurled it into the breach. The emerging drone had just long enough to register the body of her counterpart with an expression of shock before impact, sending them both tumbling out of the cafe. But before William could follow up, the wall to his left exploded inward; the third drone bursting in.
It took one look at him, squeaked, then its guns swiveled to face him.
William threw himself flat an instant before they fired. The air itself seemed to explode around him, squeezing his lungs as the projectiles whizzed by overhead. The cafe didn't survive; the expanding gasses popped the wooden frame like a balloon.
Jumping back to his feet, he powered through the billowing smoke and came face to face with the drone. She – it – screamed, swinging her cane in a futile effort. He caught it effortlessly, tore the stick away then kicked her square in the ribs. If it even had ribs. Either way, the effect was the same, sending it sprawling to the ground.
There was a distinctive boot-shaped impression in its chest as he loomed above it. The metallic skin, or whatever it was, had shattered; hidden seams opening up around the point of impact. There was nothing organic about it at all, and yet it wore such a human-like expression of terror as it tried to crawl away.
"Onegaishimasu," it whispered, the reverb of its voice drawing lines of fire down his brain. "Yamete kudasai! Watashi wa shimasendeshita -"
Taking the cane, William drove the point down through its chest, right where the heart should be. He was rewarded with a gout of steam. Its eyes widened in panic, mouth opening in a soundless scream as he twisted the cane, widening the injury. Something popped inside it like a firecracker, and thick, oily smoke began to ooze from the injury.
He half expected it to explode; but it died with a warbling whimper, the glow from its eyes slowly dimming away. Whatever power plant these things had, it didn't appear to be the best.
With a final kick to the head, he left the drone to burn, only to flinch a moment later as more rounds sailed past his head. The near miss sent his ears ringing.
A final drone remained, its guns smoking as it dragged its damaged friend down the street. Although the wreck was one step away from the scrap heap, somehow it was still breathing! Its arms moved feebly, pawing at its fractured face like something out of Saving Private Ryan.
Yanking the cane out of his last victim, William sprinted at the pair, racing the clock before the guns could reload. The last drone saw him coming, dropped its friend in a panic, and tried to raise its cane for defense. Clearly, it had no experience or the unnatural strength to back it up.
Without finesse or flair, but with experience born of chopping wood, William swung with all his strength. His aim was true, striking right on the drone's fingers. The digits were pulverized; the cane went flying as the blow's momentum carried through, leaving the drone defenseless. It staggered back, making the mistake of watching its weapon sail out of reach. A mistake William punished mercilessly with a hard kick to the ribs, knocking it flat. A second kick beneath its chin knocked the drone's hat clean off.
It did not detach cleanly.
In fact, it wasn't a hat at all! It tore loose from the scalp with a screech of metal, taking the better part of the drone's head with it. There was no gray matter, just metal struts and sparks.
He finished them both with quick stabs to the chest, puncturing their generators, and watched them bleed steam until they stopped moving. Only then did he pause to take a breath, feeling the rush of adrenaline bleed from his system.
So... his unnatural strength was holding up, at least. He had the same number of holes he started with... things were going okay. He chuckled, humorlessly.
Positives.
Pulling himself together, he nudged one of the bodies with a boot.
Despite them being dead, the haze still surrounded them. The effect was almost impossible to describe. Two very different objects inhabiting the same space... but both were one and the same...
Grimacing, he looked away; the paradox made his eyes hurt.
Impossibilities aside, however, there was just something wrong about them he couldn't place. They were human, but not. Mechanical, but not completely that either. Moreover, they felt cold; even their corpses emitted a malice that hung in the air, making his skin crawl.
A roar suddenly erupted from down the street, startling him. Why did he let himself get distracted in a combat zone!?
Whirling to face the new threat, his feet got tangled up in the corpses at his feet. He stumbled, then fell back on his butt, cursing himself the whole time as something large and black barrelled down upon him from a side street.
It was the unholy union of a blue whale and a lobster; a shell black as pitch, save for the teeth ringing its maw; a running theme with these abominations, it seemed. The concrete beneath it fractured as it undulated towards him like a maggot with frightening speed. And though its eyes were covered by caged portholes, raw hatred billowed out like smoke.
It roared again, and William flinched as a wall of sound slapped him in the face. He tried to untangle himself, but it was coming in too fast! He couldn't see any guns, no, this thing was hell-bent on trampling him into the ground.
It was right on top of him, and William was convinced his life was over.
However, that was when the hollowness pushed its way to the surface. And with it... flashes. He saw the inside of a tight room, a table of knobs and dials running a series of calculations and adjustments. And deep in the bowels of the battleship, he saw the turrets as a blur of controlled chaos. Turning gears, clanking lifts, and a resounding clunk as enormous rounds were slotted into the chamber.
Rapid fire images.
The monstrous whale baring down on him, viewed through the lenses of binoculars. The spinning of dials.
The breaches slammed into place, a shout to brace!
An alarm seemed to ring out; once, twice, thrice.
In fire control, one final adjustment was made, and a single word was shouted.
Fire.
The air before him erupted, the recoil shaking his bones as the turret to his right fired with a deafening retort.
In an instant, the sounds of the monstrous whale were silenced. The rounds penetrated its nose head-on, and the creature simply erupted into a massive fireball.
Stunned as he was, William barely had time to flinch as flaming debris sailed past.
The guns...
His gaze flicked down to the right side turret, smoke still pouring from its barrels as machinery clunked and whirred inside as it... as it reloaded? He didn't know how, but... he just knew. He could almost feel the lifts hauling another enormous round into place. Which was impossible. He knew the battleship inside and out, where the fuck was the magazine on this thing?
How did-?
With a force of will, he released his pent-up breath. Now was not the time for questioning metaphysics or whatever! Combat! Focus!
A sudden gasp drew his attention back down the street. Next to the burning corpse of the whale was another of the feminine drones. Even without a living hat, there was no mistaking her black, carapace-like armor. The two writhing tentacles bursting out from her waist were also a good clue, each ending with a tripled-barrelled turret.
Though most of her expression was hidden by a toothy collar, one of her eyes was visible past locks of white hair, wide with fear. The tentacles swung to face him, barrels lining up.
Ah shit...
Without thinking, William reached for the hollowness. The impressions seemed to freeze at all once as if reacting to his attention, but they all jumped back into action an instant later. He didn't even need to think about operating the second turret, the hollowness was already responding. The turret on his left swirled with a groan of steel.
It was impossible to describe the sensation. His eyes were on target, the turret tracking his intentions, following a mental command that went even deeper than subconscious. It felt like his mind itself was writhing; hundreds of individual processes working at once to get the guns into position.
His turret locked into place.
The tentacles tensed, the abomination they were attached to threw her arm out in a wild gesture and a wordless scream.
An alarm seemed to ring in his head. Once, twice, thrice. Every cell in his body seemed to freeze, hanging on that last note. Waiting on a single command.
"Fire!"
Both sets of guns fired simultaneously, shaking the ground with their fury and filling the air with a cloud of smoke. It hung in the air for a split second, separating the combatants, before the rounds burst through.
William had a split second to see them coming before one struck him dead in the chest.
...
And... that should have been it. It should have killed him. Instead, it felt like he'd been hit by a sledgehammer! The air was driven from his lungs; the rest of the rounds sailing past his shoulders to strike the ground somewhere behind him.
But the pain paled in comparison to what he felt internally. His soul might have well been knocked loose. Everything about his body felt distant... and the hollowness was there to take its place, blooming outward to fill his being.
And yet... somehow he was alive. His tac vest and shirt had been blown to shreds, exposing his bare chest where a large, red welt was beginning to form. But other than that... there was no damage. Somehow, he was alive.
Dazed, he didn't stop to question it as raw training took over.
Kicking free of the corpses, he jumped to his feet, glaring out through the rapidly clearing smoke. The abomination was still there untouched, the houses on either side demolished. Her single eye was wider than a dinner plate.
He'd missed.
Another impression struck him. The grinding of lifts and a frenzy of movement. Both turrets were still reloading, ready in a few seconds.
Not soon enough.
The drone was moving, turning on its heel trying to run.
But turret number 3... yes, it was number 3, hanging from his waist, reported ready.
Instinct took over; impressions rushed through his mind's eye, preparing machinery that had nothing to do with his physical body, but at the same time working in perfect tandem with it. His hand shot down to the waist strap, closing around a hidden handle and drawing in a single movement.
Then a more familiar aspect of his training took over, bringing the turret up to eye level. No iron sights, just dead reckoning; staring out over the turret's flat top, lining up the middle-most gun with the retreating drone's back. He sent the mental command.
There was hesitation that rippled through the hollowness. The firing solution and range weren't ready-
"Fire!" he roared.
The guns boomed instantly. The billowing cloud of smoke they generated was almost immediately blown away as the rounds caught the monster in the back. It staggered, a great chunk torn away, then fell in a burning heap. It did not get back up.
As smoke rose from the corpse, William's hand dropped to his side as he panted. He tried to take a step, but the world swayed.
His feet... didn't feel right. Neither did his legs… or anything. He felt... drawn out. Like there was more to his body than there should have been. His gaze trailed downward, to his ruined clothes and the damned turret in his hand.
Something was wrong with him. He knew he was strong, but by all due rights, the hunk of metal should have weighed a ton. Instead, he was throwing it around as easily as a feather. And yet it wasn't light, or had any sensation of weight... it felt like a part of him: As easy as moving his own hand.
That same strength tingled in his skin. Somehow it didn't feel like flesh anymore. It felt cold... hard, unyielding. And the hollowness seemed to cheer from inside him. Thousands of voices. He swore he could hear Gremlin cheering along with him.
But the worst was his heart. There was no beat, only a never-ending thrum from deep inside him.
He didn't feel human anymore.
He swayed as he tried to take it all in. Just what the hell had the Abyss done to him?
Over the sudden calm, another roar shook the town. Deeper than even the whale. And following it, he swore he heard heavy footfalls and the slap of metal against the road.
The rest were coming for him. He didn't know how... it was like he could feel them drawing closer. Like... damned radar. However many that was.
Blearily, he looked around, trying to ignore the inhuman sensations building inside him. There was nowhere left to hide. The multiple blasts from the guns had blown away the surrounding buildings. Craters pockmarked the ground where shells had landed. The entrance to the tunnel was left exposed.
They knew exactly where he was and there was nowhere left to hide.
A calm settled over him, despite the horror of what he was feeling.
He knew what he had to do.
Bracing himself, he called on the hollowness once again. The voices inside had stopped cheering and... regarded his intentions with solemn acceptance. The two turrets on either side fired with a deafening retort. The tunnel might have been able to withstand earthquakes, but it couldn't withstand the impossible firepower brought to bear. The entrance caved in with a clatter of falling rock, sealing the tunnel shut.
----
Kirishima paused, halfway through carving a symbol in the scorched earth. Frowning, she followed the gazes of her escorts to the west where a column of black smoke rose into the sky. From the debris raining down... it was one of their So-transports.
...
How?
This entire plan had been calculated down to the tiniest detail. She had spent years collecting intelligence, years collaborating with Installations and other Princesses alike for a perfect picture of Japan's military might. No patrol had gone undocumented, no fleet had left port unchecked, and not a single vessel had escaped her notice!
Why then was she hearing a battleship in Rokkasho?
There shouldn't be a battleship here, that was impossible!
Now, thousands of tonnes of supplies for the ritual... gone.
"What. Happened?" she growled through gritted teeth, her head snapping to where two of her Ni-class cruisers were minding the remaining transports.
She had ordered three to the task.
The cruisers shrank back as her rigging growled.
"You let it wander off?!"
She should strike them down where they stood.
"N-Nina said she would... bring it back." One of them offered weakly, flinching as the Princess' rigging snapped its jaws at her.
"Where is-"
Another volley boomed. The entire fleet followed the sound, witnessing another column of debris rise above the buildings. The echo from the mountains made it impossible to judge the caliber, but they were big. And as the panicked cries for reinforcements came from the missing Ni-class, a third volley silenced her for good.
Another trail of smoke rose above the ruin. Kirishima glared at it with murderous intent.
"Find that vessel," she hissed, her fleet shrinking away in the face of her fury. "Grind it down to scrap and bring the fragments to me."
They rushed to obey as more gunfire resounded off the mountain. The So-Class and their remaining handlers huddled nearby; even the transports were culled by her wrath. As they should be. If they disregarded her orders again she would destroy them herself. But she forced herself to relax. One lost transport would not stop her; she could adjust to the diminished resources.
Now years of planning and scheming were about to come to fruition.
The summoning circle, carved into the scorched earth, radiated power. So close, so very close... They were supposed to have hours before Japan could muster any sort of response; how had this happened?
Nevertheless, the interruption was not a deal-breaker. She would be a poor strategist if she couldn't adapt to complications. All the pieces would come together in the end.
The fear lingered in the air.
Destruction wafted away on the breeze.
The foundation was laid. And around them brewed the storm, carrying with it the despair of an entire nation. The heart of Japan bled and she was the one who pierced it. All that remained was to strike the spark and allow the energies to coalesce. A new power would be born on this day. Unbreakable, unsinkable...
Rokkasho, the Mountain Installation. First of her kind and the dawn of a new age.
She could taste her victory. But she mustn't get excited, not just yet. Blood of innocence still had to flow to begin the ritual. The region didn't have much bloodshed in its history... but that was about to change.
The death of a battleship was a good start.
With a short transmission, she requested targeting data.
----
William waited, tense. Dazed. Confused. Hidden behind some rubble, he realized he might only be able to get a single shot off before the rest zeroed in on his position. It was a grim thought, but he latched onto it.
He didn't want to think about what the Abyss had done to him. He didn't want to imagine what was going on in his innards. He couldn't barely comprehend how or why, but he'd been changed. And after seeing what the Abyss did to the battleship... maybe he was better off dead than living like this.
Better than sprouting teeth. Better than losing his mind.
He glanced down at his trembling hand, confirming that the tooth mark hadn't grown a layer of ivory.
But... he was ready for this. He was ready. He had made peace with death long ago, and though his convictions kept him from pulling the trigger himself, this was a far nobler substitute.
His life for thousands of others.
Truly, there was no greater purpose than that. Whether it was God's providence that brought him here or pure bad luck, here he was.
Right where he was needed.
"God," he whispered, his throat tight. The noises were drawing close, picking at the edge of the destruction. He could almost feel them... pinging. Shadows flitted against piles of rubble. He swallowed, tightly. "You kept me safe, you kept me alive through eight months of hell. I don't ask for my life but for all those behind me. Help me to stand one last time."
The first monster appeared; another female, scantily clad with enormous tooth-filled gauntlets. It scanned the area, guns ready.
"Just please... don't let me be taken alive."
With that, William fell into the embrace of the hollowness, allowing the phantom sensations to take hold. Guiding them. He snapped up turret number 3 and fired.
His aim was true. The drone didn't so much explode as burst into a shower of flaming splinters
Then they were upon him in full. From around the ring of destruction, faces peered out from streets and windows, their glowing eyes fixed on him. A dozen of the monstrous seals burst into the scene, and from all around he could hear the tell-tale whir and click of guns lining him up in their sights.
An act he responded to in kind. The battleship felt like a part of his own body, the impressions coming thick and fast as his turrets found their marks, a plan, a firing solution, forming his mind.
For a split second there was total silence, then the air was rent by fire.
The enemy volleys came in droves, slamming against his body like a rocket-propelled hammer again and again. He swore he heard a metallic clang with each one that struck his skin. Sparks and metal fragments danced through the air creating fantastic burning trials.
However, his earlier claims of invincibility were mistaken as a round punched through his forearm. He felt the impact, his skin straining to hold until it became too much, and the projectile penetrated deep into his... his... something. The detonation rocked him, forcing him a step back before he recovered, gritting his teeth past the pain.
He had suffered worse in the Abyss; this was nothing!
Through the enemy fire, his own guns roared, one barrel at a time. Drones were eviscerated or blown onto their backs as near misses sent them tumbling.
And then all at once there was silence as every gun dropped into the reload position. How did he know that? He didn't know and he didn't care. He ducked his chin and charged the nearest drone. Another of the feminine variety, dressed like a hooker with massive tooth-filled gauntlets. Nothing too fancy; he ducked his shoulder and bowled it over, before crushing its head with a raised boot.
And then the howling began. The seal-like monstrosities bore down on him, jaws bared.
Once again the impressions came to his rescue. The two secondary turrets on the battleship blazed to life. Shells pummelled the charging monsters, punching holes through their black hides. They were right on top of him when his primaries reported ready.
With a single thought, the charging mass before him turned into fire and scrap metal.
Shots suddenly erupted from the wall of smoke; the survivors of the blast resumed their charge. There were three of them, badly damaged but still howling for blood. The first leaped for his face, its gun receding into its mouth as it went for the bite. William backhanded it without a second thought. He winced as the impact traveled up his arm, but it was far worse for the creature, whose upper body had been smashed into bits.
The secondaries hadn't been idle, focusing down the second. They must have hit something vital; the creature keened before falling to the ground in a heap.
The third was still coming, leaping for his face. Raising turret number 3 in with both hands, he brought it down in a crushing hammer strike. The drone disintegrated.
And the impressions... weren't too happy. Something in turret 3 had jammed and... they needed time to fix it.
They?
Who were they?!
But before the fight could resume, a volley of rolling thunder rolled over the battlefield, far deeper than any of the guns before it. A plume of smoke rose in the distance, drawing William's attention. He saw the incoming projectiles an instant before one caught him in the eye.
TRANSLATIONS
"Ushinatta?"
"Lost?:
-
There was a 'humph'. "Mochiron chigaimasu. Ningen-tachi wa watashitachi o bōgai shiyou to shimashitaga, teokuredeshita."
"Of course not. The humans tried to sabotage us but they were too little to late."
-
"Sorede... Hairimasu ka?" The first one glanced at... her? It's? compatriots, who shrugged in response.
"So... do we go in?"
-
"Īe, kuchiku-kan ga kochira ni mukatte oshikaeshite kuru no o machimasu. Mōnidoto Yabu-hori ni wa ikimasen."
"No. We wait for the destroyers to push them back towards us. I'm not going bushwhacking again."
-
"Busshuwakkingu?"
"Bushwhacking?"
-
"Ningen ga omoshiroi to omou orokana koto. Shinjite kudasai,-sōde wa arimasen."
"A stupid thing that humans find entertaining. Trust me, it's not."
-
"Dakaranani? Tada matsu dakedesu ka?"
"So, what? We just wait?"
-
"Watashi wa suisoku suru. Jitai ga keikakudōri ni susunde irunara, kaigun wa hijō ni bunsan shite ori, taiō suru made ni sū-jikan kakaru hazuda."
"I guess. If things have gone according to plan, the Navy should be so scattered it'll take hours for them to respond."
-
"Shikashi -"
"But-"
-
"Wakatta. Kinchō shite imasu ne. Shikashi, Kirishima hime ni tsuite rikai shinakereba naranai koto ga 1-tsu arimasu. Sore wa, kanojo ga kichōmendearu to iu kotodesu. Shinjite kudasai, moshi kanojo ga gishiki no jikan o kasegeru to shinjite inakattara, watashitachi wa kesshite shuppatsu shinakattadeshou."
"I get it. You're nervous. But one thing you have to understand about Kirishima-Hime is that she is meticulous. Trust me, if she didn't believe she could buy time for the ritual, we would never have set out."
-
"Shikashi… middō~ei wa itta - Kirishima hime wa dore kurai mae kara keikaku shite ita?"
"But... Midway said- How long has Kirishima-Hime been planning this?"
-
"Nan'nen mo. Sakihodo mo iimashitaga, saishin no chūi o haratte imasu. Matte… sorehanandesuka? Īe, anata no dekki-jō de. Hai, sono!"
"Years. Like I said, meticulous. Wait... what is that? No, on your deck. Yes, that!"
-
"Sore wa tada no... Yobi no sensha no 1-tsudesu ka?"
"Its just a... one of those spare tanks?"
-
"Manpai? Sore o torinozokimashou. Jōdan janakute, sugu ni demo kaishō shite kudasai. Tsukaikitte mo, moyashite mo, ki ni shimasen. Son'na mono wa watashi kara tōzakete kudasai!"
"Full? Get rid of it. I'm not even joking, as soon as you can get rid of it. Use it up, burn it, I don't care. Just get that stuff away from me!"
-
"Na, naze?"
"W-Why?"
-
"Shinjirarenai! Watashitachi ga kakaete ita mondai o oboete inai nodesu ka! Are wa watashi no abenjā no enjin o uchigawa kara tokashite ita nodesu!"
"Unbelievable! Don't you remember the problems we had! That stuff was melting my Avenger's engines from the inside out!"
-
"Jissai no tokoro... Son'na mono wa ningen ni don'na eikyōwoataeru to omoimasu ka? Moeagaru jikan wa aru. Anata wa, soko no tatemono no ura ni itte kudasai. Nigeyou to shitara ikita mama tsukamaete kudasai. Ā, son'na me de minaide kudasai, tanoshīkara!"
"Actually... what do you think that stuff will do to a human? We got some time to burn. You, head to the back of that building there. Take it alive if it tries to run. Oh, don't give me that look, it'll be fun!"
-
"Anata ga doko ni iru ka shitte imasu..."
"I know where you are."
-
"Watashi wa anata ga kikoeru..."
"I can hear you..."
-
"Imōto!"
"Sister!"
-
"Onegaishimasu," it whispered, the reverb of its voice drawing lines of fire down his brain. "Yamete kudasai! Watashi wa shimasendeshita -"
"Please / Please don't! I didn't-"
"Ushinatta?"
"Lost?:
-
There was a 'humph'. "Mochiron chigaimasu. Ningen-tachi wa watashitachi o bōgai shiyou to shimashitaga, teokuredeshita."
"Of course not. The humans tried to sabotage us but they were too little to late."
-
"Sorede... Hairimasu ka?" The first one glanced at... her? It's? compatriots, who shrugged in response.
"So... do we go in?"
-
"Īe, kuchiku-kan ga kochira ni mukatte oshikaeshite kuru no o machimasu. Mōnidoto Yabu-hori ni wa ikimasen."
"No. We wait for the destroyers to push them back towards us. I'm not going bushwhacking again."
-
"Busshuwakkingu?"
"Bushwhacking?"
-
"Ningen ga omoshiroi to omou orokana koto. Shinjite kudasai,-sōde wa arimasen."
"A stupid thing that humans find entertaining. Trust me, it's not."
-
"Dakaranani? Tada matsu dakedesu ka?"
"So, what? We just wait?"
-
"Watashi wa suisoku suru. Jitai ga keikakudōri ni susunde irunara, kaigun wa hijō ni bunsan shite ori, taiō suru made ni sū-jikan kakaru hazuda."
"I guess. If things have gone according to plan, the Navy should be so scattered it'll take hours for them to respond."
-
"Shikashi -"
"But-"
-
"Wakatta. Kinchō shite imasu ne. Shikashi, Kirishima hime ni tsuite rikai shinakereba naranai koto ga 1-tsu arimasu. Sore wa, kanojo ga kichōmendearu to iu kotodesu. Shinjite kudasai, moshi kanojo ga gishiki no jikan o kasegeru to shinjite inakattara, watashitachi wa kesshite shuppatsu shinakattadeshou."
"I get it. You're nervous. But one thing you have to understand about Kirishima-Hime is that she is meticulous. Trust me, if she didn't believe she could buy time for the ritual, we would never have set out."
-
"Shikashi… middō~ei wa itta - Kirishima hime wa dore kurai mae kara keikaku shite ita?"
"But... Midway said- How long has Kirishima-Hime been planning this?"
-
"Nan'nen mo. Sakihodo mo iimashitaga, saishin no chūi o haratte imasu. Matte… sorehanandesuka? Īe, anata no dekki-jō de. Hai, sono!"
"Years. Like I said, meticulous. Wait... what is that? No, on your deck. Yes, that!"
-
"Sore wa tada no... Yobi no sensha no 1-tsudesu ka?"
"Its just a... one of those spare tanks?"
-
"Manpai? Sore o torinozokimashou. Jōdan janakute, sugu ni demo kaishō shite kudasai. Tsukaikitte mo, moyashite mo, ki ni shimasen. Son'na mono wa watashi kara tōzakete kudasai!"
"Full? Get rid of it. I'm not even joking, as soon as you can get rid of it. Use it up, burn it, I don't care. Just get that stuff away from me!"
-
"Na, naze?"
"W-Why?"
-
"Shinjirarenai! Watashitachi ga kakaete ita mondai o oboete inai nodesu ka! Are wa watashi no abenjā no enjin o uchigawa kara tokashite ita nodesu!"
"Unbelievable! Don't you remember the problems we had! That stuff was melting my Avenger's engines from the inside out!"
-
"Jissai no tokoro... Son'na mono wa ningen ni don'na eikyōwoataeru to omoimasu ka? Moeagaru jikan wa aru. Anata wa, soko no tatemono no ura ni itte kudasai. Nigeyou to shitara ikita mama tsukamaete kudasai. Ā, son'na me de minaide kudasai, tanoshīkara!"
"Actually... what do you think that stuff will do to a human? We got some time to burn. You, head to the back of that building there. Take it alive if it tries to run. Oh, don't give me that look, it'll be fun!"
-
"Anata ga doko ni iru ka shitte imasu..."
"I know where you are."
-
"Watashi wa anata ga kikoeru..."
"I can hear you..."
-
"Imōto!"
"Sister!"
-
"Onegaishimasu," it whispered, the reverb of its voice drawing lines of fire down his brain. "Yamete kudasai! Watashi wa shimasendeshita -"
"Please / Please don't! I didn't-"
Well... this is a long one. And I have to say this is probably the weakest of the Rokkasho chapters. It was a pain to write, a pain to edit and it still feels clunky in places.
And as for the reference, eh, I enjoy Jesse's work. It was actually the fic that got me interest in the source material.
Last part should be up by the end of the weekend!
And as for the reference, eh, I enjoy Jesse's work. It was actually the fic that got me interest in the source material.
Last part should be up by the end of the weekend!
Last edited:
- Location
- Oregon, USA
I feel bad for the Abyssals here.
I guess that's war.
I guess that's war.
Chapter 12: Rokkasho Part 3
The Captain moaned as she slowly came to. The first thing she realized was that she wasn't on the bridge anymore. She was lying on the ground like a common landlubber.
Well, that was... dangerously irresponsible of her. A ship's Captain should always be on the bridge, so what was she doing here?
As the fairy pondered these great, all-important questions, the ground shook. Muted pops came from somewhere in the distance, and a giant hand seemed to squeeze her tiny body. This confused her even more. She couldn't quite process why she wasn't on the bridge, nor the series of events that led her to be lying on the ground.
Like a landlubber.
And why was there so much smoke in the air?
Suddenly, she was grabbed by the arms and was dragged away.
"...d-desu." she whimpered.
Whoever they were, they weren't being gentle. Her tiny knees scraped against the ground at a breakneck pace.
Who were they? Why couldn't she see? Oh yeah, her eyes were still closed. Why didn't she think of that?
The Captain eased her eyes open, just in time to see a green, leafy bush rush up to meet her. Then her rescuers were dragging her through a tangle of branches and roots before arriving at the plant's tree-like core. It looked vaguely like the inside of a big green tent, but the Captain had little time to comprehend that as she was lowered gently onto a pad of moss.
There were more pops from somewhere and the entire bush shook. Only then did the Captain see dozens of other fairies clustered around, ducking as leaves rained down around them.
Why weren't they at their posts? She would keelhaul the lot of them! How dare they abandon ship when Musashi-
Musashi!
Everything came rushing back. Landfall, the evacuation, caving in the tunnel, Musashi's last stand, the enemy fleet closing in... the shells flying for the bridge!
Sound abruptly returned to the world. The muted pops deepened into the deafening cracks of navel rifles. They were still under siege! The Captain tried to stand, but was forced to lie back into the bed of moss by her two rescuers.
"Desu, desu!" They apologized fervently, pulling back her eyelids at staring into her beady irises.
"Desu." one said. The Captain... probably didn't have a concussion.
"Desu?" The other glared at her. Probably?
Good enough!
Now thoroughly awake, the Captain slapped away their wandering hands and demanded a report.
Instantly, the two were pushed away by another fairy, whom the Captain recognized as one of the senior deck officers. Her report was concise: While dispatching the carriers, Musashi's ramming maneuvers had thrown the deck officer, and a good number of the anti-air crews overboard. There were about thirty of them. With the vessel engaged, the decision was made to hunker down nearby to not split the battleship's attention. They would wait for the battle to be resolved before being recovered, but...
As more navel rifles rang out, none of them being Musashi's 46cm guns, a pit of dread grew in the Captain's gut. Then she asked what happened next.
The officer hesitated, then delivered the bad news.
"Desu."
It wasn't just a fleet. There was a battleship Princess. Her shells had taken half of the bridge clean off. Somehow the Captain had been thrown free of the blast, but the rest-
"Desu?!" The Captain jumped up, scattering fairies right and left as she raced out of the bush. She was caught by a profusely apologizing deck officer before she could burst out of cover, but she was close enough to the edge to see the horrifying sight.
The town had been reduced to a pockmarked hellscape of shattered buildings and rubble. And in the heart of the devastation was Musashi. The mighty battleship was staggering, his guns silent. More rifles cracked, slamming into his hull. Abyssals surrounded the battleship; cruisers and destroyers had cornered him against the mountainside and were pummelling him again and again.
Though their smaller calibers had no chance of penetrating Musashi's citadel, the damage was beginning to stack up. Fires burned uncontrollably across the deck, the superstructure was being torn to shreds, and the bridge...
...most of the bridge was just gone.
The sight was two-fold, and all the more terrible because of it. On one hand, the Captain could very clearly see her vessel burning, but at the same time saw a human with half of their head torn away. From that grizzly wound, the two elements of the ship melded together. Instead of brains and skull; the torn and burning wreckage of the bridge filled the void, along with the bodies of Musashi's bridge crew.
As another volley staggered the battleship, the remaining half of his face was briefly visible. The jaw flapped loosely in the wind, and his remaining range finder was empty, staring blankly as he burned.
No one was at the wheel. There were secondary command and control centers throughout the ship, but the bridge had been destroyed so suddenly and so thoroughly that the response was slow! The remaining crew was waiting for orders, but no one was in command!
Ugliness be damned, the Captain jumped up, desperate to get her ship fighting again. She was grabbed and dragged back by her crew, the deck officer screaming that if she went out there she'd be blown to bits! Bracketing columns of dirt only accentuated her claims.
But before the Captain could order that they release her, a thud suddenly shook the ground.
Musashi had stabilized. Right on the cusp of capsizing, his foot had stomped out, arresting the fall. The battleship no longer wavered; his human body hunched and coiled like a striking snake. As one, his turrets swiveled, the 15.5cm secondaries blazing away while the 46cm guns boomed in defiance. Meanwhile the remaining AA crews - without any aircraft in sight - turned their wrath on the surrounding Destroyers.
The secondaries tore a flanking Destroyer to shreds. A Cruiser didn't even have time to scream as a 1.6 ton shell caught her in the citadel. At this range, nothing could stop it, and the vessel was blown to bits as her magazines were penetrated.
Musashi was back in the fight.
Vaguely, the Captain could hear the stranded crew around her cheering their ship on. But there was something wrong.
The bridge was still burning, all the command and control equipment gone, the crew dead... but the rangefinder... Musashi's one remaining eye glared out at the surrounding foe with a fury that chilled the blood in her little fairy veins. That should have been impossible. There was no one manning the rangefinder, there was no one even left on his bridge!
Yet that single red eye burned as though the ghosts of the past were at the helm.
Pain.
Numb, cold, pain.
The same pain William had endured under the song; something he could feel, but not truly understand. He'd been shot, that much was obvious. Shot many times, as a matter of fact. By all due rights, he should have been dead.
But he wasn't.
Nothing was making sense.
The right side of his face had gone cold. Not numb; cold. He couldn't see or even hear from that side. And his jaw didn't feel right either; his mouth just didn't want to close. With a clinical, detached logic, he realized that half of his head had been blown away. But then how was he still alive?
How was he still standing?
He tried to reach up and feel the injury, but a fresh wave of lead slammed into him. He staggered, feeling rounds bounce off his chest and extremities.
How was that possible? What was happening to him?
His skin almost seemed to rattle, and below that, the impressions worked feverishly. He caught flashes of them; of running through the battleship's corridors, the ship's boilers. There were people, indistinct shapes running to and fro. He was everywhere and yet nowhere all at once. He could feel his battered body, and at the same time feel something deeper; like his organs had been stretched out larger than his body, yet somehow remained compressed inside him.
And the impressions scurried about in a frenzy of activity, dancing on his liver, bustling around his heart, and shaking with each of the impacts that struck him.
Nothing about it made sense. Why wasn't he dead? What was he feeling?
The outside world through his remaining eye was a kaleidoscope of dust, debris, and glowing eyes. Muted pops rang in his ears as more rounds slammed against him. The impressions somehow grew even more frantic. The guns were waiting for orders, frantic shouts rang everywhere! A... damage control party – how did he know that? - was trying to reach the bridge... but was cut off by burning wreckage.
What was going on? He should have been dead, what was this?
And the hollowness, the impressions, the activity bustling inside him... it was like a magnet. His consciousness seemed to slip, drawn towards it where only darkness lay.
It felt... right, somehow. His head felt empty. By that logic he shouldn't be conscious... he should be... asleep. Adrift. It was only right; he should slip into the blissful darkness... he... he had no bridge crew... he shouldn't be awake...
...The fuck was wrong with him? Bridge crew? Awake?! He should have been dead already! Half his head was gone!
The blissful release beckoned... darkness, echoing with hundreds of tiny voices crying for orders...
...he should have been dead...
Another round slammed into his chest and he almost toppled over backward. But that thought echoed in his head.
...should have been dead...
...Not yet...
Not yet!
His foot shot out, steadying him at the last possible second. The pain of his injuries slammed into him in full force once again. The world was coming back into focus, the hollowness fading away as he returned to full consciousness, resisting the pull with every fiber of his being.
...his life, for thousands... he could ask for no greater purpose.
His remaining eye glared a burning hole through the nearest drone, which almost seemed to shrink back in fear.
'Help... help me stand.' It was a prayer and plea all in one. He couldn't feel his lips move, but he heard the words resound in his head all the same. A plea to God, the world, and even the tiny voices who seemed to pause and listen. 'Help me stand... one last time.'
His guns roared.
"Oh deep. Ohdeepohdeepohdeepohdeep."
Ri-5349 ducked behind a wall as her crew rushed to reload her guns. Fighting toe to toe with a freaking Yamato at knife range was not how she imagined her day to be going. Her 8 inch guns were just bouncing off the monster!
And it really was a monster.
Peeking out of cover, she lined up another shoot, only to freeze. The battleship was recovering, its gun swiveling to find targets. And its rangefinder...
She shrank back in to cover behind a low stone wall. However revolting the humans were, right then she was eternally grateful for their primitive constructions. Right then it was better than any smoke screen, a physical barrier from the beast that lurked on the other side.
The battleship was, without a doubt, one of the ugliest Kanmusu the humans had ever summoned. The hull was certainly that of a Yamato, but the rest of it? Flat chested, overly broad shoulders, a waist like an iron support column, straight, unyielding lines, a raggedy beard... it looked like a human male more than anything else.
It was hideous!
The vessel might have been a Kanmusu, but still! How could she bear to sail looking like that!?
And then... there was the eye.
Its rangefinder...
5349 might have been a servant of the Abyss, but being a murderous machine of death still required a basic level of logic and reasoning. They were still ships; seafaring vessels. Even compressed down into a human husk, that didn't change what they were! Deep, even Kanmusu followed the same rules!
The crew was the lifeblood of a ship. Without them, they were as good as sunk.
But this battleship... half of its bridge was gone and the rest was in flames, blown away by Kirishima's volley. But that one remaining eye moved. It hunted for its prey, directing the guns, blatantly ignoring the fact that not a single crewman remained to man it.
Moving on its own.
Then its 18 inch guns fired.
5349's scream was drowned out by the rolling thunder. Nearby, a Destroyer simply ceased to exist; gutted from stem to stern by a monstrous shell. The human town itself was struggling to endure the battleship's wrath. The filmy materials of the racks and dormitories shattered under the force of the guns. Some simply flew away like leaves in a gale.
But not her wall. Her wall was special. She loved her wall, it kept her safe.
Until suddenly it didn't.
A 6 inch shell suddenly turned her safe haven into an explosion of dust and fragments and struck her in the stern. The shock of it hurt more than the actual shot. But that was nothing compared to the raw dread knowing that there was nothing between her and that awful empty eye.
And as the dust settled, the last remnant of her not-so-faithful shield blowing away, that remaining crimson orb locked onto her.
Her boilers went cold. At less than two hundred yards, against the wrath of a Type 94 rifle, 8 inches of armor might as well have been tin foil!
As if to add insult to injury, the monster didn't even give her the dignity of a full broadside. A single shot was fired, and 5349 was neither fast enough, nor armored enough to prevent it from penetrating deep into her Citadel.
Concrete cracked under Kirishima's foot, one elegant step at a time. Her lip curled in distaste as another Cruiser went up in flame. The screams of her fleet filled her ears as they were demolished one by one. Under normal circumstances, the humiliation of losing her fleet to a single battleship would be enough to drive her into exile.
A fate she would never submit to.
Murder. Death. Destruction. An act to inspire such dread and fear to be felt for a century. It was a straightforward requirement for the ritual. All of her studies, all of her assumptions pointed her down this path. And yet... she had been wrong, something she didn't often admit.
Kirishima couldn't help but admire the Demon's clinical delivery of her lessons. Knowledge born of experience few other Abyssals could boast of. And she couldn't deny the chill that crawled down her keel as her Sensei shattered her preconceptions one veiled word at a time.
Before her, another Cruiser died, her scrap falling to the ground with the rest.
The Destroyers she had sent to herd the civilians back towards her had failed to report and now this lone battleship bared her way. Time was no longer on her side.
Blood was the one ingredient she could not substitute.
The Anchored Demon had been very specific about the tolerances of the ritual. Installations created in places without a history of bloodshed were tricky to coax to the surface, but... possible. The larger the tragedy the better. Kirishima couldn't agree more. Civilians in general worked best as sacrifices due to their numbers and relative detachment from war in general.
Their pain and misery would spill over into her new creation.
And that was the first time she had ever heard the Anchored Demon laugh.
'Tell me, girl, who's blood did I use to call you from your eternal harbour? Do you feel their pain and misery, perchance? Have I taught you nothing? The suffering you bring fuels not but your own desire. Blood is the only thing required, but only the right blood. So while I wish you luck on your endeavor, there is still the chance your ritual will fail. Success is not dependant on the depravity of the massacre, but the quantity.'
One drop. That was all she needed; one drop!
The Demon was many things, but not a liar. And her word turned an overwhelming victory into dance with probability.
But she did not understand it, the Demon must have been mistaken in some way! Power was snapping through the air behind her as the summoning circle came to life, that shouldn't have been possible without all the required components!
The supplies, the rain pouring down, turning the ring of carved runes into a makeshift summoning pool... but the blood was missing.
For now!
Whether or not the Demon was wrong didn't matter at the moment. Time was running out; Japan was mustering and she had not a single drop of blood to her name! All because of one, irritating battleship!
Fuming, the Princess stepped out into the open. A ring of devastation stretched out before her, the wrecks of her once proud fleet lay in splinters on the outskirts.
And at the heart of the destruction lay a battered Yamato. If not for the familiar shape of her hull, the vessel would have been unrecognizable. What the smaller caliber guns lacked in penetration, they more than made up for in sheer volume. Her deck and superstructure had been battered to ribbons, and fires burned until there was nothing left to burn. Her armor was pockmarked with holes, dents, and tears. The human shell that represented it was little more than a walking corpse.
And yet the battleship still stood, smoke pouring from a gaping hole in the bridge as it finished off the last of the Princess' escort.
Snarling, Kirishima aligned her guns. The pawns had played their part admirably; this was the Yamato, after all. A vessel designed to conquer the never-ending tide of American steel through sheer might alone. How she had crossed the distance between Truk Island so quickly would forever remain a mystery. For in a battle between titans, what mattered most was not who could throw the heaviest punch.
But who could land the first lucky hit.
One last kill and Rokkasho would rise.
Her victory was inevitable.
With her fire solution carefully chosen and locked, Kirishima stretched out her hand.
"Fire!"
"Desu!!"
The Chief Engineer grabbed the shoulder of a passing fairy before the little idiot could run to her death. A moment later a pipe further down the corridor burst, filling the air with scalding clouds of steam.
That didn't stop the idiot, however. Once the initial burst of steam had abated, she flipped up the collar of her jacket, hunched her shoulders, and charged onward through the billowing cloud.
Brave, but still an idiot.
The Captain aside, there appeared to be no shortage of them on this vessel.
Another volley rattled against the citadel, forcing the beleaguered engineering crew to hang on for dear life as Musashi lurched. Somewhere in the chaos, the Chief heard more pipes burst.
"Desu!" she hollered as the vessel stabilized and the crew pulled themselves back to their feet.
The response came swiftly. They were losing steam, and fast.
Musashi's citadel might have been the thickest in the world, but even battleships had to follow the laws of physics. While nothing could get through, the repeated impacts were shaking Musashi's internals to pieces! The occasional volley at range would have been manageable, but this?! Against an entire fleet, within spitting distance? It was tearing Musashi apart!
As if to accentuate her point, the battleship rocked again.
Biting back a foul oath at Newton's betrayal, the Chief roared over the chaos for anyone who wasn't touching a boiler to drop everything and find those damn leaks! As the crew rushed to obey, the Chief clawed her way through the pressing bodies and pipes to the central exchange. The compartment was packed with gauges and valves, directing the steam wherever it was needed. Fairies inside were already hard at work, frantically tracking down the losses in pressure and isolating them before more damage could be done.
As she rushed in, the Warrant Officer in charge looked over, gravely. "Desu."
They had completely lost pressure in the fuel lines. Whatever fuel was left in the boilers was it. They couldn't get more power.
The Chief hesitated, then asked how long the remaining pressure would last.
The WO checked a gauge, then another, only to shrug helplessly. This earned a furious slap across the cheek and a 'Desu' that equated to 'what do you mean you don't know??'
The returning explanation that the ship had already been behaving weirdly didn't help. Musashi had made it to Japan on zero shaft power after all!
Chief slapped a hand to her face. That was because the damn ship was walking!! Did they ever take that into account?
Just then, another volley struck the citadel. Even as the deck lurched, the Chief knew that something was horribly wrong. She tried to shout a warning, but it was too late. The 16 inch armor-penetrating shell at point-blank range pierced Musashi's thick hide like butter, burying itself deep into the heart of the citadel before detonating.
William saw the shots coming an instant before they struck. After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Turret 2 was the first casualty. The first round struck the armored face at such an angle that it bounced off in a shower of sparks. The second, however, found the fabric of one of the gun mantelets, pushing through the narrow gap between the weapon and armor. He could barely comprehend the chain reaction that followed.
Pain as the shell penetrated, like a splinter shoved under his fingernail. Panic from the impressions inside as a fountain of sparks erupted inside, their twinkling radiance falling on silk-wrapped bags of powder.
The turret exploded in a gout of flame. The armored gun house was sent flying, trailing fire and smoke as it crashed to the ground nearby.
On his other side, rounds caught the armored boom of the rig, shredding the metal asunder and taking a secondary turret with it.
But that was nothing compared to the remaining shells that slammed into his chest at Mach speed. They pierced his skin, tearing through his insides, deeper than he thought possible, and then... burst like a star.
His world went white with agony. Turret number 3 dropped from nerveless fingers and was lost. His ribcage felt like it was bursting from the inside; muscles burned and even his blood hissed as it bled from his veins. He couldn't breathe right; his throat felt inflamed and raw; the air tasted of fire and diesel. When he coughed, black smoke billowed up in front of his eyes.
The injuries, the pain, none of it felt right! None of it felt human. It felt like the bombs... the song, pain he could feel but never understand its source.
William staggered, his guns silent. He felt suddenly weak; the strength bleeding out of him as a new unfamiliar, unwelcome heat blossomed in his chest. Part of him was terrified to look down and see what exactly the Abyss had done to him... the rest of him couldn't bear to see how mauled his body was. That childlike belief that if you couldn't see the injury, then it wasn't real.
And besides, there was something far worse approaching.
A towering monstrosity crawled its way forward. Large as a semi-truck, a torpedo-shaped head, two powerful arms, and four smoking turrets that ran across its length. And yet, the creature seemed to pale in comparison to the slender woman that marched before it.
The world itself seemed to bend around her; a vast, insubstantial shape hugging her figure. A towering superstructure superimposed behind her, and yet... the two seemed to exist together. The illusion made the world spin, forcing him to his knees.
The world seemed to stretch around the woman, growing ever further away, his vision darkening around the edges. His head felt emptier than ever. It was getting harder to focus, much less keep his remaining eye open. There was a... rattling and clanging... shouted orders... the scurrying of little boots on metal... sensations that he felt more than heard.
He was tired... so tired...
He coughed again, and more smoke billowed up. What did that matter? What did any of it matter? Whatever the Abyss had done to him, it didn't matter now. Still, he refused to look down. He knew he was dead; he didn't need to see his entrails spilling across the road to know that.
But... he had tried. Gengyo would have one hell of a head start. Hopefully, those reinforcements of his would know what to do.
He'd tried...
But as the seconds ticked on, the killing blow never came.
Suddenly, the woman was right in front of him. Grabbing his chin, she forced his head up. William groaned, the sound coming out as a strangled gurgle, as she examined his face at every angle. Her expression gradually went slack.
"Fukanō..." she breathed, looking him dead in the eye. "Musashi."
Despite the situation, he groaned again. Seriously? Just how much did he resemble this guy that literal monsters got him mixed up?
'Just get it over with'; was what he wanted to say. All that came up was a raspy wheeze. But the final blow never came. Instead... there was a sound. A distant buzz like a swarm of bees, growing louder and louder.
The bitch heard it too. Her features froze, then morphed into an expression of pure hatred as she gazed up into the sky.
"Iya... Iya! Īe! Watashi kara kore o ubau tsumori wa arimasen!" Her words intermingled with the roar of the slobbering mass connected to her. The strange after-image surrounding her shifted, dozens of incorporeal barrels rising to the heavens as tracers lit up the sky.
William fought to stay conscious. The world was sinking into a confusing haze. Lines of fire darted past dark shapes high above. The crack of gunfire mingled with the buzz that seemed to be all around him. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall at any moment.
He was so tired...
And yet he couldn't look away from the monstrosity in front of him. The fury on the woman's face as she screamed into the sky, bullets filling the air behind her.
But he wasn't dead... not yet...
Groaning, he forced his body to move. Nothing wanted to work; his limbs felt as heavy as lead. His muscles seized and stuttered...
But he wasn't dead yet!
'God,' he prayed, feeling the strange activity in his body freeze momentarily. 'God... help me stand... this one last time…'
Through sheer force of will, he reached out and grasped the woman's shoulder. Her skin was cold and smooth, like polished steel. As that beautiful, yet terrible face glanced down with confusion, William summoned every last ounce of strength left and surged to his feet. His body was coming apart; groaning steel filled his ears. He shoved it all out of his mind, eyes locked with the woman as he drove his fist beneath her chin with all the strength left in his body.
The sound was of mountains slamming together.
The woman's head rocked back, splinters of steel filling the air like confetti. Before she could recover, William grabbed the strap of her dress, dragging her down to the ground as his legs gave out. He hit the ground first, hearing something in his shoulder crack as he landed. Ignoring it, he slammed the woman into the ground beside him. The earth cracked where her skull bounced off it.
Then it became a ground game. Past the pain and overwhelming fatigue, training that had been drilled into him since day one took over in short, comprehensive bursts. Grappling. Stay on top.
Kill.
Forcing his broken body to cooperate, he staggered to his feet, then lunged, howling.
He didn't get far.
Something struck him in the side and the world went white. Everything was spinning, his ears rang with the overpowering rattle of steel until he rolled to a bone-jarring stop. Dazed, he found himself face down in the dirt. A trail of destruction and metal fragments stretched back to one very important factor.
He'd forgotten about the bitch's monster. The beast crouched protectively over its mistress, rumbling ominously as the woman stood. Her shattered features twisted in hate.
"Anata. Ōheina. Imawashī!"
Moving with languid grace, she hopped into the beast's back, seemingly none the worse for wear as she towered over him. The storm itself seemed to thicken under her fury.
William coughed, more smoke drifting up from below. His lungs didn't seem to hold air anymore; a strange whistling sound came from his chest whenever he inhaled. Exhaling was worse; black smoke crawled up his throat, searing his nostrils. Even the battleship on his back was a twisted wreck. Gun barrels were warped and the tumble had torn most of the plating away, leaving it a twisted skeleton of struts and bulkheads. Everything was so broken he was horrified just thinking about it.
And somehow... he was still alive.
It was both a blessing and a curse. Why wasn't he dead? How much more did he have to suffer? The cold, hard rubble beneath him felt as warm and soft as a feather comforter. He wanted to sink into it and never wake up...
But… he had to stand up...
He didn't want to... he just wanted to lay down and die, it was easier than this! But he had to... he had to...
A rush of despair washed over him before he clamped down on his emotions.
He was still alive... he wasn't dead yet.
Staring down the beast, he summoned what little strength he had left. His bones buckled as got to his knees. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he got his feet beneath him and stood. Though he wavered, he did not fall.
Almost over...
Before this, the prospect of death had terrified him, then he had learned to accept it. Now, when he was finally at death's door, it was a sweet relief. He would meet his Lord, but not yet... not just yet...
A sound suddenly pierced the air; a whining screech that steadily grew louder. The woman heard it too, looking back to the east. And then came the sound of a distant explosion. A plume of dust rose into the air behind the woman, whose expression went slack.
For a long moment, she stared, distraught, before her face twisted in rage.
"Jibun ga naniwoshita ka rikai shite imasu ka?" Lightning flashed as she gazed hatefully at William. "Anata ga watashi kara nani o ubatta ka rikai shite imasu ka!?"
"Desu!" The Gunnery Chief grabbed a hold of a nearby strut just as Musashi lurched beneath them.
The forward magazine was in complete chaos. Cartridges of powder bounced all over the place, just waiting for an errant spark to blow them all to smithereens. Worse were the shells that had come loose from their bindings. Compared to those hazards, the fairies tumbling around in this mix were fluffy cushions by comparison. They even squeaked when struck.
As one of her subordinates tumbled by, Gunny pulled them out of harm's way, moments before two titanic shells clapped together where the loader's head would've been.
As they hung on for dear life, Musashi slowly righted himself. The hull groaned, Gunny heard metal sheer deeper in the citadel; there was so much damage they should have been at the bottom of the ocean by now! Despite it all, a savage grin was plastered on the Gunnery Officer's face and she found herself laughing.
This was what Musashi was made for. The unbreakable spirit. Even beyond the point of repair, the battleship stood ready to fight!
However long they had left, Gunny was determined to see it through to the end.
As the deck righted itself and the shells stopped rolling, Gunny threw herself into the mess, hunting for survivors. There weren't many; even being grazed by a hundred-kilogram cartridge was a death sentence. And even the survivors wouldn't last long with their injuries.
Gunny saluted them all. Battered and in pain as they were, the survivors understood. There wasn't even a doctor left to tend to them, and Musashi needed every able-bodied fairy they could muster post haste. They understood. They had all fought with honor.
Solemnly bidding farewell to her faithful subordinates, Gunny grabbed the one loader she'd been able to save and took off through the ship.
Everything was in tatters. Corridors were warped and bulkheads sheared open. Pretty much all of the hatches would never close cleanly again, let alone stay watertight.
"Desu?" the loader called after her as they ran. Where were they going? The forward arsenal was a primed bomb, they couldn't just leave it like that!
The entire ship was a primed bomb, Gunny shot back. They were dead anyway, what mattered was getting a final shot out before it happened! Turret 1 was gone, 2 would never operate again and both the secondaries were in ruins. But number 3? They might get lucky.
Indeed they were. As they rushed into the rear magazine, Gunny instantly took note of the situation. It had fared slightly better than its forward counterpart. Shells and cartridges were everywhere, but there were still a dozen able-bodied survivors running around to police up the mess.
"Desu!" Gunny ordered. Both the shell and powder lifts were out of commission, so badly mauled that they would never function again, but the rest of the mechanisms appeared to be intact. Up above, she could see activity; the loaders running damage assessments.
"Desu? DESU?!" she shouted up. A bloodied, soot-stained face peered down the broken lift.
"Desu?"
How many guns did they have? Gunny shouted up. The face withdrew for a moment, then reappeared with a grim expression.
"Desu."
One.
Gunny grinned. That was all they needed. With the lifts inoperable, they would need another way to get the shells to the breach. So she looked to the stairs instead. Just her luck, a shell was at just the right angle they could get it up with a little effort. Relatively speaking, of course.
"Desu!!" she hollered, getting everyone's attention. Musashi was going down, but not without a fight! Her plan was simple; keep the guns firing until the bitter end! Who was with her?!
The returning cheers warmed her black, blistered heart.
Right! First order of business; getting this overgrown firework up the damn stairs!
No one so much as hesitated to question the ridiculousness of the order. They could all feel determination emanating from their ship. Even past the point of death, he was still ready to fight.
'...help me stand... one last time…'
Until the end.
Tracers rained down the sky, bouncing off the beast's glistening hide. The buzzing returned in force, roaring overhead. But everything was drowned out as the woman screamed into the sky, a sound that shattered glass across the ruins of the town. Then she turned her hateful gaze on William, snarling.
"Anata wa... Anata wa dainashi ni sa remashita. Subete no!!"
Lightning flash. The beast pounded the ground, cracks appearing under its fists as it ignored the tracers entirely.
"Shikashi..." the woman seethed. "Rokkasho-mura wa murida… furusato o torimodosenainara, semete watashitoisshoni naraku no soko made hikizuri otoshite yaru yo!"
Abruptly, she started to laugh hysterically. "Soretomo, watashi ga saisho ni anata o chichūkai ni tsuremodoshite ageru kamo shiremasen. Imawashī yogen o kataru orokamono no ashimoto ni, anata no shitai o nagetsukete kudasai. Ha~a! Karera ga arayuru koto o shita nimokakawarazu, anata wa koko ni imasu!"
William groaned. It was hard to keep his balance, the world was going in and out of focus. But his eyes never left the beast. If he fell, he wouldn't get up again.
"Soshite, anata o mite kudasai. Awarena."
William coughed, smoke scalding his throat. He felt ready to fall apart at any moment. Past the pain and the horror... there was a sense of relief. Here he was, half dead, yet so very close to the finish line. It was hard to focus past that. No matter how much his body demanded that he curl up and die, he knew he had to finish it.
He had not bowed to the Abyss.
He had not given into his despair.
He had not come all this way, just to give up now.
Just... finish it.
Tracers fell like rain, sparking against the beast. Amidst the dirt and chaos, the woman flung out her arm and screamed.
"Ima sugu shizunde kudasai!!!"
William had barely a split second to recognize the beast's turrets locking onto him. His legs seemed to give out instinctively, right as they fired, but it wasn't enough. Though most of the rounds sailed past him, a determined few caught him in the chest and shoulder. Something exploded, a rush of heat filling his chest as a gout of flame and smoke filled his vision.
He didn't bother to look at the wound, eyes fixated on the monstrosity before him.
'...one... last... time…'
Shoving aside the pain and exhaustion he forced his legs to move, staggering forward. But as he gained momentum his stride steadied, barrelling forward as an unhinged roar burst from his throat.
The woman hesitated, face torn between disbelief and hatred before screaming right back. Her stead howled into the sky, stamping its fists against the ground before breaking into a gallop.
The two forces collided with an almighty crash. William barely slipped past the beast's wild swing and drove his fists beneath its chin. The impact shook him to the core, but he kept on striving forward. It was an old lesson, one he had picked up long before he enlisted, back when he was still a lineman on the field. A lesson so ingrained it was conscious thought. Get past their arms, control the center, and you could push them wherever you wanted.
And by damn did it work.
His legs didn't stop pumping as he drove his fists up and under the sobering maw, and the creature ground to a halt. Its arms flailed, bashing against his shoulders, trying to dislodge him. But entrenched this deep into the beast's guard, there wasn't a damn thing it could do. Inch by inch William strove onward, feeling the muscles in his arms and legs tear and snap with metallic twangs. The pain was unbearable.
'...one... last…'
The beast's roars became strained. It stopped trying to dislodge him and instead clawed at the ground, trying to find purpose as it was slowly but surely pushing into the air. Higher and higher!
But right on the cusp of victory, right as the beast threatened to topple over, William felt a sharp blow to the back of his knee. His leg trembled, then gave out with an audible crack. He fell back as if in slow motion. Off the side, the bitch leered at him before nimbly leaping out of the way, allowing the beast to come crashing down on top of him with a triumphant roar.
A sharp crack echoed through the ship and the hull trembled around them. That was all the warning the fairies got.
Gunny shouted to brace an instant before an earthshaking crash rattled the deck, Musashi listing beneath them. The two dozen or so fairies crammed in the stairwell wobbled as the 1.6 ton shell on their shoulders threatened to give way. But they were better than this! Stronger!
Through strength of will and a fair amount of cursing, they regained their feet and continued the climb, one careful step at a time.
"Desu!" Gunny shouted forward, arms shaking as she held the tip of the massive shell aloft.
A path was cleared before they reached the final landing, new fairies stepping in to replace those too badly injured to carry the load. Brave souls that they were, they hobbled back down to the magazine for the powder.
An ear-rending clang echoed through the ship and Musashi shuddered to his keel. Gunny swore she heard rivets pop from deeper in the vessel. Then another. And another. The next snap was something Gunny only heard in her worst nightmares; the sound of the citadel cracking open.
Hurry!! She screamed, the other fairies picking up on the horrific implications as they rushed the shell onward through the cramped corridors. Their final obstacle lay ahead; the circular hatch in the ceiling into the loading bay of turret number 3. Above yet more fairies waited to receive the round. Engineers, gunners, even radio operators; all that remained sensed the urgency of this task.
With the hull shaking around them, it was a miracle they succeeded. Or it was Musashi's weirdness rubbing off on them.
Crying out with effort, Gunny pushed the tip of the round skyward. As it left her stubs she threw herself down on her hands and knees, acting as a step ladder as the next fairies in line repeated the process. With momentum on their side, the round rose vertically, spearing through the hatch under dozens of fairypower pushing from below. It cleared the hatch and toppled to the ground, right where they needed it!
Though she was exhausted, and pretty sure her ankle was broken, Gunny crawled to her feet and spurred her motley crew back into action.
Rest was for the dead! They needed that shell in the breach yesterday! And where was the powder?!
William felt the battleship shatter beneath him, crushed under the weight of the beast. His spine followed a second later as he was slammed against the ground.
For a moment everything was black. He thought he was finally dead. Then light as the beast released him, raising its massive fists high into the sky.
Dazed, he could only watch as the first blow fell, cracking his head against the ground. Again the world momentarily went black, only to return as the second blow fell. His arms came up instinctively to protect his head, not that it did much good. The blow knocked him senseless yet again, and when he recovered, the third was on its way.
"Shinku!" the bitch screamed from somewhere above him.
As the onslaught continued, he tried to mount a defense. His arms felt like lead, flopping like useless noodles as the fists pummelled him again and again. He tried desperately to squirm away but he couldn't feel his legs. Everything was going dead. He felt so weak...
"Shinku!!"
Amidst the impacts tearing their ship apart, dozens of tiny stubs shoved the shell into the breach.
"Desu!" Gunny screamed as the unbreakable turret began to warp around them. Powder! They needed powder!
As if carried on the wings of angels, the silk-wrapped bags rose from the hatch one after the other. One by one they were slotted in. As a testament to their fortitude, none of the fairies so much as bulked when the hydraulic rammer refused to operate. They merely pushed with all the strength in their little bodies; dozens of tiny stubs straining as their home caved in around them.
With a note of finality, the breach closed and locked into place.
Gunny dove for the manual fire circuit. The fire director was well and truly destroyed at this point, if anyone was even still alive up there. No, it was all up to Musashi now. Somehow he had landed a shot without the assistance of the fire director... now she just had to trust the vessel.
One last shot...
The other fairies crammed into the turret watched with beady eyes. There was no point in trying to get out, they all knew it. But they were all proud to be a part of this last act.
Thanking them all with a silent nod, Gunny's stubs closed on the switch, focusing with all her might on a connection in the back of her mind; that between a ship and its crew. Musashi could hear them, the connection had come and gone throughout the fight, begging them to help him stand.
And help him they would.
"DESU!!"
Ready!
Something shifted.
Past the pain and exhaustion, an impression leaped out at him. He could barely even describe it... and yet he understood what it meant.
"Shinku!!!"
The beast rose, raising both fists to finish him off once and for all, exposing the length of its chest in glorious detail.
William didn't stop to question the state of his body, he merely acted. His hand shot down to his waist and, miraculously, turret number 3 was there waiting for him as though it had never left. As the fists came down he wrenched the guns free, jammed the barrels into the beast's heart, and commanded;
Fire.
----
The switch was thrown; a spark ignited in the chamber, catching the silk wrapping. The single spark became an inferno that had only one place to go. The shell began to accelerate, from a dead stop to breaking the speed of sound, it jumped from the barrel with a belch of flame. It was airborne for only a split second before slamming into the beast's chest with the full force of its fury.
Kirishima's armored citadel held for barely an instant before parting like tin foil. The shell pushed through into the beating heart of the beast, finding its way to a cozy nook right between the boilers and magazine before its fuse triggered.
The explosion tore the beast apart, exposing its internals to the world. Mortally wounded, it howled into the sky. The explosion from above flared down onto William's chest, flames licking through the cracks around his core. As the beast collapsed upon him, those searching flames found the crack in his magazine, prompting a secondary explosion.
As broken as he was, the detonation pushed through the gaps in his armor with ease, rupturing upward into the beast in a series of chain reactions.
Both vessels went up in flames.
A towering pillar of smoke rose above the ruins of Rokkasho, blooming above the mountains and visible for hundreds of kilometers. The scene, for those who could still remember, was eerily reminiscent of the first time the mighty vessel had sunk.
EDIT Dec 11, 2023: Fixed grammar and spelling.
Well, that was... dangerously irresponsible of her. A ship's Captain should always be on the bridge, so what was she doing here?
As the fairy pondered these great, all-important questions, the ground shook. Muted pops came from somewhere in the distance, and a giant hand seemed to squeeze her tiny body. This confused her even more. She couldn't quite process why she wasn't on the bridge, nor the series of events that led her to be lying on the ground.
Like a landlubber.
And why was there so much smoke in the air?
Suddenly, she was grabbed by the arms and was dragged away.
"...d-desu." she whimpered.
Whoever they were, they weren't being gentle. Her tiny knees scraped against the ground at a breakneck pace.
Who were they? Why couldn't she see? Oh yeah, her eyes were still closed. Why didn't she think of that?
The Captain eased her eyes open, just in time to see a green, leafy bush rush up to meet her. Then her rescuers were dragging her through a tangle of branches and roots before arriving at the plant's tree-like core. It looked vaguely like the inside of a big green tent, but the Captain had little time to comprehend that as she was lowered gently onto a pad of moss.
There were more pops from somewhere and the entire bush shook. Only then did the Captain see dozens of other fairies clustered around, ducking as leaves rained down around them.
Why weren't they at their posts? She would keelhaul the lot of them! How dare they abandon ship when Musashi-
Musashi!
Everything came rushing back. Landfall, the evacuation, caving in the tunnel, Musashi's last stand, the enemy fleet closing in... the shells flying for the bridge!
Sound abruptly returned to the world. The muted pops deepened into the deafening cracks of navel rifles. They were still under siege! The Captain tried to stand, but was forced to lie back into the bed of moss by her two rescuers.
"Desu, desu!" They apologized fervently, pulling back her eyelids at staring into her beady irises.
"Desu." one said. The Captain... probably didn't have a concussion.
"Desu?" The other glared at her. Probably?
Good enough!
Now thoroughly awake, the Captain slapped away their wandering hands and demanded a report.
Instantly, the two were pushed away by another fairy, whom the Captain recognized as one of the senior deck officers. Her report was concise: While dispatching the carriers, Musashi's ramming maneuvers had thrown the deck officer, and a good number of the anti-air crews overboard. There were about thirty of them. With the vessel engaged, the decision was made to hunker down nearby to not split the battleship's attention. They would wait for the battle to be resolved before being recovered, but...
As more navel rifles rang out, none of them being Musashi's 46cm guns, a pit of dread grew in the Captain's gut. Then she asked what happened next.
The officer hesitated, then delivered the bad news.
"Desu."
It wasn't just a fleet. There was a battleship Princess. Her shells had taken half of the bridge clean off. Somehow the Captain had been thrown free of the blast, but the rest-
"Desu?!" The Captain jumped up, scattering fairies right and left as she raced out of the bush. She was caught by a profusely apologizing deck officer before she could burst out of cover, but she was close enough to the edge to see the horrifying sight.
The town had been reduced to a pockmarked hellscape of shattered buildings and rubble. And in the heart of the devastation was Musashi. The mighty battleship was staggering, his guns silent. More rifles cracked, slamming into his hull. Abyssals surrounded the battleship; cruisers and destroyers had cornered him against the mountainside and were pummelling him again and again.
Though their smaller calibers had no chance of penetrating Musashi's citadel, the damage was beginning to stack up. Fires burned uncontrollably across the deck, the superstructure was being torn to shreds, and the bridge...
...most of the bridge was just gone.
The sight was two-fold, and all the more terrible because of it. On one hand, the Captain could very clearly see her vessel burning, but at the same time saw a human with half of their head torn away. From that grizzly wound, the two elements of the ship melded together. Instead of brains and skull; the torn and burning wreckage of the bridge filled the void, along with the bodies of Musashi's bridge crew.
As another volley staggered the battleship, the remaining half of his face was briefly visible. The jaw flapped loosely in the wind, and his remaining range finder was empty, staring blankly as he burned.
No one was at the wheel. There were secondary command and control centers throughout the ship, but the bridge had been destroyed so suddenly and so thoroughly that the response was slow! The remaining crew was waiting for orders, but no one was in command!
Ugliness be damned, the Captain jumped up, desperate to get her ship fighting again. She was grabbed and dragged back by her crew, the deck officer screaming that if she went out there she'd be blown to bits! Bracketing columns of dirt only accentuated her claims.
But before the Captain could order that they release her, a thud suddenly shook the ground.
Musashi had stabilized. Right on the cusp of capsizing, his foot had stomped out, arresting the fall. The battleship no longer wavered; his human body hunched and coiled like a striking snake. As one, his turrets swiveled, the 15.5cm secondaries blazing away while the 46cm guns boomed in defiance. Meanwhile the remaining AA crews - without any aircraft in sight - turned their wrath on the surrounding Destroyers.
The secondaries tore a flanking Destroyer to shreds. A Cruiser didn't even have time to scream as a 1.6 ton shell caught her in the citadel. At this range, nothing could stop it, and the vessel was blown to bits as her magazines were penetrated.
Musashi was back in the fight.
Vaguely, the Captain could hear the stranded crew around her cheering their ship on. But there was something wrong.
The bridge was still burning, all the command and control equipment gone, the crew dead... but the rangefinder... Musashi's one remaining eye glared out at the surrounding foe with a fury that chilled the blood in her little fairy veins. That should have been impossible. There was no one manning the rangefinder, there was no one even left on his bridge!
Yet that single red eye burned as though the ghosts of the past were at the helm.
----
Pain.
Numb, cold, pain.
The same pain William had endured under the song; something he could feel, but not truly understand. He'd been shot, that much was obvious. Shot many times, as a matter of fact. By all due rights, he should have been dead.
But he wasn't.
Nothing was making sense.
The right side of his face had gone cold. Not numb; cold. He couldn't see or even hear from that side. And his jaw didn't feel right either; his mouth just didn't want to close. With a clinical, detached logic, he realized that half of his head had been blown away. But then how was he still alive?
How was he still standing?
He tried to reach up and feel the injury, but a fresh wave of lead slammed into him. He staggered, feeling rounds bounce off his chest and extremities.
How was that possible? What was happening to him?
His skin almost seemed to rattle, and below that, the impressions worked feverishly. He caught flashes of them; of running through the battleship's corridors, the ship's boilers. There were people, indistinct shapes running to and fro. He was everywhere and yet nowhere all at once. He could feel his battered body, and at the same time feel something deeper; like his organs had been stretched out larger than his body, yet somehow remained compressed inside him.
And the impressions scurried about in a frenzy of activity, dancing on his liver, bustling around his heart, and shaking with each of the impacts that struck him.
Nothing about it made sense. Why wasn't he dead? What was he feeling?
The outside world through his remaining eye was a kaleidoscope of dust, debris, and glowing eyes. Muted pops rang in his ears as more rounds slammed against him. The impressions somehow grew even more frantic. The guns were waiting for orders, frantic shouts rang everywhere! A... damage control party – how did he know that? - was trying to reach the bridge... but was cut off by burning wreckage.
What was going on? He should have been dead, what was this?
And the hollowness, the impressions, the activity bustling inside him... it was like a magnet. His consciousness seemed to slip, drawn towards it where only darkness lay.
It felt... right, somehow. His head felt empty. By that logic he shouldn't be conscious... he should be... asleep. Adrift. It was only right; he should slip into the blissful darkness... he... he had no bridge crew... he shouldn't be awake...
...The fuck was wrong with him? Bridge crew? Awake?! He should have been dead already! Half his head was gone!
The blissful release beckoned... darkness, echoing with hundreds of tiny voices crying for orders...
...he should have been dead...
Another round slammed into his chest and he almost toppled over backward. But that thought echoed in his head.
...should have been dead...
...Not yet...
Not yet!
His foot shot out, steadying him at the last possible second. The pain of his injuries slammed into him in full force once again. The world was coming back into focus, the hollowness fading away as he returned to full consciousness, resisting the pull with every fiber of his being.
...his life, for thousands... he could ask for no greater purpose.
His remaining eye glared a burning hole through the nearest drone, which almost seemed to shrink back in fear.
'Help... help me stand.' It was a prayer and plea all in one. He couldn't feel his lips move, but he heard the words resound in his head all the same. A plea to God, the world, and even the tiny voices who seemed to pause and listen. 'Help me stand... one last time.'
His guns roared.
----
"Oh deep. Ohdeepohdeepohdeepohdeep."
Ri-5349 ducked behind a wall as her crew rushed to reload her guns. Fighting toe to toe with a freaking Yamato at knife range was not how she imagined her day to be going. Her 8 inch guns were just bouncing off the monster!
And it really was a monster.
Peeking out of cover, she lined up another shoot, only to freeze. The battleship was recovering, its gun swiveling to find targets. And its rangefinder...
She shrank back in to cover behind a low stone wall. However revolting the humans were, right then she was eternally grateful for their primitive constructions. Right then it was better than any smoke screen, a physical barrier from the beast that lurked on the other side.
The battleship was, without a doubt, one of the ugliest Kanmusu the humans had ever summoned. The hull was certainly that of a Yamato, but the rest of it? Flat chested, overly broad shoulders, a waist like an iron support column, straight, unyielding lines, a raggedy beard... it looked like a human male more than anything else.
It was hideous!
The vessel might have been a Kanmusu, but still! How could she bear to sail looking like that!?
And then... there was the eye.
Its rangefinder...
5349 might have been a servant of the Abyss, but being a murderous machine of death still required a basic level of logic and reasoning. They were still ships; seafaring vessels. Even compressed down into a human husk, that didn't change what they were! Deep, even Kanmusu followed the same rules!
The crew was the lifeblood of a ship. Without them, they were as good as sunk.
But this battleship... half of its bridge was gone and the rest was in flames, blown away by Kirishima's volley. But that one remaining eye moved. It hunted for its prey, directing the guns, blatantly ignoring the fact that not a single crewman remained to man it.
Moving on its own.
Then its 18 inch guns fired.
5349's scream was drowned out by the rolling thunder. Nearby, a Destroyer simply ceased to exist; gutted from stem to stern by a monstrous shell. The human town itself was struggling to endure the battleship's wrath. The filmy materials of the racks and dormitories shattered under the force of the guns. Some simply flew away like leaves in a gale.
But not her wall. Her wall was special. She loved her wall, it kept her safe.
Until suddenly it didn't.
A 6 inch shell suddenly turned her safe haven into an explosion of dust and fragments and struck her in the stern. The shock of it hurt more than the actual shot. But that was nothing compared to the raw dread knowing that there was nothing between her and that awful empty eye.
And as the dust settled, the last remnant of her not-so-faithful shield blowing away, that remaining crimson orb locked onto her.
Her boilers went cold. At less than two hundred yards, against the wrath of a Type 94 rifle, 8 inches of armor might as well have been tin foil!
As if to add insult to injury, the monster didn't even give her the dignity of a full broadside. A single shot was fired, and 5349 was neither fast enough, nor armored enough to prevent it from penetrating deep into her Citadel.
----
Concrete cracked under Kirishima's foot, one elegant step at a time. Her lip curled in distaste as another Cruiser went up in flame. The screams of her fleet filled her ears as they were demolished one by one. Under normal circumstances, the humiliation of losing her fleet to a single battleship would be enough to drive her into exile.
A fate she would never submit to.
Murder. Death. Destruction. An act to inspire such dread and fear to be felt for a century. It was a straightforward requirement for the ritual. All of her studies, all of her assumptions pointed her down this path. And yet... she had been wrong, something she didn't often admit.
Kirishima couldn't help but admire the Demon's clinical delivery of her lessons. Knowledge born of experience few other Abyssals could boast of. And she couldn't deny the chill that crawled down her keel as her Sensei shattered her preconceptions one veiled word at a time.
Before her, another Cruiser died, her scrap falling to the ground with the rest.
The Destroyers she had sent to herd the civilians back towards her had failed to report and now this lone battleship bared her way. Time was no longer on her side.
Blood was the one ingredient she could not substitute.
The Anchored Demon had been very specific about the tolerances of the ritual. Installations created in places without a history of bloodshed were tricky to coax to the surface, but... possible. The larger the tragedy the better. Kirishima couldn't agree more. Civilians in general worked best as sacrifices due to their numbers and relative detachment from war in general.
Their pain and misery would spill over into her new creation.
And that was the first time she had ever heard the Anchored Demon laugh.
'Tell me, girl, who's blood did I use to call you from your eternal harbour? Do you feel their pain and misery, perchance? Have I taught you nothing? The suffering you bring fuels not but your own desire. Blood is the only thing required, but only the right blood. So while I wish you luck on your endeavor, there is still the chance your ritual will fail. Success is not dependant on the depravity of the massacre, but the quantity.'
One drop. That was all she needed; one drop!
The Demon was many things, but not a liar. And her word turned an overwhelming victory into dance with probability.
But she did not understand it, the Demon must have been mistaken in some way! Power was snapping through the air behind her as the summoning circle came to life, that shouldn't have been possible without all the required components!
The supplies, the rain pouring down, turning the ring of carved runes into a makeshift summoning pool... but the blood was missing.
For now!
Whether or not the Demon was wrong didn't matter at the moment. Time was running out; Japan was mustering and she had not a single drop of blood to her name! All because of one, irritating battleship!
Fuming, the Princess stepped out into the open. A ring of devastation stretched out before her, the wrecks of her once proud fleet lay in splinters on the outskirts.
And at the heart of the destruction lay a battered Yamato. If not for the familiar shape of her hull, the vessel would have been unrecognizable. What the smaller caliber guns lacked in penetration, they more than made up for in sheer volume. Her deck and superstructure had been battered to ribbons, and fires burned until there was nothing left to burn. Her armor was pockmarked with holes, dents, and tears. The human shell that represented it was little more than a walking corpse.
And yet the battleship still stood, smoke pouring from a gaping hole in the bridge as it finished off the last of the Princess' escort.
Snarling, Kirishima aligned her guns. The pawns had played their part admirably; this was the Yamato, after all. A vessel designed to conquer the never-ending tide of American steel through sheer might alone. How she had crossed the distance between Truk Island so quickly would forever remain a mystery. For in a battle between titans, what mattered most was not who could throw the heaviest punch.
But who could land the first lucky hit.
One last kill and Rokkasho would rise.
Her victory was inevitable.
With her fire solution carefully chosen and locked, Kirishima stretched out her hand.
"Fire!"
----
"Desu!!"
The Chief Engineer grabbed the shoulder of a passing fairy before the little idiot could run to her death. A moment later a pipe further down the corridor burst, filling the air with scalding clouds of steam.
That didn't stop the idiot, however. Once the initial burst of steam had abated, she flipped up the collar of her jacket, hunched her shoulders, and charged onward through the billowing cloud.
Brave, but still an idiot.
The Captain aside, there appeared to be no shortage of them on this vessel.
Another volley rattled against the citadel, forcing the beleaguered engineering crew to hang on for dear life as Musashi lurched. Somewhere in the chaos, the Chief heard more pipes burst.
"Desu!" she hollered as the vessel stabilized and the crew pulled themselves back to their feet.
The response came swiftly. They were losing steam, and fast.
Musashi's citadel might have been the thickest in the world, but even battleships had to follow the laws of physics. While nothing could get through, the repeated impacts were shaking Musashi's internals to pieces! The occasional volley at range would have been manageable, but this?! Against an entire fleet, within spitting distance? It was tearing Musashi apart!
As if to accentuate her point, the battleship rocked again.
Biting back a foul oath at Newton's betrayal, the Chief roared over the chaos for anyone who wasn't touching a boiler to drop everything and find those damn leaks! As the crew rushed to obey, the Chief clawed her way through the pressing bodies and pipes to the central exchange. The compartment was packed with gauges and valves, directing the steam wherever it was needed. Fairies inside were already hard at work, frantically tracking down the losses in pressure and isolating them before more damage could be done.
As she rushed in, the Warrant Officer in charge looked over, gravely. "Desu."
They had completely lost pressure in the fuel lines. Whatever fuel was left in the boilers was it. They couldn't get more power.
The Chief hesitated, then asked how long the remaining pressure would last.
The WO checked a gauge, then another, only to shrug helplessly. This earned a furious slap across the cheek and a 'Desu' that equated to 'what do you mean you don't know??'
The returning explanation that the ship had already been behaving weirdly didn't help. Musashi had made it to Japan on zero shaft power after all!
Chief slapped a hand to her face. That was because the damn ship was walking!! Did they ever take that into account?
Just then, another volley struck the citadel. Even as the deck lurched, the Chief knew that something was horribly wrong. She tried to shout a warning, but it was too late. The 16 inch armor-penetrating shell at point-blank range pierced Musashi's thick hide like butter, burying itself deep into the heart of the citadel before detonating.
----
William saw the shots coming an instant before they struck. After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Turret 2 was the first casualty. The first round struck the armored face at such an angle that it bounced off in a shower of sparks. The second, however, found the fabric of one of the gun mantelets, pushing through the narrow gap between the weapon and armor. He could barely comprehend the chain reaction that followed.
Pain as the shell penetrated, like a splinter shoved under his fingernail. Panic from the impressions inside as a fountain of sparks erupted inside, their twinkling radiance falling on silk-wrapped bags of powder.
The turret exploded in a gout of flame. The armored gun house was sent flying, trailing fire and smoke as it crashed to the ground nearby.
On his other side, rounds caught the armored boom of the rig, shredding the metal asunder and taking a secondary turret with it.
But that was nothing compared to the remaining shells that slammed into his chest at Mach speed. They pierced his skin, tearing through his insides, deeper than he thought possible, and then... burst like a star.
His world went white with agony. Turret number 3 dropped from nerveless fingers and was lost. His ribcage felt like it was bursting from the inside; muscles burned and even his blood hissed as it bled from his veins. He couldn't breathe right; his throat felt inflamed and raw; the air tasted of fire and diesel. When he coughed, black smoke billowed up in front of his eyes.
The injuries, the pain, none of it felt right! None of it felt human. It felt like the bombs... the song, pain he could feel but never understand its source.
William staggered, his guns silent. He felt suddenly weak; the strength bleeding out of him as a new unfamiliar, unwelcome heat blossomed in his chest. Part of him was terrified to look down and see what exactly the Abyss had done to him... the rest of him couldn't bear to see how mauled his body was. That childlike belief that if you couldn't see the injury, then it wasn't real.
And besides, there was something far worse approaching.
A towering monstrosity crawled its way forward. Large as a semi-truck, a torpedo-shaped head, two powerful arms, and four smoking turrets that ran across its length. And yet, the creature seemed to pale in comparison to the slender woman that marched before it.
The world itself seemed to bend around her; a vast, insubstantial shape hugging her figure. A towering superstructure superimposed behind her, and yet... the two seemed to exist together. The illusion made the world spin, forcing him to his knees.
The world seemed to stretch around the woman, growing ever further away, his vision darkening around the edges. His head felt emptier than ever. It was getting harder to focus, much less keep his remaining eye open. There was a... rattling and clanging... shouted orders... the scurrying of little boots on metal... sensations that he felt more than heard.
He was tired... so tired...
He coughed again, and more smoke billowed up. What did that matter? What did any of it matter? Whatever the Abyss had done to him, it didn't matter now. Still, he refused to look down. He knew he was dead; he didn't need to see his entrails spilling across the road to know that.
But... he had tried. Gengyo would have one hell of a head start. Hopefully, those reinforcements of his would know what to do.
He'd tried...
But as the seconds ticked on, the killing blow never came.
Suddenly, the woman was right in front of him. Grabbing his chin, she forced his head up. William groaned, the sound coming out as a strangled gurgle, as she examined his face at every angle. Her expression gradually went slack.
"Fukanō..." she breathed, looking him dead in the eye. "Musashi."
Despite the situation, he groaned again. Seriously? Just how much did he resemble this guy that literal monsters got him mixed up?
'Just get it over with'; was what he wanted to say. All that came up was a raspy wheeze. But the final blow never came. Instead... there was a sound. A distant buzz like a swarm of bees, growing louder and louder.
The bitch heard it too. Her features froze, then morphed into an expression of pure hatred as she gazed up into the sky.
"Iya... Iya! Īe! Watashi kara kore o ubau tsumori wa arimasen!" Her words intermingled with the roar of the slobbering mass connected to her. The strange after-image surrounding her shifted, dozens of incorporeal barrels rising to the heavens as tracers lit up the sky.
William fought to stay conscious. The world was sinking into a confusing haze. Lines of fire darted past dark shapes high above. The crack of gunfire mingled with the buzz that seemed to be all around him. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall at any moment.
He was so tired...
And yet he couldn't look away from the monstrosity in front of him. The fury on the woman's face as she screamed into the sky, bullets filling the air behind her.
But he wasn't dead... not yet...
Groaning, he forced his body to move. Nothing wanted to work; his limbs felt as heavy as lead. His muscles seized and stuttered...
But he wasn't dead yet!
'God,' he prayed, feeling the strange activity in his body freeze momentarily. 'God... help me stand... this one last time…'
Through sheer force of will, he reached out and grasped the woman's shoulder. Her skin was cold and smooth, like polished steel. As that beautiful, yet terrible face glanced down with confusion, William summoned every last ounce of strength left and surged to his feet. His body was coming apart; groaning steel filled his ears. He shoved it all out of his mind, eyes locked with the woman as he drove his fist beneath her chin with all the strength left in his body.
The sound was of mountains slamming together.
The woman's head rocked back, splinters of steel filling the air like confetti. Before she could recover, William grabbed the strap of her dress, dragging her down to the ground as his legs gave out. He hit the ground first, hearing something in his shoulder crack as he landed. Ignoring it, he slammed the woman into the ground beside him. The earth cracked where her skull bounced off it.
Then it became a ground game. Past the pain and overwhelming fatigue, training that had been drilled into him since day one took over in short, comprehensive bursts. Grappling. Stay on top.
Kill.
Forcing his broken body to cooperate, he staggered to his feet, then lunged, howling.
He didn't get far.
Something struck him in the side and the world went white. Everything was spinning, his ears rang with the overpowering rattle of steel until he rolled to a bone-jarring stop. Dazed, he found himself face down in the dirt. A trail of destruction and metal fragments stretched back to one very important factor.
He'd forgotten about the bitch's monster. The beast crouched protectively over its mistress, rumbling ominously as the woman stood. Her shattered features twisted in hate.
"Anata. Ōheina. Imawashī!"
Moving with languid grace, she hopped into the beast's back, seemingly none the worse for wear as she towered over him. The storm itself seemed to thicken under her fury.
William coughed, more smoke drifting up from below. His lungs didn't seem to hold air anymore; a strange whistling sound came from his chest whenever he inhaled. Exhaling was worse; black smoke crawled up his throat, searing his nostrils. Even the battleship on his back was a twisted wreck. Gun barrels were warped and the tumble had torn most of the plating away, leaving it a twisted skeleton of struts and bulkheads. Everything was so broken he was horrified just thinking about it.
And somehow... he was still alive.
It was both a blessing and a curse. Why wasn't he dead? How much more did he have to suffer? The cold, hard rubble beneath him felt as warm and soft as a feather comforter. He wanted to sink into it and never wake up...
But… he had to stand up...
He didn't want to... he just wanted to lay down and die, it was easier than this! But he had to... he had to...
A rush of despair washed over him before he clamped down on his emotions.
He was still alive... he wasn't dead yet.
Staring down the beast, he summoned what little strength he had left. His bones buckled as got to his knees. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he got his feet beneath him and stood. Though he wavered, he did not fall.
Almost over...
Before this, the prospect of death had terrified him, then he had learned to accept it. Now, when he was finally at death's door, it was a sweet relief. He would meet his Lord, but not yet... not just yet...
A sound suddenly pierced the air; a whining screech that steadily grew louder. The woman heard it too, looking back to the east. And then came the sound of a distant explosion. A plume of dust rose into the air behind the woman, whose expression went slack.
For a long moment, she stared, distraught, before her face twisted in rage.
"Jibun ga naniwoshita ka rikai shite imasu ka?" Lightning flashed as she gazed hatefully at William. "Anata ga watashi kara nani o ubatta ka rikai shite imasu ka!?"
----
"Desu!" The Gunnery Chief grabbed a hold of a nearby strut just as Musashi lurched beneath them.
The forward magazine was in complete chaos. Cartridges of powder bounced all over the place, just waiting for an errant spark to blow them all to smithereens. Worse were the shells that had come loose from their bindings. Compared to those hazards, the fairies tumbling around in this mix were fluffy cushions by comparison. They even squeaked when struck.
As one of her subordinates tumbled by, Gunny pulled them out of harm's way, moments before two titanic shells clapped together where the loader's head would've been.
As they hung on for dear life, Musashi slowly righted himself. The hull groaned, Gunny heard metal sheer deeper in the citadel; there was so much damage they should have been at the bottom of the ocean by now! Despite it all, a savage grin was plastered on the Gunnery Officer's face and she found herself laughing.
This was what Musashi was made for. The unbreakable spirit. Even beyond the point of repair, the battleship stood ready to fight!
However long they had left, Gunny was determined to see it through to the end.
As the deck righted itself and the shells stopped rolling, Gunny threw herself into the mess, hunting for survivors. There weren't many; even being grazed by a hundred-kilogram cartridge was a death sentence. And even the survivors wouldn't last long with their injuries.
Gunny saluted them all. Battered and in pain as they were, the survivors understood. There wasn't even a doctor left to tend to them, and Musashi needed every able-bodied fairy they could muster post haste. They understood. They had all fought with honor.
Solemnly bidding farewell to her faithful subordinates, Gunny grabbed the one loader she'd been able to save and took off through the ship.
Everything was in tatters. Corridors were warped and bulkheads sheared open. Pretty much all of the hatches would never close cleanly again, let alone stay watertight.
"Desu?" the loader called after her as they ran. Where were they going? The forward arsenal was a primed bomb, they couldn't just leave it like that!
The entire ship was a primed bomb, Gunny shot back. They were dead anyway, what mattered was getting a final shot out before it happened! Turret 1 was gone, 2 would never operate again and both the secondaries were in ruins. But number 3? They might get lucky.
Indeed they were. As they rushed into the rear magazine, Gunny instantly took note of the situation. It had fared slightly better than its forward counterpart. Shells and cartridges were everywhere, but there were still a dozen able-bodied survivors running around to police up the mess.
"Desu!" Gunny ordered. Both the shell and powder lifts were out of commission, so badly mauled that they would never function again, but the rest of the mechanisms appeared to be intact. Up above, she could see activity; the loaders running damage assessments.
"Desu? DESU?!" she shouted up. A bloodied, soot-stained face peered down the broken lift.
"Desu?"
How many guns did they have? Gunny shouted up. The face withdrew for a moment, then reappeared with a grim expression.
"Desu."
One.
Gunny grinned. That was all they needed. With the lifts inoperable, they would need another way to get the shells to the breach. So she looked to the stairs instead. Just her luck, a shell was at just the right angle they could get it up with a little effort. Relatively speaking, of course.
"Desu!!" she hollered, getting everyone's attention. Musashi was going down, but not without a fight! Her plan was simple; keep the guns firing until the bitter end! Who was with her?!
The returning cheers warmed her black, blistered heart.
Right! First order of business; getting this overgrown firework up the damn stairs!
No one so much as hesitated to question the ridiculousness of the order. They could all feel determination emanating from their ship. Even past the point of death, he was still ready to fight.
'...help me stand... one last time…'
Until the end.
----
Tracers rained down the sky, bouncing off the beast's glistening hide. The buzzing returned in force, roaring overhead. But everything was drowned out as the woman screamed into the sky, a sound that shattered glass across the ruins of the town. Then she turned her hateful gaze on William, snarling.
"Anata wa... Anata wa dainashi ni sa remashita. Subete no!!"
Lightning flash. The beast pounded the ground, cracks appearing under its fists as it ignored the tracers entirely.
"Shikashi..." the woman seethed. "Rokkasho-mura wa murida… furusato o torimodosenainara, semete watashitoisshoni naraku no soko made hikizuri otoshite yaru yo!"
Abruptly, she started to laugh hysterically. "Soretomo, watashi ga saisho ni anata o chichūkai ni tsuremodoshite ageru kamo shiremasen. Imawashī yogen o kataru orokamono no ashimoto ni, anata no shitai o nagetsukete kudasai. Ha~a! Karera ga arayuru koto o shita nimokakawarazu, anata wa koko ni imasu!"
William groaned. It was hard to keep his balance, the world was going in and out of focus. But his eyes never left the beast. If he fell, he wouldn't get up again.
"Soshite, anata o mite kudasai. Awarena."
William coughed, smoke scalding his throat. He felt ready to fall apart at any moment. Past the pain and the horror... there was a sense of relief. Here he was, half dead, yet so very close to the finish line. It was hard to focus past that. No matter how much his body demanded that he curl up and die, he knew he had to finish it.
He had not bowed to the Abyss.
He had not given into his despair.
He had not come all this way, just to give up now.
Just... finish it.
Tracers fell like rain, sparking against the beast. Amidst the dirt and chaos, the woman flung out her arm and screamed.
"Ima sugu shizunde kudasai!!!"
William had barely a split second to recognize the beast's turrets locking onto him. His legs seemed to give out instinctively, right as they fired, but it wasn't enough. Though most of the rounds sailed past him, a determined few caught him in the chest and shoulder. Something exploded, a rush of heat filling his chest as a gout of flame and smoke filled his vision.
He didn't bother to look at the wound, eyes fixated on the monstrosity before him.
'...one... last... time…'
Shoving aside the pain and exhaustion he forced his legs to move, staggering forward. But as he gained momentum his stride steadied, barrelling forward as an unhinged roar burst from his throat.
The woman hesitated, face torn between disbelief and hatred before screaming right back. Her stead howled into the sky, stamping its fists against the ground before breaking into a gallop.
The two forces collided with an almighty crash. William barely slipped past the beast's wild swing and drove his fists beneath its chin. The impact shook him to the core, but he kept on striving forward. It was an old lesson, one he had picked up long before he enlisted, back when he was still a lineman on the field. A lesson so ingrained it was conscious thought. Get past their arms, control the center, and you could push them wherever you wanted.
And by damn did it work.
His legs didn't stop pumping as he drove his fists up and under the sobering maw, and the creature ground to a halt. Its arms flailed, bashing against his shoulders, trying to dislodge him. But entrenched this deep into the beast's guard, there wasn't a damn thing it could do. Inch by inch William strove onward, feeling the muscles in his arms and legs tear and snap with metallic twangs. The pain was unbearable.
'...one... last…'
The beast's roars became strained. It stopped trying to dislodge him and instead clawed at the ground, trying to find purpose as it was slowly but surely pushing into the air. Higher and higher!
But right on the cusp of victory, right as the beast threatened to topple over, William felt a sharp blow to the back of his knee. His leg trembled, then gave out with an audible crack. He fell back as if in slow motion. Off the side, the bitch leered at him before nimbly leaping out of the way, allowing the beast to come crashing down on top of him with a triumphant roar.
----
A sharp crack echoed through the ship and the hull trembled around them. That was all the warning the fairies got.
Gunny shouted to brace an instant before an earthshaking crash rattled the deck, Musashi listing beneath them. The two dozen or so fairies crammed in the stairwell wobbled as the 1.6 ton shell on their shoulders threatened to give way. But they were better than this! Stronger!
Through strength of will and a fair amount of cursing, they regained their feet and continued the climb, one careful step at a time.
"Desu!" Gunny shouted forward, arms shaking as she held the tip of the massive shell aloft.
A path was cleared before they reached the final landing, new fairies stepping in to replace those too badly injured to carry the load. Brave souls that they were, they hobbled back down to the magazine for the powder.
An ear-rending clang echoed through the ship and Musashi shuddered to his keel. Gunny swore she heard rivets pop from deeper in the vessel. Then another. And another. The next snap was something Gunny only heard in her worst nightmares; the sound of the citadel cracking open.
Hurry!! She screamed, the other fairies picking up on the horrific implications as they rushed the shell onward through the cramped corridors. Their final obstacle lay ahead; the circular hatch in the ceiling into the loading bay of turret number 3. Above yet more fairies waited to receive the round. Engineers, gunners, even radio operators; all that remained sensed the urgency of this task.
With the hull shaking around them, it was a miracle they succeeded. Or it was Musashi's weirdness rubbing off on them.
Crying out with effort, Gunny pushed the tip of the round skyward. As it left her stubs she threw herself down on her hands and knees, acting as a step ladder as the next fairies in line repeated the process. With momentum on their side, the round rose vertically, spearing through the hatch under dozens of fairypower pushing from below. It cleared the hatch and toppled to the ground, right where they needed it!
Though she was exhausted, and pretty sure her ankle was broken, Gunny crawled to her feet and spurred her motley crew back into action.
Rest was for the dead! They needed that shell in the breach yesterday! And where was the powder?!
----
William felt the battleship shatter beneath him, crushed under the weight of the beast. His spine followed a second later as he was slammed against the ground.
For a moment everything was black. He thought he was finally dead. Then light as the beast released him, raising its massive fists high into the sky.
Dazed, he could only watch as the first blow fell, cracking his head against the ground. Again the world momentarily went black, only to return as the second blow fell. His arms came up instinctively to protect his head, not that it did much good. The blow knocked him senseless yet again, and when he recovered, the third was on its way.
"Shinku!" the bitch screamed from somewhere above him.
As the onslaught continued, he tried to mount a defense. His arms felt like lead, flopping like useless noodles as the fists pummelled him again and again. He tried desperately to squirm away but he couldn't feel his legs. Everything was going dead. He felt so weak...
"Shinku!!"
----
Amidst the impacts tearing their ship apart, dozens of tiny stubs shoved the shell into the breach.
"Desu!" Gunny screamed as the unbreakable turret began to warp around them. Powder! They needed powder!
As if carried on the wings of angels, the silk-wrapped bags rose from the hatch one after the other. One by one they were slotted in. As a testament to their fortitude, none of the fairies so much as bulked when the hydraulic rammer refused to operate. They merely pushed with all the strength in their little bodies; dozens of tiny stubs straining as their home caved in around them.
With a note of finality, the breach closed and locked into place.
Gunny dove for the manual fire circuit. The fire director was well and truly destroyed at this point, if anyone was even still alive up there. No, it was all up to Musashi now. Somehow he had landed a shot without the assistance of the fire director... now she just had to trust the vessel.
One last shot...
The other fairies crammed into the turret watched with beady eyes. There was no point in trying to get out, they all knew it. But they were all proud to be a part of this last act.
Thanking them all with a silent nod, Gunny's stubs closed on the switch, focusing with all her might on a connection in the back of her mind; that between a ship and its crew. Musashi could hear them, the connection had come and gone throughout the fight, begging them to help him stand.
And help him they would.
"DESU!!"
Ready!
----
Something shifted.
Past the pain and exhaustion, an impression leaped out at him. He could barely even describe it... and yet he understood what it meant.
"Shinku!!!"
The beast rose, raising both fists to finish him off once and for all, exposing the length of its chest in glorious detail.
William didn't stop to question the state of his body, he merely acted. His hand shot down to his waist and, miraculously, turret number 3 was there waiting for him as though it had never left. As the fists came down he wrenched the guns free, jammed the barrels into the beast's heart, and commanded;
Fire.
----
The switch was thrown; a spark ignited in the chamber, catching the silk wrapping. The single spark became an inferno that had only one place to go. The shell began to accelerate, from a dead stop to breaking the speed of sound, it jumped from the barrel with a belch of flame. It was airborne for only a split second before slamming into the beast's chest with the full force of its fury.
Kirishima's armored citadel held for barely an instant before parting like tin foil. The shell pushed through into the beating heart of the beast, finding its way to a cozy nook right between the boilers and magazine before its fuse triggered.
The explosion tore the beast apart, exposing its internals to the world. Mortally wounded, it howled into the sky. The explosion from above flared down onto William's chest, flames licking through the cracks around his core. As the beast collapsed upon him, those searching flames found the crack in his magazine, prompting a secondary explosion.
As broken as he was, the detonation pushed through the gaps in his armor with ease, rupturing upward into the beast in a series of chain reactions.
Both vessels went up in flames.
A towering pillar of smoke rose above the ruins of Rokkasho, blooming above the mountains and visible for hundreds of kilometers. The scene, for those who could still remember, was eerily reminiscent of the first time the mighty vessel had sunk.
Happy Canada Day!
In celebration of our great country up north, have another chapter! And this wraps up the battle of Rokkasho, William's introduction to the new world he finds himself in. This one was a blast to write and I hope you all enjoy it!
In celebration of our great country up north, have another chapter! And this wraps up the battle of Rokkasho, William's introduction to the new world he finds himself in. This one was a blast to write and I hope you all enjoy it!
TRANSLATIONS
"Fukanō..." she breathed, looking him dead in the eye. "Musashi."
"Impossible..."
-
"Iya... Iya! Īe! Watashi kara kore o ubau tsumori wa arimasen!" Her words intermingled with the roar of the slobbering mass connected to her. The strange after-image surrounding her shifted, dozens of incorporeal barrels rising to the heavens as tracers lit up the sky.
"No... No! NO! You will not take this from me!"
-
"Anata. Ōheina. Imawashī!"
"You. Insolent. Abomination!"
-
"Jibun ga naniwoshita ka rikai shite imasu ka!?" Lightning flashed as she gazed hatefully at William. "Anata ga watashi kara nani o ubatta ka rikai shite imasu ka!?"
"Do you realize what you've done?!" / "Do you realize what you have taken from me?"
-
"Anata wa... Anata wa dainashi ni sa remashita. Subete no!!"
"You... you have ruined. EVERYTHING!!"
-
"Shikashi..." the woman seethed. "Rokkasho-mura wa murida… furusato o torimodosenainara, semete watashitoisshoni naraku no soko made hikizuri otoshite yaru yo!"
"But..." / "If I can't have Rokkasho... if I can't reclaim my home, at least I will have the satisfaction of dragging you down to the Abyss with me!"
-
Abruptly, she started to laugh hysterically. "Soretomo, watashi ga saisho ni anata o chichūkai ni tsuremodoshite ageru kamo shiremasen. Imawashī yogen o kataru orokamono no ashimoto ni, anata no shitai o nagetsukete kudasai. Ha~a! Karera ga arayuru koto o shita nimokakawarazu, anata wa koko ni imasu!"
"Or maybe I'll drag you back to the Mediterranean first! Throw your corpse at the feet of those idiots with their damned prophecy. Ha! Here you are, despite everything they've done!"
-
"Soshite, anata o mite kudasai. Awarena."
"And look at you. Pathetic."
-
"Ima sugu shizunde kudasai!!!"
"Now Sink!!!"
-
"Shinku!"
"SINK!"
"Fukanō..." she breathed, looking him dead in the eye. "Musashi."
"Impossible..."
-
"Iya... Iya! Īe! Watashi kara kore o ubau tsumori wa arimasen!" Her words intermingled with the roar of the slobbering mass connected to her. The strange after-image surrounding her shifted, dozens of incorporeal barrels rising to the heavens as tracers lit up the sky.
"No... No! NO! You will not take this from me!"
-
"Anata. Ōheina. Imawashī!"
"You. Insolent. Abomination!"
-
"Jibun ga naniwoshita ka rikai shite imasu ka!?" Lightning flashed as she gazed hatefully at William. "Anata ga watashi kara nani o ubatta ka rikai shite imasu ka!?"
"Do you realize what you've done?!" / "Do you realize what you have taken from me?"
-
"Anata wa... Anata wa dainashi ni sa remashita. Subete no!!"
"You... you have ruined. EVERYTHING!!"
-
"Shikashi..." the woman seethed. "Rokkasho-mura wa murida… furusato o torimodosenainara, semete watashitoisshoni naraku no soko made hikizuri otoshite yaru yo!"
"But..." / "If I can't have Rokkasho... if I can't reclaim my home, at least I will have the satisfaction of dragging you down to the Abyss with me!"
-
Abruptly, she started to laugh hysterically. "Soretomo, watashi ga saisho ni anata o chichūkai ni tsuremodoshite ageru kamo shiremasen. Imawashī yogen o kataru orokamono no ashimoto ni, anata no shitai o nagetsukete kudasai. Ha~a! Karera ga arayuru koto o shita nimokakawarazu, anata wa koko ni imasu!"
"Or maybe I'll drag you back to the Mediterranean first! Throw your corpse at the feet of those idiots with their damned prophecy. Ha! Here you are, despite everything they've done!"
-
"Soshite, anata o mite kudasai. Awarena."
"And look at you. Pathetic."
-
"Ima sugu shizunde kudasai!!!"
"Now Sink!!!"
-
"Shinku!"
"SINK!"
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Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
What is a ship on land but a fortress of armor, guns, and spite?
On the sea a ship can move, but on land it will not die. Just wait for repairs and replacements.
Every time I've read these shipgirl fics, they use the unliving spirits wrong. Never fight your enemy where they have the advantage- and abyssals have the advantage on the ocean, with all their bullshit.
So make them fight on the land!
On the sea a ship can move, but on land it will not die. Just wait for repairs and replacements.
Every time I've read these shipgirl fics, they use the unliving spirits wrong. Never fight your enemy where they have the advantage- and abyssals have the advantage on the ocean, with all their bullshit.
So make them fight on the land!
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InfinitusAnimous
The indomitable will of man and Software Developer
- Location
- The Core
Outstanding fight scene really gives the feeling of spite and defiance, good job