Chapter 1
(Submerge successful)
(Depth: 1.3 kilometers)
{Maintain depth}
(Ship status: normal)
(Engine status: drifting mode)
(Nanomaterial reserves: 362%)
(Weapon status: normal)
(All systems normal)
{Stealth sequence: initiated}
{Begin system power down}
(System shutting down)
(Standby)
(System shutdown complete)
(Sonar systems online)
{Continue collecting surface data}
…
(Fog ship detected)
(Closing distance at medium speed)
(2 propellers)
(Displacement: 6010 tons)
(Chances of it being a standard Pacific light cruiser: 93%)
(No mental model detected)
{Begin gradual surface}
Bismarck opened his eyes as he slowly rose back to the surface with little to no detection. 100 meters below the surface, he restarted his systems and powered up his defences. He shot to the surface right next to the cruiser, the water erupting around him like that of a volcano.
As he surfaced, he powered up his 6 inch secondaries on the side of the ship. He smirked as he fired them into the side of the ship. It was unprepared for the attack, and a fair amount of damage was taken. It was easily regenerable, and the cruiser immediately began to raise its Klein Field. It was too late.
2 large vents on Bismarck's starboard side opened up. It was a weapon completely unknown to the Pacific fleet, one that had a very interesting effect on exposed Nanomaterials. Bismarck closed his eyes and concentrated. He focused on the energy released by his weapon, and began the anti-regeneration procedure.
The loose Nanomaterials on the light cruiser's damaged hull began to spread. The Nanomaterials that made up the hull of the ship began returning to their pure, original, silver colored Nanomaterial state. The effect spread like wildfire, beginning to reduce the ship to nothing but pure Nanomaterials. The effect eventually reached the Klein generator, reforming it back into its original state. When the Field dropped, the vents on the side of the ship began to draw in the Nanomaterials.
Bismarck absorbed them into his reserves. Soon there was nothing left of the ship, the entire cruiser had been absorbed. All with the exception of the Union Core. Bismarck held the undamaged Core in his hand, linking with it. He put its weapon systems on shutdown, and set it to be apart of his fleet, with him as the flagship. It was in no position to resist, so it did as commanded. After that, he walked down into a part of his ship to a safe.
He opened it, and approached the locked chest inside. He touched the lock and the chest opened. He then set the core down inside, on top and beside the other Cores in his collection. He took an unnecessary deep breath, then closed the chest. It relocked, and he left the safe.
He arrived back at the bridge, and began sailing forward on the surface. It was night-time, so it would be difficult for the Fog to find him. As he sailed, he took hold of his necklace music box, and it began playing.
He let the song play from the beginning to the end once, then he closed the box, and let it fall back to his chest. This was the last thing he had that was given to him by her. It was something he had never told anyone about. He took another breath, and let it out. He then opened his eyes, and looked to the horizon.
"Where are you Tirpitz?" he asked despite knowing she couldn't hear him. So why did he ask? He didn't know. All he knew was that the Atlantic fleet had abandoned the search for her even when he didn't give up, so he would find her himself instead of asking for help from comrades that abandoned the only thing he cared about.
He gripped his music box one more time before he walked back to a secret room he had created. Inside was a giant complex of wood and pipes, a colossal structure that he had created using the designs of a human instrument and Nanomaterials he had collected. He sat down on the bench, and began to pull knobs and flip switches.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and let his hands hover over the keys. Then he brought them down and began to play a song of pain, anger, and sadness. He loved the sound of the pipe organ. He could remember how he and his sister had heard the sound of European Hymns from off the coast. It had been an incredible experience. His processer had gone nuts when he heard it. The melodies and harmonies; the gentle beat of the music and dozens, maybe hundreds, of voices all singing together as one.
And the organ. The organ couldn't even be described with any human word. Some pipes of the instrument could give out a sound so high or low pitched that the human ear wasn't even physically able to register it. The Fog didn't have this disadvantage, and the sounds that were played outside of the hearable music spectrum deserved their own acknowledgement. Tirpitz had been there too, by his side. She had had the same experiences, and felt the same thing. It was the first thing that forced them to feel any kind of emotion.
Bismarck had become addicted to this kind of emotion, much like a drug. Tirpitz had fallen into a similar category. Much like any other Fog ship, they had thought at first that emotions were unnecessary. But when they felt what they were like, that ideology vanished. Like humans, they now craved these emotions. He knew that it could have caused trouble, but neither of them cared.
He continued playing the song, the organ ringing in its elegant beauty. Now he didn't play joyful songs, he only played those that would express his emotions. Tirpitz had become his source of happiness, so now that she was gone he could not be happy.
Without his sister, he had no purpose.
