A/N: The subtitle for this chapter can be 'things don't go according to plan'~
Enjoy~
Whispers of Saturn
Chapter 23: Fatal Synchrony
It was eerily quiet within the shrine, despite all the activity within.
The thought made Bismarck's expression tighten, the still air putting her nerves on edge. Everyone was getting ready to move out, securely what belongings they had within the shrine to reclaim later should they survive the coming battle, and mentally preparing themselves for the world-changing challenge that laid itself before them.
In contrast to the grimly still air, the inside of Bismarck's skull was near-constantly rumbling with the increasingly angry bellows of Wahr'rot. To the timeless deity it didn't matter that they were preparing for battle, it wanted battle – and it wanted it now. Which was a distinct impossibility, considering they were easily half-an-hour away from Roon or the base. A fact that seemed to infuriate the war deity immensely; its booming intonations growing more ferocious by the minute, as if threatening to shatter her skull for the crime of being tactically wise.
Bismarck breathed out a sharp sigh, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the deity's incensed commands. It would do her no good; it wasn't listening to her reasoning. It had gone from a vague force guiding her to a frothing beast in a matter of days, and that only fuelled her veiled anxiety, worried about what it might do when she stepped foot on the battlefield. She had seen the power Akagi had displayed and had an inkling of what went down – would it do the same to her?
''Are you okay...?''
The Battleship sucked in a breath, exhaling it back out before she deemed herself calm enough to respond. ''As well as I can be, U-556. As well as I can be.''
U-556 gazed up at her with large worried eyes, standing only a foot away and looking ready to grab her hand. Bismarck smiled slightly at that and reached down, giving her companion's hand a gentle squeeze. Out of everyone her concern was first and foremost for U-556; if not for their close bond, then for how defenceless she was in comparison. She was a Submarine; an assassin. Not a front-line fighter.
Roon would tear her apart in a single second.
''...you're getting that worried look on your face again...''
''Apologies.'' Bismarck tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. ''I'm just worried about you.''
U-556 blushed a pretty pink. ''Ah... you don't need to, Lord Bismarck. I'll... um, I'll stay out of the way.''
''Good.'' The Battleship gave the Submarine's – her Submarine's hand a final squeeze, then let go. ''Now, let us depart. The world awaits our reckoning.''
U-556's visage hardened and she bobbed her head with as much confidence as she could muster, earning a fleeting smile from the taller woman. The smile was gone in the next instant and she steeled her expression, stepping out of her private quarters and into the hallway outside; meeting Jean Bart's eyes. The Vichya woman leaned against the wall six paces to the right, tapping her foot impatiently.
''We're leaving.''
''Good. 'Bout fucking time.''
Bismarck merely hummed and sharply turned on her heel, marching down the hall towards the front entrance. She passed by Graf Zeppelin and Prinz Eugen; then Z46 and Graf Spee. All four of them followed her out into the eternally-gold sunlight, the sun seeming so much brighter when it hung nearly right above them. Something about the changing sun didn't bode well in her psyche.
''Everyone...'' Bismarck levelled her gaze at the horizon. ''Onwards to-!''
UAAAH!
The bellowing roar in Bismarck's mind was her one, and only warning – before utter agony suddenly lanced through her like a lightning bolt, and with all the suddenness of one. The Battleship gasped and collapsed to her knees, barely catching herself on her hands as she heard her companions cry out in similar agony; from Eugen's cry to U-556's wail she heard it all, audible even through her own pain.
The agony abruptly shifted; transforming from all-consuming pain into agonisingly-specific veins that travelled across her skin; forming a series of glowing red tendrils that appeared not unlike tattoos.
'C-Cease... this...!' Bismarck grit out in her mind, clawing at the dirt as her arms began to buckle from the sheer pain.
Whether out of mercy or simple coincidence the burning agony lightened; rapidly fading away in a matter of seconds and leaving her whole body aching with painful aftershocks. The Battleship took a second to breathe before forcing herself to her feet, summoning her battle-standard and stabbing it into the earth, using it like a crutch as she mustered back to her feet.
''What... the hell...?'' Prinz Eugen wheezed out from behind her.
Bismarck grunted in agreement, tentatively shifting around to face her comrade-
Kill.
The Battleship jerked back, the sudden violent urge abating when she took eyes off Prinz Eugen – the roiling, frothing rage bubbling in her throat ceasing. It took her a hot second to clear her mind, uncertainty bubbling inside her as she carefully slid her eyes back onto her companions.
U-556 was looking up at her, eyes wide with fear, and darkened with something unnaturally violent. Prinz Eugen was still leaning on her knees, clutching at her head with a pained expression. Graf Spee was looking at the ground with wide eyes, red tendrils crawling across her exposed skin. Z46 and Graf Zeppelin were openly staring at her, something ferocious in their eyes, and Bismarck felt the urge to return their intense gazes; her pride as a warrior being challenged and demanding her to retaliate.
''L-Lord Bismarck...'' U-556's quivering voice helped snap her out of her sudden frenzy, her gaze snapping down to her Submarine. ''What... what is... why...?''
She watched with trepidation as U-556 clenched and unclenched her hands, as if restraining herself. ''What's going on...?''
Bismarck made to reply; only for Wahr'rot to 'helpfully' thunder in.
Mgehye'bthnk
FIGHT
In that instant, Bismarck realised what Wahr'rot had done. Why she felt the inexplicably urge to obliterate Z46, why she was ready to fire her guns at Graf Zeppelin – and worst of all, why she felt the mad urge to choke U-556, to eliminate her as if she was a threat.
Wahr'rot wanted battle. If they wouldn't obey its desire, then it would make them – even if it meant fighting each other.
Bismarck gripped her battle-standard, mind racing even as she spoke. ''Change of plans. Everyone split up and regroup at Saffrona! Avoid each other and any contact with anyone but Roon or her allies until then!''
Prinz Eugen, mercifully, didn't even try to argue – muttering a strained 'got it' before stumbling down the hill. Graf Zeppelin held her gaze for a dangerous second before jerking her head aside, grunting a disoriented affirmative and rushing off the edge of the cliff – seamlessly landing in a crouch at the bottom of the hill. Graf Spee and Z46 left in opposite directions, disappearing into the brush atop the hill. Jean Bart was nowhere to be seen.
''Lord Bismarck...?'' U-556, however, didn't leave.
''You must leave too.'' Bismarck turned her back on the Submarine with some effort; her instincts warring against her compassion, refusing to acknowledge her beloved Submarine as a threat, no matter how much Wahr'rot wanted her to. ''I will see you at Saffrona. If worse comes to worse, head to the base and tell them what is wrong; I have faith they will take care of you.''
''...okay.'' U-556 reluctantly agreed. ''We'll... we'll meet again, right?''
''Of course.'' Bismarck intoned, her gaze set firmly on the horizon; forcing herself to not lash out when U-556 shifted even closer-
-and kissed the back of her clenched hand.
''...be safe.''
Then as quick as a mouse U-556 ran past her, rushing down the hill and out of sight.
Bismarck stood there for what felt like a small eternity, nothing but the muted howl of the wind and the haunting sun her company. Then she raised her hand, gazing intently at the spot where U-556 kissed, the warlike feelings in her heart dimming in lieu of something else. In lieu of the embers that were once more being stirred in her heart.
''...please come back to me unharmed, my dearest U-556...''
Her quiet whisper fluttered through the air – and in the next minute the Battleship was gone, forging a warpath towards Saffrona.
X-x-X
Kaga wasn't sure what to expect when she flew towards the shrine, nothing but the thrum of the plane rotors and whistling of the wind to accompany her.
She rode a fighter plane in a wide circle rather than going straight for the shrine, lest she be followed. While her feelings regarding Akagi were still torn, she wasn't so cruel that she'd risk leading the entire fleet to Akagi. However no planes followed her, not even to keep an eye on her. She would have to thank Enterprise for putting such trust in her; just speaking up for her had done wonders for the trust others gave her.
'The fool probably doesn't even realise the effect she has on others...' Kaga's brow twitched with annoyance at the thought. Why did she always get surrounded by noble idiots?
The Kitsune shook her head, the wind whipping her hair into her face. The shrine neared and she took her plane low, waiting until the right moment and dismissed her plane – letting it dissipate into bright blue wisps mid-flight, and causing her fall. She landed on the grass in a controlled roll, bleeding off her momentum with no injuries beyond ruffled tails.
Kaga waited a long moment, seeing if anyone inside the shrine had noticed her approach; but not one curious investigator came. Content she was still unnoticed the fox-woman swiftly marched up the hill, taking the curved path up towards the front; the trees around her soon thinning until she was looking over the canopies. The endless sea of emerald melded with the sickly gold hue the sky was taking, creating an almost picturesque horizon.
'...a pity there isn't the time to enjoy it.' Kaga reminded herself, forcing her gaze onto the path ahead – striding up towards the front of the shrine.
She paused as she reached the front door, and waited. Not a single sound echoed; not Prinz Eugen's laughs, nor Graf Spee's embarrassed squawks. Just utter, desolate silence.
Kaga frowned, making her way inside. The halls were still, the heavy silence disturbed only by her quiet footfalls, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet. She peeked in several rooms but they were all empty of notable items – until she passed one door. A door that she remembered belonged to Z46. And within that room, located atop a small kotatsu, was a piece of paper with an ink pot still fresh and open next to it.
Though she knew she shouldn't, Kaga couldn't help but approach and gently pick up the piece of paper, hoping it would shed some light on the odd abandonment of the building.
To Whom It May Concern,
I, Z46, future to be named Fiize, may very well be marching onto by own doom. I am of course referencing the scourge that is KMS Roon. A fellow Ironblood in origin but not in spirit.
My fellows and I will be departing to fight her in exactly six minutes. I write this letter as a final notation of my thoughts, in the event I do not return to tell them. And though I may have abandoned my comrades in the Ironblood by following Bismarck to this shrine, to follow under the god Wahr'rot, I have not abandoned my values as an Ironblood. To commit evil to destroy evil is not in itself an evil act, and I do believe this so applies.
Bismarck claims I am our trump card against Roon, namely due to my Gift – which I have so granted the name 'Paradoxical Dimension'. Considering I am about to enter battle and the chances of someone discovering this note before I utilise my Gift in full, I shall gladly inform the reader of this note of its use, in the event it may prove useful in future research into Gifts...
The letter went on to describe Z46's Gift in great, exact detail – each line making Kaga's eyes grow wider and wider as she soaked in the stunning extent of the petite Destroyer's Gift. She hadn't considered little Z46 much of a threat before.
Now she realised that was the height of folly.
Shaking her head Kaga quickly skimmed the rest of the letter, pushing the Destroyer's incredible Gift from her mind. Most of it was just relaying all the events that happened at the shrines, noting down bits and pieces of potentially-helpful information such as other's Gifts or their potential motives, and a plea for the reader to not judge them too harshly for their actions. Kaga could sympathise; she too had abandoned the base to follow her sister out of loyalty, she was in no position to judge Z46 and the others for following Bismarck.
Kaga neared the end of the letter and was about to lay it down, considering it read – when the final paragraph grew her eye, and tugged at her heartstrings.
Lastly, in the event this letter falls into possession of my dearest beloved Ayanami... I wish to say I am sorry. I proclaimed in my last letter to you that we would see the sunset one more time, but now I fear such a feat will be impossible. Should you discover this letter, then my death is all but certain. For that I can only give my sincerest regrets for failing you and disgracing your love with my arrogant notions.
Please forgive me.
Signed,
Your Beloved Fiize.
Kaga stared at the letter for a long second before finally laying it down, exhaling. She left the note just as she left it and swiftly stood, departing the room post-haste as she tried to keep her emotions in check, and to not get distracted by the Destroyer's pitiable words.
The Kitsune made her way deeper into the shrine; specifically heading for the more worn-down section of the shrine. However even that was abandoned, no sign of Akagi anywhere – not in her previously-designated room, nor in the other rooms. However there was evidence of someone living there; empty ration packs, a shattered mug, and most disconcertingly dried blood. Small droplets stained the old wood floor and led further down the hall, enticing Kaga to cautiously follow.
The droplets ended at the old hatch in the floor, the metal handle worn and rusted. Frowning worriedly Kaga knelt down, slowly pulling the hatch up to reveal the dark interior beneath the shrine; stone and dirt intermingled with wooden foundations. She quietly made her way down the short ladder, forced to duck due to the short height of the shaft.
Even in the darkness of the shrine's underbelly a soft, almost-luminescent blue glow swiftly graced her eyes. The source was a familiar one. A large pool of gently-glowing water, alternating between a deep blue or a sparkling sky blue. The Crystal Spring located beneath the shrine. The cramped underbelly barely allowed room for one to walk around the stone edge of the pool, the lack of any windows making the air cool and humid.
And sitting right in front of the pool, eyes downcast, was Akagi.
Or so she thought.
Kaga had followed her sister for a long time; practically since they were born into their Ship-Girl forms. Akagi had always been a prideful woman, someone who held herself to a high standard to set an example for those weaker than her. While she had her arrogant moments that didn't betray her true desire to see peace, to hold victory over the Sirens and have their land become a peaceful one free of death, to have a land where they could all be happy. She was strong-willed, calculating, and believed that might made right.
The woman before her couldn't be further from the Akagi she knew. The pride her visage glowed with was shattered, her expression weak and wilted like a dying flower. Her will was broken and in shambles. Her calculating glint was gone, replaced by hopelessness. Her shoulders were slouched and her tails limp,.not an ounce of strength to be seen. Even though she was fully healed her body was marred with glowing red veins that pulsated erratically, clearly trying to surge her into action, but her utter lack of will prevented it.
She looked like a broken woman.
''Akagi...'' Kaga whispered tentatively.
The reaction was instant. Akagi jerked, eyes shooting back towards hers first with alarm, then shock, then utter delight – a pure, almost-tearful happiness.
''Kaga...!'' Akagi stumbled to her feet, instinctively rubbing the creases out of her kimono. It was dirty and clearly hadn't been changed in over a day. ''You... you came back...''
Kaga licked her lips and swallowed. ''Hai...''
''Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you? I-I lost you after my battle with Enterprise, I wasn't sure where you went – you're alright, aren't you?'' Akagi spoke quickly, almost frantically – the panic in her eyes so uncharacteristic of her sister, that it only reminded Kaga of Mikasa's words, and confirmed the one thing she didn't want to know.
''But is Akagi still the same person you once knew, before this whole mess started?''
No. She wasn't.
''I'm fine. Vestal healed me.'' Kaga intoned rigidly.
Akagi paused mid-step, smile freezing on her face. ''Eh...? Vestal...?''
''...Wahr'rot has no use for me. It discarded me, and Helios offered me a place under its reign.'' Kaga said quietly. ''I took it, rather than be caught between them. As it stands... I am allied with Enterprise and her comrades.''
A beat of silence past, the air tense and heavy. Akagi looked stunned, disbelief written across her face as she tried to deny it, but it was clear what the truth was. Then Akagi cocked her head slightly to the side as if listening to something – undoubtedly Wahr'rot – before her expression twisted, becoming sorrowful.
''I... I see...'' Akagi nodded, exhaling. ''I... I'm glad that you have someone to take care of you, at least...''
''They've treated me well. You don't need to worry about me.'' Kaga replied softly. ''While I have a ways to go to earn everyone's trust... I believe I can make it my home once more. Provided, we survive the coming apocalypse.''
Akagi nodded again, almost reflexively. ''Yes... that's good.''
Silence fell upon them once more; neither sure how to break it. Even though neither brought it up, there almost seemed to be a divide between them – an invisible fissure across the ground between them, holding them back from even touching one another. Searching for something to speak about Kaga looked around; her sapphire eyes soon landing on Akagi's torn clothes.
''What about yourself? Are you... alright?''
The answer was obvious to the both of them; a weak quirk tilting Akagi's lips. She was most certainly not alright.
''I'm doing as well as I can.'' Akagi said softly, her gaze shifting off to the side. ''I've... spent a lot of time thinking.''
''About Shoukaku?''
Akagi let out a soft, remorseful laugh. ''Even now... you can read me so well.''
''Of course. We served together for half a decade.''
''Mm.'' Akagi smiled in agreement; her smile tinged with sorrow. ''Not just her. Enterprise, you, Zuikaku, Mikasa...''
''...I've hurt so many people, haven't I...?''
Kaga remained silent.
''...you know, I can't even remember why I wanted this power.'' Akagi said with sad fondness, lifting a hand. ''I wanted to surpass Enterprise, to show Amagi I was better than her... but why? It's been so many years, I can't even remember... who cares if I was stronger than her? Amagi never cared about strength like that. At best my victory would've gotten a light pet and a 'good job', so why did I ever chase it so intensely?''
Kaga, again, remained silent.
''Now, with all this madness... this bloodshed...'' Akagi dropped her hand, and her weak smile fell with it. ''...what purpose do I have? Even with all this power, with the backing of a god... I still lost. When Enterprise gained her own World Ender, when she melded with Helios... she still surpassed me. We stood on even ground yet she reigned higher than I ever could; unbound by her limits... like a star...''
Kaga's expression softened as Akagi's voice took on a hopeless edge, her shoulders slacking with it.
''Is this really my fate? To always chase power, and always fall behind? What does she have that I don't, what technique does she have that always lets her win?'' Akagi said despondently, not a hint of fire in her eyes. ''Is this my curse... for wanting to win?''
Silence.
''Please say something.'' Akagi looked up at her, despairing. ''Please.''
Kaga breathed in a deep breath, and exhaled. ''I think... it is. You always chased victory, Akagi... but you never stopped to think about why. Your reasons only ever went as far as achieving victory and gaining praise for it, but never asking why you wanted it.''
''...I see.'' Akagi's gaze fell. ''I'm a glory-hound then.''
''That's not what I meant.''
''Then what did you mean?'' Akagi asked in response, her voice quickening. ''That I'm shallow? That I don't care about my comrades, my friends? That I can't admit defeat?!''
There was a desperate edge to Akagi's voice that made Kaga swallow. ''Akagi...''
''It's my instinct, Kaga! I can't explain why I always wanted to win!'' Akagi briefly yelled, but her voice immediately dropped back to a murmur. ''I always wanted to win... for everyone's sakes. Is that so wrong to want?''
Kaga didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell her that her desire was just, that wanting to win to protect others was a good thing – but that wasn't the answer Akagi wanted. She already knew her reasons were solid; she wouldn't have followed them this far if they weren't. No, this was deeper; a hidden insecurity that had been buried deep down for years now, and had only now surfaced in the wake of their madness.
Then, the words struck her. ''You wanted recognition.''
It was Akagi's turn to remain silent.
''You wanted to protect everyone, to be adored. You wanted to beat Enterprise to take her spot as the strongest carrier...''
''You wanted to beat the Sirens to have your name recognised... for more than Midway.''
Akagi flinched. She hit the nail on the head. It all made sense to Kaga in that moment; all the little nuances of Akagi's personality clicking together. Why she was willing to fight tooth and nail to win, and took great pride in being a Sakura carrier. Why she disliked the Eagle Union carriers, especially Enterprise, and always sought to outdo them. Why she mastered her skills in aerial battles, making sure she could never lose again.
She didn't want to sink, and be remembered solely as the ship that sunk during their nation's worst loss in the old war.
Kaga wanted to speak, to comfort her sister and talk more – but she could hear the boom of shellfire in the distance. She had been here for too long; the final battle was beginning. Even if she didn't have her Gift anymore she refused to stay on the sidelines like a helpless maiden. She was a warrior through-and-through, and even if she had to fight with teeth and claws, she would. She would tear Roon limb from limb and die scratching her eyes out if need be.
Even if their appearances differed greatly, there was one trait she shared with Akagi – her willingness to do anything, for the sake of victory.
''I must go.'' Kaga intoned, reluctance evident. ''I... actually came here to tell you something.''
''Ah...?'' Akagi looked startled at the sudden change in conversation; her fox ears twitching as another cannon shot went off in the distance.
''Enterprise and her allies are launching a full-scale assault on Roon. They're throwing everything they have at her. Even the remaining Siren Warlord of this world, Purifier, has come to aid us.'' Kaga explained shortly. ''If Roon wins this battle, the world will end, and everything on it will perish. So I came here... to ask you to join forces with us.''
Akagi was stunned silent. Kaga continued anyway.
''I know you hate Enterprise. I know you... might not like me either, anymore.'' Kaga said quietly. ''But for the benefit of the others – no, for the benefit of the world... I ask that you help us eliminate Roon, before it's too late. Please.''
Another boom went off in the distance, and when Akagi didn't reply Kaga reluctantly turned; heading back up the narrow passage she entered from. ''Even if you do not join me... I too will be on the front-lines. It would greatly ease my mind, to know you will have my back.''
Akagi said nothing, and Kaga departed the secret spring without another word.
Only when the shrine was still again, not a peep to be heard, did Akagi gaze down at her open hand.
''...if my dear sister asks me such a thing...''
She clenched her fist hard, drawing blood. A black flame ignited beneath her fingers.
''Then so be it.''
X-x-X
Washington knew something was up the moment she led her assigned squad through the jagged landscape to the north of the base. It wasn't any distinct feeling; rather just her warrior instinct telling her that something was off.
The Battleship frowned, minding her step as she walked over unsteady chunks of upturned earth; side-stepping a toppled tree. Even with the glowing gold sky overhead long shadows cast themselves across the sparse forest – courtesy of the huge chunks of rock spearing skywards from the earth a mile ahead, caused by the shockwaves from Enterprise's battle with Akagi. Just gazing at the large spires of rock reinforced the reality she had been dealing with the past few days; that Enterprise had finally surpassed her.
It wasn't an unwanted reality. While Washington liked being a leader she understood the value of having someone powerful in a position of leadership. Enterprise would most certainly serve as a better leader than she, and she had the tactical mind to fit the role.
If only she didn't leave a goddamn minefield of jagged rock when she fought, she's be a shining star of a leader.
''Nn...'' Washington grunted at her foot slipped slightly; the dirt beneath her foot crumbling down into the previously-unseen hole beneath it. Small, but big enough that she lost her footing briefly.
''Ah, are you alright?'' Oklahoma asked in concern.
''Yeah.'' Washington waved her fellow Battleship off. ''Watch your step. Ground's still pretty unstable around these parts.''
''Is it necessary we go this way?'' Tennessee inquired seriously; her gaze traversing the landscape around them.
Washington hummed. ''Yeah. This is the fastest way to the hills outside of Saffrona; from there you girls can bombard Roon from a safe distance, and I can coordinate the bombardments with the other groups. Worst comes to worst I can join the fight myself pretty quickly.''
Behind her California and Nevada let out murmured hums of their own, both clearly on-guard. Washington couldn't blame them; the jagged landscape combined with the gold sky overhead made the world around them seem so desolate, like something right out of a post-apocalyptic novel. Add in the uncomfortable sensation of something being off, and tensions were predictably high.
Washington grimaced as she stepped over a fallen log, the bark broken and worn from the blast wave. She hopped down onto the ragged ground, sweeping her gaze ahead – unable to shake off that disturbing sensation of something being not quite right. She wanted to brush it off as just her instincts and the terrain, but she wasn't so arrogant that she'd discard the possibility of there being a real threat. If anything... there was a high chance of being ambushed out here, so far from their allies.
A gust of wind blew through the area, rustling the sparse trees and blowing a light amount of dust and dirt through the air. And thanks to the ever-present sun, she saw light reflect off metal several dozen metres ahead, a flag waving in the breeze.
The dust settled. Blue eyes met pinkish red ones.
''Yo.'' Jean Bart greeted tonelessly.
Washington stared for a long second, hearing the other Battleships with her shout in surprise; their riggings blossoming to life around them. Despite the threat Jean Bart didn't even spare them a glance, her gaze locked solely onto Washington's as the Vichya woman leaned back against the thirty-foot high spike of uprooted stone behind her, the shadow of the rock shading her face. Whether she ignored the others out of confidence or sheer apathy, Washington didn't know.
''What do you want?'' Washington cut to the point, eyes narrowing as she only then took note of the parasitic red lines marring Jean Bart's skin. ''And the hell happened to you?''
''Wahr'rot got impatient.'' Jean Bart replied evenly, pushing off the wall – the mere gesture making the other four Battleships behind Washington stiffen up. ''As for what I want... you already know that, don't you?''
Washington's expression didn't change. ''Not with them here.''
''That's fine. They can go on without you.'' Jean Bart gestured behind her. ''I won't stop them.''
''...Tennessee, take the others and continue to the firing point.''
''We're not leaving you behind.'' The tanned woman replied sternly.
In response, Washington merely huffed – a slight smirk gracing her features as she cracked her knuckles. ''You ain't. I'm just taking the scenic route; I'll meet you there.''
''...I can't convince you otherwise, can I?''
''No, ya can't.''
''Very well.'' Tennessee sighed, not daring to take her eyes off Jean Bart. ''Everyone, with me.''
Washington remained still even as the four less experienced Battleships she was leading departed, curving a wide berth around Jean Bart before continuing their trek through the forest. Only when they were out of sight and most certainly out of earshot did Washington break the tepid silence, disliking the still air that hung between them.
''You really want a fight, right now?''
''Yeah.'' Jean Bart didn't even try to hide it; her expression stoic and uncaring as always. ''If the world is going to end, I'd rather go out on my own terms. And I refuse to die until we've had one last battle.''
''You're an idiot.''
''Tell me something I don't know.''
Washington snorted, tilting her head side-to-side and working out the kinks. ''I'd say some bullcrap about us teaming together against Roon, but I have a feeling you wouldn't listen... brat.''
Jean Bart twitched. She never liked that nickname. Even if they looked the same age physically, Jean Bart was still the younger of the two; and most importantly – she was Washington's former student. A fact she loved to remind her of.
''Shut it.'' Jean Bart groused, gripping her battle-standard tightly.
''Make me.'' Washington grinned cockily, her rigging appearing around her in a flash.
Jean Bart complied. Her knees bent and she kicked off the ground beneath her, crossing the distance in two long steps. Her flag-bearing weapon came down with all the force of a god, smashing down into the earth with such force the ground shattered – chunks of dirt and stone blowing apart around them from the sheer strength behind the blow.
Washington grunted, one arm raised to shield her eyes as she leapt back; landing atop the toppled tree trunk. Jean Bart was there in a second, left fist coming up in a powerful uppercut. It nearly reached her – until Washington batted it aside at the last possible moment, letting the offending fist fly a mere centimetre past her cheek and ruffled her hair; the wind whistling sharply in her ear. Faster than Jean could react Washington retaliated, cocking her fist back and throwing a wicked right hook down.
''Nn!'' Jean Bart caught the offending fist in her hand; expression tightening as a shockwave blew past them – pain pulsating in her palm.
Washington didn't get the chance to throw a second blow before Jean Bart leapt back, scowling as she summoned her own rigging around her. With a sweep of her battle-standard her cannons boomed, a litany of golden shells blanketing the terrain in front of her and causing a thick veil of dust to blow up into the air – hiding her. Washington kept her guard up, not so foolish as to believe her old student could miss from such a short range. And considering both were masters in hand-to-hand combat...
'There!' Washington spotted a glint in the dust, immediately spinning to the left to face it – and narrowly avoided the spiked tip of a battle-standard.
Swiftly Washington reached up and grabbed the pole, pulling the weapon towards her. Jean Bart let herself get pulled in close, twisting away from the fist aimed for her stomach and retaliating with a fist of her own. Washington barely had time to tense her gut muscles before the fist struck – immediately gasping as Jean's fist buried deep, lifting her off her feet from the sheer strength behind it; the blow so unexpectedly powerful it made her loose her grip on her opponent's weapon.
A fact Jean Bart took advantage of, transitioning fluidly into a wild spin – and smacking Washington with her battle-standard mid-air, sending the Eagle woman crashing into the jagged earth and skipping a dozen feet, coughing.
''Fuck...'' Washington coughed again; spitting blood. ''You hit hard...''
''Hmph.'' Jean Bart smirked faintly. ''Of course.''
''That your Gift? I don't remember... you punching me that hard, before.'' The Eagle woman asked, stumbling to her feet.
To her surprise, Jean Bart shook her head; smirk unfading. ''Nah, I don't have a Gift. Instead... I've just got pure power.''
As if to demonstrate her point Jean raised her foot – before bringing it crashing down, shattering the fallen tree into flying splinters and creating a small crater beneath her foot, the very earth giving way in the wake of her sheer power. The Vichya woman smirked grimly, eyes cold as she expected her opponent to show unease-
''Hah!''
-and was utterly surprised when Washington barked out a laugh.
''What are the odds of that?'' Washington grinned fiercely, standing back up to her full height. ''My Gift... is all about defence.''
A mental flex. That was all it took for her Gift to activate; glowing blue hexagons layering over her bare arms from fingertip to shoulder. Washington flashed a toothy grin and lunged in without hesitation; prompting Jean Bart to meet her halfway. Their fists met with explosive force, the ground beneath them imploding from the resulting shockwave. Yet neither fighter was harmed – something that brought an equally-wide grin to Jean Bart's face.
No words were said. With wild ferocity the two Battleships traded blows – each blocked punch obliterating the uneven ground beneath them, every redirected blow creating a gust strong enough to blow away a dust cloud. They were evenly matched, Jean's sheer power warring against Washington's defence; her shield-like hexagons absorbing the full extent of Jean's empowered strength.
''Hn!'' Jean grit her teeth as Washington landed a right hook; punching her hard across the cheek and jerking her head aside, copper biting her tongue.
The Vichya woman ducked under the left hook aimed for her face – lashing out and grabbing the offending leg that swung up for her chin. She grinned tightly and yanked, pulling Washington off her feet; but the older woman countered flawlessly by dropping onto her hands and bringing her other foot around in a downward kick. The unexpected angle took Jean off-guard, leaving her too slow to react; and earning a brutal kick to the shoulder for her momentary lapse.
''Shit...!'' The Battleship grit her teeth, wincing.
Washington cracked a sharkish smile, yanking her leg free and landing in a low crouch. There was a split-second where both were still, minds reeling – before Washington led the offensive. She lunged and leapt over Jean, throwing a fist at the back of her head. The Vichya woman ducked under it and threw a backhand out, only for her wrist to be grabbed mid-swing. Without a moment of hesitation Washington yanked her close, crashing her elbow right into Jean's cheek bone.
The sharp curse that fled Jean's lips brought a sense of grim satisfaction to Washington; the Eagle woman swiftly skipping back and putting some distance between them. Her cannons boomed an instant later, four gold shells crossing the distance and engulfing her former student in a plume of light and smoke, the loud blast echoing across the ruined terrain around them.
''Your weapon gives you away.'' Washington's eyes swung right, following the glint of light.
A scoff – and a battle-standard launched out of the waning smoke. Washington grabbed it mid-flight and spun it around, wielding it with only mild difficulty. And not a second too late, as Jean Bart lunged after her weapon with her right fist cocked back. Washington side-stepped the blow and smacked her opponent across the side with the battle-standard, grinning tightly when Jean retaliated with a cannon blast; the searing heat and scattering shrapnel burning Washington's right arm.
The Battleship grunted, releasing the pole-arm in favour of retreating swiftly. Jean snatched up her falling weapon before it even hit the ground, running after her foe with thunderous footfalls, expression torn between cold satisfaction and battle-hungry glee. Washington immediately crossed her arms into an 'X' shape, blocking the fist that went for her chest, but was unable to block the battle-standard that swung at her legs.
''Nn-!'' Washington fell, landing flat on her back – the breath knocked out of her.
Jean relentlessly pursued, straddling her stomach and bringing her left fist down in a powerful swing. Washington tilted her head to the side but the fist still hit the ground beside her; utterly deafening her right ear as pure air pressure blew apart the ground and made them both stumble, the crumbling ground distracting them both for a full second.
Washington saw her chance and took it. The hexagons on her right arm glowed brighter as she activated her Gift in full, the glow growing to near-blinding levels – before with a furious war-cry she swung up, and struck Jean Bart deep in the stomach.
Bone audibly snapped. ''GAH-?!''
Jean Bart was sent airborne with a choked gasp, flipping over her and crashing into the uneven ground behind her. Washington rolled over and pushed herself up; groaning and swaying as her sense of balance wavered, her hearing still absent in her right ear and stubbornly refusing to return.
''F-Fuck...'' Jean Bart rasped, one hand gripping her stomach while her other fumbled for her battle-standard, using it like a crutch. ''The hell...?''
''Heh... my Gift ain't wholly for defence.'' Washington grinned tightly back. ''[Kineticism]. It absorbs any force that strikes it, then lets me hit back with all the force built up.''
''...shit, no wonder that hurt so much...'' Jean groused, spitting out a wad of blood. ''You could've told me that from the start, I wouldn't have hit you so much.''
''Sorry.'' Washington said without a hint of apology, amusement gleaming in her blue eyes. ''Karma for letting your eagerness get the best of you.''
Jean Bart huffed, flipping her the middle finger as she straightened back up. Washington knew enough first aid to notice the way her former student leaned too much on her right foot; betraying how her ribs had likely broken, if not outright shattered from the impact. A debilitating injury for most.
Jean Bart was not most.
''Nn...'' The Vichya woman grunted, yanking her battle-standard up and spinning it around into an attack position, the waning gold light glinting off the pointed metal tip.
A bending of the knees. Then Jean Bart kicked off the ground towards her, charging her like a spearman of old. The Eagle woman side-stepped the battle-standard and lunged in close, her right fist burying itself deep in Jean's gut – extracting a stifled grunt from the Vichya woman as her feet left the ground. Washington didn't let up, her guns aiming inwards and firing with booming intensity; engulfing the two in a raging plume of light and smoke.
Jean Bart flipped out of the smoke with a ragged cough, landing in an unsteady crouch. Her own cannons fired but Washington leapt over the soaring shells, twisting mid-flight and bringing her foot down in a vicious axe-kick – her heel hitting dirt as Jean side-stepped the thunderous blow. Without missing a beat the Vichya woman jerked her battle-standard right and left, harshly striking Washington in the gut and back with two quick blows, spinning the weapon around to bring it down on the older woman's shoulder.
''T-Tch...!'' Washington's grit her teeth as the bladed tip cut down her face; a thin trickle of red cutting over her brow.
The busty woman leapt back as Jean swung again, whipping her pole-arm around with masterful ferocity. She had barely a second to catch her breath before the Vichya woman was on her, kicking off the upturned soil and swinging her weapon with both hands – a powerful gust blowing from her sheer strength. Washington kept retreated, grimacing as she hopped from upturned chunk of earth to the next, all while keeping an eye on her opponent.
Jean was faster however; swiftly closing the distance until she was in melee range again. Washington banked hard to the right to avoid the bladed tip that went for her side, whirling around and using her turret like a shield. Her heel dug into the dirt as she bled off her momentum and threw a fist, impacting hard on Jean's chin as the other woman failed to slow down in time; a muffled grunt escaping her before she fell onto the ground – with her guns aimed up.
'Shit!'
Washington barely had time to raise an arm before Jean Bart's cannons fired at point-blank range; a cacophonous blast blanketing the area as all four shells struck true. Jean skidded out of the smoke and flipped herself into a crouch, coughing out the after-smoke that had fled into her lungs; the acrid taste making her grimace. One hand came up to her dislocated jaw, wincing as she popped it back into place. It spoke of Washington's strength that she could so easily break the jaw of a Battleship, even without a supernatural Gift.
The lingering smoke cleared as Washington waved an arm, coughing heavily. Blood ran down her left arm profusely, a deep bloody gash glistening across her left shoulder, the cloth around it ripped and blackened by the blast. She leaned heavily on her other foot, panting and stifling gasps as she tried to avoid putting weight on her bleeding leg. One of the shells had directly struck her knee, several chunks of shrapnel still stuck in her flesh; blood glistening as it ran over the burnt metal.
''Hah... haah...'' Washington stood up fully with visible effort; grimacing deeply. ''Not bad...''
Jean Bart huffed lightly, discreetly leaning on her battle-standard. ''Same could be said for you.''
''I'd be pretty ashamed if I lost to your dumb ass so easily.''
''Tch, shut your mou-''
UAAAH!
UAAAH!
Immediately both Battleships froze; their minds briefly shutting down as a foreign, powerful voice suddenly intoned through the air. It spoke with two tones at once, like two separate individuals speaking with the same mouth and thrummed through the air with near-physical weight, not unlike a vibrating shockwave.
For a moment Washington was stunned silent, gazing at Jean Bart in disbelief – but the Vichya woman stared back with equal uncomprehension. Clearly it wasn't Wahr'rot's doing.
Washington's hand flew to her ear. ''This Washington, breaking radio silence. Enterprise, did-?!''
Zzzt...
Static.
Washington cursed under her breath, dropping her hand. Something inside her told her this wasn't good; her very soul realising the unseen danger that was looming. For a moment Washington was helpless to guess what that two-toned voice was.
Then she saw it. The world around her began to darken, shadows stretching across the war-torn ground in front of her. The wind slowed and became nearly non-existent. The air became thicker and more humid, the stench of something horrid stinging her nostrils. But what caught Washington's attention the most – was the sun.
The black sun.
''An eclipse...?'' Washington whispered in disbelief.
It shouldn't be possible. Even with all the craziness going on, the moon wasn't visible in the sky – there was no way it could block out the sun to form an eclipse...
...unless something else was blocking out the sun. Something intangible, ethereal...
''Animaus...''
Washington's gaze snapped ahead, locking eyes with Jean Bart. In that moment she wasn't sure which of them had even said it.
''You still want to fight now?'' Washington asked in a heavy voice, pointing at the sky. ''I think that's a pretty good fuckin' indication we should be focusin' on Roon, don't you think?''
''...I don't have a choice in this, Washington.''
''Hah?''
Jean Bart smiled – a thin smile that failed to hide her bitterness. ''I didn't come out here to fight just 'cause I wanted to finally beat you fair and square. Wahr'rot wants me to fight – it doesn't care who. Whether it's you, Roon, or just a weak Destroyer. And I ain't strong enough to resist it... hell, I'm pretty sure it'll just take control of my body if I try to. All I can do is direct myself in the direction of anyone who can probably survive me.''
''Tch... so you're saying I'll have to beat the shit out of you first? Even as the damn world's ending?''
''Look on the bright side.'' Jean Bart bent her knees. ''We can die seeing who's the strongest after all these years.''
Jean Bart kicked off the ground. Washington scowled and rushed to meet her.
Teacher and student met halfway, their powerful blows shaking the battlefield around them as they battled it out, beating each other with fists and cannons.
X-x-X
''Hah... haah... ow... my legs feel like... they're about to fall off~!''
U-556's breathless whine fluttered through the empty forest, her footfalls slowing as she ran out of breath.
The Submarine collapsed down next to a tree, sucking in lungfuls of air. Pain tickled her nerves as the red veins across her skin pulsated, Wahr'rot wordlessly trying to make her move, but she was too tired. She had been running for a good ten minutes now at full speed, and unlike other classes she wasn't good at running long-distance. She was a sub; she was meant to be nice and slow.
''Mn...'' U-556 tipped her head back, panting as she gazed between the gaps in the canopy – the darkening sky greeting her. ''Lord Bismarck... please... be safe...''
''Oh, I'll make sure she won't.''
U-556 froze at the unfamiliar voice. For a second she didn't even breathe, the forest seeming so hauntingly quiet in that moment. Then the Submarine dared to look back, her jacket rustling – before she found a pair of chilling gold eyes staring down at her from just behind the trunk of the tree.
''A-A-Atago...'' U-556 stammered, wide-eyed and terrified.
Atago smiled sharply down at her, sliding her katana out its sheath with a lethal whisper of steel-on-wood. ''Indeed... I was hoping to find Bismarck herself, but you'll do well for my plan...''
U-556 didn't know what that 'plan' was, but she knew one thing: she was no match for Atago.
With that in mind the diminutive Submarine stumbled to her feet, summoning her rigging with a flash, fully prepared to launch her torpedoes as a diversion. However before her rigging had even finished manifesting Atago was in front of her, smiling widely – and stabbing her scabbard deep into the Submarine's stomach.
''G-Gah!'' U-556 wheezed, feet leaving the ground – before Atago grabbed her by the face and slammed her into the ground, the impact rattling her brain around her skull.
''Hmhm...'' Atago chuckled softly, bringing her foot down and pinning U-556 down by her stomach. ''Is this really it? I expected a little more than nothing...''
U-556 tried to speak but could barely formulate coherent words; her vision still blurry from the jolt to her head. Atago solved that problem swiftly; her smile taking on a darker edge as she dug her heel into the Submarine's exposed stomach, and twisted.
''A-AH!'' U-556 cried out in pain, instinctively grabbing Atago's heeled foot. ''S-Stop! I-It hurts...!''
Atago laughed quietly, and lifted her foot. ''Stop? Why of course...''
A shadow fell over U-556's face.
''Now... go ahead and take a nap.''
Atago's heeled boot cracked against her skull, and then all U-556 knew was darkness.
[END]
A/N: Fun fact; Uaaah is an intonation used to finish a spell. I say this since there's no actual translation (since it's more of an action than a word) so I felt the need to add this note to clear up any confusion.
And what could Atago need U-556 I wonder~? Hopefully not anything... agonising~
See you all next time in Chapter 24: Fading Scherzo~
And as tradition dictates; a modest preview:
Bismarck gripped her battle-standard tighter, feeling Wahr'rot's oppressive presence grow stronger in her mind. ''Wahr'rot wants me to fight. I'm struggling to hold it back. So please, get out of my way Hood.''
A beat of silence.
''I'm afraid I'll have to decline, my dear Biscuit.''
''What?'' Bismarck narrowed her eyes, tensing her jaw.
Hood merely smiled in reply, and raised her sword; the golden hilt glistening in the sparse light. ''If you are so out of control that you pose a threat to my allies, and that I cannot in good confidence let you face Roon alone... I will subdue you myself.''
