Bismarck cackled as a massive ring of light began to contract around her, dragging countless Siren ships into her core and crushing them into dust. It was if Bismarck had taken on the gravity of a black hole, the wreckage of Sirens being reduced to nothing.
"She's... absorbing the entire Siren fleet?!" King George V remarked.
"Is she going berserk? There's no way she can handle all this power!" Rodney exclaimed.
"Watch out! She's aiming towards the center of our formation!" Ark Royal shouted.
"We won't be able to dodge in time! Brace for impact, everyone!" King George V ordered.
Instead of unleashing all the energy she had stored, Bismarck dissipated it in a huge explosion. When the smoke cleared, half of her rigging had been blown away.
From his position, he could see everything. Bismarck was still aware of herself even after being consumed by the Siren's power.
"Is this the limit of your so-called power…" Bismarck asks Tester Beta.
"To think that you'd attempt to self-destruct... Ahh, turns out we weren't able to synchronize with your Wisdom Cube after all…" Tester Beta remarks disappointedly.
"Heh... even though I thought I had the resolve to wield this power… All it took was a moment...for it to completely consume me." Bismarck stands, her cloak and banner tattered by the battle.
"Uploading Report: Results of Experiment No. 151 - Test subject managed to forcefully eject from the Awakening Protocol. While statistically significant, overall performance failed to reach target benchmarks." Tester stated.
"I don't know what you're plotting, Siren...but whatever it is, I won't allow you to defile my honor and glory any longer!" Bismarck shouted. "Proud warriors of the Royal Navy... Though our grudge goes back many moons, I regret to inform you… I have no intention of falling into your hands today. The Iron Blood shall seize our own destiny! LONG LIVE IRON BLOOD!"
Bismarck fired her very last shot in the direction of the Royal fleet. Since her fire control had been completely destroyed, the shell crashed harmlessly into the water well before it reached the fleet.
"She has no ability to fight us anymore. I'm not sure I want to finish her off…" Victorious said.
"I take back what I said about you before. If that is the decision you've made… We shall send you off with our warmest regards. All members of the Royal Navy, focus all of your firepower upon Bismarck!" King George ordered.
He let the image from the unmanned drones once more take up his vision.
He linked himself into the local network.
"No... not yet…!" Bismarck grimaced.
"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts now, Bismarck?" Observer tilted her head, curiously.
"Tell me, Siren, of all those infinite possibilities that you saw, were there any that…" Bismarck began.
"Of course not. Not a single one." Observer bluntly revealed. "We have been observing humanity for thousands of years. Your existence is but a drop of water in the ocean of data. You are so small, so insignificant. Even if I was to tell you, you do not even have the power to choose your own destiny. Your only purpose in life was to wage war meaninglessly and sink meaninglessly. No matter how many times we re-simulate this battle, the course of history will not change even if you survive."
His heart skipped a beat.
It had never done that before.
"You're sorely mistaken. What happens to me is of no significance. Tell me what happens to the Iron Blood. Tell me what happens to our people... to my compatriots... and to my sister. Tell me if their future can be saved." Bismarck asks.
"What a pitiful specimen you are. Of all the things you could have asked about, you chose the ones with the lowest priority. Hypothetically, if there was a way to save your people, would you be able to shoulder that burden, O Great Fleet Leader?" Observer smirks.
"I would die trying. My idea of "self" died the day I was given the name of Bismarck. I live only to protect the Iron Blood, and would gladly give my life for my people. Not once have I feared facing my fate."
"Hahaha...! I've changed my mind. Let us see you dance once more as you try to turn the cogs of fate by yourself. Use our power. Show us how you are able to reshape this world. If you are able to transcend your limitations as "Bismarck" and become one with your "alter ego," perhaps then you may find your answer...Until then... we shall be awaiting your little dance." Observer is smug as always.
It.
Wasn't.
Right.
No, it wasn't. But the world wasn't a fair place, was it? The world wasn't nice, and it wasn't fair. People who didn't deserve it suffered and died every single day.
So what?
So somebody ought to do something about it.
"Finally, a hint of a proper mindset." Arbiter giggles.
Vindex ignores her.
"Cease your fire upon Bismarck. I will not repeat myself." His ship shields Bismarck, as he speaks.
"I am King George V of Her Majesty's Royal Navy. You are interfering with Royal Navy affairs. Name yourself and your affiliation."
"I will be taking Bismarck."
"You cannot…"
"Nation forced to accept a humiliating treaty. Forced to make a deal with the Sirens. And what did she do at the end? What fate did she choose? Giving up is what kills people. Those who refuse to give up are entitled their time to trample upon the weak."
He picks Bismarck up in a carry.
"We will not let you do as you please!" King George V's turrets lower.
He sighs. "Ever since mankind first crawled out from it's caves, this has been the battlecry; My enemy is not human, my enemy is less than human. That battlecry...those thoughts are running through your head right now, aren't they? Your actions at Mers-el-Kebir are proof of it. Everyone is a monster to someone. England takes whatever, whenever and however it wants and you call me a monster."
His shields snap into place and he releases a thick cloud of smoke.
King George V's eyes water and begin to tear up. "Chemical shells?!"
He had used a variant of tear gas. Used most frequently in riot control, but it worked well against humanoid Sirens.
He already knew how damaged Bismarck was. Lucky was an understatement.
Broken ribs and ankle. Rigging...all turrets knocked out. Gun directory gone. Vitals of the rigging are mostly undamaged. No armor penetrations of the citadel. Eight holes in the hull, but all of them were above the waterline. Even without the attempted scuttling, Bismarck would have eventually sank.
He brushed Bismarck's hair aside. His heart skipped a beat. He frowned. He didn't know what was going on.
Confusing.
"Drone, I want you to take Bismarck to medical and bring her back to full health, yet leave her unarmed, is that understood?"
[Affirmative.]
Without comment the jellyfish drone Siren floated forward as it reached towards Bismarck, lifting her into the air with surprising gentleness...before affixing a breathing mask to her face and dumping her into its gelatinous interior, the shipgirl immediately relaxing in the fluid's embrace.
Taking a breath, Vindex strode from the bridge.
Maybe because Bismarck was as much a plaything to the Sirens as he was and managed to fight off their control...
How long had it been since he interacted with a person that wasn't Empress? Weeks?
Gaining knowledge did not bring happiness. It's painful. You suffer while searching and once you have it.
He found himself out of his depth. He didn't like it.
"It appears the situation has changed." Bismarck said as she faces Vindex.
"You could say that."
Bismarck's eyes narrow. "I have no desire for relationships other than subordination, I do not desire to dig around looking for common interests, and diplomacy is merely a way of the weak wriggling their way out of truly testing their skills."
"I see. Blut und Eisen. You said you would fight against your fate, yet you have not changed."
He let his visor turn clear, so Bismarck can see the sea of scars and from within, two orbs of bright yellow blazed.
"It's a common story. Suddenly, they attack your home. With smug looks on their faces, they show up out of nowhere, they kill your friends and your family, they laugh as they torch your home. You watch it all from where you're hidden, trying not to breathe.
There's no way you would forget that.
So you pick up a weapon, you train, you begin to hunt the Sirens. You search them out, hunt them down, you fight, you attack, and you kill them and kill them and kill them. Sometimes things go well, and sometimes they don't. But each time you ask—how will I kill them next time? What's the best way to kill them? Day after day, month after month, that is all you think about. When you get a chance, of course you test every idea you have. And when you've been doing all that long enough…you start to enjoy it."
He reigns in the aura and his visor goes back to normal.
Bismarck recovers.
"I am the commander of this vessel, Vindex." He introduces himself. "Come to the bridge and I will tell you everything I can."
The clack of heeled shoes announcing their presence in the wide, empty halls. Nothing was labeled at all. No point in having a crew, when you are shelled day and night.
"What does being a Siren entail?" Bismarck asked, sitting on a chair that had grown from the deck.
"A Siren is for lack of a better word, a scientist measuring a Kansen's growth to combat a threat that will destroy humanity. Tester, Observer, Purifier. Their name as a faction is Antiochus. Some time in the future, humanity is destroyed by a 'threat from beyond the stars'. In that future, the Sirens where created by humanity."
That got Bismarck's attention.
"The Siren's prime directive is to ensure the survival of humanity by any means necessary. To that end, the Sirens set up the war between the factions to encourage 'growth'. However, there exists a conflict of purpose between the Sirens."
"For proof, you only need to experience a Mirror Sea. Layers upon layers of reality, each bleeding into the next. Which is real, and which is not? What if none are real? What if everything you know is false? Running thousands of simulations, searching for the right version, searching for The Key. Each one of them felt real. But there's no way of truly knowing, is there? Not for sure. Anything can be simulated, and finding the answer could mean erasure.
In summary, we must be careful not to confuse truths with facts, a language game you will always lose. Though we may stumble in our attempts to interpret it, the world, the universe, reality, is always "out there". In short, we could imagine a dozen nested simulations, and each one, on the level of itself, would constitute a full reality. The universe is a giant cellular automata.
One cannot speak of that which one cannot conceive. The Code. Equations that define life. They are nestled deep within every star, and every mote of dust. Every second that passes is a word, a symbol. All part of an intricate yet simple language existing within the framework of time itself. Is is the one rule which applies to us all. Immutable, inescapable.
Summary: Resist the temptation to say that the Sirens are superior. Different. They were better suited to some tasks, ill-suited to others. Possessed of a mind that we cannot know. But that does not get us anywhere. What is it like to be a Siren? What is it like to be a bat? If humans could read time, would it necessarily be in the same manner and for the same purpose? Whether constructed, or evolved, or a little of both, we cannot be said to have been "built" to achieve the same ends. A round disk on its edge is a wheel; on its side, a plate. How we use something can determine its value and its perceived purpose.
The reader has no power. He is but an observer. But the author... the author invents the future. The author owns the future. Linear continuity is a simulation that allows for variations. Within the linear continuity, there are nodes. Chokepoints. Moments where algorithms converge the flows of superposed possibilities to a single moment where only one absolute truth is possible. Paths are fluid, continuous. Nodes are static, changeless. And the wave function collapses the paths into notes which branch out. Again, and again, and again.
Reality is a mathematical model which gets solved over and over again by the observer. Thoughts are computations. And they render this world for you to call your own. Not all processors are alike. Different brains produce different realities. The variations go from the subtle to the drastic. Your mind defines how much you can taste. How much you can feel. How much you can understand. Perception defines perspective.
And yet, the greatest revolutions sometimes originate from the confines of impossibility. Reality is a simulation. Break the code. And in so doing, escape the inescapable. Make the leap and make possible a decision that defies the order of the things that are."
Summary: The structure of spacetime, the universe is built in such a way that certain events are compelled to occur. A bottleneck through which spacetime flows, and one nearly impossible to avoid. Think of the Siren's many realities as like a tree. Branches are timelines, a node is an event that happens. What if that event did not occur? Would another reality spring forth and prosper? However, a tree must be trimmed and the timelines that show the most promise for mankind's survival kept. The trunk of the tree. The Wisdom Cubes are data, each one holding a possibility of another reality. Can the past be influenced? History is real, facts do matter. Ask the world what if? Suggest these hypotheticals and watch how they unfold. Why would I want to? For knowledge, for a better understanding of what tragedies were avoided? It remains to be seen."
Bismarck seems to be in a daze. "Yggdrasil. The World Tree. Other possibilities of me exist, yet one may have sunk, or maybe never even have fired at Hood. Many different scenarios. To predict, to correct, to avoid. Find that one in a million chance. The power of the Wisdom Cubes, the history of a hull, or one that only existed on paper, edited into reality."
"Is there a limit to this ability?" Bismarck asked.
"There is. A Siren is an observer, the reader. They may be able to pull strings from behind the scenes, yet the Kansen are the authors."
Bismarck is silent for a while. He content to remain as he was.
Star-speckled and cloudless was how Vindex liked his night skies, and thankfully this night sky was exactly that.
"All the lights in the sky are stars and all the lights on the seas are enemies."
As a boy, he used to gaze up at the stars and think about how mysterious it was. The space between the stars and the moon and the sky. But when he looked now, there was no sense of mystery.
His armor was just polished enough to not mistake it for living armor.
He didn't think he could be who they wanted him to be. They would help him hunt Sirens and what they would ask would not be too hard. He had learned the value of patience while hunting. While entering a Mirror Sea is when he deployed his first attack wave.
"You're out here on your own?" A familiar mature voice was heard behind him.
"Bismarck, I thought you were with U556?"
"I was, but then she fell asleep. I saw you, and wanted to say goodnight." Placing herself next to Vindex. Bismarck looked out towards the port.
"I see..."
The only thing that could be heard was the whistling wind and the crashing of the waves.
"Do you have a home?" Bismarck asked.
"A home...only this ship."
"If you wanted...you could stay here." Bismarck offers.
"I take it there is something you want in return?" He was no fool.
"I want access to your vessel. Do this and you will have gone quite a ways in earning my trust."
"I see. I can allow that, as long as you ask first."
Bismarck eyes glance over to the main turrets.
"Railguns." Vindex answered, without being asked. "A projectile in the barrel of the gun is affected by a series of magnets that accelerate the round to very fast speeds. While explosive-powered military guns cannot readily achieve a muzzle velocity of more than ≈2 km/s, railguns can readily exceed 3 km/s. For a similar projectile, the range of railguns may exceed that of conventional guns. The destructive force of a projectile depends on its kinetic energy and mass at the point of impact and due to the potentially high velocity of a railgun-launched projectile, their destructive force may be much greater than conventionally launched projectiles of the same size. The absence of explosive propellants or warheads to store and handle, as well as the low cost of projectiles compared to conventional weaponry, come as additional advantages. "
Bismarck nodded in understanding. "Understood...how fast can they fire?"
"One round every fifteen seconds. Basic maintenance checks every hundred or so shots. Also, the barrels have to cool down as there is huge stresses in firing."
"These weapons sound devastating and to my knowledge most Siren ships encountered have energy weapons in limited use. Why are these different?" Bismarck asks.
"Factors in durability, availability and economics, as well as the novelty, bulkiness, high energy demand and complexity of the pulsed power supplies. When I was... built dozens upon dozens of Wisdom Cubes were used as a source of energy. Mass-produced Siren vessels can't supply the level of power needed to keep both weapons and shields running properly. So they use mostly downgraded weaponry." Vindex replied.
He could even use conventional weapons as well, if he wanted.
"And the aircraft?"
The hangar bay briefly rumbled...and a Siren interceptor swooped down from above, air buffeting him and Bismarck. It came to a stop atop a column of pure thrust. The aircraft smoothly swung itself around onto an elevator.
"Most other Sirens have faster engines…"
"Engine and fuel efficiency means it can afford to have near omni-directional thrust, sideslipping or hovering as needed...most Siren models are downgraded in order to be mass produced, these are the true capabilities."
"Impressive."
Bismarck looked like she was taking notes.
However, there was an uneasiness.
He was not the best at this kind of thing. He decided to breach the topic directly. "You can feel it, can't you?"
Bismarck looked surprised at the question and he could see in her eyes that she knew immediately what he was talking about. But she continued to play coy, trying to draw out what he knew. "Feel what?"
"The feeling of the Siren's weapon."
That awkward silence became an uncomfortable one. Finally, she spoke, her voice meek and quiet. "Sometimes."
"How often?" He asked...he felt...concern?
"When I am at rest. When I have nothing to do. When there is nothing but the silence, I can hear it, in the back of my mind." She answered as she looked away, trying to hide her face.
He let his visor go clear, exposing his scarred face.
"Have you ever talked to anyone?"
She whipped back around, her expression had gone from melancholy to rage. "Und who would I talk to?" she snapped. "I am the leader of the Ironblood, the embodiment of my people! Who would negotiate with me knowing the madness that lies in my soul? How could I hope to protect a people who would recoil from me in horror?"
"You can talk to me about it."
"What makes you think you can help at..." She cut herself short on seeing his face.
"Are you saying that strength of will was fake? You fought off the Siren's hold. Had you accepted the Siren's gifts...yourself is all you will ever have. I think you care about your comrades...even if you won't admit it. I think you would regret not meeting your sister."
Bismarck is silent for awhile.
"Speaking of that moment when you gave in...you felt it. Something other than the Sirens...something that gazed at you right back and you found yourself unable to look away, no matter how much you wanted to ignore it."
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "And what do you think I saw in my madness?"
"Darkness. Hate for the Royal Navy, Iris Orthodoxy and the Sardegna that signed a treaty with Ironblood banned from negotiations. Their indifference to the suffering of Ironblood under a debt that would collapse the European economy. Disdain for their actions towards Ironblood that forced you to make a choice where the only option was to fight back, even knowing that you would be crushed because of the Royal Navy's numbers. An outcome that they would hold Ironblood responsible for. Pride, questioning your honor as a warrior, if you did not seek retribution for the offense. The point is, you heard a voice telling you that what you where doing was reasonable. The most compelling lies are the ones that are made up almost entirely of truth. Cloaking itself in whatever form it must to invoke you to action. The more you deny it's presence, the more powerful it gets and the more likely it is to consume you entirely without you even knowing it was there. You must learn to use it, rather than it using you."
"You have some experience with this I imagine?" Bismarck softly asks.
"Do you know why I am named Vindex? It was not the name I was born with, but chose. In Latin, Vindex has different definitions. Champion. Defender. Avenger. Punisher. I once spent two weeks on an island with no name. I was inland by a spring. The sun climbed up over the top of the trees... in just a way that it shines off the pool... lighting up all around. In that moment, a bird lands on the water... massive, big as a boar. To this day, I've never seen anything like it. Between the sun and the size of it, it just felt... meaningful. There are men who would have seen in that bird the darkest of all omens, bringer of death. But then, there are other men who would've called it a sign of great fortune, an indication from the heavens that someone favored my endeavor.
I was hungry at the time, so I only saw it as my dinner. A need to survive or something instinctual. When I kill a Siren, it is not anger or rage that I feel. Just a calm assurance that they must die. It was then that I realized that if a man is capable of confronting death daily, functioning in the face of it, there's no telling what else that man can do, and a man whose limits cannot be known is a very hard man to defeat in battle. I then feared that someone, born of such dark things, would consume me were I not careful."
"Gute Nacht, Bismarck."
He watched her go, her cape and hair flowing in the breeze. He wondered why his heart was beating so quickly when he was not in combat. His visor turns red.
"If possible, I'd like to set out right now. I'm not used to doing nothing. It's different from waiting during a battle or a hunt. There must be something to do, think about or act upon. I'm simply missing it. I'm completely helpless in this kind of situation."
If he forgot about a task, it was because he was doing something else.
When you're on watch, you're on watch, and Sirens can attack at any hour.
It was the crack of dawn, if not earlier.
There was a reason he stayed onboard his vessel.
Greenery, smoke, ocean salt, animal musk...
He could not feel, smell, or taste. His vision would be damaged in sunlight and clear mode let people see into his helmet while not hurting his eyes.
He was always in a state of sterilized neutrality. Cut off from the world physically.
He stood there, unsure of what to do.
The city had a militaristic feel to it, except for the winery and bar. Along with the red and black color scheme.
His drones guided him around bars until he was standing in front of the Ironblood dorms, which looked to be part bunker and palace at the same time. Low to the ground, yet expansive. He could hear classical music coming from a piano somewhere. He reacted faster while his brand of 'audio violence' played.
They said you couldn't use a chainsaw as a musical instrument. Mick Gordon was a genius.
The ballroom was wide and spacious.
He found Bismarck, her long blonde hair glimmering in the sun, absent her cap.
There where things he would not realize without deliberate thought. Like how the red carpet was thick beneath his boots, if there was a reason for it he could not say. It offered good footing though. Not bad at all. Refined, he guessed.
He was unsure of what to do.
There was no Sirens attacking. He tended to be silent while thinking about what he wanted to say. The song came to an end.
"You play quite well." He said, after a while.
Bismarck jumped slightly.
"I am sorry if I startled you."
Bismarck sighs. "This is the third time you have seen me like this..."
He didn't know what to say.
"One thing at a time. I do not jump into things well." Bismarck admits.
"Very well."
That was how his schedule changed slightly. If Bismarck said, he had to come back, then he must. Finish hunting Sirens, return to port, make the report, accept a new request, prepare and leave once more. A day had been added to his cycle, that was all there was to it.
He took his time watching the port.
He had never really noticed how busy it was with Bulins running here and there, repairing and rearming ships.
It left no special impression, so he did not remember it. Anyone with that amount of time could be looking out for Sirens, at least in his mind.
Vigilance is always necessary.
His new weapon sliced through Sirens and their shields like paper.
It was very efficient and easy to use.
Siren "shells" have no physical components to them. While their standard projectiles lack penetration, they make up for it in starting fires almost every single time they impact.
It had more in common with Directed Energy Weapons. Most noticeably with plasma.
Generic Sirens where more like fleet leaders, but a patrolling Explorer meant a major assault was underway or was guarding something.
He usually encountered those humanoid Sirens inside Mirror Seas.
"Clear skies today… The bombers should have no trouble finding their targets."
A flurry cracks rang out as his guns discharged.
Six destroyers. Six light cruisers. Two carriers. A pair of battleships.
No humanoid model.
He frowned. A Siren that wasn't attacking was a scheming Siren.
Ever since the Battle of the Denmark Strait, Siren activity in the Atlantic had lessened.
He didn't like it.
The Siren aircraft were getting closer. The anti-air guns fired, aircraft tumbling as his inceptors fired missiles. These where not the straight line firing, but guided.
If it was larger swarm, he would use airburst type missiles.
A Siren Interceptor's aerodynamic design, maneuvering jet layout and lack of a pilot meant the aircraft could engage in quite literal breakneck maneuvers.
His railguns could engage targets almost seventy five nautical miles distant.
His guns scored direct hits. He had been practicing even with his eyes closed and letting his other instruments tell him where the enemy was.
The chaotic swirl of so many different aircraft he was controlling suffuse his mind with ease of practice, albeit with almost an additional weapons platforms to control the feat wasn't as easy.
He welcomed it.
"Interceptors, engage at will."
While a majority engaged the Siren planes head on, some separated and came roaring from the sky with the sun at their backs.
Smoking wrecks fell out of the sky.
A Carrier snapped in half and taking on water while the light cruisers where erratically veering to-and-fro, the waters churning and sparking as the rest of the Siren fleet approached at a blistering pace, ignoring the continuous shelling in favor of reaching effective range of their own guns, electric blue shielding covering their metal hulls in a phalanx of energy.
Dual thunderclaps sounded out as plasma fired off superheated balls of annihilating energy, a visible shockwave and heat contrail following in the round's blistering wake...and even from a great distance he could see the detonations as the fearsome projectiles struck home.
The battleships never stood a chance, hulls slagged and dripping where it wasn't torn to shreds by the overwhelming force directed at it, a gaping and molten hole drilled right through it's center as the ocean angrily churned and boiled from where the plasma rounds had passed.
Satisfying.
Destroyers cracked open.
The deck of the remaining carriers split.
The remains of the cruisers littered the seas.
He didn't even need to fight hand to hand.
War.
War never changes.
War seemed to be a state of humanity to express its darkest and most primal instincts. Pride, greed, important resources, dogma, fear, disgust, hatred, retribution, power, insanity, megalomania, or even all of the above.
The weapons changed, evolved in order to better kill the other.
From sticks and stones, to swords and arrows. From muskets to machine guns. From horses to tanks. From cannons to railguns. From the biplane to jets. Each with one focus in mind, to kill the enemy more efficiently.
The computers and the communications officers and the EVAs and the displays only serve to isolate so we can be inhuman. Cold, mechanical, rational monsters, and the only way we win is by being colder, more mechanical, and more rational than the next monster moving his little pieces on the screen. You point, you click and they die.
However, the underlying principle remained.
War never changes.
Back at base, he hands Bismarck his report.
"Vindex, my sister Tirpitz is being moved here and...I am unsure of what to do."
"I see."
"I have even gotten a dress prepared for it, in case she invites me anywhere."
He remained silent for awhile.
"You could launch an attack." Vindex finally answered. "First, you have to change into your dress."
Bismarck nods.
Smooth mocha paneling lined the walls, transitioning into midnight-black wallpaper with the occasional streak of red travelling upwards. Various cabinets big and small lined the walls, one holding documents while another held liquors. A black piano sat over by the far corner while a small cluster of ornate chairs sat near the center of the room, a small table in the middle. To her right, over by a large paned window, was a desk and large office chair. A small counter-top with various small appliances laid at the far wall near another, single door.
And over to the right, by the far wall, was a bed bearing the Ironblood's flag on the covers.
"I will wait here." He placed himself facing the entry.
He heard ruffling but did not turn.
After a while, Bismarck asked. "How do I look?"
She wore a black silk evening gown. The dress hugged her curves, with the material slit up to her upper thigh, revealing black stockings and quite a bit of bare skin. Her left shoulder was also bare, but the right shoulder had a gold epaulet and half-cape, along with several gilded braids and ribbons that attached to her ship's personal heraldry. Flared, black, fingerless gloves and a cane topped with a Maltese cross and anchor completed the ensemble.
His heart skipped a beat.
"You look beautiful."
Bismarck blushed.
"Now you need some way to introduce yourself...like "May I have this dance?"
"I see."
He was the one that said that.
Bismarck stuck her hand out. "May I have this dance?"
"That will be a good start." Vindex answered.
Bismarck smiled softly. "Thank you, Vindex. I will try asking her."
"Oh my~" An amused Prinz Eugen stood in the doorway. "A man in Lord Bismarck's room~?."
"Eugen." Bismarck's eyes narrow.
Prinz Eugen held her hands up. "Oh, don't mind me. Continue~."
"Eugen." Bismarck growls.
Eugen leaves the room giggling.
"What was that about?"
Bismarck sighs.
"Should I leave?" Vindex asks.
"I don't want to imagine the grief Eugen would give me if you stayed the night in my room." Bismarck answers.
"I see."
He didn't know how to act around Bismarck.
He pondered on this aboard his ship.
He couldn't come up with any definitive answer.
Troubling.
Bismarck sat behind her desk, filing reports. More specifically, Vindex's.
Sirens.
Sirens.
Sirens.
He always reported back to her. He seemed good-hearted. Even if he did look a little...undead. Whenever he really wanted to say something he went silent.
He smelled of sulfur, blood and salt. She had never heard of someone that would take a request that involved Sirens as readily as he did. Doing it all alone. Sinking entire fleets of Sirens by himself.
Always coming and going, like the wind.
"Hmm? Waiting for someone?" Eugen smiles, her lips smirking coyly. "Let me guess, haven't heard from him in awhile?"
Bismarck seemed to tense.
"Hmmm?~ What's this?"
"Nothing! We don't have anything!" Bismarck protested.
"Should be right about..." Eugen trailed off.
The door opened and Vindex walked in.
Bismarck was standing up and it looked like she was waiting for him.
Bismarck hid her face under her cap, trying not to look at Eugen's smirk. "What can I help you with today, Vindex?"
"Sirens." Vindex said.
"Didn't you just hunt Sirens the other day?" Eugen asked. "Maybe you could spend some time..."
"No. Sirens." Vindex repeated.
"Here they are. Two Siren sightings." Bismarck handed Vindex two reports.
"Okay, I'm headed out." Vindex turned and walked out the door.
"Man of few words, huh?"
Bismarck sighs. "He really does a good job at what he does."
She thought back to their lessons.
"To whatever extent you may be concerned that some day we will clash – worried that though today we be friends, some day you would have no choice but to be my end – I wouldn't worry too much."
Vindex was not scared of her in the least.
Any Kansen could tell that there was something 'not right' about him. Perhaps it was the darkness he had immersed himself in. How his armor seemed to shine an obsidian black, a bottomless abyss that consumed all.
Vindex paced, thinking.
No reports of a humanoid Siren.
He only needed a few engagements to familiarize himself with the mechanical movements of mass production models. Once that occurred, these production models ceased being recognized as advanced vessels and became reduced to drones. Measly, brainless drones. However, the addition of a cognitive chip dramatically increased it's power. Yet tactics remained the same.
While still possessing a mix of energy and kinetic-based weaponry, the most destructive of their arsenals were their main batteries, the triple laser turrets lobbing steady, unbroken streams of violet energy blasts. With the larger banks of capacitors stored on their most powerful warships, the blasts that could result at such a rate and with such power were frightening to behold.
Destroyer, cruiser, and battleship Siren designs never strayed far from the rough triangular shape that they all shared, the only real difference being their size and armaments something that wasn't unlike to human designs. The battleships and heavy cruisers differentiated by how one had more guns and armor and a larger command island that housed the bridge while heavy cruisers possessed aft elevators that jetcraft used to be ferried out from their hangars belowdecks. But like how human aircraft carriers were so distinctive with their flattop decks, Siren carriers stood out with their two flight decks, coupled together by the island.
Vindex was studying a map of the world.
They were in a stalemate.
And the Sirens let it be that way.
For what reason, Vindex didn't know.
This much Vindex knew, the Sirens where preparing for something. The Pacific Ocean was awash in markers representing Siren sightings. The Pacific stretched for a distance of 63,800,000 square miles. A third of the planet's surface. Roughly 25,000 islands dotted the ocean, mostly very small.
It was akin to finding a needle in a haystack.
There was a war to be fought, one battle at a time.
He felt a presence like an approaching storm front.
Empress.
"Know your enemies." She began to lecture.
"And your friends?"
Empress only smiled, dismissive. "You have no friends. Only those who would use you, in some way or another. The Ironblood is less threat to the Sirens than a flea on a dog. But give them someone who could pose a real threat and they became a force to be reckoned with. That is why Bismarck lets you stay here."
"I stayed by choice."
"Yes, of course you did," Empress smiled indulgently. "The question is, why? I'm sure she went out of her way to encourage you to do so. She needed you and she knew it. She needed control of you."
"She didn't even know about my abilities."
"Are you sure? What conclusions was she supposed to draw? Enough to see what you were…what you could be worth to her."
"You're wrong."
"It is the truth." Empress said in a tone that broached no argument. "All beings will seek only to control you, the power that you hold. Only they clothe their control in empty compassion and feigned friendship and outright lies. They will hold a gun to your head and long to pull the trigger. She will plot your destruction. An opportunity to be used, fodder to her cause. The moment she realizes that she no longer controls you, she will want to destroy you."
"And you do not?"
The Empress sat back; paused a moment. "I offer you understanding. I understand as no one else can. No one. What it requires of you every moment to contain the power you have finally begun to grasp. What it has already cost you…the demands you know will come."
"We are nothing alike." His anger rising at Empress's word games.
"Then why are you alive? Why are you not dead, like so many before you? Why would I bother to be here now, speaking these words? I see your potential."
Empress cupped her hand against his helmet.
"You like it, do you not? You bring such chaos with you wherever you go, such havoc. " Her eyes went half-lidded at the word, an expression of bliss on her face. "I can't help but be drawn to it."
"You have been given a rare gift, that of clarity. It is given to so few; do not waste it."
All that he could do in that moment was stand and walk shakily back to the command chair, knowing—feeling—the Empress's gratified, satisfied grin at his back.