[One year after the Brevon Incident; Two days after the end of the Gotoshi Naisen]

Far out into the Eastern Ocean floats a solitary green shuttlecraft of terrifying visage, consisting seemingly of nothing but sharp spikes and blades. Despite it being out in the open, the shuttle's two occupants are totally confident they will not be discovered, certain that no fleet of the Gotoshi, the Origin Kingdoms, the Southern Islands, nor any other territory patrols this far from land.

Inside the shuttle, the captain sits at his console in the cockpit, his hulking green form filling the room with his formidable presence. The beast's dark orange armour and boots, silver wrist guards, and brown cloak lie to one side, having been eschewed in favour of a simple one‑piece sienna bodyglove. As he casually sips on his favourite beverage, the beast pours over the reams of data that have been flooding in over the past few days, scanning for and picking out the same three terms from each piece: 'Corazon', 'Sigwada', and 'Bakunawa'. And it's not long before he finds what he needs.

With the relevant information collected, the beast quickly collates and sorts the data, eliminating the irrelevant, the vacuous, and the just plain wrong. Eventually, what remains is a concise reference that contains all the important information linked to the three names of interest. A hater of dragons whose younger sister is best friends with one of the very few that remain. It's the sort of coincidence you only see in ridiculous action movies, but that won't stop me taking full advantage. The beast leans back in his chair, his beverage now finished. One year since I was stranded here by those interfering children, and now I finally have some leverage against them. "I have a message to send."

A green‑and‑black twin‑tentacled floating cephalopod robot materialises over the right shoulder of the beast. ++Who is the message for?++

"Corazon Tea. I have some information that will prove useful to her."

++Very well sir.++

In the northern reaches of the Southern Islands archipelago lies the military compound of the barkada known as Itim Tsaa. In its centre sits a large fortified command building, atop which is situated the personal quarters of barkada leader Corazon Tea. Since her escape from her own execution at the hands of the late Coraline Tea five years previous, and the subsequent hostile takeover of what used to be run by seasoned criminal Dalika Calayan in his own name just a few weeks later, the two‑tone viridian wildcat in a matt black bodyglove has been plotting her vengeful return to the Origin Kingdoms.

Or she had, up until the Kingdom Stone was stolen a year ago, then destroyed three days later. With her plans in ruins, Corazon had been forced to regroup and start again. Unfortunately for her, the year since the Brevon Crisis had resulted in almost no progress. Nevertheless, Corazon doesn't let her failures discourage her: instead, she uses them to fuel her desire and motivation.

With the afternoon sun bathing her quarters in a soft light, Corazon pours over reams of information yet again, no longer bothering to count how many times she's reviewed the same useless data, hoping for a nugget of promise. However, her patience only lasts so long before she allows her frustration to boil over. Abandoning her work, she stands and strides into the centre of the room, then unleashes a brutal assault on the punching bag hanging‑

A beep from her computer catches her attention, and she freezes in place, her right leg less than an inch from striking the bag. A direct message? How can that be? No‑one knows my personal message box address. Curious and suspicious, Corazon returns to her desk, opens the message, and reads:

++++++++++++++++++++
Corazon,

Word has reached me of a couple of items that may be of interest to you. I believe they can help you in your attempts to seek vengeance against those who have shunned your brilliance, and to rescue your sister from the clutches of the sole remaining descendant of the familial lineage that oppressed your own for numerous centuries.

The first is an airship known as the Sigwada. It is being constructed by the armed forces that defend the region you currently reside in. Construction is almost complete: if you so desire, it is complete enough for you to steal it. I am confident that any remaining work can be carried out by your greasemonkey.

But it is the second that you will be more interested in: the Bakunawa. Details are scarce, but enough information survives to confirm that it is an ancient draconic superweapon of immense capabilities. With it, you will be able to subjugate not just the Origin Kingdoms, but all Avalice.

Why do I not make use of them myself? Simple: I have no interest in world domination. All I seek is the destruction of the one who destroyed everything I have worked for: Sash Lilac. However, my plans are not yet ready for execution. Therefore, I offer you a simple deal: agree to hand the dragon to me, and I will provide you with the information required to locate and utilise the Bakunawa.

I await your answer.
++++++++++++++++++++

Who the fuck is this‽ Corazon starts a tracer program to track the message's origin, then stares at the message for several minutes, highly suspicious. Ancients damn my curiosity. Corazon types a reply:

++++++++++++++++++++
You better be right about this. If not, I will hunt you down and kill you with my bare claws.
++++++++++++++++++++

The reply is swift:

++++++++++++++++++++
I approve of your directness. I feel we can do business. Your answer please.
++++++++++++++++++++

I just gave you an answer. Growling with frustration, Corazon hastily sends another reply:

++++++++++++++++++++
Fine. You can have the dragon. Now give me the information.
++++++++++++++++++++

Corazon checks the status of the trace. Middle of the Eastern Ocean‽ What the‑

++++++++++++++++++++
We have an accord. As promised, the information.
++++++++++++++++++++

Corazon accepts the file transfer, directing the download to a sandbox where it can be opened safely. When the download is complete, Corazon opens the file in the sandbox with some trepidation. As she reads however, her fears are allayed one by one, each new nugget of information filling her heart with excitement and anticipation.

With her first read complete, Corazon closes the file, makes three backups on separate external media, then locks the backups in her safe. The information secure, Corazon finally allows herself to smile in wicked anticipation. If that's all accurate… Corazon quickly regains her composure. First things first: verify and confirm.

Ten minutes later, Corazon enters her greasemonkey's workshop without knocking. "Drop what you're doing and hack the military's computers."

The tiny olive tarsier in an orange jumpsuit pauses his work on a robot hip and turns to his boss. "H‑H‑H‑Hack th‑th‑the m‑m‑m‑m‑military's c‑c‑computers‽" he asks in surprise.

"Just find me everything you can on the Sigwada," Corazon commands. "Report to me when you find something worthwhile," she adds as she leaves.

Four hours later, the greasemonkey nervously approaches the door to Corazon's quarters, clutching a thick sheaf of papers covered in hasty scribbles. As he's about to knock, Corazon opens the door. "About time," she greets. "Got anything good?" she asks, stepping aside to allow the tarsier to enter the room.

"Y‑Y‑You w‑won't b‑b‑believe what I've f‑f‑f‑found!" the greasemonkey beams, handing Corazon the sheaf of papers as he enters the room.

Corazon closes the door, takes the papers, and reads through them silently. Once finished, she hands the papers back to her greasemonkey, then goes to her computer and re‑checks the file from the anonymous tipper. Excellent: it's all accurate so far. "Get your equipment."

"W‑W‑W‑Why?"

Corazon smiles in anticipation. "We're going to steal the Sigwada."