"Commander, look out!"

Before I could turn around or duck, before I could even bat an eyelash or even comprehend what was shouted at me, everything began spinning, tumbling end over end in a sickening spin of ship, sky, and sea until I felt something hard and unyielding hit me from behind and all went black.

The next thing I knew, I was drowning, slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean, unable to breathe. I flailed and thrashed as I clawed my way back toward the light, my lungs burning as I broke the surface. Coughing and sputtering, I looked around for something, anything to help me keep afloat. That desperation was fueled by a sudden sharp, almost debilitating jolt of pain that shot through my left leg every time I kicked. I wasn't going to last long treading water on an injured leg. Fortunately, I spotted a large section of the wooden flight deck not too far away and I clumsily swam toward it.

I managed to haul myself up onto it and lay there for a few seconds, still trying to expel the seawater from my lungs as I watched the battle raging around me. Wildcats darted in and out of Siren bomber formations, disrupting attack runs as they tried to avoid being shot down by their escorts. AA tracer fire lanced through the sky and puffs of flak blossomed overhead, hoping to hit an oncoming attacker. And all the while, Enterprise sailed further and further away.

At first, I wasn't too concerned. Enterprise was undoubtedly busy with the battle at hand and stopping to try and rescue me in the middle of an attack would've put us both at risk. Once she'd dealt with the Siren attack, I was certain she would come back and pick me up. In the meantime, I decided to examine my leg. As I rolled up my pant leg, I saw that it was inflamed, swollen, and from the constant pain throbbing up and down the limb, almost surely broken. The good news, what little there was, was that there were no open wounds or signs of bleeding. At least I wouldn't have to worry about sharks for a while.

As time went on, however, and I drifted further and further away from the battle and the sounds faded into the distance, I began to worry. Did Enterprise survive the battle? Had she been incapacitated and unable to let others know where I was? Had I drifted too far away from my original location for her to find me?

As the sun began to slip below the horizon, taking the light with it, I heard the sound of aircraft nearby. Hope stirred in my chest as I eagerly scanned the sky, looking for my would-be rescuers, but in the fading light, I couldn't spot them, and I had no way of signaling them. I could only hope they would spot me and signal back to base. The sounds began to fade away, leaving only the sound of the wind, the waves lapping against my makeshift raft and a feeling of my own looming mortality.

When it comes to survival, there is one rule you live(or die) by: the rule of threes. The human body can go three minutes without oxygen, three hours in a harsh environment without shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. And I'd been in the water for a while now. The cold North Atlantic ocean had sapped much of my body heat when I went in, and while I'd gotten partially dry on the flight deck, I was still damp and the autumn chill was doing little to warm me up. My hands were already feeling like ice, almost painfully stiff, and I knew numbness was going to set in before too long. Once the extremities started going, I wasn't going to have long before hypothermia showed up, and then it was only a matter of time.

I glanced over the edge of my makeshift raft and stared into the dark blue abyss beneath me. I thought about just giving up, rolling into the sea, and letting the ocean claim me. From what I'd heard, drowning isn't a bad way to go. But I'd banished the thought almost as soon as it entered my mind. Even if this was my time to die, I wasn't about to just lie down and let fate claim me. I was determined that I was going to make Death work for it. I held on as long as I could, past the twilight glow of evening and some time into the night. But in the end, I felt myself slipping away. Try as I might, struggle as I may, I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. And as the darkness took me, I could have sworn I heard something roar in the distance…

Warmth. The first thing I remember after that was the feeling of being warm again. Was I dead? I didn't think my limbs would still feel so heavy in the hereafter, nor my mouth so parched. Groggily, I began to stir and opened my eyes. As things began to come into focus, I realized I was staring at a wooden ceiling, the exposed crossbeams giving it an ancient feel to it. My eyes seemed to have problems fully focusing, however, or at least, I thought so, as the light seemed to continually flicker. After about ten seconds of trying to blink away the issue, a voice to my right startled me.

"About time you woke up, mortal," the bratty voice sneered, "It seems you're tougher than I thought."

I snapped upright and looked over at the owner of the voice, a young woman seated across from me. She wore a red and black gothic dress adorned with several Iron Crosses, and her black hair, streaked with red and white, was pulled up into two large ponytails. Her golden eyes looked me up and down as the corners of her mouth pulled up into a smug, predatory grin. "Here I was thinking it'd take you a week to come around," she sighed. "At least you won't be my problem anymore…"

I tried to answer her, only to find my mouth and throat were so dry I could barely speak. After watching me struggle for a few moments, the mystery girl raised a slender eyebrow at me and jeered, "What's the matter, human, too terrified to properly speak?"

Finally, I was able to croak out, "Water," and her overbearing demeanor lessened. Slightly.

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed a pitcher from the table beside her and poured it into a goblet. With an aggrieved sigh, she then got up, stomped over to me, and thrust the cup toward me, the liquid almost sloshing over the edge.

I quickly snatched it from her and downed the contents in a single gulp, grateful for some relief. "Thank you," I rasped as I held out the goblet. "More, please."

Again, she rolled her eyes and let out a quiet tch! as she stomped back over to the table, snatched the pitcher from its surface, stomped back to me, and none-too-gently set it down on the nightstand beside me. "I am not your servant, fool. Here, do it yourself. I have to inform my Lady that you're awake, anyway."

I nodded as my brain began processing things at a somewhat reasonable pace. "Who is your Lady? And who are you, exactly?"

She was halfway to the door when I began peppering her with questions, and she came to what I could only describe as an annoyed halt before she spun around. "Who am I? Who am I?" she haughtily asked. She placed her hands on her hips in an attempt at an imperious pose and declared, "Tremble, mortal! Before you is the Fiend of the Crimson Darkness, the Avatar of Fear, the Iron Blood destroyer, Z24! All you need to do is grovel at my feet!"

When I did not immediately prostrate myself before her nor show any other signs of subservience or submission, she huffed indignantly. "Nothing in existence can stand before me without succumbing to abject terror... or so I thought. Why aren't you afraid of me?"

As I filled my goblet, I shrugged. "Dunno. Probably because I just escaped death."

"Yes," she scowled. "Well, we'll see how long that lasts. Don't go anywhere!" She paused for a moment, then scoffed, "As if you could," before she stormed out, slamming the heavy wooden door behind her.

I idly wondered what exactly she meant by that as I fully took in my new surroundings. The walls were grey stone, occasionally buttressed by wooden beams, and the flickering light was from a fire crackling away in a fireplace to the right of the bed. The blankets that had covered me were soft grey furs, and the bed seemed to be an antique, with intricate carvings on the headboard. The question of where am I almost became a question of when am I. Only the fact that Z24 had told me her name, as well as her affiliation with the Iron Blood(if her name and dress hadn't been a dead giveaway), kept me grounded in the present.

Something else was bothering me as well, something of a more immediate, physical concern. My left leg felt like it had somehow gotten tangled up in the sheets, and when I threw off the heavy fur blanket, I saw that it had been wrapped up in a bandage and placed in some large, plastic, boot-like contraption. I guess that's what Z24 meant by me being unable to leave.

In any case, it was probably best if I stretched my legs, at least, and I awkwardly shuffled over to the edge of the bed and swung my feet over. After a few tentative tests, I attempted to get up. It was a bad idea. Almost as soon as I put any weight on my left foot, I felt a jolt of pain run up my leg and I quickly sat back down on the bed. All I could really do is wait for Z24 to return, hopefully with crutches.

In the meantime, I wondered whose guest I was. This didn't seem like Bismarck's sort of setup, at least, not based on our intelligence files on her. Friederich de Grosse, perhaps? It was a possibility, but, we knew so little about her at the time. I tried to think of any Iron Blood kansen who had a penchant for all things medieval and came up with a blank. Maybe Graf Zeppelin, but that was a long shot. Either our intelligence was lacking, or deemed it otherwise unimportant, or this was someone I'd never met before.

It was that last possibility that worried me the most, on many levels. If this was someone new, it meant that the Iron Blood had acquired the capability to construct new shipgirls who'd never existed before, something that we hadn't been able to do yet. While an uneasy truce was in place, I feared that the peace may not be a lasting one, especially if the Iron Blood had gained such a massive technological advantage over us.

I put that fear to the back of my mind as best I could, there was no point worrying about it now. Wait to see who this "Lady" was and then go from there. In the meantime, I thought it best to get acquainted with my surroundings and keep drinking water to help rehydrate. As I continued to slake my thirst, I idly hoped they'd at least modernized the bathrooms in here. I wasn't a huge fan of chamber pots for a wide variety of reasons.

Not long after, the heavy wooden door opened on creaky hinges and Z24 returned, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. She maneuvered it to the bedside and gestured to it with an annoyed look. "Get in, mortal," she snapped. "My Lady wants to see you."

I balked at the idea of meeting whoever this "Lady" in something like a wheelchair, not if I could still stand on one good leg. "You have any crutches?"

Z24 sighed and rolled her eyes before she answered. "Yes, but it'll take forever and a day for you to hobble down there. The wheelchair's much faster."

"Look, if I'm going to meet with my rescuer, I'm going to do it standing up if I can," I shot back. "Crutches. Please."

A mocking grin crossed her face. "She thought you might say that," she smiled darkly as she headed back to the doorframe and reached around into the hall to produce a pair of crutches. "Here," she said as she tossed them at me. "Now get on your feet, we're going to be late as it is."

As I clumsily snatched the crutches out of the air, something suddenly occurred to me. "Uh, do you have a change of clothes for me?"

"No," she snapped. "Just use the robe over there."

I followed her accusatory finger to a rather luxurious fur-lined robe that was hanging from a hook by the fireplace. I carefully got to my feet with the help of the crutches and hobbled over to it. After some doing, I managed to get the robe on without dropping the crutches and nodded to the destroyer. "Ready," I announced. "Lead on."

"About time," she huffed. "Let's go."

After making our way through the grey stone halls, we finally reached what I could only presume was our destination, a massive door emblazoned with a coat of arms consisting of two rampant dragons flanking a shield with the Iron Blood emblem. Z24 stood to the side and gestured to the doors. "She's waiting for you," she stated. "I wouldn't make her wait any longer."

Now it was my turn to sigh and roll my eyes as I began limping forward. Just as I had begun to wonder how I was going to get those massive doors open, they began to groan open on their own. Whether it was something triggered by Z24, my generous "host", or some automated system I didn't know, but nevertheless, I went inside.

Beyond the doors was a great hall, almost as big as the aircraft hangars we had back home, although far more ornate. Even though it was lit by several large wrought-iron chandeliers and torches on each of the massive pillars that held the roof aloft, the light was still dim and gloomy, except for one spot. A singular beam of white light shone down on a throne that appeared to be roughly hewn from a dark grey stone. As I drew closer, I could see that there was someone seated on that throne. A woman, with violet-grey hair and fur-lined black robes. Her white-gloved hands were clasped together, resting on her crossed legs, and I could see her eyeing me with a curious, amused expression.

"You've finally come, my familiar…" she greeted me, her voice easily carried throughout the hall. Before I could say anything, she caught herself, giggling softly as she corrected. "Pardon, my 'commander.' I am the Unhulde, August von Parseval. 'tis a pleasure to meet you."

My mind whirled with a dozen questions. What was an 'Unhulde'? Was she human, kansen, or something different altogether? She had black horns, much like a ram's, which led me to suspect a kansen, but I'd never heard of any ship by that name. Who was she, and more importantly, who was I to her? Was I her prisoner or her new officer? I was extremely confused. She was being polite, however, so I decided to at the very least, extend the same courtesy for the time being. "Likewise," I said with a diplomatic smile. "I understand I have you to thank for my well-being."

"Indeed you do," she nodded, the light glinting off the silver inlaid into her horns. "It was a close-run thing, and you were fortunate that we found you when we did. Death had nearly claimed you, and it was a struggle to keep him from taking your soul."

An involuntary shudder ran through me at her rather…descriptive mention of my brush with death. "Again, my deepest thanks, but you seem to have me at somewhat of a disadvantage. I'm not familiar with you or your title. Unhold?"

She gave me a slightly supercilious smile as she corrected me. "Unhulde," she answered, annunciating each syllable so I could better understand it. "An ancient witch. 'tis I, August von Parseval, Iron Blood aircraft carrier. I am but a vessel, but I am also the chains that bind you. Remember this, my familiar. Or should I say, 'Commander?'"

Another shiver ran up my spine at the mention of chains and binding, not to mention her familiar. "You say chains and binding, am I your prisoner here?"

The soft smile on her face did little to ease my fears as she shook her head. "Of course not. You are bound to me in a different sense."

When she didn't elaborate further, I asked her directly. "So I'm free to leave?"

"Do not be so foolish, my familiar," she giggled with a shake of her head. "You cannot simply leave."

At this point, frustration well and truly set in. I felt ridiculous, standing before this kansen who I knew nothing about, dressed in a robe and some sort of…medical space boot, and she wasn't giving me a straight answer. "Why not?" I asked, probably a bit more loudly and forcefully than I had intended. I know I certainly didn't intend for what happened next.

A low, rumbling growl emanated from behind Parseval's throne, and something stirred in the darkness. A dull orange glow emanate from behind her throne, traveling upwards until a mane of fire flared into existence, along with three pairs of burning eyes, illuminating the creature that had been slumbering in the darkness the entire time. It had the mechanical hallmarks of an Iron Blood kansen's rigging, but instead of looking like some sort of sea monster, it resembled a massive dragon. Powerful claws dug into the stone as it leaned past the throne and roared at me. I took a half step back as I realized that was the noise I heard as I lay dying out there on the ocean.

August casually reached out and patted the dragon's forearm. "Quiet, you…" she admonished the massive steel dragon as if she were scolding a disobedient puppy. Once the beast slowly, begrudgingly slunk back to its place behind her throne, she fixed me with an apologetic smile "Your arrival has merely made my aide a little wary. Pay it no mind."

"Uh-huh…" I warily acknowledged and watched it for a few seconds longer before I returned my attention to her. "So, you were telling me how I'm not a prisoner but I can't leave."

Again, that infuriating smile of hers returned as she leaned back and interlocked her fingers. "So I was," she nodded slowly. "'Tis quite simple. You are not shackled, chained, or otherwise physically bound to this castle in any way. The main entrance will open for you if you so desire. Of course, how you will get anywhere, how you will find shelter, food, and fresh water, will be another matter entirely. One that I think will prove to be much more difficult for you in your condition."

While she wasn't wrong, I wasn't about to just sit back in some comfortable castle while the rest of my shipgirls were out there fighting for their lives, broken leg or no. "Then let me call for one of my kansen to come get me. Arrange a meeting in a neutral port, a ship-to-ship transfer. I can't just sit on the sidelines and do nothing."

Her look changed ever so slightly to one of approval. Nevertheless, she still shook her head. "I'm afraid that's quite out of the question. The Sirens have placed several Mirror Seas in the North Atlantic to hamper the Eagle Union's rescue attempts. The only way we could guarantee your safe return would be to take a sizeable force and we currently can't spare that many ships from our current endeavors."

"Then at least let me contact them!" I shouted, realizing just as quickly that I didn't want to startle the dragon. Fortunately, the mechanical beast didn't seem as perturbed this time, simply lifting his massive head and staring at me for several long seconds before he lowered it back down. I shuffled forward on my crutches so I wouldn't be tempted to raise my voice again and hissed, "I need to speak with them and if you won't let me, then I'll crawl on my goddamn hands and knees to the nearest town just to borrow a phone and make the call my damn self!"

"While the sight of you on your knees is rather appealing to me, my familiar," she cooed as she rose from her seat, striding towards me, "I will give you what you desire…this time." She stopped in front of me, her violet eyes peering into mine. I stared back defiantly, almost challenging her to do something.

The corners of her mouth turned up in a triumphant smile as she saw the willful opposition in my eyes. "Yes, resist me," she whispered as she leaned close, her breath hot on my cheek. "I look forward to seeing your reaction when you realize that all your struggling has been for naught…"

A shiver ran up my spine, and much to my horror, I couldn't tell if it was from fear or anticipation. Before I could respond, however, she strode past me, stopping when she was halfway towards the doors. "Well, my familiar?" she asked. "Are you coming or not?"

I suppressed a grumble as I began limping toward her. Regardless of how long I was actually going to be here, this was going to be a very interesting stay…

A/N-And here we are once more! I'm sure this won't be a long stay. Someone will come pick him right up and get him back to Azur Lane territory any minute, right? Any minute, right? Guys? Saratoga? Until next time, fair winds and following seas!