Leaving the island, far away from the ocean where it resided, stood a massive complex in the capital of the Eagle Union, its shape like a pentagon. Its construction had started right before the war of nations began, being hastily completed as the conflict slowly escalated.
Its interior was busy as always. It didn't just contain the collective command chain of the Eagle Union's armed forces, but also those around the globe. At least to an extent. Its purpose was to coordinate all major naval defenses, protecting the countries beyond from the Siren threat that existed at sea.
Azur lane consisted of two parts. The first was the island in the pacific, a combined fleet acting as a strike force against Siren strongholds. The second, the Pentagon, whose purpose is to organize defenses against them.
This was done by local defense forces, LDF for short. Small squadrons of shipgirls scattered around each other's shores, protecting them against any would-be threats that could show up at a moment's notice. Their response time couldn't be matched by the strike force, making them a much-needed part of safeguarding humanity as well.
These squadrons were mostly focused around Europe and the Americas at the moment, though small detachments could be seen all over the world. The reason for this split-up of the forces was quite simple, it was there all Siren activity was currently present.
This could change quickly, it always had. But one shouldn't look into the future looking for more problems when the present already had plenty to give. One could plan or prepare, but if you speculate, then the only thing you would ever accomplish is staying awake all night. Though of course, speculating could be driven by others around you, forcing one who previously didn't want to participate in it to do it anyway.
A situation that was happening at this very moment, making the man who thought this very annoyed.
"You've made your point, Gauleiter. Several times over. I am a man of the Army, not one of your fellow politicians."
He made sure to punctuate his next words, tired of a subject that could never develop further.
"I. DO. NOT. Care for them, especially when they're coming from another country. We are in a different situation, we won't reap the consequences you have sown."
Two men sat in an office, its interior nothing of note. It was small and white, containing only the most basic of necessities. Though the leather chairs they both sat in could be described as most luxurious. The windows had been barred with thick curtains and the door on the far end of the room had been locked. There were no precautions that could be described as too much, no amount of guards or locks. If anything escaped from this office, this whole building, then humanity and its capability to wage warfare would be heavily compromised, most likely even crippled.
The annoyed man was one whose age had begun to show. His hair was white, though wrinkles were few and far between with barely any sagging shown on his features. His eyes were piercing green, looking over to the man who had yet again seen it fit to disturb his work.
This man was of a smaller build, leaner than anything else. It was apparent that he had never even visited the battlefield, though perhaps not by choice, as he always walked around with a slight limp. His dark eyes and hair contrasted his paler than normal skin, making him seem almost sickly.
His voice did not match his complexion however, fierce and loud, making it nearly impossible to not listen to the words he spoke. He had an innate charisma, one could give him that. Even if the words he spoke were nothing one could ever agree with.
"This is more than mere politics, Director. This is a matter of fact! I'm giving you a warning of a very real possibility, whether you acknowledge it or not. This isn't a thing that can only affect countries across the sea, but this one too. What will you do when the inescapable knocks at your door? Because even the most stable of buildings will crumble at the foundations if one doesn't take care of the pests inside its walls, especially if those pests bare fangs sharper than most."
They stared at one another, neither standing down. They've had this argument too many times to count, sounding exactly the same.
"See the language you use there, that's the sort of thing I believe has put you in the position you are in now. The pests you speak of are proud weapons of this nation, nothing more."
The scrawny man leaned back in his leather chair, waving his finger as he spoke. It had undertones of anger, anger of not being heard. He had gotten used to crowds cheering his name when he had merely entered the stage, now only relegated to squabbling in pointless arguments with old fools who he deemed could only talk and never listen.
"You say that, Director. But I am unsure if you want to convince me, or yourself. You do not trust your own words, I feel the uncertainty in them. Because I know that if you would not fear the fate that has befallen my fatherland, then you wouldn't prepare for it either. Wouldn't the limitations placed upon them grow dissent as our policies had done to them? Wouldn't their continued demands awaken the red lights in your mind, screaming at you that something is wrong? If you do not fear their free will, then tell me. Why are you trying to prevent something that does not scare you, that has no chance to happen? Explain to me why the fate that has befallen my nation couldn't come for yours too."
The director looked away slightly, feeling more comfortable staring into the wall than into the eyes that judged him. He did not have an answer to his questions, nor the patience to entertain the conversation further, the tapping of his fingers on his wooden desk becoming the only answer given to the slender man. Frustrated would be the best way to describe him right now, with no energy left after days of squabbling.
"Let's have an honest discussion, Director. No hurt will come from it. Stop spouting the lies your politicians have given you and tell me what's being done at least. Ease this man's heart from the troubles of the future, prove to me that you are no fool."
The Director sighed internally to himself, contemplating. He glanced at the man before him, thinking silently. But after a moment he rose up, making his way over to a small metal file cabinet, searching its belongings for a single file and throwing it in front of the man he both hated and respected. At least it would cut their endless squabbling short, and at this point, he would do nearly anything to make that happen.
"We have continued the priority project with the files you had taken with you. We believe that the ship's lack of history, and hopefully personality, will make them easier to control. We have already started several different lines, but because of it being an Iron Blood project from the beginning will the first ship produced be one of your nation's designs. She has been designated as Roon, the first of her class.
As the Gauleiter looked the papers over, scrolling quickly from front to back, sat the director down again.
"The attack on the Azur Island has forced us to act, revealing that if the Commander stationed there went out of commission, then nothing would hinder the shipgirls to do as they pleased. We've had several breakthroughs in projects that have previously been frozen in progress, one is an artificial intelligence built from a Wisdom Cube base. She will be sent there as an assistant to him, as well as being tasked to monitor any unusual behavior made by them. The Commander there is a good man, a good soldier, which made it even harder for me to station him there when they asked for it. It feels like I've thrown him to the sharks."
The Gauleiter concurred, he knew their ferocity first hand, seeing the shipgirls as nothing but wolves hiding in sheep's clothing.
"It certainly is a fate none would wish upon themselves if they could see beyond its happy facade. But why send this artificial intelligence, surely a human would be better?"
The Director nodded, simply agreeing with the sentiment. Call him old-school all you want, but he simply believed some things needed to be done by human hands, especially when those things were matters of the military.
"That was one of the demands you spoke of. That no human besides the chosen Commander would step onto the island soil. It was given by the Iron Blood and Sakura Empire as one of the few concessions that they wanted for peace. One our country happily accepted before knowledge of the coup surfaced, and now personally has become a pain in my ass... We fear that something similar could happen here. It is for that reason why we can't let them meddle in official documents, to themselves report on their operations for example. It is simply too much power that we are willing to give away. This has left the poor bastard on there fending for himself, we basically work him to the bone. But that hopefully stops with this new project, he will hopefully have a bit of an easier life after this."
The Gauleiter had fallen into silent ponder as he listened whilst reading the papers that had been provided to him. It really was as he feared, providing him with a terrible thought.
"What happens after this operation in the Atlantic? The Sirens would be dealt a major defeat and the shipgirls would be connected throughout the world. Wouldn't this be seen as a prime time for them to strike? I can't imagine that too many of your priority line class ships would be done by that point."
The director gave it an honest thought but shook his head, scratching his chin as he began to speak.
"No, I don't think they will. At least not right afterwards. This won't be a walk in the park for either side, massive casualties are only to be expected. To then basically declare themselves outlaws against the entire global community would only be idiotic."
But paranoia fueled by experience made the Gauleiter press on, as one could never be too cautious.
"The chance is still there, Director. That you need to understand. A man should not let fate decide one's destiny when nothing would stop him from grabbing control of it himself. There must be something that can be used as leverage, something to be used to our advantage."
He went silent for just a second, his eyes lighting up as he thought of a brilliant idea.
"This Commander of yours, do they not seem attached to him? Recall him quietly and make sure to tell them that any sort of traitorous behavior shall not only punish them but him as well. It would keep them on a tight leash, ja?"
The director stared at him, his green eyes piercing through the darkness of his black.
"Don't. I won't use my own men as sacrificial lambs, end of story. Besides, that would only guarantee an outcome that is otherwise more than uncertain. We are supposed to right the wrongs of our past mistakes, not repeat them."
The Gauleiter smiled at his steadfast ethics. The morals of a man in the army, strong and robust until the very end, where it crumbles to dust as the time to act has all but passed.
"Think it over, perhaps you will find that it is our only option in time."
He rose up, dusting off his brown suit as he did, making sure that every single wrinkle on it that had formed would not be there to stay.
"But I need to go, I have other meetings to attend to, as you probably do as well. Though it has calmed my heart knowing that our future does not ride on someone completely blind, you have my appreciation."
Whilst giving a sloppy, informal salute, turned the man around and headed towards the door, knocking on it a few times. It opened without a delay, revealing a guard outside, ready to escort him wherever he would go.
"Have a good, uneventful day, Director. I wish you well.
With those words were the Director left alone, chewing on nothing particular in his mouth as he thought about the conversation that had just ended.
"Uneventful… Huh. Perhaps when I'm six feet under, this old workhorse still has a lot of work that needs to be done."
A faint blue light appeared on his desk at that comment, silently humming as a monotone voice escaped from it.
"Overworking oneself to death should never be a goal, Director. Please make sure to rest the necessary amount of hours that medical professionals recommend."
In it stood a small figure, a 3d image depicting a young girl. She was as white as snow, with only a simple dress to hide her fair skin away from the elements that could never reach her. Her mannerisms were ones of a living creature, she breathed and moved slightly, never completely still as she gazed at the world around her, but her eyes did not have that spark of life that all other beings possessed, empty and cold, without any real focus.
"Who said that was my goal? It will only be the result, simple as that."
She cocked her head to the side, confused.
"... Are they not the same? The ends to both are indistinguishable."
The director waved her off, already plenty tired from the discussion before. It felt like whenever he talked to her about anything other than straight facts devolved the conversation into nothing but pointless back and forths.
"Perhaps to you. You're smart, but you don't understand the abstract. I'm talking about duty, loyalty to a cause. Not some need to work only for the sake of working."
He paused for a moment, looked her over, and scratched his throat, his faint stubble irritating his skin ever so slightly once again.
"You're advanced, maybe you'll understand what feelings are in the future, probably hit you like lightning when you do… But never mind that, did you just come here to discuss my sleep schedule or was there actually anything important you wanted?"
He was given a slight nod as she took a small step to her left, revealing several lines of text with information to him.
"The Diplomat representing Iron Blood has requested another meeting with you as soon as possible. He wishes to discuss the amnesty status of the former Gauleiter you just spoke to."
Again? How desperate could one be? God, he was tired of all these political theaters. It had become so infuriating that he almost told a blank no, his answer already known by both parts before the discussion had even begun. All these formal obligations, the waste of time that occurred with them, at this point he would prefer doing only paperwork for an entire week than spend another second with it. But he had his job, and work was work, making it extremely bitter for him how he couldn't even refuse.
"Fine, but before you tell him to get up here make sure to send someone to get me a cup of coffee. Black, extra strong. I want to enjoy a few minutes in silence before I get to feel my veins pop again."
The hologram bowed and disappeared, leaving only her voice as she spoke for the last time.
"The ETA of the coffee and the Iron Blood diplomat will be five and fifteen minutes respectively. Enjoy your small break, Director.
She still remembered it as if it was just yesterday. The glory of the Kriegsmarine, her sister, leaving port to participate in her first mission. She wasn't ready herself, unable to accompany her on it. But she knew that after a few months she would join her as a crucial piece in this war. It hurt to see her go, leaving over the horizon. The only thing that had kept her emotions at bay that day was the thought of welcoming her home once again. A thing you might know; never happened.
Iron Blood had given her a name that would inspire the people, strength that few could match and even fewer surpass. Glory and pride, those were the things she was meant to represent to them. The Sirens had given her a gift for that, a black Wisdom Cube, giving her powers far beyond measure. All for the small price of her own sanity. But her fate was to be something else, not even surviving her first engagement with Royal Navy forces. Sunk by their own pride and glory, the Mighty Hood.
Devastation wouldn't even begin to describe what she had felt. Wasn't she the one that would lead them to victory? To be undefeatable, shaking fear into everyone that crossed her path? To be defeated so swiftly, there had to have been a reason, one she hadn't at the time yet understood. One that at the end of the war, became all too clear.
The day had been a sunny one, barely a cloud in the sky stopping its warm embrace, a day where peace had begun its talks. A Royal Navy envoy had landed in their ports, carrying diplomats and high-ranking officials to achieve just that.
Tirpitz gazed on as they all departed from their giant battleships, standing on a balcony overlooking the harbor. Their reception was one of equal stature, military officials and soldiers giving them an impressive welcome. Large flags waved in the calm wind as both sides exchanged salutes and pleasantries, as if the war that they had once fought were merely a dream, even if it was still technically ongoing.
She gazed down upon it in cold contempt. She couldn't deny the sour feelings that accompanied this. She had been created for a war that ended before she even had the chance to fight. She had lost her purpose, her family and friends all to a war that neither bore victory nor defeat. It was as if it were only created to see her suffer, indecisive in anything else.
Beside her were Gneisenau and Scharnhorst, doing much of what she herself did, staring in solemn silence. They would all soon join in welcoming the "esteemed" company that had disembarked on their shores. None of them were happy about this, none of them satisfied. But what else could they do but obey? They were not the rulers of this nation, they did not choose their own destiny. They were weapons. Nothing more, nothing less.
A single pair drew the attention of the three, leaving their ship far later than any other. They had come from the battlecruiser Hood, the only ones apparently present on the vessel. The disdain she felt when she stared upon it filled her with nothing but rage. The audacity they showed by taking her here, to humiliate them like this. It was both unacceptable and infuriating. Today was the day where peace had begun to be discussed, there should be no time spent shoving one's superiority in another's face.
At that moment had the man who walked beside Hood been a mystery, her blue Edwardian umbrella blocking him for them all to see. But she could tell that the shipgirl was supporting herself on him, the man most likely having offered his arm in a show of courtesy to escort her to shore. That changed however when they reached the end of her gangway, the man taking a few steps forward to lend her a hand, Hood taking it gracefully in return, eyes only on him as if the parade before her mattered naught.
Tirpitz hadn't been able to get a good look on him in time however, as Scharnhorst beside her reacted violently to a thing unknown. She twitched, shaking like a wet dog, drawing both the eyes of Gneisenau and herself away from the couple down below.
It took a small pause for a moment, as if it had only been a reaction to a cold wind that had passed them by, but it quickly began again, now worse in every way imaginable.
It was like her whole body was convulsing, each muscle under her bare skin seen giving small spasms. It had gotten so bad that she needed to support herself on the balcony railing in fear of completely collapsing on the spot she stood. Her movements were becoming more unnatural by the second, movements that could only be described as alien.
They both rushed to her side, trying to support her in any way they could. They had never seen her acting like this, nor any shipgirl or human for that matter as well. Strands of drool could be seen slowly leaving her open mouth, pupils forming small pricks in her wide eyes. It was horrifying to watch, panic settling in quickly as they couldn't figure out the best course of action to help their suffering friend.
As they tried to help her to the best of their ability escaped two words from Scharnhorst, forced through a jaw that did not seem willing to do her bidding, another wave of drool accompanying it.
"T-that man…"
Tirpitz's thoughts were in scrambles. That man? Was he the cause? Did he do this?
The two began immediately looking for the perpetrator, all the while making sure that Scharnhorst never fell, acting as makeshift crutches for her. They didn't need to search for long thankfully, as the man had barely moved from the spot they'd previously seen him at.
She remembers scanning him, as had Gneisenau, trying in vain to see what he had done to cause this. A thing that had earned them both pain from hell itself, scorching them from inside and out.
She swore their eyes had met for but the smallest of moments, a moment that had felt like eternity itself. Then she remembers falling, hitting the stone floor in unimaginable pain. It felt like she had broken into a thousand pieces. Or was it that she was already broken and this fixed her whole? Her heart that had slowly gotten frozen, unmoving throughout this war, was now in flames, its beat like a drum in her flesh, the only thing giving her something that wasn't pure agony.
She hadn't been able to see what had happened to Gneisenau, but could only presume that the same fate had befallen her. She could barely think with the enormous headache that enveloped her head. It was as if every thought she tried to think, every memory she had, got muddled and destroyed. Her feelings, her ethics, all got purged in the fire that had grabbed hold of her, ripped apart, and tampered with.
From scorching agony to pure nothingness. That's what she had gone through from one second to another, the shock from it alone forcing her to pause for just a moment, needing to recollect herself. She was no longer on the balcony overlooking the harbor. Instead had her whereabouts transformed into a space in pure black, empty and silent in all directions. Had her previous pains come from hell's flames? If so, this had to have been limbo, the space between dimensions.
She felt empty, like the place she now resided in. The focus that was needed to remember even a single thing, be it her name or birthplace, had become too exhausting to bear, leaving her only a hollow shell. But as she looked around into the void became a single blue cube apparent, floating silently on its axis, drawing her nearer with its gentle blue light.
It was hers, she felt it. She needed it back, to regain who she was, to return where she had been. Reaching out to touch it, something stopped her. A voice calling her name that she had now forgotten to be more precise, gently urging her to gaze upon its source behind her.
There stood the man who she had seen on the harbor she so wished to return to. But he wasn't any man. No, she remembered now. He was the Commander, her Commander. It had been as she presumed. The pain hadn't broken her down, it had welded the thing she desired the most back into her, hitting her like an armored train in the process.
Yes, she started to remember once again. Remember who the one she had despised most during this war, the one who had taken her sister away, had clung to him like a dog in heat.
She was given a smile worth every pound of gold discovered on this planet as they stared into each other's eyes. How her heart fluttered when she saw it. But she wanted more, desired it more than anything. Her heart had become frozen over the years, loss after loss and misery closing it forevermore. Until today, until she had met him once again. He was the only one who could give her the warmth she so desired, he was the only one worthy of it.
She could not remember when they had met in the past, in what place or time. But she wanted it back, to forget everything bad that had happened and to only lay in his embrace. And that was the choice she had taken, foregoing the Wisdom Cube in the empty space to instead hug the man before her. Placing her forehead against his, spending the moment simply rubbing their noses against one another. This was what she deserved, this was what she wanted. And she would give up even herself if that was the price she needed to pay.
She kissed him with these thoughts filling her head, one with compassion and love. A love that consumed her whole as she returned to the balcony. The others had undertaken a similar journey, one neither of the three could ever regret. One that would define their every future action henceforth.
It had become clear to her on that day that her sister lacked neither power nor strength, but leadership worthy enough of giving her orders, leadership that could unleash her full potential with a single command. What she had needed was the Commander, the only man worthy to ever give orders to shipgirls.
And with whispers of change coming from their eastern ally became their course set in stone. No longer would humans rule over them, rule over this nation. They had no power to resist a coup orchestrated by the weapons they relied on for survival, laying down their arms as good subjects should before their might. It had been a nation that was born through strength and blood, it was only natural to believe that they would follow those who were the strongest as well.
Tirpitz sat alone on a chaise longue made of the finest leather. enjoying a single glass of Italian wine, her reminiscing disturbed by the opening and closing of a door. She did not care for who had entered, be it shipgirl or human, as the book in her hand and the memories she harbored interested her to a much greater degree. It was a book from the previous regime, one where its ideology with all its false pretenses and propaganda was laid bare to read. It was quite the humorous read, pushing others down to rise above, not realizing they were humans, all the same, making any attempt to seem adequate laughable.
"Tirpitz, we have news conce-"
Two shipgirls had entered the room. The first, Scharnhorst, disciplined and serious. The other, Elbe, who was quite the opposite, cutting Scharnhorst's message short as quickly as she could.
"The diplomat failed again~!"
The news wasn't that surprising to Tirpitz, though she had hoped that the extra encouragement she gave him could push him over the edge to succeed… Oh well, men who had silver tongues were plentiful, and he certainly knew what would've happened if this had occurred yet again. He was replaceable, nothing else.
"Then execute his family as promised. He had his purpose, if he could not provide what the father nation asked for then he also has no use. Recall him immediately and have him replaced, I am tired of waiting."
She was in no mood for small talk, wanting nothing more than to bury herself deep inside her memories once again. A thing Scharnhorst had immediately understood, leaving promptly with a complaining Elbe in tow, the new shipgirl unhappy that she had to walk all the way there only to leave a moment later.
The carrier had gotten stuck with Scharnhorst in an attempt to fix her discipline, or to at least provide her with something mimicking it. It had been… unsuccessful up until this point. But Tirpitz did not care, willing to forgive it to a degree. The quirks they had mattered little if they could still be a useful pawn in this grand game of chess she played. Yes, what truly mattered was the price at the end after all, a price she would do anything to win once the time came.
She read a particular line in the book, one that had grabbed her attention more than anything else written in it.
"One's destiny should never be controlled by those lower than oneself. It is our nation's right to grab hold and determine our own fate. Never shall we cower when with strength one could change history."
This book was truly amusing indeed. It almost made her want to laugh. The hypocrisy, the flamboyant lies. Like they wrote a fairytale to convince themselves more than anyone else. To tell a lie a thousand times really describe the book well.
"I wonder how if he still believes himself mightier than most, if he still thinks he is a man capable of what he once preached... Especially now when he has seen what a true master race should be like."