Ship Counselor Shenanigans

by ErnestTBass

Boats with feelings, what do?

15. Ghost in the Machine

I ran at full tilt out of the canteen and Akagi managed to catch up with me halfway down the gangplank. Running wasn't exactly what she was best at, so it took some effort on her part to keep up with my hysterical self. She yelled, "Where are you going?"

I screamed, "Home! They need me!"

Akagi was perplexed. "They do?"

Clairvoyant as always, Shinano was already at the beginning of the dock. Her posture was calm, but radiated an aura that made me pause. She blocked me, and if I tried to leave the dock, I would have to face her. Ayanami and Sims flanked her.

We eventually came face to face. Well, more like face to chest, but the idea's there. I asked Shinano, "Who's outbound to home? Sims is almost done with her tour here."

Shinano said in a calm voice, "Now is not the time."

I retorted, "Of course it isn't! The time was a day ago! I've got to get back there!"

"Why do you think so little of them?"

"What?"

"Do you think of them as children? I can understand the paternal perspective, but do you think they are helpless without you?"

"Far from it! I care about them! It was a tough love, but a love nonetheless! I just need-"

"You've spent all that time exercising, and now they are applying it, same as they have done before. Did you train them well?"

"Of course I did!"

"Then they will do well. They will know what to do, for you have given them the means and ways to do so. This is their test to fight without you."

I was so emotional I vibrated.

Shinano continued, "...but this is also your test to let them go."

"I can't leave them."

"You're not. Besides, realize the reality around you. No one here can immediately leave. You have many things to do here, especially that parade. We must have the people's confidence."

"When can I?"

"You, singularly? Are you planning on swimming? However, I had foreseen this. First carrier division and the cruiser sisters must stay here for refitting. That is immovable. However, Taihou and I will rebase to your port to replace them. Besides, I suppose I must eventually step out of the mists and give the sirens something to pause about. Still, that will be after your tasks are completed in my home country."

She placed her hand gently on my shoulder. Her resting strength was still enough to immobilize it. Still, I shook in anxiousness. I asked, "Is there any way around this?"

"No. Not one that ends well."

For the next few days, I was a good little boy who did his list of chores with all speed. Inside, however, was constant internal screaming. I barely ate. Power naps were the only thing my stressed brain was capable of.

The day before the parade, I was surprisingly left with some spare time. Unfortunately, the lack of something to do brought my anxiety to the forefront of my mind. I couldn't get rid of it, no matter what technique I tried. I wandered around the port, as my constant intrusive thoughts sporadically spilled out of my mouth. I realized it was getting bad when I noticed some people looking at the officer muttering to himself. I tried to find someone I knew and eventually found Takao at one of the drydocks. She was fairly level-headed.

She sat contentedly on a bench, gazing up at the workers inspecting her own superstructure. I didn't bother with a greeting and simply laid face-down on the grass next to the bench. Takao slowly turned and asked, "Can I help you?"

I said, "Distract me."

"What do you need distraction from?"

"Myself. Let's talk about something."

"What would you like to speak of?"

"I don't know. Does looking at them work feel like viewing your own surgery? Why doesn't Taihou wear pants? What do you miss about the old days?"

Takao sighed. She said, "Watching repairs and refits feels completely normal. We lose and replace parts of ourselves all the time. You know the answer to the Taihou question."

"...And the third?"

She thought for a second before saying, "I miss honor."

"What about honor?"

"It's gone.. I feel it. Today's people don't believe in honor anymore. They replace it with dignity. It actually… It actually makes me very sad."

"What's the difference?"

"Honor upholds a personal reputation. A person is judged by their words and accomplishments. Honor distinguishes those who show dedication, personal strength, great skill, and character. It brings out the individual, as everyone proves themselves in different ways. It's more than a measurement of effort. It encourages bravery and rewards those who show it. I do my best to maintain my honor to it's highest, even in the face of those who don't appreciate."

"Then what's dignity?"

"It's the opposite. Dignity discourages action, but still doesn't reward those who do nothing. It forces people down with an imagined collective perception. There's no respect. There's no improvement. There's no heroism. Just apathy. Yet, everyone follows it nowadays. I feel like I'm maintaining something that very few believe in anymore. It also seems like that number is shrinking yearly. I feel very alone and old, like I don't belong. I wonder how lady Mikasa bears it."

I asked, "Have you been listening to that Shiroyama song again?"

"...Yes."

"You know it always gets to you. Why do you keep listening to it?"

"I know, but then they start singing of the samurai and their bravery, I just…" Takao's voice cracked.

I finished her sentence, "-stare intently into the horizon with your blade drawn and intensely try to channel that energy while trying to not think about obsolescence? Hey look, just because it's a legend doesn't mean something like it won't happen again. Legends can still be made now, but…"

"What?"

"I have to agree with you that honor's not really appreciated now. People are pretty bitter and submissive these days. I bet it really does feel like nobody cares. If it makes you feel any better, I respect it."

Takao looked down. Her shoulders drooped.

I continued, "But maybe… just maybe… Now's the best time for heroes. Maybe now is when we need them most, when we don't even know it."

She perked up. "Maybe they need a reminder."

"Just because it's old, doesn't mean it's bad. Just because it's new, doesn't mean it's good. You trained rigorously, now it's time to think about what to do with that training."

"Thank you, commander. You know I owe you everything, but stop adding things to the list!"

"Just can't help it. I mean, I started an entire program run by myself to counsel you guys. Life got in the way, though."

Takao chuckled, "I believe you may need counseling just as much as us."

I also laughed, "Like you said, takes one to know one. Hey, have you considered doing that raffle thing that-"

"Absolutely not! I wouldn't trust a civilian within fifty meters of me! Also, get out of the grass. You're going to get your uniform stained and embarrass us."

Eventually, the parade was upon us. In preparation for it, workers had been scrubbing the rust and dirt off everyone's hulls to make them practically reflective. I found myself onboard Akagi once more, as I was respectfully requested to do. She inspected the decorative brass flower piece that appeared on her bow and rigging. It practically shone. Akagi's face was radiant as well. I sighed and said, "Let's get this over with."

Akagi scolded me. "I hope you're not planning on showing the people that attitude. We need their faith, and a sad face like that doesn't bring us any confidence."

"Like you care about them."

Akagi shrugged. "It would be a lie if I said I did, but someone must fill the working class. It's also much easier if they enjoy what they do, rather than forcing them to."

"So cold."

Akagi summoned a small flame on her finger and said, "I think I'm the opposite, actually."

With that, the procession began. The first carrier division, alongside with the Takao class sisters, formed up outside of Iwaki and deployed into their full warship forms. The girls themselves stood on their main decks and presented themselves however they wished. Atago and Akagi waved and occasionally made poses. Their respective sisters preferred to stand still and proud, allowing the wind to elegantly flow through their hair. The destroyers were more modest, but still presented their best. The military parade began it's ponderous journey south. We held a distance away from the land, just close enough to spot crowds. Whenever we passed by a large cluster of people, we would honk the horns. I noticed a few people with binoculars looking back at us. Regardless if I thought they were looking at me, I waved anyway. In any other situation, it would be relaxing and a brief respite from my usual war duties. However, it had the opposite effect now. Time dragged on and I simply wanted to be somewhere else.

As far as I can recall, nothing of note happened. It's possible something did, but I was so distracted at the time, I don't recall it. Around the tip of the Boso peninsula, I felt a hand on my ass. I swear, that girl constantly tests me.

"Akagi."

"What?"

"Not in the mood. Especially not in front of people… with cameras. I hate cameras."

"No one will notice, but as you wish."

The hand retreated to it's owner. I had no doubt it would return to push the boundaries and test my complacency again.

The parade climaxed with a loop around Tokyo bay. There, the most attention was upon us. I could very clearly hear people cheering at us. They seemed extremely happy and viewed us as their heroes. I wasn't ungrateful, but I didn't care for it. Like I said, I wanted to be someplace else.

Eventually, the parade came to a close, and we returned to the dockyards in Iwaki. After that, I hastily said my goodbyes to everyone. Taihou and Shinano were easy to find, almost like they wanted me to find them. Nearby, I noticed a few other ships milling around. I asked Shinano, "Home?"

"Noshiro, Agano, and Myoukou will replace the Takao class sisters. Ooshio will replace Ayanami and Uranami. An acceptable exchange, we feel."

I asked again, "Home?"

Shinano sighed. "Yes, home."

"Anchors aweigh, then."

We returned to the island as swiftly as possible. Still a few days travel, but it felt like weeks with my steadily increasing anxiety. For reasons of my personal safety, I stayed aboard Shinano. Taihou put up surprisingly little of a fight with that decision. Evidently, she knew less of Shinano than I thought. Odds were pretty good that Taihou was constantly analyzing, in the hopes to find some exploitable weaknesses. For now, she found none, and bit her tongue, but promised to make up for "lost time" with me later.

The trip was uneventful, and the sky remained overcast the entire time. The air smelled undoubtedly of autumn. It was cool and dry, but as we travelled east, it became more damp.

Eventually, a familiar string of islands came into view on the horizon. I gazed at it, but was too apprehensive to use binoculars. I looked at the silhouettes of the buildings and land and hoped they were all the same as I left them. The evening sun was behind us, and it painted the islands in a dim light. As we got closer, a few of the buildings seemed different and I felt some trees were missing, but it could've just been my head.

Taihou transmitted the sign to the port, making sure everything was clear and identifying us as friends. The harbor sent back confirmation, and told us the place was safe. Docking was no trouble. I walked down the gangplank and was greeted by Cleveland.

She said, "Welcome back. We… really tried to clean up as best we could before you came. Hope it looks good!"

I looked up the dock to the island that housed the ships' living quarters. I noticed a few areas where large circles of grass were missing. They must've been craters that had been filled in. Piles of trash and debris were scattered about. A few buildings had some damage and parts of the pavement had temporary pieces of plywood over them or were coned off. One thing stood out to me, though.

I said, "One of the buildings is missing."

Cleveland looked down. "They didn't hit our dorms directly, except Sakura's. The entire thing collapsed. Everyone's accounted for, but it's a big loss."

Suddenly, Shinano was behind me. She said, "We will rebuild."

Cleveland suddenly looked up in shock at the new person. I have a little belief that people passively send out "I am here" messages that other people subconsciously process. Subtle things like posture and facial expressions can change it, but I bet there's more to it than I can ever figure out. Shinano was unusual in that she didn't send out anything. Much like Gascogne, she didn't make any attempt at stealth, but usually nobody noticed her until she spoke.

Cleveland said, "Who are you?"

Shinano smiled, "I used to be a secret."

"That-"

I interrupted, "I'd like to walk around."

Cleveland replied, "Everyone'll be really happy to see you back."

I asked, "Are you happy?"

She smiled, "Of course I am! It's been a really rough time, and you being back makes it much better."

"That means a lot. Where is everyone?"

"Oh, we're focusing repair efforts on one island at a time. Since this one took the least damage, we're working on it last."

We made our way down the sidewalk and I assessed the damage. Every new crater in the ground or pockmark in a building hurt me. The first sign of movement was when we turned a corner. A projector had been set up and displayed a movie onto the wall of a depot. A bunch of the submarine crowd sat around and watched it. I realized they were watching Das Boot for at least the third time this year, but whatever floated their boat, I guessed. Like all the other times, U-96 was there, and provided commentary in the background. I supposed the movie was less of a documentary and more of a biography of her. They all turned, noticed me, and gave a cheer. They crowded me for a bit and welcomed me home.

"Good to be back."

I-26 asked, "We're gonna strike back, right?"

"Hell yeah, we are. As soon as we clean up here, we'll give it back to the sirens doubled."

They all whooped at this.

"But you guys finish your movie. I'm guessing you're on break, but I expect to see you back at it until dark."

They all saluted and returned to the film. I walked on and noticed a few ships moored in some docks, awaiting repairs. That reminded me of a question I didn't want to ask, but had to.

"Any casualties?"

Cleveland said, "Illustrious' rigging took too much damage to operate, so she's running on her muse system right now. I'll admit, she's not very good at it. Bremerton and Long Island got roughed up enough for their wisdom cubes to destabilize. It'll be a while until they're back in action. Everybody got banged up in some way or another, but those are the worst."

"Is that it?"

"Bismarck's also down, but it's weird. Z1 got bombed right in the noggin' toward the end of the battle right in front of her and she lost it a little. She fired one of those beams right at an Oceanall, like she did at King George, from what I've heard. Blew the thing's head off, but after that, she just… shut down. Manjuus've been fixing her ever since, but she refuses to get out of her ship form, and we can't find her anywhere on board."

"She won't come out?"

"She won't or she can't. We have no idea."

I was confused. Our understanding of wisdom cubes was still embarrassingly small, with Akashi being the individual who understood them the most. I feel their nature is half technological and half mystical. Sometimes, weird things just happened with them. I moved out, and thought to myself that Bismarck had been the focus of a lot of narrative attention lately. I thought it was high time to really address the core of her insecurities next time we met.

Bismarck wasn't hard to find. She was basically the tallest thing moored in the harbor. I saw some materials and components on the dock, awaiting to be brought onboard for repairs. From the outside, there were a few holes and dents in the armor where shells had struck, as well as many burn marks. Otherwise, it looked like she'd gotten out pretty lucky. The only time ships can't walk on the earth was when their cubes destabilized, but that only happened with extensive damage… or extensive trauma. That thought jogged my memory.

Plot-relevant flashback time!

I remembered a conversation I had a while back. Cleveland mentioned Bismarck had used her beam weapon, the last-ditch panic one. I remembered talking to her about the day she sank. It wasn't a pleasant talk, but it was one that had to be made.

The recollected scene was simple. Both of us sat in folding chairs facing each other, a card table between us. The floor was concrete gray and the walls an institutional white. When nobody was speaking, the buzz of the fluorescent lights could be heard. I stared at a collection of papers, but eventually placed them on the table.

A less experienced form of myself said, "Really is amazing seeing you here. I mean, by all accounts, you should be very much dead."

Bismarck spat out, "I died when the sirens gave me a corrupted power, and then again when you divided my nation against me. It is nothing new."

"Yeah, those certainly are some strange happenings. From what the Royals told us, you overcharged yourself on siren juice, blew a hole right in King George, and then blew yourself up."

"I rejected power that was not my own. You do not understand."

"I can agree with you there. There are a lot of things I don't understand. For example, how an entire task force watched you sink, yet I see you not a long time later heading the Iron Blood loyalists over near Gibraltar."

"They would not let me die."

"Apparently. Rest of the story is that you were defeated later, fled-"

"I did not flee."

"-changed strategies to raiding ports for fuel, until you were eventually spotted and subdued. Long story short, for somebody who meets death so often, you have an aptitude for dodging it."

"Give me some shells and I'll give you a glorious introduction to him."

"Buuuuut, you're not out of the woods yet. There are a lot (not gonna name anybody) of folks in the Royal Navy who really want to set that record straight. Only thing keeping you around is the value of you in scrap, the scientific potential of that unique cube of yours, and my own curiosity. So, you were the leader of Iron Blood at one point, but what makes you so interesting now?"

"I wield more power and ambition than you could imagine."

"Try me."

"I have caught a glimpse of the sirens and their true nature. We are so behind them, it's comical. That's why we allied with them."

"Like some kind of eldritch cosmic sugar daddy? Do you even realize your own ideology in them? They will play with you until they don't want you anymore. You'll either be trash or food for them. You haven't saved your people, you've sold your sovereignty just to put yourselves further down the list."

"Lies! Once we remove Azur Lane as earth's sole defender, we will govern the planet under their guidance! It was a beautiful future where only two nations ruled supreme! No more petty bickering! Only peace and prosperity with the sirens' technology! We both swore oaths to an alliance on our honor! Now you've doomed us all!"

I lost my composure and yelled, "Are you retarded? They have no honor! We briefly cracked some of Sakura's code books! Do you know how many promises the sirens have actually made good on with them? Not even close to half. At least their chain of command is starting to question things. You guys were still waiting, like a dog begging for table scraps!"

Bismarck stood up. "Call me a retarded dog again and I will rip you in half."

I sneered. "Don't waste your time trying to intimidate me. Just turns me on. However, I do think I got a little emotional there. I apologize."

Bismarck grimaced. "I can barely believe they would put a madman such as yourself in power."

"Same to you. You proclaimed yourself as mad, and from what I heard about what happened to King George, you've enough power to sling around. Do you want a little competition to see who's crazier to make you feel better? Looks like I've already gone first."

Bismarck dropped her guard and suddenly monologued, "If I'm not thinking, if I'm not distracted, and all is dark and quiet, sometimes I hear the music. They sing to me. They tell me things and give 'advice'. I took little of what they gave me and quickly discarded it away. But, I did use it once. Just once, and it's left it's mark. They want me to dance along to their little tune, but I know I can't. The more I fight, the louder it gets, until I can't hear anything anymore, even myself. But, the sirens are patient. They have all the time in the world to wait as they slowly chip away my sanity."

She looked me dead in the eyes, and continued, "I'll admit, I use the power a little occasionally. A little extra range here, a little more speed there, it happens. I'll also admit I don't have a very good sense of self. My country came first. I was forged from their collective will and effort, and therefore I am them. The song that plays in my head isn't mine. It isn't theirs, either. The sirens...they set my soul on fire. Do you know how that feels? I see all my comrades cubes, all their souls. They're all blue like the sea. Then I look at mine, and it's just the slightest bit black, like the endless space between the stars that the sirens came from. I feel scorched. I feel tainted. I feel like I don't belong."

Bismarck seemed a little stunned with her own divulgence and was quiet. I was thrown off guard as well. My defensive posture suddenly dropped. "You're scared, aren't you? Scared of them, scared of yourself, scared one day they'll stop playing and really kill us all."

I continued, "I don't have a cube. Nope, nothing like that. Just this fragile and sometimes gross bag of flesh. I mean, you have that too, but you've also the traits of an entire warship. Only way you die is if somebody decides to not put you back together one day. When I die, that's it, and it's not that hard to do. I don't have any guns, either. Well, I have my issued sidearm, but I might as well be throwing wood chips at a brick wall. No armor except for this piece of overpriced cloth. Look, there's nobody who can make you belong anywhere except yourself. However, I am the only person right now who can give you an opportunity. I won't help you. All I'm doing is handing out an invitation to the metaphorical party. They all will respect that piece of paper, but it'll be your job to have them respect the person holding that paper."

Bismarck's eyes gazed at my face, analyzing my expression. I continued, "I'd be sticking my neck out for you. In exchange, all I want is for you to give Azur Lane a chance. If nothing else, the enemy of your enemy is a friend. How about that?"

She said, "Fine. Give me a few minutes to contemplate."

I got up and went through the armored door. "Take your time. Let the guard know outside if you need anything."

I exited the room. Saint Louis, our first PR ship, stood vigilant guard outside. I glanced at her. She said, "I do not think this will end well. It feels like we are dealing with a mad devil we should have put down a long time ago."

I shrugged, "Mad she may be, but let's be honest, a lot of us in the fleet are. I really should do something about that sometime…"

She shifted her posture and the tip of her lance twisted along the cement floor. "She is someone who is constantly tempted to dance to their unholy tune. She may just be a bomb with an unknown fuse, or may even be one of their agents and not even know it."

"We need everyone we can get our hands on. I feel we would lose much more than we realize now if we let her go."

"By let her go, you mean remove her propellers, tow her offshore, and torpedo her?"

"Chill out. I know I'm gambling. I wouldn't have bet if I didn't think the odds were good."

I finished my foreshadowing flashback and found myself on Bismarck's main deck. Everything looked fine here and in the citadel, so I decided to check below.

I walked down the hatch from the main deck and down the hallway into the canteen. The manjuus certainly were busy. There was some damage here and there, but it all looked like the usual. I'd seen worse, far worse. The ships could maintain themselves with much less than this, but if that was so, then where was she?

Music started to play from the lower decks. It seemed one of the manjuu crews had a taste in orchestral compositions. I chuckled to myself, but then stopped when I realized the manjuus were gone. They'd left the room as fast as thought.

The music kept playing.

I assumed they were done with this room. I was a little confused, as they'd left an electrical panel open. In fact, I noticed they'd all left their tools lying about. Manjuus weren't the brightest things in the world, but they also weren't this careless. Was it lunch?

The music moved up a deck.

Where were they? There wasn't a lot of weight to the manjuus, so they didn't make much noise. They certainly didn't talk. I wondered why they left in such a hurry that they'd left their music on and tools on the ground?

The music moved to my deck.

I suddenly felt really uncomfortable. Something was wrong; I could feel it. My mind was instinctually watching the shadows and doorways. Something was approaching me, and my gut absolutely hated it.

The music came closer.

I shifted to the wall next the doorway where the tune was coming from. The source of my fear was undoubtedly this thing. Now, I could hear it much clearer. It was swift and marching as it moved. I almost thought I heard singing, but couldn't quite make out the words. It was like a sound that originated from a voice, but had been distorted beyond comprehension. My heart went into overdrive as I unquestioningly felt like I was being hunted.

The music was in the next room.

I felt nausea. This was not earthly. I knew the feeling of Bismarck's spirit, but this was something else just wearing her face. She was nowhere to be found. I quickly realized that the music was having an effect on me. It was like listening to a vapid fast food commercial jingle a hundred times in a row. The song ate away at my sanity and clarity of mind. I had trouble thinking of anything more complex than hiding or running away. I didn't dare plug my ears, but I knew if I listened to it for too long, I would go insane. The air crackled with some kind of dark energy, yet I felt a cold that originated from my bones. The music was supposed to be bright and cheerful; something to march to, yet I felt nothing but dread.

Then, something ungodly peeked into the room. It was invisible and formless, yet I could feel it stretch through the doorway. The entity of unrestrained horror, death, and madness scanned the room with it's nonexistent evil eyes, all behind a false smile. I saw nothing, but it also didn't see me.

The music turned around and retraced it's steps. I didn't even begin to ask myself what that was. I didn't dare breathe. I couldn't shut the door, so I thought to sneak toward the exit as stealthily as possible. The bubbly tune moved the opposite direction. I actually made it through the doorway and down the hall before I distracted myself. As I listened to the song against my will, I remembered the times Friedrich der Große would corner me and pretentiously monologue about music. I thought to myself, "Hey, that's not an entire song, just a part being repeated over and over. What was it again? It was the third movement. Oh right, a scherzo. Hey, why's that word familiar? Damn, Friedrich's really getting to me." In that brief moment, my shoe brushed up against a socket wrench, dragging it across the floor with a metal-on-metal noise.

The music had found what it was looking for.

I bolted. I could now hear the sound of a pair of heavy boots pursuing behind me. At some point, my hat fell off my head. Panic was the only thing keeping the distance between me and some horrorterror that(I assumed) wanted my soul. I stopped briefly at the flight upstairs to the main deck and saw it shut. There was no time to open the hatch, so I changed course and began a chase that drove me deeper belowdecks in the ship. As I turned, I saw it in the corner of my eye. It had no form, yet it scarred my eyes, like looking directly into a lightbulb. The music upped it's tempo, almost like it wanted me to run.

Eventually, it caught me in engine room #1, the heart of the ship. Again, I saw nothing, but that made it worse. I knew it was there, and it acted like a predator that had just cornered something delectable. Looking directly at it gave me a pain that I felt in the back of my eyeballs. I backed up against a diesel generator and raised my fists in futility. The thing somehow laughed musically. In a little trill, it struck.

Everything disappeared, and I saw it for what it truly was.

It hated everyone except for itself. It thought itself better. It was the cause of all the wickedness mankind could produce. It was the root of every crime, every death, and every atrocity. I saw gardens burned, cities in ruins, homesteads plundered, and people violated. I saw humanity in all it's twisted creativity enacting suffering upon itself, simply because it forgot it's victim was itself. It wanted it all, wholeheartedly believed it could take it, and did not care who it hurt along the way. It could turn ordinary people into psychopaths. It could corrupt the purest of saints. It could beat into submission the noblest of heroes. It could bring the fairest of all into agents of mindless hatred under it's control. It did not care for the means, only the ends, of which there were none. The few who even knew they suffered might ask it what needed to be under it's control and for how long. It would lie and say that it would only be a little and for a short time, but the true answer was everything and forever. It was how civilizations ended.

Then it came for me. It looked at who I was, what I was, and told me I was weak. I wasn't worthy of seeing what it could achieve. Nobody was. It tried to tear my soul apart and replace it with a mockery of one that it could easily puppet. It was an idea, and it was going to last much longer than my insignificant life. It always lived in the back of everyone's minds, and no amount of social change could remove it. It was unkillable, it was undefeatable, and all it needed to be right was to teach people who didn't know any better. It told me to let go and let it happen.

I felt myself being thrashed. It unleashed a battery of attacks that were so rapid, I wasn't fast enough to refute each one. It pierced my psyche and ripped at all my foundations, trying to uproot who I was. If I did not do something, if I did not stand up for myself, it would consume me and I would suffer a fate worse than death.

So, I stopped arguing, and started simply screaming. I was right, and I repeated this in my head. Even if I didn't truly believe I was right with all my actions, I still stood by my identity. Everything I'd done, I'd done because I thought it was the best option. Personal wealth and glory in my career had been stolen from me a long time ago. As I stewed in my office as everyone laughed at me because I'd gotten myself trapped in a career dead end back when they laughed at my aptitude with the "gimmick" wisdom cubes, I swore I'd be what they weren't. If I couldn't get fame, at least I'd be true to myself. Many say there's the right way, the wrong way, and the navy way. That didn't matter. This little chunk of the navy's mine, and I'll run it my way, regardless of who laughs.

I was right.

The beast said that was subjective.

I knew I was right.

The beast said nobody else believed me, my accomplishments a single drop in a bucket.

Then I would be right alone.

The beast said I wouldn't feel so right when a mob of brownshirts beat me within an inch of my life.

I was still right. If I had to be beat, then that just proves they were wrong. Then, I switched my stance again. I told it that it was wrong.

It did not care.

I vowed to make it care.

I showed it my perspective, the true people's perspective, and not some twisted manipulation of the "folk", as it referred to them. In the end, they just wanted to live their lives in satisfaction and peace. Everyone thinks they live in the greatest of times, but in reality, the only constant is the average person trying to make a decent living. They just want the opportunity to have meaning in their life, not some unsustainable bitterness that ravages entire nations and eventually burns itself out, causing just as much pain to the people who started it all. In the end, that's all what it really was: Pain and entitlement.

I screamed in a combination of terror and anger. I don't know if it was all just in my head. Our wills both clashed against each other. It had nothing to lose, but I had everything. My vision failed. The thing threatened to rend my soul from my flesh.

Then, I felt someone else. I felt a friend. My courage hadn't convinced the beast, but it had inspired another. Three spirits all vied for control inside Bismarck: The one she was, the one she was expected to be, and the one she thought she wanted to be. I didn't have the time to be picky, so I chose the one I felt best.

The ship wailed, it's echoes reverberated throughout the metal and inside my skull. The steel itself screamed in agony. The engine instruments and gauges made an unhealthy electrical hum and every alarm went off at maximum volume. I suddenly felt that if nobody won here, she would violently rip herself apart, and I and everyone around would die. So, I asked one last thing. I asked her to let go of the past. Who she was and what she did years ago didn't matter anymore. Today was the only thing I cared about. She was an excellent warrior, but she was also an excellent person. She was more than a tool, and an extension of nobody except herself. She'd never lost her humanity, and she'd earned it a long time ago.

With the beast's attention divided, I regained very little of my muscles. I then blindly shuffled forward and threw the sloppiest, weakest, most pathetic tackle I'd ever thrown in my life. I doubt it accomplished much. In retrospect, physically attacking her was probably a piss-poor decision. It struck something fleshy where there was previously nothing there. My arms felt bitter cold, as if I'd stuck it in a bucket of ice water. The chill went through me and then past me, as if something dissipated into the air. It travelled outwards, and made one last distant shriek as it disappeared; destroyed or banished, I did not know. The thing I struck tipped over and landed on the metal floor with a heavy *thump!".

With the demon exorcised, my panic left me, and my internal senses returned. My knees were weak, arms were heavy. I'd vomited on my shirt already. Smelled like spaghetti. I tasted blood in my mouth and could feel it running from my nose. My headache was so intense that I could barely think. All of my muscles had tensed themselves up so tight, they were all sore. In short, everything hurt. I got on my hands and knees, but then eventually just lied down. Next to me, I felt a warm presence. Past the ringing in my ears, I heard labored breathing next to me.

I choked out the words, "Is it… is it you?"

Silence at first. I wondered if she was dying. I wondered if I was dying. Eventually, I heard Bismarck's familiar voice say, "It's me."

"The right one?"

"The one that is right. The music in my head, it's not gone, but now I can play whatever I want."

"Good?"

"Yes, very good. No more screams and whispers. No more shame in my madness. I am who I am, and if a little of my soul is black, then so be it. I am tired."

I'd already passed out. Bismarck said, "I'm whole." She chuckled a little hysterically and said, "For once, all of me is going in the same direction." She exhaled and embraced the person who had finally, after a century, brought the song to it's crescendo and conclusion. "Your language doesn't have words to describe my thanks. ...It appears mine doesn't either."

And so, Bismarck's soul was at peace with all past obligations dropped, and new ones chosen of her own accord. She fell into a satisfied sleep alongside me, but not before activating an emergency beacon requesting medical help. In this past week, I'd learned to let go of others, but today she learned to let go of herself. With that, her little bit of character development came to a close, and the confidence she radiated redoubled.

Just because someone sees something nobody else does, doesn't mean they're mad. With folks like Shinano, and with Sakura's wisdom cube experimentations, I've come up with a little pet theory. I have no way of proving it right or wrong, but it's most likely the latter. I believe blue wisdom cubes are for ships made for the sea and black cubes are the stuff of ships for the stars.

There were no dreams for me, I slowly closed my eyes on a hard metal floor, and suddenly opened them again in a medical cot. I wore a simple gown and had an IV sticking out of my arm. There was some basic monitoring equipment set up. It also appeared somebody had returned my hat to my head at some point. Alone in the room, I called out. Nobody immediately answered, so I kept saying "Hello?" for a few minutes. Eventually, Vestal came through the door. She looked at my open eyes and said, "I knew you'd wake up soon."

I said, "He's back!"

Vestal chuckled, "That he is. How do you feel?"

"Like ass, but I don't feel much pain. How am I?"

Vestal sighed, "Well, no pain is certainly good. Overall, there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, however it seems your nervous system was the one that suffered the most in the attack. Again, I couldn't find any serious or permanent damage, but I don't have any equipment for a brain scan. I'd like to have one of those performed before I can consider you healthy again. I know it doesn't sound very professional, but something just scrambled you."

"How I like eggs." I coughed. "Where's-"

Vestal interrupted me. "She secluded herself. She refuses to interact with anyone."

"I want her here."

"Perhaps she needs time. You've only been out for a day."

"It's an order."

"Yes, commander. I'll fetch her."

Time passed, and then I saw a shadow in the doorway. The door opened slowly and without the usual intensity Bismarck put into her entrances. She looked awful. Her hair was disheveled, her uniform was sloppy and unbuttoned in places, and her boots were on the wrong feet. Her face looked irritated as if it'd been rubbed too much and her eyes were swollen. Her posture was the complete opposite of what it normally was. She hunched forward in misery and shame. All of her pride was gone. It nearly put me to tears looking at her.

She apprehensively stood in front of the doorway and let it close behind her. I smiled and waved. She slowly walked beside the bed and sat on the floor, making sure her head never rose higher than mine. I said, "Hi."

She didn't speak.

I commented, "You don't look that good."

She choked out, "I nearly killed you."

I quickly replied, "No, I nearly died. Big difference."

"Does it? If so, then why do I feel nothing but guilt?"

"Because that's just your nature and I haven't convinced you yet that you don't need to feel that stuff."

"But how? I'm responsible for so much. I brought so much evil into the world and on you. I embody something that just… consumes and causes suffering. I nearly did the same to you."

"Who made you and why doesn't define who you are. Hell, I could teach an entire course on that. If it did matter, you wouldn't be here right now. I think… I think endings are just as important as beginnings, and I feel you've never been given a proper conclusion in any of your lives. I really believe all of those incomplete and unsatisfying ends have stuck with you and never really got shaken off."

"...and I nearly ruined my once chance at a good end."

"Nearly doesn't mean you did. I mean, here I am to prove it. Besides, I think a lot was put to rest yesterday. How do you feel?"

"Like a court-marshall is too good for me."

"I mean how do you feel?"

"...No more voices. Only my own. The music still plays, but it is mine. Nobody else's."

"What do you want? Forgiveness?"

"I want nothing, but to answer for my actions. I attacked a superior officer, I attacked an ally, I attacked… you."

"You'll answer when you do something wrong. For now, this is something that needed to happen, and I think we got lucky with how it played out. I'm not you, but I feel like we removed a lot from your shoulders."

"No...please…"

I thought for some time. Bismarck, usually the one with her head held high, knelt beside my bed. Again, I felt horrible pain seeing her bring herself so low like this. Pride may be a vice, but I felt she deserved at least a little. Now, this was just excruciating to witness.

After a long time of silence, I said, "Two things."

Bismarck did not move.

"From what I saw, all of you performed admirably in the harbor's defense. We will rebuild stronger than we were, but you guys can't rely on me."

Bismarck's head looked up at me.

"I want all of you to be just as good whether I'm here or not. It used to be that the person under me was my secretary. That's gotta change. We're going to need some people right under me who can take control if I'm gone. You're a pretty damn good leader, so I want you to be the first of those people."

"You… you would give me a responsibility?"

"Don't think it's going to be easy. I might suddenly decide to leave things to you and your fellows in rank, and I expect the transition to be flawless. Your first duty is to clean up this island. I want it to look like I left it. As for the second…"

"What?"

"I heard you can make brownies. Would you mind making some? We can share them, if you like."

Bismarck sniffled. "I can try. Can I ask something?"

"What?"

"May I lay with you? The bed may be small, but I just need to hold someone for a while."

I forgot, Bismarck is the one that holds, not the other way around. I said, "Just lay?"

"Just lay."

"Sure. I'll try to make room."