Chapter Thirty-Eight
Warships were not meant to fly, and yet when given enough motivation, even I was to launch across the room so fast one could have mistaken me for a reisen.
Firing battleship-calibre artillery in an enclosed space was borderline insanity, but we had long since passed the point of questioning Mutsu's mental stability. The entire room became flooded with gunsmoke and shrapnel, forcing most everyone to duck for cover. I was the exception, though, as I had instead flung myself across the room and tackled Choshu to the ground, just narrowly avoiding her sister's incoming salvo. Instead of turning her into a red mist, the shots instead struck the back wall, blasting a hole clear through the adjacent room, as well as sending fragments and splinters in every direction. Every computer server and terminal that hadn't been knocked over in the fighting earlier was struck down by flying debris, leaving Mutsu as the only thing taller than a metre still standing.
"Are you okay, Choshu?" I asked between coughs, the fumes scratching at my eyes and throat.
"No, but I'm still alive, at least," she answered, still pinned beneath me. She promptly pushed me aside and sat up to a chorus of coughs and groans. "What were you thinking? You could've been killed!"
"I would not be a very good sister if I had stood by and did nothing," I replied.
"What would you know about being her sister?" Mutsu's voice echoed through the haze, just to remind us that we were still in grave danger. A silhouette lurched forward with heavy, erratic steps, hate and malice dripping from every word. "You weren't there for it all: every fateful decision, every moment of doubt, every rallying speech, every long night watching the horizon, waiting for kansens to return… only to be met with silence. I was the one by her side back then, not you!"
"And you would raise your weapons against her?" I said before moving to put myself between Mutso and Choshu. "Are you really prepared to kill your own sister?"
"It's… it's fine. She's just confused… naive… the poor girl has always led with her heart and not her head," Mutsu said. As Akagi once described, everybody had a point where desperation met the final precipice between what they wanted, and the line they vowed to never cross. As Mutsu's face, once twisted in hate and rage, cracked into a wide, delusional grin, I realized that she had not just crossed that line, but took a running leap beyond it. "She just doesn't understand what I'm doing. That's fine. It's fine. It's all fine. I can still fix this. Once I kill her and bring her back with the Wishing Well, she'll understand what I've done for her. Then nothing will be able to stand between us…"
Her entire main battery then took aim at us.
"I do believe your sister has taken leave of her senses," I said to Choshu.
"I think you mean to say, 'gone crazy'?" she replied.
"I was trying to be polite."
"To the person who's about to shoot us?"
I saw no reason why imminent death should stand in the way of poor manners, but I also had faith that the distraction we were providing would give our cohorts time to mount an intervention. I had hoped for Akagi or maybe Enterprise to be the one to act–even Unicorn would not have been unwelcomed–so I was very surprised to see that it was Captain DeWolf who first went for his weapon.
"Lower your weapon and step away from the Nagatos," the captain ordered. He now stood behind Mutsu with his shotgun in hand and leveled squarely at Mutsu's head. It wasn't the dramatic rescue any of us expected, which was why we all just stared in stunned silence at the sight of the captain who, while looking rather dashing in his defiance, did not come across as very imposing.
There was, however, an upside to his brazenness, for how could someone adequately prepare for something so unexpected. Mutsu was just as dumbfounded as the rest of us as she stared at the barrel aimed at her. Confusion quickly turned to amusement, and she just snorted and chortled.
"Are… are you serious?" she said with a barely restrained laugh. "Are you really threatening me with that?" She soon fell into full-blown, derisive laughter. "You couldn't scratch the paint on my hull with that thing. I could vaporize you in a heartbeat, and your response is to threaten me with a popgun?"
"Those are my people, and I promised to bring them all home," Captain DeWolf replied. How he was not sweating bullets was a mystery to me. His gun wasn't even trembling. "Now don't make me ask twice."
The only thing that stopped, however, was the contempful laughter. "You could have called upon any one of your kansens while I was distracted," she said. "Even though you have absolutely no chance whatsoever, you can't trust anyone but yourself to be the hero. Such arrogance and hubris… how so typical of a westerner." Not one to be outdone in terms of arrogance, Mutsu suddenly whisked away her rigging and posed with awaiting, outstretched arms in front of his gun. "Go ahead then, Mr. DeWolf. Show me what you can do. Show how you expect to stop me from butchering every last one of you. Do it! Shoot me!"
Let it never be said that Captain DeWolf did not wait for a woman's consent before acting, as he unleashed the shotgun full-force into her face. However, rather than a blast of smoke and pellets, there was instead a burst of a fine, white powder in Mutsu's face. Not one to waste an opportunity, DeWolf fired a second salvo, and then once more for good measure.
We all expected the assault to do nothing, for Mutsu to simply respond with another round of mocking laughter. To everyone's surprise, but especially Mutsu's, she recoiled back with a terrifying howl. "Argh! My eyes!" She stumbled back a few steps, clutching and screaming as though her head had just ignited. "Motherfu–I'll kill you! Argh! What did you do to me?" As she still had her naginata in hand, she took a wild swing at where DeWolf had been, but he had enough foresight to know to be elsewhere once Mutsu had been blinded.
"Grab what you can and run," Captain DeWolf ordered.
We wasted no time in heeding his instructions. I helped Choshu back to her feet, while Enterprise and Akagi helped the wounded King George V up. The rest grabbed what items they could, and we all hurried out the nearest door as if being chased by the divine winds themselves. The captain stayed back to ensure he was the last to leave, firing a few parting shots at Mutsu before taking his leave, making sure to seal the bulkhead door behind him.
"What did you shoot her with?" I asked the captain as I fell into step alongside him.
"Pepper round," he answered. "Basically a shot filled with capsaicin. Studies have shown kansens have some vulnerability to chemical irritants."
"Will that be enough to stop her?"
"I said 'some' vulnerability. All I've done is slow her down a little bit, and piss her off a whole lot."
At that point, I wasn't sure where exactly we were going or who was even leading our column. All I could do was follow the person ahead of me until we eventually ended up in what appeared to be a loading dock. Half of the room was filled with storage boxes and containers, some opened, some spilled, and some still beneath dust-coated tarps, while the other half of the room consisted of a half-drained pool next to a sealed bay door. For a second, I thought that we could open the loading bay doors and escape that way, but even if we got off the Ark, we were still in the middle of a mirror sea and likely surrounded by overwhelming numbers of Siren warships.
Plus, we still had unfinished business aboard the Ark.
Right now, our main concern was King George V, who was deposited up against an old crate and given space so that Akashi and Captain DeWolf could assess the extent of her injuries. Even from a cursory glance, I could tell she wasn't doing well: her breathing was laboured, her skin had grown pale and clammy, and there was an uncomfortable amount of blood now staining her uniform.
"How bad is it?" Captain DeWolf asked.
"Nyat good, sir," Akashi replied. "She's hurt real bad. The wound is deep, and I can't stop the bleeding with what we have. We need to get her to a proper sick bay."
"It's… it's fine, James. I'm just… a little knackered," George said through a sharp breath. "You… you have to finish the mission… don't worry about me. I'll just… slow you down…"
DeWolf's response was an all-too-expected, "Like hell I will." He was already in the midst of unpacking a pressure bandage from a first aid kit that hung from his harness. "I said I was bringing everybody home, and that includes you."
As he tried to apply the dressing, though, King George V grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him in. Despite her state, there was a surprising amount of fire still in her gaze. "We… had a deal. If… if I couldn't stop her… then you would do what's needed… to protect the fleet."
"Which includes you!" the captain snapped back.
Even in such a weakened state, George was able to keep her grip on him, preventing him from applying the bandage. "You… have a duty to this fleet, to humanity. Wishing Well… was supposed to save us… I will not… have that smug lil' bint… turn Vicky's work… into a weapon against us. I… won't allow it!"
The two struggled for a moment, which I had no doubt was only making George's injury worse, not to mention it was getting blood all over the captain's hands and uniform. I wanted to intervene, but I found myself thinking, if I were in her position right now, I would be making the exact same demand.
Suddenly, Choshu stepped forward. "Excuse me, sir, but I have an idea," she spoke up. "The Ark has an infirmary. It's a small one, but I remember seeing it when my sister was showing me around."
In an instant, the captain's eyes lit up as he shot to his feet. "Of course, the infirmary! I completely forgot about that," he exclaimed. "If all the rest of this stuff is here, then it should still be stocked. We can just–" The elation in his expression dropped away as he turned his head back towards the way we came. The door was still sealed shut, but I could infer from his look of forlorn hope which way the infirmary was.
"...shit," he muttered under his breath.
"Sir, if I may," Choshu said. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but… let me help. I know my way around here well enough. Let me take King George V and Kawakaze back to the infirmary, while you and the others carry out the rest of your mission."
A few of us exchanged wary glances. I was willing to give Choshu the greatest benefit of the doubt, but even I had reservations about her suggestion. I wanted to believe she was honest, and every fibre of my being wanted her to be, I still couldn't shake the feeling that this was still a risky plan. Did she know her way well enough? What if she ran into Mutsu? What if George's condition worsened while en route? Could she and Akashi even carry someone as tall as King George V?
However, I was not the one making the call.
"Do it," Captain DeWolf said with barely a moment of hesitation. "Akashi, go with her."
If anyone had objections to the plan, there was no time to discuss them, as a loud crash came from the nearby bulkhead door, followed by the distinct and unsettling groan of buckling steel.
"Go, we'll draw her away!" Captain DeWolf shouted.
He, Akagi, and Enterprise wasted no time in rushing out to meet the threat head on. Mutsu had torn the bulkhead door from its hinges, and used it as a shield to block the initial salvos. She charged through the shower of sparks and flames, and then hurled the steel slab at the captain. DeWolf was right; she had to be quite angry if she was willing to risk killing him in her rage. Or perhaps she anticipated that one of us would always be willing to protect him even at our own expense.
"Watch out!" Enterprise said as she threw herself in front of him. She took the brunt of the impact, but the slab still toppled them both over.
"I am going to drown you in the depths of the ocean, DeWolf!" Mutsu bellowed. I couldn't tell if her face was red from the pepper shots or her unbridled rage, but either way, we had her undivided attention. Her fixation worked in our favour, too, as a flurry of Akagi's talismans caught her in the side, each bursting in bright red flames.
"Sorry, Mutsu, but I saw him first," Akagi said before she loosed another flurry. This time, though, her attacks struck against armoured rigging, which created wonderful pyrotechnics but little in terms of damage.
"You sneaky little–!"
The response was interrupted as Akagi continued a relentless barrage. "All's fair in love and war," she continued teasing.
The next talismans didn't attack Mutsu head on, but instead began to swarm around her like a cloud of buzzing gnats. Overcome with rage, her naginata swung about in wild, reckless arcs. A few times, her efforts were rewarded with a bright flash and a bloom of bursting flames as she struck the aeroplane effigies down, but most managed to stay just outside of her reach. They buzzed and swooped, dipping and diving in a never-ending taunt, all the while Akagi's cackle filled the air.
"Enough of this!" Mutsu's patience reached its breaking point, and her concern for collateral damage fell further to the wayside as she began firing as wildly as she swung. Wayward shells began to strike the walls and ceilings, explosions ringing out as the room buckled and shuddered in response.
The room fell into chaos as many of us dove for cover where we could. Akagi tried to hold her ground, but as several crates were flung about by the explosions, one struck her from behind. It wasn't a serious hit, but it broke her concentration for a moment and the careful coordination of harassing passes from her talismans became disrupted. Cohesion lost, they scattered about like leaves on the wind, and through the opening created, Mutsu crammed every cannon shell she could through it. Nearly half of the loading bay was engulfed in fire and explosions, which left most of us diving for cover. I, myself, had to use a crate that had fallen from its pile to take shelter behind just as a wall panel, given new purpose and motivation from a nearby high explosive round, came far too close to taking my head clean off. Somewhere in the chaos, though, Akagi was hit, as I saw her get flung from the smoke clouds and into the nearby wall.
Without their source of control, the planes began to vanish one by one, leaving nothing between Mutsu and Akagi.
"I always hated you carriers…" Mutsu growled as she straightened herself up. Despite the harassment, there were little more than a few scorch marks and dents in her rigging. "We battleships were the rulers of the seas, but then you had to go and make the Kido Butai the sword of the empire."
With a grunt and a groan, Akagi pushed herself back up to her knees. Though covered in scraps and soot, she still managed that same arrogant smirk of hers. "Jealousy does not become you, dear," she replied. "I'm sure your Akagi acted out of a sense of duty as much as I do."
"Duty doesn't mean a damn thing when you lose!" Mutsu snapped. "You convinced everyone to put all their hopes for honour and glory on you. You promised us victory. And then you screwed up Pearl Harbor. You screwed up Midway. You. Screwed. Up. Everything!" She fired another shot, but intentionally aimed short so that Akagi was just thrown about some more rather than outright killed. "That's why you can't stop me, Akagi; you're a failure. Always have, always will be. You fail your friends, your sister, your empire, and even the Sirens. A few shining moments of glory, and a mile-long epitaph of failures."
A bit more winded, Akagi had to sit up against the wall just to stay even partially upright. "Trust me, I don't need you to remind me of the many ways I have failed all of those I care about," she said through heavy breaths. "And if I were your Akagi, I would tell you that I never meant to hurt you, or anyone else. Nobody plans to be a failure, Mutsu… but that man that you're so hellbent on tearing apart; you know what he taught me?"
"What's that?"
Akagi smiled, more serenely now. "That failing doesn't make you a failure. It turns out, once you learn how to forgive yourself, you realize there are things more important than honour and glory: like love… friendships… the bonds we have to one another. Those are the things that are more precious in life than any glory found on the battlefield."
"And where have those things gotten you now? How is love and friendship going to save you?"
The answer to her question came in the unexpected form of a wrench hurtling through the air. It struck the back of her head with a loud clang, knocking her helmet askew over her eyes. Confused as to who could still be opposing her, she swung her increasingly irate gaze about and found Akashi, of all people, standing before her.
"Y… y-you leave her alone!" an understandably panic-stricken Akashi called out. Under the battleship's fiery gaze, though, her ears, and nerves, soon flattened.
"I'm going to enjoy gutting you."
"N-nyow w-wait a s-s-second… I-I'm just a s-simple merchant. M-maybe I c-could interest you in a deal?"
Rage was always a double-edged sword; it could focus your purpose, renew vigour, and grant a person strength normally thought beyond their limits. Even the gentlest and meekest of kansens could become a furious whirlwind with the right trigger. The key to rage, though, was to always be able to keep it under control; to master one's emotions so that they do not take control over you. Thus, while Mutsu's growing rage made her all the more dangerous, as she loomed over Akashi with her naginata held high, her anger had left her completely oblivious to the real threat. There was only a brief window of a few seconds where she undoubtedly wondered to herself why it sounded like there was a plane engine inside the loading bay. A full-sized swordfish biplane crashed into her at full-speed, sending fragments of wood and canvas flying in all directions as the wreckage skidded across the landing, slammed into a pile of crates, and then careened into the docking pool.
A stunned silence fell across the room as everyone turned to Unicorn, now equipped with her rigging and standing off to the side in a small clearing. There may not have been enough room in the loading bay to launch full squadrons, but clearly there had been enough room to launch a single plane, so long as one didn't care that its flight time was brief.
Now as spectacular as the crash had been, I had my doubts that a single plane could stop a battleship for long, especially one as relatively lightweight as a biplane. Unicorn hurried over to help Akagi back to her feet.
"Are you okay? I-I'm sorry I didn't act sooner," she said as she used her rigging to help provide support to her fellow carrier.
"You acted just when you needed to," a winded Akagi reassured her. "Bold. Decisive. And you took her completely by surprise. Never thought I would see a kamikaze attack from a Royalist. Excellent work, child." She then reached over and patted her pupil a few times upon her head.
Unicorn blushed, beaming with pride from the praise. "T-thanks you. I just did what I thought you would've done."
"And were you afraid?"
"Um, a little. B-but I knew I couldn't let her hurt my friends."
"And that is all it takes. I am not fearless because I do not feel it, but because my sense of love is stronger," Akagi explained. "Speaking of which, is the captain all right?"
While Unicorn had gone to Akagi's aid, Akashi and I had instead rushed to check on the two still pinned under the bulkhead door, though no sooner had we arrived did the steel slab get pushed off to the side, and Enterprise emerged from beneath, scuffed but more inconvenienced than anything. She had an arm wrapped tight around the captain, holding him close in a protective embrace.
"Are either of you hurt?" I asked.
"We're fine," Enterprise said.
"Not to sound ungrateful, but could you let me go?" The captain's strangely muffled voice drew our collective attention downwards. While we were all relieved that she had protected him, there were some mixed feelings when I noticed that she had, in her haste to shield him, buried DeWolf's face right into her chest.
"I hadn't realized you could be so bold. Lucky E, indeed," Akagi observed.
Judging by how Enterprise froze on the spot, she hadn't realized it either. Seasoned professionalism crashed headlong into a maiden's instincts, leaving a fiery red flush in its wake. "T-that was not my intention," she hastily stammered out. "I was just trying to keep you safe."
Finally released, Captain DeWolf quickly pulled away. Although he was a bit flustered, too, he recomposed himself and took stock of the new situation. "Okay, we'll need to hurry because I doubt that swordfish will keep Mutsu down for very long," he said as he reloaded his shotgun. "Unicorn, take Akagi and go with Akashi."
"I can still fight, sir," Akagi protested.
"Which is why I want you to look after the injured and get yourself patched up. We might still have to fight our way out afterwards," DeWolf explained. He walked over and clasped a hand upon her shoulder, giving her a confident smile. "You've done enough for now. Leave the rest to me, okay? I'm going to go prep the explosives, and then we'll all meet up afterwards."
For someone as prideful as Akagi, I expected her to put up more of a fight, but instead she acquiesced with a simple nod. "Don't keep a girl waiting, understand?"
We gathered into our new respective teams, and while I had my concerns now that the team that would surely have Mutsu chasing after them now only consisted of both DeWolfs, Enterprise, and myself, I still felt confident about our odds. While a decisive blow had yet to be landed, our opponent had to be feeling the pressure by now. The situation was slipping out of her control, which compounded her frustrations and only made her more distracted, more prone to reckless gambits. Wounds and weariness had taken their toll on all of us, so before Mutsu could extricate herself from beneath a swordfish's underbelly, we parted ways with the others and headed towards the Ark's power core.
Dr. DeWolf took the lead, as apparently he knew his way around the Ark and it let the captain stay closer to the rear guard where his shotgun and pepper rounds could do a bit more good. As we hurried through more corridors, I could hear Mutsu's rampage closing in behind us. Her patience had long since run out as any obstacles we left behind us, including closed doors, were being obliterated. I dared not look behind, but the growing echoes of explosions and rending steel were enough to gauge how quickly she was gaining ground.
Somewhere along the line, the exact point I failed to notice due to more life-threatening concerns, the surroundings changed from the rusted and worn panels and dimmed fluorescent tubes to clean and polished black slabs and a red-tinted ambient light that seemed to permeate from all around. We were no longer in the Royal Navy-built portion of the Ark and were now in the Siren facility itself. Were we not running for our lives, it would have been a golden opportunity to study Siren technology in closer detail, but the best I could manage were passing glances at the architecture. It was all as angular and obsidian as their warships, which was to be expected. Only the occasional Royalist-installed signpost offered a splash of colour to break the monotony, which also reaffirmed our current route to the facility's main power generator. As we reached the next intersection, the unmistakable roar of cannonfire rang out. The round came so close as it screamed past us, the wind force alone threatened to upend my skirt, although my modesty had rapidly become the least of my concerns. With how tight the corridors were, it was nothing short of a miracle that she hadn't hit any of us, and it became imperative we not give her another opportunity.
Enterprise was the last of us to round the corner, and while the rest of us continued on, she lingered at the juncture. "Keep going!" she shouted. "I'll try to slow her down."
With her bow drawn and readied, she kept her aim steady as she backed away from the juncture, one careful step at a time. Her rear guard became all the more important when the corridor ended at a sealed door. The problem became two-folded: for starters, it wasn't a door of Royal Navy construction, but one native to the Siren facility. It looked heavy enough to withstand punishment from any of the ordinance we had available. King George V might've been able to force her way through, but without her, Dr. DeWolf had to try his hand at using the control panel next to it. The other, and far more pressing problem, was if Mutsu fired a shot down this corridor, she wouldn't need to hit anyone to kill everybody. A missed shot would just hit the door and send all the blast and shrapnel back in our faces.
"What's the hold-up?" Captain DeWolf asked, taking a defensive position behind a slight outcropping in the wall.
Dr. DeWolf was already hunched over the control panel, pressing away at the keys. "The controls aren't responding!"
"Why not?"
"Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not an electrical engineer!"
The control panel would suddenly flicker to life, but rather than any sign of the door opening, instead a small, but familiar, visage appeared on the panel's display screen. "The damage sustained to the primary computer core during the previous engagement has disrupted connection to the external door controls. I am attempting to create a bypass around the affected subsystems."
Her voice at least confirmed it was her, but the captain did not look pleased to hear the report. "TB, what are you still doing in there?" he replied. "I told you to move yourself to an external drive for transport."
"Apologies, sir, but given the deteriorating situation, I concluded it prudent to remain where I was so that control was retained over Ark functions."
Time for debating grew short as a flicker of movement at the far end of the corridor prompted Enterprise to send a warning arrow downrange. It missed, but it did at least force Mutsu to take cover, buying us some more time.
"Just get the door open. There should be a terminal in the power core we can transfer you out of afterwards," Captain DeWolf said.
Realizing time was running short, Mutsu threw caution to the wind and surged around the corner and snapped off a quick shot. Again, because we were bottled-up at the end of the corridor, there was little need for accuracy as it just needed to land in the general vicinity, and the narrow passage would be turned into a blender of fire and shrapnel. Enterprise, though, continued to live up her reputation, as she greeted Mutsu's advance with a shot of her own. Incredibly, she shot the incoming shell right out of the air. Though this saved the rest of us, it did mean that same shell now detonated only a scant few metres from her. What might have been a manageable blast was focused by the corridor into a fiery freight train, which threw Enterprise down the hall like a rag dag caught in a hurricane. She bounced and skipped a couple times before eventually sliding to a halt just a few metres away.
"Nagato, get her. I'll cover you," Captain DeWolf instructed as he leveled his shotgun downrange.
The corridor was too flooded with smoke and haze to know for certain how Mutsu fared, but I had to presume she couldn't have escaped unscathed. I hurried to Enterprise's side and dragged her back to the others while keeping one eye on the smoke cloud ahead. There was no sign of our pursuer, but that didn't mean we could breathe easy.
Captain DeWolf kept switching his attention between the door and the corridor, a faint quivering rising in his trigger hand. "TB, we could really use some good news right about now," he said with growing anxiety.
"Bypass is almost complete," TB reported. A heavy groan of sliding metal from behind the wall signaled success. "Bypass complete. Please proceed through the blast doors, sir."
"You heard the lady, everyone inside!"
At his beckoning, we all scrambled inside even before the door had finished opening. Unsurprisingly, Captain DeWolf was the last through, having kept watch until Enterprise had been dragged across the precipice. As he followed me in, he cast one last look and he must have seen something because he then suddenly tackled me to the ground with a shout of 'get down!'
Another shot ripped through the air where we had once stood. Missing us, though, meant it slammed into the far wall at the opposite end of the room, creating another catastrophic explosion that flooded the room in smoke and sent debris in all directions. A few moments later, the blast doors fully closed, and we were finally afforded a moment of safety. I still couldn't relax, though, and not just because of the now blaring sirens in the haze-filled chamber, but also because I found myself pinned beneath the captain.
It might have just been the adrenaline, or perhaps the way he loomed over me just a few inches shy of my face, but my heart seemed ready to jump out of my chest and all of my thoughts turned to him. For a kansen to throw themselves into harm's way to protect their commander was something to be expected, but for him to risk his life for one of us? Captain DeWolf was just a human, after all; a single stray shell could end his life in a heartbeat. Hell, even a wayward splinter in the wrong place could be lethal. There were plenty of kansens who would call him a fool for acting so recklessly. Why would he take such a risk just for me?
No, it wasn't just for me. DeWolf would have done the same for any one of us. That was just the kind of person he was: a selfless, foolish man…
"Come on, Nagato; on your feet," DeWolf said, snapping my attention back to the present. He didn't wait for a response, and instead got back up and then hoisted me to my feet. At least one of us wasn't getting distracted. "Get Enterprise someplace safe while I see to the power core."
A dazed Enterprise was still on the floor, so I quickly dragged her someplace where she would hopefully not be injured by any further wayward shots. "Miss Enterprise, can you hear me?" I asked once I had propped my colleague up against the wall. The explosion had left her a bit singed and covered in cuts from the shrapnel, but her injuries did not appear serious at a glance.
"Just… had the wind knocked out of me," she said through a strained groan. "A couple of minutes to catch my breath, and I'll be good to fight again." I had no doubt she was just putting up the same prideful facade that Akagi had before we all split up, but I wasn't going to fight her on it. "Go check on the captain. He'll need help more than me."
I was uncertain of what help I could be, but I nonetheless went along with the suggestion. The power core was a massive, sprawling chamber with thick conduits that ran across every surface towards the centre of the room, where what appeared to be a massive wisdom cube was suspended within a glass chamber. There was a pulsing, audible hum from it, and for a moment I found myself fixated on the shimmering aura that permeated from it. It was hard to imagine the Sirens making something that held such a strange beauty in its own right. Surrounding the suspended cube were numerous terminals, some of Siren origin, others clearly installed by the scientists who previously occupied the facility. Both DeWolfs were busy at work, pacing between terminals and assessing the damage caused by Mutsu's wayward shell. Her shot didn't land near the core, but the blast had torn up a few terminals and toppled over several others, not to mention one of the aforementioned conduits had been severed completely and dangled from the ceiling like a loose piece of party decor.
"Joe, you prep the core, I'll set up the explosives," Captain DeWolf said as he set down the bomb-ladened bag next to one of the terminals.
As I lacked much training when it came to using high explosives, at least the forms that aren't shot forth from a cannon, I opted to give the captain the space he needed to work. However, I was even less familiar with the concepts of whatever technosorcery was used to power the Siren facility, so I wasn't of much help to the other DeWolf either. Joseph wasn't having much success, though, judging by how he stared at the terminal as though it had just insulted his ancestors. Everybody else had already given so much for this mission while I was just standing on the sidelines being about as useful as lead boots. I did, however, know somebody who could be of use.
"TB, are you still here?" I called out.
A nearby terminal suddenly flickered to life, with a familiar stoic visage now visible. "I am here, Miss Nagato. Is there something you require?" she asked. Her appearance wasn't as surprising as the fact that she appeared in a Siren terminal. She had to be quite the advanced program to be able to infiltrate their technology so effortlessly.
"What is the status of the power core?" I said.
"There has been significant damage to the primary distribution controls, secondary coolant system, primary sensor array, and primary and secondary power coupling controls."
Those were… words. Some of which I could even recognize.
"That is bad, correct?" I asked, feeling like a neanderthal surrounded by geniuses.
"Yes, because it means the entire power core is locked down under a half-dozen fail-safes," Joseph answered before clenching his fist and giving his terminal a few unceremonious thumps. "If we try to demolish the core as it is, all it will do is cut power to the facility. Inconvenient, yes, but hardly crippling."
"The fail-safes are designed to prevent deliberate sabotage," TB reminded him.
"Is there anything you could do to help him?" I asked.
Before she could answer, though, there came a sudden and loud clang from the blast door. For a second, I thought the whole room shook from the impact alone, as though all the rage of the seven seas had just thrown themselves against us. Everyone stopped and held their breath to see if there would be a second, or perhaps an explosion from Mutsu turning her cannons against it. The door screamed out a second time, even louder than the first. We all exchanged nervous glances.
"TB, how secure is the door?" I inquired with growing apprehension.
"The blast doors of this section are designed to be able to contain a catastrophic destabilization of the power core, as well as prevent entry from kansen-level threats," TB reported, the calmness of her voice offering some reassurance. "To use her weapons within the facility would cause significant collateral damage to the surrounding facility. To breach the door without the use of conventional firepower would be extremely difficult, if not impossible."
The third impact was even louder than the last, accompanied by an unsettling groan of stressing bulkheads. What was even more worrying was the small, fist-sized bulge and crack that appeared in the centre of the blast door. If it was supposed to be impossible, somebody had forgotten to inform Mutsu of that fact. Whatever time we thought we had, it was clear that we had far less of it.
"TB, help with the core! Nagato, get over here!" Captain DeWolf barked. I hurried to his side, whereupon he immediately shoved some bricks of the explosive charges into my arms. "Take these, set them up around the base of the column, connecting each one together with the wires."
"Are you sure this is still wise? Will Mutsu not attempt to disarm the explosives once she breaches the door?" I asked, but still followed the captain's instructions. He had already done most of the work prepping the explosives, so it was just a simple task of finding a place to set them, then connecting the appropriate wires to the correct terminals. Even my rudimentary understanding of technology could follow directions that simple.
"If she wants to waste her time trying to defuse these, then we'll have all the time we need to regroup," DeWolf said. "But I'm willing to bet she's not skilled enough with bomb disposal to risk that. She'll be better off trying to capture us in order to force me to disarm them."
Either way, it kept the pressure on Mutsu to keep reacting rather than try to anticipate and counter our next move. With the furious knocking on the blast doors serving as a constant reminder of our dwindling time, I hurried to finish my task, and then returned to the captain's side. It appeared as though he had finished his part of the job, too, and now stared at the primary detonator, which had a digital clock reading ten minutes in blinking red numerals.
TB's image appeared on the nearby terminal. "Sir, I have been able to bypass the damaged control systems and have forced the core into a continuous recalibration cycle, allowing a temporary cessation of the fail-safe protocols. My program will need to remain in the core's control system to manually reset the cycle each time in order to prevent the fail-safes from re-engaging."
"Stay?" I replied. "But is it not dangerous for you to stay when the explosive goes off?"
"The destruction of this facility's core computer systems will result in the termination of my program," TB answered.
"Why do you sound okay with dying?" I knew it was in her program's nature to sound cold, but I was still stunned by her indifference to being killed. "Sir, we have to find another way."
I expected Captain DeWolf to immediately fall into agreement, but instead he remained silent as he continued to stare at the detonator's 'arm' button. "We can't let Mutsu have the Ark," he answered, sounding almost as artificial as TB.
"Please remember, Miss Nagato, that I am only a portion of a virtual intelligence," TB said. "My termination would not affect the intact program at naval headquarters. My assignment on the Ark is to provide any and all assistance to Cunningham and DeWolf. This task falls within that parameter. It is the logical course of action."
Despite her logic, her suggestion still sat wrong with me. Ignoring my better judgement in favour of reasonable arguments was how I wound up committing the Sakura Empire to Project Orochi. I wasn't about to make that same mistake twice: this was wrong, and I wasn't going to stay silent. The captain's finger had been hovering over the 'arm' button for several seconds, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him away.
"Sir, I cannot allow you to do this," I said as firmly as I could despite the rising trepidation inside me. I have had my disagreements with the captain before, but never had I actively disobeyed an order in the middle of an operation. Even King George V did not dare to cross that line despite her objections. A good leader and kansen was supposed to follow the orders of their commanding officer, after all.
I, however, was neither.
"Nagato, we were all in agreement about this," DeWolf said as he tried to pull his hand free.
"It is the logical choice," TB added.
"Well, I am no longer in agreement." I could have kept hold of him, but I decided to release his hand. I refused to solve this through force alone. "Sir, I may have never met your wife, but I have seen how everyone looks when they speak of her, and I have read her own words. She did not give her life to protect Project Wishing Well, she did so to protect its people. She would never condone sacrificing anyone, including TB."
"Ma'am, I am a virtual intelligence adjutant, not a person," TB reminded us.
"Whom Cunningham encouraged to practise singing," I countered. "She treated you like any other person, as did Captain DeWolf. And, if I am not mistaken, you said you were a separate partition from the full 'you' at naval headquarters, which means your memories and interactions with Cunningham are separate and distinct."
"Correct," TB said with a nod. "Due to the suddenness of the Siren's attack, I was unable to reintegrate myself with naval headquarters. The true me would recall surmised data of our interactions, but the discrete data points that comprise those events would be lost with my termination."
There was more jargon in her response than I would have normally been comfortable with, but I had to hope that it made more sense to DeWolf than it did to me. She said I was correct, so I just had to lead with that. I took the captain's hand again, less forcefully this time. More of an act to hold his attention than hold him back.
"Your wife believed in people, sir, and her memory perseveres through every life that she has touched."
In the captain's eyes, I could see the monsoon of conflicting emotions: every measure of doubt, fear, guilt, and grief, all of which had been left to haunt him ever since the loss of his wife. And like so many crippled by the pain of loss, he sought for something, anything, that he could do, as though it were an enemy he could outmanoeuvre and combat. Bold, decisive action had always been a hallmark of the Royal Navy, as well as most modern navies, but grief was not a threat to be fought or an enemy to be vanquished. It went against every lesson and instinct taught to him, there were other ways. He was, like so many others before him, simply scared: of the unknown, of the uncertainty.
"But what about Mutsu?" he murmured back. "If she gets a hold of Wishing Well–"
"Then we will find a way to stop her, and we will do so without having to sacrifice the things we care about." I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, but otherwise kept a loose grip, so that he wouldn't feel forced. The conflict in his expression was plain to see, but I watched him closely; every twitch and tension as he grappled with his guilt.
In the end, it all released in one, long sigh, as if he had been holding his breath for the last four years. "I've hated this place for so long," he said as his hand squeezed back. "Even without Mutsu, I wouldn't hesitate for a second to sink this whole damn place to the bottom of the ocean. But that's just me running away from reality like I always have, isn't it? I've run from my duty… my friends… my family… the people who trusted me, cared about me."
"This place only has as much power over you as you give it, sir. It is time to let go."
"But what if I'm not strong enough?," he replied. "I've only ever gotten as far as I have because of her."
"That is not true," I snapped back. "And I know this because I have watched you closely these last few weeks, sir, and you have accomplished a great many things in that short time. Even now, we are here, a whole fleet of kansens from across the world, because you asked us to. We have all chosen to follow Captain James DeWolf, not because of who you married or who you knew, but because of the man you have shown us to be." I added some emphasis with a few sharp pokes at his chest. If Amagi could see me now, she would surely applaud my lecturing. I didn't possess the same strength of will that she did, but I could understand why she had always felt comfortable leaving the fleet in my care. "And even after all of that, if you should stumble… I will be there to catch you."
Reassured, he smiled back, and then finally reached over and flicked off the detonator. "Okay then, no more compromising. We do this right, and we bring everyone home," he said with renewed determination.
It was just in time, too, as the blast door was reaching its limits. With a terrifying crash of shattering steel, Mutsu's fist breached the barrier.
"You are going to wish for death when I'm finished with you!" she howled through the opening. With an opening made, she grabbed the jagged edges and began prying the blast door apart, piece by piece. One could barely even recognize her as a kansen anymore. There was nothing but hate and rage, swirling like a maelstrom and threatening to consume everything in its path.
"Listen, I'm happy you're finally having that breakthrough," Dr. DeWolf spoke up, "but we're going to need a new plan, and we're running short on just about everything."
"Then we need the rest of our allies," Captain DeWolf said, nodding in agreement. "Joseph, do you remember where the control centre was for the facility's mirror sea generator?"
"You mean the room that we specifically had a sign on the door saying 'Joseph, do not play around with the mirror sea generator controls'?" he replied.
"Take Enterprise with you just in case you run into any trouble."
Though still winded, when the captain gestured for her, Enterprise rose to her feet without question. Ever the consummate soldier, one just needed to point her in the right direction. It wasn't until she escorted Dr. DeWolf out the blast doors at the far end of the room, I realized that it still left the question of what to do about Mutsu in the meantime. The fact that we hadn't left with them became increasingly worrisome.
"Um, does this mean that we will try to lead Mutsu away from the others?" I asked.
DeWolf shook his head before he dropped to one knee. "We have been running this operation with one arm tied behind our backs. Frankly, I shouldn't have waited so long to do this."
While I had my suspicions as to what he meant, the implications didn't find their mark until he reached for my inhibitor collar. This should have been a moment I yearned for, but instead of excitement, my throat only tightened up.
"W-wait!" I blurted out, swatting his hands away. "W-we cannot… I… the memories. They already happened when I fought with Choshu earlier. T-they were so real, I could not tell which reality was my own." I grabbed hold of the collar; not to break free, but instead shield it from him. As a kansen, fighting should have been second-nature to me, after my experiences with Choshu, the thought only filled me with trepidation. Realities were already blurring before, if I had access to my full power, then it could just be a repeat of my encounter with Enterprise. "I-it is too dangerous, sir. I cannot fight her in my state. I could… I could–"
I hadn't even noticed how much my hands were shaking until DeWolf gently took my hands in his. In a matter of seconds, I had now become the one being reassured.
"Please, sir," I murmured weakly. "I am… scared. If I lose myself again, I might hurt you."
"You won't. Keep your focus, stay in control."
"But what if I can't? What if I become like her?"
He eased my hands away from the collar, then cupped my face in his hands. "You are not Choshu, you hear me? You may both bear the same name, but you are your own person." He smiled at me, a thumb brushing against my cheek. Even with all the fear and adrenaline coursing through me, my heart began to ease, slowly but surely. "You are Nagato: you are kind, considerate, and selfless to a fault. People look to you for guidance and assurance, for your wisdom and compassion. Even when you don't feel like you're deserving of their admiration, you always strive to be the best you can for others. You do not seek out conflict, but you never hesitate to protect the people you cherish. You've taught people friendship… trust… compassion… forgiveness… and you've helped one sad, bitter man realize how much there is still to live for. Now I am asking you, not as your commanding officer, but from one person to another, to please fight the battles that I cannot. I know you can do this, and I'm not going to leave your side."
His words were far kinder than I thought I deserved. Over the last few weeks, I had routinely been anything but kind or compassionate. I bickered and fought with Choshu time and time again for petty reasons and undeserved jealousy, I allowed paranoia and doubt to nearly ruin a trusted friendship, and so many things I claimed were for the good of others had merely been for my own desires. Through words and deeds, I had tarnished my divinity as an oracle and shamed myself as a Sakuran.
And yet, I had never felt more at peace with myself than I did in that moment.
He accepted me. While I stood in fear and uncertainty of myself, he not only refused to budge, but embraced me: every selfish whim I foisted upon him; every time my attempts to be stoic and mature resulted in a bilge pump of half-baked thoughts and flustered ramblings; and every moment where I made a complete and utter fool of myself. So many failures that made me want to plunge headlong into the sea and never surface, he embraced all of me.
The fact that the blast door was still being pulled apart didn't even register to me. Serenity filled my thoughts, as though I were floating upon a calm, still ocean. No Ark, no irate Mutsu ready to eviscerate everything before her, no lingering doubts and fears, just myself… and DeWolf. My thoughts drifted to the first real conversation we had, back in the machine shop on board Akagi. Even then I had already begun to realize how sensitive a soul he was, silently mourning the loss of his crew. He was so stubborn, too. I still got flustered just thinking about how I had to hand feed him just to get him to eat something.
Back then, I saw a wounded man, and just wanted to help ease his pain.
It wasn't long, though, before circumstances reversed, and I found myself in need. When he first put the inhibitor collar on me, I feared my life as a kansen would be over. All I could do was put my trust in the captain that he would take care of me.
Looking back, I had no reason to trust me. We had only just recently met and in that brief period, he had seen up my skirt, torn off my robes, and I had put my lips upon his. Granted, they were all under extraordinary circumstances, and he probably didn't remember any of those occasions, but they were hardly the building blocks for a strong, working relationship. Yet, even after setbacks and embarrassing moments, our bond only grew stronger, and we went from being just two people at a naval base, to being commander and secretary ship. I got to watch him work up close: how he interacted with the other kansens, how he poured diligently over every report and project, and how much of himself he poured into the fleet. How many times had we worked late into the night in his office?
All the while, I stayed close, and helped him wherever I could. When his words could not reach others, I spoke in his stead, and I brokered with those that still held mistrust for him. Somewhere along the line, my respect for him turned to admiration, not just as an officer, but as a person. Soon after, I didn't want to help him just because it gave me purpose, but because I wanted to see his dreams come to fruition. I wanted to see his dream of a united kansen fleet, together.
Together…
We had talked… laughed… listened to one another's worries and woes.
Shared meals, hardships, setbacks, and success.
When I blacked out in the onsen, he stayed with me until I recovered. When he broke down speaking of his late wife, I stayed with him until his tears dried.
Those thoughts, those memories, they were mine and mine alone. They were not just simply given to me by the history of my namesake, but created through my own choices and efforts. Like the jars that DeWolf kept on his shelf, every moment that he and I shared had now become a precious part of me, its own little jar in the shelf of my heart. Nobody could take these from me, so long as I cherished them.
Though the collar's weight slipping from my neck was barely perceivable, the tidal surge of my wisdom cube's power rushing back into me was a liberation unlike anything I had ever felt. Like a sunken hull refloated, new life poured back into me. A shimmering, golden light flooded the room as my rigging returned to my side: from the plates of cemented steel protecting my form, to the pagoda mast towering proudly above me, to the shimenawa wrapped around each gun turret, carrying with them the blessings of the gods. The memories and thoughts I cherished shone like a lighthouse, casting away any doubt or uncertainty that might fog my purpose. It was almost overwhelming, as though everything was being focused into a single point.
I am me.
"I. Am. Nagato!"
Every ounce of doubt and fear poured into my barrels. There was a blinding flash and a deafening roar as my entire battery unloaded a divine retribution against Mutsu, as though possessed by the fury of the sun. By the time my eyes readjusted and the ringing in my ears ceased, the smoke had already begun to dissipate. The blast door hadn't so much as been destroyed by the salvo as it simply ceased to exist under the sheer force and heat. A chasm through the Ark had been carved out, the lingering edges of the walls and corridors still glowing white hot, leaving an ever-widening trail that rapidly opened up to the ocean outside. It was as though a hand had just carved out a massive chunk of the Ark.
I really hoped that nothing important had been in any of those rooms or corridors.
"Do you think that was enough?" DeWolf said, hands still clasped over his ears. "I don't see any sign of her."
I watched the horizon for any sign of movement, but all I could see was rain and raging ocean swells. However, there was no doubt in my mind that victory would not come this easy, not with a kansen harbouring so much hate. I may have blunted her fury, but hers was a rage that burned so intensely that the only victory laid with quenching the flames upon the high seas. Until then, she would fight with every ounce of strength she had. I would expect no less from a warrior of the Sakura Empire.
"Sir, please wait here until the fighting is over," I said as I approached the edge of the Ark's new bay window. "I shall return as soon as I am able."
"Be careful out there. There's an old saying about the danger of cornered foxes."
"I shall fight on, sir… now that I have found what it is I fight for."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
I stopped just at the edge, where the ocean's kiss beckoned me further, and gave the captain a simple smile. "A secret."
With that, I hopped off the ledge, and dropped the short distance to the ocean below. The storm had settled a little compared to when we arrived, but there was still significant wind, rain, and ocean swells as I steadied myself. The return of the ocean's embrace beneath my feet was a welcomed one, like putting on your favourite slippers after returning home from a long day's work.
My labours, though, were far from finished, and as I sailed away from the Ark and into the open seas, it did not take long for my adversary to find me.
"Nagato! You insufferable little brat!" Mutsu howled, sailing into view. She was in far worse condition than I had anticipated: almost the entirety of the starboard-side rigging had been blown away, leaving only traces of seared and jagged metal, along with a limp-hanging arm covered in cuts and burns. She regarded me with bloodshot eyes and a face so twisted in rage I could barely recognize her anymore. Were her chest a cannon, she would surely have shot her heart at me. "You… you think you've won? You think this is over?"
"I know I have won," I replied, standing off at a safe distance. "I am merely hopeful that you have enough sense remaining to recognize it for yourself."
"Ha… still hoping for peace, huh?" she scoffed, coughing up a small trickle of blood at the same time.
"I will never stop hoping for peace, but if you insist on continuing to provoke me, then I shall show you the folly of your choices. Do not test me, Mutsu; you will fail."
Mutsu still had one card left to play, in the form of the black wisdom cube she still clutched in her good hand. As she held it aloft, swirling pulses began to emanate from within it, twinkling like stars in an infinite void. As the lights intensified, massive red portals began to appear around her, and through them Siren warships emerged. First it was just a few, then several, and within moments there were scores of the jagged, obsidian vessels scarring the horizon.
"Do you truly believe a handful of Siren ships can stop me?" I asked.
"If I summon enough, even a Big Seven can be overwhelmed."
I scoffed. "If."
Seeing no reason to let her summon to her heart's content, I arranged my cannons into a wide arc and fired. Even the storm-swelled ocean yielded under the force of my cannons, each shot carving their way along and slicing through every warship they came across. The horizon ignited in an array of fiery blasts, huge swaths of the Siren fleet vanishing into plumes of smoke and debris. Mutsu, who had just been flanked by warships just a moment ago, was now surrounded by broken hulks, sinking slowly into the now oil-slickened seas.
"K… kill her!" she shouted, her voice drowned out in the torrent of cannonfire that immediately followed.
Shells crashed around me as I pushed ahead at flank speed. In the stormy weather, even the Sirens had trouble tracking me with any accuracy. Near-misses still shook me about, but for every shell that almost hit me, I fired one back that I made sure struck true. As I closed in on their battle lines, their secondary batteries began to open fire. The smaller-calibre munitions splashed against my armour like raindrops, and with just as little afterthought. Another volley from my main guns and the threats ahead were quickly reduced to more burning husks.
Between the storm and the ever-increasing number of Siren ships, I had lost sight of Mutsu, but I figured if I destroyed enough of her allies, she would show herself sooner or later. My immediate focus fell onto a flotilla of Siren destroyers sailing into a flanking position. One did not need to be a divine oracle to foresee what would be next. Riding the oceans swells, I could see the bubbling wakes of the oncoming torpedoes. I weaved through the first waves, with barely any effort. However, an ocean swell rose up before me to the point where the ocean almost towered over me, concealing the deadly payloads within until they burst out of the swell practically on top of me. This time, though, I did not just stare slack-jawed at the impending faceful of steel-plated pain. My secondary batteries snapped into firing positions and began peppering the air above me with shots, shredding them into pieces mid-air and leaving the only harm being a shower of metal scraps raining upon me.
With that threat disposed of, a few parting shots from my main batteries forced the destroyers into a retreat, or at least the ones that survived the blasts. As satisfying as it might've been to chase them down, several more shells into the waters around me forced my attention elsewhere.
Adjusting course, I sailed towards the source of the incoming fire, only to run into a curtain of artillery that soon began to churn the seas around me into a rolling boil. Off in the distance, I could see the new battle line forming as new Siren warships emerged from the ether, and in the centre of them all was Mutsu herself.
"You think you alone can stop me?" she bellowed, her voice barely audible over the thundering cannons around her. "Sooner or later, your fuel will run dry, and your magazines empty, but I have the power of the gods themselves! An endless sea of ships serve at my calling, enough to blacken the skies and the seas!"
"Such an impudent fool," I muttered to myself.
"Fool?" she shot back, both figuratively and literally with her surviving batteries. "You, who would make nice with our enemies, our oppressors? You would hand the keys to our empire for the sake of a fake peace. Who the hell gave you that right?"
The more they pushed back, though, the more determined I was to see this through. These Sirens would not stop me. I had to keep fighting, for the captain, and for the sake of all of my friends. Even bracing, the weight of the torrent of shells soon began to take their toll. My speed slowed… calm, controlled breaths became harried… calmness turned to pressure… and yet, I had never felt more alive. In the burning crucible of combat, where my fortitude and determination was finally being put to the test. Here, I could finally show that I was not just some doll to be venerated from afar, but a warrior worthy of being followed into combat. Not just to Mutsu, or Choshu, the captain, or my friends and allies, but to every doubt I ever harboured about myself.
This was more than just the decisive battle for the Ark, but for my very heart and soul as a kansen!
I growled through gritted teeth, the barrage growing so intense I was forced down to one knee. Every passing moment, the enemy vessels zeroed in their sights, their shots becoming more concentrated as they corrected their aim. It was as though the weight of all her rage and grief now fell upon my shoulders. Then, all of a sudden, the artillery fire ceased, so completely and utterly that, for a moment, I thought I had been deafened. The silence was real, though, and it gave me precious seconds to catch my breath. The damage wasn't serious, but even my armour could only last so long after such an intense barrage. Cracks and pockmarks now dotted my hull and armour, but it would hold… for now.
"I had always thought Akagi to be the arrogant one," Mutsu said. She, too, made use of the lull in battle to continue reinforcing her firing lines with fresh warships. "What hubris to think you could stand up against the might of the gods all alone."
I was half-tempted to make some sort of grand speech extolling the virtues of the alliance between the Azur Lane and Crimson Axis, of how peace at our port and living together had brought so many people together in ways never before possible, and how that while as kansens were made to fight, as humans we yearned to live and grow. I wanted to explain how while it was still important to protect my home and create a strong Sakura Empire, true peace came from a mutual understanding and connection with others. The empire could not survive simply as an island unto itself; it was part of a greater world that had to stand together against the existential threat of the Sirens. So long as Mutsu still saw the world in a black and white 'us versus them' mentality, trapped in a world of colonies and empires, rulers and the ruled, she would never find the happiness she sought. All she would ever accomplish is turning that wheel of pain and suffering once more.
I wanted to say all of that and more, but I was stopped when I heard a faint buzzing over the radio. Through the haze and static, faint words could be made out. My eyes soon turned skywards, and I realized that the storm had been subsiding, and the dark haze that had surrounded us for so long was looking a bit lighter now.
Realizing what this meant, I decided a speech wasn't necessary. I simply straightened up and stared down Mutsu.
"Who said I was alone?"
The approach could be heard well before she could be seen: the faint whispers of a hull cutting through the waves, followed soon thereafter by the appearance of Montpelier through the mist. As soon as she recognized my silhouette, she hastened her pace and soon arrived at my side.
"Miss Nagato! Thank goodness I finally found you," she said with a sigh of relief. "Feels like we've been sailing around in circles for hours, and–oh… you're not wearing your collar anymore."
"I am glad to see you as well, Miss Montpelier," I said, returning her greeting in kind. "It would appear that Dr. DeWolf was successful in deactivating the mirror sea. I am surprised you were able to find me so quickly."
"Once comms came back, Helena's radar was able to pinpoint your location," she explained while gesturing to the thinning fog behind her. "I pushed on ahead of the others because was I worr–er, I mean, be… because it was so important to link the fleets back up." Quick to focus attention elsewhere, she gestured to the massive Siren fleet ahead with Mutsu at the lead. "So is that what I think it is? That's Mutsu?"
"That is correct," I replied.
"Huh." Montpelier's somewhat glib response was punctuated with an indifferent shrug. "I pictured her shorter. Y'know, like your sister."
Personally, I had been grateful for that since it would've made it harder to fight her had she bore more of a resemblance to my own Mutsu. "I presume the rest of the fleet is close behind?" I asked.
With a confident smirk, Montpelier cast her gaze to the mist. "You tell me."
One by one, silhouettes began to appear through the fog, darkness taking familiar shapes, then solidifying into familiar faces as they emerged. First there was Admiral Hipper, then Hornet, then Myoukou and Ashigara, then Cleveland and the rest of her sisters. In less than a minute, it was just like the final engagement against Project Orochi with a whole battle line of kansens assembled alongside me, and Orochi was a far more formidable opponent than Mutsu was in her current state.
Admiral Hipper sailed up alongside me, taking a flanking position just opposite of Montpelier. "Hmph, I see you've made a fine mess of things in our absence," she said as she observed the enemy formation. "Is everyone okay, at least?"
"Most of us, but King George V has been severely wounded and is in need of immediate medical aid," I informed her. "Could you dispatch Vestal with an escort to the Ark? There is a large opening on one side that you can use to enter. You will find Captain DeWolf there, and he can provide further directions from there."
"I'll handle that myself–too important to leave to just anyone."
"Thank you, Miss Hipper."
"Huh? I'm just doing my job, nothing more." Though she scoffed at my gratitude, I felt it important to give anyways. I was certain that, as she left to find Vestal, a part of her was worried about her comrades just as any of us would be.
"So what's the low-down on the situation anyways?" Montpelier asked.
I saw no reason to bore her with the finer details of what had transpired since our separation. All of that could be saved for a debriefing, and it would save us from having to answer the same questions a dozen times over. Instead, I merely pointed over to Mutsu and her assembled fleet.
"You see all of those Siren warships over there?" I said.
"Yeah, I see 'em."
"Well, I do not wish to anymore."
An eager Monteplier cracked her knuckles in anticipation. "In that case, we're all ready when you are."
I took a moment to bask in the kansen fleet now assembled. Just like back at the final battle of Project Orochi, I felt an enormous well of pride at our accomplishment bringing so many kansens from all of the major factions together in the pursuit of a single purpose. While I had helped forge the initial alliance with the help and cooperation of Queen Elizabeth, this time around the credit was truly owed to Captain DeWolf alone. Orochi posed a terrible threat to the world, which made the proposal of an alliance all the simpler, but here, at the Ark, the fleet had assembled for much more conventional objectives, and while Wishing Well was a threat in its own right, the potential was nowhere near as immediately catastrophic as Orochi. Here, a fleet that spanned the world was assembled under the will and direction of one man. I was proud to have played a part in supporting him, and I couldn't ask for better friends to lead into battle.
"Kansens of the Azur Lane, of the Crimson Axis, of humanity… open fire!"
Upon my order, a new storm broke out around the Ark, a storm of fire and steel as the entire battle line surged forward under a thunderous fusilade. The opening salvos tore into the enemy line; cruisers and battleships erupted into flames, their hulls breaking apart like waves on the shoreline. In response, the Sirens fired in a wild, uncoordinated fashion, and were they human, I would say they had fallen into a panic. It was possible that Mutsu was overwhelmed by our combined force, and without her direction her Siren forces were equally at a loss. The reasons why were purely academic; all that mattered was that it left her wide open, and I sailed ahead at flank speed to take out the flagship in a final, decisive strike.
Ahead, the Siren screening forces moved to intercept my advance, but as they drew in closer, they were simply hammered into submission by multiple volleys from my allies. In particular, Montpelier kept close to my flank, using her five- and six-inch batteries to keep the enemy destroyers from closing in.
"Keep going, I've got you covered!" she shouted in encouragement.
The threats were not just from the sea, as flashes of movement from above drew my attention skyward. With the weather improved, more aircrafts were now on the field, and I noted a couple of strike squadrons on an approach vector for my position. I did have an Eagle Union cruiser as an escort though, and they were noted for brimming with anti-aircraft firepower, but even Montpelier did not need to lift a finger as squadrons of allied planes swooped in suddenly. Streaks of tracer fire lit up the sky as the fighters dove through the Siren numbers, knocking out several planes and forcing the rest to break off their attacks. As they veered off in pursuit of more targets, I realized that they had been a composition of wildcats, zeros, and sea furies, which meant…
"Don't worry about the skies, Nagato; we'll keep them clear!"
It was Enterprise's voice over the radio, and when I looked to the source, I spotted her alongside Akagi and Unicorn atop of the Ark. The three of them used their vantage point to watch the battlefield while launching more squadrons to support.
With close-in protection from both air and sea threats, I knew I could focus all of my efforts onto Mutsu. Spotting her amidst the field of exploding Siren ships wasn't too difficult. As her lines crumbled around her, she made a desperate attempt to form a defensive line to protect her position, which meant all I had to do to find her was search for the largest concentration of ships. Now she was truly desperate, as she threw the Sirens against us just to try and blunt our advance.
"Battleship squadrons, please focus your fire on the ships nearest to Mutsu's position. We cannot allow her to break away from the engagement," I instructed over the radio.
If she managed to organize a rearguard, she could potentially slip away. We had no idea what options she had with a black wisdom cube in her possession. The rain of fire intensified around her position, growing so fierce that any warship that dared to sail within arm's length of her was reduced to scrap in seconds. The field of wreckage had become so thick, one could almost walk across the ocean without risk of getting wet. But even with all the additional fire support, she could still just turn and run. I had to close the distance, and quickly.
"Montpelier, you may wish to distance yourself," I cautioned, swinging all of my turrets to the rearward arc.
Montpelier recoiled in disbelief. "Wha–are you crazy?"
"Perhaps. Bonzai!" I fired my cannons, launching myself forward perhaps faster than any battleship ever intended to sail, then once my cannons loaded, I fired again, and again.
To no surprise, though, Mutsu recognized that the small, rocketing kansen, blazing towards her like a shooting star, was the biggest threat to her. Half of her rigging gone still meant she had four 41-centimetre guns at her command, and as I closed in, one did not need to be an oracle to foresee where they were all aimed. As she fired, I realized that there was no way I could evade at this speed. The seasons would change sooner than I would change course. On top of that, I was such a massive target with my rigging that only a blind fool could miss.
"Wait, my rigging… that's it!"
I was more than just a battleship, more than simply a kansen; I was a human, too, and as a human, I was tiny. Before I could second-guess myself, I threw myself into the air and unsummoned all of my rigging. Freed from all of the extra mass of my armour and weapons, I slipped through the incoming shells like a fish slipped through the currents, with only a faint singing of my ear tips from the munitions' heat as they screamed past.
There was now nothing that stood between Mutsu and I. Having just fired, all she could do was watch as I hurtled towards her. With a brilliant, acerbic flash, I once again summoned my rigging, just in time to deliver a full 41-centimetre broadside at point-blank range.
Firing heavy artillery in such close quarters was not the wisest decision I had ever made in my military career, but I had time to reflect while I waited for the smoke to clear and the ringing in my ears to cease. By the time I realized what had even happened, I was being helped back to my feet by Montpelier.
"And here I thought only carriers flew," she quipped. "You okay?"
"I am… fine." I had a bit of a headache, but my well-being was far from the pressing concern.
It was Mutsu that I was worried about. A full broadside at such a range should put any kansen out of commission, and it was only sheer willpower that she was still somehow standing. But she was no threat anymore: almost all of her rigging was gone, with only a few loose scraps and a half-wrecked turret still hanging on. She could barely stand anymore, let alone fight, and yet that didn't stop her from channeling all of that anger into the most venomous glare I've had the misfortune of dealing with.
"It is over, Mutsu," I said.
Without her to provide direction, the remaining Siren vessels became increasingly uncoordinated in their defenses. It made them easy targets for the rest of my allies, and they were soon being routed en masse. Even if she tried to use her black wisdom cube again, any reinforcements would just be vaporized as soon as they appeared.
"You… you might have won here…" Mutsu growled, clutching a bloodied arm, "but don't think for a second that you've saved anyone. Those 'allies' of yours will turn on you sooner or later, mark my words!"
"They are not my allies," I replied, looking to Montpelier beside me, "they are my friends, and I will fight to protect every last one of them."
That just set her off even worse. "Friends? Friends!" She was furious, incensed even. "You might make nice with these… people, but they serve admirals and politicians who don't give a damn about anything but their own ambitions! Rule, or be ruled, that's how the world works! And no amount of your naive, feel-good prosthelytizing will change that!"
I sighed. Whatever hope I had that maybe some sense would have been knocked into her by that last salvo were as sunken as the rest of the hulks around me. Plus with my headache still raging, my patience had reached its limits.
"Montpelier, if you could…"
"Hm? Oh! Right." She pivoted her six-inch batteries towards Mutsu and promptly blasted her with a quick salvo, toppling her over like a broken mast. It wasn't the most eloquent means to end the conversation, but after a fleeting moment of squirming in the water and some groaning, she finally slipped unconscious.
"Those were not training rounds, were they?" I asked.
"She's a battleship, you think a training round would've stopped her?"
It was hard to argue that point. "Very well. Could you tow her back to the rest of the fleet? I will go and retrieve the captain. It is time for us to go home. All of us."