The chamber shuddered, the tremor seen and felt as much as it was heard. Overhead lights flickered and swung from their supports. Dust was uprooted from their innumerable roosts in the ceiling crawling with pipes and vents.
The shaking dissipated as quickly as it occurred. But it added an anxious air into an already tenuous atmosphere.
Herne shivered, eager to expel her nervousness as if she could shake them off. Then, out of the corner of her vision, she caught Lazuli cowering, her head buried under her hands. The sniper slapped her with a look of disgust.
"Suck it up! We're inside a bunker hardier than anything! It'll take more than that to even crack this place!"
"B-b-but it's so scary!" Lazuli whined. "What even is going on out there?!"
"Blow me to ponder the same thing!" Beluga agreed loudly. "For book-lovers, I be thinkin' that the wolfies need to better their aim."
"Damnation of the heavens…" Taisch muttered. "Fate, once a force of nature, hath become a puppet for Tanager. Who knows what the signs mean anymore…"
Fenris scurried in an impatient circle. "I want out I want out! What're we even doing down here?!"
"Because as well-protected our base is, someone still managed to find a way in," Kolga chided. "And right now we're expecting another."
"I so called it that they'd use those vents to sneak their way in," Thiassi exclaimed. "Now who's the one who owes me ten zollars?"
"Shut up, shut up! We've got incoming!" Snapping up to Herne's words, all of the destroyers turned their attention down the wide hangar-like corridor. If the ventilation and pipes made up the veins, then the canals represented Megalith's arteries. Carpeted with water, the passageways that ran throughout the fortress like a maze channeled the occupants to and fro from one position to another with relative ease.
And the one where they stood in would lead anyone directly to the heart of Megalith.
Up ahead, the Aegir destroyers all saw it. Barreling down the enclosed corridor, riding the open waves with defiant unconcern, their enemy rushed in. Clad in rigging of a single massive flight deck by her side and her exterior of blue shining under the passing lights, there was no mistaking it.
The Ribbon herself was coming straight for them.
Instantly the destroyers formed a line, weapons raised to form a phalanx. Gazes met, it seemed that the sight only emboldened Fort Grace.
Herne spied through her scope with a restless eye. "Here she comes! Don't let her get through Panel K!"
She fired a shot, but as if having sensed the predictable, Fort Grace reacted first. The shot destined for her head only found itself embedded in her rigging; a small sacrifice in the name of a greater victory. Course and speed held firm, it was now Fort Grace's turn.
Planes materialized by her side, unleashing a horde of missiles as they did. The Aegir destroyers held their ground, filling the air with counterfire, flares, and even missiles of their own. The combined crossfire made for a hazardous realm. In the narrow arena, there was little room to maneuver and nowhere to hide.
Fort Grace ran after her missiles, running into an equivalent storm. She pushed through with grimace, warding off what attacks she could and forcing herself to weather those that could not, pushing past the pain just as much as she charged. The destroyers held position, but their ranks wavered. Capitalizing on this, Fort Grace zoomed through, cutting past them. Diving aside lest they be run down by the weight of a carrier dashing like a runaway freight train, the Aegir destroyers had no choice but to let her through. It was a battle of endurance and the Delta leader had persevered.
Herne gawked at the display with an incredulous face. "What're you morons doing?! Go after her!"
As her element scrambled to keep up, their formations were once again cut apart by darting objects. Whizzing fast and hard like bullets, the flock of Fort Grace's Phantoms screamed past them. Caught in their gale, the Kingdom ships recoiled and receded. No attacks were made but by the time it ended, they stood in disarray and Fort Grace's image was far from their grasp.
"Damned Phantoms!" Herne cursed as she shot off after the carrier. She whipped her rifle up, the muzzle having already sought a target. She pulled the trigger in impatience, the shot rewarding her with a connecting hit on the carrier. Fort Grace stumbled from the shot but regained her footing. Shooting back a contemptuous look, she continued running.
"Maintain heading. The main generator room should be just ahead!"
Fort Grace took heed of the advice without a word, her breaths scarce. She ignored the hungry gazes on her back, her focus fixated towards what lay ahead. The corridor stretched like a never-ending underground tunnel, the indoor lights passing by in flashes. Suddenly, the mellow glow became harsh scarlet and the sound of klaxons joined it.
"What's going on?" the carrier demanded.
"Sounds like they've activated some sort of lockdown procedure. They're trying to lock you out of the main reactor! Get moving before that happens!"
With renewed vigor the carrier pushed onward, motivated by the fleeting images of her pursuers in the vestiges of her vision. She rushed down the corridor, drawing what strength she could toward her propulsion. She raced fast, but she proved to not be faster than a spiteful shell. Fort Grace lurched from the impact, the shot weathering down her strength as much as it wittled her body. Allowing herself only a sharp inhale, the carrier pushed on but not before dispatching her air wing behind her as precaution. Phantoms on her back, her eyes turned back to the goal in front of her.
Far away, dead ahead on the opposite side of Megalith's main artery, she could see the gate. Glimpses of hazard colors faded in the bath of red, the flashing sirens draping the area in blood-like light. Alarms loudly proclaimed the apparent infection that was the carrier's arrival and the body's reaction to it.
There, where there was a frame that signaled the the division between Megalith's many chambers, a metallic blast door slowly trundled. A gray behemoth that groaned and shuddered, its drab surface like a tombstone's. It threatened to smother the route, and with it the allies' hope.
Fort Grace grit her teeth and continued forward, squeezing all power she could from her rigging. The blare of alarms filled the air, and just beneath the surface the sounds of battle crept in the background. It was not long until a new set of alarms filled her ears.
She peeked behind her, catching sight of telltale puffs of white. She swiveled her CIWS around, catching what missiles she could before they reached her.
Smoke blanketed her view, but she was quick to spot two contacts emerge from the white mist. Having wriggled through the gauntlet, Fenris and Thiassi sped after the carrier like tenacious dogs (more literal in the case of the former). As they steadily closed the distance, so did their hands.
Fort Grace curved to the side, slipping from one pursuer but not the other. She felt a small but tight grip on the hems of her hair, the weight of the destroyer threatening to anchor her down. A feisty growl accentuated the small ship's intent.
"Rrrrrr! Got 'er got 'er got 'er!"
Fort Grace swerved left and right but Fenris continued to hold. Her course hampered, the carrier found herself vulnerable to a tackle from Thiassi. Caught with Fenris on her back and Thiassi on her front, Fort Grace scrambled to ply them off of her. Her eyes darted to the sight of the other destroyers converging on her, ignoring the harassing birds in favor of exacting retribution upon the ship that sent them.
Thiassi clung tight to the carrier, her arms wrapped around her like rope. "C'mon… almost got it…! Ah-ha!"
The thieving destroyer found herself suddenly cut short courtesy of a missile slamming into her back. Grip loosened, the entanglement was undone with a forceful shove that threw Thiassi across the chamber. One threat neutralized, Fort Grace quickly made herself scarce, but a persistent nuisance remained.
"Grrr! Grrr!"
The Delta carrier's course swayed to the side. Trailing behind Fenris was at the mercy of momentum, the carrier's direction swinging her like a pendulum.
Just what Fort Grace was counting on.
When Fort Grace veered, this brought her close to the sides. Skimming close to the walls, she glided along the featureless concrete until at a distance, there lay a prominent protrusion. She held course, closing in as fast as she could until at the last minute…
The hard impact was finally what did Fenris in, letting go with a yelp. Absolved from her dogged grasp, Fort Grace was buoyed back with speed (though a quick check of her hair elicited a curled distaste on her lips once she figured out that she had been latched onto with more than just the destroyer's two hands).
She continued her run but it was not long before new troubles reached her. But before Fort Grace could find respite from the previous encounter, her missile alerts went off in her ears. She veered to the side, her point-defense active, but the threat did not end; it persisted.
More missiles snaked after her. The carrier switched heading, the projectiles whizzing past by a hair's breadth. More came, coming too close for Fort Grace's liking in spite of her timely evasion. Tailing her, Kolga and Taisch could see their efforts were having effect. They followed in the carrier's wake like missiles themselves.
The two destroyers branched off, their movement caught in the edges of her vision. Fort Grace's CIWS tracked them but only one. Their next volley armed, an epiphany came to Fort Grace with startling clarity.
Kolga didn't hesitate once she secured a lock. "Now!"
At her signal, she and Taisch let loose their payload. At her signal series of projectiles streaked toward their target, their paths destined to catch their prey in a crisscross. There would be no defense against their trap.
At her signal, Fort Grace also slammed to a stop.
Taisch and Kolga barely had time to react as the carrier's form whizzed past between them. "Unfathomable! Worry not, for we shall-"
"Wait, no!"
Acting on reflex, Taisch turned around to confront the Delta carrier once more. But now in front of their opponent, where her own armaments were pointed, she had forgotten that she and Kolga now shared a moment of vulnerability. In quick succession, both destroyers fell to Fort Grace's own attacks, their unconscious forms quickly left behind as she accelerated, eager to regain her speed.
"Arr, ye be not be getting away that easily!"
Fort Grace's senses snap back to alert but was surprised to find herself beset not by an attack but by a net. She reacted to the unexpected, attempting to fight back but found her struggles inhibited by the firm rope that wrapped around her. Ensnared, her pace slowed, the strands of the net collectively tugging towards a weight that followed behind her.
"Got the big catch! Now reel 'er in!"
"L-leave it to me! I'll- OUGH!"
Fort Grace may be constricted, but she felt her foot kick something. She wasn't sure what it was but found her situation deteriorating as missiles began pelting on her.
Beluga gritted her teeth, determined to pin Fort Grace down in spite of the weight differences their classes offered. Emboldened by her foe's inability to defend herself, she threw shot after shot, as much as she could as if to punish the carrier. They slammed onto target, sure hits that each exacted a small feeling of vengeance.
Fort Grace felt the fist-like blows rain on her without pause, withstanding them with tense grimace. Her rigging did little to shield her from the impacts but from that sliver of recourse, she thought quickly.
Burnt haze coated Fort Grace as much as Beluga's net did and suddenly her image exploded into white, disappearing behind a carpet of smoke. Beluga drew back from the sight, surprised by the unexpected sight and the peculiar pain in her eyes. Wiping them clear, Beluga was stunned to see Fort Grace free, the net reduced to burnt ash fluttering in pieces. The familiar scent of chaff and flares filled the air.
The pirate destroyer whipped her weapon up but it was already too late. Beluga's ploy was paid back in kind by the carrier.
Fort Grace exhaled in relief; exhausted but relieved that another foe had been silenced. She breathed in and out, cautiously optimistic of the reprieve she had finally earned.
Then a shell tore into her shoulder, shattering her hopes in one loud ring.
Grunting in pain, the Ribbon scanned her surroundings. She already knew who it was before she found her. Herne had already readied the next shot by the time she and Fort Grace exchanged glares. The carrier wearily braced herself but realized something in the corner of her eye…
The gate!
In the midst of skirmish, the moving barrier had remained slow but dutiful. And now, it was halfway close. Her window was shrinking precariously before her eyes.
Fort Grace bolted for the entrance. She pushed the last Aegir destroyer from her mind but a thunderous shot threatened her with a painful reminder. She staggered, her legs burning from the weight. But the sight of the closing gate kept her on her feet. She grit her teeth and charged.
Another shot, slashing into her back. Fort Grace let out a gasp, her vision losing focus. But she fought back. She sought to keep the image of her goal clear, to not let it disappear in the blur of nothingness.
The opening beckoned her onward, encouraging her with promises of hope that lay beyond. But it continued to shrink.
Another shot. The impact made Fort Grace lurch. It threw her balance, trying to tip the scales of defeat. Her footing lapsed but she was too fast to stop. She was too close.
She reached her hand out, as if to grasp the gate with her own fingers. She tried to make that a reality. The gap continued to shrink before her eyes.
Closer… closer!
Her balance gave in before her body could. Slipping, she fell forward in a dive. Severed from her own propulsion, Fort Grace was in the hands of her momentum. The opening was now a bare sliver, seconds away from locking her from the rest of the world. Her hand remained outstretched.
She could actually touch it now.
Her chest slapped against the water surface, the impact provoking a grunt. The splash blinded her where she lay panting. But when she summoned the strength to lift her head, Fort Grace saw an unfamiliar world.
And looking back, a thick blast door now sat unmoving behind her. Her pursuers now only existed as images in her memory.
Wounded, exhausted, and weary, Fort Grace allowed herself a congratulatory smile.
"I… I made it!"
Andromeda's sigh of relief exhaled over the comms. "That's good news… The reactor room should just be ahead. With the sub-generators offline the shielding is disabled."
Panting, the carrier clambered back up to her feet. The alarms that plagued her ears had become deafened by the thick doors and the flashes of red were all but present. Compared to the gauntlet from before, Fort Grace found herself in a quiet sanctuary.
But then she felt a tremor, the foundations of the fortress quietly shaking. She felt the entire fortress quiver from the unseen blow. Another meteorite. Her moment of rest was but only a brief lull - the war still raged. And the world was still at stake.
"You don't have much time. Proceed to destroying the main generator!"
Taking a deep breath, the carrier set off.
A loud bang. A ringing shot, the volume echoing up and down the corridor. As much as she could inject her frustrations into the shells, they had no effect on the unbudging door.
Try as she might, there was nothing Herne could do.
"DAMN IT!" With a scream, she punted the gate, only to realize to her chagrin that even it cared not for her foot. The blast door continued to sit still and unconvinced. Herne had better chance trying to kick her own queen than five inches of reinforced composites - at least it would've been less painful for the destroyer.
Kolga looked on with an unamused brow. "Seriously?"
"Shut up," the sniper hissed as she cradled her foot. "Isn't there some kind of manual control?!"
"W-we're looking!" whined Lazuli. She, Fenris, and Thiassi scoured the nearby walls for the coveted panel but to no avail - their stronghold that was to be bereft of mercy to their enemies had become unforgiving to its occupants.
Herne growled in frustration. "Ugh! Hey, Wolfpie! Open up, will ya?!"
"Er, we can't…"
The destroyer blew her top again. "What do you mean you can't?! You're the brainiac! Quit screwing around and open the blast doors, we gotta get after that-"
Another tremor shook the passageway, the water roused by their feet and dust unsettled above their heads. The walls and ceiling - the very building itself - groaned, the low roar of rock grinding on rock. Like the very earth itself was on the verge of tearing itself apart.
There was no denying it: Megalith was not as invulnerable as they had presumed.
When the shaking subsided Herne whipped the radio back up. She barely noticed how still her breath was. "H-hey, the door! What about it?"
"I'm telling you, we're trying!" Beowulf π argued. "But there's nothing we can do! The fortress is taking a pounding and the system's getting fried! Door controls aren't responsive!"
Herne stared at the ceiling in dread, counting the cracks that were growing in number and width.
And the tremors continued.
"Oh hell…"
Fort Grace zipped down the wide corridor. It too functioned like a canal and she was all too happy to sail swiftly over the restless waves. The once dull gray and dark had become more industrial as pipes and cables adorned the walls in haphazard openness. Caution signs and colors warned all of the possible dangers and risks of venturing deeper into Megalith, warnings that almost seemed to be directed at Fort Grace and her mission. The deeper she progressed, the more dire they became.
And all the while, she could hear it. The droning buzz of power flowing through the facility's veins. The hiss and lights of mechanical life. Even the faint impacts from outside beat like a heart.
Then, turning a corner…
The moment Fort Grace beheld it, she knew she had reached it. Passing through the final portal, one unlike any other, she entered a grand chamber. Cast away were the rigid lines and factory hallways; a circular room like an auditorium awaited her, one larger than any she had ever seen. Consoles and intriguing lights adorned the sides and surfaces like an audience. Wires snaked all across the floor, leading to squat pillars of assumed purpose like vines in a jungle. Megalith's generator room was not what Fort Grace expected - it surpassed it.
But the chamber was nothing compared to the blinding jewel that rested in the center. Glowing like a star atop a pedestal: the very heart of the fortress.
Taking a tentative step forward, Fort Grace could already feel its aura. She couldn't help but be enraptured by its appearance. Even from a distance she could feel its warmth but it did not burn. It glowed in bright blue, almost enticing the carrier with its vibrant hue but she could see the orb wane and wax in shape like eager tides. Parts of itself routinely protruded out like filaments of the sun as if to test the boundaries. Fort Grace understood that this was the reactor devoid of its shielding, yet it continued to remain obedient on its mount. A powerful entity - composed but only for now.
"Right, I've found it. Now what do I need to do? Just shoot it?"
"Not quite. Since it should be a fusion reactor type IV-B, the removal of its shielding should already put it in a precarious state. All that's needed is to tip it into the volatile side and then-"
Thunder bellowed and in that instant, Fort Grace felt its volume pierce into her backside. The echoing roar that drowned the chamber was comparable to the excruciating pain that flooded her senses. Pain was all she knew in that moment, even unaware that she had been tossed aside from the blow.
Her sensations slowly came to and Fort Grace groaned. Her limbs, like her mind, were still seized with agony. When the thunder ceased, laughter took its place in the void. Familiar laughter.
Her blood ran cold.
"Who else for the wretched Coalition to send but their own touted heroine? The one responsible for all my mishaps? The architect of our misery? Who else to send to repeat this conspiracy? You've become all too predictable."
Fort Grace turned to look. Standing where she once did. Tanager.
The battleship strode forward, sword in hand and cannons by her side. A smile did not exist on her visage but instead, there was something worse. Her eyes seemed to burn differently. Like a kettle frothing at the lid, her emotions came through unrestrained.
"And yet, I would have it no other way… After so long, an opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to enact vengeance after so long. For once, destiny has smiled on me. Hehehe-hahaha! Megalith shall be your sacrificial alter!"
Another thunderous roar, the muzzles of her grand cannons belching fire and smoke. But rather than the carrier, they directed their misery to the entrance. In one savage stroke, it became buried in rubble. The whole chamber quivered from the blow.
Tanager then turned her attention back to her. Only then, did a satisfied smile stretch across her lips. The same smile one has in anticipation for pleasure. Her's was all too evident.
"Now… face me, Ribbon!"
The acrid smell of smoke. The never-ending pulse of gunfire. The sky lit as though it was on fire, just as how it rained down upon them.
This was the nightmare Cleveland tried to navigate through.
The young knight grunted with exertion as she dodged yet again. The air came alive brimming with danger. It seemed that every second, a shell would streak by where she stood. Every second she kept light on her feet, trying to avoid the danger all around her. But it was everywhere. Caught between the unending fire from the fortress, the relentless Wyverns that seemed to hunt anything and anyone, and now raining asteroids to contend with, there was no escape from this ordeal.
And she wasn't the only one.
All around her, scattered in the winds of chaos were her fellow sisters and friends. Columbia, Helena, Denver, Montpelier, Sheffield, Edinburgh, Tea Time - all of them swept up in the mayhem, all struggling to survive. As the carriers continued to hold their own against the monster that danced and pounced among them, cruisers like themselves were left to contend with the weight. Deprived of power to affect change, they were left at the complete mercy of the titans.
It was like every ship for herself. But she was not going to abandon them under her watch.
"Columbia, keep up the anti-air fire! Denver, keep away from Geofon! Keep your spacing and keep moving you guys!"
Montpelier frowned from the spray of another shot evaded too close for comfort. "What should we do? We can't keep up with this level of fire!"
"We're not giving up! We're all in this together! If we don't stop Tanager then-"
"WATCH OUT!"
Cleveland barely had time to react as a fragment fell closeby, washing her with its impact. It nearly consumed her, letting her go with only singes to tell the shocking tale. But in that instant, fighters throttled through the defensive screen, recognizing weakness. Missiles launched, it was already over; the head they sought for so long finally fell to the blade. Cleveland fell to the sea, her body and rigging limp and tattered.
To everyone's horror, Cleveland did not move.
Montpelier couldn't tell if she had uttered anything. Her voice or someone else's, the details blurred as she rushed to her sister's side, instantly embracing her in her arms. Montpelier couldn't remember if she was the first to say it, but all that mattered was that the cry was the same - a name.
"Cleve's been hit!"
The cruiser's hand went into delirium. Assessing her fallen sister's state, her wounds, her vitality…
She felt a pulse as slight as it was; she heard breathing, faint unlike her own. But as much of a relief they provided, Montpelier found it difficult to contain her worries.
"Big sis… big sis, please!"
As much as she begged, nary a stir came from Cleveland. As much as she shook her, Montpelier could not free her from her slumber. Their sister lived, but not by their side.
A hand on her shoulder yanked her backed to reality, a world fraught with deafening cannonfire and turmoil. "Monty, get a grip! You've got to take over command!"
Montpelier glanced back down at her injured sister. Their idol in her very hands. In a moment of clarity, Montpelier noticed how her hands trembled. She had always regarded her reputed elder sibling in high regard. Someone she always looked up to, someone she could count on when the going got tough, someone she even wished she could be one day. She still remembered how Cleveland told her she would.
Taking deep breaths, Montpelier's hands stopped shaking.
"Everyone, focus on anti-air combat! We're not leaving behind anyone! We're all in this together!"
Denver, Columbia, and Helena returned fatigued but resolute nods. Montpelier laid her sister to rest as she stood up, ready to return to the fray. Down a ship, she was determined to pick up the slack.
Fire continued to rain, uncaring for the moment. It persisted heavy and intense; unyielding but so were they. Fire lanced from both directions, the cruisers taking their ire out on the enemy aircraft that roamed the skies. But try as they might, the Wyverns remained steadfast in their flight.
Worse, fire continued to fall from the sky.
"Heads up! Another meteor!"
"We're still taking fire from Megalith! I think they're all focusing on us!"
All eyes looked to the ominous stars above their heads and the automated guns that covered the fortress, many guns too many aimed in their general direction. The cruisers all braced for the oncoming barrage only to be greeted with swift figures that darted past them, mists of white adding camouflage to their maiden attires.
Columbia lit up at the sight of the Royal Navy cruisers. "Sheffield! Edinburgh! Great timin'!"
"Make it count, it won't last long!" Sheffield warned before she and Edinburgh circled back around, trails of shells falling in their wake in their attempt to catch enticing prey. The smoke screen spread thin, but with the acrid smoke of intense combat, a sufficient wall of white separated the allied ships from Megalith. Shots peppered through the veil but they were without coordination.
One threat minimized, Montpelier now turned her worries to skyward. Fields of flaming rock streaked down to earth as far she could see. Hurtling down by gravity, she knew all-too well there was little anyone could do to counter such forces of nature.
And it just happened that there was one who believed she could try.
The gray-haired ship found herself unexpectedly joined by Reno. With a curious gizmo in one hand, she slapped it onto the other where it immediately opened up around her gauntlet. Giving it one last flex, she raised it to the sky. "Everyone, get close to me!"
The augmented device clicked, then spurred to life as her palm glowed a starlight blue. The light rapidly grew, expanding more and more until it spilled outward. The Eagle ships recognized this as one of Reno's Vibra-Shield but as the barrier continued to spread, encompassing the sky over their heads, their jaws dropped. Before long, it was prepared.
Peeking through the sparkling shield, meteors made their way towards them. They slammed against the barrier, the impacts still retaining their stunning display. But where they would accompany the sounds and glares, the gale was noticeably absent. The shield was working!
Denver exhaled in blissful relief. "All right! That's the meteor shower taken care of!"
"Won't be for long though," Reno grunted. "Drawing a lot of juice just to make this work… To be honest, I wasn't even sure if this would work!"
The asteroids continued to fall, the next one seemingly larger than the last. Stars from the heavens continued to lash out, spilling their wrath where Reno's barrier caught them. The barrier held, negating the damage the meteorites could have inflicted. With each impact, the surface of the shield sparkled and fizzled like waves of a pond.
Reno's metallic hand hummed loudly, quivering with the sheer volume of energy that filtered through it. Her other hand grasped it for stability. Silently, amidst the awe and relief of her protection, Reno winced.
Likewise, Buzzard made a similar expression as she recoiled from the attack, yet again another close shave. She found her footing but there was no time to rest on her laurels for even a split-second.
Not when Geofon was upon her.
The carrier ducked and weaved, stepping side to side all in the name of steering clear of the sharp blur that demanded her. Privately, Buzzard cursed her misfortune. Ever since Fort Grace had vanished within the fortress, Geofon had been deprived of her prime target. But in its absence, she had sought out the next one. And it just so happened to be the eldest sibling of the Federation carriers.
With every narrow miss, Buzzard had scathing criticism of the circumstances. Now she knew what it felt like being in Fort Grace's place.
"Buzzard!"
She couldn't turn to see who called for her as tracers cut in around Geofon. The Aegir carrier zipped away, slipping in between the shots. Now in company, Buzzard felt she could finally breathe.
"Thanks for the assist."
Before Kestrel and Vulture could reply, a gray blur cut in between them. The three sisters all recoiled from the sudden return that struck them like lightning. They reacted fast but Geofon moved faster.
"Vulture!" Buzzard looked in shock as her sister fell before Geofon was upon her in an instant. She withdrew with a glowering look, the sword succeeding in slashing the hems of her coat. The carrier weaved; firmly back on the defense, the cycle continued.
Her foe's Wyvern planes kept the others at bay, but some had ventured enough to encroach Geofon from her flanks. Though only a token effort, the errant intruder bought Geofon's attention.
She continued her whirlwind assault on Buzzard as Arquette skirted behind her, vying to sneak in a sly mark on the enemy carrier's back like an insult. The noblewoman eyed it as Geofon continued her onslaught on Buzzard, biding her chance until-
A Wyvern screamed right past her, tearing her concentration apart. Arquette would have swore at the inconvenience were it not for a flurry of cuts knocking her unconscious. Her limp form hadn't come to rest on the sea before Geofon rocketed off in another direction, seeking another opportune victim. Buzzard hardly had time to comprehend the shock and surprise.
Two of theirs down for the count with soon more to follow. Their survival was now called into question.
Kestrel gazed at the ongoing struggle with forlorn eyes. With little prospect of hope, their faith now rested elsewhere.
'Please Fort Grace… you're our only hope!'
The flames refused to die down. They threatened to drown out everything.
The thunder never seemed to cease.
The most horrific, cacophonous concert played out within the confines of their chosen arena.
Fort Grace never stopped moving. Her eyes remained glued to her sole opponent. Every move, every possible action observed and recorded. Even the treacherous interior was paid little heed. Tanager had cemented her place in her mind through fire, thunder, and ambitions of slaughter.
Shells whizzed right over her head, their shrieks loud to Fort Grace's ears. They impacted on the innumerable mainframe that made up the generator chamber, smashing them into oblivion. In a matter of minutes the room had lost semblance of what it once was; like her shells, Tanager's fury was incomparable.
Fort Grace dove behind a pillar, only for it to shatter into shrapnel, torn holes where battleship batteries gouged out the architecture. She fell over, fortunate to barely elude the shower of steel but not lucky enough to escape the force of the impacts, her cover exposed. The carrier tried to scramble up with bated breath in anticipation of the killing blow, but none came.
Tanager could only mock her foe. "Gaze upon yourself - what a mockery of a champion have you become? To even think that the one accredited for such heroism could prostrate herself before me."
Her expression darkened. "And yet, you have demeaned me. Smeared our dignity and sovereignty. For too long have you been allowed to cast us eternal humiliation! You've already taken from us so much, yet here we are!"
"Because you sought to take from us all!" Fort Grace snapped back. "You attacked your neighbors and ravaged our lands! You fired the first shots of an unnecessary war!"
"And yet it was by your hand that the trigger was pulled," Tanager growled, her veneer gathering storm. "Long have we been the target of envious eyes. Were it not for the calamity, we would not have been the victims of your burden! Provoked us with incessant needs! Marauded our borders with your hardships! Wrought us with demands that we shoulder your miseries!"
"... There was only so much we could've done," murmured Fort Grace, her recollections coming through. "Desperation pushes us towards any semblance of strength, towards hope. Your Kingdom was that hope for many! We were all victims of Ulysses!"
Tanager's face contorted in anger, her dialogue coming through as sharp hisses. "I had dreamed that one day we would be free of such follies, to be free of such weakness. To be our own monarchs. When they arrived, I realized so had our time. I knew the risks, but we would have been in paradise were it not for you! You, champion of the ungrateful and undeserving, pushed me to this! My lost dreams… the fault lays in your hands!"
Fort Grace glared in disgust. "My fault?! This madness is yours alone!"
Tanager did not reciprocate the gaze. Instead, she began laughing. Her body shook not with rage but in unhinged delight. "Have you heard this saying? It takes two to play war! You've killed my ambitions, but not my drive! I will avenge my dream! I will crush your beloved Delta Coalition, destroy your so-called allies, annihilate EVERYTHING you hold dear! There will be NOTHING left to ever torment me and my kingdom ever again!"
The Delta carrier could only look at her in disbelief. "You're insane!"
A condescending chuckle. For a brief second, it was as if Tanager had returned to normal. "Such a word for an unenlightened mind. I am our salvation! Once nothing remains, there will be peace.
"... But if I am to accomplish this will, if I am to drive my enemies to extinction… it must begin with you! MY NEW REIGN SHALL BE CORONATED WITH YOUR BLOOD!"
The carrier bolted before the barrage washed over her, the ground she once stood transforming into an inferno. She escaped the fires but the heat remained at an all-time high.
No time was wasted sending birds in the air, rapidly converging on the battleship. The burning aroma that occupied the air was instantly joined by clouds of tracers and flak. Fort Grace's Phantoms tried to navigate the treacherous air but many found themselves felled before Tanager's venomous eyes. The few that survived to release their ordnance found their efforts for naught as the battleship weathered the blows with a cackle.
"Is this all you have to offer to me, a paltry contribution?! The age of carriers is but fraught with cowards! How was it that you've accomplish so much with useless weapons?! Useless… USELESS!"
A pair of shells whistled dangerously past Fort Grace's head as she jumped aside. She turned to fire missiles of her own but found they were futiled from deterring her foe, let alone her accuracy. Worse, to her shock, she caught Tanager barreling through the haze, her bulky rigging emerging from the smoke like a nightmare.
A glint of light was all Fort Grace saw right as she narrowly evaded a swing. She staggered back, away from Tanager who had her sword in her hands. Having missed the first swing, the battleship was already ready to deliver the next. It slashed into the scenery, bright sparks marking the scars she left in the machinery of the reactor room. A look of frenzied rage took hold of her expression as she desperately sought her opponent's flesh.
Then Tanager lunged, her greatsword ahead of her like a jousting lance. It plunged right towards Fort Grace where only quick thinking saw to the blade slipping right past where her chest was, missing its mark by a hair's breadth. The sword stabbed the empty air, coming to a sudden stop when it buried itself in a wall.
Fort Grace seized the opportunity, breaking free of the melee as Tanager struggled to ply her weapon from the wall. She faced her weapons drawn but even with her back to her, Tanager's turrets complemented her hateful stare that remained fixed on the Coalition ship.
Neither hesitated to pull the trigger, the two swallowed by the instant flash and the choking smoke that followed.
Tanager lurched from the hits but ignored the injuries; they were mere pinpricks against her hide. Abandoning the sword with disgust, she swung her mantle, clearing the obscurant smoke from her sight. She surveyed the scene but it did not take long for her to find her opponent writhing on the ground, blown by the impact. Faint wisps of white and gray marked where her shells had struck in the exchange.
A sadistic smile instantly appeared on Tanager's visage. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered like her giggling as she slowly approached her fallen foe. Even with Fort Grace slowly coming to, she took great pleasure in eyeing her with an insatiable gaze.
But suddenly, the ground beneath Fort Grace buckled. Before either could react it gave way, sending the carrier to plunge into an unknown depth below. The chasm that swallowed her was neither natural nor anomalous as identical voids opened up throughout the reactor room, forming a ring around the flaring core.
"T-Tanager!"
"What is it?!" the battleship snarled.
"The generator's becoming unstable!" Beowulf π cried. "Damage has become too severe! Emergency venting procedures have been triggered but it'll only be a matter of time before it goes critical!"
The battleship fumed as she surveyed the destruction barely contained within the chamber: wreckage and ruin dotted the scenery, casualties of their duel. Gashes lined the interior like mortal wounds. She could see the core brimming with pain as if reeling from the injuries. It was all in the name of slaying her nemesis.
That was all that mattered.
"Override all containment! Release all restraints!"
Beowulf π was aghast. "T-the core will exceed meltdown!"
"AND THAT WILL GIVE ME THE KILLING BLOW I SEEK!" Without a second's hesitation, Tanager raced for the chasm, leaping down with a maniacal grin. The darkness quickly enveloped her but she paid it no mind. Her smile shone through the veil.
She landed, feet meeting hard metal that heralded her arrival with echoes. Rising with all guns armed, Tanager took in her new environment. The darkened bowels of the facility where what one would expect: a dim forest of busy machinery and gears, a world of cables that covered the floor and ceilings thicker than any vine, and a layout that made for a malevolent architecture.
But none of that mattered to the battleship. Her eyes were busy seeking something else.
She took a step, her heeled boots piercing whatever cables that were beneath her in disregard. Her steps barely made a sound. Moving like a panther, she was all ears for the slightest misstep amid the perpetual droning that filled the world below.
It was only a matter of time.
She snapped her aim to the side. The world flashed white in an instant, the roar of a broadside consuming the surroundings before a chunk of it vanished. Smoldering ruin was all that remained of it. But Fort Grace's absence was still noted.
Tanager's grin transitioned into a scowl. "So you are a coward. First you enslave yourself to your menial aircraft, now you resort to lurking in the shadows like a child!"
Tanager whirled around again, tearing another subsystem asunder with her cannons. Sparks and flame erupted from where it once was, ember rising with the smoke - and from it a Phantom flew out.
The battleship readied all guns and opened fire. The plane vanished under the flash and flames but Tanager had no time to confirm anything as more birds trickled in from her sides. She swiveled her turrets in all directions, craving their destruction as she saw their projectiles set loose toward her. The aircraft were warded but while some of their missiles were swatted down, few survived to dare to strike her hull. The attack was a pittance but the intent was a greater wound to her.
Tanager's temper rose dangerously. If her foe wants her to continue defying her destruction, to continue making her work for her victory, then so she shall.
The hunt was over. The execution was long overdue.
Fort Grace remained crouched behind a column, her feet glued to the floor and her senses on alert. Employing her aircraft as her proxies to peck at Tanager was a convenient ploy on her part but with the attack blunted she would have to find her again. Worse, she had sensed a peculiar interference in the environment as it picked at her sensors and HUD, leaving her blind to Tanager's whereabouts.
She stayed still, hearing the rhythms of her own breathing. Even having discovered safety she remained tense, her still-aching wounds refusing to sit still. Every accumulated injury up to today weighed her down, sapping her strength. It would only be a matter of time before they would become too much for her to shoulder…
A loud bang nearly made her jump. She considered it was yet another of Tanager's paranoia but it came differently. It came as an outburst and like sparks, a chain-reaction popped off all around her. Clangs, hisses, rumblings, and deep groaning resonated through the walls, ceilings, and floor. As suddenly as they began they subsided but never disappeared; it was as if the very structure was straining at the seams. A buzz-like humming steadily filled the air.
'Could it be…?'
Tentatively, Fort Grace rose. Slowly and methodically, she checked her surroundings. All clear, the carrier was about to step from her cover when she felt a sharp jolt in her fingertip. Restraining a hiss, Fort Grace recoiled from the site of harm, realizing the metallic wires that ran from the ceiling. Recognizing the current running through it, Fort Grace felt the ends of her hair stand up.
She made herself scarce from the landmark, eyes on alert for more hazards. Another distant bang, and this time she felt the whole world rumble and shift. The chamber really did feel as though it was tearing itself apart; the threat was everywhere.
Yet, as she cautiously made her way, a sort of plan began forming in her head…
"Found you."
A swift knee punted into Fort Grace's ribs before she could react. Slamming into an inert console, Fort Grace found herself dwarfed by Tanager, emerging from the shadows, guns drawn. A full broadside was unleashed, the world in the battleship's eyes vanishing in a flash before only mangled ruin greeted her. Among them lay her opponent, her uniform and hair tattered and blemished. Tanager immediately loaded the next shot but the carrier shot her a glare before a missile followed suit.
The battleship spent only a second swatting the missile out of the air, a second's window of opportunity for Fort Grace to achingly raise herself up. Another quick missile launch was her spit of defiance against Tanager who did not hesitate to retaliate with a glowering frown.
The roar and thunder washed over Fort Grace again as she buckled, her body rapidly approaching its limit. She launched another missile but it exploded into dust and flames the instant it left the mount. Shells and shots whistled all around her as she limped. She stumbled, eyes stuck to Tanager as she readied the next salvo.
With nowhere to hide, the next round could end her.
Thinking quickly, Fort Grace popped off her flares. White-hot stars, in the dim confined quarters, stabbed into Tanager's eyes with their heated glare. The pain proved enough of a boon for the carrier as it compelled the battleship's imminent barrage to miss. Seizing this chance, Fort Grace continued to put distance between them.
Clambering over the ruins and loose debris, Fort Grace's sense of calm never returned. The continued presence of her enemy was felt like a bonfire. It was like a great hand that would not let her go. It gripped her in perpetual alertness, trying to crush her.
Another round of battleship shells tore the air close to her head, gouging out more machinery. Glancing behind her, Fort Grace witnessed the most murderous expression from Tanager.
"WHY - WON'T - YOU - DIE!?"
Another wrathful eruption from her cannons. What attempt Fort Grace put into resisting, if any, amounted to nothing compared to the tidal wave of fire that was Tanager. It swept her away, hammering her already-weary body in both directions: the fusillade of malignant shells that struck her and the hapless scenery that she struck against as a result.
When the dust subsided, Tanager was once again greeted to the sight of Fort Grace laying amid the wreckage and carnage. By her hand, her great enemy was adorned with more wounds, sparks from her rigging accompanying those from the bleeding machinery. To see the Delta carrier prostrated before brought her a sense of deja-vu.
Except this time, Fort Grace did not rise back up in defiance.
Everyone braced in anticipation for another falling rock. Though far from the largest witnessed since then, it nevertheless did not fail to make a spectacular impact against Reno's energy shield. But it was yet another addition to the mounting weight that, along with the occasional stray enemy missile and shell, strained the barrier.
The blue field absorbed the meteor, evoking a ripple along the surface. Despite it negating the blow, Reno reeled from it. She fell to her knee with a gasp.
"Can't… hold on… for much… longer!"
The skies above remained tormented and contested, aircraft of both sides still lingered in fierce competition even in spite of the apocalyptic circumstances. They danced and dueled among the falling meteors, some joining them when their fates met a missile that like them streaked across the sky.
Some of those missiles had made their way to Reno's shield, their contributions incomparable to the falling stars. Under the cover of her protection, the Azur Lane cruisers focused their efforts on helping to clear the skies. Their AA secondaries passed through the barrier, enabling them to fill the air with flak. Their efforts went unrewarded with a downed Wyvern but as long as the cruisers stood, they persisted.
For each others' sake, they would remain.
Montpelier tracked the overhead birds with clenched fists. Determination guided her aim, supplied the ammo as she kept up the anti-air fire. The Wyverns zoomed by fast and low, their turns tight almost in defiance to the laws of physics. Even after this time she found herself surprised and frustrated by their agility.
More impacts against the shield. Sparkles continued to dance on the barrier but like Reno Montpelier could see it was weakening - the blue was beginning to fade.
"Nrrgh! Just… a bit more…!"
Then, sneaking in behind Reno only Montpelier saw. She frantically swung her guns around but by then it was too late.
A pair of missiles smashed into Reno from behind. Exhausted and unwary, she fell with a pained cry. Instantly, the blue field dissipated, reintroducing the cruisers to the burning overcast sky. A Wyvern swooped by, its mission accomplished as it climbed past where the protective barrier once was. The cruisers were all in grave danger once again.
"Spread out!" the gray-haired ship exclaimed. "Cover for the wounded as best you can!"
"And just how are we supposed to do that?!"
Glancing up, Montpelier could see another falling asteroid on the horizon. Hostile aircraft still populated the airspace. The very air around them was fraught with danger: a malicious missile, an errant cannon shell, or an inadvertent rock.
With nothing to protect them, they had no choice but to withstand them.
Montpelier could only reply as honestly as she could. "... I don't know."
Through her many eyes, Geofon watched as the allied cruisers scattered, now deprived of their protective shell they took for granted. Left exposed, they scurried. Between her planes, fire from the fortress, and fire from the very heavens, she concluded they were no threat.
Once she slayed the carriers, the rest would all be easy picking.
The Aegir ship refocused, squaring her sights on her current target, White Valley. She lunged forward, the mercenary barely thwarting her attempt with a timely evasion. But Geofon pressed the assault, launching one vicious attack after another that left her opponent with no room to breathe. In spite of the odds, White Valley still found a piece of mind to banter.
"Woah, easy on that swing! Take care not to hit my good side!"
"Never was fond of blades, but I think your form was off there!"
"Am I just that popular… or are you one of those stalker types?"
"H-heh, almost got me there~!"
"You sure you know how to use a sword? Because I-"
What White Valley had perceived as another missed lunge turned out to be a prelude to a swift backhanding as Geofon's armored fist, moving as a blur, knocked her out cold. In a blink of an eye, the carrier saw fit to desecrate the mercenary's rigging with a flurry of gashes before she even fell down.
Geofon capped it off with a disapproving glare. "Most illogical."
An angry roar was heard behind her. Geofon vanished in a snap before a volley of large-caliber shells streaked by, instantly acquiring Tennessee as she charged. Guns blazing, the battleship tried to drown out her foe in fire. Geofon kept up the inhuman dodging but even the avalanche of lead was imposing. Tennessee's assault was unrelenting; she was determined to do to Geofon what was done to them.
Tennessee tracked her foe through her own thicket of fire, making sure to keep her distance lest a blade find its way to her. She could shout but her glowing cannons did the talking for her. For her peers, for White Valley…
So fixated was she on Geofon that she overlooked a flight of Wyverns diving upon her from behind. The warning that could have saved her fell on ears blinded by bloodlust.
"Tennessee!"
"Augh… Not again…!" Her rigging blackened and inert, the battleship fought to keep what consciousness she had left but quickly found Geofon upon her, eager to finish the job. Her blade was already raised and only by a timely intervention by the slimmest of seconds from Kestrel, Buzzard, and Ark Royal did Tennessee slip from death's grasp.
The three carriers confronted Geofon as one, but even together they knew all too well that they stood alone. The revelation was shared - and relished by Geofon who stalked them. Four ships out of the picture, she hounded the rest of the allies with renewed hunger.
Four down, three to go. The outcome was within reach; inevitable. She could reach it just as easily as she could reach her foes. It made her feel ecstatic, this swelling; it-
Then Geofon felt it. Once again, within her.
A striking sense of pain. She remembered it all too well.
It was time.
Her radio squawked on que. "Nu, you're out of time! Retreat now before it's too late!"
Her gut stabbed with pain, Geofon made no objections to withdraw. To be this close yet to be denied the pleasure of victory was felt even by her. One would even be frustrated, to curse the unfortunate timing of having victory fall in the jaws of defeat.
But to her, all she could curse was the oncoming agony that made its way through her body.
She ran posthaste back towards Megalith, the same wings that made her fearsome in battle now employed to run from one.
Geofon skimmed over the waves, practically flying by, the body of water insignificant as the fortress crept within her reach. But no matter how fast she moved, the pain shot through her nerves faster. Just as it did in Farbanti, Geofon felt shockwaves throughout her body, jolting, frying her senses. She gritted her teeth, focusing only on returning to base where the Beowulves would recover her-
Then Geofon collapsed, brought low by a mortal wound that came from inside. She broke composure, gasping and stumbling. She put pressure on the invisible wound but the placebo proved ineffectual. The Wyvern armor inflicted its wounds everywhere.
All she could think about was to stay moving. Each second, closer to the fortress.
Like a murderer, she felt it stab into her again and again and again. Her body steadily becoming paralyzed one by one, like a ruthless stratagem. Her body grew heavier, weaker. Like her flesh was being torn out and replaced with lead.
It was too sudden, happening too quickly Geofon realized. This wasn't right.
This wasn't as planned!
Missiles began raining on her from the rear but she was hardly aware of them, their stings muted against the armor that both protected her and was killing her.
Geofon limped onward until a blow tripped her up. Weighed down by her throes, Geofon had unwittingly become a viable target. She groaned, seething as she struggled to remain on her feet, ignorant of the Swordfishes that circled above her like scavengers.
She lifted herself back up but a sharp stab kicked her back down. Geofon tried to power through but found her leg unwilling. The burning wound quickly grew into an uncontrollable conflagration.
It burned her, swallowed her up, leaving nothing untouched. It incinerated her senses, devouring the carrier in the depths of hell. Left to fall, Geofon had no way to climb back out. Her fate was sealed.
The agony was as she recalled. But there was no mercy in the familiarity. The way the Wyvern armor clung to her with its torment. Worse than any outside for, it gnawed her, eating her away from the inside. She could feel her own body evaporate and dissipate, to shatter into a million pieces before becoming undone into nothingness. Geofon wanted nothing more than to peel it away, to get it off.
To get it off. Get it off.
GET IT OFF!
Her fingers swarmed over her exterior, fanatically seeking any hold to ply onto despite being seized with torment. The armor refused to budge but the carrier's hands remained persistent. Driven by desperation, they had no mind to guide them, for the armor had seen to that - this was all primal. Deprived of discipline, rationality, and soon her own life, base instinct was all she had left.
If there was any screaming, then Geofon was deaf to it for it already rang within her mind.
As loud as she wanted it to be, she could not drown out the pain.
Geofon wasn't sure if she could even scream anymore, if at all; she felt her lungs scorched. Her throat grew livid and hot as did her own blood and bile. She vaguely registered the sea turning dark red.
Then her hands ceased their autonomous frenzy. Their zeal had finally run dry as did her strength. She could no longer resist even if she could; she was too far gone. The excruciating torture continued.
Then, in the vestiges of her consciousness, Geofon's vision began fading to white; the world became brighter. What spark that lingered in her mind questioned if this was it. She had only heard myths and anecdotes, wondering if this was what it was like to finally be at peace.
The brightness enveloped her surroundings, unaware of the coming heat, unaware of the oncoming meteor that would, in an instant, send Geofon to one last hell in a single violent moment.
And then her vision smashed to black and she suffered no more.
The remaining allied ships could only flinch before the tremorous impact, bracing the winds, sprays and heat with weariness. When the storm subsided, they stared at the nothingness in horror. The nothingness where their formidable foe Geofon once was, save for unrecognizable pieces of the Wyvern armor she wore.
They had survived, but only by the skin of fortuitous circumstances they had not yet understood. Once at Geofon's mercy, the sudden turn of events left them uncertain. She was their enemy but it was not be their hand that killed her. Witnessing it all… everyone could only gaze on, helpless to interfere in Geofon's horrifying fate.
Whatever the case, they hoped that the crashing meteor was painless by comparison.
But alas, the falling rocks would remain merciless to all else. Even as a radical turn of events or a momentous fate had just played out, the sky continued to rain fire upon them. There was no moment to console, celebrate, comprehend, or even mourn. Even without the indomitable carrier to haunt them, all lives remained at stake.
Tennessee restrained a snarl as she found herself helped up by Kestrel. "Are you okay?"
"I'll live…" Tennessee grunted as she attempted to stand. "But we've got bigger problems right now."
Buzzard knew all too well what she meant. "Tell me something I don't know. Three of ours down for the count and just as many wounded. Andromeda, has Fort Grace neutralized the generator yet?"
"Lost contact with her in all the energy readings within Megalith," the intelligence ship solemnly answered. "Whatever's happening inside, it's quickly becoming unstable."
The elder Federation carrier looked intrigued. "The reactor… are you saying it'll go critical?!"
"No telling for sure what'll happen once it does. I suggest clearing out if you can!"
Buzzard wasted no time following the suggestion. "All ships, prepare to withdraw! Make sure to bring all the wounded with you."
Heeding the order, Sheffield promptly went to work lifting the still-unconscious Cleveland by her shoulders before she was swiftly joined by Montpelier. Her sisters followed suit, seeking and escorting their fallen, their work terse and brisk under the stare of the falling sky.
Kestrel watched as Buzzard went to work securing the closest of their injured. She turned back to Tennessee, only for the battleship to nudge her aside. "I can take care of myself. Worry about the others."
The carrier conceded with a nod. She sought out a nearby ship in need, helping Edinburgh and Denver with towing Vulture. She worked readily but as she did Kestrel's mind wandered elsewhere.
The tables had turned; the tides were shifting. Yet the breeze still held danger. The winds could blow either way and with them carry the outcome.
But if there was one reason Kestrel had to be hopeful, this was it.
A strange sense wormed within Tanager as she approached Fort Grace. The carrier lay defeated, rendered harmless even as she took step after step. But rather than hurry to her, she marched methodically, almost in deliberation. Her eyes never deviated from her opponent, her still form burning into her memory. No words were uttered, no feelings expressed to disturb the moment as it too swelled within Tanager.
However, the chamber was anything but silent. The building foundations, bloodied as Fort Grace was, cracked and audibly buckled. Pieces of the ceiling fell like flakes. Steam hissed from bulging pipes and wires, their limits reached. Machinery that had remained intact found themselves killed from the stress of the aftermath, sparks spraying as they did. Electrical arcs broke loose, free from their restraints. Soon, the air that was home to smoke and burnt powder grew thicker as fires broke out. Already the air became thicker and suffocating.
"T-Tanager, do you read?! The main generator-! It can't-"
In rage, the battleship smashed her radio. Her time was at hand and she would not hear another word to ruin it. She would not allow anything to desecrate her perseverance.
She was upon the Delta carrier now as she slowly began to stir. Her hands were upon her in flash, snatching up Fort Grace from her repose before forcing her to confront the nightmare right before her face.
"Your epitaph, deliver it," Tanager commanded, every gun in her rigging enforcing her demand with their stares.
Staring down death, Fort Grace mustered what strength she could to shoot back a defiant glare. Her grip on Tanager's hands tightened.
"... You lose."
In an unexpected move, she embraced the battleship, turning Tanager's grip into her own. Then with a roar, the carrier delivered the last remnants of her strength in flipping her over, throwing Tanager off her feet to the side. She was lifted only a meager distance, the gain underwhelming for the effort made. But what was pivotal was where Tanager found herself on.
She fell on her back, her rigging protrusions stabbing into her spine with uncomfortable vexation. But it was not long until her senses were quickly alight, her nerves aflame. The sensation swept through Tanager's body, seizing it in an instant. Her body and rigging was made not her own as electrifying fire drowned out her mind. The only agency Tanager was given was agony.
Fort Grace watched in silence as the rampaging current ran through her foe, the electricity sparking almost in joy at a new element to run through. Tanager's form and rigging twitched and convulsed as the shocks did their work. The morbid show went on for what seemed like a minute until the current now had their fill of satisfaction, letting go of their victim like strings snipped from a marionette.
Even with the torture ended, Tanager remained paralyzed. Faint wisps of smoke emanated from her voltage-charred form. Her slow writhing and hissing groans were proof that the Aegir Fleet queen still clung to life and how she was slowly but painfully regaining consciousness. But even alive, it was clear who the victor was.
Fort Grace stood over her, panting but alive. Both ships found their fortunes changed and places reversed: the tables had turned.
A clamorous explosion. Panels fell as did the support beams that made up the inner skeleton of Megalith. The facility began shaking and immediately the discordant throes intensified.
There was little time left.
"Grh… You…"
Fort Grace acknowledged Tanager's slow coming to with disappointment. "You gave me no choice. You sought to destroy us all. This war should've ended back at Farbanti, when you could still have a Kingdom. None of this would have been necessary."
As Tanager tried to sit up, her body aching and rigid in pain, her pained groans and hisses turned to bitter curses. Fort Grace slowly stepped away but she was not alarmed.
"But from the way the main generator's been wrecked, only one of us has a chance of getting out of here alive."
Lifting her head up, Tanager instantly curled her face in rage at the sight of her victorious nemesis. Fangs bared, she beheld the carrier with animalistic hatred. "I won't perish…Not alone…! You will be buried so completely that the earth will turn over a thousand times before your body could be dug up!"
Her rigging ached and limped, her guns swiveling into firing position as one last command from their queen. But as they acquired their target, sparks and jolts flickered across her turrets. The cannons remained silent, offering Fort Grace their intense stares and Tanager abject indignation.
Tanager shook with rage. Her panting came as breathless gasps. Whether she was feeling fear was uncertain as Tanager's eyes continued to burn brightly with loathing. "... Why won't you finalize it here? Cut off the head of the architect of all your misery? Have you not finally defeated me as you so incessantly crave?!"
Fort Grace paused, as if to consider her words. But it was not long until she turned away. "I didn't defeat you - you only have yourself to blame. I'm sorry about what will happen to the rest of your fleet… I hope you are too."
Chunks of the ceiling collapsed around them, the canopy peeled away to reveal the greater realm above. It too was deteriorating, the orderly chamber already devolved into chaos as gaps and voids filled the ceiling. The glowing core, once a stable star, was swelling into a volatile supernova. Broken free of its original restraints, the only thing left to constrain it was the crumbling room.
Fort Grace searched quickly for an exit but found only ruin around her. But amid the wreckage, a plausible idea dawned on her. She raised her rigging, all too glad to see it remained functional.
She wasn't even sure if it would work.
Well, one way to find out.
Klaxons and alarms blared and screamed loud and cacophonously. But as urgent a message they brought, Beowulf π and v were starting to view them as obnoxious pests.
They had already heeded their warning, for quite some time in fact. But there was nothing they could do.
Beowulf π went frantic on the console, but her face grew more pale by the second. "Oh no, oh no, it's no use! The reactor's already gone past the limit! We can't reverse the unsustained fusion!"
Her assistant could barely hold herself together as she shared the ongoing catastrophe with π. "We're- we're too late, nu! W-w-we're- oh god, we're all going to die…"
The control room rocked violently, sending sparks and loose furniture everywhere. Their many eyes became disrupted, the monitors' lives been snuffed out one after another as they drowned in static. What displays remained barely alive all told the two submarines the same ominous warning.
Megalith's death was imminent and so would all of its occupants.
The tremor had uprooted Beowulf v from her seat. Body covered in bruises, she tried to clamber back up but found her legs unwilling. They trembled, unable to stand.
The submarine sobbed as the room broke apart around her but it was not long until a hand yanked her up. "Come on!"
Beowulf v said nothing as she ran after her friend, their hands locked.
Elsewhere, the fortress's death throes were witnessed. Deep in the main passageway, the Aegir destroyers were in tumult.
Beluga dove from under the collapsing ceiling. "SHIVER ME TIMBERS! This place be rocking too much for me liking!"
"AHH! It's the end! It's nigh, it's nigh!" screamed Taisch. "I did not foresee this! I regret everything, I regret everything I've ever done!"
Kolga looked with wide eyes. "We've got to get out of here!"
"Freedom, freedom!" Fenris yelped as she threw herself on a ruined wall, desperate to dig her way through. She was joined by Thiassi but even their combined frenzy yielded no progress.
Herne scanned like crazy for a possible way out, but in a domain of corridors, the concrete walls and metal gates that surrounded them served not as guides but as perils. Soon, rubble and refuse clogged the waterways, choking the openings.
They were caught in a death trap.
She remained frozen in place. Her breaths came faint. She could feel her heart thump in her chest, ballooning within her.
A pair of hands latched onto her and Herne looked down to see Lazuli, tears flowing down her face in hysterical fright. "H-h-help me!"
Her hands pulled down on the sniper but Herne did not react in kind. Every instinct within her yelled for her to run, to flee, to do anything. Anything but being anchored in place. "G-get off me!"
She wrested but the blue-haired destroyer clung to her. "I-I-I don't wanna die! I DON'T WANNA DIE!"
"No no NOO!"
Another tremor and fractures won out. Like shattered glass, the dam had burst and a deluge of slab and steel was unleashed. Sounds of a roaring earth flooded the senses and the world vanished in white as the destroyers choked in ash and soot, dust and smoke.
And then there was nothing.
Flaming wreckage continued to rain from the ceiling. The walls crumbled, having long given in. Rested in the center as it always had, the hazardous core glowed victorious, swelling and growing as it consumed its surroundings. The more it grew, the more violent and precarious it became; a stewing red took the place of placid blue. Light of blood filled the chamber.
In spite of all this, Tanager scoffed.
"I didn't defeat you - you only have yourself to blame."
"... Do I? I, for serving the Rose Kingdom? For pursuing our interests? For defying the predicaments set out before us?
"You speak the language of hypocrites. To inflict us with deceit and hiding behind honeyed words and tired morality. And when we saw through your lies you turned to cowardice. You still held yourself above us with your illusion of justice, unaware of the torment you've levied against us, unaware that you too desired power! Without power, your wretched alliance would not have survived! Without drive, you would not have proven the conductor of my anguish! You and your accomplices have only proven yourselves unwitting. You deny yourself the truth whereas I wear it as my crown!
"You're correct about one thing: you have not defeated me. You have not won! I have lost nothing, not my crown, not even my Kingdom! Not even my ambitions, my drive! I have lost nothing, whereas you shall lose everything! Your homes, your decrepit ideals, your very livelihoods that I despise! Even the very world outside! From the very fiber of my soul and depths of my accord, I will HATE them all! Your Delta Coalition, the Silver Star Federation, this Azur Lane of yours, EVERYONE! I will shatter their dreams and haunt their nightmares, THIS I VOW! I WILL EMERGE TRIUMPHANT, EVEN IF I MUST LET GO OF MY LIFE!
"Do you hear me? Do you hear my words, Fort Grace?!
"FORT GRACE!"
The core grew, until it could grow no more. Its hunger insatiable, it turned on itself. The unstable concoction had surpassed its climax - it had reached the end of its cycle.
Megalith's heart beat for the last time before a bright flash enveloped the chamber.
The explosions were unmistakable.
On the horizon, all could hear and see it. The once black mound that was the dark fortress of Megalith erupted in bright flames. The impenetrable armor which had oppressed the allied attacks and barely withstood the falling sky now withered as its death knell came from within. Echoes of detonation rang out to prelude a geyser of spectacular fire from the center. Glowing almost like the sun with one last dying roar riding the gales, it was the last note of the grand finale before the whole complex collapsed. Sinking beneath the waves, nary a ruin remained to mark Megalith's grave.
Only when the silence proved deafening did they finally breathe. Lowering her guard, Kestrel gaped at the nothingness in stunned silence. "Is- is this…?"
"It is," Buzzard answered, relief imbued in her voice. "We did it. Megalith's destroyed."
"All signals dead," reported Andromeda. "With a meltdown like that, nothing should've survived…"
Tea Time's head shot up in worry. "Wait, what about Fort Grace? Did she…?!"
All eyes scanned the horizon, eager to spot the distant figure of the last carrier. They searched, hoping to catch sight of a dress in blue or the distinct silhouette of her rigging. They looked, hoping to find evidence of hope, to prove it existed.
But they found only void. Like Megalith, Fort Grace was nowhere to be seen.
The ships all stared in silence. As much as they found it hard to swallow, the bitter truth laid before their eyes.
That is, until Andromeda cried out over the radio.
"There she is! I've got Fort Grace on radar!"
The atmosphere shifted. Instantly the illusion was shattered and from it, the tide of faith surged forth. True to the intelligence vessel's words, a friendly dot stood alone away from the rest, where Megalith once was. Galvanized eyes returned in search of the carrier.
"W-where is she?" Columbia asked.
"Up there!"
Turning skyward, they all saw the gray sky. But it was now unrecognizable: where there were gloomy clouds, there was now light; where there were falling stars, only golden rays came down.
And among them stood an oddity. But as peculiar as the sight was, there was no mistaking it. It was her, in the flesh.
Fort Grace was safe, alive, and currently dangling from the tail of her own F-4 Phantom, its small stature unable to seat its owner but proving more than able at carrying her weight, even if the arrangement was less than ideal.
"I-is she all right?" asked Andromeda.
"Yes, she's fine! We've got a visual on her right now!"
The allied armada ran ahead as she approached, descending low until she let go, coming back home with a graceful landing to a triumphant encore.
"You did it! Holy cow you did it!"
"Can't believe it… You really are something!"
"I'm surprised that even worked!"
"Your Grace!"
The Delta carrier found herself embraced by Tea Time, to the smiles and relief of everyone around her. Montpelier and her fellow knights cheered and hollered praise; the Royal Navy ships, for all their restraint, found themselves drawn in to their peers' spirits; like them, Buzzard could not hold back her grins, coming off more as sheepish as she tried to control herself. Even their wounded were coming to, finding themselves swept up in the celebrations.
Kestrel looked on to the scene with fondness before turning back to the skyline. The breeze blew more naturally, the sea subsiding more peacefully. The heavens returned to placidity. Clouds were breaking up; the sun was prevailing.
"Is it finally over?... Have we now won the war?"
Fort Grace followed her gaze, her spirits assuaged coming to the same conclusions as Kestrel. "I worry that war as a whole will not end, so long as there is light and darkness. Where one war ends, another may begin. Only history can determine who has truly won in the end. But there is one thing I can say for certain…
"This war is over. We've just seen to it. And now we're going home."
The monotone sea waved gently. With the calamity thwarted, the oceans could now sleep soundly. Sounds of war had long faded, allowing the silent singing of the waves to reign.
Suddenly, a head popped from the waves to perturb the sanctity. She breathed heavily, signs of exhaustion written on her face. Then another head emerged, sighing heavily as she did.
"We… we made it," Beowulf π panted.
"Nu, we did…" Turning to her companion, Beowulf π caught Beowulf v looking back behind her, her eyes downcast. She followed her gaze, finding it difficult to believe that it was all gone: the fortress, their work, their comrades…
π drew close to her assistant before any tears could be shed. She held her tight and their feelings became one and the same. The oceans had already been drenched with their sorrow and there would still be more to come.
"W-what should we do…?" Beowulf v cried.
Beowulf π stared blankly into space, unable to find the answer. "I don't know."
"Then perhaps… you can accompany us?"
The two submarines whirled around to find themselves suddenly in the company of the Sirens. Their former benefactor, the woman in gray, stood over them, her shadow now draped on top of the pair.
Beowulf π withered from her presence. "Y-you?"
"Yes, me," the woman smiled. "And us too. You have not forgotten us, have you?"
The submarine still eyed her and her kin with suspicion. "What is it you want? Here to tell us the obvious? Try to sell us another weapon? We're through! It's all gone! It's all over!"
"All the more reason why we are here," the woman purred. She allowed Beowulf π to hesitate before continuing. "It is indeed all gone: your cause, your nation, your compatriots, even your precious queen. But not everything has vanished. Not everything is lost…
"We too are without a home, no identity to place on a map… We lack even a past yet we are still one with the world. We do not possess a flag, but rather an idea. A universal purpose.
"You may question our intent, what we have in store… but we are more alike than you think. Do not think we have not been watching your activities with interest, I especially. Your endeavors have certainly… caught our interests. We can offer you a refuge… to do as you please. Perhaps you may even avenge your kingdom…
"You have every reason not to trust me… But your options are limited."
Beowulf π sat in silence. She exchanged unsure looks with Beowulf v before glancing back at the woman. Her gentle smile remained a persistent illusion.
She and her friend had little reason to entrust themselves to the woman and those aliens, the very ones who provided the spark to the chain reaction. The ones who caused their reason to be where they are now.
But as much as they tried, neither of the two could conjure returning to the Rose Kingdom. Its flag was no longer theirs, now appropriated by their enemies who would no doubt try them for their crimes.
The life they knew was gone forever.
Beowulf π shut her eyes in unpleasant consideration before she finally cemented their decision - hers and Beowulf v's. "... Fine. I guess we're friends now."
The woman straightened up, her face all bright. "Wonderful. Now let us depart. Your enemies are still close by…"
Turning to leave, the submarines followed in her wake. They passed by the other Sirens, all faces familiar to them. Observer Alpha, Tester Beta, Purifier, and…
Beowulf v stopped in acknowledgement of another guest. "W-who's she?"
"An… acquaintance of mine," the gray woman answered. "We'll make introductions in due time. You and your friend will have all the time in the world to be comfortable…
"After all, there is much to be done."
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
HistoricHippos:
It's been a while, hasn't it? (Again.) The work's been grueling with progress going on and off and I honestly don't know if the quality's been consistent, but it is finally done. I guess having ideas on how the events will unfold is nothing compared to the reality of tying it all together.
On a sidenote, I suppose I should mention that this fic operates on the idea that fighter planes launched from aircraft carriers are miniaturized, scaled according to the shipgirls (or "kansen" as I am now more familiar with the lore) that launched them. Back then I wasn't sure about having full-sized warships transform into rigging as was in the original AL anime and thus I wasn't on board with the idea of having full-sized airplanes flying around (not to mention the headache that would be in attempting to justify and keep consistent the scaling issue). This would of course deny any moment of a character riding on top of a plane but in this instance with Fort Grace's escape, I decided to make it an exception (even though she would be hanging from under it). But don't expect this to be the norm going forward, or at least used often from now on.
With that said, I hope you've enjoyed the story thus far as the "War of the Roses" story arc comes to an end. But not yet. There's a little epilogue I'd like to throw in after this.
And with that, stayed tuned!