Waves push me down. Throwing my body around the hull. Slamming my body against the steel floor, pulling me down. Blasts of water threaten to crush my limbs. Scattering my being.

I claw the floor.

Nails dig deep, red and raw. Clamming for anything.

Wall, railing, anything. Going on all fours, I crawl against the crashing waves.

Down. Down. Down.

Side to side. Down.

Spinning, I'm shoved up against the wall. Vertigo making my stomach churn. Vomit escaping my lips and spewing in chunks.

Voices creep around my neck. There is...a thing pressing under my clothes and on my shoulders. Brushing against my skin with serrated spikes. Tingling the hairs and raking my flesh. Pain. Feeling like wires shoved through the gaping wounds to scrape across my bone and muscle.

Stings, stings, stings.

Hands. Fingers grab my shoulders and arms. Heart thumping and lungs screaming, I fight back. Only to be overpowered and dragged by my neck. Choking, screaming.

Rolling off the bed, I wake to the carpeted for. Doubly hitting my head harder than I wanted in shock. Shoving a yell into my throat, I swallow the pain away in dry discomfort. Nose throbbing with pain, pressed down. Untangling myself in the dark, I remove the sheet and blanket contorting my limbs. The nightmare still fresh in my memory. Crawling up, I grab for the bedside lamp.

Failing to turn it on once, twice, I slammed a fist the third time. Making it work. Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I pat the table until I feel the familiar tip of a pen and the binding of a book. My journal. Shaking my head, and going against the blinding light, I kneel before my nightstand. Ruffling through the pages, I flip to the most recent entry.

Scribbling down what I had dreamed in my nightmare. Putting down a scrawling, I flip to the next page. Closing my eyes, I remember the creature's face. The one dragging me and tossing me. Sketching the creature's rough exterior and description before my memory disappeared. Minutes pass after I finish, then I close the book and toss it.

Sitting down, I push my back against my bedside. Holding my head between my hands and cradling it. Heart racing and muscles throbbing. I shake my head side to side, shuddering. Clarity clears up my senses and the pains in my head and chest are whisked away. Tasting the dryness in my mouth, I force myself onto my feet.

I don't bother knowing the time. My dark window is enough.

Still groggy, I open up the book. Flipping past the other malformations and chicken scratch writing. Each nightmare increasingly grotesque and dark. One or two nightmares are less bloody and terror inducing, being the ones from when Mainz and Friedrich forced me to bed. All shared one distinction – blond hair.

Typical night.

Time to get to work.

Steadily walking up to the docks, I scan the sand bars and steel platforms. Hidden from Azur Lane forces and Siren fleets, the base had to make do with an intricate system of cloaking devices and natural barriers. Stripped from Mirror Sea expeditions and older Siren tech washing ashore. Reverse engineering their technology was a true challenge, making them not break down over time is daunting.

After reading Peter Strasser's samples on her research, I'm intrigued. She may be able to bring back projects lost in the early stages of the war. Within the fleet, it is an open secret in the Crimson Axis for most girls to be participants in research. More science minded girls on the island, such as U-73, tend to head projects. Hypothesize new experiments and make great gains. Overall, the rest help test prototypes as volunteers, within ethical bounds of course.

Unlike before…

"There we go." My hand left that last switch, the low humming of hidden electrical engines turning on. I peek at my watch and wait for the next fifteen minutes. Clicking sounds reverberate through the machinery. Croaking back to life, I step back from the array crackling sparks into the air. Closing up the power station, I head outside. Catching a glimpse of the sun trying to claw its way through the clouds.

Already outside my front door, I perk up. Years out at sea and watching for Sirens, a sense for threats and surprises come my way. Feeling low humming and hearing scraping metal, I spin around. Confronting this coming hulking beast.

Immediately greeted by a rather fast-moving pair of metal jaws. Bigger than most animals and stretching the length of a car. Yellow eyes blink, signifying the sentient creature interest for me. Levitating through technology beyond my understanding, it moves fluidly through a bush and onto the sidewalk. Red and grey metals mechanically click to compensate the smaller turrets attached to the body. Larger turrets flow with their barrels pointing away from my direction.

Plopping down on the ground before me is a rubber ball. Coated in thin traces of oil residue is an added thick layer of spit. Slimy and smells like seawater. Metal scrapes against the ground. Lowering himself like a dog wanting to play. Amusing me with heavy pants and mimicked barks.

Cute.

"Hey, Eisen," I pick up the ball with both hands. Using my pants, I wipe the bit of 'saliva' or what passes as spit for a sentient rigging. "Go get it!"

I throw the ball as far as I can down the path. Eisen turns slinks away, happily chasing the ball. I did this a number of times, even petting the rigging's head while trying to avoid catching my fingers in its sharpened maw. Rubbing his red chassis and the turrets sticking out of his back. Granted, I had to be careful of the barrels.

Although I thoroughly enjoyed the situation, it occurred to me there was something absent from her duties. The particular owner that gives this thing life.

"Hey, Kommadant!"

And there is the owner. Running up to me is one of the cruisers. Her long-braided hair well below her waist. Clothes trying desperately to conceal half of her breasts. A wonder that I cannot and do not understand.

Thinking back about Wisdom Cube technology, I really do wonder what goes through people's heads when we bring these girls to life.

She stops to greet me with her wide smile. Her unique personality is rare in the fleet together with her chirper behavior. Such a ray of sunshine compared to the normally somber Iron Blood fleet.

"Good morning, Heinrich."

Before she could respond, Eisen quickly comes back to us. Ball in jaw as it drops it again at my feet. Without a beat, I pick it back up and throw it further. This time closer to the shore. Which the mechanical beast playfully runs after.

"Looks like Eisen got a new layer of paint." I muse, watching the aforementioned beast try to find where the ball rolled to, "He looks happy about it. So much energy."

"Hmm-hmm~! He's my Eisen~! He's been stuck inside the warehouse all day and as soon as Hipper was done he went right out."

I chuckle at the thought, "Enjoying life quite like his owner."

The cruiser giggles, "Looks like you're having a lot of fun with him, too."

"Putting it lightly for a giant levitating metal fish."

She motioned towards the bit of saliva on my pants. It shined enough against my black clothes that anyone can notice it from up close.

"Sorry, Herr Kommadant."

"Bah, I don't mind. Besides, he's a lot like another rigging I used to know."

Eisen slinks back and gives me the ball. This time, Heinrich beckons him to her. Understanding the command, the rigging floats behind her back, taking position. Several mechanical sockets click. Extensions come off of Eisen's body, attaching to Heinrich's back. Integrating itself back into her very being. She pets him lovingly before she waves her hand around the jaw and head. Eisen's life dims as the eyes went from burning yellow, to warm orange, and then blank.

With that, Eisen disappears, converting into energy. Which is then absorbed back into the cruiser's body. Heinrich stretches and rubs the back of her shoulders.

"Ahh~ much better! I love Eisen, but it can be such a pain in my back. Always making me sore."

"I can't imagine," I lie effortlessly, knowing the meaning would be lost to her.

"Believe me, Kommadant," She pops her back, seizing through clenching teeth before gasping in relief, "Wearing tons of metal on a daily basis drains a ship girl. Even me."

I straighten my clothes, swatting away anymore leftover spit, "Anyways, I'm glad I ran into you. Stop me if this is too personal, but there is a very worrying topic I needed to know about."

She leans in closer, "I'll bite! What's up?"

"You and Peter Strasser are close right?"

"Mhmm!~" She chirps, "She was my teacher. Strasser was there for me! Taught me all I know!"

Unknown to me, her face turns red. Heinrich looks to the side, "Eheh, at least tried."

"You do well," I shake my head, unsure of how to react, "Anyways…I need you to do something for me…"

"I need someone to be my temporary secretary."

Heinrich pouts, "Huh? Wait, me?"

"Just for today," I reassure her with a head pat, "Normally, I would ask Odin, but she's out helping Hipper with preparing the workshop for maintenance. Everyone else is off on their own missions. Just today. You don't have to worry about paperwork. I can handle it."

"Oh," she puts a finger near her chin, thinking, "Wait, isn't Graf Zeppelin helping you? What's going on with her."

"She's…" Trailing away, conjuring a better excuse, "Unwell. Called in."

Heinrich catches the hint, "She looked fine to me…Weird, I thought I saw her earlier talking to Friedrich."

"What?" Whatever I was going to say gets caught up, "At the dorms?"

"Yeah," she says innocently, "I was outside taking oil drums to storehouse when I saw them talking."

"What did you hear?"

"Dunno," she shrugs, "Sounded really bad though, so I guess I can see how Graf Zeppelin could be sick."

Drats, at least I tried. Heinrich sticks to her guns. She doesn't strike me as the type for eavesdropping, "Regardless of whatever circumstances, she's not available for today. I just need you to head to the port with me to wait for Peter Strasser and the fleet's arrival. All you have to do is help me direct them to their dorms."

"Oki dokie!" Heinrich chirps, "Sounds easy!"

"Thanks," I nod, patting her head gently, "Anyways, they should be arriving soon. I need to finish up some last-minute business before I head over. Wait for me at the docks alright?"

"You got it~! See you in a bit, Kommadant!"

Nodding my head, I speed up my pace. If I'm going to make it to Heinrich in time, I'll need to hurry up to the mess to pick up something…

I entered the dorms. Nodding my head to U-47, who was sitting in the commons room by herself reading a book. Stopping before I turn towards a mess of hallways, I call out to the u-boat. Normally not a person who spends her time in public space. Must be taking advantage of the lack of personnel on base at the moment. Couldn't hurt to ask her for direction.

"Graf Zeppelin's room?"

U-47 lowers her book and thinks for a moment.

"Left hallway. First right. Last one at the end of the hall."

"Thanks, U-47." I peek at the book's cover, "Moby Dick…"

"Half-way." Half-explaining, half mumbling, "No spoilers."

"Wasn't going to try, hope you enjoy it."

She gives me a thumbs up, staying glued to her novel.

Walking down the nearly empty hallways, I follow her instructions. Walking through hallways until I stop before what I assumed is her room. Checking for any spectators, I made sure I don't knock on the wrong door. I don't usually come to the dorms. Rarely unless I'm invited. Anxiety heightens with the timetable and schedule I need to keep.

Stopping by an open door, I look inside. Its not far from what I assumed is Graf Zeppelin's. This must be Strasser's room. It's a lot closer then I thought…keeping this in mind, I move on to my destination.

Knuckles rapt against the door. Two slow knocks. Ear tipping towards the door, I search for any sign of movement. Hearing nothing, I give one more try. Whispering through the door crack.

"Zeppelin? Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

When Friedrich sent me the text about Graf Zeppelin's condition, it instantly tipped me off. Mother always was one to call instead of text, even if it is for a brief greeting or message. So naturally…I knew this is important. Unfortunately, since she's busy organizing and handling sorties and exercises, her schedule didn't let up for her to see me personally. One sentence is all she needs to tip me off.

'Graf Zeppelin is sick today.'

After thinking about her, I remember our interaction last night. Hints here and there. Tired as I may be, the nightmare from last night being raw, I jog whatever conversation we've had. Picking out little notes here and there with anything. Wracking my mind for any previous hints I may have missed in our days together.

"Graf Zeppelin," I say again, pushing through tunneling vision. Rubbing my eyes, I wait more.

Nothing, again. Brown paper bag in one hand. Contents inside lay a container of chicken broth mixed with spices. Hastily prepared according to my best. I'm not the best cook, nor will I ever claim to be one. Granted, I know the girls have food in their dorms to prepare for themselves. Follow the recipes on the instructions is all I need.

I'm distracting myself. Being torn between work and care, I already know which one I picked the moment I read the text. Graf Zeppelin, as much as everyone else, knows an undeniable truth about themselves. Kansen don't get sick, not like humans. Truth be told, she's in here because of more interpersonal problems then physical. My guess…it's a grudge with Strasser.

Five more minutes pass, I hear thumps on the floor. Holding my breath, I lean in more. She's close. To door, I'm not sure. Still not a single word or peep.

Checking my wristwatch once more, time is ticking down. I knock for the third time.

"Zeppelin? It's Rene. Friedrich told me you're sick."

Expecting her not to say anything, I close my eyes and say my piece.

"I don't know what's going. You don't have to explain anything to me. And I'm not going to ask. You take the time you need in there."

I pull my cap down while tugging on my collar. Nervousness wins out. I'm not good at comforting people. Being a commander means I watch over my fleet, attending to the needs and helping those in my fleet. However, I'm not the best with handling emotions. Leaving me less qualified helping others.

Stopping myself from brushing my knuckles against the door for the third time, I see shadows shift behind the door. Holding my breath, I resolve myself by setting the bag on the floor at the door.

"I'm going to leave this here," I mumble, "I don't know if you like this. Its chicken soup…helps with colds…get well soon, Zeppelin."

Stepping back, I turn away from the door. Walking down the hall, I turn the corner and wait. Pressing my body as close to the wall as possible. Nothing occurs for two or maybe three moments, until I hear a door open up. Creaking wood stops, followed by crinkling sounds of the paper bag. Audible sound of clicking locks come and pass. Peeking over the side, the bag is nowhere to be seen.

Hurrying off, I can only hope she's okay.

Mainz and Odin intercepted the fleet. Sharing brief greetings and setting off to unload the cargo. Transport ships dock alongside hulls of their escorts. I recognized most of the fleet, girls who were originally assigned to my command being given over to Kiel or Wilhelmshaven. The ships that led them approach me.

Both aircraft carriers, I see one familiar red head. Weser, one of Admiral Hipper's sisters, strode along slowly and methodically. Sure, she takes her time, and she does it with purpose. Similarly, the woman next to her came to me first. Twin tailed black hair trails down her shoulders. Between her fingers, she carries a cross shaped walking cane. Her uniform is a long coat fashioned with the Iron Blood's colors of black, red, and white.

"You must be Peter Strasser, I am Kommadant Rene Weber. I welcome you to my fleet."

Strasser, one hand atop her cane, uses her free hand to salute me.

"Kommadant Weber, Peter Strasser reporting," She politely announces, "Sir."

While saluting her, one stray thought comes. She does not resemble her sister at all. Temperament, the way she dresses, or even the way she looks. Much the same way as Weser, being a carrier among cruisers does have a major impact on appearances. Unlike her companion, Weser waves with a half grin. Ignoring Strasser's incredulous gaze.

"Sup' sir."

"Long time no see, Weser," I greet the familiar carrier, she waves back, "Glad to have you back. I've been wondering how you're doing."

"Sir, we keep over texts." She snorts, her growing smile shows, "It's not like I was completely gone."

"Weekly updates you on your sisters' shenanigans by pictures is not what I call 'keeping in contact'," I shake my head, both of us laughing.

Strasser attempts to ask about what we're saying until Heinrich barrels towards her. Enveloping the carrier in a big bear hug, stunning the carrier in her spot. Forcing Strasser to step back, containing my temporary secretary's energy.

"Strasser~!"

"Heinrich- Please!" She sputters, using a hand to keep her cap on, "I- why do I bother…good to see you again."

"Heheh~ You know me, Strass!"

"I do." Her annoyance fades into smugness, "You know, since I do-"

"-You have been keeping to your studies, right?" Strasser ask pointedly, arching her head in emphasis.

"Uhh," Heinrich breaks away, scooting from her, "Yeah, uh, I have, I think. That's a thing I do."

"Heinrich…"

Smiling lightly, Weser and I watch the duo. Whether it is the fatigue or the light playing with my senses, I feel a nudge at on my side. Jumping a little, Weser holds a manila folder to my attention. Hiding it well, I almost forgot why I wanted to meet with them personally.

"Spacing out there," I notice Weser glancing over her shoulder before continuing in a whisper, "A lot on your mind?"

"You could say that."

My nightmare comes to mind. And all the ones prior to it. Following the same theme and rhythm. Drowning in the rain and being dragged away by some begotten monster. Always feeling the cold and being alone. Begging for somewhere to help me. That sort of thing.

Oh, and keeping Strasser and Graf Zeppelin apart to avoid drama.

"Yeah…a lot."

She pats my back, "I can tell."

I change the subject, holding the folder, "Interesting you'd be the one holding this."

"Strasser figured Heinrich would be here…" Weser starts, then continues under her breath, "Although, I don't think she knows Graf Zeppelin is here. She thinks she's still at Wilhelmshaven."

"Duly noted," I glumly retort, Strasser and Heinrich entering a little conversation of their own, "The same can't be said for her."

"Bad, huh?"

"Yeah," I look her in the eye, feeling a little worried, "Still don't know all the details. Tried to set up a cushion for the two of them. Mainz told me there's some bad blood between them, and Odin confirms this. I'd rather keep their problems away from prying eyes. Heinrich to Strasser and Friedrich to Graf Zeppelin."

"Pair them up with people they can rely on. So…why are you telling me this?" Confusion written on her face, "Don't see what part I play in this…"

"Because I need someone to play chess with me later," I say blankly, Weser raises both her eyes brows, "I've been on edge lately."

Weser steps back, trying to piece together what I'm talking about, "Hope you know what you're doing."

Pleasantries aside, I clear my throat and bubbly cruiser backs away. Both of whom materialized each other's riggings. Heinrich showing off Eisen's new paint and Strasser's carrying what looks like to be luggage.

"Heinrich, could you do me the pleasure of showing Peter Strasser her room." I gesture to the dorms.

"That would be lovely, Herr Kommadant," Strasser motions for her rigging, "I will speak to you about conditions with my research lab tomorrow then, sir? I do believe I need to give my dear rigging maintenance after the trip."

"Certainly," I dryly accept, "Come anytime at seven into the evening. I know the later hours are vague, yet I tend to spend most of my time in the office off and own hours."

"A busy man," she clicks her tongue, "Heinrich, lead the way."

Eisen next to her, Heinrich points at the dorms, "You got it! C'mon Eisen, let's go!"

Streaming away, Strasser follows close behind. Leaving me and a Weser to linger behind. She doesn't even try to walk as she brought her rigging to life. They do carry her luggage, although it's a bunch of bags. Fishing poles sticking out from one of the rigging's jaws. She brought the essentials with her.

"Go on boys, follow them." She commands them, "You know where to find me."

They nod their heads without question, giving me a flashing glare of the eyes then leaving. Their way of showing respect and recognition.

"Don't you want to meet up with your sisters?" I ask, watching two metallic snakes float and slink away, "I think they were pretty excited to see you and Tallinn."

"Tallinn had a rough time in the Northern Parliament this go around. I think being with Hipper and Eugen is enough for her. Being as she's quite the match for both of them," she shakes her head, a thoughtfulness in her tone, "Tallinn wants to spend time with all her sisters…besides I wanted to take my time and get used to the island again."

Weser gives me a strange look, curling her lips up, "One good place to start is with you. And before you ask, would you like to play some chess?"

I chuckle. Smiling for one of the few times today.

"Gladly."

Weser utilizes a playstyle that many loathe in chess. At least from what I've seen.

I wait for her move. Being the white player, I had already begun my assault towards the middle. The aircraft carrier on the other hand, with a black piece in her hand, moved slowly. Going for her usual, a Pirc Defense. Not lazily or methodically, simply…taking her time.

Most people would take this lack of speed as a weakness. She's played enough with Strasser to have decent knowledge. Weser is no chess player, yet. She could be if she hastened her speed in mastering the activities, she finds even an ounce of interest in. Whatever it may be, she solidifies her skills. For Weser understands the learning curve better then anyone I know.

Due to this, Weser's style revolves around being defensive. The main feature being the attrition of time which is the issue I had to consider for this match. Heavy reliance on her bishops and then pulling out her rooks for support.

There is only one other player that uses this strategy. Unlike Weser, he completely mastered the support system of pawns. Interlocking them with his knights to create a devastating counterattack. Instead, Weser turns towards a more drawn-out conventional strategy.

Waiting. And a god-awful amount.

Two moves. Finally. Two pawns forward…no support.

"…Alright, I want to be really honest with you sir."

"Go for it."

"What you're doing is a push and pull. Not letting conflict happen and later stirring it by keeping them apart," She stated, in subtle exasperation, "Your intentions are good. Your methods are not sound."

I made my move. Taking one of the pawns. Weser didn't seem to mind.

"I'm not trying to keep them apart, Weser," I rub my neck, "I guess this is where I tell you where I put Strasser…"

"Please don't tell me," Weser adds after slowly scooting a piece, "Across from her?"

"Nope, near her. I'm not cruel enough to put her across the hall. It would only hasten conflict and make it more difficult for them to reconcile."

"Sir," Weser sighs, leaning her head on her hand, elbow propped near the corner of the board, "Look, Rene, I know you're not exactly the best at conflict resolutions. Yet, from what you told me so far, I really don't like where this is going…"

The honesty stings. Head throbbing, I yawn and make my move. Her bishops pull forward positioning them around the other pawn. Relearning as she goes and not as rusty as I thought.

We went through a few turns. She lazily threw two of her knights towards me, which surprisingly works. Each piece nestles themselves around my pawns. Secure where I can take one with a queen. Retracting the idea, I stop put the queen back in her place. Catching aligned bishops, preparing to snipe whoever decides to take her knights. Plan foiled, I fallback to a previous idea, forming a pawn wedge. Carefully arraying my fodder in the proper positions. Forcing me to maneuver pieces through my line of pawns.

"What else do you want me to do?" Propping both my elbows on the table, "I've tried talking to Graf Zeppelin, but she wouldn't open her door. Friedrich won't tell me anything. Mainz and Odin know little. I don't know Strasser well enough to get information and I doubt Heinrich is privy to their predicament."

"Sir, you're doing it again," Weser deadpans, "I thought Friedrich told you about getting into other people's business. Moreso when you really shouldn't…And the way you do it is like how you play chess. Remember how you tried to help Mainz with her confidence?"

I wince. I remember it. First time Friedrich had to intervene and the one time I tried to avoid her fury. Poor Mainz, she wouldn't speak to me for weeks…

"Yeah," I grumble, taking in the metaphysical jab to my pride, "I'm repeating the past."

"A little late noticing," the red head looks cross with me, "Spill it. What else is happening."

Defeated, at least not in the current game, I reexplain in full detail.

"Friedrich did try to convince me to have her moved further away, but I convinced her by having Heinrich act as an emotional crutch to Strasser. Friedrich would help out Graf Zeppelin. I thought maybe having her nearby would help smooth things over."

After giving her everything I know, she stares off into space. For a while, the carrier fights with herself over an internal problem. Closing her eyes and reopening them, Weser sighs, exasperated, "You wanna hear what's going on, sir?"

"Go ahead."

She takes on a more somber look, "What I do know is, Strasser and Zeppelin lost someone really close to them. The only way I know this is because Strasser would say his name while she's drunk. Describing him as this elderly man who makes clocks and toy planes. He's like Elias, the lighthouse keeper who brought me into this world. Anyways, apparently this old man's death resulted in Strasser despising her sister."

She raises her hands, "And you come along putting them together."

I stay speechless. I've heard about this. People who accidently get their hands on a Wisdom Cube or two. Bringing girls into life because they so happen to have affinity for cubes. Usually elderly people, a group the governments and militaries of the world overlook when combing for candidates. Girls have been discovered, usually forming a close bond or attachment with these people. Pseudo parents.

I rub my forehead, "This is a lot worse than I thought."

"Good, "Weser runs her hand down her face, "I'm not done yet, I still have one more thing to say."

"Sure." I swallow, already feeling worse for wear.

"Stop looking at this like a strategist and schemer. I know you're an excellent planner, a clever commander, but you're no Eugen. You're disrespecting their space," Weser relaxes her shoulders, hardening her glare, "You're a terrible manipulator."

"I…I am?"

"Yeah," Weser's red eyes soften, "Sir, I understand you don't want things to spiral out of control. I get it. Sometimes heated arguments happen between Eugen and Hipper. Her teasing doesn't help and Hipper can get self-conscious about her body. I'm not even going to explain the mess with Tallinn constantly being overseas and Mainz-"

She ponders then shrugs again, "Apart from that situation where you somehow managed to help her, she's the exception here for sibling drama and you. The point is: you need to let things play out naturally. You don't have to set the pieces and prepare it like one of your games."

When I shudder from the realization, Weser softens her tone, "You mean well. I know you. I also understand you overthink problems and want to solve them. You can't help in every situation. On the flip side, don't go butting into their business, even if you're not directly involved, you're setting the stage as a puppet master."

She stops. Continuing our game by making her move on the board. I watch her for a moment and absorb all she said. Slowly thinking about her words and the new information I've been given.

Our game drags out. Successive turns become longer while I try to maneuver through the board. My wedge holds the line. This cannot be said for the attempted assault on her pieces. Playing against Weser is akin to watching a river flow around the rock. Easy to follow the current, hard to fight through it. I pay for my attempts with my bishops.

Later into the game, the wedge crumbles, holding by a thread. My efforts pay off, as whatever strength she has wanes across the field. Weser's pawns are in complete disarray with most taken off the board. Although I lost my two bishops alongside one knight, I made up for it in taking her two bishops in return.

At this point in the game, the aircraft carrier is completely unfazed. I didn't expect her to be too worried. She's simply here to pass the time and I'm here to release stress. A win-win considering the same cannot be said for the current game.

I did think about what she said.

"…you're right," My feelings on the matter spill into my voice, "I think highly of Zeppelin. I don't know why…"

Weser rolls her eyes, "She does spend every evening playing chess with you and you did say you have an interest in understanding her."

"…Yeah, I'm letting my feelings cloud my actions and judgement. The lack of sleep is not helping," Realizing things about myself, "I don't know, Weser…this is going to end badly."

"The inevitable fight between siblings, or your calculating nature results in manipulation, or the fact that you look like you're about to keel over." The carrier scratches her head, "Your actions are going to come back to you."

"All of those and more," I smile ruefully, "On one positive note, I can count on you being observant. I hope I have enough time to-"

Sounds of a buzzing phone come from my pocket. Pausing, I reach in and check the message.

It's from Friedrich.

'Rene, Graf Zeppelin stormed out of the dorms and Heinrich is trying to console Strasser. I'm currently with them. Please go find her.'

Climbing out of my chair. I abandon the game and leave a befuddled Weser. Running out the door.