Amidst the eternal waves of time
From the ripple of change shall the storm rise
Out of the abyss peer the eyes of a demon
Behold the Razgriz, its wings of black sheath

Location: somewhere in the Ceres Ocean, en route to Sand Island

A swift gale that cut eastward. Shadows darting in the heavens. An ocean of steel. Even on a benign day, the bellow of waves crashed loudly, more so than usual.

The Verusan Entente's red fleet was on the march.

At its head, Umely led the armada as it trailed in her wake. The swinging waves of the pristine ocean split apart by her feet, her rigging gliding her over the tides. Twin steel heads flanked by her side, their hulks adorned with tall sharp-edged plates that proudly bore the stag emblem of the Verusan Entente.

If Umely could glance behind her, she would behold the Entente's mighty army. Ships of all types and backgrounds. Fighters prowling the air overhead, the skies already claimed in their name. Comrades granted the honor and privilege of delivering the first decisive strike against their foes.

But for the moment, the Commissary was occupied with fixing her gaze straight ahead, where said foes lay. Somewhere, just on the other side, lay the first sacrificial offering: Sand Island. Umely peered hard in the distance, a determined grimace in search of the enemy and their puny stronghold.

Deep inside, she was already grinning with anticipation.

In her ears, a radio squawked. "Commissary, contacts on radar. Bearing 090, straight from the east."

Communication throughout the voyage had been silent, pertaining to only the most necessary of talk. Only news of importance made through for the essence of secrecy. And to Umely, there was no better news than this.

"They're headed directly for us."

"About time," Umely answered with a sneer. "For the Federation dogs to strike at us, they have been meek and cowardly. They shall be the first to fall before our fury, as will soon the rest of the nation!

"Comrades, surge ahead! The first to draw blood shall be heroes of the Entente! Let your guns sing loud and proud over the hypocrites!"

Proclamation made, Umely and her vanguard sped ahead. Their lessers pushed onward, clambering after their wake; some eager as they were, some unwilling to be mistaken as cowards. The entire Verusan Entente fleet that was many ships strong pushed ahead, confident in their strength against the enemy. Few or many, they would be there.

And there would be plenty of heroism to go around.

Their eyes could make out the dark aura on the horizon even before their radars picked up the first contacts.

Buzzard peered ahead with a serious expression. Cloud-like apparitions dotted the distance even against the sun's glare. An oncoming storm even against nature's own desire of a clear sunny day. Directly to the west, with their home behind them. It called to mind the age-old trick of employing the sun's brilliance to conceal one's approach; an old tradition in the history of aerial dogfights.

This was textbook. There was no mistaking the intent.

She tapped into her comms. "Buzzard here. Visual contact with the enemy confirmed. All ships, maintain course."

Glancing to her side, she made out Kestrel and Enterprise, and her sister Vulture in the distance on the opposite end. Adopting a wide line formation, the carriers were poised to receive the enemy not as a parrying spear but as a casted net.

First big catch of the day, and they were to be the bait.

"Remember, stay cool. Focus on engaging the enemy in front of you."

"Yes," Kestrel acknowledged.

"Here we go everybody," Vulture piped up. "Let's do it with a bang!"

Enterprise steeled her gaze ahead as did her pet as he glided by her side. The shapes ahead began to slowly trickle on the skyline, growing to fill the horizon; then their collective silhouettes stretched more and more. Her field of view began to become occupied by looming figures. Her bow was secured in her hands, ready at a moment's notice.

The enemy count was already formidable. The absurd odds wasn't anything Enterprise was unfamiliar with but they never failed to make her frown stretch wider.

"... Understood. Damn…"

Heads piqued at the sound of Andromeda's voice on the radio. "What's up?"

"Friendly reinforcements will arrive late. Their mobilization was delayed."

The announcement nearly brought all ships to a screeching halt. "What?!"

Against such an offensive, there was little chance it would go smoothly for them even with their skills. The defense called for a methodical approach: quick responders meet the enemy before assistance can arrive to further tie down the foe and plug in gaps. Impede the advance enough for further reinforcements to aid in the defense and repel the invaders, the combined force eventually matching the enemy. Chances of victory rose like the number of ships that would arrive to help, fresh and ready to fight.

But it all hinged on them arriving in time. Without their help…

Buzzard thought quickly. "Withdraw and wait for backup!"

"Withdraw not authorized." Barbet's snapping order came into all ears like a grand commandment. "Gain air superiority at once!"

Vulture quietly cursed at the arrangement of their leader sitting comfortably back at base. "Ugh. So what now? We're kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place here!"

By now, the incoming fleet was steadily bearing down on them. No doubt they already sensed their presence and were moving swiftly for the kill. The sight of approaching birds only confirmed their fears as the sensors warned the Federation ships of imminent radar locks.

Their formation wavered, their courage about to follow suit until a figure shot past them, rocketing towards the enemy fleet with a ferocious wind flowing from her black coat. An eagle's screech accompanied her bold charge.

Vulture cracked a smirk. "Haha! Enterprise's already kicked off the game!"

Kestrel darted off after the Gray Ghost, determined to join her into the breach. "After Enterprise, going in!"

Buzzard could only gape in stunned silence as her two sisters surged ahead. What was seen as a very foolhardy action did not strike the others as so as they pushed ahead, oblivious to the risks that would await them.

… Not like today's engagement was going all according to plan anyways.

"Ma'am, you didn't say there would be a change in the H-hour," she privately protested into the radio.

Barbet scoffed. "Hmph. You mean to tell me that our own decorated veterans won't last for another ten minutes? You have your orders, Buzzard. Carry them out."

"... Wilco over." With quiet resignation, she followed after the rest with full determination to meet the enemy's advance. Her plan, which had relied on timely contributions from all involved, now fell in favor of direct confrontation in the hope that reinforcements before they were overrun. A small group holding back an entire strike fleet, outnumbered presumably four-to-one - five-to-one if she was cynical.

But one never prevailed against the odds with pessimism.

This wasn't the worst plan she's ever went along with, but Buzzard had no intention of backing down. Not when there were sisters and friends to protect.

At the tip of the spear, Enterprise shot ahead at full speed, quickly spying out her first targets. Distant figures danced in the horizon like a haze, but her gaze instantly jumped upwards at the rapidly-approaching specks in the sky. Enterprise didn't waste a nanosecond to recognize the tell-tale smoke trails before she swerved to the side. Missile after missile fell upon her like a cascade, falling like a rhythm around her. The rain was merciless but Enterprise retaliated with grit to match; the bombs fell fast but she was faster.

Peering skyward, Enterprise made out glimpses of airborne assailants, the source of the ordnance that pursued her like their missiles. Arrow-shaped birds with jagged wings - she assumed they were more of those Flankers like last time.

The Eagle carrier quickly took aim, letting loose a bolt of gold an instant later. Her aim was rewarded when her shot clipped the wing of one. The rest broke off and Enterprise seized this initiative to shoot out aircraft of her own. Dauntlesses took to the air, adding their own swirling contrails that disturbed the skies.

And a second later, Enterprise spotted a quartet of black arrows thrown into the mix, splitting the heavens with their arrival.

"I've got you covered!"

"Thanks!" Enterprise nodded. She didn't need to face Kestrel to thank her - she wanted her focus solely on the enemy. Her eagle-like eyes tracked the drizzling trail of enemy fighters as they twirled in response to intruders, circling away and around to retreat and chase after Kestrel's four Tomcats, their prey below mostly forgotten. But the occasional missile fire from below would give them dangerous reminders that the threat existed on the water's surface.

And the threat multiplied when more birds entered the scene, Eagles and Hornets adding into the chaos, their arrival feeding the disarray, further tilting the balance awry. The mess of fighters above created a frantic display, engaging and exchanging in a high-stakes game of cat-and-mouse. As Enterprise watched, all the familiar signs of dogfighting played out before her eyes; aircraft banking to reposition, rocketing to exploit energy in their pounces, swerving to escape the gaze of their pursuers.

Enterprise directed her Dauntlesses to engage. She could hear their pistons roar with all their might from below as they accelerated to meet with their quarry. Caught in the midst of the furball, the Entente aircraft paid the Gray Ghost's little mind as tracers and propellers shot past them. Their courses intersected, but the enemy birds made off intact as Dauntless screamed by.

The Eagle carrier grimaced as her planes looped back around. They regained their bearing but it was clear they had revealed themselves to the enemy. The occasional fighter diverted from their entanglement to race towards the Dauntlesses, sensing easy kills like opportunistic hunters. Dreaded puffs of hot smoke preluded the incoming missiles, compelling the prop-fighters to swoop and veer. But to Enterprise's astonishment, only a few found their mark, the rest harmlessly shooting by to spare the survivors their fiery fates.

Buzzard's Hornets glided close by, their flight conservative in the middle of the chaos surrounding them. Or at least, Enterprise assumed they were the F/A-18 Hornets.

"IEWS engaged! Stick close to my Growlers!"

Vulture grinned as her Eagles chased off the pursuers with gusto. "Righto! Thanks, sis!"

Enterprise passed Buzzard a quick glance. "IEWS?"

"Type of EW equipment," quickly explained the Federation carrier. "Improves our fighters' capabilities while hampering theirs."

"To be more specific: Integrated Electronic Warfare System. Employs electronic countermeasures and support measures to emit over a wide area. Interferes with enemy electronics and guidance systems while boosting ours via data link. Makes it hard for the enemy to engage us while making it easier for us to fight back," Andromeda added over the comms.

The Gray Ghost turned back to the air war. The scene continued to play the way she remembered but now Enterprise could see an invisible hand guiding the flow of battle. Despite outnumbering them, the volume of enemy fire failed to be overwhelming and although she attributed it to the skill of her allies, she could see enemy missiles often failing to strike true whereas her allies did not. In time, the results spoke for themselves as the enemy air assault became stemmed, a daunting battle shifting into a more manageable one.

The Eagle veteran was familiar with the ins and outs of air and naval combat, having fought for years against all manners of foes. But she could see there was still more to see, more to learn. The time would one day arrive that she will master these powers herself.

"It's working. We're doing this!"
"Keep it up! Maintain cover for EW aircraft; it's imperative we achieve air superiority."
"I know that, but we're still outnumbered! They'll be pushing hard!"

"And their fleet has yet to engage," Enterprise added, tightening her grip on her bow as she glowered at the Entente strike force, the distance rapidly shrinking between them.

Of course, this too was part of the plan.

Down below, Pitomnik watched in wonder at the air battle that raged ahead. First to the fight, the Verusan aircraft had formed the spearhead but as she and many others could witness, their blade was finding itself not sharp enough to cut into the enemy.

Now, it will be their turn to sink their teeth into the Federation forces. But if their spearhead was not enough to crush the enemy's meager opposition as was hoped…

'... Do we stand a chance?'

She maintained heading but her focus shifted around her. Fellow destroyers and other fast-footed vessels accompanied her, many slipping by oblivious to Pitomnik's doubts. Such thoughts only increased when she noticed her HUD flicker and radar fizzle - cries of electronic warfare from their faraway carriers were ringing true. Ahead, the young greenhorn could make out four distant figures, the enemy's own carriers as they fought against their aerial assault with astonishing deftness. Even as the weight of their aircraft fell upon them, they were fending them off with surprising resilience, even one whom she witnessed fight with antiquated planes and weaponry. A real madwoman if she saw one.

But for now, their air superiority was in question, the air alive with missiles and enemy birds. To fight a carrier was to fight not one, but many; their air power was a carrier's greatest strength. And against four, the idea of taking them on made Pitomnik feel sick in her stomach.

"A-are we to just charge against them…?"

"C'mon, rookie! Let's go!" A voice called out. Pitomnik barely had time to turn around before a hand snatched onto hers and pulled her - towards the battle.

"W-wait up!" she cried, now able to ascertain the person tugging her off. Another compatriot, identical in stature yet seemingly grander in scale, with her long fiery hair that would have nearly touched her feet now flowing in the breeze like blazing streaks. A dark-red sidecape whipped and furled from her left shoulder, and partially-shredded maroon knee stockings did little to avert her attention from the big, almost oversized leather boots this destroyer wore. A lone gloved hand gripped tightly to Pitomnik's as the unnamed comrade chuckled boldly.

Verusan Entente Destroyer
GUMRAK

"Relax, man! I've got your back!" Glancing behind her, Gumrak's green eyes shone brilliantly at Pitomnik. For a moment, all presumptions of her bravado seemed unfounded when she noted the absence of a cocky grin. "Big day's got you scared, right? First time fightin'?"

Pitomnik averted her gaze, afraid to convey even the slightest hint of treachery on a momentous day of Entente fervor. "I…"

Then Gumrak laughed again, her wide smile decorated back on her face. "Hahaha! Don't sweat it! Happens to all of us; you'll get used to it. Just stick with us and you'll be fine!"

"I… U-understood, comrade Gumrak! Thank you! I… Hold on, what do you mean by 'us'?"

"Us of course! Hey!"

Turning ahead, the two followed the youthful call to find themselves in new company as she fell by their side in formation. A spritely girl of identical class, wearing a leather jacket with rolled sleeves over her white undershirt and kneepads poking from beneath her skirt. A brown aviator hat and shades did little to quell this kansen's spiky short brown hair and ahoge that insisted on sticking high and proud. Combined with her fingerless gloves and the rigging's peculiar set of wide racing spoilers, Pitomnik could easily read this particular character like an open picture book.

Verusan Entente Destroyer
CHUDA

Chuda waved enthusiastically at Gumrak before setting sights on Pitomnik with sparkling eyes. "So you're looking to tag along with us, right?" she asked with eager anticipation. "Can't say I blame ya, Gumrak's simply irresistible! She'll take good care of you like she did with us! You'll see what I mean!"

"Oh great. Another misfit for our merry little band. Yay." Another voice and another destroyer slipped into the scene, joining the group in skimming the waves. Her presence was marked with her dark-green sweater wrapped in red-brown vest festooned with pouches, sweater-like leg warmers below her autumn-colored skirt and a warm camo-patterned trapper's hat nestled over this ship's black-speckled white hair. But above all, what caught Pitomnik's eye was the large axe hefted against the ship's shoulder, its blade weathered and scratched but gleaming sharp to the eye.

Verusan Entente Destroyer
DUB

Dub peered over the inexperienced destroyer with a dull eye. It took her no more than a second to make a conclusion. "... You sure she can keep up? She might slow us down."

"Oh don't be like that Dub!" joked Chuda. "Of course she can keep up! After all, she's a destroyer like us!"

"All the more reason that she's one of us!" proclaimed Gumrak, surging to take the lead. "Now let's do our part and come back in one piece! You three, follow me!"

The four ships cut ahead like missiles, their target the four enemy carriers in their sights. They advanced under the cover of the ongoing air battle and with their fellow comrade ships by their side. The path was clear and there would be too many for the Federation to stop. The buzzing of radar locks threatened their ears but the fear was lost.

"Ha! Just four ships? They've got some cocky nerve!"

"Who said it'll be just four?!"

The sudden declaration caused the advancing fleet's focus to flicker, enough for a row of torpedoes to slip right up to their feet like knives. The unexpected strike brought many a surprised yelp from the Entente ships.

Pitomnik frantically looked around. "What were those?! Where did they come from?!"

"There!" Following the exclamation, all eyes swung over on faraway figures converging from the sides, their feet too skimming the waves with contraptions to their sides, their arrangement and appearances prying curious stares. But that was not to last before the Entente troops recognized them as the enemy.

Racing over the waves at blistering speeds, Javelin kept her eyes glued to the enemy. Under cover of the carriers and Buzzard's EW aircraft clouding their adversaries' vision, she and the rest were able to catch the approaching enemy ships in a pincer attack, fast-movers catching other fast-footed kansens. As outlandish as it may have seemed to announce their presence so overtly, Javelin could see that their arrival had a profound effect on the enemy charge as it ceased to respond to the new threat, forcing them to turn away from the carriers.

So far, so good. All according to plan.

Not that it helped suppress the queasy feeling in Javelin's stomach seeing just how outnumbered they are.

The young destroyer spotted the enemy formation scatter and dissolve, their own agility taking them in all directions. She swerved in a tight loop, reining herself in from falling too deep into the enemy and too far from her own allies - that was the whole point of a defense.

A quintet of figures slowed as they caught up. On the flank, Brooklyn observed the response from the opposition. "We'll need to spread out, keep them from encircling us."

"That'll be a tall order for just us, innit?" Javelin worried. "Would we be able to do it?"

"There's no time to reconsider," asserted Warspite as she brandished her mighty guns and greatsword. "We must hold for as long as we can! Belfast?"

By her side, the maid nodded. "Everyone, stay on your guard and stay aware. I know you all have read the reports and heard the stories, but this will be the real thing. If you see a missile, evade; if you are unable to, you can shoot them down with your secondaries."

'Now that would be cool to catch on camera,' thought Cormorant as she held onto her camera with discreet intentions.

A chorus of affirmative was swiftly carried out and as equally swiftly Javelin took off. She kept the bladed end of her signature weapon in sight as much as her many foes skirting to and fro. Dashing into the heart of the enemy advance, Javelin quickly went to work. Unveiling her torpedo tubes, she quickly fired off a salvo before dashing off in a flash. Loud hisses filled the air as the Royal Navy destroyer ran, her instincts warning her of the danger before she could even see them with her own eyes.

She janked hard to the side, feeling her body lurch from the whiplash. But she dared not slow down even a knot as she glimpsed trails of smoke out of the corner of her eye and the strong breeze of something hurling right by her.

"Is this what they're like?!" exclaimed Brooklyn aghast as she tried to keep her weapons steady against the periodic bolts of white-hot smoke. The frightening speed, tenacity, and power of the missiles cowed her return fire as the diplomat found herself more focused on dodging than engaging the enemy.

The situation could not be any more different for the old dreadnought. The 15in guns her pride, Warspite relied upon them to subdue the many foes that swarmed around her, the massive guns singing to drown out the enemy fire as Belfast stuck close to her side. Where the queen's knight sought for targets, the maid's eyes watched for threats, acting as the aegis for the royalty.

"Missiles! From the-"
"I see them!" With a grunt, Belfast caught them before they arrived, clouding the air in dark soot. The only blemish that should reach them.
"Pair of enemy destroyers, attempting to circle around on your 2:30."
Warspite whirled her guns around at Andromeda's report, sending a barrage that discouraged their conniving foes back. "Taken care of! Bel, maintain the defense!"
"As you command, Miss Warspite!"

The thunderous guns roared, Cormorant having the piece of mind to ensure that the instance was captured on footage as she dashed among the chaos. Armed with the dual hull-halves each with weaponry and equipment typical of Federation destroyer armament, Cormorant had the luxury of being better-acquainted with the weaponry of this world. Circling wide she could stray far from danger as her own missiles hissed loose to contribute to the mayhem, her personal countermeasure adding to her protection.

Of course, while frontline photography made for thrilling articles and documentaries, it did her no good if she got caught in the action in a bad way…

Javelin grunted as she slid into a tight U-turn, another missile passing overhead washing her over with hot air. She rebounded back into the fray, dancing among smoke trails and her own torpedoes as she turned the sea into a maze of hazards just as the Entente strike force did with their missiles. The task was not made easy as her foes were destroyers themselves, nimble and light-footed as her. The seas churned like the skies as they performed their own dogfights.

Torpedoes spent and reloading, Javelin reached for her guns, small in caliber but quick-firing to make up for the absence of firepower. She brought the twin barrels to bear but not before a sudden reaction brought that intention to a screeching halt.

The same screeching of metal on metal as Javelin found herself deadlocked in melee, her harpoon grinding against a blade that nearly speared into her. She grunted, pushing back against a force that wanted her slain before translating it into a deflection, the two opposing energies untangling. Now freed, Javelin got a good look at her foe - her equal.

A ship, a short girl of a destroyer just like herself. A light short-sleeved shirt for speed yet accompanied by a medieval armored breastplate, gauntlets, and knee and shin-guards. But underneath her swirly white-blonde hair tied in a braid that rested over her shoulder there was a serious veneer to this character, one that belied this ship's supposed youth. Attached to her back, a great pair of vertical wings spread above her head in majestic silver sheen along with a pair of smaller fins connected to her waist.

As this nemesis twirled her staff, it surprised Javelin that it was not dissimilar to her own.

Verusan Entente Destroyer
KANIAK

"I am Kaniak, Kongō-class destroyer and the striking spear of Verusan Entente!" she proclaimed gallantly.

Javelin put on a fearless visage. "And I'm Javelin of the Royal Navy J-class!"

Kaniak let out a haughty scoff. "Are you to be my opponent today? Step aside, little girl, for your blood is unworthy of adorning my blade."

"Then feel free to walk away back to where you came from," Javelin shot back. "This isn't my home but I won't let you bring ruin to someone else's!"

Her foe scowled, spinning her spear once more as her grand wings opened up, unsheathing her supply of missiles. Them, her blade, and her spiteful gaze were aimed squarely on Javelin.

"Then prepare to fall. Na strazy!"

Missile fire drowned the air as much as the aircraft did. Smell of smoke and cordite began to fill the heavens. So much fire there were that the skies, even on an innocent morning, seemed to burn as the two sides clashed, ebbed, and flowed.

As the fighters continued the air-to-air brawl, trading the occasional moment of the havoc to spare some missiles or bombs for the world below, another great stage at play. And in return, there would be a missile sent forth, either in retaliation or to influence the fiery performance up above.

And among the fire sent skyward, two sets of tracers and flak made for a furious storm.

In the midst of everything - the clash between the heavens and the sea, the high-stakes defense, in between the carriers that were to be the pillars of strength and the lessers sent to protect them, marauders from above and around - Cleveland found herself walking a very delicate tightrope. But as much as she was put in a very wearisome position, there was one key role she kept in mind: to protect their fleet from above.

She kept her eyes trained upward, seeing the metal birds above whose numbers and speed made her head spin. Her only anchor in the chaos were the familiar sights of Enterprise's Dauntlesses, followed by the Federation's Hornets, Tomcats, and Eagles darting amid the Entente planes. Swift, jagged-shaped birds dancing among other sleek birds. As much time she spent in the company of the Silver Star Federation, she still found it confusing to tell whose jet fighter was whose. When it came to anti-air suppression, flak could be quite indiscriminate.

That was another thing Cleveland had to worry about, among everything else.

She snuck a quick glance towards her assigned partner for the anti-air detail. Following the rapid beats of autocannons, the sprays of tracer, and cheesy ditties, Cleveland spotted San Diego flutter about. She pranced around the battlefield in typical Sandy fashion, a cheery expression on her face and energy in her form as she fought. But as unique a character she could be, San Diego was certainly helping to pull considerable weight in the task.

San Diego swept around the battlefield, keeping up with the fire until a near-miss from a skyward missile put a damper in her mood. "Hey, don't rain on my parade~! Don't you know who I am?! I'm the top idol San Diego! Now show some respect and slow down for me! W-wait~~!"

A blast washed over the light cruiser, smoke and heat nearly consuming her. But as she blinked in astonishment, San Diego found herself unharmed and only a little humbled, courtesy of Cleveland's smoking guns. "Don't get too distracted, Sandy! Just keep moving and keep shooting!"

"Eh~?" San Diego whined. "But these things for like so faster! How can I brag about my AA capabilities if I can't hit them like a pro that I am?"

"You'll get used to it," asserted Cleveland. Thinking back, it was understandable that out of all the Azur Lane kansens present - Enterprise, Belfast, and herself - the ones with extensive experience with the aircraft and weaponry of this world were distributed in each team. And she couldn't complain about being able to keep an eye out for those who lacked that experience.

A figure slid to her side, her bulky carrier rigging nearly poking into her. Cleveland spotted Vulture's audacious smirk in the corner of her vision. "You holding up, Cleve?"

The cruiser grinned back. "I'm the one who's supposed to ask you that, Vulture."

An Eagle zoomed by, cutting low past the two as the gust brought with it the harsh growl of its engines and missiles destined for the interlopers who sought to bring them harm. They scurried from the bolting bird, but in their retreat Cleveland could tell they would return shortly again. It was only inevitable that they would. While the Azur Lane ships sent to provide support succeeded in hampering the enemy, they were finding cracks in the defenses to slip through.

And with their numbers, it was natural that they would find plenty. Chief among them was a particular squad, their movement indicating them to be destroyers but the brilliant scarlet hair of their leader a hint of something greater. She dared to venture between the lines of defense, the others following suit in her boldness.

"Keep doin' what you do, Cleve. You can leave those chumps to me."

"Sure thing," she answered before sharing with the carrier a fearless smile. "I'm counting on you."

This brought Vulture to give the young knight a smile of her own. "Got your back, man. Now let's roll!"

Umely scowled as spied the progress from afar.

She watched with vexation as her regulars dispatched to dislodge the obstructant that were the four carriers became undone by their escorts, swooping in no doubt in anticipation of the offensive. Though equipped unusually, they hampered their advance, confusing their formations and aim enough for the Entente's advance to stall. She watched her comrades battle, struggle, and even at times bested by these vile ships the Federation had allied themselves with. The air battle was an even worse show, a gruesome display of a large-scale air combat and one where the Federation were in their element.

And yet, as she kept count of the enemy forces, Umely could already see the limits of their strength.

This attack was still salvageable. All she needed was force. Not a mere push, but a ruthless blow.

A vicious plan spawned in her head. It wasn't long until she made a decision.

"Upor, go forth!"

Javelin grunted as she dove aside from yet another attempted blow, resuming her brief flight yet she could tell in the back of her mind that this was only temporary. It would not be long until she was forced to contend with another missile on her tail.

In her retreat, Kaniak advanced. Her spear was held poised but it was her missiles that lanced out towards her opponent with vengeance. Long had the clash of blades and honorable melee passed - now it was personal.

She tracked her opponent through the haze of missile smoke, seeing her flutter and dart from the homing projectiles. It brought a sense of satisfaction within Kaniak to see Javelin be helpless against mere missiles, lacking her own and more importantly her own countermeasures, resorted to dodging and fleeing like a coward.

The missiles kept coming, the blasts steadily singeing her foe whose only reply was a feeble pounding of her twin guns. What torpedoes she would employ had been reduced to inert smoldering husks in their tubes, the result of a chance from their prior duel.

Kaniak smirked as the missiles hounded her quarry but it wasn't long before she detected missiles bound towards her in return. She kept course, letting her countermeasures deflect the threat as she remained focus on her prey. Federation planes plagued the skies overhead but she ignored them, sparing only a dismissive glance at their failed attempt of what she perceived to be a surprise attack.

"Hmph. How thoughtless."

Suddenly, a tidal wave of heat rose up in front of her, silencing Kaniak's world with a terrible roar. She flopped hard on her back, made to be humbled in her unconscious state by the mighty barrage that had dropped on her without her notice.

Some distance away, Warspite nodded with content, exchanging a look with the relieved Javelin. "Thanks, Warspite. Thought I was a goner!"

"Don't rest too easy now. We still have an ordeal to-"

Then, the world became silenced by ear-splitting impacts, blinded by the sun's glare that suddenly appeared on the waves near where Javelin was. Like a cruel imitation of her achievement, Warspite watched in horror as her friend's battered form was callously tossed aside before falling back to earth.

"JAVELIN!"

Brooklyn whirled around, stunned by the seismic display of power that unexpectedly erupted on the battlefield. "Where did that come from just now?!"

"Warning, heavy contact closing in! Scans indicate it's a battleship, Iowa-class!"

Brooklyn snapped a hand to her comms. "Enterprise, we need support! Enemy reinforcements are-"

Her words were left unfinished as her surroundings turned to fire, the water under her feet churned and the air around her consumed by thunder as Brooklyn fell victim to the savage onslaught. Only echoes remained as did her ruined form.

Belfast and Warspite looked on with alarm. They tensed up, expecting the similar affliction but what happened was arguably worse: they were left with uneasy silence as their gazes scoured the west for the threat.

It didn't take long for them to find it.

Striding out on the open waves, flanked by encouraged compatriots that imbued this figure wings of empowerment, a lone figure was seen. She was robed in form-fitting but thick pieces of iron-cast armor - breastplate, thigh and shin guards, and her non-dominant arm plated in a large brassard and gauntlet. Beneath it all, Belfast and Warspite could barely make out dress uniform and skirt that accentuated this opponent's slim but athletic frame, decorated with the colors of the Verusan Entente maritime arm. Her long flowing dark-purple hair swayed in her wake, restrained only by an ornate bow and a stout cap of metal resting atop her head like a crown.

But the true symbol of her power came from the gargantuan weapon not on her back but in her hands. A grand cannon, estimated to be as long as she was tall, with the body and head of an actual battleship complete with turrets and the bow sharpened to double as a massive bayonet. A lethal implement if either of the Royal ships saw one and what chilled them to the nerve was their wielder's steely gaze as it found them.

Verusan Entente Battleship
UPOR

Over to the side, Cormorant gasped behind her camera. "I don't believe it! It's her… It's the Verusan Entente's own walking fortress, the Unyielding Bastion, Upor!"

Warspite grimaced as she spotted the enemy battleship hoist her weapon, six barrels smoking but they were only just getting started. Other Entente ships clustered by her, no doubt buoyed by her appearance.

Belfast took a step to accompany Warspite but found her path blocked by the hand of the Queen's guard. "Take care of Javelin and Brooklyn. I'll handle this!"

The maid was reluctant to agree but lost any chance to protest before Warspite sprung ahead. Posture hunched and blade poised, she charged. Ahead, Upor answered the challenge with the mere rack of her gun's handle, the piston-like mechanisms cocked and ready. She swung her weapon to bear, all barrels destined for one target: Warspite.

The Royal Navy battleship caught wind of the danger and leapt to the side. A terrible roar erupted from Upor's gun as the power of a broadside was unleashed in a concentrated stream. It was unlike anything Warspite had faced. Such firepower condensed into a single aim, at a rate she could scarcely believe. Upor's gun bellowed not just with cacophonous rancor but a rate that rivaled AA guns, spewing lead all over the sea in pursuit of Warspite. She sped serpentine at full tilt, barely outrunning the maelstrom of fire that chased after her.

Warspite held her determined gaze at her formidable foe, the torrent of fire too hot for her sword. Upor's entourage also discouraged her approach, their potshots adding favor to their battleship's fight. Warspite's guns let loose to quell their opinion, but the looming threat continued to ring from her appointed adversary.

She jumped back from a fiery burst, keeping a firm grip on her sword for defense. Her rigging remained trained on the Entente battleship, her own might flowing from her turrets. Warspite's power resonated over the waves, resolved to show this ship how a proper Royal Navy battleship ruled the seas. Her own twin 15in guns sang in rhythmic thumps, her secondaries forming a chorus in support. The incoming fire bracketed Upor who merely shouldered the blasts, keeping her aim steady as she continued firing.

The return fire fell like hail on Warspite who braced behind her blade. The shells pounded her position, the impacts battering her body. She winced, the stings biting into her skin and scorching her rigging.

Warspite coughed, the smoke and embers wrapped taut around her. Though still standing, she shuddered on her legs. She glanced down on herself, seeing her rigging still operational but damaged, the metal frames now bearing the scars of battle.

The Royal dreadnought counted herself fortunate to even still be combat-effective, but as she looked up she realized her fortunes could still change. As the smoke cleared, Warspite beheld a shrouded figure charging towards her, her oversized weapon in hand and a battle cry emanating from her lips. Upor's bayonet glimmered in the light right before Warspite dodged it at a hair's breadth.

Blades connected, the greatsword meeting bayonet as the two ships clashed. The two mighty contestants grunted as they finally met each other face-to-face.

"So you are the Verusan Entente's great warrior," said Warspite. "For our chance encounter, I see your power did not stray from the claims."

"... Can't say the same for you," uttered Upor, before throwing back Warspite with a shout. The blunt end of her gun swiftly followed suit, prompting a timely dodge by Warspite. A great thrust of the bayonet followed after, the tip meeting not the battleship's flesh but her own sword. Warspite had the foresight to ward the enemy's blade away, eyeing the six beady barrels of her opponent's gun with great caution. With another deadlock ensured, the Royal Navy kansen exploited the opportunity by willing her rigging into action. She smirked as her own guns took aim at Upor, conspicuously absent of guns of her own attached to her back.

"You're through- Ough!"

Warspite didn't have time to brace herself when Upor's armored gauntlet snatched her by the collar, tossing her overhead like an unworthy doll. The best she could do was to try to brace for impact when she fell back down to the water, landing heads over heels. She had the tact to roll flat upon landing - as much as she despised the hard knocks of war, the one thing Warspite certainly could not tolerate was potentially embarrassing herself with such an undignified landing.

She grunted, shaking her head clear when in a sudden glimpse of clarity Warspite realized her hands were without her sword. She spotted it lying just outside of her reach, but an eruption of pain on her backside put a halt to her desires. Peering around her, Warspite realized she was surrounded, the Entente's reinforcements circling her with their missiles and opportunistic stares. A shadow fell upon her, Warspite finding herself staring down the great blade and muzzles of Upor's gun.

Upor did not smile, nor was her expression marred with the hint of personal enmity. Her eyes shone with indifference as they met Warspite's and without sparing a word, took aim.

Fate however had other ideas when an arrow of light smashed into Upor. She reeled back into action, whirling towards the direction of the sudden attack. Warspite followed her gaze, never more happy to see a familiar figure hurtling over the waves.

The Entente ships reacted, moving to redouble their perimeter against the incoming threat. They had numbers and weapons, but they did nothing to deter Enterprise from her intervention. She ducked and weaved, slipping through the flurry of missiles as the engines of her dive bombers droned from up high, descending upon the enemy ships with proverbial talons outstretched - literal ones in the case of Grim Reaper. They divebombed the Entente who were unaccustomed to "primitive" attacks that didn't trigger their radar warnings. They looked up to deal with the aerial threat, only to find it come to them in the form of feathers and sharp claws.

With the enemy formations disrupted, Enterprise reserved her aim for the one ship that remained: Upor. She loosed another arrow at the battleship, once again hitting its mark on her armor. But the shot accomplished only in making Upor's scowl stretch further as she immediately hefted her weapon at the Gray Ghost. She pulled the trigger, making her gun sing its dreaded song as it made Enterprise's image vanish behind a curtain of fire.

Upor kept up the fire until she caught her quarry shooting out from the smoke cloud in the edge of her vision. Grimacing, she shifted her aim, lining up the shot, then-

She pulled the trigger found to her surprise that the melody of destruction had only just now transitioned to an interlude of empty clacking. The hollow sound managed to seem more deafening than the ripping gunshots before and as Upor glanced back at her target, she knew all too well that Enterprise had heard the same. She bolted straight ahead, fully aware of her foe's weakness.

The Entente battleship raised her ammo-less weapon in defense, taking a golden arrow meant for her. Shot missed and too fast to stop, Enterprise brought herself up close to Upor who seized the chance to swing her great weapon. The blade slashed across, cutting where the carrier stood. For an instant, Upor considered it another target neutralized, but her hopes died the instant a white image emerged in the corner of her eye.

Having missed her swing, Upor was too late for a second chance whereas Enterprise had hers.

Warspite gazed in astonishment as Upor was sent tumbling over the waters. As the only ship standing, Enterprise was unanimously deemed the victor, the declaration enforced by the display of her triumph as the stragglers were left to be swept up by Federation air support. The Eagle carrier stood like a sentinel of the battlefield, her pearly dress and black robe-like coat worn and scuffed yet she herself was unharmed and unaffected by the fires of war. Even the most recent skirmish had drawn no bead bead of sweat from this seemingly invincible heroine. ('... Ow, my foot,' Enterprise privately winced, chiding herself for even punting a kansen wearing thick iron metal armor as hard as she did.)

Now able to breath easy, Warspite clambered back to her feet. A figure swooped down to her side, the maid's apron assuaging her fears. A hand was extended which she was more than happy to accept. "Now Miss Warspite, now's not the time to rest easy when there is still work ahead of us."

"Aye." As she recovered her sword, Warspite gave a warm smile at Belfast. "Let's get back to work. How're the others?"

"All damaged but still far from being out. Miss Javelin and Miss Brooklyn will need to spend some infirmary time. However-"

The sound of an explosion rocked the two. Belfast react quickly, opening up with her AA guns, her screen of tracers catching errant missiles that interrupted them. Kestrel, Vulture, and Buzzard skimmed around the duo as they accompanied their respective birds further into war.

"Hey, we're still in a war here!" Vulture griped. "Could use a hand."

Warspite groaned as dusted herself off. Fresh from her duel, the damage was not severe though her prospects could certainly be better: her main batteries damaged, plating half-compromised, secondaries nominal, and her royal garments scratched and pockmarked.

But Belfast was right: there was still work to do.

With silent deference, Warspite hefted her greatsword and readied her guns.

The most bitter of curses escaped her lips as Umely watched the recent developments.

Though her entrance had made an effect on the battle, the Commissary bemoaned the extent with which Upor played. Downed two ships and nearly the third before her role had been prematurely cut. She had witnessed her Unyielding Bastion be made to concede at the hands of a mere antiquated warrior. Even with the Federation defenses cracked - and the seams nearly tearing apart - they remained steadfast. Worse still, so too was their assault, their numbers and strength dwindling. The air assault that she had pinned her expectations on were only proving to be a disappointment as the tide slowly and steadily began to tip in the Federation's favor, and very soon the rest of the dominoes would fall.

'Curse those Federation dogs! Our grand attack should have smashed them by all rights!'

Umely reached for her radio to blare her next round of orders, spiteful encouragement, or even the occasional vitriol at her own underlings. The attack was stalling, and it will only stall so long as the expeditionary fleet failed to crack such a small Federation defense.

In a moment of clarity, Umely glanced to her side, but found nothing. She looked around but saw no one beside her, all hands either directed towards the front or pulled back as casualties. She shrugged with indifference as she continued watching, aggravating as it was.

'Just where are they supposed to be?'

Enterprise took aim before unleashing another bolt of gold to contribute to the storm of arrows she sent the enemy's way, the seas abuzz with danger and targets. At the front where the fighting was the heaviest, there were targets aplenty, more down on her level than the birds above. The danger now came from two directions, and with no layer of defense to cushion her from the enemy, nowhere was safe.

Despite all this, Enterprise found herself relishing this new battle.

With their protective escorts having suffered from Upor's advance, the carriers took it upon themselves to reinforce the frontline. Plans had been altered, the battle lines shifting with them. The air war continued to rage as Buzzard, Vulture, Kestrel, and Enterprise moved in to engage on a new front. And though the Gray Ghost waged the aerial fight with great vigor and commitment, she felt never more in her element fighting against ships on the great azure arena of the sea.

Enterprise dashed ahead, pushing the initiative as if she could push the physical battlelines. Her senses were abuzz for all threats, her synapses quickly racing to prioritize those destined for her arrows or airstrikes. Her attacks came in a flurry, the intensity rivaling those of the missiles sent her way, the black-coated phantom darting to and fro with inhuman grit. White-bellied Dauntlesses prowled the skies to make a torrent of bullets and dumb bombs, seemingly glad to devote their specialty on ships than against nimble jets. On the battlefield dominated by guided munitions, roaring jet engines, and creations that surpassed the mere human imagination, it was the lone archer with her venerable propeller planes that stole the show.

From the rear, Buzzard kept the darting image of their Eagle ally in the corner of her view. She studied the famed Enterprise leap into battle, unleashing her might in spite of the numbers and technological discrepancies. Against such a determined foe whose aura was made tangible in her ferocity, she watched as the enemy wavered from her presence, stunned by the unfamiliar enemy.

Buzzard held a watchful but careful eye on Enterprise as considered the situation. "Air superiority still contested… down two ships… outnumbered but enemy formations in disarray, exacerbated by the incapacitation of their battleship…"

She acted quickly, addressing her orders in order of importance. She would have favored a more orderly arrangement of their defense and while Enterprise's style was not considered, she was more than content to work with it. "Cormorant, Belfast, advance in support of Enterprise, exploit the opening. Warspite, hold position to provide fire support. Kestrel…"

Her sister nodded without hesitation. "I'll focus on defending our fleet."

Buzzard gave a tacit acknowledgement. "Vulture, you- Vulture? Vulture!"

"Hm? Yeah what's up?"

"Cease your dallying, Cleveland can handle herself. I need your aircraft to support mine to whittle down the enemy's!"

"Oh c'mon Buzz! It's not like I'm not fighting the Vers."

"Shush, this is the plan now," chided Buzzard. "If we can press the attack then-"

Trilling beeps blared into all ears. "Warning! New enemy contacts closing in fast! Four ships from bearing 315. Displacement… carriers!"

'More reinforcements?' Buzzard mulled over the new variable, mentally rewriting the equation. The enemy composition was steadily weakening but perhaps their air power was in greater decline than she suspected. Like them, are the Entente carriers headed for the fight to compensate for combat losses?

Perhaps…

"Warspite, redirect your aim towards bearing 315! I'll be sending a detachment over as well. If we can neutralize those carriers, we'll be able to tip the air war decisively in our favor!" As Buzzard amended her orders, she eyed the direction of their incoming "guests". Though she could not see them, she knew they were there, presumably eager to accompany their birds in battle. Plans began to form on how to best "welcome" them once they arrived.

"This is Enterprise. Moving in to intercept!"

Buzzard blinked, her focus hitting a disagreeable snag. "Wait, Enterprise! You'll be too far ahead!"

Her caution fell on deaf ears as Enterprise surged ahead, the multitude of missile-armed vessels around her now forgotten as she directed her one aim to another target over on the north-western horizon. Like Buzzard, she too had reached the same conclusion upon hearing the announcement. As the furthest one ahead, she was in the prime position to be the first to affect the circumstances, to turn the tables on the enemy who wished to tip the scales back in their favor.

It was risky, she admitted, but she could interfere with their plans before they could do the same to her friends'.

Enterprise could now spot figures creeping into view, the clarity marred by the smoke and haze of missile propellant. She raised her bow, a shot readied, her course steady and aim true. One shot was all she needed to alter the course of the battle.

Then planes darted in front of her, cutting across her vision like shadowy apparitions. Enterprise swerved defensively, but a realization quickly stopped her cold.

They weren't Entente Flankers or any jet fighters.

The planes buzzed like hornets, their engines betraying the drone of pistons and propellers. Their split-second appearance did little to conceal their dark-green skin, blood-red spots emblazoned on their wings.

And then she heard laughter. Familiar laughter.

"Fufufu… It's been a while hasn't it, Gray Ghost?"

Before Enterprise's eyes, the shadow in the haze had materialized ahead of her, a set of tails blossoming like a fan as her devious smile glimmered in the light. Their gazes locked, Enterprise's shock meeting her malevolence.

"Akagi…!" Instantly she raised her bow to take aim but a flock of Zeroes on her flank was faster, their guns harrying the Eagle carrier's position. More appeared in the skies, emerging from pale flames to fill the air with their crimson badges.

"Sister Akagi, now!"

The vixen grinned. With a sweep of her hand, her four-pointed stars burned, the winds carrying glowing embers that transformed into a fleet of more green-skinned Zeroes. They converged with more of their kin from the opposite direction, red embers intertwined with blue in the wind as the two flocks flowed in unison. They moved in a swarm, their bellies laden with bombs as they converged upon Enterprise from every direction like a hand that sought to entrap her under their masters' gaze. Akagi and Kaga shared assured looks at their encirclement. The two swiped their hands, and the Sakura birds moved for the kill.

Enterprise bolted the moment bullets began to lance out towards her, followed by bombs that buried her under steel rain. Tracers and impacts washed over her as she ran, her grunts of pain restrained as Enterprise weathered the onslaught. She powered through the storm, her focus honed in on Akagi as she readied her bow. The fox-like carrier only found amusement at the Gray Ghost's predicament.

Then, above the whistle of bombs and screams of Zeroes, a triumphant shout rang out from the skies. Peering up, Enterprise caught a shadow wreathed in the sun before she reacted, catching a sharp blade against her bow. She gritted her teeth at the new foe's proud declaration.

"You're mine, Gray Ghost!"

Sakura Empire Aircraft Carrier
ZUIKAKU

The katana grinded against her will, Zuikaku's strength weighing down on Enterprise like gravity. She pushed back before finally throwing her back. Sending her foe back into the air, Enterprise sent a golden bolt after her in a flash, only for it to meet its end on Zuikaku's blade as she recovered from the throw, settling down on the waves on two graceful feet, her katana already poised.

"Hm. That almost got me. Good to see you're still as sharp as ever."

"Always," Enterprise replied.

The persistent droning of propeller blades filled her ears as Sakura planes circled around the two combatants like a drifting breeze. Their arena was defined, the looping birds stretching to the heavens where up high, Enterprise spied another figure in the nexus. Like orbits to a sun, this particular crane was one for the air armada that filled the domain she ruled.

Sakura Empire Aircraft Carrier
SHOUKAKU

Shoukaku sat in the skies, her feather-like dress aloft like wings. A serene expression donned her visage as a treble whistling emanated from her flute.

Zuikaku smirked at seeing her sister. "Heh. As long as my sister watches from above, my victory will be ensured. I won't lose to you, Enterprise!"

With a shout, she dashed ahead, her katana slicing the sea apart in her advance before it erupted by Enterprise's feet. It then took the lead as it slashed the air like a conductor's baton. Her rivalry manifested in sparks as her sword and Enterprise's bow clashed. Each blow drew a conceded step; each strike inviting retaliation as crane and eagle struck and parried as freely as the restless waves. Dauntlesses and white-hulled Zeroes took to the skies to partake in their contests.

Zuikaku absorbed the brunt of a blow, sliding back before the Gray Ghost unleashed her warbirds upon her. A torrent of hot lead was met with a flurry of slashes before Zuikaku's defense was undone by a well-timed arrow. Lain exposed, she was now at the mercy of her Eagle nemesis before a wing of Zeroes interfered. But the ones that rescued Zuikaku were not her's or her sister's, for they bore the green schemes.

Watching from the sidelines, Akagi and Kaga observed with bored impatience. "Leave it to our lessers to play with their food rather than hunt with impunity," Akagi crooned.

Zuikaku shot her a glare. "Hey!"

"Regardless, we have more pressing matters on hand," Kaga interjected. Before she continued, the howling of jet engines faintly crept in, turning the backdrop into a distant thunderous roar.

Then, before anyone could react the swirling cloud of the Sakura air cover became rocked by detonations. The explosions eclipsed the subtle hisses of missiles that struck like lightning, leaving trails of faint white where they had cut the sky.

Kaga's icy gaze narrowed in the direction of the attack."... We have interlopers joining our hunt."

The rumbling grew loud until the source emerged from the clouds. All heads swiveled to witness the new aircraft, their sounds foreign and shape alien to their senses. Sleek arrow-like quivers hurtling through the skies with alarming speed, their presence only foreboding news for the Sakura carriers. The sentiment only intensified when their gazes fell down to catch three black-coated sisters on fast approach.

Zuikaku tracked the unknown aircraft with awe. Only Siren warplanes were alike but she had never seen a once-alien instrument of human design. Angular wings and sleek frames that bespoke of a more familiar expression in contrast to the harsh lines that characterized Siren interceptors. A power once believed to be attributed solely for Sirens and their inhuman technology now wielded by kansens of another world.

She continued gazing as they turned towards them, projectiles popping from their wings like rockets. Her eyes widened. "Shoukaku, watch out!"

Her sister was roused from her roost, the almost serene tones of her song shattered by the danger that hurtled her way. Shoukaku plummeted to the safety of the sea, escaping the flaming streaks that whizzed around her, sending more of her Zeroes descending by her side as ruined fireballs. She fell back down to earth discomposed, her pristine white cloth marred by the soot of close-calls.

"Ugh. How shameful of me… Just what were those things?!"

"The typical weapons of this world," Zuikaku growled as she stood to guard her sister. "Ironblood's task force had encountered such weapons and aircraft during their expedition."

As Kaga readied for battle, Akagi watched the Federation fighters with disdain. "Such churlish instruments. The insects can boast of their so-called powers but in the end they are still insects to quash. Destroy them!"

With a wave of her hand, orbs of fire materialized around Akagi before they sped ahead, transforming into more Zeroes. They bolted ahead, meeting the Federation jet fighters head-on. Missiles were exchanged with tracers until the two shot past one another, but the Sakura planes ignored their rivals. They continued unabated - their true targets rested on the aircraft carriers of the Silver Star Federation.

At the head of their formation, Buzzard caught their intent. "Prepare evasive maneuvers!" The three ships veered away before the rain of tracers could pelt them. Eyeing them with contempt, Vulture fired off a quick volley. Her own missiles hurtled towards the transgressors in spirals, smiting down a few Zeroes with scornful ease.

"Ha! Too easy!"

"Be on your guard, Vulture. Those are Sakura Empire's A6M Zeroes; according to Azur Lane field reports, they're fast and nimble but possess surprising firepower." Buzzard paused, catching sight of the Gray Ghost still caught in her straits. "Strike mission away. Cover Enterprise!"

Zuikaku hissed a curse as she watched Hornets change course, puffs of smoke granting her only a split-second decision for her and Shoukaku to leap back, letting the sea explode into mist. She brandished her katana, her fighting spirit rekindled as she and her sister formed up next to Akagi and Kaga. Their counterparts did the same, forming wings by Enterprise's side.

Seeing the mirror-like match-off, Akagi's giggling turned into a cackle. In unison, fires of blood-red and ghostly-white spawned in thin air to race towards their foes as blazing phoenixes. Instantly the stand-off sprung into motion as both parties moved to evade, reposition, and retaliate.

In mimicry of their actions, the air became abuzz with dogfights and furballs, blue-skinned Dauntlesses taking to the skies once more against green and white Zeroes. But now gray-hulled aircraft partook in the chaos, leaving their unforgettable marks in ghostly missile trails.

In earlier times, the Sakura Empire's Zeroes had dominated aerial duels, their speeds and firepower making for ferocious combatants of the air that scarcely any from Eagle Union could rival. Careful tactics were assessed, lessons learned, new improvements sought as their host of Helldivers, Wildcats, and Hellcats struggled for supremacy of the Pacific skies. It wasn't until the advent of newer models that the aerial contest could finally be equalized.

That was all to change today, when the roster of Hornets, Tomcats, and Eagles disregarded all of the hard-earned tactics and long-awaited advances in the blink of an eye.

From the position of relative safety from where she could enact her destructive melodies, Shoukaku became aware of the sweeping change that played before her very eyes. Controlling the innumerable eyes and hands of the Sakura's naval aviation fleet, the white crane could see the scope of the battle with an almost-omniscient perspective. But the control also meant she was surrounded by ever-increasing proof that something was wrong. Where her birds controlled the ebb and flow of battle like water, she found herself unable to read the tide. Where her powers came to aid her kin, Shoukaku began to feel powerless before their new enemies, her enchantments floundering before something greater.

Where the Zeroes had been the feared predator of the air, it had become their turn to be prey before the might of this world's air power and their breed of aircraft.

She would express her dire conclusions, to warn her sister of the distressing prophecy, were it not for a pair of missiles ending her train of thought. Without a watchful eye to look after them, the rest of the Sakura fleet would have to arrive at this grim realization their own way.

Buzzard breathed easy with the confirmation of one target down. She snuck Enterprise a silent thanks for her input; Buzzard understood that combatants who supported their allies from afar or imbued their capabilities through indirect means were still nonetheless combatants - sometimes, perhaps more deadly than foes that fought you face-to-face.

She glanced back to the battle at hand, eager to view the results. As predicted, the one tagged as Zuikaku reacted to her sister's falling with increased ferocity. With their eyes and aegis taken out, Buzzard had no doubt that the rest would be easy pickings afterwards… Or at least, easier. The other pair, Akagi and Kaga, continued to fight with complete coordination with one another. They complemented each other's moves and tactics, quickly responding to and compensating for the stark discrepancies in aircraft capabilities. They were being pushed on the backfoot but it was clear that as experienced warriors, they would fight with all their vicious might.

Elsewhere, Vulture made a cocky grin as she fought, her own Eagles happily pouncing on her foes as she did. Dodging strafing runs and divebombs, she fired off her mouth as often as she did with her missiles and even CIWS. "Oh yeah! Come at me, bro! Catch me if you can!"

"Vulture, quit fooling around and focus," Buzzard scolded over the radio. "You could've neutralized your opponent in five less moves and a dozen less words."

The tomboy chuckled as she ducked under another swing. Zuikaku cut the air between them into ribbons, her blade guided more by anger now. A missile slamming into her side kicked the air out of her lungs. She teetered but stood firm, a hand nursing the wound that impeded her zeal. Another missile snaked her way, this time she was prepared to meet it with her sharp blade. With a deft swing, her katana caught it, causing only premature detonation that choked her in dark smoke. Buzzard seized the chance to rendezvous with Vulture as the pair moved onto the remaining adversaries.

Catching the onset of more carriers, Kaga scowled at the implications. "Worthless Fifth…" she spat as she turned her attention towards them. She and Akagi drifted in intricate sweeping motions, their movements synchronized and timed enough to avoid taking an arrow. A practiced maneuver from all their clashes with the Gray Ghost and her iconic weapon. What was new to them was evading Kestrel's missiles at the same time.

Akagi growled as she summoned more fireballs, more of her air support, determined to wash her opposition away in fire. The arena had become a frenzy of dancing bullets, a circumstance which would favor the talons of Sakura birds against even an experienced combatant like Enterprise. But what vexed her were the black birds of her partner, the damned fighter jets that worked to rob the emblematic Zeroes of their vaunted air superiority. Speed, firepower, and finesse all conspired to maraud her precious fighters, four mere craft that spat in her face.

But that wasn't the biggest thing that offended her in this duel.

She fought Enterprise, like all the other times. Like all the times her Empire hungered for power, for prestige of the oceans, for the betterment of her sacred nation, for her own desires… She had clashed with Eagle Union's prized carrier for as long as she could remember, all the times she usurped her visions of a greater Sakura Empire. She saw all as beneath her, mere vermin to stamp out or insects to crush; but no matter how hard they tried, the sight of their repeated foe made her blood boil. The black long coat, the silky white hair, the peaked cap of high Eagle Union rank…

And here Akagi was, battling another who looked almost exactly like her. Like some twisted imitation, an unworthy copy, a sick joke.

She did not know this Federation kansen personally. But she wanted nothing more than to kill this wretch.

The Sakura carrier turned her attention towards her personal scourge as they fought. "Fufufu, has our dear little phantom found herself an impressionable copycat?"

Enterprise said nothing, answering only with her bow with all the determination to skewer the fox. This only brought a strange sense of delight to Akagi as she played along. "Perhaps the stubborn pest needed a constant reminder of her hideousness. For all your grace, you are quite the vicious cretin."

The Gray Ghost's glowering sharpened as she kept up her attacks. But Akagi was no fool; she could see they were intensifying.

And in turn, so did her smile.

"Or perhaps… you needed someone to absolve for your failures!"

"She is not my-!"

Akagi cackled as Enterprise stopped herself from her outburst. The dam was finally broken and she took pleasure at seeing her hated archenemy snap like so. For all the stoicism and veneer of professionalism she exhibited, Enterprise really was no better than she claimed to be. Long had they inflicted pain and grief onto each other, a relationship no sweeter or intimate than any other. Suffering that only they could understand… and exploit.

It made Akagi all the more ecstatic to make Enterprise suffer.

Hot gale of an explosion rocked over Akagi. In the corner of her eye, she could see the annoying missiles were coming too close, too much for comfort. But it wasn't time just yet. The flames licked at her but she ignored them - not when fire of her own lay at her fingertips.

In an unexpected change of tactics, Akagi leapt towards Enterprise, all pretense of evading her arrows gone. The Eagle carrier hastily took aim, impatient for an easy shot.

Then Akagi threw her hand out, revealing what she had hidden behind her sleeves. A ball of hot flame, like any other. But leaving her fingers, it took shape of a great bird of fire, its wings outstretched. It swelled in size, swallowing Enterprise's vision as she gasped in recognition: a feared conjuration learned and practiced by the Sakura Empire, so enamored by their culture of commitment that they'd gladly take it to their graves, their very soul manifesting as a last great blaze of glory.

A kamikaze.

Her mind raced. Aim at it? Akagi was hurtling towards her, she'd be vulnerable. Shoot her? Then the kamikaze will-

Both were coming too close. She didn't have time to decide.

Until a dark figure cut across her view.

A great flash enveloped her. The fiery apparition blossomed into a spectacular display. The kamikaze had hit, but it was not Enterprise who it collided with.

When the fires dissipated, Akagi was stunned to see it was Kestrel, the brunt of the attack present on her chest. An unintended recipient for the unexpected strike she had promised for another.

And as Kestrel collapsed, Akagi was presented with the appearance of Enterprise, her bow long ready, its golden shot ready to go. And as she had committed to her charge, she was now too fast to stop. Too close for Enterprise to miss.

"It's over!"

A brilliant flash. For an instant the world went silent save for the echo of an arrow singing through the air, sprung from its taut string and rigid bow. In that moment, the battle ended as all heads turned to capture the riveting moment.

Kaga watched in horror as her sister reeled back, a ray of fading light over her heart from where she had been hit. Her terrible scream rang in her soul, her heart aching in sympathy for one who shared her flesh and blood.

"AKAGI!"

She quickly caught Akagi in her arms, cradling her. She helped her up on shaky legs, her hand clutching her wound. A sister's hand joined the embrace. Akagi's vision faded in and out before it returned to clarity, seeing Kaga's look of concern fill her sight.

Heaving a sigh, Akagi forced herself up. As she did, she met Enterprise's gaze. They sharpened, daring Akagi to persist. And so she did, hissing tight between her clenched teeth.

A hand tugged her shoulder. "Sister Akagi, don't!"

"She must perish for what she did!" her sister snarled.

"Good luck with that," muttered Zuikaku as she held her sister by the arm. Her blemishes and scratches paled compared to the injuries on Shoukaku. "If you couldn't take her on before, what makes you think you can now?"

Akagi shot her a dirty look before their radios chirped. "All forces, disengage. Return to base! More of the Federation scum have arrived! Comrades, withdraw! We shall claim our victory another day!"

The Sakura kansen restrained a miffed sigh, her temper still brewing bitterly. A hand clasped over hers, and looking up her gaze met Kaga's. Finally, she relented.

"First Carrier Division, withdrawing now… We will meet again, phantom."

The two turned to leave, enticing Zuikaku to do the same. She turned to depart, but not before parting one last look with her adversaries, her gaze ending on the Eagle carrier. "... Until next time, Enterprise." Deed done, she left the scene with haste. Ahead of them, the battered Verusan Entente task force sailed away in the distance, their remaining air fleet and oil leaks trailing after them in their retreat.

And before anyone knew it, the sea was back to being peaceful. The atmosphere so dominated by the sounds of war felt otherworldly in the silence that followed.

Behind the carriers, their friends fell in to absorb the uneasy peace, the storm braved but not escaped unscathed. Reaching the aircraft carriers, San Diego plopped down in weariness as her legs finally gave in to the weight.

"Whew… Talk about hard work under unfair conditions. Thank goodness I'm number one or else we all wouldn't have made it through!"

"That was… quite burdensome," panted Belfast, the exhausted Warspite and injured Javelin beside her. "Never did I think there could be so much in so little time."

"Tell me about it," sighed Cormorant. "There must've been plenty of shots I never got to take on my camera."

Cleveland huffed, dog tired as the rest of them. She glanced behind her. "Oh look who finally arrived…"

Following her stare, the allied fleet were greeted to the Federation response force, a fleet whose appearance nearly matched the one they had to wrest back with all their effort. Federation banners meant to bring relief now felt hollow in their late arrival. At its head, they all spotted Warbler who waved to them. "Kept you waiting, huh?"

"Quite," the Royal maid snarked.

Meanwhile, Buzzard and Vulture ignored the friendly reinforcements in favor of their sister. Helping up Kestrel, they were worried to see the blackened mark on her ash-ridden clothes that paled compared to their own host of sweat and blemishes of an arduous battle. But as severe the injury appeared, both were relieved to see Kestrel stable and conscious.

"You're alright!"

"Yes, I am…" she sighed. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't brush it off that easily, Kestrel," Buzzard reminded her. "You might simply be in shock. Make sure to get checked in at the infirmary ASAP."

Kestrel nodded before noticing Enterprise slowly walk away, her shoulders sagged and arms limp, possessing just enough strength for her pet to return to roost by her side. She plodded with all weariness evident in her appearance before she unexpectedly tripped. Freeing herself from her sisters' hands, Kestrel hurried to the Eagle carrier. "Enterprise, are you-"

"I'm fine," she answered, the reply immediate and resolute as she recovered her footing. "Just…"

A jaded sigh hissed out. She shot back up straight, whirling around to confront Kestrel. "What were you thinking, throwing yourself in harm's way like that? You were in no danger! The attack was for me, not you! Worse, with Akagi's power, who's to say that it wouldn't have consumed us both?!"

Enterprise glared at Kestrel. The Federation carrier stood silent under the concoction of grief, anger, and worry that pierced into her.

"You keep fighting like that and you'll die real soon."

"... I won't die, Enterprise."

Enterprise barely contained her scoff as she stomped away. Buzzard and Vulture gawked at her as she left, disbelief in what had happened. The latter glowered at their own ally in disapproval. "Didn't even say thank you…" Vulture muttered under her breath. Buzzard merely stewed disquietly at the exchange.

Likewise, so too did Kestrel as she stood in solemn silence. Enterprise's words echoed in her head as it hung with shame.

She didn't feel it right to allow harm to be brought to an ally - to a friend. But Kestrel knew that Enterprise wasn't entirely wrong either. Their concerns went both ways: neither had wanted harm inflicted on the other in this terrible conflict.

But there was more to her outburst, she could see it. Before the peace, at the climax of the battle, she had witnessed it. Her mind wrested with its meaning.

What did Akagi mean with her words? What did she know that hurt Enterprise so?

And why did Enterprise react the way she did?

Location: Verusan Entente port of Murska

The fleet finally made it back to dry docks. Coming aboard, the wounded armada could only limp to their living quarters as much as they had floundered back home on sea. The wounded carted to the infirmary, the damaged reported to the armory and workshop for repairs and rearmament, the rest milled about in uncertainty; all defeated and worn from what was hoped to be a climatic first victory.

Pitomnik filtered inside the barracks, her feet in thoughtless motion as they delivered her to the nearest place of rest. Once she arrived, she sat with a plop. Her breathing still needed time to catch up.

Her first battle. Ever since she had created her existence, once instilled with the glory and necessity of duty and defense, had been naught but repetitive patrols and tedious drilling. And only now, after months of her life, she was given a taste of the experience she would have as a ship.

Pitomnik glanced around. On a bunk, she noticed Kaniak, her back turned to the world in a secretive hunch. Yet as furtive as she was, the young destroyer could spy a makeup kit, Kaniak's surly expression in the mirror as she fussed over something she couldn't hear, only see as she dug into her kit. Elsewhere, Upor was spotted, her presence and that of her massive gun demanding a wide berth from all others. Her armor dinged and scratched, none dared to say anything to Upor so long as she maintained her sharp gaze and pursed frown that hinted to a simmering mood within the battleship. Likewise, she said nothing as she immediately went to work tending to her weapon.

Looking down, Pitomnik retreated back to her thoughts, back to her own performance. She honestly didn't know what to think. What to feel. So many sensations - too many to sift through her head. She like all the others underwent the simulations but the real thing frightened her to the bone. Pitomnik considered herself lucky that she managed to hold it together, let alone make it through her first combat mission.

Thankfully, she had Gumrak and the others to thank for.

"You good, rookie?"

The sudden appearance of the ship in question roused Pitomnik back into focus. "Y-yes, I… I think."

"You made it through in one piece," Gumrak reassured, putting a hand on her shoulder. Her wink and assuring smile was in stark contrast to the frizzled strands of her ruby hair and tinge of tear on her clothes. "Win or lose, that's what matters! Just rest for now, take it easy. Doubt there'll be anything big soon so you have time."

Pitomnik nodded her thanks, allowing Gumrak pass further into the barracks, followed as predictably by her close companions, Chuda and Dub, the former abuzz with exhilaration despite her less-than-pristine appearance of a tough skirmish.

"... you see that? You all saw her, right?"

Dub rolled her eyes. "See who, a beared lady? Who are you talking about?"

"Her! The one whom the Silver Star Federation nicknamed The Silver Star Idol! Veteran of the Temptation War and bonafide postergirl of the Federation!"

"... Oh, her," Dub muttered boredly. "Yeah, maybe I saw her. Hard to be certain since we were all trying not to get killed. Didn't think she'd be into archery, though."

Chuda blinked. "Huh? Oh that must've been someone else. Don't recognize her but she had to be from this Azur Lane. Don't know who that ship was, but did you see the way she fought? It was like a pro! If I have the chance, I'd like to know who she was."

"... I will be more than delighted to send you to an untimely rendezvous to make that happen," a voice growled. Chuda jumped at the unexpected - and ominous presence of Akagi. The fox-like woman seemed more towering than she recalled, a dark aura surrounding her distraught appearance. This fact was not helped by her collection of injuries and the most murderous of expressions as Akagi gazed down on poor Chuda.

"Now what was it about that wretch that you wanted to know about, hm? Go on - I'm listening."

Chuda could barely stammer a word, blubbering indignantly in the face of such wrath. She was spared of this when a hand quickly pulled her back so Gumrak could take her place. "Hey, take it easy. She's just curious to know who our opposite number was. Besides, we're supposed to be on the same team now."

"Is that right?" Akagi playfully asked, her visage changing on a dime. "Fufu, of course. How tactless of me. Your Commissary and I do happen to share a common enmity after all.

"... Perhaps more if we include our intolerance of weak mindedness," she quickly added, shooting a spiteful glance towards Zuikaku and Shoukaku as they occupied their own corner of the living quarters, tending to their own wounds. Akagi stalked away before Gumrak and the others could say another word.

"Man, talk about having a stick up her ass. Maybe that's why she has all those tails…" she quietly derided once she was confident their Sakura ally was out of earshot. Gumrak then picked up sounds of approaching footsteps and turning around, she was surprised to see Umely. "Umely, my C-Man! Wasn't expecting to see you."

"Hrmph. The pleasure is all mine," the Commissary greeted back with a wrinkle on her face. She surveyed the interior, seeing the defeated ranks that were once eager and prepared only a few hours ago. The sad sight only served to make her sigh bitterly.

Gumrak glanced around the same sight. "Now it can't be all bad. We all gave them our shot."

"Effort is futile without victory!" Umely snapped. "We were meant to deliver a righteous retribution to our enemies and all we had to show for was a shortcoming! If our comrades have given them our shot as you so claim, then we would have been basking in glory!"

Before Gumrak could react, Umely quickly marched about the barracks, handpicking select ships that remained fit, or at least maintained the appearance of being one. "You! Form up a unit and set sail for patrol immediately! I will not allow our enemies to think we are weak after our first defeat!"

"C'mon Umely," the scarlet-haired destroyer pressed. "We only just lost the first round, there's plenty more ahead before we can decide who won the match."

"Exactly!" the Entente's leader exclaimed, spinning to confront her with a pointed finger. "We've lost the first battle, so it is imperative that we fight harder to win all the others! Only then will our loss today be not for nothing. Only through our diligence will our leaders be avenged, and the Federation's transgressions answered for! Mark my words, this war has only just begun, and so have we!

"... And do NOT forget to refer to me as your Commissary, Gumrak! Don't presume that you'll be excused for your carefree ways forever."

And so their commander stomped off, leaving those volunteered for their new mission - Gumrak included - to dawdle in uncertainty. They slowly collected themselves, their anxiety outweighed by the fear of disobeying their Commissary. Gone was Admiral Tsanev, the old Commissary of peacetime - their new leader made that fact all the more painfully clear.

Pitomnik counted herself lucky that she wasn't chosen, her nerves still jittery. But that did little to assuage her heart for future battles to come.