Another day, another moment of tankery.
As the days went by, so too did the lessons. Every club meeting, a different set of basics to cover. The routines have started to take root and after a handful of days in with club practice, the sense of new-found discoveries and experiences started to fade away.
Around the garage and the lot, the tanks lined in semi-coherent rows. Done and dusted were the days of burning ragnoline in leisurely drives and expending cordite at the firing range; the subsequent day and two saw fit for the teachings to transition away from "the exciting stuff".
To many, the moments of simply taking their vehicles out to shoot and drive became forgotten as they huddled around their respective tanks. As engines slept and guns sat inert, all commotion now came from talk and tinkering.
Hinges squeaked as a metallic grate was raised open. His face shrouded against the sun, Zak studied the exposed engine with a careful eye.
"Hm, let's see…" Extending his hand home to a wrench, the Darcsen went to work. The tool hovered over the engine, pecking at components that caught his attention. He felt like some sort of doctor diagnosing a condition, searching for any ailment he could find and tend to.
He paused, his oily finger now gesturing to a recess among the mechanical organs. "Hey, see this?"
Next to him, Lukas leaned in for a closer look. He adjusted his glasses as he observed. "Yes. The, um…"
"The nuts that fasten the fuel lines should be tightened all the way. It does wonders to make sure pressure's steady. That and keeps the junk more tidy. And… here."
"Anything wrong with it?"
"See you got the filters cleaned… or at least most of it. You missed some spots but nothing too problematic."
Lukas nodded. "Anything else?"
The Darcsen shut the engine cover of their Type 15, the metal plate locking to complete the tank's blue-skinned appearance. "Hinges could use some lubricant…" he remarked.
Zak stood back up, wiping his brow with oily fingers. "Well, everything looks to be in order. Might've missed some finer details here or there. I'm no pro - not yet at least. But other than that, your girl looks good to go."
On the other side, Wilheim quietly giggled. "Girl? I didn't take you to be so romantic, Zak."
"Heh. I'll have you know that it doesn't hurt to be charming to machines," replied the Seamer boy with a teasing look. "You'd be surprised how better you treat 'em.
"Well, that's that. You think you can take it from here?"
"I think so," answered Lukas as Zak handed him back the tools. Hopping off of the stool, the boy took stock of his surroundings. Just as he lended the Landzaats a hand with maintaining their tank, so too were Daniel, Katrin, and Rachel doing the same for others elsewhere. The time away from playing around with their tanks saw to a moment of downtime, and in that break, Lipponen had seen fit to teach another fundamental of tankery: the care and nurturing of their vehicles.
Naturally, this was the one aspect that many were out of their element on, save for gearheads like Zak. Their talents saw them ping-pong from one tank to another, bouncing between crews that needed assistance with all things mechanical. Their assistance proved more worth than all the wrinkled manuals and printed how-tos that everyone relied on, and the clattering of tools was as prevalent as the scent of oil and metal.
'Beats having to haul all the ammo,' Zak mentally commented as he wiped his hands on his gym clothes, the fabric long stained with smudges. His eyes then shifted over to where he could make out his sister, hunched over not the engine of the Type 29, but low half-hidden among the wheels and treads. No doubt was Rachel busy tending to the many bolts and screws nestled in the tight nooks and crannies that made up the tank's suspension system. Another important yet understated facet of tank maintenance, yet for some reason Miss Lipponen saw fit to emphasize the art that was track tensioning (as stressed by a certain tank expert online so she claimed).
The Seamer brother chuckled to himself as he wished his sister good luck. He learned the hard way that tank tracks were definitely a pain to look after.
Elsewhere, the Type 37 rested in its portion of the lot. Feet briskly paced by to and fro but in a day of mundane maintenance it slept docilely. It hung still as a statue as pairs of hands tended to its blue-metal skin.
All hands save for a pair.
As Frederick tossed about a cleaning rag, its once-milky texture marred and blackened by the stench of oil, he couldn't help but peer at the red-haired girl next to him. Reclined on the sloped face of the universal tank's turret, Abbie lounged about. Her own clothes bore the blemished marks of mud, muck, and oil befitting today's agenda. Yet her collection of stains belied the listless nature which the Stark girl was currently in, idle save for a muffled faint humming and a foot that wagged lazily in tune.
The tall Potter boy had seen his friend laze about for the past few minutes and now decided that it was time to address the elephant in the room. "Abbie, aren't you gonna do anything?"
"Like what? I've been chipping my nails on more nails, bolts, nuts, and screws than I've ever seen in my life." their redheaded gunner replied with a slight whine.
"I didn't hear you complain back when we washed the tanks," grumbled Frederick.
"Well I had the hose back then," she answered. "And besides, washing's one thing - learning how to play grease monkey ain't what I had in mind."
"But it's important," stressed the boy. "The tank's ours and we need to figure out how to take care of it."
With her chin, Abbie gestured towards their driver and radio operator as they joined the Seamers in sharing their mechanical skills with teams in need. "Isn't that Danny and Katy's thing?"
Frederick groaned to himself. "Amelia, can you help me out here?
"... Amelia?"
A head lethargically rose from the commander's hatch. With drowsy eyes, Amelia quickly dashed the boy's hopes as she rubbed her eyes. "H-huh? Is it cookie time…?"
Frederick shook his head. "Cookie? No it's… Nevermind."
The Gunther girl yawned. "Sorry, just felt a bit tired. All the talk about engines and tracks made me sleepy and the widgets and gears started to look like clocks, so…"
"Yeah, I get it." Frederick sighed as he looked over the current work done towards their Type 37, their work far from complete on a large tank that hid a slew of details and intricacies beneath its steel hide.
"Hey Amy, when do we get back to shooting stuff?" Abbie asked. "I'm dying for something to do."
Bringing up her little notebook, the Gunther girl flipped through the contents with sluggish fingers. "Um, next target practice comes next week and then the rest will be-"
"Yeah, thanks," cut in their bored gunner. Abbie sank deeper into her leisurely rest. "Can't wait for next week. This club was always something I looked forward to after classes because we'd rock out in our tanks, not babysit them."
"You mustn't overlook the care, Miss Stark." All heads perked up at the sound of their advisor who suddenly graced their presence. Even in light of Abbie's remarks, Lipponen bore her sunny smile. "Today's activity may be boring, tedious, and difficult to understand, but remember that tanks are intricate machines! Like tending a garden, you need to take good care of them or else the flowers will wilt!"
"In our case, rust?" inquired Frederick.
"Well, hopefully not!" assured Lipponen. "Heavens forbid your precious tank reaches that point! But regardless, you get my point. A great result will require an equally great care!"
Amelia thought over her teacher's words. "I wish taking care of a tank was as easy as just watering it every day…"
"Hehe. Maybe it would be a better example to treat tank maintenance like owning a pet then?"
"Hmm, I guess that makes more sense," mused the brunette. "Feed it, groom it, take it to the vet if it gets sick… Oogh, what about picking up after it…?"
Lipponen chuckled to herself. "E-either way, please try to bear with it. These tanks are more than just stuff for us to play around with; they're our responsibility as the tankery club!"
"Hear, hear," Frederick agreed. "I know we have Daniel, Katrin, and the Seamers for this sort of stuff but we shouldn't let them do all the work for us. They're our tanks so we should all do our best to take care of them."
With a groan Abbie sat up. "Oh alright, fine. I just wished we got back to, y'know, the reason we signed up?"
The boy gave her an amused look, shooting a sneaky glance at Amelia to cement the irony at the rhetorical question.
The meaning on the other hand flew over Amelia's head as she roused herself. But even when awake, she still felt laggard. She glanced at Abbie as she hopped off from her roost only to aimlessly saunter by the tank as if merely waiting for something to do. Turning her eyes to further beyond, she made out other tanks as they were tended by their crews. The presence of the club's mechanics were the threads that connected them all together, yet even Amelia could see a certain prevailing mood among everyone.
The work was engaging, but the participation was not quite diligent. Fellow club members loitered around but some had idle hands like Abbie. The air was hush but the energy seemed lacking, the enthusiasm flagging. Only those who had prior expertise seemed the most engrossed.
It seemed that their gunner was not an isolated case when it came to where peoples' interests lay. It seemed tedious technical work was not what many had in mind when joining a club activity about tanks.
Amelia could see where this was going. And in times like this…
"Have you thought of something, Miss Gunther?"
She turned to Lipponen, realizing just now how thoughtful she looked. The idea that hatched in her head was now sizzling on the pan and all she needed to do was put it out on a platter to serve.
And yes, Amelia was feeling a little hungry at the moment.
Climbing out from her hatch, she approached the teacher as her expression livened up. "Um, Miss Lipponen?" the brunette timidly began. "I think I do have something in mind. I just…"
"Don't be so formal Miss Gunther," their advisor replied with a gentle smile. "Whatever it is you'd like for the club to do, don't be afraid to say it to them. As club president, you don't need my permission for everything."
Taking the words into consideration, Amelia stopped as she instead turned towards the rest of the tankery club. The members and their respective tanks in front of her and her own crew and friends around her, Amelia took a quick breath. In her hands the jotted schedule was quietly withdrawn.
"Um, everyone! I have an idea on what we can do afterwards, if any of you are interested…"
As the day fell to late afternoon, the clear skies began to cool. A cheery breeze signaled the onset of evening, the hustle and bustle of a city decorated with the colors of the coming spring. The sun stayed up high to cast growing shadows over the landscape but soon even it would not last. The cold night was coming. But civilization was never ready to sleep as lights abounded in red, yellow, green, and everything in between.
That was the world outside the school, beyond the boundaries and walls of the vast complex that was one of Gallia's few national high schools rooted throughout the nation.
As traffic rolled by, they paid no mind to a gathering of teenagers that stood by the intersection. Devoid of blue matching blazers, cars and trucks passed by unaware that they were students, let alone those of Lion Paw's tankery club.
Rachel tapped her foot as she waited in her sleeveless shirt bearing a stylized printed design. Beside her, Zak settled with a simple tracksuit to better suit the season.
"Where are they?" she wondered.
"Give 'em time," her brother assured. "We're just too early."
"Early? But we're at our appointed time," pointed out Lukas standing near them. Like the Seamers, he had substituted the school uniform for casual wear, opting for a thin simple jacket. Similarly, his sister Wilheim accompanied him wearing a clean jean jacket and trousers yet despite the simplicity in her attire, she maintained an air of elegance around her, attracting quick glances from pedestrians who strolled by. The elderly Landzaat sister simply brushed her hair aside, paying no heed to the secretive stares she drew. Their gazes proved incidental in drawing attention away from their driver Mariah who fidgeted between her crewmates, hiding in their presence.
A haughty scoff was heard. "Early or on time, they are still late. Such lack of punctuality shall never be a trait for I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson!"
As the prideful girl puffed her chest, one couldn't help but notice that past the jersey of dashing blue and pink laces and a silky skirt, Annabelle betrayed the fact that she was adorned in earrings and even makeup. Her fellow club members couldn't help but wonder about the investments in an otherwise simple day out.
Next to her, no one was surprised to see Timothy present with a fawning look on his visage. "Of course not, Ms. Nelson. And as you've asked, I have the complete itinerary with me."
As the pair beamed at what they had in plan, they were ignored by a dark-haired girl in a knitted sweater as Rebeka cast her eyes elsewhere. Aloof, reserved, and her gaze sharp as always, the Type 29's gunner watched intently as a pair of dogs trotted across from them on their walk. A duet of fluffy tots, colored creamy white and chocolate brown captured her utmost attention. For a moment, she cared not her own crew or club members as the tiny dogs passed by.
The mood, though talkative, became deafened by a holler out of nowhere. All heads quickly turned to see themselves joined by more, more members of Lion Paw tankery club who have come to gather. And though the shout came as a surprise, the shock wore off just as quickly upon realizing it came from the only person they knew who could utter such a greeting.
Wyker and his crew nearly collided with the group before they skidded to a stop. "Howdy, punks!" whooped their leader, his energy brimming as always. His hair remained spiky and upright with his goggles and even without his uniform, Wyker remained no different from back at school thanks to his bright blue jacket. But then again, nothing could ever obscure the Arcadian boy's vigor.
Behind him, Cindy and the Sellers twins caught up, their attires more mundane than the boy but nevertheless an exotic choice of leather belts, bracelets, and wing iconography on their shirts and jackets. Joining Wyker and the tankery club at the rendezvous, Cindy cracked a smile. "Hey ya'll, how's it hanging?"
"Got here as soon as we cleaned up," began Nina.
"-Cuz Wyker was really raring for this," finished Tina.
Cindy looked around. "Hold up. Are we missing someone?"
"As a matter of fact, yeah," answered Zak. "The ol' gang's yet to be here."
"I do hope Amelia and the others didn't run into any trouble," wondered Wilheim.
Rachel glanced down at her phone as if a solution could conjure itself on its screen. "Still haven't gotten around to getting their contact info…"
"... Look."
A lone word from Rebeka brought everyone's attention. As they followed her gaze, the tankery club peered afar to find figures of five in the distance. It took a second for the details to come into clarity, but expressions softened in recognition before they even saw who they were.
The five last participants of their school's tankery team finally arrived, breathless and late. "S-sorry to keep you waiting," Amelia apologized between pants.
As everyone gathered around, Zak took the lead. "What came up?"
"N-nothing," both Daniel and Katrin claimed. "It's just-"
"Amelia forgot," came the blunt truth from Frederick. "Hoped to catch her by her dorm only to find out she was down at the cafeteria about to have dinner with a bunch of fried eggs I guess."
The brunette's face grew hot. "I-I'm sorry! My stomach was rumbling after school and I remembered what I was thinking about before."
"Fried eggs?" Rachel inquired with a funny look.
"Nugs are the way to go for the chicken-pacolypse," Abbie quietly snickered behind her friends' backs. She remembered the surreal sight that awaited them when they tracked down their club president, the search aided by the trail of stupefaction from others who witnessed it.
"Well, regardless of what happened it's nothing to fuss over," said Lukas as he glanced at his watch. "We still have plenty of time before we're expected to return to the dorms."
Amelia looked up. "Oh, that's good. Then that means plenty of time for us to do what we came for!" ("Yes, that's what I meant…" remarked the Landzaat brother.)
The Gunther daughter cleared her throat. "Okay everybody. I know tankery club activity's been a teensy bit boring - or not as exciting as it should be. Um, I know you've all been working well and hard for something you- I mean, something we've never done. Which is why I thought it'd be nice for us to do something different for a change…"
And as she turned to the side, all heads followed to see their destination laid in prominent view. Rising high like all the others, a particular megalithic block of shining sleek glass and steel stood apart with its face of curvy foundations and enticing colors, all given a name that read "Seventh Wish" in lettering that glowed like iridescent light.
This was the reason the tankery club had gathered here today.
Amelia joined her friends in looking upon the grand building, either in awe or with anticipation. Shopping malls were no oddities in a city yet they never failed to make an impression, housing any and every conceivable amenity for all who stepped inside through its myriad entrances. And students of the nearby national high school were no exception, serving their desires in a home away from home.
Remembering that this was her idea, as head of the team, Amelia uttered out the first thing she could think of.
"Lion Paw Tankery Club, let's head on in and have fun!"
Peering at the items laid out before her, Amelia was dazzled by all sorts of trinkets that were on display. Organized into regimented rows that consumed practically an entire part of a wall, she saw all sorts of products inherently familiar to someone of her age. She spied out a colorful variety, from keychains to phone covers, often decorated by a variety of product slogans and mascots from simple cartoon bears to Speed the Hedgehog.
She ogled at the sheer diversity present at a collectible rack before Abbie sprung up from behind with her arm around her shoulder. "'Sup Amy. See anything you like?"
"Um, not really," admitted the brunette as she scanned the contents with a hasty eye.
Plucking an item from the rack, Abbie studied it before smirking. "Man, that blue guy's all over the place. Used to play some of those Speed the Hedgehog games myself, but mostly the classics."
Amelia raised her brows in curiosity. "Really?"
"Yep. Number 1, 2, and 3. Played the hell outta them; I still kept the old cartridges too. Bought the rerelease for my PlaySystem first chance I got and haven't let go of it since."
"I don't think I've played much of those games," Amelia confessed.
The Stark girl and gunner brought her in closer with a faux worrying look. "Oh don't tell me you've never played videogames, Amy."
"I-it's not that! I've… seen the movies!"
Abbie sputtered out laughing. "Oh get outta here! But seriously, is there something you've played? Or heck, name a game character that isn't Speed that you know of."
Her commander tried to think. "I, um… There's one, but I don't know if you've heard of her."
The redhead chuckled. "Hit me. Who is it?"
"Segatune, from Hyperconvention Segatune. It's about, erm…"
It took a second for recognition to dawn on Abbie. "Woah wait, I might know who you're talking about. Those games or whatever that's supposed to be about games and stuff. Real meta stuff. Heh, never thought I'd meet someone who'd actually know Segatune!"
"It's kinda embarrassing…" Amelia tried to dismiss sheepishly.
"Nah, it's cool. As far as videogames that are 'out there', I've seen some pretty weird stuff on my own. And I guess you and that Segatune have a lot in common."
Abbie laughed as she rocked the blushing Amelia. But as she shied her eyes away, the brunette spied a familiar figure not too far off from the side. Examining another aisle she made out the Type 29's gunner Rebeka, her curtain of black hair doing little to disguise her from Amelia's notice, much less what cradled in her arms as she bolted away from the register (and the perturbed clerk) with a faint "Keep the change" and with even quieter haste. Rebeka shuffled away but Amelia was positively certain she had seen the quiet girl escape with a small pile of plushies, one in particular a rather dapper-dressed porcavian.
"You're in good hands now, Moinkers…"
Amelia couldn't help but giggle at the sight. She had to wonder what her room was like.
"Hm? Something up, Amy?"
She shook her head. "No, it's nothing."
With the shrug of her shoulders, Abbie moved on. "Well, I see a lot I like but not in the mood to buy (not until I get my next allowance). C'mon, let's see what else there is before we meet up with Freddie and the others."
"Sure!" came the delighted response. Amelia briskly followed Abbie as she led the way, to where neither could say.
As the two exited the store, they returned to the labyrinth of busy corridors. Distant echoes of talk and chatter filled the hallways just as, if not more than the actual people. Rivers of shoppers and guests flowed both ways up and down the route like heavy traffic. Amelia and Abbie became one with it as they sailed downstream into the heart of the shopping mall, passing by rows of outlets and stores of one brand and another. Dazzling advertisement signs interspersed along the center like traffic barriers loudly proclaimed the latest vogues, be it fashion, services, movies, and even news, all bombarding for their attention.
To one side, an open chasm was granted to the two girls, giving not a sign or exotic shop front but a grand display of the open air that was the main atrium. Warm light bathed the vast interior that tied the whole conglomeration together. Even with the night beginning to settle through the skylight, the mood remained lively like morning. Late on such day, the spirit of the midday rush lingered, renewed by the influx of youth returning from their daily grind of school.
Amelia marveled at the sights, seeing both the familiar and the less-known. Shopping malls were not uncommon in Gallia but the ones she had been in back in Bruhl were nothing like this wondrous monument of stylish architecture. With so much held within the uniquely-designed edifice, Amelia was reminded of her own school. Like it, the grand building brimmed with life and experience of its own, like a contained ecosystem.
Every shop they passed by, they craned their necks to peer inside at what was in store, seeing the vast stocks of shoes, jewelry, beauty items, crepes, and even antique souvenirs. But as they went by a clothing and apparel store, a cursory glance from Amelia found something unexpected. Noticing her friend's pause, Abbie did too. Following her gaze, her expression instantly brightened.
"Oh hey, the arcade! Wanna take a look inside?"
The two entered, where their senses were immediately washed in a new environment. Sounds of gameplay and high scores filled their ears and their eyes became swamped with colorful displays, cabinets decked in distinct exteriors and neon-bright signs, and games that spanned for rows wherever they could be. The view through the glass windows from outside paled to the treasure trove that lay on the other side.
Amelia wondered at the slew of games the arcade had to offer, entranced by the genres she recognized but had little experience with such as Street Brawler, Super Donkey Ball, and even a DrEAMS-themed pinball and a classic arcade version of Speed the Hedgehog. Abbie basked at the sights, darting from one game to another to feed her hungry stares in an entertainment buffet. She watched as guests blasted away at digital aliens, polygonal monsters, pixelated goons, or avatars of their fellow gamer in an exotic arena. The temptation to hop in and join them was there, but as Abbie dug out her wallet she remembered to her disappointment she was starved of coins. Or electronic credit, or whatever system this particular arcade accepted.
"Crap. Where's the thingamajig that can take my cash…?"
But right as she paced around in search of the fabled exchanger, Abbie picked up an intriguing sight. Tucked amid the cast of shooting galleries festooned with plastic guns and racing games with immersive controls and setup, there lay a certain game that stood out as the most grandiose of all. There were fake guns befitting of a shooter but arranged not like a gallery, curving around a central steering wheel like a semi-circle. But there was no seat for this driver - the whole stage was decorated in faux wood of an antique corvette. The wide sweeping screen depicted a chaotic naval melee, of wooden airships and iron buccaneers. The action was tense and the clash frantic.
But none proved as loud or as boisterous or as recognizable as the four playing it.
"Frigate by our port side!"
"I see it!"
"Fireships coming dead ahead!"
"Like they'll ever stop us! Hold on!"
"Here comes the next wave with double bosses!"
"Look alive ye scallywags, we be crossing the T and into legend!"
"Aye-aye!"
Abbie could scarcely believe her eyes. She ran up from behind, quickly joining in on the action. "Watch out for that guy, he's gunning straight at ya!"
Nina whirled around to her surprise. "Where'd you show up all of a sudden?"
At the helm station Wyker gave a hearty guffaw. "A new matey joins us! Welcome aboard!"
By this time, Amelia turned the corner in search of her friend. Drawn by the commotion, she was startled to find more than she sought. She slowly approached the ongoing game, the fierce action hot like a bonfire with four - now five - players. The speed and spirit at which Wyker and his gang burned through the digital competition astounded her. Amelia had no idea what this game would be like for her if she tried, but witnessing this level of play she was already convinced that Wyker and his crew were on a whole new level.
On screen, the great ironclad behemoth finally burst into flames and in its sinking, a grand victory rose to congratulate the players for their legendary deed. The total score was tallied, the sheer scope incomprehensible even to someone who was unfamiliar with the game. And when the results were placed on the scoreboard, all were in awe at how much they had dwarfed all others who came before them. Like a mythical hero, an impossible feat was attained and the score would sit immortalized for all to see… and await a new challenger to surpass it.
Wyker celebrated the occasion with the loudest whoop. "Whooo! High score, baby~!"
"Hell yeah!" cheered Abbie.
Amelia smiled at the good spirits. "Hey Wyker."
"Ahoy there, Amelia. And you too, Abbie," he added before throwing a friendly slap on her shoulder.
The brunette leaned over to closely inspect the game now that the action had ceased. "What game was that?"
"Something that must've been made for us," remarked Cindy.
"And not just because there's four of us," interjected Nina.
"Though it did help," quipped Tina.
A chuckle came from their ringleader. "An unexpected treasure, one even we never dreamt of. But after seeing it with our own eyes, there was no mistaking it. Whoever cooked up that game must've been like us, or someone who couldn't help but find Arcadian history a goldmine."
Amelia cocked her head with intrigue. "What do you mean?"
"Here, see this flag?"
Turning around, Wyker showed the two his bright blue jacket. But as much as they had seen it, what caught their eyes was the decoration. On the backside, a large stylized eyepatched skull with wings was emblazoned in bone-white. Up close, it was the two's first time getting a good look at it.
A hum came from Abbie as she nodded at the emblem with approval. "Nice. So what about it?"
"Well, bit of history, so dig the wax outta your ears and listen up." Wyker cleared this throat before commencing, his temperament suddenly more subdued.
"You see, back in the olden days Arcadia was nothing but floating islands, wooden airships, and swashbuckling buccaneers. But among the merry band of air pirates, there was one kind that stood out from all the rest. Plundering only from those who deserved it and thirsting for adventure in the endless skies for adventure's sake, it was the Blue Rogues who became the most famous and spirited of all. Those who called themselves proud and noble pirates bore these colors as they sailed the endless skies."
Amelia and Abbie were impressed as they listened. They had heard of the far-off world known for adversity and exploits that sounded like tall tales, embellished across the ages as written history passed along like waters of a winding stream. But classes were oft to gloss over the details, so to hear their classmate shed light on a past outside of their own brought considerable inquiry for the native Gallians.
"Woah, that's cool!"
"Better than cool, me mateys. It's our heritage."
This made Amelia pause. "What do you mean? Are you…?"
"Related?" Wyker grinned. "Hell yeah we are! See, the Blue Rogues were famed for their tenacity and guts, their names carved in legends through their deeds, each one more fantastical and impossible than what came before. But of them all, none were as legendary as one named Vyse who tamed the unimaginable, bested the invincible, and discovered what laid behind every sunset. Pirates and all those who came through Arcadia knew him as Vyse the Legend. But among his close companions, he was an Inglebard. And so would his sons, daughters, whoever… And right now, me."
"Same deal for me!" chimed in Cindy. "Cindy Thompson, long descendent of Vyse's old pal and skipper Aika!"
"And for us too," spoke up Nina. "We're the great-great-whatever-daughters of an ancient princess named Fina-"
"-Though nobody can remember where she was from," finished Tina. "But either way, she was as good a crewmember as any."
Amelia and Abbie looked at them with slacked jaws. "No way…" breathed Abbie.
"Hard to believe it all, ain't it?" joked Wyker. "But that be the honest truth. Guess it was fate for us to be together like this. Either that or it's just in our blood. The days of pirates may be long over but we've still got that itch for adventure. Landlubbing now, but I've always had my head to the skies. Tankery'll be the next best thing we can do 'til the day comes for us to sail the big blue above. Got this name to live with and live up to."
This made Amelia fall silent. As fascinating as the legend was or how comforting it was for such friendship to hold strong throughout the decades, she couldn't help but feel sad. Sad knowing the legacy and how much it remains alive to the present; sad knowing how much it matters to those who are to bear their names.
Sad knowing that she couldn't help but think about herself.
Remembering something, Abbie glanced down at her phone and caught the time. "Aw jeez, we better step on it. It was nice chatting with you guys."
"Likewise," answered Cindy as she winked.
"Until it's time for us to set sail back home!" declared the boy. "Have a fun time with your crew, you two.
"And Amelia…"
Quickly the Gunther daughter stopped in her tracks. Meeting Amelia with a parting glance, Wyker gave her a smile. But where it was often an expression that exuded bravado, it was now one of warmth and understanding.
"Don't let your name worry ye too much. Just be you."
A tender smile was shared back and before anyone knew it, the two parties went their separate ways without anyone knowing. But to Amelia, she would remember this.
After departing the arcade, Amelia and Abbie found themselves passing through a different congregation. Shops phased out in this section of the mall, the interior taking on a more subdued look. But it was the lights and signs that stepped up to dazzle all who ventured here. In the place of glass displays and outlets, the pair found themselves greeted with rows of illuminated posters lined like grand portraits, all showcasing woven tales of one stripe or another.
Arriving at the mall's cinema, Amelia marveled at the row of posters that showcased tonight's entertainment, the genres varied and titles enticing. People of all age milled about in queues, the sight of ticket stubs and scent of popcorn prevalent in the lounge lit like a stage.
She eyed the concession stands with a keen interest, the theater foods provoking a particular sense of hunger in her. Popcorn galore, buttered, salted, or caramelized tugged at her even though she wasn't here to watch anything.
Amelia glanced away only to find herself inadvertently walking into someone. She gasped in surprise. "S-sorry!"
"Ah! Apologies my- huh?"
Amelia blinked in astonishment as she and Annabelle exchanged looks. The surprise was shaken off as Annabelle straightened up. "Ah! So it was you."
"Again, I'm sorry for-"
"Nay, nay I say! A friend of I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, shall always be greeted with cordiality! All is already forgiven!"
Timothy appeared by her side (unsurprisingly). "Oh. Hello there, Amelia. How are you?"
"Um, good," answered the brunette. She peeked at the set of movie posters and advertised listings. "Were you two thinking of watching something?"
"Oh if only time were in ample supply," responded Annabelle. "I would adore to see Fantasmia in theaters while it's still showing. Or The Indices of Yore which is proving to be a sleeper hit! The movie experience is one that musn't be so casually ignored! The full magic can only be captured on the widest screen with surround sound which many studios take advantage of!"
Amelia smiled. "You really like watching movies in theaters."
"As it should be!" declared Annabelle with a thump against her chest. "The cinemas are a well-established locales with culture unlike anything else! A resplendent art gala may draw crowds but only in a theater may the audience become one with the art. To lounge before the big screen, seeing a brilliant display worthy of a masterpiece while your ears are graced with a score of a musical; sometimes there will even be a sensation of touch to further wrap you into their world! To witness these arts is to pay homage to the work and talent poured into them, good or bad (but better if it's good)!"
Now Amelia looked surprised. "Wow… you must be really passionate about going to the theaters. But um, doesn't it get…?"
"Expensive? Pah! What of it?" Annabelle dismissed with melodramatic wave of her hand. "A pittance to sacrifice in appreciation of the arts and the experience. And besides, that's what premium membership is for~! Of course, I also make sure to acquire the BreRay discs once they come out. The home experience is nothing compared to the authenticity of the opening premiere but I pay the artists their due to relive that experience."
"She should see her collection she has at home, Miss Amelia," added Timothy. "All the films and even TV shows Ms. Nelson has seen all throughout her life. Stocked from floor to ceiling for her to rewatch and enjoy at her convenience."
"Our convenience too," Annabelle hastily whispered as an aside. "Don't you forget that."
Amelia was at awe at the thought of so much movies, all lined on crammed shelves wherever there was space, so long as there was a spot reserved for a sofa and the screen. Like a library confined to a single room, brimming with more content than one could acquire in a lifetime.
Of course, as she imagined it, Amelia realized a question. "You don't bother with the, what do you call it… 'streaming'?"
In an instant Annabelle's face recoiled with offense. "Bah! Of course not! I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, have placed myself above the peasant notion of such frivolity! Such a disservice to the movie-going experience to rely on an outside client and their fees! I don't care if it's Contzen's or whatever, those services are a vulgar imitation of the movie-going experience! Might as well be pirating!"
'Is it that bad…?' the Gunther daughter thought with puzzlement. 'I thought it was very convenient for everybody.'
Rant over, the pompous twin-tailed girl released a sigh. "Ah, to bask in the timeless classics, when times were simpler and standards more lenient to daring visions. Gone With the Music, Lion Kingdom, Star Tales, Myrassic Park… Oh the days when creativity and bold vision were lauded. When exquisite works were crafted for the sake of the art and storytelling and nothing more. Nowadays it's more about making sequels or chasing fads."
The sentiment made Amelia thoughtful. "But there are still good movies today, right? Maybe people will be talking about how good they are years from now like what we're doing."
"Of course. Creativity hasn't died just because tastes have changed. The prize of excellency comes with plenty of works that are not remembered as fondly. But that should not discourage filmmakers from trying! The pursuit of eminence is something everyone including I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, shall endeavor!"
Timothy applauded her with a serene smile. "I'm sure you will become a successful actress when you grow up, Ms. Nelson. Or even a director, if-"
A hand instantly found itself clamped over the boy's mouth before he could spill any more. "Timothy, you loose-lipped duck!" Annabelle hissed, her outburst coming out as a muted squeal. Glancing toward Amelia, she could see her face was deep flush with red.
"P-pardon me! I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson must be off!"
And with that, the girl scampered off whisking her professed servant in tow. Amelia was left stumped at their sudden retreat, wondering what it was that made the girl so cocksure become so uncharacteristically flustered. As astounding the revelation was, there was nothing about it that Amelia found so unusual. Quietly, she bid Annabelle her optimism that she would become what she wanted. She couldn't imagine the theatrical, if pompous, girl be anything else.
Suddenly, Abbie popped in behind Amelia. A cuddle ambush coincided with a giggle from the fellow Type 37 crew and a surprised yelp from the tank's commander. "There you are, Amy! Nearly lost you. Thought you wandered off on your own."
"S-sorry about that," apologized Amelia.
"So what were you up to? Don't tell me you were thinking of catching a movie right now."
"No, I wasn't," came the assurance. "They happened to be on my mind just now…"
Elsewhere in the mall, the atmosphere could not be any more different. In contrast to the dazzling lights that evoked the stage and bold posters to offer a window into the silver screen, the warm lights down in the bookstore were glowing and consistent. Where lines and queues regulated the cinemas, the thicket of shelves and aisles saw to a different sort of order as visitors perused the contents of knowledge.
One such visitor happened to be Frederick. The boy sifted through the racks of organized books with an eye keen for interest. He knew not what exactly he sought, but by searching he became engrossed. The search for knowledge did not discriminate even if he had a certain subject in mind.
As he browsed the collection, Frederick knew he was not the only guest welcomed to the library: scholars young and old inhabited the halls of esteemed documents and biographies, imaginative youths sought the stories of fiction and adventure, and those with a preference to the development of worldly matters targeted the magazine articles of topics A through Z. Of the latter group, he knew Daniel was somewhere over there, searching for his own interests before they rendezvoused back with Katrin. And until then, Frederick was comfortable in the time allocated to him as he scouted what could be deemed worthy of purchase.
But as he finished looking through one shelf and moving onto another, the teenage boy found himself nearly bumping into a unexpected figure. The two flinched with surprise, not just because they almost walked into each other but because as Frederick stopped to look at the girl, he realized it was Mariah Evans.
He was quick with the greeting, coming as a half-apology. "Hello, Mariah."
Even as the girl was put at ease by a fellow student and club member, Mariah kept a withdrawn posture from the towering boy. "H-hello…"
"Oh there you are," came another voice. This time, the familiarity evoked no astonishment as Frederick glanced up to catch Wilheim and Lukas turning the corner. He smiled to present the two a friendly demeanor as acquaintances met another.
The Landzaats returned the gesture with their own. "Hello, Frederick," greeted Lukas.
"A pleasure to meet you here," added Wilheim. "I take it you're looking for some books for class?"
"That and something else for good measure," answered the Potter boy, appreciative of the sister's astute observation. "You too?"
"No. But Mariah is." A hand patted the shy girl on her head. "I've been helping her find a textbook for a certain subject she wants to study in."
"I see. May I ask for what field she's interested in?"
"Nursing," Wilheim replied with a motherly tone. "Mariah told me she wants to be a nurse when she grows up."
The Evans girl blushed but Frederick nodded in respect to her honest desires. "Well, there should be plenty of material for her here. I wish you luck in finding what you need and your studies."
"... T-thank you, Frederick," came the stammered response from Mariah. Wilheim beamed at her driver who fearful and introverted as she was, possessed a kind and candid heart. Wilheim found the most charitable soul within the timid girl to be highly endearing.
"Thank you so much for the kind words, Frederick. Now, if we may return to finding it…"
"Go on ahead, Wilheim," suddenly chimed in her brother. "There's something in this section I wanted to find."
As the caring young woman and her dear friend departed to continue their search, Frederick found himself alone with the brother. Lukas pushed his glasses up as the two boys were left with only each other, a light cough to dispel the odd company. "Don't mind me. I'm just looking for something to read."
"Have at it," encouraged Frederick. "There's a lot to go around."
The loader for the universal tank returned to facing the aisle, but as he did Frederick picked up on Lukas's presence right beside him. The Landzaat boy peered through the same section as he was. Frederick kept his attention to the bookshelves but kept their close proximity in mind.
It wasn't long until Lukas spoke up again. "So Frederick…"
"Yes?"
"What classes do you enjoy?"
The Potter boy paused to think. "There's no real subject at school that I don't like… maybe biology since that's never really stuck with me. If I had to pick which ones I like the most, I'd say… social studies and PE."
Lukas glanced at him with brows raised high. "Social studies and PE? Wow, a bit of both sides."
"So I've been told," Frederick snorted in humor. "Almost like it's weird for anyone to like studying and staying fit. But I manage."
"I imagine so. Ah right, you were the loader and former commander of your tank crew back then. I remember now."
"Well, I'm just the loader now. But I still lend Amelia a hand or two with running things. I reckon I'm going to be doing plenty of heavy-lifting for her." Suddenly a groan. "... I did not mean to make that pun just now."
The slightest chuckle escaped from Lukas's small smile. "It's alright. My sister is like that as well considering the roles she has in our tank. Wilheim's always been the responsible one ever since I was born."
"Just as I've been looking out for Abbie since we were kids," nodded Frederick. "Of course, now I got three more heads to keep track of, one of which seems to screwed on a tad loose if I'm being honest. But we'll make it work."
Another pause as the two consolidated their thoughts before Frederick made his first move. "So what classes or subjects do you like?"
"Foreign studies," Lukas replied without hesitation. "I like learning about the world outside Gallia or even Europa. The Far East is of my particular interest. There's something about the unfamiliar and the exotic that intrigues and captivates me."
This raised an eyebrow of intrigue from the tall Potter boy. "Oh? That's interesting."
"I've been interested in any opportunity to see the world. My family took me to Edinburgh once to tour the sights of Dokkum. Or at least, what we could at the city we were in - Hadleigh, if memory serves. It happened years ago and I'm still yearning for more. The sheer amount of foreign culture and customs always gets me wanting to learn and I hope I get to experience as many of them as I can. Tankery - or should I say, sensha-dō - is just the tip of the iceberg."
Frederick gave him an encouraging smile. "You got your work cut out for you, Lukas. The passion and drive to learn and educate oneself is always something I respect."
Lukas turned away bashful. "I… admire people who're like that too. Especially you, Frederick."
The boy smiled in thankfulness at the compliment. "Well thank you." And with that, Frederick went back to looking through the shelf, picking out those that caught his eye.
For Lukas who remained next to him, it was the not the trove of knowledge that continued to catch his eye but the tall athletic and erudite boy that did.
Sometime later, Amelia and Abbie paced down the wide corridor of the ground floor. Under arched walkways and decorative beams, they raised their heads in recognition of their meeting place. Stepping forward the space opened wide, the wide boundaries disappearing into an expansive atrium. Brand signs and kiosks circled the space like a sports arena with some vendors and ad displays in the middle joining the flocks of visitors as participants.
As the two allowed themselves to be surrounded by the loud buzzing of chatter that was the food court, it took a moment for Abbie to find who they were looking for. "Hey, over there!"
Even when seated by a table, Frederick's presence made him stand out. His raised hand proved redundant as he waved them over. "Hey! Over here."
Next to him, Katrin and Daniel looked up to greet the last two members of their team as they arrived. As they took their seats, Katrin gestured to the nest of wrappers on the table. "Bought some fries and sandwiches. Go ahead and have some."
"Don't mind if I do~," said Abbie as she immediately snatched a morsel. Plopping down, it did not take her long to notice what else occupied the table: a stack of books situated by Frederick's seat. She eyed them with a coy smirk. "Ooh, watcha got there, Freddie? Went out of your way to buy more 'required reading' for your classes?"
The boy rolled his eyes. "Don't make it sound so unusual. Besides, I got myself something that might be useful for all of us. Check it out."
As he held up a book, Abbie leaned forward to read the title. "'Modern Stratagems of Europa: Analysis of Military Maneuvers and Tactics of the 20th-Century'. What's that even about?"
"The study of military plans and strategies conducted during the first two Europan Wars, as documented and analyzed by military staffs on all sides," Frederick explained, eager to explain his latest finding. "Think of it like a textbook for how to do battle if you were like a leader, an advisor, or even a tank commander."
"Lemme guess, this is for tankery."
"Yep. Figured it would be good for us to get an idea not just on how to operate the tanks but how our club should act in a tank fight. Of course, we're only doing this as amateurs but it never hurts to gain insight on what to do based on years of conflict. History, after all, is about learning from all those before us."
Abbie looked impressed. "Huh. Didn't expect you to go out of your way to snag that thing. Might be worth cracking a peek into, but I'll leave the brainstorming to you."
"... Oh and this is for you by the way. Work on your grades for math."
"Oh come on!"
Amelia chuckled at the two's antics. As she nibbled on her snack, she noticed Katrin return to tinkering with her radio set from home. By her side sat an extra-large coffee mug of strong sugary aroma while on the other lay a screwdriver and plier that exchanged places to suit the girl's needs as she worked on the device. Tinny voices and filtered sounds slipped from the speakers as she fiddled with the inner workings.
"-so I was like, you bought those shoes for fifty ducats? And she was like 'No, even better… I got them for fifty-one!' Now how 'bout Bzzt! -something to consider: 'bout a hundred years or so ago, people used to cream themselves at Valks. Okay, so you got these mythical beings worshipped as divine for their power, able to make pure ragnite shoot lasers and crap. But you know where they and those Yggdists are?... in shambles if they weren't already. You know why governments are so darn ornery with those birth certificates? It's because the men in black snatch 'em up first chance they get! And where do the flaming blue ladies go? That's right, to the top secret Bzzt!"
Then as her eyes wandered, Amelia then noticed a magazine in Daniel's hands. She glanced at the boy and saw that he seemed engrossed in the journal article. Intrigued by what captured his attention, Amelia peered down to try to read the cover. The curved face made it difficult to make out the title but from the picture of an airplane…
"Hey Daniel, what're you reading? Looks like something to do with airplanes."
The Czherny boy was roused from his reading as though he was shaken awake. "W-wha? Oh this. It's uh, yeah it's about airplanes and aviation."
This stirred curiosity within Amelia. "Are you thinking of being an airplane guy when you grow up?"
Daniel sputtered out a laugh. "'Airplane guy'? That- that was actually funny. But to answer your question it's… it's because of my father."
"Your dad's an airplane guy?"
"W-well, yeah," Daniel admitted as he restrained a chuckle. "He… he works at Isara. You know, Isara Aeronautics, IA."
This stunned Amelia who leapt up from her seat. "No way… Really?!"
Catching wind of the conversation, Katrin leaned in to contribute. "Yep, you heard him. His dad really does work at Isara; somewhere pretty high up if I remember. And in one of the most prestigious aviation industry in Gallia, if not all of Europa, it's a really big deal."
"So that explains your natural mechanical talent," Frederick realized. "It's incredible that you have a father in such a distinguished job. From what I recall, Isara is renown all over for their high-quality planes and other aircraft that's pushed all sorts of boundaries over the years. You'll find their name on everything from airliners, helicopters, fighter jets, and even space shuttles."
"Dude, that's wicked," Abbie expressed with awe. "I wouldn't be surprised if your whole family lived in a fancy mansion or something. Bet they drive around in sweet-ass cars too."
Amelia concurred with an energetic nod. "That's so cool, Daniel! Even if I feel queasy about airplanes it's so cool that you have a dad like that! Even mine doesn't work at an awesome place!"
Despite the praise, Daniel glanced aside with doubt. "Y-yeah, it sure is…"
Back on the move but this time in the company of her fellow crew, Amelia hopped along the polished white floor. "Okay, so where to next?"
Frederick shrugged as he shouldered his bag of books. "Beats me. We still got a bit of time left before we need to meet up with the others."
"Then hell, let's just go somewhere," vouched Abbie now refueled and re-energized to explore the mall once again. "Got time for one last sightseeing on the agenda."
A fascinating idea popped in Amelia's head. "Hey, you think there might be a place for tankery here?"
Katrin hummed with thought. "Maybe, maybe not. I haven't checked the brands that are tankery-related or if they're here."
"Heh. We'll know it when we see it," joked Abbie. "Bet it's got a tank on display."
"That would be perfect!" Amelia resoundingly agreed.
Frederick allowed himself to be humored at the notion. But as amusing as it was, time was limited. "But seriously guys, where to? Can be anywhere."
Amelia looked around to find something that caught her eye. But like looking for a tree in a forest, there was no shortage of such things that competed for her interest. Only when she turned to the other side did she notice they were standing right outside of a store, the entrance wide open and inviting.
"How about this!" she declared before merrily skipping inside. Frederick glanced up, his brows furrowing as he read the sign.
"The… toy store?" The general vibes of the store made Frederick feel weird but seeing the others head on in after Amelia, he relented and followed suit. A student diligent in studies and responsibilities rarely mixed with a whimsical locale so often home to kids and adolescent memories.
Perhaps it was that nostalgia that brought even teenagers here for the toy store was populated by fans and collectors. Amelia, Abbie, Katrin, and Daniel were impressed by the range of products on sale, from simple dolls to the typical action figure and trading cards and board games. Kids, including those who still were at heart, were welcomed with anything they could be interested in.
A certain sight made Abbie grin from ear to ear. "Yo, check out these airsoft guns!"
"'Wild Riders' race cars, huh. Never thought you guys would still be selling," remarked Katrin with delight.
"Look at all these RC cars and helicopters!" gasped Daniel as he beheld the stock.
Seeing all sorts of toys filled Amelia's heart with pleasant thoughts. She remembered how she too used to play with some of them so many years ago. And now here they were, on the shelves today. Nowhere near the same ones she used to own, but she recognized them well enough to feel wistful of her childhood.
As she was about to meander to the next aisle, Amelia jumped as she found herself nearly walking into someone (again). The other person shared some of the guilt with his own lack of awareness as he skidded to a stop, an apology quick on his lips.
"Sorry. My bad… Amelia?"
"Zak?" the Gunther girl gasped. True to her sight, the Darcsen boy was right in front of her, bag in hand as was his sister Rachel and even Wilheim Landzaat. Three Darcsens but they were no ordinary descendents of an ancient people - they were all more of their club members.
"Woah, how'd you find us?!" exclaimed Rachel with a playful look of shock before she smiled. "Wassup, Amelia?"
Wilheim welcomed her club president and fellow club member with a friendly wave. "Hello, Amelia. And I see the others are all here too. Didn't think we'd see you all here."
"Must be a small world," joked Zak.
Abbie snickered as she joined the chance run-in, the others close in her wake. "You can say that again. So what's up y'all?"
"Oh just moseying around," replied the Seamer brother, his expression rather sheepish. There was no hiding the shopping basket in his hand as many eyes were drawn to it, peering at the contents for a clue.
Katrin's face brightened up. "Ooh, is that BYGO?"
As Amelia looked inside, there was no denying the distinct packaged boxes brimming with eye-catching displays of brick and studded creations, all bearing the iconic emblem of the world-famous toy brand from the Nord Republic.
Daniel picked up on something else present in the basket. "And what else… 'Transfigures'?"
Zak diverted his gaze as he scratched the back of his head. "Heh. I'm uh-"
"My bro's a fan of those stuff," finished Rachel, finding great amusement in explaining on her brother's behalf. "Been playing with BYGO since he was a teeny-baby and later got into the Transfigures because he found robots turning into cars and stuff to be the coolest thing ever."
"Hehe, what can I say?" Zak finally spoke. "Been able to build or fiddle around with these things never get old. I'm a lifelong fan."
Wilheim giggled. "I see you're a playful child at heart. But out of all the things for people to enjoy, they perfectly suit you, Zak."
"You too, Rach," the boy added, a good-natured smirk on his face as Zak turned the tables on his sister. "You love these things as much as I do."
Rachel hid her slight blushing behind her hand. "Oh come on, who doesn't?"
"Preach!" Katrin agreed wholeheartedly. "Used to own a few BYGO sets myself and they were my childhood. Man I can't believe how far they've gone with these designs and new pieces."
"Same for me too," Daniel added. "Though I haven't gotten around to getting anything new since, er, forever. I… gotten more into Transfigures."
"Now there's a fellow fan! You get anything from the new toyline?"
Now it was Daniel's turn to look abashed. "Um, c-can I say I liked the cartoons more…?"
Zak shrugged. "Hey, nothing to be ashamed of. I don't have the time, money, or shelf space to get everything that comes out. I save up for my favorite characters or designs, especially with how pricier they're all getting."
"True…"
As much as he wanted the lively chit-chat to continue, Frederick paid his mind to the time. "Well, better not you all up. There's barely any time until we all need to meet up and head back to the dorms."
Lifting his shopping basket, Zak remembered the weight on his hand. "You're right. Let's head out, you guys."
But right as the group was about to start mingling towards the checkout lanes, a group of teenagers suddenly walked by, a teenager among them cutting through in a brash hurry. He bumped into Zak, the Darcsen reacting to the intrusion with an open palm as he stepped back to let the boy pass. An inaudible muttering was offered before he walked off to rejoin the others now on the other side to survey the shelves.
The Lion Paw students gaped at the thoughtless behavior before they simply shrugged and moved on. But as Amelia took a step to join them, her ears caught furtive whispers from those teens.
"Score!"
"Dark-hair won't be missing this."
She stopped dead in her tracks. Peeking behind her, Amelia made out the teens in a huddle. But even their secretive nature could not hide a decorated box held in one's hands. It was a toy package like any other, but Amelia recognized it as a something more: something her suspicions had seen before!
She quickly whirled around to her friends. "Zak! Check your basket!"
The boy nearly jumped at the urgency. "The basket? What are you… Hey wait."
Rachel scratched her head. "Is it just me or are you missing… Huh?! Hey!"
The girl swiftly stormed off, stomping past Amelia and towards the teens, youngsters in all sorts of attires and appearances. But whoever they were, their hairs were all without a violet pigment.
"Hey! Hey you!"
Heads from all of the teens turned in unison to stare right at a purple-haired girl approach them with a glowering expression. One of the boys, assumed to be their ringleader, stepped forth. His drawl and spiky short trim were distinguishing signs. "What do you want?"
"What my brother was about to buy, before one of you took it from us," firmly stated Rachel.
"Please hand it over," came the order as Amelia found herself right by her friend's side.
The huddle from the teens turned into a line as they shifted to face the two. They all exchanged looks and hushed murmurs of disbelief with each other, even the one whom Amelia and Rachel recognized as the thief. The stolen merchandise remained in his clutches as he attempted to conceal it behind him. Everything about his efforts were feigned as was the posse that began to resemble more and more like delinquents, their numbers threatening to surround the Lion Paw girls.
"What the heck are you babbling about?" said their leader with an offended face. "You accusing us of stealing?"
"Oh and what's that in your hands?" barged in Abbie, pointing at the box in their hands.
The thief held it up but continued to hold up the pretense. "This? I just got it from the shelf."
"You kidding me? You didn't even go that far," argued Rachel.
The boy scoffed. "And how would you know? You weren't looking."
"Tch. Leave it to stinkin' dark-hairs to make a big deal out of everything."
Rachel and Abbie were left in stunned shock. Dark-hair - the term whose history was as old as Europa when the ancient Valkyrurs conquered the land and casted the Darcsen people as villains rather than victims. A name as old as the suffering and injustice the people had endured, an appellation so simple yet filled with the disdain and prejudice intended by those who fell for the centuries-long belief.
And evidently, these group of teens were part of those who still believed in the Darcsen Calamity.
The Seamer sister scrunched her face in anger. "Listen you-!"
A hand from Zak snatched her by the arm before Rachel could get anywhere. He kept an eye on her sister, determined to keep her away from the hooligans. But at the same time, he held her back from making the tension hotter than it was already. Zak maintained his calm even with a rather cold expression. "Look, we're not trying to start anything. I'm missing something and I just want it back."
But the gang's ringleader was still having none of it. "It's just a freaking toy."
"Maybe." His gaze shifted to Amelia who faced him and his gang without anger in her gaze or a friend to hold her back. Stern as her visage was, there was no fearlessness. Yet that did not stop Amelia from standing up for what was right.
"But what matters is that something was taken from Zak. It's not about what it is, it's about the fact that it was stolen."
"She's right." The voice drew attention toward Wilheim as it became her turn to intervene. "Stealing is never right, no matter how small it is. There was no reason to stoop to something so low for, ahem, 'a freaking toy' to borrow what you said."
The thief turned his nose away from yet another Darcsen. Yet his eyes betrayed the slightest peek at Wilheim and her ample chest (he was not alone in this regard). "Pfft. You'd have to prove it was yours and not just something we found… if you can. Otherwise, finders-keepers, bitch," he said, finishing it was a leering gaze towards Amelia.
"... I'm sorry, would you mind repeating that?" But as innocent as Wilheim made the question sound, Amelia and her friends instantly felt a chill in the air.
The teen paused. Even he and his posse could feel something was off but not aware of what it was. "... Why should I?"
Wilheim simply smiled. "Because believe it or not, I have been overhearing this little disagreement since the start. Even against my fellow Darcsens, I would have been willing to overlook your rude behavior. But when my friends stepped in and you insulted this kind girl who can stand up for right and wrong, well…
"Let's say I already heard what you called her, and your attempts to play dumb only made things worse. You should leave now while you still can."
Everyone present shivered as if electricity zapped the air. All bluster and further words, even from those that Wilheim considered friends, evaporated and fled. And eventually so too did the gang the moment their ringleader relented. They shuffled after him as the thief who stole the merchandise tossed it aside, muttering all the way before they all walked out of sight, out of earshot, and hopefully out of mind.
A heavy silence filled the store before Wilheim spoke up again. Glancing at her, everyone saw that her expression was like nothing had happened. "Oh dear, it's nearly time, isn't it. Shall we get going?"
As evening darkened the sky for the setting night, the grand lobby continued to see visitors entering and leaving. But soon, the passage of visitors would dry up as more and more began to leave for the day. And gathered there, the contingent of Lion Paw's tankery club awaited their time to depart.
Finding an open bench, Amelia was glad to have a chance to rest. But the weariness came not from her feet from walking but from her chest. As relieved as she was, she could not put past that incident behind her. The resolution was still too fresh in her mind.
Zak took a seat beside her, leaning back. A satisfied sigh came from him as he rested, shopping bag by his side.
"... You're okay, right?"
To Amelia's relief, Zak nodded. "Yeah. To tell you the truth, this wasn't the first time it's happened. Me and Rachel grew up with fair-minded folks but once in a blue moon we'd get someone who still treat us like we're bad news. Most we got were weird shifty looks but on bad days… I swear, it's always the ones hanging out on the wrong parts of the internet. Probably dense enough to wonder why we just don't dye our hair 'to be normal'..."
Amelia stayed silent as she cast her head down. Although the Darcsen's plight, prejudices, and eventual redemption were common knowledge, she still found it hard to believe that some of the enmity continued to exist. The world was good, if not perfect, but Amelia was disheartened to hear Zak's experiences. Decades of equality could never quite erase centuries of old thinking. Today's incident was proof of that. Where those boys found their bigotry she scarcely knew. She only hoped that they never crossed paths, and certainly hoped they weren't fellow students at Lion Paw either.
"Thanks for what you did back there," the Seamer brother continued quietly. "It means a lot to us. If you or Wilheim hadn't stepped in, I think we'd be in trouble. Darcsen teachings encourage nonviolence, or at least inspire us to be peaceful, but there's only so much we can do to avoid these sort of things. Rachel definitely would've tried to take 'em all on. Heh, I'd give her hand if she decided to really throw down."
"I heard that~," teased Wilheim as she now occupied the space on Amelia's other side. "Our ways were to help show the world that we were innocent. We would only raise our hand in self-defense. Of course, it was understandable for your sister to be angry. As much as I sympathize with people, those boys' behavior was most terrible."
"It's rare for her to scare people off like that," informed Lukas as he wandered into the conversation, his expression serious. "Makes it all the more telling what took place."
Recalling how Wilheim defused the situation, Amelia could only shiver as she nervously glanced aside. Her perception of the Landzaat sister as a kind, mother and mature lady had now been called into question by the power she had not thought possible within her. But Wilheim's warmth was felt once more when her rested on Amelia's head. "Thank you Amelia, for your help."
"I-it's nothing," the brunette tried to downplay with flustered cheeks. "We're friends, I just did what anyone would've done."
"And that's why we're glad to have you," Zak remarked with a charming wink. His sister Rachel plopped down next to him, her smirk aimed at Amelia. "Glad we voted for you as club president," she joked. Shadows fell over them as the rest of the Type 37 crew arrived to pitch in with their compliments.
"That's right! Gotta show those dickheads where to shove it!" boasted Abbie.
"That's… a coarse way of putting it," muttered Frederick. "But you did the right thing, Amelia. I'm glad the situation was resolved before things got out of hand."
Daniel nodded, his hands fidgeting as he remained wracked by the experience. "Y-yeah, thankfully."
"Thankfully the only thing that went out of hand was the toy they tried to steal," Katrin jested. Everyone burst out chuckling as Amelia blushed at the unanimous show of support.
All around them, the tankery club that was present meandered about. The Seamers were together, the Landzaats and Mariah were nearby, and in front of Amelia was Abbie, Frederick, Daniel, and Katrin. With three whole crews of the tankery club accounted for, only two remained.
Sounds of rapid footsteps crept in before they could not be ignored. Everyone suspected who it was before their raised heads confirmed it to be Wyker and his crew. Their stares were not the only ones drawn to the four dashing across the floor with wild spirits, defiant to the time of day and ignorant of the disapproving glares that their running attracted.
Running up to the club, Wyker nearly collided with them as he slowed down. A quick whoop marked his and his gang's return. "What's up, ya punks!"
"Whew, glad we could make it," panted Cindy, her enthusiasm still brimming. Hoisting up a big bag in her hand, she glanced over their treasure-trove of goodies. "Our arcade swashbuckling paid off big-time! Practically emptied the place of all the prizes it had to offer, isn't that right?"
"Aye-aye!" sang Nina and Tina.
Frederick secretly rolled his eyes at what grand adventure they had for themselves. But he let the matter drop in favor of another that became apparent as he scanned the mall. The absence of Annabelle, Timothy, and Rebeka became increasingly noted. "Now where are they?"
"They didn't forget, did they?" worried Amelia.
"Hopefully not. But it wouldn't surprise me if she did." Then he paused. "... Or not."
"You see them?"
"Oh yes. Definitely."
As Amelia followed his gaze, it did not take her long before she spotted what the towering boy had seen. While shoppers and pedestrians filled the corridors with their bulk of shopping bags, it was an unspoken certainty that what they carried away was regulated and manageable.
And then there was the Type 29 crew as they steadily made their way towards them, a mountain of fluffy stuffed prizes in their encumbered arms.
The Lion Paw tankery club all gawked at the sight, too stunned even as Rebeka spotted them waiting in the main lobby. "There they are."
"Hello, my affable compatriots!" trumpeted their leader. "It is I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, returned from an enriching odyssey… Someone else's!"
Lagging behind her, Timothy huffed and puffed as he shared a noticeably bigger portion of the load, the bulk of all of the stuffed animals and plushies more of a challenge than the weight. He, like Annabelle, struggled to contain them all in their arms, mindful of any that may slip from their grasp. And all of this was on top of their own purchases stored in classy bags that was dwarfed by comparison.
"Indeed… it is," he panted. "All this… and everything. Even your… favorite strawberry parfait… Thank goodness."
The pile of goods swayed with each shaky stagger, prompting Frederick and Amelia to jump in and lend them their hands.
"Ah! Most gracious of you, Amelia," thanked Annabelle with all her heart. As the weight was lifted from her arms, a sound of bliss emanated from the Nelson girl.
Even as Frederick took the immense supply of stuffed animals and gift boxes with ease, he eyed them with bafflement. "Why did you get yourself all of this?"
"Hm? Oh it was not for Ms. Nelson."
Timothy's answer stumped the boy. But as he opened his mouth to ask, a silent stare from Rebeka offered him the unlikely answer he sought. Without bothering to pose any more questions, Frederick decided discretion was the best option and went along with it. A girl's tastes were not his to inquire.
Putting that aside, a quick headcount was run. "Well, that's everyone now. Shall we get going?"
Amelia did not immediately answer as she took the moment to look around, seeing the familiar faces present and accounted for. With the club together again, it was back to being whole. In spite of any mishaps in the Seamers' encounter, they remained in good spirits as they showed off some of what they saw or bought during the trip. In fact, everyone seemed more lively by it - refreshed, even. Extracurricular activity was a portal for the students to a world outside the classroom and studies. Tankery was an exceptional example as Amelia witnessed in the faces of all who partook in it way back when Lipponen unveiled their first tank. But even the unusual became routine.
She could see it in their faces then. And she could see it in their faces now that they were reinvigorated. The club excursion proved to be an elixir to the routines, where students can express themselves outside of their uniforms. To be who they were and discover more about each other outside of school, outside of tankery; a brief look outside another topic of study.
Perhaps even a remarkable subject like tankery needed a window outside for people to find diversion, however brief. And in that brief time, they found new experiences, new insights for fellow students and club members to be friends. And in that brief time, they would take those new ties with them in tankery.
They were ready to head back now. Amelia could see it in their faces.
"Yeah. Let's head back."
The next day wasted no time for Lipponen to enthusiastically greet her club's return. "Hello everyone~! How are you all today? Did you all have a fun time together after school?"
The replies came as all smiles by the members. "Yep!"
"Lotsa fashion pants and even haircuts. Lots of space at the Seventh Wish mall."
"Plenty of cool stuff and goodies on sale."
"Finally got Moinkers. And Sir Bearington. And…"
"Man, I want to come back to that arcade and sink some more coins."
"The sights were pleasant. Spent the rest of the night watching a movie with Ms. Nelson who was in a mood for a Spellberg classic…"
The teacher beamed ever brighter at hearing her students' experiences. The energy they possessed, captured in both words and expression, made her happy to know they were renewed and ready for more tankery. A vacation, no matter how temporary, was always good for one's soul.
But as all vacations had to come to an end, Lipponen had something truly special prepared for her pupils.
She clasped her hands for attention. "Now, before we resume our tankery practice, I have quite the extraordinary news to share with you all! Just last night, another school had reached out to us with a keen interest in our club!"
The news piqued all intrigue. "Keen interest…?"
"What does that mean?"
"Well you see, tankery in Europa is a recognized sport, however niche it is," Lipponen began to explain. "And like all sports, you have all sorts of clubs, teams, the whole shebang dedicated to it. Our club here at Lion Paw is but one of many that exist in the continent, often tied to schools as an extracurricular… And it just so happened that another such institution recognized us!"
Frederick raised his brows. "So you mean to tell us…"
"That another school's tankery team has went out of their way to find our club!" proudly answered their teacher. "And it just so happens that they asked for a friendly match for practice, one scheduled just around the corner!"
Reactions were immediate. Looks were exchanged as were hushed murmurs of the unexpected bombshell of a news. Scarcely had they thought that their little slice of school activity would suddenly find itself thrust into the notice of another so soon. But among those apprehensive to the meet-up there were voices of approval who now had an exciting turn of events to look forward to.
"With that said, let's take this as an opportunity to learn another facet of tankery: the planning!" Gesturing to the club garage, Lipponen urged the students to follow after her. "Miss Gunther, if you will be kind to accompany me I will explain how it all works! There is much I will need to divulge about our upcoming contenders."
Amelia snapped out of her thoughts to oblige. "S-sure. It's just, which school was it that reached out to us?" she asked. "Was it from the other national high schools around here?"
"Ah, prepared to be surprised Miss Gunther," Lipponen answered with an air of suspense. "It wasn't from the other schools here in Gallia. Quite the opposite: it was from the far end of the Europan continent! A school all the way from the Federal Republic of Moskau - Schwartzgrad of all places to be precise - went through the effort to find us! And I can't tell you how outstanding that is to be noticed in such a way!"
Amelia could barely comprehend what was flowing out of her educator's mouth like a pipe bursting with water. She understood that the school that found them was from outside Gallia - far outside the small country that once sat in peril between rival superpowers. The world outside of the neutral resource-rich nation had been vast but dangerous in the tempest of change and fires of conflict that characterized the turn of the 20th-century. But as time progressed, the consequences took root, names had changed, and soon the storm had moved on. When the embers cooled, the empires of old had faded away and with it, new identities were raised to live in the new world. The faraway nation of Moskau was one of several born from the tumultuous waves of change before the tide calmed.
But as she brought to mind what she could remember off the top of her head, one last question remained in Amelia's head. "Um, okay. That's good to know. So that school… what's their name?"
"Schwarzeisen Gate Exemplary," came the dramatic answer.
With considerable news came the imminent event that waited like an approaching deadline. And like one came the drive to prepare, to make arrangements for a great rendezvous destined for a young club. Essential information had been shared, preliminary plans had been drawn, practice and learning had been reviewed, and even waivers had been provided to accommodate the extraordinary event to take place outside of the school. Lion Paw's tankery club made ready what they could, but all they could ultimately do was wait.
A day later, the big moment had arrived for the tanks to be loaded. The modest squadron of the club's vehicles were secured and the students counted for attendance; both were in place for a considerable journey ahead, the destination only hours away.
The club that was once only a dream departed to a distant site, bringing with it a band of unlikely newcomers that gave it life. The crews that kindled the spark of tankery within Lion Paw National High School defined the bonds that held everything together, to their teams and towards each other.
And for the first time, the band of students that made it all possible had become known by unlikely peers and now summoned for a momentous occasion. An unexpected contact sought to establish a chance meeting, to an end no one could predict. But in the hearts of the novices on their way to their very first match, they knew there was no going back now.
New ties have already been formed - they will know soon enough how well they would fare against their opponents.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This chapter was already posted way back in September, but since then I've felt it was really half-baked. For a chapter about exploring characters and the world, it came across as barebones to me and what I had in plan for the cast. As such, the original chapter has been re-examined and revised to feature new interactions that would flesh them out a bit better than what was previously shown. Was it worth the wait? I'm not sure, but this time I'm hoping that I can rest easier with how this new take turned out. And this time, progress on the next chapters can proceed with less doubts.