In the unfortunate event of the Reality Lens malfunctioning, Anzeel and Aoste had asked to be assigned lodgings inside the clinic, and it was in the hallways of said clinic that the former of the two was dragging her feet along, hunching forward.

Anzeel was dead tired. Her white coat was half hanging from her shoulders, her hair was disheveled, her glasses were crooked, and if she looked down at her feet, she was pretty sure she was wearing two different slippers, but she was too exhausted to care.

She had spent the entire day operating on the shipgirls who had sustained more severe injuries during the battle, those whom Vestal couldn't heal completely with her ability. The mental effort of using the Reality Lens for such a prolonged amount of time, added to the meeting with the Commander, and the surprise caused by Purifier's sudden intervention, were more than enough to deal the finishing blow to her tired mind.

Letting out a very inelegant yawn, she opened the door to her room. She had been looking forward to a night of well-earned rest, but alas, fate wouldn't allow it.

Right as she was about to plop on the mattress and let herself fall into the arms of Morpheus, a sudden knock on the door made her do a double take. She spun on her heels to glare at the door, grumbling in annoyance, before sucking a deep breath through her teeth.

She strutted to the door, ready to give a piece of her mind to the disturber, only to find herself facing three Kitsunes when she opened it: a brunette with a radiant but dangerous smile on her face, another one with an apologetic expression, and the third with white hair and an unimpressed look in her eyes.

Akagi, Amagi, and Kaga. Needless to say, she knew them very well. She had yet to find a Kansen in this timeline that she didn't know. She had supposed that, knowing how her Kansen Cubes worked, there was a chance that they could allow new shipgirls to come alive without her direct intervention, but as of now, it didn't seem to be the case. They still reacted to certain people with particularly strong resonance, fueling themselves with the hopes and dreams of humanity, but it seemed that her programming was still the driving force behind the shipgirls' appearance.

Immediately, Anzeel found herself drawn to the three shipgirls' pointy years and fluffy tails. She held back the gushing that was coming over her, reminding herself that she was still upset, but it didn't work.

"Dr. Anzeel, right?"

"Yes? What can I do for you, dearies?" She asked them, beaming like a lighthouse.

If her honey-filled tone of voice weirded them out, they didn't show it.

"Sorry for the late hour; could we borrow a minute of your time?" Amagi asked her with a bow.

"We heard you can use this Reality Lens to help us; is that true?" Akagi inquired with the kindest tone she could muster, her eyes brimming with impatience.

Anzeel's eyes lit up in understanding, but she couldn't help the sheepish chuckle that escaped her lips. "Oh, do you need patching up as well? But of course... Though, can we wait until tomorrow if it's not too serious? I'm afraid I'm just not up to it at the moment. I'm completely drained."

She really didn't want to come out as haughty, but she had been told that there were no more serious patients to look at. And while using the Reality Lens wasn't dangerous in and of itself, plunging her mind into the endless stream of data of the Wisdom Cubes for an extended period of time wasn't exactly healthy for her psyche.

Akagi opened her mouth, clearly about to complain, but Amagi cut her off.

"But of course, doctor. We'll leave you to your rest and come back tomorrow," she said, grabbing her sister's arm.

"But… Amagi-neesama…"

"Tomorrow," Amagi declared with a tone that didn't admit any objection. Then her gaze softened. "I've waited years, Akagi; I can wait one more night."

"If you say so..." Akagi said, visibly dejected.

Anzeel raised an eyebrow as the three of them dismissed themselves and left the place. What was that about? Was something wrong with this timeline's Amagi? Maybe something she'd been dealing with for a while, like a defect in her Cube that needed correction, and not just a particularly severe injury.

She shook her head and let out another yawn. Fretting about it was pointless. She'd get her answer tomorrow anyway.

"I really need to sleep," she thought as she went back into her room and closed the door. "Now that I think about it, tomorrow is also Sparviero's turn under the Reality Lens. Here's hoping things go smoothly with those three foxes..."

"You've made a full recovery, Freedom," Vestal declared with a pleased smile. "You are free to go; just try not to overexert yourself."

"Thank you, Vestal," Freedom replied. It was morning; they were inside his hospital room, and the repair ship, after giving him one last checkup, had agreed to discharge him. "How's the situation?" He asked her.

"Manageable," she surmised with a sigh and a shrug. "But the Commander can tell you more about it; he also wanted to be notified when you'd wake up, so you should let him know."

Freedom sat up on the bed and looked at his hands, flexing his fingers as if to test their mobility.

"Very well, I'll stop by his office later," he said.

When they brought him here from the Sanctuary, he was in such critical condition that they didn't know if he'd made it. He remembered blacking out and regaining consciousness multiple times during that time, and outside of the pain, he recalled bringing his hand up like he was doing now, only to see his skin reduced to a charred mess of blisters and scabs.

He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts from his mind. He didn't dare imagine how the rest of him had looked at that moment, but he thanked Vestal for her timely intervention, which helped to keep him alive long enough to reach the Reality Lens.

He shivered at the thought of what would have happened if they didn't have the contraption at their disposal; he wouldn't have resisted more than a few hours in that sorry state, and it wouldn't have been a pretty way to go.

As Vestal left, he turned toward the other person in the room. Massachusetts had been standing to the side in silence all the while, waiting for the repair ship to finish examining him.

"Mamie- oof!"

The shipgirl in question all but threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce bear hug as she tightly clutched his head to her chest.

Not exactly taken aback by the gesture, he reciprocated with a hug of his own, burying his face into her cleavage and inhaling deeply. Her alluring scent was a nice change from the sterile smell of the hospital.

They basked in each other's comforting warmth for a while, but soon, that alone wasn't enough for her, and she broke the hug, leaning down to kiss him.

When he woke up that morning, he found himself on the bed inside the room. The pain was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fatigue. The one watching over him was Massachusetts, leaning over the bed right next to him, half-asleep. It was she who called for Vestal after noticing he was awake. He still remembered the heartbreaking relief in her gaze when their eyes met.

"Have you always been here?" He inquired when they separated.

She nodded, still a bit dejected, and he stood up. This time, it was his turn to wrap her in a hug. She rested her head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat assuaging her apprehension.

Indeed, she'd never left his side, not even as Anzeel used the Reality Lens to treat him, constantly fearing for him despite the worst having passed.

"I'm sorry for making you worry," he whispered into her ear as he cradled her, but she shook her head gently.

"My hero…" she whispered, looking up at him to kiss him again. He had saved everyone's lives, risking his own in an endeavor whose outcome was all but certain, and he had come out of it alive, if by a hair.

She wanted to be angry at him for being so reckless, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn't. Instead, she was content to let her hands wander below his tank top, feeling his smooth skin under her digits. She carried him to the hospital personally while he was still on the verge of death, and now she was trying her best to kick out of her mind the memory of the dreadful feeling of his burnt, rough skin still lingering on her fingertips.

They kept locking lips for a while as they embraced each other, her hands still exploring his torso. Freedom was more than happy to let her, his hands getting busy as well as he went to grab her rear. Of course, it wasn't long before he felt his blood flowing below. Reluctantly, he forced himself to grab her shoulders and stop her, drawing a sigh of complaint from her as he brought their kissing to a halt.

"We should really stop now," he said with a sheepish smile, trying to convince himself more than her. "Ryan wanted to see me."

She looked at him in confusion, then down between their legs, and her eyes widened in realization at the sight of the bulge in his pants.

She took a second to ponder things. True, the Commander probably had something urgent to discuss with him, but there's no way she could leave him hanging like this, not after he worked so hard for everyone.

Then a glint passed through her eyes. What did she do the last time? Right, the reward.

She shoved him back to sit on the bed, taking him by surprise, but before he could even inquire about her intentions, she got down on her knees.

He could only watch, baffled, as she moved her hair to the side, looking up at him with those enticing red eyes.

"Five more minutes," she declared as she tugged on his pants.

"You look like shit, Ryan."

The Commander deadpanned at Freedom's remark. He took a sip of his coffee, taking a second to savor the beverage, its bitter taste giving him enough of a kick to hold a proper conversation.

"And you took a bomb to the face; how in the hell are you looking so lively?" He quipped.

"Let's just say that my morning was off to a good start," the shipboy shrugged, a dumb smile appearing on his face.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at that. He had a fair guess at what he might be implying.

"Does that have to do with a certain white-haired battleship by any chance?" He asked the shipboy, smirking as he watched his smile twist in disbelief.

"Seriously, how do you do that?" Freedom inquired.

"This is my base, Freedom. Nothing gets past me," Ryan replied, haughtily puffing his chest. Now was Freedom's turn to deadpan.

In truth, South Dakota had told the Commander that Massachusetts had spent the night at the infirmary, watching over the recovering shipboy, so Ryan just needed to add two and two together, but Freedom didn't need to know that.

"In all seriousness, sorry I couldn't pass by, but as you can see..." Ryan trailed off, gesturing toward his desk, filled to the brim with papers.

He had spent the night working his ass off in his office, drafting the last batch of documents necessary for his plan to allow the base to reach economic and administrative self-sufficiency, and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep.

"No worries, man; I got plenty of attention from everyone," Freedom joked.

Indeed, the walk through the base to the administrative building had been particularly animated for the male Kansen. Groups of shipgirls would stop him every other turn, wanting to thank him, shake his hand, or simply exchange a few words with him. He was happy to oblige them, of course; after all, he did save a lot of them from going boom back at the Sanctuary.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Freedom asked after taking a sip of his own coffee, switching the conversation to a more serious matter.

"Right, you already got the gist of the situation from the others, but there's something else you need to know," Ryan started. "While you were recovering, Enterprise went ahead and looked into Observer's Cube…" he said, then explained to Freedom the details of the deal they'd stricken with the Elite and the troubles they were facing to keep it.

Freedom hummed in thought as the Commander finished explaining. "If you are telling me this, I wager it's because you found a solution."

"We did, and believe it or not, it was thanks to Purifier," Ryan said. "Remember that machine we saw in Aoste's lab? The one that was holding TB's body inside?"

"What of it?"

"It would appear that Zero and the other Antiochus used to use something similar to create the new bodies in which to transplant their Cubes with their most recent memories; it's how they were able to 'come back to life' even after we destroyed them," Ryan explained. "If we manage to get a hold of one of those machines, we can give Observer the new body she wants and keep our end of the bargain. And not only that..." he added, trailing off with a telling smile.

"…we can finally relieve the METAs from their condition," Freedom finished, his eyes widening in realization.

"That's right, it's the technology Aoste and Anzeel need to work around the corruption of the Metamorphosis," Ryan confirmed.

"That's awesome, but where are we going to find such tech?" Freedom inquired. "Surely they don't have it lying around one of their hideouts?"

Ryan's grin widened.

"They do?" Freedom asked him, incredulous.

"Their main assembly line is located inside their main base, of course, along with most of the equipment required, but as things stand now, a full-on siege to the final boss' castle is impossible," the Commander said. "Luckily for us, Purifier said that they have a few auxiliary facilities scattered around the globe inside their secondary bases. She said they had them in case their main line malfunctioned. We're going to aim at one of those."

Despite Ryan's explanation, Freedom didn't look convinced. The shipboy didn't have a problem with the plan, but with the informant.

"How reliable is that intel?" Freedom asked him.

"You don't have to worry; TB's vouching for Purifier," Ryan said, as if reading his mind. "She's run a thorough search of her data and found out she's telling the truth, so I don't think we'll find any surprises. Granted, it's the Original Sirens we are talking about; you never know."

Freedom took a couple more seconds to ponder his words before sighing.

"Okay, I'll trust your judgment, Ryan," he said. "So, how are we going to do this? And what's my role in it? You called me here for a reason, right?"

"Well, yeah, but with everything that's happening, it's going to take a while to properly organize the sortie," Ryan said. "For now, I'm just going to need you to do some reconnoitering."

"Great!"

"With Purifier."

Freedom's excitement deflated at that. He looked at the officer with a mix of disgust and disbelief.

"Seriously? Do I really have to go with her?"

"What, you thought I'd send you alone?"

"Ryan, that bitch left us to die at the Sanctuary."

"I know," Ryan grimaced. "But it's dangerous to go alone, and she's the only one who can fly as freely as you do."

"Devil can do it too," Freedom retorted. "And she's a lot more pleasant to be around."

"But Purifier's more familiar with the place," Ryan countered. "It would be stupid to leave her behind."

Freedom let out an audible grumble of annoyance.

"Fine…" he conceded, still not exactly pleased with the development. "But seriously, tell your counterpart to do something about her, or I might just kill her for real next time."

"I'm way ahead of you," Ryan told him. "Aoste wanted to make sure she didn't end up like Observer if the Sirens ever put their hands on her. He said he'd put her under the Reality Lens to take some precautions."

Freedom raised an eyebrow at that.

"Is she really letting him tinker with her Cube? Just like that?"

"Believe me, you couldn't imagine." Ryan rolled his eyes. "When I told her he was the Creator, she looked as giddy as a little kid."

Freedom snorted. If Aoste was actually able to put a proper leash on Purifier—and Observer when they'd bring her back—then all the better. He remembered his first conversation with Purifier, when the Elite revealed to him the existence of the Creator. Thinking back on it, no one could have expected they'd come this far, but now they had that very same Creator at their beck and call. With each passing day, Ryan's decision to bring Aoste back with them from the Original Timeline proved to be the right call.

"Okay then, let's get back to work," Freedom said, standing up from the couch with newfound resolve. "What are the coordinates of the base?"

"Hey, hold down your horses; I didn't mean right now," Ryan told him. "I told you we're still in the middle of preparation, and you've just recovered; you should take it easy."

"Yeah, I'm aware," he said sheepishly. "But you know how it is; there ain't no rest for the wicked."

"It's Sparviero's turn!"

"No, it's Amagi's turn!"

Kurama and Akagi glared at each other, arms crossed and chins up, faces inches apart.

"My brother has been dealing with this his entire life," said the shipboy.

"So is my sister; your brother can wait one more day," retorted the brunette.

They were inside the main hall of the hospital, waiting for Anzeel's permission to get in as the doctor got herself and the Reality Lens ready. Freedom, after getting out of the Commander's office, was supposed to meet up with Kurama and Sparviero to head to the clinic for the blind carrier's long-awaited turn under the lens, but for some sick twist of fate, they arrived at the same time as the three Kitsunes, who were there for the exact same reason.

Knowing some of the individuals in the two groups, it didn't come as a surprise how things developed from there.

"Sparviero's already given up his turn twice," insisted Kurama, on the verge of losing his patience.

Akagi snorted at that. "It's not my fault if he's such a fool."

A dangerous glint passed through Kurama's eyes, and his tails bristled as he tried to keep his cool. The only thing preventing him from putting his hands around her neck was Kaga's presence.

"Watch your tongue, vixen," Kurama warned her. "If it weren't for that 'fool,' none of us would be here."

The frown on Akagi's face deepened as she gritted her teeth. They weren't alone in the room, so she was also doing her best to not jump him right then and there.

The two kept staring defiantly at each other, neither of them intending to back down.

A few feet away from them, standing idly to the side, Kaga sighed, and Freedom facepalmed.

"Should we step in before they tear each other to pieces?" The shipboy asked her.

"Good idea," Kaga said, breathing a sigh of annoyance. "You two, that's enough; you're just making fools out of yourselves," she said as she approached the arguing pair.

"Kaga, don't tell me you are on their side," Akagi said, shifting her glare from Kurama to her sister.

"No, I just think we should let those two decide for themselves," Kaga responded with an even tone, nodding toward the two Kansen concerned.

Off to the side, Sparviero and Amagi were having a similarly heated conversation, though for different reasons.

"Sparviero-san, you can go first," said the sickly battlecruiser.

"Nay, you should go first, Miss Amagi," replied the blind carrier.

"Please, I have yet to express my gratitude for your help at the Sanctuary."

"But I could never ask you something like that…"

"And I could never take this away from you…"

The other four Kansen deadpanned as the two of them kept "arguing." Realizing that this wasn't going anywhere, Akagi let out an audible grumble after making up her mind.

"That's it; I'm taking my sister through that door, and whoever tries to stop me will suffer the consequences!" She declared.

"I'll crush you where you stand if you dare take another step!" Kurama yelled.

"I'd like to see you try, damn mutt!"

"You two, cut it out!" Freedom intervened.

"That's enough!" A sudden screech was heard as Vestal burst through the door, the fed-up expression on her face saying it all. "Don't you know you aren't the only ones in this building?! I have patients that need to rest! Now quiet down, or I'll send you back to your dorms right this instant!"

The dread-filled silence that answered her made her raise an eyebrow at those presents, making them nod their heads vehemently. Even the feistiest among them were forced to relent under the repair ship's rebuke.

"Good." After making sure they had gotten the idea, Vestal addressed Amagi and Sparviero with a smile and a softer tone. "You two can come inside; Dr. Anzeel's waiting for you."

Nodding her head at her, Amagi asked for Sparviero's permission to take his arm under hers. After receiving it, she waved her hand to the others and guided him inside, following behind the repair ship with measured steps, mixed with excitement but also a bit of nervousness.

"Do you think he's breathing?" Emperor asked aloud.

"I don't think I've ever seen him standing so completely still in my entire life," Leviathan answered him.

In front of them, sitting on the couch inside the Lenin's bridge, was the owner of the icebreaker himself, snuggling with a certain Vichya destroyer.

Rather, it would be correct to say the opposite; Le Malin was the one snuggling up to him. She was snoring softly, clutching his arm tightly around hers and leaning with her head on his shoulder, drooling all over him, while he was sitting up on the couch, looking straight in front of him, standing as still as a statue.

Emperor held back a laugh and waved his hand to catch Lenin's attention, then proceeded to put his arm around Leviathan's shoulders, motioning the shorter shipboy to do the same before winking at him and giving him a thumbs up and a knowing look.

On the couch, Lenin was silently seething in anger.

"Get. Out." He mouthed, trying not to wake the sleeping beauty next to him.

Deciding they'd bothered their little brother enough, Leviathan made to move outside the door, but not before telling him the reason they'd come to find him.

"We'll be arriving shortly," he said, not too loud so as to not disturb the shipgirl. "Wake her up and meet us out on deck in five."

The two male Kansen then took their leave as Lenin glared at them. Once they were gone, the icebreaker let out a sigh, thinking back on how he ended up in such a situation.

He had spent most of the journey with Le Malin, but not because of his choice; it was the shipgirl who had been seeking out his company more and more in the past few days. Not that he minded, of course; he just wasn't sure how to act around girls in general, and he was constantly stressing about making things awkward. He had decided to take refuge inside his bridge for a change, with the intention of taking a nap away from everyone and clearing his head, but when he woke up, he found her sleeping right next to him.

By now, he had gotten used to her shenanigans; they had become something to be expected, if he had to be honest. What was actually troubling him was that since their return from the expedition she had been acting uncharacteristically clingy, and he couldn't possibly fathom why. It certainly had nothing to do with how he helped her during the fight against those Ashes. It was just that she missed her friends and comrades of the Orthodoxy; there was nothing deeper than that… right?

He let out a sigh as he decided to put those thoughts to the side. His muscles were aching from standing still for so long, and he couldn't take it anymore, so he finally decided to wake her up.

He hesitantly reached out his hand to her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her a second to brush the sleep off her face, but when she did, she turned to him, blinking.

"Uh? Lenin, what was I doing?" She asked him.

"Um, nothing, actually; you just fell asleep in here," he replied truthfully. He almost regretted waking her up, the warmth enveloping his side fading as she detached herself from him.

"Oh, sorry," she said, looking at him with eyes still half-glazed. "Ugh, being elegant is so tiring; I hope you didn't mind…"

"N-no, of course not," he stuttered, averting her gaze from hers.

"Ah, good, yawn... then five more minutes." With that said, she plopped down onto the couch once again, her head landing on his lap.

"Wha-? No, wait, Le Malin, we need to get out; we're almost there!"

"Zzz…"

…

Sparviero woke up to see... darkness.

"So, it didn't work, uh?"

Letting out the deepest sigh of resignation he'd ever exhaled, he tried to sit himself up on the bed he found himself on. The last thing he remembered was Amagi's voice next to him before they made him wear some kind of helmet and made him lay down on what he presumed was the bed in the room of the Reality Lens.

As he tried to get his bearings, he felt shuffling around him, and two familiar voices reached his ears.

"He's awake."

"Easy there, brother."

It was Kurama and Freedom. The two of them had been waiting for him to wake up, and upon noticing his body stirring, they scooted closer to him.

"Hey, guys, so-"

"Hold on, let me get this," Kurama interrupted him.

Someone grabbed his head and started fumbling with it. Before he could ask what was happening, he felt the unraveling of fabric around his head as his blindfold was removed—no, wait, it wasn't that. Only now did he realize that the familiar feeling of texture resting on his face didn't belong to his trusty blindfold; it was too light, and it had too many layers to it.

"Guys, what the-"

And then the final layer was unfolded and removed from around his head.

He blinked, immediately shutting his eyes as his vision was invaded by too many stimuli all at once.

"Oh, sorry, the light's too bright; we should close the curtains," Freedom said.

Sparviero felt more shuffling around him as he blinked again, trying to get his eyes accustomed to the unfamiliar feeling bombarding his retinas. Slowly, the environment around him came into focus. It wasn't the dark he was so used to; it was a dimly lit room, the few rays of light filtering through the drawn curtains illuminating it just enough for his eyes to get accustomed without hurting.

And when they did, his jaw went slack.

Colors. He was surrounded by vibrant shades of various pigments that he somehow both knew and didn't at the same time. The predominant one was the white of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and even the bed sheets, typical of any hospital. But the explosion of colors that drew his attention was coming from the two figures leaning close to him, one on each of his sides, looking at him expectantly.

Eyes wide in bewilderment, Sparviero shifted his gaze between Freedom and Kurama. The former's orange, lustrous fur was so eye-catching he was left speechless, as was the latter's bronze skin.

They were just like he'd pictured them. Only now that he was able to actually see them could he pick up certain details he could have never noticed before by just scanning their faces.

Did Kurama ever tell him about those tufts of black fur at the tips of his tails and ears? And Freedom's tats… so that's what they looked like.

"Hey, guys… Uh, so it worked, uh?"

His voice cracked as he spoke, and suddenly, his vision became blurred.

Kurama and Freedom simply reached out to him with their arms, wrapping him in a three-way hug as the no-longer-blind carrier began sobbing, tears silently streaking down his face.

Sparviero was overflowing with joy and elation, but also relief. When he woke up seeing dark, he was on the verge of breaking down, albeit for a completely different reason. Another disappointment would have been too much to bear, but now he just felt dumb for not realizing sooner, and he didn't know what to say. So, he just cried, taking advantage of his brothers' shoulders to vent his relief.

"I can't believe this; it almost doesn't feel true," he piped up after a few minutes, sniffling.

"Yeah, the others will be so glad," Freedom said, his voice also laced with emotion. "Kurama, are you crying?"

"Shut up," Kurama shot back, quickly breaking the hug to cross his arms and avert his gaze.

"You big softie," Freedom teased, making him grumble and eliciting an amused chuckle from Sparviero.

"I can't wait to see Carabiniere, Aquila, and everyone else," the carrier said with a smile. The two shipgirls were among the few who had received zero damage during the battle; as such, they were sent out with the others to secure their patrol routes and couldn't be there for the occasion.

Freedom grinned at that. "Hey, should we tell him?" He asked the male Kitsune.

"It's not like it's a secret," Kurama deadpanned before addressing Sparviero. "Your girlfriend and your sister are back; they are waiting outside."

His heart did a flip in his chest. "They're here?!"

"Yup, we should call them."

"W-wait, I need to prepare myself!"

"Guys, he's awake; you can come in," Freedom spoke into his internal radio, ignoring him.

Barely a handful of seconds later, the door slammed open, and a head could be seen peeking inside the room.

An angelic vision appeared: blonde curls framing a delicate face and big round eyes, filled with both hesitation and longing, and Sparviero's jaw went slack.

Carabiniere scanned the room until her gaze settled on his form. She rushed beside him, concern clearly written on her face, completely ignoring the other two shipboys. Freedom gestured to Kurama toward the door, and the male Kitsune nodded in understanding. The two made themselves scarce without uttering a word, leaving the two of them alone.

"Sorry I couldn't be here sooner! How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you feel anything wrong? Are you thirsty? Do you want me to get you some water?" She let off a barrage of questions, but he could barely hear her. He was too preoccupied with taking in her beauty.

"Cara, you're... wow, you're beautiful," he breathed out, unable to come up with a better way to greet her. He had already "seen" her in the past, very intimately at that, but now, with the rays of light coming from the window framing her form and her golden hair, she seemed to shine with an ethereal light that was making it almost too hard to look at her.

Carabiniere paused her rambling, and a hard blush came to her face. Being reminded that he could actually see her now was suddenly making her self-conscious about her appearance. She had literally just returned from sortie, and she barely had enough time to freshen up.

"Y-you just woke up and the first thing you do is tease me," she pouted, averting her gaze from him in embarrassment.

Chuckling, he stood up next to her. He placed his hand on her cheek, gently lifting her gaze so that he could peer into her beautiful, lilac eyes from up close.

"I'm serious; you're even more beautiful than I could imagine," he said with a soft smile, only aggravating her blush.

"S-stop that..."

"Aw, they are already flirting; how cute~"

"Wonderful; let the joy of love mark this merry day, amici miei!"

Two new voices were heard, making the two of them turn toward the door to see Aquila entering the room, accompanied by none other than Littorio herself, the two women having finally caught up with the impatient destroyer.

Sparviero found himself at a loss for words at the sight of them.

"L-Littorio, what are you doing here?" He stuttered.

"Why, I'm here to make sure your new eyes are treated with the best of sights," Littorio said, brushing her hair with a flourish and placing a hand on her chest. "Starting with myself, of course; though, I can see you are already completely entranced with my lovely subordinate, as it should be," she added, winking at him.

Sparviero let out a sheepish laugh, and Carabiniere rolled her eyes, still trying to play down her evident embarrassment. Aquila chuckled at their predicament and stepped up to the shipboy, producing a bunch of flowers from behind her back.

"We wanted to surprise you," she said, offering it to him. "Here, these are from the entire Sardinian delegation."

It was a bouquet of roses, their petals sporting the colors of the Italian flag. Some of them were red, some of them white like his sister's hair, and others as green as Littorio's, he noticed. His heart swelled; before, he couldn't even make such a simple connection, but now he just needed a glance.

"T-thank you; they are beautiful," he said, taking the admittedly large bouquet in his hands.

Littorio didn't miss his stutter and his bashful demeanor, and a sly smile made its way to her face.

"Well, dear Sparviero?" She asked him, approaching him from the side. She leaned into him suggestively, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and making sure he could feel her "armor plating" next to him. "We heard you complimenting your girlfriend, but do you really have nothing to say to the pair of beautiful signorine who've come to pay you a visit?"

The poor shipboy squirmed in unease. He sought Aquila's help with his eyes, but his sister, upon noticing the expression on his face, seemed to decide to join Littorio.

"Indeed, brother; you even praised the flowers, but not a word for us," she said, trying her best to stifle her laugh behind her fake pout, all under the annoyed gaze of their destroyer friend.

"Will you stop that?" Carabiniere intervened, clutching his arm to her body protectively. "You are making him uncomfortable."

"Oh, come on, my lovely subordinate," said Littorio, waving her off. "As if you don't find this side of him alluring as well."

"T-that's not true at all!"

As the three of them began bickering without any real sign of actual animosity between them, Sparviero took advantage of their distraction to calm his nerves.

He had been so genuinely taken aback by their appearance that he was having trouble just looking at them. The images he had pictured of them in his mind didn't live up to reality; the women all looked like paintings that had suddenly come to life to show off their charm and elegance. That's why he was feeling so awkward around them, never mind how close Littorio and Carabiniere were standing to him. Even just setting his eyes on their fair skin and curves was enough to activate his neurons.

"Uh, yeah… You also look really good, Littorio, Aquila, hehe…" He managed to stutter, fighting back the warmth he was feeling on his face.

They paused their friendly bickering to stare at him with quizzical looks.

"Brother, we were joking," Aquila chuckled after a second, making him scratch his head sheepishly. "But thank you; you are so sweet," she added. Now it was her turn to approach him, and Littorio and Carabiniere moved aside to let her wrap him in a warm hug, to which he responded in kind.

The affectionate gesture was enough to make relief wash over him, his jumbled mess of a mind finally calming down.

"Sorry about that; we are just so happy for you," his sister said softly. Breaking the hug, she looked at him with a smile, only to frown in confusion as she noticed something.

"Brother, your eyes..." she wondered out loud.

"My eyes? What's wrong with them?" He asked in concern, bringing his hand up to his face on instinct.

The other two shipgirls leaned in to look at him, curious.

"Wow, you are right, they are stunning," Carabiniere marveled, having just noticed.

"Indeed, truly a work of art," Littorio declared.

He kept looking at them in confusion until Littorio took out her personal compact mirror from her uniform and held it out for him. He took it in his hands and held it in front of him, looking at his own reflection.

He didn't know what to think. For the first time, he could take a look at his own face; his grayish-white, medium-length hair, which resembled a lot his sister's in color, he noticed, was tousled and unkempt on his head, but his attention was immediately drawn to his eyes.

They were no longer empty, vitreous, gray orbs.

They were full of life, glistening like gems, shining with a beautiful azure, paler than the sky.

AN: End of Act 5!

Honestly, this felt like a good point to end the fifth arc. We've had the trip to the Original Timeline, the attack on the Sanctuary, and plenty of slice of life in between, along with a shakeup of the previous status quo.

Next chapter will mark the beginning of Act 6. We'll just catch up with our other group of main characters on the other side of the globe, and then we'll get on with the plot.

I know someone wanted to see Amagi after the operation, but her scene would have extended the chapter longer than needed, and it would have been redundant, especially after the one with Sparviero. Don't worry, we'll see her up and about later, I promise.

Next Chapter: Healing Hugs