Purifier was in trouble.

She was missing an eye; her empty left socket was bleeding profusely, just like the rest of the wounds on her body—cuts and holes she had received from the Humanoid-type's pointy needle arms. Her rigging was in a similarly bad state; it was cracked and broken in multiple places, as she had used it to shield herself from her opponent's attacks multiple times. At least it could still hold her up.

The two of them were currently hovering in the middle of the large space of the inner docks, seizing each other up, as if taking a mutually agreed-upon breather from their clash. Both were almost completely out of energy.

Purifier knew how tough the Original Sirens were, but she wasn't expecting to be so outclassed. True, she'd already fought a few of them during their first appearance at the seed, but that was before being sent away by Zero and losing her chance to measure herself against their Elite units.

Maybe it was the excitement at the newfound opportunity, or maybe it was her vindictiveness that made her too impulsive, but she found herself on her back foot almost as soon as their fight started. The Humanoid-type wasn't faster than her, and their firepower was almost matched, but even that fell short when her opponent realized that she had no way of defending herself from close combat.

She almost considered calling Freedom for help, but she dismissed the idea right away. She'd rather lose her last vessel than humiliate herself by asking him of all people for help. Besides, the male Kansen didn't exactly hold her in high regard, and for good reason, one might add. He had already stated that he didn't care if she lost her body, and why would he?

She glanced to the side. There he was, standing atop a pile of destroyed droid workers and Executor-class on the other side of the inner docks, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered.

He noticed her looking at him and raised an unimpressed eyebrow, then his mouth moved to say something she couldn't hear. If she guessed correctly, it was something along the line of "don't get distracted," but with a busted eye, she couldn't quite make it out.

Her remaining eye widened in understanding, and she moved aside right on time to dodge an attack from the Humanoid-type, the laser beam missing her by a hair and impacting the wall far behind her.

She turned to glare at it, chastising herself for the mistake that almost cost her the fight and her life. Despite the state she was in, she could keep going for a while longer, a nice perk of being an Antiochus and not a Kansen, but in this case, the damage was slowing her down quite a bit. Her left eye in particular; losing it was a hard blow, as it ruined her depth perception.

But luckily for her, the Original Siren also didn't seem at the top of its game. Maybe because it was constantly keeping an eye on the shipboy observing the fight or because it knew that it was at a disadvantage considering the overall situation, but she had managed to score a couple good hits on it, as its armor's slightly roughed appearance demonstrated.

"You look like you're in a rush, aren't you?" She commented with a smirk.

The Humanoid-type was so preoccupied with watching Freedom that it didn't even consider her. Or at least, she assumed that's what it was doing. It's not like the thing had eyes; she was guessing its intentions by watching its body language.

"What, you think I'm so weak I'm not even worthy of your attention?" She growled in anger. "You are so infuriating!"

Setting aside all caution, she rushed it, but its tentacles were ready to meet her. The four shorter ones sprouting from its coccyx stabbed her, and the other two longer ones protruding from its shoulder blades swiveled their barrels right into her face, charging up their shots.

Ignoring the pain, she pushed through the tendrils keeping her still, their sharp points pushing further inside her body as she grabbed the two laser barrels with her hands. She aimed them away from her, right on time, as they fired their beams into the air.

Her smirk widened. "Got you~"

Now it was the Humanoid-type's turn to struggle. Since it was unable to free its tendrils from the Antiochus' grasp, it opted to change tactics. It raised both its arms and began stabbing her multiple times in a row with its pointy blades, reducing her torso to a bleeding pincushion.

Purifier, once again, remained unfazed. Instead of letting go, she kept him in place, sending a mental command to her half-destroyed rigging. The hammerhead shark moved up from behind her, pointing its mouth right at the Original Siren.

It realized what was about to happen and doubled up on its struggles.

Purifier had been charging her own laser beam the entire time, taking advantage of the monster's distraction, and was ready to unleash it. The Humanoid-type knew that its body wouldn't withstand the attack, so it waited until the very last second. Right as she took her shot, it detached all its six appendages from its back before dodging the hit by a hair and moving away to a safe distance.

The thick laser traveled in the air harmlessly, its blinding light illuminating the surroundings for a few instants. It impacted the ceiling of the inner docks, digging a tunnel through the metal until it reached the water, which began flowing inside like a small waterfall from above.

Purifier panted in exertion, her smirk leaving her face. That was the last ounce of energy she had at her disposal, and her rigging couldn't sustain her any longer. She fell unceremoniously into the water, whose level was beginning to rise around her.

The Humanoid-type came to hover right beside her. It couldn't shoot her since it had lost all its tendrils, so it raised his arm again, readying a thrust that would take her out for good.

She let out a defeated grumble as she prepared herself to lose her last vessel.

But before the Humanoid-type could stab her, Freedom finally intervened, coming to hover right above them, his wings spread out in an intimidating manner, his afterburners keeping him steady in the air.

"That's enough," he declared.

As he spoke, the gate to the inner docks began rising above them, and the light of the sun began filtering through the opening, as well as more seawater. At the same time, the Humanoid-type paused, unsure of how to react to the sudden development.

"You already know what's happening; you lost," Freedom stated, looking down at it with disdain. "Don't make this more complicated than it needs to be."

The Humanoid-type didn't react, seemingly weighing its options. It had lost control of the base, its weapons were gone, and it was outnumbered. Its only option was to retreat.

It focused all its remaining energy into the small thrusters on its back and behind his knees and elbows, and with a burst of speed, it dashed away from there, up toward the widening opening of the gate.

But Freedom had already made its move. The Humanoid-type was more agile than him, but he was faster. A glance was enough for him to predict its course and intercept it with a burst of speed. Then, all he needed was a swing of his wing blades, and its armored body, already damaged by the clash with Purifier, gave in.

Purifier watched as the Original Siren met its end. Bits and pieces of its body fell into the water around her as she sighed.

"All that talk, and look at the state you are in," Freedom stated as he flew back down toward her, a smirk appearing on his face.

Purifier rolled her eyes. "Ugh, spare me your gloating and let me die in peace; I don't want the last thing I hear to be your condescending tone."

"What are you talking about? The plan worked; this place is under our control," Freedom said, genuinely confused. Even if she did end up losing this vessel, they could still make another one; that was the whole point of capturing the base.

"Do you really think I'm that dumb? You are going to bring Observer back because you made a deal with her, but let's be honest, why waste your time with me?" Purifier scoffed at him. "You think I don't know what everyone thinks of me? I'm nothing but a nuisance; they've kept me around only because I'm good at fighting. When I finally lose this vessel, they'll be more than happy to put my Cube away behind a lock and forget about me!"

She coughed up a spurt of purple blood as she went on with her rant, the frustration and disappointment at the defeat hurting more than the physical pain.

"Everyone will be glad once I'm gone, especially you," she spat out. "You didn't like that the Commander put you up to keep an eye on me, right? Well, you won't have to deal with that anymore. Aren't you happy? If you don't have anything nice to say, you could at least leave me alone and let me go to sleep in peace."

Silence fell over them as Freedom looked at her with an unreadable expression. Then a grin appeared on his face. His shoulders were shaken by a chuckle, which soon turned into a full-on mocking laugh, which only aggravated Purifier's mood. Once he was done laughing at her expense, he looked down at her again with a serious look.

"If you really think that's what's going to happen, then you are dumber than I thought," he said. "Ryan wants to bring back all your Antiochus comrades. Yes, including the Arbiters. He kept their Cubes for this exact reason."

By now the gate had opened completely, and if it weren't for the sloshing of the water flowing inside, filling the inner dock's empty spaces, and the whirring coming from the shipboy's wings, the pregnant silence that fell over them would be unbearable.

Freedom looked down at Purifier's face. Her baffled expression told him everything.

"What, you really thought your Cubes were going to be put on a shelf and left to collect dust?"

"Are you… serious?" She asked him in disbelief.

He landed on the surface of the water and dismissed his wings, then he bent down to pick up her battered body.

"Did you really think that Ryan—or anyone—would let you off the hook that easily after everything you've done? Oh no, you and your comrades are going to atone for your sins, one way or another, and you certainly can't do it without a body."

Purifier's shocked expression turned into a dumb smile, and a weird feeling began spreading through her core, something she had rarely felt, if ever. Relief? Joy? Anticipation? She didn't know, but it caused her to start giggling uncontrollably as she lay motionless in the shipboy's arms.

"Anyway, you did well to stall it for time; do you think you can resist before I get you- What's gotten into you now?" He asked her in confusion.

"…hehehehe, nothing..."

"Okay... Anyway, how long does it usually take to make a new body for-"

"...hehehe..."

"Oi, drop it, or I'll drop you."

"…hehehe, I knew it; everyone would miss me too much to set me aside."

Freedom's jaw went slack. "Dear God, what have I done?"

"Hey, don't touch me in weird places, or I'll tell your girlfriend."

"I'll rip out your throat if you don't shut up."

"…hehehe…"


A few hours later, the situation had completely calmed down.

The gate of the base was fully open, and the flow of seawater from the outside allowed the water level of the inner docks to steadily rise until it filled the previously empty spaces. The system was apparently designed to let the ships into the underwater harbor without flooding the inner base, allowing them to dock at the designated spots, or at least at those that had been spared during the battle.

After disembarking, Ryan was led to the command room through the asphyxiating hallways of the base and was now kneeling over the motionless body of the Flayer-type.

This was the first time he saw an Original Siren, and he was observing it with rapt interest but also dread and apprehension. Zuikaku and Spee had already told him about their encounter with the creature and how it tried to brainwash them.

Of all the Sirens, the Flayer-type was the most troublesome. He already knew that. The shipboys made sure to stress that part in particular when they briefed him and the shipgirls about the most dangerous adversaries they could come across. They said that those things had caused a lot of trouble back in their world, at least before the male Kansen learned to counter their brainwashing, which was very similar to the Black Wisdom Cube used by their humanoid counterparts to instill chaos amidst the ranks of humanity in the past.

Both acted on the Cube of the recipient in the same way, pushing back their consciousness and reducing them to nothing but mindless puppets in the hands of the perpetrator. The only way to defend against it was by screening one's mind and pushing back the attempt with sheer willpower, which could mainly be done by Kansen with good control over their Cubes.

A shiver ran down his spine. Things could have gone a lot worse. Someone else other than Zuikaku and Spee could have come across the Flayer-type. And if the two of them hadn't received training from the shipboys, they both would have probably been taken by the enemy.

He could only imagine the grief Shoukaku would go through if something like that were to happen to her sister. Hell, he wasn't sure he could take it himself.

He decided. From now on, any shipgirl with a hole in their schedule would dedicate it to mental training, supervised by the shipboys, of course. It meant less free time for everyone, and there was the chance that it would be entirely pointless since the Flayer-types were rare even among the Original Sirens, but everybody would agree that it was better than suffering brainwashing from a monster jellyfish.

"TB, report. What's the situation?" He asked the AI after he was done inspecting the body of the Siren.

TB was already connected to the main console, and her face was still being displayed on the monitors in the room.

"I have complete control of this facility, Commander. The defense system is back online, and I've already reprogrammed the droid workers and put them to work. They'll repair the damage inflicted on the base, but it's going to take a while; I advise bringing some of the bulins for maximum efficiency."

"Noted. What about the facility? Is everything in working order?"

"Yes, the preservation capsules are in top condition, as is the cybernetic fabrication plant," TB reported. "We can start it up posthaste."

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief and made an internal fist bump. With that, they could give the METAs new, uncorrupted bodies and produce new vessels for the Antiochus. They would be an invaluable asset for the fleet, bolstering their ranks, and he wouldn't need to concern himself with them turning on Azur Lane thanks to Aoste reprogramming them.

Once he kept his end of the bargain with Observer, Azur Lane would have more information on the Original Sirens and their next move, and with the METAs out of danger, general morale would rise.

"How long is it going to take?" Ryan asked aloud.

"Fairly little time, considering we have a pre-constructed facility and my knowledge at our disposal," Aoste replied from the side. "We can recycle the bodies of the Executor-class for the vessels of the Antiochus, and if my estimations are correct, they should be ready in time for the planetary alignment. But for the METAs, I can't say; we should ask Anzeel."

"I see. Then as soon as she's done with her other business we'll bring her over. In the meantime, you can start with bringing Observer back and hear what she has to say," Ryan declared. Then he turned toward the doctor, extending a hand to him, much to the other man's confusion. "Thank you for your contribution; this might sound... contrived, considering where we are both coming from, but I truly appreciate your help, doctor."

Aoste looked down at his hand first, then back at him with a questioning gaze.

"There's no need to thank me for this," he replied solemnly, but right as Ryan was about to retract his hand, he grasped it with his own in a firm shake. "But you are quite welcome, Commander," he added earnestly.

With that, the two broke the handshake and returned their focus to their respective occupations.


Fast forward a couple days, and the Commander was back in his office at the joint base. The sortie had given him a bit of reprieve from the ever-increasing paperwork, but now he was back to his usual routine, waiting for Observer's new body to be completed.

The facility was already in full motion, with the Siren base having become a sort of secondary outpost for his fleet. Aoste had decided to remain there to personally supervise the process, along with Devil, of course, Purifier, and a flotilla of Kansen he had assigned to him for protection in case of retaliation from the enemy.

He doubted the Sirens would be interested in recapturing what, to them, must be nothing more than an expendable outpost, but his guess was as good as anyone's. He didn't know how far their influence had spread or how strong their hold on the Antiochus' stuff was; that's what he was trying to find out by agreeing to Observer's terms. Which was why the importance held by the newly captured base was paramount for the war effort, and it warranted the extra hands for protection.

Something else was weighing on his mind, though.

Before he left the outpost, Devil had informed him that she had lost contact with the drones she had sent to track the Siren convoy after they were caught in a storm. Luckily, she had managed to get their last known location before losing them. Thanks to that, TB was able to trace the hypothetical course of the convoy, which led up to the North, as it turned out.

That left him puzzled.

"The North? What could they possibly want from there?" Shoukaku wondered from the side. She had resumed her role as his secretary and was sitting at her own desk, helping him with paperwork as usual.

"The only relevant thing that comes to mind is Omitter's old base," Ryan said, nodding a thank-you to Belfast as the maid set a cup of tea on his desk. "But we took care of her a long time ago with the help of the Northern Parliament; the place has been abandoned since then," he added before taking a sip.

"Could they be trying to revive Omitter?" The maid offered.

"Mmh… No, that's impossible; we destroyed her mainframe," Ryan mused. "She's gone for good, and even if she weren't, what good would she do to them?"

The three of them were trying to put together the few pieces of information they had at their disposal on the matter, taking advantage of one of the few breaks the Commander allowed himself from all the paperwork, but unfortunately, there wasn't much they could work on.

TB had even tried to run an analysis of the data at her disposal and found nothing relevant regarding the North outside of a few sets of coordinates that led to nothing concrete.

"Whatever it is they are looking for, it's definitely something big," Ryan concluded, the two shipgirls agreeing with him.

After Devil's report, further investigations were carried out. The shipboys had resonated with the Cubes extracted from the bodies of the two defeated Original Sirens. They broke into their "minds" and confirmed that the destination of the Siren convoy was indeed the Arctic Circle.

And not only that, but apparently, the Sirens were emptying every single outpost they had inherited from the Antiochus. They were transferring all the spare materials and supplies they could find, resulting in what was essentially a mass mobilization of resources, all heading toward the same destination.

Normally, such a vast deployment of mass-produced vessels would raise a few eyebrows, but with a global crisis in full swing, no wonder it had gone unnoticed.

Whether that was also part of the Sirens' plan, Ryan didn't know.

What he knew, though, was that when Observer would be back, they might find the answer to all their questions. In the meantime, the only thing he could do was wait and relay the news to Sovetsky Soyuz. The Northern Parliament was the only one that could actively check on the situation up there and hopefully find something concrete they could work on.

"Whatever it is, let's just hope it's not too late," he thought.


Sparviero and Carabiniere were walking side by side, holding hands.

Before the operation, when they would walk together, the shipboy used to hold his trusty cane in his hand, while the shipgirl's arm would be hooked under his own as she led him along with measured steps.

But things were different now.

Chin up with confidence, eyes wide open in excitement, and a radiant smile on his face, this time around, Sparviero was the one setting the pace of their walk. He had forgone his cane, having no further need of it, and his gaze darted around the place as he took in the sights around him.

Excitement radiated from his every pore, and he was so taken by their surroundings that Carabiniere didn't have the heart to tell him that he was all but dragging her like a tugboat. Well, to be fair, she was the one lagging behind, her shorter legs struggling to keep up with him, but she'd rather die than openly admit it. In the end, it was nice for a change to be the one being led by her lover and not the opposite, so she was just content with letting him enjoy himself.

He looked like a little kid, marveling at everything they came across, and she couldn't help the fond smile that came to her lips as she stared at him.

When Sparviero turned to her, her heart skipped a beat. His blindfold was tucked below his chin and around his neck like a foulard, and he had cut his grayish-white, medium-length hair short to keep it from falling in front of his eyes.

"Cara?"

Only then did she notice that they had come to a stop and that he was addressing her.

"Uh, y-yeah?" She stuttered, internally chastising herself. She still hadn't gotten used to his new, vibrant eyes, and she had lost herself in his gaze for a moment.

"Which way now?" He asked her again, oblivious to her reason for spacing out.

"Oh, this way," she said, pulling on his arm as she resumed walking. She made sure to stay one step ahead of him to hide the embarrassment on her face, but that wasn't necessary, as the shipboy was back to admire the surroundings.

The docks, the buildings, the sea, the clouds running through the azure sky—all the things that anyone else would take for granted were a totally new experience for him. It wasn't his first time outside since the operation, but that didn't mean he had gotten used to it. The most interesting part was associating the visuals of what he was seeing with the sounds and smells he had grown accustomed to over time, much like an association game for kids.

He would have loved for the walk to last longer, but alas, they had an appointment at the training bay and were already running late. In fact, as they arrived at their destination, they noticed their group of friends waiting for them.

They could see Admiral Graf Spee sitting on one of the benches to the side of the area next to the bay, with the rest of the shipgirls sitting beside or standing around her. Surprisingly, the attention of the group was all on her, which made Sparviero's chest well up in relief. Leviathan had informed him about the cruiser's troubles and how they had gone on resolving them; his brother would be happy to know that his little friend was doing well, he thought.

Spee had indeed made significant progress with her social anxiety, to the point where she now felt comfortable chatting casually with multiple people at once, even with someone she wasn't that familiar with, like in this case, the new addition to the group.

"That must have been so scary; I'm so glad you are all right, Spee," Fortune META gasped after Spee finished talking.

"T-thank you; it was scary, yes, but somehow we managed to get through it," Spee responded.

"You should have seen it, Fortune; that thing was so gross," Javelin added, shuddering as she addressed the META destroyer. By now, the METAs had integrated perfectly within the base, and Fortune had become an integral part of their group.

It had all started after the obsequies for Ash and Cinder, with Javelin being the first to address her. The purple-haired destroyer, as the gentle soul she was, simply wanted to cheer up the dejected girl, who resembled so much the Fortune she was so familiar with. She had approached her with the clear intent of making friends, which initially threw off the demurer META, but with her bubbly personality and the help of everyone else, they did their best to make her feel welcome.

"Oh, Sparviero and Carabiniere have arrived," Laffey mumbled as she noticed the pair approaching.

"Ciao ragazze, sorry for the wait," Carabiniere said to them. "What are you doing?"

"We were listening to Spee's story," Ayanami told her. "She's telling us about that squid thing."

"You mean the Flayer-type?" Sparviero inquired.

"Indeed," Z23 confirmed. "What about you? Have you gotten used to the brightness of daylight?"

"Yup, I've completely adjusted, and I'm ready to start," the shipboy confirmed. "So, are you all ready?" He asked aloud, and after receiving a nod from everyone, he moved to stand in front of the bench, with the shipgirls' attention shifting to him.

The place was mostly empty, as most of the Kansen who would frequently make use of it were too busy to have any sparring matches or mock battles lately. That meant they had all the space they wanted for themselves, even if it wasn't like they were going to use it all.

"Mmh, let's see, where to begin?" He pondered.

"Why don't you start by telling us what we should do if we encounter one of those things?" Shimakaze proposed.

"Er… I'm gonna be honest here, Shimakaze—just run," Sparviero replied. "With your speed, you might be able to kill them before they get their tentacles on you, but the risk of losing your free will in case of failure is too high; you should just pull back and wait for someone to take care of them."

"Someone able to withstand their brainwashing like you and Spee?" Z23 asked him.

"That's right. No need to put yourselves in danger when there's already us hard-countering them," he answered.

"Wait, are you saying that you aren't going to teach us Wisdom Crafting?" Ayanami asked him with a dejected tone.

The shipboy didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Ayanami; I don't think we'll have time to get to that part," he told her honestly, making her excitement deflate. "It was already hard enough to get all nine of us together for this, and the Commander wants me to help other people too. I'm afraid we won't have time for a full course. We'll have to settle for covering the basics." Not wanting to crush her hopes so bluntly, he quickly added, "But don't worry; if you work hard enough, everything else will come by itself!"

"If you say so..."

Sparviero grimaced internally. That seemed to do little to brighten the shipgirl's mood, but it couldn't be helped; lying wouldn't do any good.

To make sure none of his subordinates would fall prey to the Flayer-types and their brainwashing, Ryan had kickstarted his idea to have the Kansen undergo the same training as Massachusetts, Zuikaku, and the others as soon as he had returned to the base. Of course, that meant having the shipboys teach the shipgirls, just like Freedom had already done with them, and today was the first day of the group of destroyers.

There were a few issues with that idea, though: learning Wisdom Crafting required a lot of time, intense effort, and thus, extensive training. Putting aside the fact that it didn't take them much, Spee, Massachusetts, and the others had had all the time they needed to learn and practice their Wisdom Crafting. Given the current situation, everyone else's schedules would be too tight to commit to the same effort. Besides, the destroyers' wasn't the only group that needed teaching, and there were only three shipboys available. Sparviero, Kurama, and Freedom would have to limit their lessons to the basics.

"But is that going to be enough?" Carabiniere inquired. "Wouldn't it be a waste of time if it turned out be for nothing?"

"Not exactly. Wisdom Crafting in and of itself isn't necessary to protect oneself from the Flayers' mind control," Sparviero answered. "You should see it more as the consequence of Kansen achieving complete control over their Cubes. What's important is that you learn to put up some mental defenses in case you encounter them."

"So, does that mean we aren't going to train today?" Shimakaze asked him.

"Nope," said Sparviero. "Today we meditate."


Since there was no need for actual practice, the group opted to leave the training bay and move to one of the grassy hills overlooking the base. They brought towels on which to lay down for the unusual training session and found repair under the shade provided by the lonely tree at the top of the hill.

The eight shipgirls were sitting down cross-legged on their own towels with their rigging out, hands joined, and eyes closed. It all looked like some kind of weird yoga session, with Sparviero moving around to check on them and correcting them every now and then. They were all seemingly caught in their own meditative state, trying to stay still and control their breathing like he told them, but it wouldn't be a surprise if someone were to fall asleep.

"Laffey, you can't sleep in the middle of practice," Sparviero told the groggy destroyer, gently shaking her awake.

"Zzz… But the weather's so nice; it's perfect for a nap," Laffey breathed out with a yawn.

"Javelin, I can see you snickering back there; focus," the shipboy added, glancing at the purple-haired shipgirl, who immediately went back to concentrate.

As expected, the two of them were the most troublesome of the group, with Javelin being unable to stay still for more than a minute and Laffey having the opposite issue. Shimakaze, Ayanami, Z23, and Carabiniere were the ones taking it more seriously. The two Sakura Kansen were already familiar with this kind of training from back in their homeland, while the Sardinian and the Iron Blood were simply determined to do things properly. Admiral Graf Spee, despite having no need for further training, had decided to join her friends in the meditation session anyway to not feel left out.

And then there was Fortune. The META seemed troubled, unable to focus, if the frown on her face and the way she was biting her lower lip were any indication.

Sparviero decided to check on her. "Fortune, are you okay? Is something bothering you?" He asked her, kneeling down on the grass next to her spot.

"I-I'm okay," she replied with a stutter. "It's just that... emptying the mind is harder than I thought. It brings back bad memories…"

Sparviero knew what she was talking about. Thanks to Emperor, he was aware of what she and her META comrades had been through before reaching this timeline; everybody knew. Normally, this kind of situation would call for some words of comfort, but usually, the shipboy was the one being consoled by others, not the other way around, and he didn't know what to say to cheer up the dejected destroyer.

"Maybe we should just stop here if it's too much for you," he suggested.

"N-no, I want to do this," she immediately said. "I want to be of help to everyone…"

At least to that, the shipboy could relate. The desire to be useful and prove himself to his loved ones. He was very familiar with those feelings.

"How did you do it, Sparviero?" She asked him, breaking the awkward silence they had fallen into. "How did you deal with those things back in your world? How did you fight back when you couldn't defend yourselves?"

He pursed his lips and lowered his gaze at that.

Back in his world, when the war with the Sirens was still in full swing, the existence of the Flayer-types was the main reason why the various factions had such a hard time coming together. Mistrust and suspicion dominated as everyone was too preoccupied investigating and driving out any brainwashed Kansen from their own ranks to form and maintain any long-standing alliance with the other factions.

The risk of having their best weapons compromised by the enemy was also one of the reasons why the Kansen were treated so harshly initially. Not to mention the trust issues the shipboys themselves began developing with the stress of having to constantly watch their backs for fear of being backstabbed by their own comrades.

"We didn't," Sparviero replied truthfully. "We only learned to protect us many years into the war. I came fairly late, but my brothers told me they had to put down a lot of their comrades who had fallen under the enemy's control."

That horrible situation began changing with the Kansen rebellion when, around that same time, the knowledge of Wisdom Crafting was brought to them.

From then on, as more and more Kansen learned to control their Cubes, the Flayer-types became less and less dangerous. Their numbers began dwindling, and the cases of brainwashing began diminishing drastically until, eventually, the Sirens realized that the Flayers had outlived their utility and simply stopped deploying them.

The Flayer-type they had encountered must be one of the remnants from those times.

"I don't want to lose control if I ever get captured…" Fortune added, shuddering in fear as she hugged herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be forced to fight my own comrades," she added, on the verge of breaking down

Sparviero's eyes widened. He tried to rack his brain for something to say, but in front of the traumatized shipgirl, his mouth went dry. He bit his lips and averted his gaze, unable to come up with anything worth uttering.

But then something came to his mind.

The Flayers must be the reason the Antiochus were being controlled; that much was a given. They were "just" androids with anthropomorphized personalities installed in their Cubes, which made them easier for the Original Sirens to manipulate. Even if they put up some walls around their minds, the Sirens would simply need to hack into them.

The Kansen, on the other hand, possessed an actual "soul" with human emotions within their Cubes, and their ability to defend themselves came from their own willpower, something that no coding could reprogram.

Then what about the METAs? Weren't they also possessed with strong, albeit altered, emotions?

"Fortune, you said that you can't summon your old hull, right?" He asked her.

"N-no, I can't," Fortune replied, the sudden question taking her mind off those unhealthy thoughts. "None of us Metas can any longer…" she added, dejected.

"So, that's how it is," Sparviero thought. The METAs were unable to summon their ships. It was most likely due to the corruption affecting their Cubes and altering their rigging and minds, but he couldn't ignore the fact that it was the same outcome as anyone who had ever learned Wisdom Crafting.

That made the shipboy wonder.

Maybe it was a bit of a stretch, but could the Metamorphosis be some sort of twisted shortcut to the same power granted by Wisdom Crafting? Or maybe an unfortunate alternative to the learning process. After all, Fortune's rigging did look like something that would come out of someone's Wisdom Crafting, albeit more terrific and twisted, which admittedly reflected the destroyer and the other METAs' general state of mind.

But then that begged the question: could it be that the METAs were immune to brainwashing?

Initially, he figured that the troubled minds of the METAs would be much easier for the Flayers to exploit, but now that he thought about it, maybe it was the opposite. Maybe their minds were just too messed up for the Sirens to control them.

Sparviero pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. Those were just his assumptions based on nothing but conjecture. He would talk about it with Anzeel and Aoste as soon as he got hold of one of them. But it would be a while before that happened, as the doctors were both already occupied.

For now, he would just explain his train of thought to the poor META, trying to be as convincing as possible in his attempt at reassuring her.

"Don't worry, Fortune; whether it's true or not, we'll protect you," he declared after he finished. "Me, Carabiniere, Javelin, everyone... We won't allow anything to happen to you, I promise."

Fortune's chest swelled with elation. Her eyes shifted from his comforting smile to the determined gazes of the other destroyers, who had broken their focus to listen in on their conversation. They all regarded her with intense and determined stares, and she could feel the reassuring confidence exuding from them.

The META couldn't help the tearful smile that came to her lips.

"Thank you so much, everyone."


AN: "LeT's JuSt HoPe It'S nOt ToO lAtE."

Next Chapter: Awakening