"I see you've already made yourself comfortable, Your Majesty," Jean Bart sneered at Queen Elizabeth.

"And I see you haven't changed one bit, Jean Bart," the flagship of the Royal Navy shot back. "I was expecting you'd be a bit more friendly after stepping so close to death's door, but alas, a tiger doesn't change its stripes."

Around them, the Royal Navy Kansen escorting Queen Elizabeth gawked at the Vichya woman's new hull. It was moored at the docks to let the people on board disembark, and by itself, it occupied most of the available space.

"Yeah, and a deer doesn't grow taller than a giraffe," Jean Beart quipped with a sly smile that didn't fail to elicit the expected reaction from the short monarch.

"What was that, prick?!"

"What, can't you hear me from down there, shorty?"

"Madame Elizabeth, welcome to our home," Richelieu said as she came down from her sister's ship, drawing the attention of the queen away from her confrontation with Jean Bart. "I trust our officers have treated you well in our absence."

Queen Elizabeth shot one last glare at Jean Bart before turning to address Richelieu, clearing her throat.

"Fret not, Cardinal; the lads were perfect gentlemen," the monarch reassured her, eliciting beaming smiles from the group of human officers observing the interaction from the side. They were the ones who, in Richelieu's absence, had welcomed the Royal Navy fleet upon their arrival. "Servant, it's good to see you in one piece; and you as well, Emperor," she then said, turning to address the two men approaching.

"Your Majesty, elegantly late to the party, are we?" The shipboy greeted the queen with a short curtsy, with Ryan following behind him.

They were finally back at Brest, where they had found the Royal Navy fleet—that was supposed to intercept Tower before they engaged her—waiting for them. After missing her, Queen Elizabeth had had her fleet keep following the Arbiter's course, intending to meet up with the other fleets and to join them in the engagement, but the battle had ended before that could happen.

As such, upon receiving news of the Arbiter's fall, Elizabeth had decided to keep going and meet up with everyone at Brest instead of turning back and returning home, seeing as though they were already en route. She and her subordinates had felt slightly peeved upon finding out about that. They would have much preferred to get back at the Arbiter for the destruction she had caused in their territories, but in the end, they were just glad she couldn't cause any more harm and that their comrades had come out of the engagement with minimal losses.

"Quiet, you," Elizabeth shot back at him. "There's no need to highlight our shortcomings. Being unable to help in such a situation is upsetting enough as it is; no need to rub salt into the wound," she said in a surprisingly demure way.

"He was just joking, Your Majesty," Ryan intervened. "It wasn't your fault you missed Tower."

"What do you mean, servant?" Elizabeth inquired.

"It was Tester's doing," he explained. "She was being controlled by the Original Sirens, just like Observer. She used her power to camouflage Tower's rigging and make it go unnoticed for as long as she could. That's how they were able to walk past you."

"Uh, so that's how it went... And here I practiced so much how to apologize..." she muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?"

She waved him off. "Nothing; it seems there's more to this matter than meets the eye. We should retire to discuss things in a more private setting."

"Of course, Madame Elizabeth," Richelieu said. "Please, follow me."


As the flagships and the Commander retired to bring Elizabeth up to speed with everything that transpired from their encounter with Tower, the Kansen who had taken part in the sortie began mingling with the rest of the people in the port.

The newly arrived Royal Navy shipgirls, along with the sailors, the officers, and the rest of the human personnel stationed at Brest, were dying to find out how it had all played out. They crowded around the Jean Bart as the returning Kansen disembarked, cheering and waving at them to welcome them.

Soon, the docks quickly turned into a bustling hub of commotion. Groups began forming, and conversations began overlapping as voices rose over one another. Eager questions mixed with animated chatter as every corner was filled with people exchanging pleasantries, information, concerns...

As for everyone else, the cacophony of unintelligible noises prompted the more introverted Kansen to hastily retire to the peace and quiet of their dorms, and some of the Kansen of the Iris Orthodoxy took it upon themselves to show the guests their lodgings. Knowing Queen Elizabeth, she and her subordinates would most likely be spending the night, at the very least, before departing.

Sophie—the reporter—and her crew disembarked as well, the camera already rolling. The woman's eyes widened in disbelief as the sheer mass of Kansen—and opportunity—around them, her trained journalist's nose already smelling all the scoops at hand's reach.

The exclusive interview she had gotten from Bismarck and the entire after-battle service were already headline-grabbers by themselves, but she couldn't let the chance of having so many Kansen together all at once slip past her; no reporter would ever be this lucky again.

The most sensational thing would be to snag an exclusive with one of the shipboys. Apart from the Iron Blood flagship, she hadn't been able to catch anyone else after Jean Bart caught her scouring her vessel without permission and confined her and her crew inside their cabins. She had to hurry up and take advantage of the chaotic situation now that they weren't being watched before someone kicked them out of the base.

She scanned the surroundings with hawk eyes until her gaze settled on a lonesome shipgirl standing at the edge of the crowd. She recognized her as one of the South Dakota-class sisters. She didn't know what she was doing by herself, but she seemed to be expecting someone.

"Quick, follow me," she told her cameraman, then she set off.


Massachusetts was waiting at the edge of the docks, scanning the crowd before her with eyes full of anticipation and apprehension.

Being the only one left behind had left a bad taste in her mouth. Sure, all it took her was a few hours of rest before the dizziness and nausea of abusing her power went away, but after that, as much as she hated inactivity, all she could do as she waited was pace around and worry.

Concerned gnawed at her as she fretted for her sisters, her friends, her lover... Her nerves had eased a little when the Royal Navy fleet had finally reached the base, bringing news of the operation's success, but her fears didn't disappear completely. What if, despite the victory, something horrible had happened to them? With every second that passed without spotting their faces in the crowd, her concern grew deeper, and she braced for the worst.

Until her gaze fell on one of the gangways and her eyes met Freedom's, her heart skipping a beat.

The shipboy also perked up at the sight of her. Instead of covering the remaining distance between them on foot, he called out his wings and took off in the blink of an eye, making the people around him stumble at the noise and wind pressure they unleashed.

He glided over the crowd, so low that he could almost touch the people's heads, turning a few gazes towards him, until he reached Massachusetts' position. He dismissed his wings, which disappeared in a flash of light, and landed right next to her.

"Mamie," he said as he beamed at her and spread his arms.

No further invitation was needed. She threw her arms around his neck, and the two locked themselves in a tight embrace, the shipgirl's worries finally washing away for good.

"Feeling better?" He asked her as they broke the hug after a while.

"Yes. Is everyone…?" She trailed off, still holding onto him.

"They are all right; don't worry," he reassured her.

"Then why do you look so gloomy?" She inquired bluntly, staring up at him.

He winced and averted his gaze in shame. She saw right through him.

"There was someone I couldn't save…" he revealed, his voice barely above a whisper. He briefly explained what happened during the battle: his hesitation, the way he was forced to choose between lives, and lastly, La Gallissonnière META's demise.

When he was done, she looked up at him with eyes full of fondness. She was sure he had been keeping it all bottled up and had only waited until now to take it off his chest.

She clasped his dejected face with her hands, prompting him to look her in the eyes. "You don't have to beat yourself up so much. No one will blame you for what happened, and you shouldn't either," she told him. "Don't worry. I know you did everything you could. I won't think any less of you for that."

With that said, she leaned into him and pressed her lips on his in a warm kiss. He pulled her in as he lost himself in the comfort of her touch, wrapping his arms around her once more.

They lost themselves in each other for a few seconds, their minds tuning out their surroundings, muffling the voices and the chaos around them so that they could focus only on each other.

At least until Freedom's eyes fluttered open and he found himself with the lens of a camera all but stuffed in his face. He broke the kiss and reeled back in surprise, much to Massachusetts' confusion, who also took quick notice of the disturbance.

The two lovers stood there, holding each other as they looked to the side with befuddled expressions on their faces.

Meeting their weirded-out gazes was Sophie, her own face a mix of childish enthusiasm and embarrassment at the awkwardness of the situation.

She clutched the microphone in her hands and brought it forward, letting out the most casually innocent smile she could muster.

"Erm… Would you mind answering some questions?"


A few hours later, dusk came. When the Commander and the flagships came out of the Cardinal's office after finishing bringing Elizabeth up to speed, the situation at the docks had already calmed down; human personnel and Kansen had retired to their own quarters or resumed their obligations, and the journalists were promptly shown to the door—but not after having obtained plenty of juicy material for themselves.

Richelieu had insisted on holding a ceremony to honor the fallen, to which only a few people took part, that is, the META Kansen. Not because any of them had any faith left—or ever to begin with—but because it was their last goodbye to their comrade, and it would have been rude not to show up when the Cardinal had been so welcoming about it.

After that, it was time for the long-awaited victory party.

One would think it in bad taste to hold a party right after a funeral, but the human personnel had already organized and set everything up. They had begun as soon as they had received news of the success of the operation, as a way to celebrate the effort of the Kansen, and since it would have been a waste to just call everything off, in the end, it was decided to do it. Besides, both the Royal Navy fleet and the joint fleet would depart the following day, and there wouldn't be many more chances for any of them to meet up like this later.

So here they were, humans and Kansen—a lot of Kansen—mingling once again in the port's event hall. The large doors of the building that resembled a chapel in the more classic Iris Orthodoxy architectural style were left wide open to allow the participants to go in and out as they pleased; drinks were served, tables were set up, lights were turned on, and music was put on.

Queen Elizabeth looked around herself, at her comrades and subordinates mingling with their friends and allies, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. This was literally the only moment of unwinding she had gotten in a while, and she intended to make the most of it.

Sure, it wasn't like the lavish formal parties she and the rest of the Royal Navy Kansen were used to back in their home, but these kinds of more laidback gatherings also had their charm.

Ryan seemed to be on the same page as her, as he seemed to be indulging himself a bit too much in the drinks. With him was Shoukaku; the two seemed to have stopped caring about etiquette and composure and were literally stuck to the hips as they danced to the lento playing in the background. Rumors would start spreading about the Commander of Azur Lane having an affair with one of his subordinates; the only way they could stop it was if he agreed to dance with others as well, but at this point neither of them seemed to care anymore. Strangely enough, Akagi was nowhere to be seen; she was probably seething in rage somewhere unseen.

Deutschland had reunited with her sister and was making up for the time they were separated by doting on her in the most affectionate and embarrassing way possible, that is, continuously trying to spoon-feed her, much to Admiral Graf Spee's chagrin, who was unable to say no to her sister's antics.

Unicorn was more than glad to see her friends again. The destroyers of Azur Lane would depart the following day, and the time spent on the way back to the port hadn't been enough for them, so they were making the most of it right now.

Other reunions were happening as well, especially between the Royal Navy delegation and the fleet Elizabeth had brought with her; the first would be Prince of Wales being finally able to catch up with Howe and King George V, as the both of them had come here with the joint fleet.

"Enjoying the party, Your Majesty?" Bismarck asked her as she approached her, drink in hand.

"Quite so," Elizabeh replied with a nod. "There are a few things I'd have done differently, but alas, there's only so much you can expect from a bunch of enthusiastic sailors."

"They mean well, but there wasn't much more they could do, not with so little notice," Bismarck chimed. "I'll take this anytime, especially if I think of the mess awaiting me when I return home after this," she added, her face twisting into a grimace as she spoke.

"Don't remind me... That's not a topic I'm eager to discuss right now," the queen said, her face mimicking the other woman's. "You woke up at the right moment; we needed someone else with a good head on their shoulders to help with the mess."

"I can imagine," Bismarck commented, pausing to take a long sip of her drink, followed suit by Elizabeth.

"Oh, that reminds me..." the queen perked up. "Since we are on the subject, I still haven't had the chance to say thank you."

"For what?" Bismarck inquired, confused.

"For saving us, back at the Basilica," said Elizabeth. "You and Jean Bart used your bodies to protect us, and even if you did it just for your comrades, it's a matter of fact that you saved me and my subjects as well. For that, you have my gratitude and that of the entire Royal Navy," she declared solemnly. "But there's no way in hell I'm ever going to say this to that aggravating blockhead of a pirate woman," she added in her mind.

"I didn't say that, but... anytime, Your Majesty," Bismarck said with a smile, slightly raising her glass at her before taking another ship. "By the way, you never told me why you did that in the end."

This time, it was Elizabeth's turn to be confused. "Did what?"

"Convincing your superiors not to take it out on the Iron Blood after I lost control in that Mirror Sea," Bismarck specified. "You vouched for me, covered for me, why?"

"I told you; it was my servant's idea. I only agreed because I figured it was the perfect chance to have the head of the Kriegsmarine indebted to me," she shrugged, waving her off. "And would you look at that? It worked. You felt compelled to risk your life to save mine. If that's not proof of my farsightedness, then I don't know what that is," she added haughtily, but by the looks Bismarck was giving her, Elizabeth realized the other flagship wouldn't be satisfied with such a dismissive explanation. "Also because Hood insisted," she added demurely.

"I figured it was something like that," Bismarck mused. "You have quite a soft spot for her, huh?"

"I have a soft spot for all my subjects, I'll have you know. I don't make preferences," the queen retorted. "You should understand where I'm coming from."

"I do," she replied, looking ahead at where U-556 was entertaining a group of Kansen and sailors by excitedly retelling the story of how Bismarck had bravely faced Tower's rigging while riding into battle on top of Geryon's head.

They stayed like that in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the atmosphere. Occasionally, their quiet was interrupted by Kansen and officers alike approaching them for brief greetings and pleasantries, which they engaged in cordially, their long-standing roles as flagships having thoroughly accustomed them to these kinds of formalities.

"By the way, Richelieu said she's sending an official delegation to the joint base back with the Kommandant," Bismarck piped up after a while. "Jean Bart is going as her representative."

"Oh? Those two have just patched things up and are already parting ways?"

"Jean Bart said something about having a better use in mind for her new ship with the joint fleet, and Richelieu agreed," Bismarck explained. "Also, Hood told me that Dunkerque is staying there as her assistant," she added, her voice taking on a more inquisitive tone. "She also told me that she's expecting you to call her back now that she's completely recovered."

"And did she say all that knowing that you'd come and tell me?" Elizabeth asked her, quirking her eyebrow up.

"Possibly," Bismarck shrugged. "She's shrewder that she lets off."

"Always has been," Elizabeth said with a huff. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"Well, she told me that she misses her home but that she can't bring herself to leave the Kommandant's side," Bismarck told her. "Not after everything he's done for her."

"I should have expected that; I'll allow her to stay at the joint base until she pleases, which, to be fair, is probably going to be until the end of the war," Elizabeth breathed out a sigh. Then, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention, making her frown. "Well, I hope you have a nice evening. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to address one of my subjects," she told Bismarck before downing the last gulp of wine in her glass.

"Oh, sure," Bismarck nodded. "I'll see you around, then."

"Oh, one last thing… I'm glad you are back with us, Iron Blood. Do try not to let that new power get to your head; I wouldn't want to have a repeat of what happened last time," Elizabeth said before setting off.

Bismarck couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," she said with a smile. "And don't worry; I'm not planning on it."


"Hermione, where do you think you are going?"

Hermione froze in her steps upon hearing her queen's voice from behind her. Plate full of empty glasses in hand, she turned on her heels to curtsy at her.

"Your Majesty, I was just bringing these to the kitchen," Hermione replied, putting up a smile. "Are you enjoying the party?" She asked her.

"Don't try to change the subject now," Elizabeth said, putting her hands on her hips. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

"N-notice what, Your Majesty?" Hermione stammered. "Have I done something to displease you?"

"You've been avoiding me the entire time since you came back," Elizabeth accused her, pointing her scepter right in her face. "Aren't you glad to see your queen?"

"I-I am, Your Majesty; I'm just..." the maid frantically replied. "Forgive me, my mind is still on what happened back then," she said, a blush coming to her face.

Surprisingly, that seemed to appease the shorter shipgirl.

"Mmh, I suppose that's reasonable; it must have been hard on you, taking on such a threat," Elizabeth finally said, her gaze softening and her temper abating.

"V-verily so," Hermione said, her eyes darting around to avoid her queen's.

"Also, what's that thing you are wearing around your neck? That's unusual."

Hermione's heart dropped in her stomach, and she almost lost her grip on the tray she was holding. If her hands were free, she would bring them up to caress the foulard she was wearing. The black cloth was wrapped neatly with a bow behind her nape, concealing the skin of her neck, and loose enough in the front to cover a generous amount of her cleavage as well.

"T-this is…" she trailed off.

"Hermione… Are you hiding something from your queen?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her, having clearly noticed the maid's hesitation.

"Erm…"

"Hermione, take that thing off," she told the maid sternly.

Gulping at the steel in the queen's voice, Hermione relented. She set the tray on the closest table, then she brought her hands up behind her neck to untie the bow, allowing the foulard to come undone and to reveal the skin of her neck and collarbone.

"Aha, now I see," Elizabeth's eyes lit up in understanding. A bunch of small, dark marks littered the maid's fair skin, marring both her neck and cleavage in an irregular pattern.

Hermione looked down, ashamed. "Your Majesty, this is..."

"Don't worry, Hermione, I understand," Elizabeth cut her off with an empathetic smile. "You were trying to hide the bruises you got during the battle; I get it. It was insensitive of me to push you so. Do forgive your queen, if you would."

Hermione remained speechless, her mouth hanging half-agape, not knowing what to say. She was having trouble formulating a response, not expecting the sudden direction in the conversation. She couldn't just blatantly lie to her queen, not after she'd shown so much concern for her, could she?

Thankfully, a distraction came to take the awkwardness away.

"Hermione, there you are~" a male voice called out, drawing both shipgirls' attention. "Oh, you are here too, Your Majesty."

They turned to see none other than Emperor himself approaching them. The shipboy bore a large smile on his face, which quickly turned into a sheepish grin when he noticed Hermione's panicked expression and the fact that she wasn't wearing her foulard anymore.

"Ah, Your Majesty, I see you've discovered my little... 'gift' to Hermione," he stammered out an awkward chuckle, noticing the queen's scrutinizing gaze.

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up in confusion as the maid's face paled.

"Your gift?

"Yeah, we are sorry about that; we didn't want you to find out like this," he said, scratching the back of his head, completely oblivious to the pleading gaze the maid was sending him. "Please don't be too harsh on her. It was entirely my fault. I came onto her too strongly."

"Erm, Master…"

"Hold on, what are you talking about, Emperor?" Elizabeth crossed her arms and turned to address him properly. She felt like she was missing something, and she didn't like that.

"Well, I was hoping to do this with a little more notice, with a proper gift and all, but seeing as though the surprise is off and that this is the only chance we are going to get for the foreseeable future..." Emperor trailed off, slowly bending down to one knee in front of her.

Silence fell over not just the trio of Kansen but the entire hall. The music stopped, the chatter died down, and a low buzz began spreading around as a myriad of eyes settled on them. Everyone looked at them with bated breath, completely invested in the dramatic turn of events.

"Your Majesty, I know we might have caused you offense by skipping over a few steps; even so, may I ask you to give us your blessing?" Emperor asked her as Hermione gasped in shock and brought her hands up to cover her mouth, her face flushing a deep crimson.

"M-m-my blessing?" Elizabeth blurted in disbelief, her eyes as wide as searchlights, completely taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

"I, Emperor, of the Ruler-class of escort carriers, humbly beseech you to grant me permission to officially court your faithful subordinate here," Emperor stated, articulating each word with solemn purpose. "Even in these trying times, I promise to care for her and make her happy with every fiber of my being."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in realization. The marks on Hermione's skin, her embarrassment, the fact that she had been avoiding her... Everything came crashing down on her, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks, feeling like a fool for not connecting the dots earlier.

So that's what the shipboy had meant with 'gift.' Her mind was invaded by images of Hermione and Emperor caught in acts of debauchery, with the shipboy pushing down the maid and pinning her beneath him as he took his pleasure from her, making her squirm and whimper as she begged him to keep going-

Elizabeth shook her head, casting away those thoughts. The heat burning her face was so strong she was starting to feel lightheaded, but she had to get it together.

This wasn't the time to let her imagination get the better of her. The people in the room had already started howling, calling out her silence, and Emperor and Hermione were eagerly waiting for her response.

She loudly cleared her throat, prompting the room to turn silent once again, then she took a deep breath.

"Given the invaluable help you offered the Royal Navy—nay, all of humanity—with your contributions, your bravery, and your acumen in and outside battle, I, Queen Elizabeth, shall heed your request! Your actions have solidified your reputation as an honorable man and an esteemed Kansen; as such, I deem you worthy of romantically pursuing one of my most faithful retainers." She raised her scepter in a grandiose gesture and brought it down one inch short of his head before slamming its butt to the floor with a loud clang. "With my authority as flagship of the Royal Navy, I grant you permission to court this woman. Proceed with the respect and dignity befitting her station, and may your intentions be as noble as your service," she concluded with a pleased nod. "Congratulations."

The room erupted in applause. Hermione's eyes filled with tears as Emperor stood up to kiss her, their embrace prompting the cheers to grow even louder.

Elizabeth hummed in satisfaction, ultimately pleased with herself for how she handled the situation. If she had to be honest, this was the last thing she would have expected when she had first assigned the maid to keep an eye on him, a time that now felt like an eternity ago after everything that happened in between. Now, thinking back on the way Hermione talked about him whenever she reported to her, Elizabeth realized she should have seen that coming a mile away.

Of course, that wouldn't save the maid from a good scolding later.

Emperor, for his part, didn't miss the way Elizabeth had looked at him during the last part of her speech or the way she had accentuated some of her words.

He got the message: don't break her heart, or I'll have the entirety of the Royal Navy on your ass.

Not that he had any intention of doing that.


Lenin watched from the side as everyone around him applauded, including himself. Emperor and Hermione were doing what everyone did when being on the receiving end of a round of applause, that is, fidgeting awkwardly, not knowing where to look at or what to do as they waited for the clapping to die down.

It only lasted a few seconds; immediately after, Kansen began swarming the couple, eager to offer their congratulations. The first to do so were Leviathan and Freedom, who came out of the crowd with big smiles on their faces to give their brother some very strong pats on the back. Then it was everyone else's turn, and by the time Lenin decided to step forward, the crowd was too dense even for someone of his height to step through.

He resigned himself to waiting for later; there would be plenty of time, and there was no rush. He decided to step back and wait for the crowd to disperse, and in the meantime, his mind began traveling on its own.

Seeing Emperor getting all embarrassed and sheepish was a rare sight, and he certainly wasn't going to miss the chance to tease him about it later. Even though, if he had to be honest, he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. It wasn't exactly fresh news that the two of them were together; in fact, the most surprised out of all those present seemed to be Queen Elizabeth.

Maybe, to everyone, that whole scene had felt like the icing on the cake after the victory, the perfect way to liven up the night. At least it had worked as a way to take the attention away from him. All the shipboys, not just him, had been the center of attention the entire time, along with Bismarck and Jean Bart, for obvious reasons. He didn't know what force of will was compelling him not to just storm off to look for some peace and quiet.

Actually, he knew why. He turned to glance to the side, and his eyes met Le Malin's. No word needed to be spoken; they simply saw each other and made for the door, leaving the commotion of the party behind.

There were plenty of people outside as well, but they didn't care. They left the premises, heading into the dark of the harbor toward the docks, where they found an isolated space, illuminated only by the moonlight, and sat on the piers beside each other, their legs dangling over the water.

All of a sudden, Lenin began feeling self-conscious. They hadn't spoken a word since disembarking from the Jean Bart earlier that day. Before that, when all that mess with the journalists happened, they had spent the rest of the time inside Le Malin's cabin.

They had been so lost in their own world they hadn't even realized they had arrived and almost got found out by Jean Bart when she knocked on the door. The battleship was probably convinced that Le Malin had been inside with one of her sisters, not making out with the shipboy.

Point is, after that, they couldn't even say bye to each other that they had been dragged away by their respective relatives, so they hadn't had the chance to talk things out.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him after a few seconds of silence.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her. It wasn't like he had been badly injured during the battle. Sure, his arm had been pretty roughed up after that stunt he had pulled with the Hive-types, but Vestal had patched him up good.

"What do you mean?" He asked her.

"Has anyone caused you trouble since we got back?" She asked him again.

"Oh, no, actually, everyone's been surprisingly welcoming," he replied after realizing what she was talking about. "Tell me the truth. Was that your idea?"

"Yes, it was," Le Malin stated, a little bit of self-pride in her voice. It was indeed her who had told Jean Bart about his predicament, more precisely how some of their comrades still hadn't forgiven him for what he had done under the Sirens' control—first among everyone, her sister, L'Indomptable. Le Malin didn't just want it all to stop once and for all; she wanted to help him get over it for good. "Hopefully, knowing that you've been officially forgiven will help you sleep more soundly at night," she said. "You were too hung up over that; it wasn't good for you."

He let off a sheepish laugh at that. She was right. He didn't know if it was actually because voice of his knighthood had already begun spreading around the base or if it was because of the stunt he had pulled during the battle against Tower, but all the Iris Orthodoxy Kansen who still held some kind of grudge against him had simply stopped looking at him as if he were a cockroach. Maybe it was both, but if anyone had something to complain about, he could simply say that knighthood was a reward for his bravery.

"Then you don't need to worry. I'm feeling great now," he told her. "Of course, that's not the only reason..." he muttered under his breath.

Needless to say, when Le Malin had asked him—or rather begged him—to stay with her and continue what they were doing inside her cabin, he had nodded so quickly you'd think his neck would have snapped off his head. There was no universe in which he would refuse such an offer.

Everything after that had felt like a blur to him. He had been so high on cloud nine that he could barely remember what happened after they stopped kissing each other's faces off.

Yes, kissing. They hadn't gone any further than that. They had just laid down on her bed and had gone at it like inexperienced teenagers, which was, admittedly, what they were—not counting the whole "personification of ships" stuff—caressing and feeling each other up at most.

He remembered how nice she smelled, how soft she felt under his touch, how cool her lips were on his...

He shook his head vehemently, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. Then he glanced to the side at Le Malin, only to notice that she was also squirming in embarrassment. She must have caught on to what he meant by that.

An awkward silence fell between the two, and Lenin was suddenly made aware of the distance that separated them. They weren't close enough to touch, but if he were to move his hand slightly forward, he'd meet her own resting on the concrete between them.

"Lenin, are you my boyfriend?" She piped up all of a sudden, taking him by surprise with the sudden question.

He spluttered and stammered for a second, until he managed to find his words. "W-well, I sure thought I was... You know, after all that..."

"It's just that we never made it official," she said, fiddling with her hair as she spoke. "I wanted to make sure."

"T-then yes; I'm your boyfriend," he declared, sudden boldness surging from within him.

"Good, because I like you… a lot. I want to tell people you're my boyfriend."

"Um… Do you want me to make an announcement like Emperor just did?" He asked her, almost fearing the answer. Was something like that expected in the Iris Orthodoxy as well? And whom would he even have to ask? Jean Beart? Richelieu? Or, God forbid, Le Malin's sisters?!

"N-no, please; that would be too embarrassing," she said, blushing at the thought. "I don't think I'd be able to take it."

They both let out a chuckle at that, after which silence fell over them once again, but this time it wasn't of the awkward, uncomfortable type.

Lenin took some courage and scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her in. She tensed up under his touch before relaxing and leaning with her head onto his shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

They just stood there, enjoying each other's company in the cool night, completely oblivious to the fact that, further behind them, Le Triomphant and Le Terrible were holding back a raring L'Indomptable, who, teeth clenched and eyes brimming with raging fury, was trying her best to free herself from her sisters' hold to crash into the two's date night.

Everything was right.


Fortune META let out a long sigh. She was standing atop the island on the Jean Bart's flight deck, leaning over the roof's railing as she stared into the distance at the lights of the port's event hall, from where she could hear the faint reverb of music.

Part of her wished she could be there at the party, having fun with the friends she had made at Azur Lane, but she didn't feel much like celebrating, not after what happened to La Gallissonnière META.

Besides, Javelin had told her that Fortune—her own counterpart in this timeline—had come here with the Royal Navy fleet, so it would be better to just stay put.

To prevent being addressed by someone who knew their counterparts and to avoid being found out by the public, the METAs had decided to wait aboard the vessel. They had only come down to take part in their comrade's commemoration, and only after the situation at the docks had calmed down. They had made sure to keep a low profile and returned on board soon after.

Not only that, but after what happened to their comrade because of the memory sharing between Algérie META and her counterpart, none of them were too eager to come out with the risk of meeting their other selves, even if they weren't in any kind of dangerous situation at the moment.

The Commander had promised them to get himself a list of all their counterparts and their postings to prevent another accident like that from happening again. He had also promised them to pay more attention in the future, but no one was blaming him for such an oversight. The man already had enough on his plate, and in hindsight, it should have been their own concern in the first place.

So, there she was, alone, with her other META comrades already gone to bed, waiting for sleep to come get her as she let her mind wander on all those unpleasant thoughts.

"Are you okay, Fortune?" A familiar voice shook her out of her musings, and she turned to the side to see a certain Sardinian destroyer climbing the ladder to the top of the island.

"Carabiniere? What are you doing here? I thought you were at the party," Fortune asked her, surprised to see her.

"Yeah, but it was getting suffocating there," Carabiniere told her. "Too many people buzzing around Sparviero; we decided to call it a night."

"And we decided to go with them!" Javelin piped up, her face peeking from behind Carabiniere as she also climbed up the ladder. One after the other, Ayanami, Shimakaze, Z23, Laffey, and even Unicorn appeared.

"We didn't want to leave you alone, so here we are," Z23 said.

"And we brought snacks," Laffey added, showing the plate in her hand with a varied assortment of food they had taken from the party.

Fortune felt her heart clench with emotion. "Oh, guys… You shouldn't have…" she said, feeling her eyes already welling up with tears.

It was dark, and the lights on the vessel were off, so they set up the small spotlight they had brought with them to illuminate the surroundings, then they sat in a circle and began eating.

They talked about lots of things, enjoying the cool air of the night with the music coming from the party in the background. The other shipgirls tried to keep Fortune off the more depressing thoughts in her mind, and gradually, the cloud of gloom that had settled over the META destroyer began to lift as they kept her engaged in conversation.

"Oh, yeah, listen to this!" Javelin suddenly piped up. "Earlier, Emperor asked for Hermione's hand!" She announced, squealing in delight.

"Huh?! R-really?" Fortune perked up, her eyes glowing. "He proposed in front of everyone?"

"Yes! It was so romantic! He even went to his knee and asked Her Majesty permission to marry her…"

"It didn't go exactly like that," Z23 spoke up. "He didn't propose. He formally asked Queen Elizabeth if he could court Hermione, as per the Royal Navy tradition. It's too soon to speak about marriage."

"It's essentially the same thing," Javelin retorted, pouting. "An official courtship is just a formality. It's always followed by a marriage proposal."

"Even so, I'm so happy to hear that," Fortune said with a fond smile. "He and Hermione have been really kind to me; I'm glad to know they are happy. Now that I think about it, I haven't had a chance to say hi. I would like to congratulate them before we go back."

"Don't worry, you'll have all the time you need," Shimakaze said. "They are coming with us at Azur Lane."

"Actually, I think I overheard them saying that he and Hermione would go to Devonport with Her Majesty," Javelin chimed.

Unicorn perked up at that. "I'm so glad big brother is coming with us," she said, but then a sad glint passed through her eyes. "I was so happy to see you guys, but I'll have to say goodbye to everyone so soon…"

"Don't worry, Unicorn," Laffey said, trying to reassure the purple-haired carrier. "Thanks to Massachusetts, we'll be able to see each other more often from now on."

"You know she's not our chauffeur, right?" Ayanami deadpanned.

Fortune let out a small smile as the conversation kept going, grateful for the effort her friends were putting in for her. Though after a while, she couldn't help but notice that someone was missing.

"Carabiniere, where's Sparviero?" She asked the Sardinian destroyer.

"He's on his way," Carabiniere told her. "He went to find someone."

"Really? Who?"

As if on cue, the voices of two more people coming up from the ladder were heard. One was clearly the shipboy's, while the other was a feminine one Fortune was unfamiliar with.

"Phew, good thing there's a light here," Anzeel huffed as she climbed the ladder. She waved at the group of shipgirls once she stepped onto the roof. "Hello, dearies; hope I'm not intruding."

"Of course not, doctor," Z23 greeted her back with a smile. "You are always welcome."

Sparviero came up behind her from the ladder. He greeted the group and went right to Carabiniere, who was more than happy to lean into him as he sat down next to her.

"Sorry for the wait, everyone, but someone was harder to find than I thought," he said, glancing to the side at Anzeel.

"In my defense, I don't like those kinds of parties, so I always try not to stand out too much," Anzeel retorted.

Fortune blinked as the woman went to sit right next to her, her knees tucked to the side. Everyone was acting like she was supposed to be here, which left her confused; she felt like she was the only one who was being kept out of the loop.

That feeling only increased when Anzeel turned to regard her with a curious expression.

"And you must be one of the METAs… Fortune, right?" She asked her. "Sparviero told me about you; I've been wanting to meet you."

"Who are you?" Fortune inquired in confusion.

Anzeel smiled a soft smile and extended a hand for her to shake. Fortune moved to do the same on instinct.

"Dr. Taylor Anzeel; I'm sure you've heard about me," she said, and Fortune's hand stopped midair.

Her eyes went wide, and her mouth hung half-open. Of course she knew her. She had heard the name multiple times in the conversations between her META comrades and the senior Kansen of Azur Lane; this was the Creator's colleague, the mother of the Kansen, the one who was supposed to cure her and her comrades from their condition.

"We haven't had the chance to speak before because the Commander sent me here to help," Anzeel said, her voice warm and welcoming. "We are going to be spending a lot of time together from now on. I hope we can get along."


AN: And with this, the sixth arc of the story comes to a close.

As I had already announced in chapter 69, since I'm basically caught up with the chapters I had written in advance, I'll be going on a short break to get some time to properly write the outline for the last arc of the story, which, by the way, is going to be much longer than any of the others if things go as expected.

One month, just like last time, basically until New Year, which means it's just going to be like skipping a couple updates, not much.

By the way, today is November 28, which marks two years since I published this story's first chapter on Fanfiction. Yes, today is the story's two-year anniversary—though it's not the same according to AO3, since I started publishing here a few weeks later—but that doesn't matter. I only realized a few days ago that the anniversary was coming up alongside this break, so I decided to post this chapter early to make them line up; I thought it'd be cool.

It almost doesn't feel real, but I've been writing for two years now, and this is the last leg. At this point, we might as well reach and go over the 100-chapter milestone. Not that I'll force myself to write until there, but it's going to be very likely given the recent pace.

In the meantime, allow me to reiterate my thanks once more to all those who've read this far, especially to those who go out of their way to leave comments and feedback. I cannot stress enough how much I appreciate you giving your precious time to this humble endeavor of mine.

And for the last time before the finale, I'd like to request a proper review of the story, particularly about your expectations this time: how do you like how things have turned out, if you were hoping for the story to go in another direction, if it's lived up or not to your expectations, if it's better or worse... Things like that.

Also, remember that I'm always open for clarification on stuff regarding the story, so don't be afraid to ask if something isn't clear; I'd hate to leave people confused about something just because of some oversight on my part or a lack of clarity in my writing.

And that's it for now, everyone. See you in a bit! Fair winds and following seas!

Next Chapter: Back to Business