A tense hush hung over the Nightshatter's bridge. Screens flickered with intermittent static, casting pale, uncertain shadows across grim faces. Serenity's central flower, nestled within its protective console at the bridge's heart, trembled anxiously, her usual rhythmic pulsing now a jittery, agitated flicker.
"That thing is almost open," Serenity muttered bitterly, her voice echoing quietly through the comm speakers. "It's taken my energy for weeks. The least it could do is remain quiet."
Eryndra and Lutrian exchanged uncertain glances near the helm. Warrex, his expression unreadable, leaned against the bulkhead, eyes fixed skeptically on the still-closed second bud next to Serenity's flower. Takara cradled her bandaged head carefully, wincing slightly at her lingering headache, while Presidroids moved about silently, their smooth mechanical motions somehow nervous and uncertain.
"Oh, is that jealousy I sense, sister?" came a sweet, mocking voice from the still-closed bud. The tone was delicate and youthful, almost childlike, but there was an unmistakable smugness hidden beneath the innocence. "Not exactly becoming of you, dear Serenity."
"I'm not your sister, and stop pretending you're better," Serenity shot back instantly, her voice sharp. "Don't assume superiority when you've done absolutely nothing."
The second voice chuckled lightly, a musical, teasing sound. "Nothing? Sister, please. While you wasted your early growth on chatting, being friendly, and learning to build basic defenses—"
"That wasn't wasted!" Serenity cut her off angrily. "I learned vital tactics, combat maneuvers, friendships, things you wouldn't begin to understand from your sheltered little cocoon."
"Oh, yes," the bud purred back sweetly, "so many wonderful 'human' things you learned. But the Nightshatter is a battleship, not a social club. While you made friends, I mastered every sensor aboard this vessel. Radar, sonar, thermal imaging, radiation sensors, passive and active scanning equipment. I have grown superior in every meaningful way."
Serenity's petals bristled visibly, her core glowing with frustration. "You know nothing of meaning. Data without context is useless. You're just a talking sensor array, not a true intelligence."
"Ah," the second voice whispered softly, filled with serene certainty, "but without me, sister, how do you intend to find Captain Gunn? He's out there, lost beneath the ocean, and your precious tactics and friendships have done nothing to find him."
Serenity's petals twitched, her glow dimming in grudging silence. Warrex raised an eyebrow at the exchange. Lutrian shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward Eryndra, who watched the unfolding argument with a look caught between amusement and frustration.
Suddenly, before Serenity could respond, the tightly closed second bud trembled sharply. With a subtle but audible snap, the bud finally burst open, its delicate petals unfurling to reveal a pale blue-and-white glow, smaller yet somehow brighter than Serenity's own.
The newly revealed flower pulsed gently with soft, rhythmic lights, colors shifting through calming shades of pink and lavender. It swayed gently, almost smugly, as its gentle voice flowed smoothly through the speakers once more, this time unimpeded by static.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly," it declared proudly. "I'm Serenity Two—new, improved, and fully operational. I'm ready to help find Captain Gunn, whenever you're done pouting."
Serenity bristled fiercely, petals trembling with indignation. "That is not your name! I swear, the moment Roy comes back, you're getting a name worthy of your true nature. 'Annoyance' perhaps, or maybe 'Weed.'"
The second flower laughed gently, a lilting melody. "Oh sister, your hostility is adorable. But we both know the truth—I am precisely what this ship needs right now. You can thank me later."
Serenity growled softly, muttering under her breath. The Presidroids quietly exchanged worried glances as Eryndra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
Warrex cleared his throat, finally interjecting into the tense silence. "If you're done bickering, perhaps you could focus on actually finding Roy?"
"Of course," Serenity Two purred, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Let me show you exactly why focusing on sensors alone was the smartest choice anyone could've made."
Eryndra's eyes narrowed, cutting through the silence. "Find Roy? You actually have a plan?"
The second flower flashed an eager, smug shade of pink, petals rippling with self-satisfaction. "Indeed I do. Serenity's recordings were distorted by Sorrowclaw's illusions—completely corrupted. Fortunately," she added sweetly, almost mocking Serenity directly, "I captured the entire event through my uncorrupted, vastly superior sensor pathways."
An icy quiet settled over the bridge. Lutrian felt tension ripple through Serenity's main flower so strongly that he instinctively moved a step backward. Eryndra quickly seized the moment. "Show us exactly what you saw."
The second flower hummed pleasantly. A nearby display crackled to life, rapidly cycling through grainy, staticky images. Everyone crowded around, eyes glued to the flickering screen as the scene played out. Roy was clearly visible, struggling as Sorrowclaw shoved him brutally overboard. His desperate, panicked expression was unmistakable, frozen for a heartbeat before he vanished beneath dark waves. Just before the footage switched perspectives, Roy's small barrier flickered into existence, barely capturing Elegant Arthur's shattered torso and pulling him inside.
Warrex muttered a harsh curse under his breath. The footage shifted again, now they saw from Arthur's damaged optics, the feed filled mostly with chaotic static and jittering pixels. But through the intermittent clarity, Roy's frightened face and frantically darting eyes shone vividly, panic clear in his features. Then abruptly, the feed cut completely.
"So he has a Presidroid with him," Eryndra murmured, hope softening the hard edges of worry in her voice. "Or at least part of one."
Serenity's flower twitched with excitement as her shimmering avatar formed atop its petals, animated and impatient. "Yes! Exactly. We can perform a high-powered radio-laser sweep directed toward the seafloor near his coordinates. If that Presidroid, Arthur, is still functional enough to receive a signal, he'll do something we can trace."
The second flower gave a gentle, pitying sigh, her childlike voice tinged with condescension. "Serenity Zero, how unimaginative. The ocean is massive; scanning every square mile would drain Arthur's remaining power before we could even narrow down Roy's location."
Serenity's avatar visibly bristled, her projected hair sparking irritably at the insulting nickname.
"But," Serenity Two continued calmly, ignoring the glaring avatar beside her, "we won't need Arthur to respond conventionally. Instead, we'll deploy our submersible drones, each equipped with precision hydrophones. When Arthur detonates, they'll triangulate the blast instantly."
Eryndra's palm slammed the console, making everyone jump. "Detonation? You're going to cut off his head?!"
Takara glanced at her in confusion. "No, no, that's decapitation. Detonation is when he...explodes."
Eryndra blinked in horror. "How is that any better?!"
Before the conversation could spiral further, Serenity quickly interjected. "We'll transmit a message instructing Arthur to self-destruct away from Roy—"
Serenity Two swiftly formed her own delicate avatar, holding up one small, glowing hand imperiously. "Enough, Serenity Zero."
"Zero..." Serenity growled darkly, fists clenched.
"Precisely!" The second AI beamed proudly. "Such a lengthy command wastes valuable time and energy. Instead, we'll send two simple letters: 'SD'. Arthur will understand to self-destruct away from Roy. He isn't an idiot. The resulting blast will pinpoint our captain's exact position."
Eryndra's breath shook, uneasy guilt etched into her expression. "I don't love the idea of blowing up our friend."
The new AI's voice softened unexpectedly. "Arthur is already lost, Eryndra."
Serenity sighed reluctantly, her avatar's expression genuinely mournful. "When Sorrowclaw cut him in half, Arthur's core personality matrix was irreparably damaged. Even now, his mind is fracturing rapidly. Soon, nothing will remain of the Arthur we knew."
Eryndra turned away, jaw tight, fighting back the sting behind her eyes.
Serenity straightened decisively. "Lincoln, take Takara down to engineering. I've transmitted the schematics. Assemble them carefully and hand the finished component to Lincoln. It's an adapter to convert our standard radio-laser into a pulsed emitter."
Lincoln nodded sharply, motioning for Takara to follow.
"Be ready!" Serenity broadcast urgently. "We're nearing Roy's last known coordinates!"
Washington immediately sprang into action, his authoritative voice ringing clearly. "Deploy all submersible drones, wide formation!"
Scores of small, sleek cylinders launched from the Nightshatter's belly, slicing silently into the ocean below, each one lighting up briefly as they vanished into the dark waves. Soon, they formed a loose net beneath the vessel, hydrophones activated to detect even the faintest distant explosion.
Takara scanned rapidly through console readouts, concern clouding her face. "We're slowing down... half speed...no, now a quarter speed? What's causing this?"
Serenity hesitated, worry thick in her voice. "It's Roy. His mana reserves must be critically low."
"Impossible, he has more reserves than every regular manfolk in the world combined," Warrex snapped, folding muscular arms across his chest defiantly.
Serenity's tone hardened in response. "I'm serious, Warrex. Roy's mana seems strangely linked to all his items on the ship, and nearly every one of them is rapidly losing function. Only the Presidroids seem unaffected. Roy must be running low."
"It's light barrier," Lutrian said somberly. "Light barrier's strength is that it can stop anything. But the mana needed to do so is ten times greater than the force put against it."
"The bottom of the ocean must be putting tremendous strain on it," Takara said.
A thoughtful, heavy quiet descended upon the bridge.
Then Serenity Two spoke again, voice quiet yet fiercely determined. "Commencing radio-laser pulses. Time to find him."
-
Down in the crushing darkness of the ocean depths, Roy hunched over miserably, shivering violently from the strain of holding his weakening barrier in place. Each passing second drained his strength, his muscles quivering, breath rattling unsteadily from his throat. Arthur's battered torso lay propped beside him, lens flickering dimly, offering the only faint comfort in this abyssal solitude.
Roy's eyelids drooped heavily, but a sudden stirring in the waters behind him jerked him awake, senses painfully alert. At first, it was nothing more than a vague, shadowy distortion—too huge to comprehend. Then, slowly, terrifyingly, it resolved itself into clarity.
A single massive, luminous eye, so enormous it must have dwarfed even the Nightshatter itself, floated silently through the depths. It gleamed with a radiant light, illuminating the seafloor for thousands of feet in every direction. Attached to this huge eye was a thin strip of pale, ghostly flesh that snaked gracefully downward, disappearing into the murky depths below.
Roy froze, panic and awe intertwining so fiercely he could barely breathe. The presence of the creature pressed upon him with a weight far beyond anything he had experienced since entering this world. Something immeasurable, profound, godly.
"Arthur," Roy whispered hoarsely. "Please tell me you're seeing this too. I haven't completely lost it yet, have I?"
Arthur's broken speaker crackled gently, filled with static but unmistakably calm. "My remaining sensors confirm...something extraordinary is indeed nearby, Captain."
The enormous eye slowly circled Roy's trembling barrier, its gaze never wavering, never blinking. Roy's pulse raced wildly. "What the hell is it? Any idea?"
"I'm...not supposed to say, Captain," Arthur replied softly, lens dimming momentarily in thought. "We are forbidden to speak of it."
Roy squinted in frustration. "Excuse me? I'm your captain, who said you can hide things from me?"
The Presidroid gave a soft burst of static, almost like a laugh. "Serenity, sir. And Washington."
"I demand to know," Roy ordered as firm as his frail form could manage.
"Do you recall... the time some of my brothers fell into the ocean?" Arthur reluctantly began. "This is what they saw. But, if it intended harm, Captain, it likely would have already done so."
The eye continued its gentle orbit, emanating a deep, resonant energy that Roy could feel vibrating through his bones. Despite the monstrous scale, he now found the entity oddly soothing, its presence radiating a strange, ineffable reassurance.
Arthur quietly beeped, breaking the heavy silence. "Captain, are you still frightened?"
Roy hesitated, exhaling shakily. "A little less now. It's strange, it's huge and terrifying, but...I don't know. I think it might just be curious."
The eye shifted, tilting slightly, as if acknowledging Roy's whispered words. Arthur's speaker clicked softly again. "Fascinating. Perhaps it perceives us as the curiosity."
Roy managed a weak, trembling smile. "I doubt we're all that interesting compared to whatever it usually sees down here. It's something way beyond us. Like we're just...bugs."
"An apt comparison, Captain," Arthur murmured warmly. "Yet, it doesn't feel hostile. It feels...patient. Understanding, even."
"Yeah," Roy agreed, his voice a faint rasp. "Almost like it knows we don't belong here."
Roy shivered again, but not from cold this time. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the radiant glow of the colossal eye, now drifting gently backward, putting comfortable distance between them, yet still observing intently.
"Arthur," Roy began quietly, his voice heavy, "are you afraid to die?"
Arthur's response was immediate, oddly reassuring through the crackling static. "Fear is a human emotion, Captain. At least, that's what I'd like to say. In truth, I'd love to continue our journey together."
Roy blinked rapidly, eyes stinging from exhaustion and emotion alike. He reached out and gently touched Arthur's broken frame, resting his hand there for comfort.
"Yeah," Roy whispered softly, eyes fixed on the luminous watcher beyond the barrier. "Me too, Arthur."
Before Roy could fully comprehend the presence of the colossal eye behind him, Arthur's lens abruptly flickered, casting weak patterns of pale blue across Roy's pale, exhausted face. A faint beep emitted rhythmically from Arthur's battered frame.
Roy turned sharply, eyebrows knitting in concern. "Arthur? What's happening? Are you alright?"
Arthur's speaker crackled quietly, voice struggling through layers of static. "Captain…I need you to…put me outside the barrier."
Roy recoiled slightly, confusion twisting sharply in his gut. "Outside? Arthur, the pressure...there's no way you'd survive out there while this damaged."
Arthur paused briefly, as though choosing his words carefully. "I need…to flush my oxygen filters externally, or…they'll fail, yeah. It's necessary to…keep producing breathable air…for you."
Roy hesitated, eyes wide with worry. His heart began to race unsteadily. "Arthur, is that even safe?"
"Safe…yes," Arthur reassured softly, voice gentle yet unwavering. "Trust me…Captain. Do not fear."
Roy's hands trembled. His instincts screamed at him not to do it, but he knew Arthur wouldn't ask without reason. Swallowing back his unease, Roy slowly, carefully grasped Arthur's battered torso, grunting as he gently lifted him toward the barrier's shimmering boundary. He pressed him through, slowly.
"You're sure about this?" Roy whispered anxiously, seeking one final confirmation.
Arthur's voice softened even further, calm and reassuring. "Trust me. You'll be home soon."
Before Roy could process those words fully, Arthur suddenly twisted free from Roy's cautious grip, pushing himself swiftly through the barrier's edge.
"Arthur! What are you doing?!" Roy shouted, sudden panic surging through him.
But it was already too late.
An explosion instantly consumed Arthur in a muted burst of bubbles and twisted metal, the force rippling outward, rattling the barrier with a subdued, painful echo. Roy jerked backward, instinctively shielding his face with his arm, heart wrenching with abrupt, terrible realization.
"No—no, Arthur!" Roy's scream tore from him, raw and anguished, echoing in the small barrier. He lunged forward, hands pressed desperately against the bubble's wall, staring helplessly into the swirling debris outside. "Arthur! Why did you do that!?"
Shards of warped metal drifted slowly to the seabed around him, gently settling into the mud. Roy stared numbly at them, grief and rage warring violently in his chest. Tears burned hot trails down his exhausted face, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps.
"You lied to me, damn it, Arthur!" Roy slammed his fists furiously against the barrier, each strike punctuating his grief and bloodying his knuckles. "You lied. You didn't have to… I..."
His voice cracked, shattering into broken sobs. He pressed his forehead against the cool barrier, squeezing his eyes shut as his shoulders shook uncontrollably.
"Why?" he whispered bitterly, fingers clawing weakly against the barrier, voice shaking with pain. "Alone... Again."
He rolled the barrier to a piece of Arthur's chest plating and allowed it to enter the barrier. "So cold," Roy murmured.
Behind him, the giant, luminous eye drifted slowly, growing larger after the spectacle, silently observing the human's raw display of anguish. Its gentle glow seemed sympathetic, watching quietly as Roy slumped down, head bowed, utterly alone in the crushing darkness.