The sulfuric green mist felt increasingly dense, choking their lungs and freezing everything in its path. They were all in the middle of the boundless international waters, near the South China Sea-a place that, in her original world, would surely be bustling. Or so Izumo thought.
Indeed, there was not a single island in sight. The closest would be Taiwan and some of the Philippine islands, assuming the geography remained the same.
The destroyers and JS Izumo floated closely together in the absolute darkness of the post-blackout, tossed by the waves of the South China Sea. JS Izumo's (DDH-183) gas turbine engines roared erratically, occasionally sputtering like a heart on the verge of stopping. On its vast flight deck, red emergency lights blinked with an eye-straining rhythm, casting long, dancing shadows against the bridge tower's walls. Her internal energy was disrupted because the shipgirl couldn't concentrate on normalizing it. For the ship was now a slaughterhouse, wet with blood.
Just a few hours ago, they were all still laughing.
Just a few hours ago, Javelin had just poured ramen noodles with Maru's secret broth into five steaming bowls. The rich aroma of the broth flooded JS Izumo's recreation room, mingling with the light chatter that enlivened the night at sea. Ayanami was staring at the high-quality sake bottles gifted by the Kyushu port crew, her red eyes sparkling with curiosity, while Izumo vehemently forbade her, terrified that the ship would sail backward if the demon girl got drunk. Laffey had already finished two bowls and, with her sleepy face, was still asking for extra potato chips. Nimi, as usual, was meticulously calculating the calories of each portion through her smart glasses.
That was only a few hours ago.
And now, they had to fight desperately in nothing but thin sleepwear-clothes completely unsuited to withstand the lethal energy barrage of an interdimensional entity.
One Hour Ago: When Hell Knocked on the Door
Zzzzrrrttt...
The mental interference struck without warning. Amidst the laughter and the warmth of the noodle soup, Izumo suddenly stiffened. The bowl in her hand dropped, its contents spilling across the floor. Her vision suffered a severe glitch-the world around her blinked into blood red, the exact same color as her nightmares about USS Nemesis.
She heard a woman's agonizing cry echoing within her internal neural communication system. A heart-rending wail that reeked of death. Like the scream of someone slowly drowning in the darkest depths of a trench.
"Argh...!" Izumo clutched her head, falling to her knees on the steel floor of the recreation room.
"Izumo-nee!" Javelin cried out, leaping from her chair in a panic.
Then, total darkness descended. JS Izumo's entire electronic system died (blackout). The lights went out. The turbine engines stopped beating. In that absolute darkness, a horrifying laughter flowed from every speaker on the ship-the laughter of USS Nemesis, cold and sadistic, like ice cracking in the dead of night.
The red emergency lights flared to life with an eye-straining rhythm, creating long, dancing shadows against the walls of the bridge tower. And outside the windows, the sea began to churn in a highly abnormal manner.
Present Time: Dance of Blood on the Deck
Before them stood a figure that had no place in this world.
IJN Izumo. The Battleship in her Yokai Kansen form. She towered with a terrifying elegance. Her long, reddish-purple hair was tied in a high ponytail, a pair of small oni horns curving from her forehead. Her eyes were wide open, glowing red, devoid of consciousness, devoid of a soul. Her attire was a cruel irony: a tight white top paired with a black skirt and hotpants, and pitch-black thigh-high stockings. A white haori with flaming red edges fluttered over her shoulders.
Her physical ship form did not float on the ocean; instead, it had fully manifested into a full-scale combat rigging attached to the yokai's body. Two massive triple-barrel gun turrets emitted a dark purple glow, with a pair of giant katanas sheathed on her back and one short katana drawn in her hand, wet with the Silver Fox's blood.
"Defensive formation! Don't let her near the bridge!" Izumo shouted, her voice nearly drowned out by the howling wind of the toxic mist.
Nimi (Z23) was the first to react. Her analytical brain immediately calculated the threat vector. She summoned her cannon rigging into her right hand from the void. In her loose blue sleep shirt, the Iron Blood girl unleashed a barrage of Armor Piercing (AP) shells at the Yokai. The likely fractured ribs in her chest made every breath feel like a knife stab. But what bothered her most was her glasses. The left lens was cracked in a spiderweb pattern, blurring her vision.
However, the AP barrage yielded no results. IJN Izumo merely tilted her body slightly. The large-caliber shells bounced off an invisible corrosive dark purple energy shield surrounding her rigging, sparking mid-air.
"No effect," Nimi muttered in horror. "That purple energy... it's not just offensive, it also creates a passive defense layer! We need a faster attack!"
The Yokai dashed forward. Her speed was illogical for a heavy battleship carrying a giant rigging. She swung her short katana in a single horizontal slash that cleaved the wind.
"Nimi, look out!" Javelin screamed. The girl leapt forward, twirling her electrified spear to create a kinetic energy shield and parry the strike.
CLANK!
The collision produced a shockwave that blasted the air away. Javelin groaned in pain. The monster's strength was absolute. Her spear's shield shattered in a second, and the tip of the yokai's katana slid down unstoppably.
Slaaash!
The blade slashed Javelin's front side, tearing across her shoulder and upper chest. The thin, once cute and comfy fabric was torn open, now stained by a fresh line of gushing blood. Javelin lost her footing; her petite body was thrown backward, slamming hard against the bridge tower wall. She rolled across the rough steel deck, tearing the thigh of her pajamas and exposing excruciatingly painful, purplish bruises. Javelin coughed, spitting blood onto the deck.
Seeing her friend critically injured, Ayanami darted from the shadows. Usually, she was the deadliest shadow-her movements silent, her slashes precise. The Demon Girl moved blindingly fast, attempting to maneuver into the Yokai's blind spot. Her giant sword swung in a lethal circular motion.
However, her movement was hindered by her own sleep yukata, which flapped wildly against the wind. Without a second thought, Ayanami recklessly tore the bottom half of her yukata up to her thighs with her bare hands. The fabric tore away, allowing her slender legs maximum mobility while still wearing her purple shorts. The sash (obi) around her waist loosened and nearly slipped off, causing the upper collar of her yukata to slide down, exposing her smooth shoulder. Her chest heaved as she held her breath.
She lunged again, forcing a close-quarters exchange of blows.
Yokai IJN Izumo twisted her body with terrifying flexibility, parrying Ayanami's greatsword with just the flat of her short katana.
CLANG! BAM! The corrosive vibration from the Yokai's purple energy traveled through the metal of Ayanami's sword, striking the nerves in her hands. The petite girl's hands shook violently; she could feel her fingers growing numb. Her sword clashed repeatedly against the Yokai's steel, throwing off sparks into the dark night.
But on the fifth clash, the blade of Ayanami's greatsword (odachi) cracked right down the middle. Capitalizing on that opening, IJN Izumo delivered a brutal knee strike squarely into Ayanami's stomach.
"Ugh...!" Ayanami spat saliva mixed with blood. Her body was thrown backward, rolling across the deck and coming to a halt after slamming into a damaged steel fixture. She tried to stand, but her hands could no longer lift her sword.
At the same time, the true disaster struck from off the deck.
In the distance, Nemesis's railgun illuminated the mist, firing straight into the hull of USS Laffey's physical ship, which was anchored next to JS Izumo. A massive explosion ensued, nearly obliterating the small destroyer's hull.
In the darkest corner near the bridge tower entrance, Laffey screamed. The sleepy and calm bunny girl widened her eyes as the agony from her ship traveled directly into her Kansen nerves. Her internal organs felt as if they were being crushed by a giant hand. If she left her ship in its physical form, it would sink-and the death of the ship meant her own death.
To save her physical ship from total annihilation, Laffey made a desperate decision. She pulled all of her ship's mass, converting her physical hull entirely into a full rigging that manifested extremely on her petite back.
Bearing the disproportionate weight of the colossal rigging-comprising torpedo tubes, twin-barrel cannons, and grenade launchers-and with blood continuously trickling from the corner of her mouth and her abdomen, Laffey forced herself to stand tall. Her knees trembled, blood dripping from her stomach, leaving a red trail on the steel deck. But she did not run.
"Laffey... will... destroy you!" she muttered softly, her eyes locked on the Yokai. Then she unleashed a full barrage-a simultaneous volley of artillery fire directed at IJN Izumo.
Thick smoke blanketed the deck from the insane explosions. Yet, through the billowing smoke, the Yokai's glowing red eyes pierced the darkness, completely unscathed. IJN Izumo used the launchers on her rigging to dash through the smoke, entirely ignoring the blasts of Laffey's shells. The Yokai appeared right in front of Laffey, raising her giant katana.
But before the blade could swing down, the Yokai slammed the barrel of her massive cannon directly into the bunny girl's chest.
The brutal strike sounded like shattering ribs. Laffey was thrown, slamming into the steel wall of the tower. Her white bunny hoodie pajamas were now entirely red, soaked with the blood she kept coughing up. She lay limp in the most pitiful state, enduring bone-crushing pain, waiting for a safe moment to revert her rigging back into a physical ship, for her human body had reached its absolute limit.
"LAFFEY!" Izumo screamed, her voice cracking with fury.
The Silver Fox advanced to the front line. She had discarded her modern composite bow onto the ruined deck; the weapon was useless at such close range. Blood dripped heavily from her left shoulder and arm, but she didn't care. In its place, she drew her HPLS and ALKA swords from her waist. The ALKA blade glowed a fiery red, while the HPLS hummed softly with its remaining blue energy.
Izumo lunged. Two high-tech swords against a dark purple aura-infused ancient katana. This close-quarters combat unfolded with a ferocity Izumo had never felt before. The Yokai's sword swings were lifeless, yet their accuracy surpassed the most advanced machinery.
Izumo twisted her body, trying to find an opening behind IJN Izumo's short katana strikes. But the Yokai was too fast.
SLASH!
The tip of the Yokai's katana managed to penetrate Izumo's defense, slicing diagonally right across her chest down to her abdomen. The tight tanktop clinging to Izumo's body was torn severely, instantly dyed by a long, bleeding gash. Sweat and blood drenched her pale skin, making her look incredibly fragile yet lethal. Her legs shook, resisting the gravitational pressure from the relentless clash of swords.
Izumo ignored the burning sting in her chest. She darted forward and thrust the ALKA sword straight toward IJN Izumo's heart.
However, the Yokai's reaction defied all logic. She dropped her short katana and caught Izumo's ALKA blade with her bare left hand! Pitch-black blood flowed from the Yokai's palm, hissing as it touched the scorching plasma blade, but she didn't loosen her grip in the slightest. She stared at Izumo with those empty eyes.
The Yokai twisted her wrist, shoving Izumo back with brutal force.
CLANG!!
Izumo was thrown backward until her back slammed hard against the deck's railing. She coughed, fresh blood pouring heavily from the corner of her lips.
The Yokai gave her not a second of respite. IJN Izumo retrieved her short katana, then, with a slow yet menacing motion, merged her two weapons. She raised her giant katana high with both hands, while dark purple energy gathered along its blade, creating a pulsing aura like the heart of a demon. This strike-if unleashed-would cleave JS Izumo's deck and the Silver Fox's body in two.
In the distance, from the bridge of USS Nemesis CV-02 floating in the middle of the sea, Nemesis chuckled softly. Her cold, sadistic voice flowed through the speakers that somehow still functioned on JS Izumo.
"Finish her," Nemesis whispered, issuing a mental command to her yokai puppet. "I want to see the fox's blood drench her own deck."
The muscles beneath IJN Izumo's white top tensed. The blade of her giant katana emitted a blinding purple light, ready to be brought down.
"Laffey... help... Izumo-nee..." a dying Laffey mumbled, trying to crawl forward even though her body was shattered.
Ayanami, who had just risen with her yukata nearly slipping off her shoulders, gripped her cracked sword and prepared for a desperate leap. Javelin, with her dimly flickering spear, pushed herself up on one knee. Nimi, with her shattered glasses, was still calculating desperately, searching for one last miracle.
All of them-critically injured, battered, with their sleepwear torn to shreds-braced for death to protect Izumo. Not a single one of them surrendered.
However, the ocean always has its own plans.
WHOOOOSH!!
The roar of an entirely different engine shattered the night's silence. Not modern jet turbines, but the heavy drone of World War II-era propellers. F6F Hellcat and SBD Dauntless aircraft dove sharply from behind the dark clouds. They didn't fire at IJN Izumo on JS Izumo's deck-a precise tactical calculation to avoid triggering an explosion that would endanger the very ship they meant to protect. Instead, the planes dropped a barrage of depth charges and heavy-caliber fire right onto the sea surface between JS Izumo and USS Nemesis.
BOOOOOOM!!
Pillars of seawater erupted tens of meters high, creating a giant curtain of waves that instantly severed the visual contact between Nemesis and her battle arena.
Nemesis narrowed her eyes, the red flash in her pupils radiating a hint of irritation. "Antique toys from the Eagle Union? How annoying."
Nemesis's ears caught the incredibly faint sound of boots landing on her own stealth flight deck. Right behind her back.
"You were too busy looking down, Demon," a woman's voice-firm, cold, and authoritative-echoed across USS Nemesis's deck.
Nemesis spun around with blazing speed. However, she was a fraction of a second too late. A tall girl in a long black overcoat and a white captain's hat already stood there. Her bluish-silver hair fluttered. USS Enterprise. The Grey Ghost.
Without hesitation, Enterprise twirled her own longbow like a bat and swung it with full force toward Nemesis's head.
CLANG!!
The clash of the two bows created a shockwave that swept away the green mist around them. Nemesis blocked the strike, her eyes widening slightly. She was shocked that someone dared to jump directly onto her hull. Seizing the momentum of that surprise, Enterprise lowered her stance and unleashed a fierce front kick straight into Nemesis's abdomen.
Thud!
"Ugh!" Nemesis grunted softly as Enterprise's boot slammed into her tactical corset. Nemesis's body was dragged backward a few meters. Enterprise stood tall, staring at Nemesis with the eyes of a predator. "Call off your pet from my junior's ship."
Nemesis rubbed the abdominal section of her dress, her cold smile blooming once more. "Oh...? So the Eagle Union's old hero dares to soil my deck?"
Nemesis pressed something on her wrist. Behind her, an R66B Sea Comanche-a pitch-black stealth helicopter with a futuristic design-revved its engine. The helicopter had no skids (lower landing gear) like conventional ones, ensuring its stealth profile was perfect. The internal weapon bay doors on its belly opened, and the long barrels of a Gatling machine gun extended out, aiming straight at Enterprise's body.
The helicopter fired. Enterprise dodged to the side, evading the barrage of live rounds that shredded the steel deck. Nemesis used the distraction to leap backward into the air, just as the helicopter's left side landing wheel deployed from its hull. Nemesis extended a hand and casually hung onto the landing gear.
Realizing her disadvantageous position on an enemy deck, Enterprise executed a reckless improvisation. As the Sea Comanche maneuvered low, Enterprise leaped high. Instead of dodging, she reached out and grabbed onto the thick, still-smoking barrels of the helicopter's Gatling gun!
The helicopter wobbled for a moment, lifting both of them dangling in the air right above the churning sea: Nemesis on the left landing gear, Enterprise on the machine gun barrel. From her extreme position, Enterprise drew her bowstring with one hand, aiming her energy arrow directly at Nemesis's face.
At the exact same time, on the deck of JS Izumo (DDH-183).
The chaos aboard USS Nemesis resonated through Nemesis's telepathic link with IJN Izumo. The kill instruction flowing into the yokai's brain was severed for a fraction of a second.
IJN Izumo, who had already raised her giant katana, froze. Her eyes blinked briefly, her face tilting up to look at Nemesis's ship in the distance, as if intending to leap from the deck to save her master. Simultaneously, the massive cannons on the full rigging attached to the yokai's body swiveled automatically, searching for a new target.
A microscopic opening. A one-second distraction that proved utterly fatal.
"NOW!" Izumo roared.
Izumo's ruby-red right eye flared brightly, ignoring the agonizing pain burning through all her nerves. Channeling her remaining energy into her legs, the Silver Fox dashed forward. Just as IJN Izumo turned her head back, Izumo twisted her body in mid-air and unleashed a full-power roundhouse kick that landed squarely on IJN Izumo's chest.
BAAAAM!!
The kinetic force was absolutely unstoppable. IJN Izumo's body, along with her giant rigging, was hurled backward, her feet dragging off the deck, and she was launched flying far beyond the boundaries of JS Izumo's runway, plummeting into the dark ocean.
However, before IJN Izumo, who landed perfectly on the water, could attempt to jump back onto the deck, shocking reinforcements arrived from the sky. It wasn't just Enterprise's Dauntless planes; joining them were four pointy delta-winged stealth drones that streaked in silently.
Qaher-313 drones.
Izumo widened her eyes. She recognized the shape and tactical formation of those drones, but she knew for a fact they weren't hers. The four foreign Qaher drones collaborated flawlessly with Enterprise's planes, firing manually-guided missiles and smart light bombs that trapped IJN Izumo's yokai form and her giant rigging within pillars of explosive water, preventing the monster from getting back on deck.
Seeing Enterprise still dangling with an arrow pointed at her, and realizing her yokai was pinned down by the mysterious aerial drone assault, Nemesis, hanging from the helicopter wheel, merely smiled calmly.
"It seems you brought friends, Enterprise," Nemesis said, her voice casual like a theatergoer. "That's enough for today."
Suddenly, the steel hull of USS Nemesis CV-02 let out a hydraulic hiss. The giant stealth aircraft carrier, bearing a few scratches on its deck, began to deliberately scuttle itself, diving back into the ocean trench at high speed. The helicopter carrying Nemesis hovered above the water.
"This is just the prologue, Silver Fox. Just the prologue, drill that into your brain," Nemesis's voice echoed through a loud shout carried by the night wind, her tone laced with a sweet, majestic promise of death. "This ocean will slowly chew up your sanity. Enjoy the rest of your voyage... see you in the next hell!!!"
The stealth helicopter pivoted, darting into the dark clouds and vanishing without a radar trace. At the spot where IJN Izumo had fallen, the sulfuric green mist aggressively coiled around the yokai. As the mist explosively evaporated, IJN Izumo seemed to be forcefully pulled away alongside her master.
Silence.
The international waters returned to a chilling silence. Only the sound of waves crashing against JS Izumo's battered steel hull and the groans of the destroyers could be heard.
Now, with the threat gone, Laffey let out a long, trembling exhale. The physical ship of USS Laffey floated beside JS Izumo. From the outside, the ship looked pristine again, as if its damage had been repaired by magic.
However, Kansen logic could not be deceived. The severe hull damage had been transferred and left behind in Laffey's physical body. As soon as her ship was whole again, Laffey let out a stifled scream. She coughed up more blood; the agony from the punctured hull and IJN Izumo's previous heavy blow now fully manifested in her human nervous system. She lay limp, groaning in unbearable suffering.
Izumo discarded the ALKA sword she was holding, detached the HPLS sword and both sheaths onto the deck floor, ran over, and immediately knelt, cradling the violently shivering bunny girl. Her right hand pressed against the girl's chest. "Hold on, Laffey... you can't give up!"
Izumo turned to the other destroyers. "I'm taking her to my room right now! Maru-san equipped me with medical supplies and medicine; at least it can stabilize her externally. I'll let her rest there. This wound... will take time to heal even if she can regenerate on her own."
Out there, Enterprise released her grip on the enemy helicopter's barrel and dropped elegantly onto the sea surface. The helicopter suddenly plummeted, having lost connection with its shipgirl. The physical ship of USS Enterprise (CV-6) emerged, parting the remaining mist on the horizon. The propeller planes in the air slowly landed and faded into Wisdom Cube energy, merging back into her.
Enterprise walked on water toward JS Izumo's hull, leaped high, and landed on the ruined deck. She watched the small, panicked evacuation with empathetic eyes.
"You were right on time, Grey Ghost," Izumo panted while carefully adjusting Laffey's position in her arms. "Thank you... but those flying objects that just attacked... I don't think they're mine."
Enterprise offered a faint smile, her eyes gazing straight into the sea mist in the distance. "I came back here after escorting you. I was at the border then. Someone who wanted to meet you departed early and met up with Nagato and me."
Izumo's fox ears perked up. "Escorting... someone?"
"Someone very special," Enterprise continued with a tone full of mystery. "Someone who talked about being dragged into another maritime dimension. A ship that ran out of energy and was drifting helplessly. She docked at the main Azur Lane base. We were suspicious of her, but your teammate Sweet Jolly ran up to me when some destroyers were readying their rigging cannons in front of that ship. She seemed to recognize the ship. And she convinced me to help the shipgirl who looked to be in pain aboard it. She said she was traveling around looking for her old teammate. And after she mentioned her teammate's characteristics... we at Azur Lane instantly knew who she was looking for."
Izumo's eyes widened. Her heart raced dozens of times faster. The words "old teammate" immediately triggered a very potent memory from her past life as Angga-a man who played a naval war game alongside someone who always faithfully used an amphibious assault ship with a specific name in that game.
On the deck, the four foreign Qaher-313 drones landed slowly, parking in their designated positions.
And from behind the remnants of the smoke mist in the distance, upon the calm post-storm night sea, a ship silhouette emerged-one whose shape arguably existed only in games and real-world blueprints. An amphibious assault ship design, its long straight deck clearly visible, though its hull was shorter than a light aircraft carrier. With a rear door that could be opened, perhaps a bay for sea drones?
However, what made Izumo's breath hitch wasn't its shape, but its color. The giant hull radiated a teal green camouflage paint-a distinct custom skin she knew very, very well from her old game lobbies.
In front of the ship's hull, a girl's silhouette gradually became visible. Just from the shadow, Izumo could see the distinct design of a combat qipao fluttering in the sea breeze. She wasn't from the Azur Lane faction, nor from the Sakura Empire, nor the Eagle Union. She was a player anomaly entity, exactly like Izumo.
The Wind Explorer
"Harbin...?" Izumo whispered almost inaudibly, her voice trembling as she held back a surge of emotion. She immediately recalled the name from a mere glance at the ship's paint job. The name surfaced from a buried memory. Momentarily forgetting the pain ravaging her body, her ruby-red right eye, now welling with tears, stared at the slowly approaching silhouette. "You... you came."
This long, blood-filled night had in fact just opened a dawn chapter Izumo had never imagined. Because in this cruel ocean, she was no longer alone.
The Commander's Residue and the Cracked Steel Resolve
(Before entering the South China Sea - Post Battle)
Dawn had yet to fully break when the sky above the South China Sea began to change color. From pitch black grading into deep purple, then slowly swept away by a pale orange glow creeping from the eastern horizon. The light touched the sea surface, which was now calm-too calm, as if the ocean itself was still stunned by the brutality that had just occurred.
On the flight deck of JS Izumo (DDH-183), which was riddled with holes, stained with blood, and littered with metal shrapnel, five shipgirls battled a fatigue that almost completely paralyzed them. The morning breeze blew gently, carrying the salty scent of the sea mixed with the smell of burnt iron and something sharper-the smell of drying blood.
In the distance, the silhouette of the teal green amphibious assault ship, resembling a light aircraft carrier, was now clearer on the horizon, parting the remaining mist with futuristic elegance. However, for the Silver Fox, her curiosity about the mysterious ship had to be quelled by the screams of her conscience. In her arms, Laffey's petite body felt increasingly light, while the weight of the blood soaking Izumo's arm felt so heavy.
Izumo stared at the teal green silhouette once more, her ruby-red right eye trembling. Wait for me just a moment, she whispered in her heart.
She turned around, ignoring the stinging pain in her shoulder infected by Nemesis's purple energy. "Ayanami, Javelin, Nimi! Stay on the deck with Enterprise! I need to take Laffey inside!" Izumo commanded in a hoarse yet undeniable tone. She walked swiftly toward the bridge tower door.
Inside JS Izumo's Hull - Tending Wounds in Silence
The automatic sliding door of Izumo's private quarters hissed open. The room looked highly modern yet minimalist, illuminated by warm LED lights that turned on automatically. Izumo laid Laffey on her white bed with extreme care, as if the slightest rough movement would shatter the bunny girl to pieces.
Laffey's breaths were incredibly shallow. Izumo immediately moved to the emergency medical supply cabinet from Maru's container, which she had already relocated to her room. Her still-trembling hands went to work. She had to clean this wound right now.
With meticulous fingers, Izumo began removing Laffey's ruined sleepwear. The white bunny hoodie, once soft, now felt coarse due to dried blood. Izumo had to cut away several sections of fabric sticking to the open wound on Laffey's stomach-the aftermath of the lethal energy feedback that tore her ship's hull. One by one, the pieces of clothing were removed, leaving Laffey in her most vulnerable state.
Seeing the petite body covered in blue-purple bruises and horrifying lacerations, Izumo felt her heart being slashed. She took a small towel, dipping it into a basin of warm water mixed with a special antiseptic solution from the Kyushu base. She began wiping Laffey's body, cleaning the thick red stains off her best friend's pale skin. Every touch was performed with profound affection and extra caution.
"Hold on, Laffey... your energy will slowly return," Izumo murmured, stroking Laffey's forehead, which was slick with cold sweat.
After all the blood and dirt were cleared, Izumo applied ointment to the wounds and bandaged Laffey's stomach with a hemostatic wrap. She then took one of her own oversized black t-shirts, still brand new and smelling of cherry blossoms-one of the souvenirs from Maru. Izumo dressed Laffey in the shirt. The shirt looked massive on the bunny girl's body, covering her down to mid-thigh, providing a much-needed sense of warmth and security. She tucked Laffey in up to her chest. She could feel Laffey's body beginning to warm up as regeneration kicked in.
On the Flight Deck - Dialogue of the Warriors
Outside, the cold night sea wind gradually turned into a cool morning breeze. The classic aircraft carrier USS Enterprise had now pulled up parallel to JS Izumo.
The sight was utterly tragic. DDH-183's flight deck, usually smooth, was now riddled with small craters and energy sword slash marks. The few remaining MiG-27K jets and Izumo's sole surviving AW249 Fenice helicopter executed extremely hard short landings, their landing gears sparking as they hit the uneven surface. As soon as they entered the lift elevator and descended into the dimly lit hangar, the metal bodies of the units glowed with blue light. They no longer held physical forms; they fractured into Wisdom Cube energy particles that faded, merging back into Izumo's soul core to recover.
Javelin sat slumped against the deck railing, panting heavily. The slash wound on her front ruined her pajamas and smeared them with blood, exposing scratch marks that were beginning to turn blue. Next to her, Nimi took off her shattered glasses. Without them, her blue eyes looked weary, yet she wiped her soot-stained face while clutching her injured ribs.
"Later... I'll replace my glasses later," the Iron Blood girl muttered faintly.
Ayanami's yukata was now a mess, slipping downward due to the battle, nearly falling off to reveal her chest, which was wrapped in bandages covering the inner sides of her body; fortunately, the loosened sash (obi) was still strong enough to keep the yukata clinging to her frame. She laid her body down on the cold steel deck, leaving her bisected greatsword lying haphazardly beside her. She instantly fell fast asleep from absolute exhaustion, her breathing heavy and steady.
Enterprise stood in the center of them, her gray overcoat fluttering. Her icy blue eyes surveyed the damage on JS Izumo, then shifted to the battered destroyers. A flicker of doubt crossed her resolute face.
"This ocean..." Enterprise began in a low voice, "...turns out to be far crueler than I imagined for you all. Izumo forced this exploration mission, but look at the results. You haven't even covered a third of the journey, and you were nearly sunk by a single dark entity. I... doubt if this was a wise decision."
Javelin looked up, her wet eyes meeting Enterprise's. "This... this isn't about safety, Senior Enterprise," she said with labored breath, trying to sit up straight despite the sting in her shoulder. "This is about Izumo-nee's resolve. She wants to ensure this ocean is safe for all of us, so that there will be no more tragic events like Juneau."
Javelin forced a wide smile on her soot-covered face. "We ourselves knew the risks from the moment we left the base. Our defenses might not be as strong as the massive modern ships we've seen. But to us... protecting Izumo-nee is an absolute duty. She is family. Without her, perhaps we'd just be a ship without a heading."
Nimi, leaning back, chimed in with her weak, analytical tone. "Statistically, our probability of surviving that battle was less than thirty percent. But we survived. Because Izumo-nee didn't give up on us. As long as she doesn't give up, we will never give up either."
Enterprise fell silent. She looked at Ayanami snoring softly beside her ruined sword, Javelin smiling genuinely through her wounds, and Nimi standing firm with her shattered glasses. This resolve... a resolve that transcended military logic. Enterprise smiled faintly, a smile of deep respect from the bottom of her heart. "You truly are extraordinary girls."
"I'm heading back to my ship. That silhouette from the East will arrive soon," Enterprise said softly. "You all get some rest here."
Back in Izumo's Quarters, A Conversation of Souls
Inside the quiet room, Laffey's eyelids slowly fluttered open. The first thing she saw was Izumo's face, hovering very close. The only open eye, Izumo's ruby-red right eye, radiated profound worry, even though the Silver Fox's own face was marred with scratches and bloodstains, clad in a torn black tanktop.
"Laffey... you're awake? How do you feel?" Izumo asked gently.
Laffey didn't answer immediately. She felt the comfort of the large black t-shirt she was wearing. Even though her body still ached terribly, Izumo's presence provided an irreplaceable sense of safety.
Laffey reached out her trembling small hand, slowly touching Izumo's cheek. Her fingers gently brushed a scratch mark below Izumo's right eye.
"Thank you... Izumo-nee... for saving Laffey," Laffey whispered, her voice hoarse. "Izumo-nee's face... is still pretty... even wounded like this."
Izumo was stunned, tears instantly welling in her ruby-red eye. Those words weren't merely a compliment, but a sincere confession from a best friend who had risked her life for her.
However, Laffey continued in a more serious tone, her sleepy red eyes staring deeply into Izumo's. "Izumo-nee... in our home dimension... before the Sirens relocated our base and tore everything apart... there was someone who always watched over us. A Commander," Laffey said softly. "Laffey... feels like she senses that aura from you. Cold on the outside, but very warm and protective on the inside. An aura that made us feel... we would always win if we were with you."
Izumo froze. Her heart pounded fiercely, her breath hitching in her throat. Could it be true that this version of Azur Lane, which had been dragged into this dimension alongside her, consisted of the very Kansen from the game she used to play, from her own game account?
And as it turned out, that emotional bond had not been lost. The residual affection of a player who loved and cared for his characters had traversed across dimensions, manifesting into a leadership aura instinctively felt by Laffey. Unbeknownst to Izumo, out on the deck, Javelin, Nimi, and Ayanami were also feeling that same internal pull following the battle against the yokai earlier. Their absolute trust in Izumo was no longer just respect for a fleet senior, but an ancient spiritual bond between the "Creations" and their "Creator."
They had yet to realize that the resilient silver fox before them was the soul of the human who once built and nurtured them in the game world.
"Sleep tight, Laffey," Izumo whispered, holding the small hand.
Suddenly, a gentle vibration was felt throughout JS Izumo's hull. The sound of massive ship thrusters approaching from outside grew louder.
Izumo stood up, slowly letting go of Laffey's hand. "Wait here, Laffey. I need to meet an old 'teammate'."
Laffey watched Izumo's retreating back, then fell fast asleep.
The morning sunlight began to bathe the teal green amphibious assault ship, CN Type 07X, which was now docking gracefully alongside JS Izumo. Atop the ruined deck, the silhouette of the prototype shipgirl stood on the flight deck, her figure becoming increasingly clear.
The Wind Explorer had arrived.
Izumo stepped out of her room, one hand clutching her injured ribs, ready to face a new chapter that might just uncover the greatest secret as to why they-players from the real world or these ships-had been dragged into this cruel, foreign ocean.
Thousands of Kilometers Away, a Wounded Pier and an Oath Upon the Ruins
The sea breeze blew softly from the east, passing the southernmost islands of Japan toward the largest continent. Usually, the sea brought a refreshing scent of salt, but this breeze carried bitterness and bad news. The sun was still reluctant to rise; only the dawn could be seen breaking in the coastal sky, radiating a golden-orange hue-a color that should have been warming-now acting merely as a silent witness to the devastation stretching as far as the eye could see.
The Main Naval Base of China, which once stood majestically as the unrivaled pride on the eastern shores of this parallel world, was now nothing more than a smoldering graveyard of steel. The broken giant cranes bowed despondently, kissing the oil-polluted seawater. The neatly arranged logistics warehouses were now charred concrete ruins. Black smoke was no longer visible, though a few days prior it had still billowed from several distant facilities, mingling with cement dust and the lung-piercing stench of burning aviation fuel. The emergency sirens were no longer heard, though they occasionally howled hoarsely; most of the electrical systems had been restored. This destruction was not merely a loss of military infrastructure; it was an absolute humiliation that slapped them right in the face in their own home.
The main pier, the docking point for deadly modern warships, was shattered to pieces. Several destroyers and frigates were moored undergoing some repairs. Human crews worked busily under emergency command, in the midst of restoring the port's pier conditions. Everyone moved with blank faces, weary eyes, and incredibly heavy steps. They hadn't just lost a base. They had lost a pride that had, until now, remained untouched.
At the most ruined end of the pier, where asphalt and concrete had cracked to reveal twisted iron bones, sat a shipgirl.
She sat alone on a massive concrete slab that used to be the foundation of a watchtower. Her proud red-and-black military uniform was now in a deplorable state. The tight fabric that usually perfectly wrapped her curves was torn in several strategic areas, a result of joining the port crew in repairing the pier. The top buttons of her shirt were undone, her clothes soaked in sweat and soiled with dust. Her thighs were now decorated with minor scratch wounds and soot stains. Her long black hair, always gleaming and elegantly styled, was now disheveled, left to flutter wildly and cover parts of her face whenever the wind blew. It had been several days, perhaps over a week, since Japan launched the sudden sabotage mission on the base.
She was Sichuan. The second strongest aircraft carrier in the Naval fleet, the ruler of the Eastern skies.
The girl who had once haughtily watched the Silver Fox from Japan destroy her J-10 jets in a dogfight over the skies of Yokohama. The girl who had once belittled Fujian for her failure. Now, she sat upon the ruins of her own home, staring blankly toward the southern sea. The same sea that was now the silent witness to the most humiliating defeat in their fleet's history.
The sea surface before her was quite calm, reflecting the rising sunlight like beautiful shattered glass. Too beautiful for the sickening sight that surrounded her, a sight not yet fully recovered. It dealt her a mental blow. Sichuan's face looked very calm-too calm. No tears fell, no hysterical screams, no clenched fists pounding the earth. Only a cold silence. But beneath that frozen composure, behind her pair of black eyes as dark as the Mariana Trench, something ferocious was churning, like a dragon holding back its fiery breath.
Vengeance.
She didn't say it aloud. The vengeance flowed with her bloodstream, slipping into every heavy intake of breath, poisoning every second she spent staring at the Silver Fox's escape route.
The sound of approaching footsteps was heard from behind. High-heeled military boots marched elegantly, carefully avoiding broken concrete and snapped high-voltage cables. Sichuan didn't turn around. She recognized the rhythm of those steps perfectly.
"You've been sitting here since the roosters started crowing."
The voice was heavy, authoritative, yet laced with gentleness-the voice of a leader who had learned to swallow her own emotions. Fujian (CV-18), the fleet's newest, state-of-the-art aircraft carrier, stopped right beside Sichuan. Her dark green hair, tied in a ponytail, swayed gently in the wind. Her military uniform was also dusted with dirt, but she kept it neat. In her hands, Fujian carried a tray lined with a simple white cloth. On it sat two steaming cups of hot coffee and two pieces of toast wrapped in wax paper.
Fujian squatted slowly with a grace undiminished by the situation, offering one cup-slightly cracked at its base-and a piece of bread toward Sichuan.
"The port crew chefs still managed to build and run their kitchen despite the limited space. Their emergency tent is still standing, it's been over a week, and they used the remaining supplies to make this," Fujian said softly. "They said you haven't eaten or rested since last night. Drink. This isn't our best bread, but at least it's still warm."
Sichuan didn't respond immediately. Her eyes remained glued to the horizon. However, slowly, her right hand, clad in a half-finger tactical glove, reached out. Her fingertips brushed lightly against Fujian's as she accepted the coffee cup. The warmth of the ceramic touched Sichuan's cold skin, softening her expression slightly.
"Thank you, Fujian," Sichuan muttered, her voice hoarse and raspy, as if her throat were filled with ash. She took a sip of the black coffee. Its bitterness stung her tongue, a bitterness perfectly suited to the reality she was digesting.
Fujian sat beside her, letting their thighs touch lightly. The two strongest remaining aircraft carriers, sitting together on the ruins of their pride. Fujian took a small bite of her bread, while Sichuan merely held her coffee. Sichuan's hands trembled slightly-not from the freezing chill of the dawn wind, but from the surge of adrenaline she couldn't channel out.
"I've received an update medical report on the injured shipgirls," Fujian opened the conversation, shattering the suffocating silence. Her voice was calm, like an older sister trying to soothe an angry younger sibling. "About Shandong. And about Nanchang."
Sichuan didn't answer, but her jaw tightened.
"They say Shandong won't be able to move for months. The tendons in her thigh and shoulder were severed by the Japanese Silver Fox's sword strikes. And Nanchang..." Fujian stared at the ocean with a furrowed brow, "...this is what's giving high command a headache. Nanchang wasn't injured by Izumo, but by the frigate JS Mogami. Several of our port crew witnessed four mysterious girls holding off the 053s and 054s."
Sichuan glanced from the corner of her eye. "Little girls?"
"The intelligence and eyewitness reports from our own crew still sound absurd," Fujian sighed, her tone sending shivers down the spine. "Yesterday, we witnessed firsthand those four little girls wielding bizarre weapons. A glowing spear, twin aerial cannons, a giant greatsword... our fleet tried to attack that dying frigate but was blocked by destroyers, and then again.... Our shipgirls, the Type 053s and 054s, were fought in a manner that defies modern physics. We have absolutely no database regarding their identities or technology."
Sichuan looked straight ahead again. "So? What does it matter if they have strange weapons? The silver fox that Shandong says is named Izumo also has strange powers. Anomalous shipgirls."
"It's not just that, Sichuan. Our intelligence has just provided the latest report on Izumo's escape route to the south," Fujian continued, her voice trembling slightly this time. "Our satellites picked up energy anomalies at the border of Japanese waters. Izumo was escorted all the way to the international maritime border by two ships... that shouldn't exist in this world anymore."
Sichuan furrowed her brow, turning her head completely to stare at Fujian. "What do you mean?"
"They are legendary ships from the World War II era," Fujian said slowly, meeting Sichuan's black eyes. "One battleship flying the flag of the Imperial Japanese Navy, and one aircraft carrier flying the United States flag. Silhouette and radar analysis concludes they are IJN Nagato and USS Enterprise (CV-6)."
The coffee cup in Sichuan's hand nearly slipped. Her eyes went wide. "That's impossible! Don't joke around at a time like this, Fujian. History clearly records that Nagato has been a radioactive wreck at the bottom of the sea at Bikini Atoll, targeted for execution since the nuclear test operations! And Enterprise CV-6... that ship was dismantled decades ago, its lightweight steel scrap even melted down and incorporated into the new American nuclear carriers, and her shipgirl retired and passed away shortly after the ship was fully decommissioned! How is it possible those ghosts sailed to escort Izumo?! I even just remembered Japan lost their best aircraft carrier, JS Izumo, and now another Izumo appears. What exactly is going on???"
"That's what has central command confused and terrified out of their wits," Fujian crushed the wax paper wrapping her bread. "We are dealing with something beyond the comprehension of our Navy. Ghosts from the past that somehow resurrected and sided with Japan."
Sichuan fell silent. Her brain processed the insane information. But slowly, the shock on her face faded. Her left hand moved down to the side of the concrete block she was sitting on. Her fingers felt around, then gripped a solid concrete brick that had detached from its original structure.
"I don't care," Sichuan hissed. Her voice wasn't loud; she wasn't shouting. But every syllable that left her lips was as sharp as a freshly honed knife blade. "I don't care if she's escorted by ghosts from Bikini Atoll or specters from America. I want my revenge. I want that Silver Fox to feel what we're feeling right now. I want her to see Shandong, who can't even stand... and realize that all of this will be paid for with her life."
CRACK!
A loud cracking sound split the air. The solid concrete brick in Sichuan's hand didn't just break in two-the hard object shattered to pieces within her grasp, crushed until it turned into coarse sand and gravel. Cement dust blew away in the wind. Sichuan opened her hand, letting the fragments fall back into the sea. The skin of her palm was torn and scratched by the sharp edges of the brick, dripping fresh blood, but she didn't wince in the slightest. She relished the pain.
Fujian, observing the horrifying sight, could only heave a long sigh. She stared intensely at Sichuan-realizing that beneath that false calm, Sichuan was an active volcano ready to spew scalding lava.
"So... you still want to go after her?" Fujian asked. "Chase the Silver Fox who is now breaching the international waters to the south?"
"Yes. I'm going to hunt her down," Sichuan replied coldly. "I'm bringing Nanchang."
Fujian raised her eyebrows slightly. "Nanchang? She's still critically injured, Sichuan. The medical team said she struggles immensely just to walk across the deck of her own ship."
Sichuan scoffed softly, a cold grin-the smile of an executioner-forming on her reddish lips. "She is injured, yes. She might not be able to agilely ski across the water anymore. But never forget who Nanchang truly is, Fujian."
Sichuan leaned her body forward. "She is a Type 055. Her status on paper might be a destroyer, but her hull size and destructive power are purely the strength of a cruiser. Nanchang doesn't need her legs to annihilate the enemy. She only needs to link her shipgirl form to the bridge, lock onto the coordinates with her radar, and let her one hundred and twelve VLS missile cells do the talking. As long as her ship can sail... Nanchang is a god of death. And believe me, the vengeance in Nanchang's heart is far larger than the tear in her leg."
Fujian fell silent, considering it. Sichuan was right. A shipgirl didn't have to jump into close-quarters combat to be lethal.
"Then, what about Shandong?" Fujian asked.
"Shandong will stay here. She will guard the base... or whatever is left of this place," Sichuan replied.
Fujian looked down. She took a deep breath. "Sichuan... if you are truly determined to brave the southern waters to hunt them down... I suggest you take our newest aircraft."
Sichuan turned her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Newest aircraft?"
"The one still under classified research," Fujian looked at Sichuan with utmost seriousness. "J-36. The prototype sixth-generation fighter jet."
Sichuan's eyes widened. Her composure was truly shaken by shock. Her mouth hung slightly open. "Wait, Fujian! Are you crazy? That iron bird was designed specifically for you! Its design is meant to be launched using the electromagnetic catapult (EMALS) which only exists on your flat flight deck. How am I supposed to launch it from my short ski-jump deck?!"
Fujian offered a faint smile-a smile radiating the resolve of an older sister willing to make a sacrifice. "I am the one who decided to give it to you. You are the one going on the pursuit. I... will stay here. Lead the base repairs. And take care of Shandong."
"But Fujian, the wingspan-"
"It's fine," Fujian cut in with a reassuring technical tone. "I've ordered our lead research technician to work through the night. There will be radical adjustments to its wing-folding mechanism so the J-36's airframe can fit into your narrower lift elevator and bow hangar."
Fujian set down her coffee cup and touched Sichuan's exposed shoulder. "Furthermore, they will perform an output performance upgrade on its turbofan engines. The engine is being modified to produce extreme thrust over a short distance, allowing the J-36 to take off from your deck without the need for catapult assistance."
Sichuan stared at Fujian in disbelief. Altering the design of a sixth-generation aircraft in such a short time and forcing it to operate outside its original specifications was a lethal technical gamble.
Sichuan exhaled harshly, combing her black hair back with her slightly bloodied fingers. A small smirk, somewhere between amused and cynical, appeared on her face.
"Cramming an engine with insane thrust into a prototype with forcefully modified wings..." Sichuan muttered. "Fujian... I just hope the damn plane doesn't stall and end up crashing into my own command tower when I try to launch it."
Fujian laughed softly, an elegant laugh that carried a subtle threat. "If that plane crashes into your command tower... I promise to behead our lead research technician."
They stared at each other, and for the first time that day, the tension between them thawed slightly. Fujian leaned closer, reached into her uniform pocket, and pulled out a small red star-shaped badge. She took Sichuan's hand, opened her scratched palm, and placed the badge there.
"This is my lucky badge," Fujian whispered. "Come back whole. Come back with a victory."
Sichuan stood up. Her movements were full of determination. Her torn skirt fluttered defiantly in the sea breeze. She looked toward the south, her chest swelling with a newly reignited pride.
"I will bring it home, Fujian. The international waters will not be her escape route," Sichuan's voice flowed coldly. "That ocean... will be her grave."
In the Research Hangar: The Stealth Awaits
That night, Sichuan walked alone down the underground corridor connecting the pier area to the classified research facility hangar. This concrete corridor was one of the few base structures to survive intact. The neon lights on the ceiling flickered softly, illuminating the heavy steps of Sichuan's boots echoing against the tunnel walls. The atmosphere was incredibly quiet, a stark contrast to the outside.
At the end of the corridor, a giant steel door with a biometric sensor blocked the way. Sichuan pressed her palm against it. The door hissed open, revealing a colossal, freezing-cold hangar room.
In the center of the room stood a metal monster that made Sichuan's breath catch.
J-36.
The prototype fighter jet stood tall, surrounded by scaffolding and diagnostic cables. Its design surpassed anything Sichuan had ever seen-smooth delta wings blending seamlessly with the fuselage, creating a silhouette as sharp as an obsidian knife. Its radar-absorbent matte black paint swallowed the neon light in the room, making it look like a ghost possessing physical form. All of its weaponry was lethally concealed within its internal weapon bay in its belly.
Several exhausted technicians were working beneath its wings, adjusting the new hydraulic wing-folding mechanisms so this giant bird could be forced into the lift elevators of Sichuan's hull. About 30 aircraft were being prepared. Armed with heavy payload.
Sichuan stepped closer. She took off her glove and touched the ice-cold nose of the aircraft. A sensation of electrical vibration traveled to her fingertips, as if this monster were alive and impatient to taste blood.
You were supposed to belong to Fujian, Sichuan thought as she caressed the smooth metal. But fate chose you to be my wings of vengeance.
Fujian was right. This prototype had never tasted combat. The combination of forcefully modified wings and extreme engine thrust was a recipe for an aerodynamic disaster. But Sichuan didn't care. She closed her eyes, letting the wild imagination of the slaughter fill her head. She pictured the Silver Fox's head, successfully decapitated and held aloft by her.
"Sichuan..."
Sichuan opened her eyes and turned her head. From the hangar doors, Nanchang stood with the aid of two crutches under her armpits. The girl's face was pale, her legs thickly bandaged from her thighs down to her ankles. She seemed to struggle immensely just to stand, yet her eyes projected the exact same ferocity as Sichuan's.
"My ship is finished being repaired for a long voyage," Nanchang said, her voice shaking from the pain, yet her lips curling into a demonic smile. "When do we depart?"
Sichuan turned around completely, crossing her arms under her chest. She returned Nanchang's smile with an equally terrifying grin.
The wheel of fate had spun madly. Far in the south, the Silver Fox might be tending to her wounds, believing her worst night was over. But here, from behind the ruins of a Chinese military base, two goddesses of war were preparing to unleash the next generation of hell.
"Soon, Nanchang," Sichuan whispered, her voice echoing in the silent hangar. "As soon as these stealth wings are ready... we will hunt that fox."
Sunrise Over Two Phantoms
The light of dawn slowly swept away the remnants of darkness in the South China Sea, lifting the veil of thin morning mist. In the middle of the once-again peaceful ocean, the giant steel hull of JS Izumo (DDH-183) floated gently, bearing the scars of the previous night's battle.
Izumo stood, leaning with great difficulty against the steel wall of the command tower that loomed on the starboard side of her flight deck. The Silver Fox's breath was still heavy. Cold sweat mixed with uncleansed blood stained her pale face. Her severely torn black tactical tanktop let the sea breeze sweep across her heavily scratched skin. Yet, the pain in her body seemed to evaporate entirely, replaced by a racing heartbeat. Her only open eye, that ruby-red right eye, stared straight out at the ocean on the port side of her ship.
There, parting the waves with silent, futuristic elegance, the CN Type 07X amphibious assault ship pulled up close. Izumo narrowed her eyes. The silhouette of the girl floating in front of the ship's hull was now crystal clear under the shower of the morning sun rising from the east.
She was the figure of a mature woman radiating lethal elegance. Her long black hair fluttered wildly in the sea breeze, with a few fiery red strands tucked among the dark locks. She wore a modified combat qipao in teal green that perfectly wrapped her curves, its high slits exposing a pair of long legs clad in asymmetrical stockings. A thick, fur-lined coat graded in white and teal hung elegantly over her shoulders. In her hand, she gripped a staff that resembled an ancient tactical folding umbrella.
Izumo swallowed hard. To be honest, the shipgirl's face and physical form were entirely alien to her. In her original game world, that experimental ship didn't even have an official playable character model like the other Kansen. But for a moment, she thought about how she herself was a manifestation of an aircraft carrier. Her form was the imagination of herself from her previous life.
The four delta-winged Qaher-313 drones parked on the ship's deck. The sky-and-cloud patterned teal green camouflage paint coating the entire giant hull of the ship awakened something continuously spinning in her head.
It wasn't just a ship. It was a custom skin. An unwritten identification mark among millions of players.
Memories from Izumo's life as Angga, a 35-year-old man in front of his phone screen, flashed rapidly like a rewinding cassette.
He remembered that match. An utterly brutal match. He and his teammate-the player who always used the CN Type 07X with that teal green paint-were surrounded. Their radars blinked red. In those critical seconds, the teal green ship sacrificed its position, drawing enemy fire to protect Izumo. He still remembered the visuals on his screen vividly: how the hull of the CN 07X was struck squarely by precision bombs from an enemy CN Type 004's bomber squadron, creating a blaze that engulfed the deck. Before the ship could recover, a desperate enemy destroyer executed a ramming maneuver-crashing at full speed into the hull of the teal ship until both exploded.
The notification on the game screen showed his teammate sinking. Leaving Izumo alone in a life-or-death one-on-one (1v1) battle against the Type 004 aircraft carrier in the virtual ocean. And now, the exact same ship, with the exact same paint job, and the exact same drones... appeared before her in flesh and steel. Breathing, alive, having crossed dimensions to look for her. Wait, looking for her?
Its flight deck was much lower compared to the deck of JS Izumo's hull, which was an LPD/DDH (Landing Platform Dock / Destroyer Helicopter) type.
That position forced Izumo, leaning against her command tower, to gaze downward, while the Wind Explorer-Harbin-tilted her face upward.
Their gazes locked. The Silver Fox's ruby-red eye met the qipao girl's dark eyes.
No words were spoken. Amidst the roar of the waves and the rustle of the morning wind, that gaze conveyed thousands of stories that needed no translation. The agony of being thrown into a foreign world, the suffocating loneliness, and the immense relief of finding a single soul from the same homeland. Both smiled in silence. The exhausted smiles of two fighters who had finally found home in each other's eyes.
On the deck of USS Enterprise floating not far from them, the Grey Ghost watched the silent reunion with a warm feeling.
Enterprise took a long, deep breath, then stretched both her arms upward. The muscles beneath her military uniform felt stiff and sore. Withstanding Nemesis's barrage and dangling from a stealth helicopter last night had truly drained her physical stamina. Even a legend needed rest.
"It seems my duty as a courier is truly finished," Enterprise said casually. Her crisp yet authoritative voice broke the silence, drawing Izumo's attention.
Enterprise walked to the edge of her deck, her gray overcoat fluttering softly. She looked at Izumo with eyes full of respect.
"Listen, Silver Fox. Your journey to map the world and uncover the mysteries of this dimension has only just begun, and we know it won't be easy," Enterprise advised, her tone turning serious. "Be careful in these no-man's waters. Don't hesitate to call us, and don't forget to send word to the fleet via your signature method. Those secret fireworks you launch into the stratosphere every night."
Enterprise smiled wryly, realizing that communicating using the residual thruster energy of MiG-27K missiles was a crazy idea only Izumo could come up with.
"Azur Lane will always be ready to provide combat support should you need it, Izumo. Because we realize, your mission to peel back the secrets of this world... is for the very survival of Azur Lane itself," Enterprise concluded, delivering a precise military salute.
Izumo fell silent upon hearing that profound parting message. She knew Enterprise wasn't merely speaking as a fleet representative, but as a sister-in-arms.
While still enduring the sting from the uncleansed scratches all over her arms, Izumo pushed off from the command tower. She stood tall, returning the Grey Ghost's gaze. Blood might still color her face and clothes, but the resolve in her eyes had never burned brighter.
With the last of her strength, Izumo raised her right hand high, then gave a firm thumbs-up toward Enterprise. An unspoken symbol of a promise that she would never give up, no matter how chaotic this ocean tried to drown her.
Enterprise returned the smile, then slowly turned her ship around. The legendary eagle from the past began to move away, returning to Japanese waters, leaving two phantoms from another world to weave their own destinies beneath the rising sun.
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To Be Continued
Chapter 21: Reunion and Encounter with a Superpower