Serenity's drones fanned swiftly across Otherrealm, each locked onto their respective targets. The first drone located Maelara in the gym, standing in front of an oversized mirror, utterly absorbed in admiring her reflection. Every meticulous flex brought another wave of deep striations rippling across her absurdly powerful muscles, showcasing a level of strength that bordered on outright absurdity. Around her stood four shorter yet impressively muscular women, all gazing at Maelara with expressions somewhere between admiration and awe.
A soft humming drew Maelara's attention away from her perfect form. Irritation flashed briefly across her face before recognition replaced it.
"Oh, Serenity!" Maelara relaxed into an easy grin. "What's up?"
Serenity's eyes narrowed slightly on the drone's small screen, curiosity obvious. "Maelara, who exactly are these people?"
Maelara glanced back, smiling proudly. "These? These are my muscle mommies."
Serenity blinked, momentarily dumbfounded. "Your...what?"
"My new dungeon team," Maelara explained enthusiastically, waving her companions forward. "Team Jacked. Ladies, show her the goods."
All four women stepped up immediately, striking synchronized poses, muscles standing out sharply beneath athletic frames, their faces lit by fierce pride. Maelara nodded approvingly, placing a hand on her hip.
"They've still got some work to reach peak perfection like me," she clarified with a casual shrug, "but you'd have to be blind not to see how impressive they already are."
A brief pause followed as Serenity chose to forgo any debate on the matter. "...Right. There is a significant threat approaching the dungeon, and it might pass over Otherrealm. The Nightshatter might require additional support."
Maelara raised a skeptical eyebrow. "The Nightshatter can't handle it? Not even the Starshard? That's hard to believe."
Quickly, Serenity offered an explanation. "It's too close to Otherrealm for powerful nuclear… magic. Using them would cause a devastating tsunami."
With a dramatic sigh, Maelara rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Fine, fine. Just need to grab one of those... what do you call them, uh, protein snakes?"
Serenity's expression flattened, her voice carrying an edge of mild annoyance. "Shake."
"Ah, right. Shake, got it," Maelara corrected herself cheerfully. "Yeah, protein shake. I'll grab one, maybe five, maybe more, and meet you aboard."
Accepting this, Serenity immediately shifted her focus to the second drone, currently weaving swiftly through the ancient trees. She found Siren standing silently amidst the shadows of towering trunks, his calm gaze already following the drone as it approached.
"Yes?" Siren asked simply.
Serenity started, "There's a threat, and I—"
"Lead the way," Siren interrupted stoically, his voice firm and gentle.
She tried again, "But it's aboard the Nightshatter—"
"Lead the way," he repeated, softer yet somehow more insistent.
Understanding he needed no further details, Serenity, annoyed, guided the drone away without another word, toward the battleship.
The third drone found Grifftin near the farthest walls of Otherrealm, enthusiastically throwing massive boulders around an empty grassy field. Noticing the drone approaching, he spun around defensively, eyes wild with anticipation.
"What manner of evil…oh," Grifftin relaxed visibly, embarrassment immediately replacing vigilance. "Apologies, Serenity, I'll never grow accustomed to these metal birds the Captain sends flapping around everywhere."
The drone hovered closer, stabilizing itself. Serenity's voice came through, calm with that particular edge that meant she was busy and allowing him to be charming anyway.
"There's trouble approaching," she said. "I want you aboard the Nightshatter."
Grifftin's entire face lit up.
"Aboard the Captain's battleship?" His voice swelled as if he'd been offered a feast. "Must I wear something nice?"
Even through a small screen, Serenity's silence carried judgment.
"Would you," she asked, "if I told you to?"
A grin spread across his face. "Absolutely not."
"Then no," Serenity replied.
"Splendid!" Grifftin boomed, flexing enthusiastically. "I'll join swiftly." His grin widened like he'd remembered something that would make this even better. He turned and shouted toward the trees at the edge of the field. "Mizzien! Come on over here, don't be shy now!"
The name sat in Serenity's memory like a page she hadn't touched in months.
A pause followed, then movement among the trunks. Mizzien stepped out slowly, as if he expected the ground to argue with him for showing his face. Sweat darkened the collar of his shirt. A faint sheen clung to his forearms and neck, the kind left by real training, not posturing.
He stopped short of the drone's shadow, gaze briefly lifting to the screen, then dropping again.
Recognition warmed Serenity's voice before she decided she didn't have time for warmth.
"Oh, it's you," she said. "I haven't seen you since… right around the time we started building this little city."
The small and shy figure of Mizzien nodded. His hands hovered near his sides like he didn't know what to do with them when someone spoke to him directly.
Believing subtlety to be a moral failure, Grifftin clapped Mizzien on the shoulder with a jarring enthusiasm that made him flinch before he quickly regained his composure.
"This one here," Grifftin said proudly, "is a new member of the Security Council. He's green, but he'll be replacing one of our members who will soon resign."
Through the drone's lens, Serenity studied Mizzien, assessing him rather than regarding him with suspicion. A man who had been a slave eight months ago now stood in a training field near the city walls, sweating, alive, and being introduced as a council member. Even when it was functioning, Roy's world stayed strange.
A sea marker pulsed on the corner of her screen back on the bridge, as if reminding her what mattered.
"Understood," Serenity said. "Come directly to the ship. Don't wander."
Mizzien nodded again. The gesture looked like obedience at first glance. On the second, it read as relief, as if he'd been handed a clear rule to follow and could finally stop guessing.
Grifftin lifted both hands, already half turned toward the city. "We'll be there before you can miss us."
The drone rose, rotated, and began its return path over rooftops and wall lines, cutting back toward the harbor where the Nightshatter waited. Sea wind struck the casing as it cleared the outer district, salty and sharp.
On the bridge, Serenity's screens still showed the same line on the ocean map, still pointing at the dungeon like an accusation.
-
Across the polished dock walkway, Maelara folded her powerful arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other with subtle impatience. Serenity's security drones hovered nearby, their monitors flickering as Grifftin's broad silhouette emerged through the settling mist, accompanied closely by a shorter, more reserved figure. Mizzien kept slightly behind, eyes fixed firmly on the ground, the faint flush of exertion still visible across his cheeks.
"About time," Maelara called, amusement coloring her tone. "Thought you'd gotten cold feet."
Grifftin's laughter boomed warmly in response, echoing off the dock's metallic plating. "Cold feet? No such thing exists for me. The day Grifftin fears battle is the day he shaves his beard."
Siren glanced sideways at Grifftin's carefully groomed facial hair, raising one eyebrow slightly. "Truly a terrifying thought."
Allowing himself a faint, hesitant smile, Mizzien finally lifted his eyes. His gaze settled on Serenity's drone, a mixture of awe and apprehension flickering across his features.
"Is this everyone, then?" Serenity asked calmly from the drone's screen, expression neutral as always.
Before Maelara could reply, a Presidroid stepped out onto the walkway ahead, one hand raised politely. "Apologies, honored guests. Could you pause for a moment?" The Presidroid hesitated, glancing nervously back over his shoulder at the ship. "We're completing some minor preparations."
Behind him, a sudden burst of muffled laughter spilled down from the deck. Feet thumped rapidly overhead, interspersed by metallic clangs and a distant shout. "You'll never catch me!"
The Presidroid's shoulders visibly tensed.
Siren tilted his head, curious amusement flickering at the edges of his lips. "I thought the ship was supposed to be empty?"
Clearing his throat, the Presidroid quickly offered a strained smile. "Yes, well…just our maintenance golems. Sometimes they can be rather spirited."
A louder crash echoed down this time, accompanied by a triumphant yell. "Missed!"
With a resigned sigh, Serenity's image on the drone's monitor darkened slightly, her expression clouding with irritation. On a smaller inset monitor beside her, Father Skeleton raced merrily through corridors, pursued closely by several frantic Presidroids.
"My sincerest apologies," Serenity muttered quietly. "The…golems have chosen today, of all days, to be particularly challenging."
Maelara chuckled, leaning toward Grifftin conspiratorially. "Seems Roy's golems aren't as well-behaved as he claims."
Before Grifftin could reply, Father Skeleton's voice abruptly came through on the small screen, sounding mildly remorseful. "Oh dear," he said, voice surprisingly contrite. "Are we not playing tag?"
"No," answered one Presidroid flatly, breathing hard. "We definitely were not."
A single grunt from Father Skeleton served as affirmation. "Ah. Understood. I'll go shower instead. Wouldn't want anyone stealing my shampoo."
An attempt at a protest rose from another Presidroid. "But you don't even," he started, and the rest of it crumpled on the spot as a different Presidroid set a comforting hand, firm and final, on his shoulder and gave a quiet shake of the head.
With unpracticed grace, robes swirling in full dramatic approval of the moment, Father Skeleton turned and walked away, humming cheerfully.
Back on the dock, Mizzien struggled visibly to keep from smiling, glancing sideways at Grifftin. "Is this level of sketchy actions... typical?"
"More often than you'd think," Grifftin admitted, sighing theatrically. "I suspect it's deliberate."
The Presidroid at the gangplank straightened and stepped aside, gesturing politely toward the entrance. "Preparations complete. You may board now. Thank you for your patience."
Awkwardly suppressing a smile, Maelara walked forward first, stepping confidently onto the Nightshatter's main deck. Grifftin followed closely, openly wary of the drone buzzing beside him. Mizzien trailed quietly, eyes wide with barely concealed excitement.
Inside, the ship hummed, its clean, smooth surfaces softly illuminated. Serenity's voice guided them via speakers embedded along the hallways. "Due to circumstances, we must forgo any formal tour. Roy sends his regrets, though he advises caution… unauthorized exploration could end unpleasantly."
"A polite way of saying we'll get vaporized?" Grifftin asked lightly.
"Roy specifically mentioned curses and 'oogah-boogah,'" Serenity replied dryly. "But yes, effectively."
Laughter rippled through the group. Siren shook his head, his expression gentle. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Near the bridge entrance, a collection of Presidroids stood in two precise lines, their polished chassis reflecting the ship's internal lighting. At the head stood three Elite Presidroids. Quincy, flanked by Polk and Garfield, their posture unwaveringly professional.
Presidroid Hayes stood slightly apart, head cocked with an expression of mild curiosity, while six other advanced Presidroids hovered attentively nearby.
Harmony's voice emerged from a nearby speaker, her tone thoughtful. "Serenity, isn't this somewhat... excessive?"
Without hesitation, Serenity replied evenly. "Captain's explicit instructions."
Inclining his head slightly, Garfield spoke in a low and firm voice. "The team is prepared for anything. There's no margin for error today."
A faint chuckle emerged from Hayes's features as the Presidroid shifted slightly. "Which likely means something's going to explode within the hour."
From behind them, Grifftin's deep laughter boomed again, resonating pleasantly through the corridor. "And that's why I adore this crew. Always an optimist around."
Mizzien lingered near the bridge door, gaze drifting thoughtfully between the gathered Presidroids and the sophisticated equipment lining every surface. His fingers flexed gently, a reverent awe filling his eyes.
"First time aboard?" Quincy asked politely, noticing Mizzien's expression.
Startled, Mizzien flushed slightly, nodding quickly. "Yes. I've… heard so much about it."
A fraction of softness slipped into Garfield's voice, the gentleness cutting hard against his usually stern bearing. "Welcome aboard, then. Enjoy the moment, you'll never forget your first engagement on the Nightshatter."
With a long exhale, nerves visibly loosening, Mizzien let a warm smile take over. "Thank you."