The air in the repair bay of the Dreadnought Thalassa hummed with the song of ancient industry—a symphony of whirring gears, the hiss of steam, and the steady clink-clank of brass on brass. Bianca Yvonne Clark was at the heart of it, her waist-length black hair escaping its messy bun in enthusiastic tendrils as she leaned into the open chest cavity of a 'Ship-Wright of Yore' automaton. Her magnifying goggles were smudged, her calloused fingers, tipped with chipped crimson polish, danced between a nest of copper wires and her multi-tool. A pencil was perilously close to falling from her hair.
"Okay, little guy," she muttered, her tongue poking out in concentration. "If I, like, reroute the primary motivator through the, like, secondary crystal lattice, you should, like, stop polishing that one bolt for, like, eight hundred years and maybe, like, follow me…"
A gentle, melodic voice spoke directly behind her. "Pardon the intrusion, but might I inquire—"
"LIKE WHAT THE HELL?!" Bianca yelped, jerking upright and smacking the back of her head with a solid thunk on the automaton's outstretched arm. She rocked back on her heels, dropping her tool with a clatter and clutching her skull. "Ow, ow, ow! Son of a biscuit!"
"Oh, pardon me," the voice said, a soft ripple of genuine concern. "I did not intend to startle."
Bianca, tears of pain in her eyes, blinked up. Floating before her was a figure woven from light and subtle aquatic grace—Halia. Her silver-blue hair flowed as if in a gentle current, her large, whirlpool eyes gentle and apologetic. The lower half of her form shimmered into an ethereal, tapering tail of cascading particles.
Bianca's pain vanished under a wave of pure, elated shock. She scrambled to her feet. "Oh, like, holy crap! You're back! Like, you're actually back!"
Halia's projected lips curved into a warm, patient smile. "Yes, the primary restorative sequences have concluded. I wished to commen—"
"GALIT!" Bianca screamed, spinning on her heel and sprinting for the open hatchway to the main corridor, her boots skidding on the smooth deck. "LIKE, HURRY UP AND, LIKE, GET IN HERE! IT'S HAPPENING!"
She dashed back into the bay, vibrating with energy. A few moments later, Galit Varuna slid into the room with fluid, urgent grace. His long neck was held in a taut curve, his sharp emerald eyes taking in the scene—the active hologram, the disassembled automaton, the ecstatic engineer. "Report," he said, his voice clipped.
Bianca gestured wildly at Halia. "Like, are you all fixed and stuff? The, like, main brain is online!"
Halia gave a slight, elegant nod. "Almost. The core systems have been restored and received significant upgrades from the facility's automata. I must commend your efforts in stabilizing the initial matrix. It was… instrumental." Her gaze drifted to the disemboweled Ship-Wright. "Might I inquire as to your current endeavor?"
Bianca nodded rapidly. "Like, yeah! I am, like, trying to get some of these little guys to, like, come with us. For, like, repairs and maintenance and stuff. Since we're, like, short-handed."
Halia's expression brightened with approval. "A very prudent course of ac—"
A new voice, like gravel grinding under a forge hammer, cut through the air. "What in the blazing crucible is going on in here? The power flux from your reactivation spiked my calibration buffers!"
A second figure solidified beside Halia in a shower of warm, amber sparks. Telchines stood, arms crossed over his broad, craftsman's chest, his craggy face set in a scowl. His orange-gold eyes flickered with annoyance.
Halia didn't turn, but her luminous tail gave a faint, disapproving flick. "This is not the time for system grievances. We need to focus."
"Focus?" Telchines snapped, throwing his large hands in the air. Several phantom wrenches materialized and vanished around his fingers. "I am the embodiment of focus! You're the one drifting in here for a social call while the structural harmonics are still off by point-zero-three cycles! Now, what does the surface-dweller want?"
Bianca blinked, looking between the two bickering legends of a lost age. "I, like, just asked if we could, like, get some robot guys to, like, come with us."
Telchines's formidable brow furrowed, then smoothed as if she'd asked if water was wet. "Of course you can. It's a simple matter of reassigning their core directive protocols. How many?"
Bianca's grin could have powered the ship. "Like, really?"
"Just inform us of the desired number," Halia said gently, attempting to regain control of the conversation.
Bianca cut her off, ideas firing like cannons. "Like, enough to keep this thing repaired, and, like, a few extra in case we, like, need backups or, like, something goes really wrong. Like, a squad!"
Telchines gave a sharp, approving nod. "Sound tactical redundancy. Let's say… fifty. A full maintenance cohort."
"Like, that was easy," Bianca breathed, amazed.
The world decided to disagree.
A deep, groaning ROAR tore through the ship, coming not from the engines but from the very rock surrounding them. The deck plates didn't just shake—they bucked like a spooked sea-beast. Bianca and Galit were thrown off their feet. Bianca yelped as she was flung across the bay, landing in a tangle of limbs with Galit, who cursed in a language as sharp and fluid as his fighting style.
"What in the Maw's name—?!" Galit snarled, untangling himself.
Halia's form flickered, her voice urgent yet steady. "The island's geothermal instability has reached a critical phase. The facility's structural integrity is—"
A voice, deep, resonant, and utterly devoid of life, boomed from everywhere and nowhere, vibrating in their teeth and bones. It was the voice of the Triple Ten Gate itself.
"CATASTROPHIC FAILURE. FACILITY BREACH DETECTED. EVACUATE. EVACUATE. EVACUATE."
The repeating command was a death knell. All around them, the diligent automata froze for one synchronized second, then redoubled their efforts with frantic, silent speed.
Galit was moving before the third 'evacuate' echoed. "Halia! Bridge, now! Assume navigational control!" He was a streak of dark teal, his long neck leading his body as he sprinted from the bay.
Bianca pushed herself up, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Telchines! Like, how many are on board right now?"
The gruff hologram didn't look at her, his eyes darting as he accessed data. "Seventy-five. They were conducting final hull-sealing and system diagnostics."
"Like, cool! That's, like, more than we asked for! Seal it up and let's, lie, get out of here!" she yelled, snatching her multi-tool and sprinting after Galit.
She burst onto the command bridge a step behind Galit. The vast, arched chamber was coming alive. Panoramic view screens flickered and snapped into clarity, showing the nightmarish scene outside: the colossal cavern of the Triple Ten Gate was coming apart. Massive chunks of the artificial star-field ceiling were breaking loose, trailing dust and crystalline shards as they plummeted into the dark water of the drydock. The groans of dying rock were a constant, oppressive soundtrack.
Halia's form was already centered before the main viewer, her data-rich robes displaying cascading schematics. "Lieutenant Varuna, I must inform you, repairs are only at eighty-seven percent completion. Several secondary systems, including the tertiary power shunt and the long-range sensor array, remain—"
The ship lurched violently. A thunderous CRACK echoed through the hull, and a fissure spiderwebbed across a section of the viewport. A slab of black rock the size of a house smashed into the water just outside, sending a wave that slammed the Thalassa against its magnetic moorings.
Bianca slid into the co-pilot's seat, her fingers flying over a console. "Like, whatever! We can, like, fix the rest later! If we don't , like, move, 'later' is gonna be, like, never!"
Halia met Galit's eyes across the bridge. Her serene expression held a weight of ancient understanding. She gave a single, solemn nod. "Understood. Activating emergency power. Releasing drydock magnetic clamps. Navigation is yours."
Galit dropped into the pilot's throne, his hands settling on the controls. A fierce, focused grin touched his lips. "Hold onto something."
With a series of heavy, shuddering clunks, the great ship was released. For a terrifying moment, it simply dropped. The bottom fell out of Bianca's stomach as the Dreadnought Thalassa, all 45,000 tons of her, plunged into the churning water of the drydock basin. The impact was a colossal, shuddering slam that rattled every bolt.
"Reverse thrusters! Now!" Galit barked, slamming his palm onto a glowing control rune.
The engines, those wounded beasts, roared to life. A torrent of bubbles and disturbed water exploded behind the sleek, black hull. The ship strained forward, pulling away from the collapsing cradle.
Just as they cleared the dock, the universe bagan to collapse behind them. The entire central section of the cavern's ceiling gave way. A mountain of stone and ancient machinery crashed down, filling the space they had occupied milliseconds before. The shockwave hit the Thalassa like a giant's fist, sending it slewing sideways through the water.
Galit wrestled with the controls, his neck cords taut. "Come on, you beautiful relic," he growled through gritted teeth. "Show me what you've got."
The ship answered. It righted itself and shot forward like a spear, entering the flooded lava tube that was their only exit. The tunnel walls, striated with glowing minerals, became a blurred, streaking kaleidoscope of panic as Galit pushed the engines beyond their stressed limits. The roar of water and straining metal was deafening.
Then—light. True, open-ocean light.
The Dreadnought Thalassa exploded from the tunnel mouth in a spectacular, violent eruption of sea foam and spray, breaching the surface with leviathan grace before crashing back down into the rolling waves. The sudden openness, the shock of real sky—even a sky stained with volcanic ash—was staggering.
Bianca let out a whoop of sheer, adrenalized relief, turning to share a wild, grinning look with Galit. For a second, the tension broke.
The alarm that screamed through the bridge was a physical thing, a piercing shriek that cut through their brief celebration.
"Like, what the sweet hell is that?!" Bianca yelled, hands flying to her ears.
Halia's voice was calm, but it carried an edge of cold, hard fact. "Seismic and hydrographic sensors indicate the volcanic eruption on Gora-Gora Island has triggered a sub-oceanic landslide. A megatsunami is forming. Impact in nineteen minutes."
Galit's grin vanished. His eyes darted to the main screen, where Halia's schematic now showed a terrifying, expanding ring of energy moving across the seafloor towards them. "We have to go. Now."
Bianca's face fell, the guilt a sudden, sickening weight in her gut. "But… like, what about Aurélie? And Charlie and Ember? And… and the Ruru-Gin? We can't just, like…"
"We can't do anything for them if we're crushed at the bottom of the sea," Galit said, his voice harder than the volcanic glass he wore. His fingers were already dancing across the nav-console, plotting a desperate course. "Halia, deepest possible dive angle. Get us under the shockwave. Bianca, secure everything that isn't welded down."
"But—" Bianca's protest was a weak thing, choked by the logic of survival and the sight, now visible on the starboard viewer, of a distant, growing line of white on the horizon. A wall of water, gathering itself to scrub the island and everything around it from the map.
"Tsunami wavefront consolidating," Halia announced. "Impact in sixteen minutes. Executing emergency dive protocol."
Galit didn't ask for confirmation. "Do it."
The deck tilted sharply downward. Bianca grabbed her console, her knuckles white. Through the viewport, she saw the sky disappear, replaced by the deep, hungry blue of the ocean as the Dreadnought Thalassa angled its nose and plunged into the abyss, fleeing the mountain's dying rage and the wall of water that was its final, sweeping breath. The silence that followed was filled only with the creak of the hull and the sound of their own racing hearts, diving deeper into the dark, away from the friends they were forced to leave behind.
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