The docking zone buzzes with the lazy energy of a meal finished and a reprieve earned. The grills sit cold, their embers reduced to ash and memory. Scattered plates and empty skewers litter the makeshift gathering area, evidence of the feast that brought two crews together in the shadow of annihilation.
Jean Bart and Ikkaku move through the Pluton's darkened corridors, their footsteps echoing in the dead silence. The ancient submarine groans around them, its systems dark, its power cells depleted. Ikkaku runs a hand along a wall panel, her fingers tracing the seams of the sea stone-alloy hull.
"Still dead," she mutters. "Not even a flicker."
Jean Bart nods, his massive frame silhouetted against the emergency glow filtering through the open hatch. "The captain will fix it. He always does."
Ikkaku's voice carries a note of doubt. "Yeah, but what if he can't this time? What if we're stuck here forever?"
Jean Bart's hand finds her shoulder. "Then we'll find another way. That's what we do."
Outside, Clione and Hakugan work to dismantle the makeshift grill. The metal frame is still warm, and Clione hisses as his fingers brush against a hot spot. "Careful with that thing. It's like it's trying to get the last laugh."
Hakugan chuckles, carefully lifting one end of the grill. "At least it's not trying to convert us into cyborgs. That's a win in my book."
---
On the Dreadnought Thalassa, the scene is one of controlled chaos.
Galit and Bianca huddle over the main console, their faces lit by the dim glow of a single portable lamp. Wires spill from open panels like exposed veins. Sparks flicker where Bianca's fingers probe the damaged circuits.
"Okay, so like, if I reroute the secondary conduits through the emergency backup, we might get, like, a fraction of the power back," Bianca says, her voice carrying a note of cautious optimism.
Galit's long neck curves to peer at her work. "Will it be enough for a jump?"
Bianca shrugs. "Like, maybe? It depends on how much we can, like, scavenge from the other systems."
Outside, Kaburo and Charlie attempt to store the remaining grill equipment. Charlie's arms tremble under the weight of a metal grate, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I don't... I don't suppose we could... take a break?"
Kaburo's jaw flexes, his eye glinting in the dim light. "We're almost done."
"But my arms!" Charlie protests.
Kaburo says nothing, simply taking the grate from him and stacking it with the others. Charlie collapses against a crate, his chest heaving.
Nearby, Vesta and Eliane work to secure the last of the food stores. Eliane's silver hair is tied back, her blue eyes focused on the task at hand. She carefully wraps a slab of sea king meat in preserving cloth.
"We can't let this go to waste," she says, her voice carrying the weight of a chef's pride. "I spent hours preparing this."
Vesta nods, her rainbow hair bouncing with each movement. "I know! It was so good! Like, really, really good!"
Jelly bounces between them, his gelatinous form quivering with anticipation. "Bloop! Snack time!"
Eliane's hand shoots out, blocking him. "No, Jelly! This is for later!"
Jelly bounces again. "Bloop! Snack time!"
Sanza rushes forward, his bamboo sword raised like a knight's lance. "Back, foul creature! I, Sanza Figarland, shall protect the provisions!" He jabs at Jelly, who simply bounces out of the way.
"Bloop! You can't catch me!"
Sanza's face reddens with frustration. "Stand still, you gelatinous menace!"
---
Clione and Hakugan cannot help but laugh.
The sight of Sanza charging at Jelly with a bamboo sword, the blue blob bouncing away with cheerful indifference, is too much. Clione doubles over, his hands on his knees. "I can't— I can't breathe—"
Hakugan's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. "The kid really thinks he can win against a creature made of jelly."
"I heard that!" Sanza's voice carries a wounded edge. "I am the future Supreme Commander of the Holy Knights! I will NOT be mocked by—"
Jelly bounces directly into his face.
Sanza goes down in a tangle of limbs and indignation.
Clione's laughter is full-throated now, echoing across the docking zone. Hakugan wipes a tear from his eye.
"That," Hakugan says, "is the funniest thing I've seen in weeks."
---
The ground shakes.
Everyone freezes.
The tremor passes through the island like a ripple through water. Plates clatter. Grills shift. The ancient metal of the docking zone groans in protest.
Kaburo's hand goes to Kalamaru's hilt. "It looks like—"
The second quake hits harder. Violent. Unforgiving. The island's very foundations shudder.
Both submarines groan in response—a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through the air. Then something changes. A sound. A hum. The unmistakable whisper of power flowing through dead circuits.
Clione's face lights up. "That's a good—"
Galit's voice echoes from the Dreadnought Thalassa's intercom, sharp and commanding. "We have power! Everyone get on board! It's time to go!"
The jovial atmosphere evaporates. Focus snaps into place like a blade drawn from its sheath.
---
The crews move as one.
Bodies file through hatches and down corridors. Equipment is abandoned. Grills are left where they stand at the entrance of the vessels. The only priority is survival.
Sanza skids to a halt at the Dreadnought Thalassa's hatch, his eyes scanning the docking zone. "But big sis—"
Vesta grabs his arm, pulling him forward. "She'll be fine! Let's go!" Her voice carries a desperate edge. "They'll catch up with us!"
Sanza's protest dies in his throat as he's dragged into the submarine's interior.
The hatches seal behind them.
The engines hum to life.
---
On the Pluton, Jean Bart's hands fly across the controls. Ikkaku's voice is a steady anchor in the chaos. "Power readings are climbing. Whatever they did, it worked."
Clione and Hakugan burst through the hatch, sliding it shut behind them. "Everyone's in!" Clione's voice is breathless. "We're good to go!"
Jean Bart nods, his fingers finding the proper sequence. "Hold on. This is going to be rough."
The submarine's engines roar to life. The hull groans as pressure systems engage.
---
On the Dreadnought Thalassa, Galit's voice cuts through the intercom one final time. "All hands, brace for departure. We're breaking the surface."
Bianca's fingers fly across the console. "Like, I've got power to the thrusters! Like, not much, but like, enough!"
Eliane's voice carries from the galley. "I've secured the food!"
Jelly bounces in place. "Bloop! Adventure time!"
Vesta's hand finds her guitar, her fingers tracing the strings with nervous energy. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"
Charlie's voice is barely a whisper. "What about the others?"
Kaburo's reply is cold, practical. "They'll make it. They always do."
Galit's voice returns, sharp and commanding. "Everyone, hold on!"
The Dreadnought Thalassa surges forward.
---
The Pluton follows close behind.
The island of Metis shudders, its wounded body convulsing as the last vestiges of its power drain away. The magnetic turbines seize. The whirlpools slow. The fog begins to clear.
And through the chaos, two submarines race toward the surface, their engines screaming, their crews praying.
Behind them, the island begins to die.
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