The control room hummed with the slow awakening of an eight-hundred-year-old facility. Banks of monitors flickered to life in sequence, their screens casting pale blue rectangles across the faces of those gathered. The air tasted of rust and ancient dust, of geothermal steam rising through unseen vents, of something electrical and long-dormant crackling back to consciousness.
Bianca Clark stood at the central console, her grease-stained overalls hanging open over a floral-print blouse that had seen better days. Her magnifying goggles perched on her forehead like a second pair of eyes, and her waist-length black hair had escaped its messy bun entirely, fanning around her shoulders in wild waves. She gestured expansively at the holographic display floating before her, her hands moving in sweeping arcs that nearly knocked over a stack of ancient data-slates.
"So like, there are like two submarines and stuff," she said, her voice carrying that characteristic lilt that made even urgent news sound casual. "And like this ancient facility is, like, equipped and everything, but like it needs work and stuff too. So like, we can like use all the help we can like get."
The split-screen monitor showed two figures: Nanette Ellington, composed and elegant in a deep burgundy gown with flowing split sleeves, and Knox Penrose, his handlebar mustache bristling as he leaned forward with his arms crossed. Behind them, the familiar shelves of the Consortium Library stretched into shadow.
Bepo's ears perked up, then drooped. The polar bear mink shifted his weight from foot to foot, his white fur ruffling with visible anxiety. "Are you sure the captains will be okay with this? They didn't exactly say we could—"
Bianca flicked her wrist in a dismissive gesture. "Like, yeah. If like they hadn't left so fast we could like ask them or whatever, but like they're not like here and like we need more hands, other than like the automatons."
Ikkaku stepped forward, wiping her hands on a rag that had seen more grease than fabric. The ship's engineer had the eager gleam of someone who had just discovered a treasure trove of ancient machinery. "Yeah, Bepo. They both left, and if we want to get this done quick, we need help. This way their ships will be like new when they come back."
Bepo's ears perked up again, a hopeful glint entering his eyes. "Really?"
Then the ears drooped again. "Sorry..."
Jean Bart's massive hand landed on Bepo's shoulder with a friendly thump that nearly sent the polar bear stumbling. "Don't worry, Bepo. We all want the same things."
Nanette intertwined her fingers and rested them on her desk, her dark eyes steady on the screen. The gold bracelets at her wrists clanking as she moved, sending small flashes across the control room. "We would be happy to help. This is a significant find. I am sure we will not struggle to find volunteers."
Bianca nodded enthusiastically. "Like cool. We like need all the engineers we can like get."
Charlie Leonard Wooley cleared his throat with a sharp ahem, adjusting his pith helmet and wire-framed glasses. His khaki shirt and shorts looked impossibly crisp despite the humidity, his leather satchel bulging with scrolls and notebooks. "I would also like to take this opportunity to update my notes and present them."
Nanette blinked, a flicker of something—trepidation, perhaps—crossing her composed features. "Oh, that sounds very..."
Charlie cut her off, his voice taking on the enthusiastic cadence of a man who had been waiting for exactly this moment. "If you like, I can provide an update on our most recent interactions and findings. We just left the—"
Knox cleared his throat—a rough, deliberate sound that cut through Charlie's preamble like a blade. The Head Captain of the Guardians leaned forward, his dark eyes fixed on the screen with an intensity that made Charlie's mouth snap shut. "Aurélie, I'd like an update. Last we spoke, you were on your way to Ushirika Island, and as I'm sure you noticed, the world turned upside down."
Aurélie Nakano Takeko stepped into the frame, her silver hair loose and framing her sharp features. She moved with that characteristic stillness, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. Her hand rested casually on Anathema's hilt, the black blade at her hip pulsing with a faint crimson glow that seemed to sense lies in the air.
"Yes," she said, her voice measured and quiet. "Much has happened. I will be more than happy to update you."
Master Gaius Vesper's face appeared on the split screen, his long silver hair flowing over his shoulders, his kiseru pipe trailing a curl of smoke. The old mentor's eyes gleamed with barely contained mischief. "So you said the captains have left. Do you know where to?"
Galit Varuna glanced up from a secondary console, his long neck arching in that restless S-curve that marked his constant observation. "Yes. They're on their way to the Island of Heh, looking for a specific artifact."
Charlie cleared his throat again, practically vibrating with the need to contribute. "I am more than happy to elaborate on our findings and motivations for their departure."
Master Gaius's smile widened, but his eyes never left the screen. "That's great, kid, but I wasn't talking to you."
Charlie jolted as if struck, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. His ears reddened beneath the brim of his pith helmet.
Aurélie interjected smoothly, her tone betraying nothing. "They became impatient and took the minisub. I am confident they will return upon our completion of the work."
Master Gaius pulled on his pipe, the ember flaring briefly. "And how will that go, seeing us there?"
Aurélie raised one elegant eyebrow. "How do you think she will take it?"
The old mentor's grin widened until it nearly split his face. "Hear that, Knox? You may want to bring some guardians along, too."
Bepo's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why wouldn't the captains want your help?"
Aurélie's eyes slid sideways, her expression carefully neutral. "Marya has a complicated history with the Consortium. She has been amicable since they agreed to keep their distance, however..."
Master Gaius finished the thought, his voice carrying an edge of dark amusement. "We are about to cross a boundary."
Nanette added, her tone smooth and diplomatic, "I am confident once she realizes we are offering support and not intervention, she will relax."
Aurélie's eyebrow climbed higher. "It would not be wise to underestimate her. She is not the child that once resided in the dorms."
Master Gaius's grin only widened. "Great! I cannot wait to see my old student."
Knox's mustache twitched. "You intend to go?"
"Of course I do." Master Gaius tapped his pipe against his palm. "I want to see how much she has grown. And I want to meet this Pirate Law. He's infamous."
Bianca nodded, her hair bouncing with the motion. "Like cool. So like when do you like think you will like get here?"
Nanette consulted something off-screen. "We can be there in about three hours."
Bianca opened her mouth to respond—
A sharp beep cut through the control room. Everyone turned as the Tontatta hologram materialized in the air above the central console, its tricorn hat flickering at the edges, its manic grin frozen mid-expression.
"Hello, gee whiz! It's good to see you!" The AI's voice echoed with that same desperate cheerfulness, bouncing off the ancient walls. "I am informing you that your companions are about to enter a restricted section. Authorized personnel only."
Bianca's face fell. "Like, shit."
Galit's neck straightened, his eyes narrowing. "D.I.G.O.S., why is it restricted? What's there?"
The Tontatta cartwheeled through the air, its tiny form spinning in a display of manic enthusiasm. "So glad you asked! Top Secret Experiments! Super Dangerous!"
Nanette leaned forward, her composure cracking just slightly. "Is there any way to seal the area to keep them from entering?"
Bianca answered before the AI could, her voice carrying the resignation of someone who knew exactly how her friends operated. "So like, that wouldn't work. They would just like blow it up and stuff."
Nanette tilted her head, a flicker of something—alarm? amusement?—crossing her features.
Master Gaius burst out laughing, a warm, raspy sound that filled the control room despite the distance. "Ha! That sounds esciting!"
Knox's mustache bristled. "This is not a laughing matter."
Bepo's ears flattened against his skull. "Maybe we should send someone after them?"
Aurélie nodded once, her hand already moving toward Anathema's hilt. "I can start."
Jean Bart stepped forward. "We can send Penguin and Shachi with you."
Aurélie's chin dipped in approval. "Agreed."
Bianca waved her hands, her voice carrying that characteristic lilt as she tried to get everyone back on track. "Like cool. So like we are going to like get to work and stuff, and we will see you in like three hours."
Nanette nodded, her composure fully restored. The screen flickered, then went dark, replaced by a holographic diagram of Selene-Clast. A red light flashed on the map, pulsing in motion, moving towards the restricted area of the facility.
---
Aurélie moved through the corridor with the fluid grace of someone who had spent a lifetime learning to be invisible. Her silver hair flowed behind her like a banner, catching the dim emergency lights that flickered along the walls. Behind her, Penguin and Shachi followed at a jog, their footsteps echoing off the ancient metal.
"So," Penguin said, "what exactly are we walking into?"
Aurélie didn't slow. "Unknown. The AI's warnings were... vague. Intentional, perhaps."
Shachi snorted. "Great. Vague warnings from a manic hologram. This is fine. Everything is fine.
"Your optimism is noted." Aurélie's voice carried no inflection, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "Try to keep up."
They rounded a corner and found themselves facing a massive blast door, its surface covered in warning symbols that had faded to illegibility over the centuries. The red light on the control panel blinked in steady rhythm.
Aurélie pressed her palm to the scanner. Nothing happened.
"Locked," she observed.
Penguin and Shachi exchanged a look.
"Want us to—" Penguin started.
"No." Aurélie's hand moved to Anathema. "Stand back."
The black blade slid from its sheath with a whisper that seemed to carry more weight than any shout. The crimson glow along its edge intensified as Aurélie raised it, her eyes fixed on the sealed door.
She struck.
The blade carved through the ancient metal like paper, leaving glowing lines that traced the path of her strike. The door groaned, then collapsed inward in a shower of sparks and rust.
Behind them, one of the smaller automatons—a maintenance unit with a single optical sensor—whirred to life. Its head swiveled toward the destroyed door, then back to Aurélie.
"Warning," it intoned, its voice flat and mechanical. "Unauthorized entry detected. Security protocols—"
Aurélie's hand snapped out, her fingers closing around the automaton's chassis. The machine sparked, then went dark.
"Apologies," she murmured to the dead machine. "But we're in a hurry."
Shachi whistled low. "Cold."
"The mission doesn't care about warm." Aurélie stepped through the ruined doorway, her sword still gleaming. "Now move. They don't have much time."
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