---

It had only been less than a quarter of an hour after Eve had left. After one last close inspection of the gun, Éliane had nearly fully reassembled the gun and was ready to bring it up to the deck for a test firing when the alarm was raised. Being below decks at this point, the Skaelan officer was unable to see what the threat was as she watched pirates stream up towards the upper decks, with hastily grabbed weapons in hand.

The pink-haired girl grimaced; at this point in the voyage, considering who they were taking passage with, the only threat on the high seas was going to be Valheimians of some sort. Momentarily leaving the gun where she left it, she sprinted to her room and hastily threw on her Household Guards jacket and belted on her weapons before she dashed back to the gun. By the time she did so, the sounds of battle were well under way, as blades crashed and guns spoke on the decks above. Thankfully, it didn’t feel like they were being outright bombarded by whatever vessel had caught up to them, but with the way the deck shook, it was also clear that they weren’t slacking, either.

Although Éliane was totally surprised by the ambush, a small smirk played across her face as she threw a belt of ammunition over her shoulder and picked up the rotary cannon. It looked like she would be getting a chance to properly play with her toy now, in a proper live trial in combat.

When she came onto the deck, it was the chaos as she expected. The rest of the Kirins were already there, clashing with Valhiemian soldiers as their airship kept pace in the air. She squinted briefly at what was going on—was that a dragoon Izayoi and Rudolf were fighting? With a squad of Valheimian grunts on jetpacks?

Éliane immediately began setting up at the aftcastle of the ship, giving a vantage point over the entire ship, wincing as she did so at the discordant singing that clashed over the decks of the ship. Whatever foul sounds were reaching out from the Valheimians, it seemed like Ciradyl was countering, which she was grateful for. Normally, she wanted to be more mobile than setting up in one place, but when there was a chance to test out dakka…

A moment later, she was ready, and she began cranking the rotary gun to get it started up.
Whirrrr…

And she immediately began aiming at the Valheimian fake-dragoons bouncing about on their jetpacks. Éliane thought nastily that they were about to get a taste of their own anti-air as she tracked a pair that were about to make a run on Ciradyl, and then immediately opened up with a brief hail of bullets. It took less than a second for one to be immediately knocked out of the sky, minced apart by the large caliber guns, and sending the other tumbling away into the sea either from a hit or a bad evasion.

Grinning savagely, she then turned her attention to Mr. Bouncy apparently traitor dragoon and depressed the trigger as well.

She just had to be careful with the small amount of ammunition she had.

To Izayoi, the only thing worthwhile about the byplay between Galahad and the traitor dragoon was that the former seemed to truly have no idea about the latter’s betrayal. As the two Edreni separated, the samurai took her opportunity to intervene and leapt forward, barreling straight into Valon from the side before he could reengage with Galahad.

”Ergh!” He grit his teeth, hurriedly bringing the haft of his spear up to try to ward off Izayoi’s series of strikes. ”Fast…but…!” With the barest hint of an opening, Valon used his superior strength to shove Izayoi away from his position, quickly catching his breath from having to fend off two warriors in quick succession.

”...Not fast enough.” He concluded with a chortle, twirling his weapon around once more. ”You know, I didn’t believe the handlers when they said you’d gone to the dogs. By the stories, I should be dead by now, even with the bit of help I’ve gotten. And speaking of, you’re feeling it, aren’t you?” Valon chuckled as Izayoi narrowed her eyes, her movements ever so slightly slowed by the Siren’s call. His laugh didn’t last long, overshadowed as it was by Ciradyl’s song in response. One by one, his men started falling, over half of the dozen pseudo-dragoons he’d brought dying in quick succession before he had to hurriedly make a long vault away from Eliane’s field of fire as the first few bullets pinged against his plate, grazes drawing blood.

”Oh for the love of-” He sighed, raising his free hand to his mouth to let out a loud whistle. ”Can’t even last long enough for me to have my fun. Assault unit, regroup! Form up and fire from range, take out their cannoneers so we can bring the airship in closer!” His remaining five men did as he bid, keeping well above the fray as they aimed down, a fusilade of fire bringing down several of Bikke’s men manning the guns. Their escort airship began to close in as the assault dragoons shifted their fire to both Eve’s wings and Ciradyl, aiming to literally clip their primary target’s wings while subduing the most annoying supporter on the field. All the while, Izayoi scowled, looking to Galahad.

”They are out of my range, even with magic. And where is the boy-” Valon’s voice cut her off, shouting across the field to the point where he could be heard down below.

”Right, Siren? If you’d care to help at any point in time? Mare Imperatrix, release your restraints! Tides unending!”

Rumbling began to come from the ocean, shaking all those on board…

Ciradyl's benevolent aria flowed from her instrument and vocal cords, pushing back against the Siren's lure. As the white-haired Bard's melodies soothed her comrades' ears, they'd find their auditory afflictions swiftly washed away, their instincts no longer dulled. Indeed, as long as the Ospreyan Diva could continue her performance uninterrupted, her audience needed not fear the temptress of the sea.

However, below the surface, it was a different matter altogether.

Down here, Ciradyl's song faltered against the Siren's, resulting in the full force of her melodious malady to still affect the only Kirin unfortunate enough to invade her domain.

But, no, he must not falter, he had a mission to accomplish, to silence her beautifully discordant notes! And yet, for all of the umbral powers his 'patron' granted him, Rudolf was still very much a creature of the land, possessing neither gills, nor fins. He might be - despite what his father thought of him - a talented and experienced swordsman, but here in the depths, with the clumsiness of his land-suited limbs, how could he even hope to chase down the elusive chimeric siren?

As the scaled humanoid glided gracefully through the water as if it's naught but air, the creature would eventually pass the monster hunter, and perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but Rudolf could swear that for an iota of a moment, it-... she opened her left eye in a reverse-wink at the young man while her lips curled a smirk. The sight was breathtaking, just like the turbulent water he's submerged in.

Perhaps there was a reason why sirens had such infamy amongst men of the sea, with but a smile and a song, they could lure others into embracing their own deaths, drowning in the depths with naught but a mesmerized smile.

Though stout enough to deflect even The Revenant's mythical blade, Svalinn could only afford to buy time, time that his comrades could use to take care of the threat, but right here, right now, he was by his lonesome, facing against a foe who didn't even seem interested to engage him. Like a particularly malicious orca, she could simply swim circles around the land dweller until the ocean itself would take him. After all, unlike him, she had all the time in the world...

...or at least until a certain traitor dragoon's voice pierced through the sea from above.

Nigh-instantly, she proceeded to stop singing and moving, was this his chance?

"Aah~ fufu~" Although the wide smile and sultry giggle that followed didn't exactly instill much confidence...

Up above, as if on cue, after Valon's enunciation, rain began to fall as thunders raged, quickly rising in intensity until a veritable downpour had blanketed the area, dousing Kirins, pirates, and Valheimrs alike as if they were harbingers of oceanic calamity.

Down below, before Rudolf's very eyes, the water began to ebb and flow unnaturally, in fact, he could even feel it as raging currents pulled against his form. Here, the years he spent practicing footwork and martial stances meant absolutely nothing as he was helplessly dragged along. Like debris caught by a tornado, he spent the next few moments being tossed and turned round-and-round the blue-haired Pseudolon, so close yet so far.

As for the rest of the Kirins, the source of the aquatic rumblings finally revealed herself with an ear-shattering roar as four gigantic water constructs in the shape of a naga's head rose from the depths, one at each cardinal direction.

...and Rudolf too, the young Sollan - drenched, out of breath, and dazed - was tossed way up into the air in the wake of Siren's transformation.

The False Empress of the Sea wasted no time as each of her heads began assaulting the Kirins and pirates. Two swooped in with their maw open to devour and swallow her enemies into her thalassic belly, while the other two belched a deluge to sweep them overboard!

@Izurich@vietmyke@Ithradine@Psyker Landshark

She slipped free again, and the knife-bearing young man wrenched his torso to roll and keep pursuit.

He was being pummeled.

Like a ragdoll caught in the jaws of an overexcited hound, the countless eddies and sudden riptides that swirled about the Faye Pseudolon’s frame as she danced beneath the waves, always just ahead and just out of reach, were tearing him in seemingly every direction.

Though he was no sailor, and had plied his trade well into the interior of the continental landmass’s valleys, fields, and badlands, he was a capable swimmer by any measure— but neither that, nor the strength hidden in his tirelessly trained body, seemed to matter. It was a fool’s errand, trying to catch Leviathan in her home territory— and as he exerted himself more and more, willing his burning lungs to hold out as he pushed to close the gap, that point was proven further and further as she slipped away each time.

Every effortless, almost lazy circle she drew around him drove it home that he was trying to make the best of a terrible situation— had this been in any way intentional on his part, he would die the biggest idiot on the planet.

And through none of it did her song let up. He was right about Naga and their ability to slow their prey, but thbis was no Naga, and this was no mere Slowing.

It had already gotten him into this mess on the surface to begin with, clouding his mind and diluting enough focus that by the time he'd clocked that he was about to spiral out of control into the waves, it had pretty much already happened. And now, surrounded by it with enough resonance to feel in his bones...

A labored swipe barely nicked her white garb as she darted again out of his way, forcing out a grimace. He was running out of time before he'd need to surface, and he knew it. The moment he broke off, he was toast. She'd just pull him down, and let his last bit of air burn out. He had to get ahold of her. He had to reach her. She was right there. Daring him into it. Calling out to him.

_{Hey, kid—}

She opened one eye placidly, meeting his own for the first time with a heart-fluttering smirk, giggling to herself as she drifted away and he surged into her wake. Down here in the blue, that eye seemed to glow an unnaturally brilliant sapphire, shifting, rippling, easy to stare into, impossible to look away from. The shifting tides spun within, riveting, endless, dizzying, entrancing. A mesmer all its' own.

Her song continued. It was like a heavy blanket draped over him on a cold winter night. Warm... snug...

_Rudolf.

Their brackish waltz continued, a slow spiral, a slower and slower spiral. The edges of his vision were beginning to fade. White.

White... He had always believed nothingness was black. Was it white, the absence..?

He had to reach her. He had to reach out. If he could just get a hold of her... dammit...

Each failed attempt was another leaden chain on him. That was the black. Weight. The black was a burning weight, like his lungs, like his heart. Leviathan's song was white. Painless. Light, like he was floating away...

It wouldn't be so bad down here...

Hearing this lovely melody... Watching this graceful woman dance, ebb, flow as though the sea itself...

Danube...

His thoughts were fading and disordered, as the struggle against the currents taxed even his stamina, built over 15 years, to it's limit. The last air in his lungs was burning out... he could hardly focus. a thin line of black, desperately guarding the last color in the world... the shimmering blue he saw in her gaze.

Out of time.

How frustrating. In the end, he couldn't even reach out and touch her. Let alone stop her song.


Out of time.

...What he wanted?
...What the hell had it been?

What was he reaching so desperately for, anyway?

Tighter. Tighter. Even the blue fading. His mind's eye. One black line on the back of the void. Burning furiously. Every last bit of the wick feeding its desperate rage, its pain, its frustration. Out of time.

This song told him enough. That he could let it take him,

and his worries,

and fears,

and pains,

so many of each he carried... they'd all fade, like this. He'd fought so hard... He wanted it all to be over. That had to be it. That was why he was stretching his arm right now... if he could reach this woman, Lady Leviathan... her song was of warm embrace, that would take it all away. Danube and the sea would wash his soul clean...

<sub>Lose everything.

The tiny wisps of ink gasped that retort.
Everything would be lost.
Dying a failure.
Making one last promise he couldn't keep.

What about that?

...He could rest. Truly. Meeting Neve had been his last confession, ordering his business before... he gave himself. To this hauntingly vast, terrible, beautiful thing called the sea...</sub>

"Aah~ fufu~"

_{She's stopped.}

Rip her apart.

The black flames exploded outward, burning away the veil as the world returned to him for that instant, as a cascade of bubbles from an involuntary howl rising to the surface. He lunged with every last fiber of his being, to bring his stalwart steel to bear against this woman. Her shackles on his mind had released, and his grimace was now a bestial, maddened snarl. He couldn't let this slip. This was the corner he'd been backed into. Before she could do any more damage, he'd tear into her. This was his chance—

Barely.

He had barely nicked her, not even the alabaster skin, not even enough to draw out blood. Just a scratch on the cerulean scales...

And then once more, the world began to spin. Dizzyingly fast, impossible to escape, a leaf in a whirlwind. They rose together as his mind tried to catch up, still in the haze of empty lungs, until...

"GAH!"

He was flying.

Airborne by scores of feet, as the spout of water fell into the sea beneath, and he continued to rise with momentum.

Air stung as it replaced the salt and water that had begun to seep into his lungs. His head spun as it, for the second time, reordered the world. Rain was hitting his face, the clear skies he had said goodbye to as he'd hit the water supplanted by a tempest. Lightning cracked above him, shook his bones.

Below, the tides raged and boiled. He could hear the swell. Whatever Leviathan was doing, none of it was good.

A song again filled his ears. From the ship. From a familiar voice, not borne of waves, but of wind.

Ciradyl. Kirin!

There, in that suspended moment of terminus at the height of the steep arc his frame drew, he wrenched his body 'round as his mind and limbs blazed with emboldened will once more. He had his head back. He finally had his fucking head back, and only seconds to use it.

Four heads stemming from a central mass of upswelled water, each in the shape of a serpent's sinuous body. The ship, buffeted by churning waves, accosted by all four points of that hydra's compass rose. Two barreling straight into the deck. Two more with maws wide open, as the seas coalesced within them, as though draconic. On the deck, his compatriots in formation, still accosted by the false dragoons and Valon.

They'd get swept off. Into that same mess. Gravity was taking hold again. He had to act— Gravity!

As Ciradyl's aria flooded his mind with that long-lost impetus, it grabbed onto the idea and executed, out of time for anything else.

By some miracle, he flexed his right hand and still felt the knife's sabretooth hilt in his grasp. It wasn't balanced for throwing, had the suggestion of an edge for most of its length, but it was strong, sturdy, and superb for punching through the hide of anything on the planet with enough force. Up here, he couldn't see his quarry within the surging mass... but if he wanted to hit the center, his angle had been thrown off slightly. Angles, distance... they ran through his head, pushing his visual calculus as hard as he could.

His free hand reached into the pouch at his hip, palming two orbs that thrummed with condensed aether. One sparked with purple energy in his grasp, reacting to the idea his will was clustering around, the other...

"ARTON!"

He whipped the arm and his torso behind it over, praying he put the right amount of spin on it as it rolled free from his fingertips. The green glint of the Shield Materia caught the thunder overhead— it had long overstayed its welcome in Rudolf's hands anyway, once Galahad had him dead to rights on the nature of the barrier he'd brought forth in the desert. It had no room in his hands, better serving someone stalwart, sturdy, properly able to protect... and standing in front of the three of them. They had all sought him out and tried, in their own ways, to look after him. this was the only way he could do the same.

As for the gravity, well...

The purple energy crackled as his will flooded either hand, and he dropped fast. Faster, as he angled his body, bringing the blade to bear as it trailed a streak of smoke. Faster still than even terminal velocity, as the magic pulled him down. He wouldn't be hitting the central mass where he suspected the Pseudolon's body sat within this construct, but he could hit that first incoming head, shaped like a Naga, at the point he knew was a sure kill.

Toyed with his head. Nearly drowned him. Proved that his every pledge to not give up on those around him, to try his best to overcome his own weakness, that he and no other was the master of his body and mind, proved them all lies. He'd been helpless this whole damned time, and her song had turned him into a witless, drowning corpse, holding up Danube's mirror to his soul, to the part of him that gave in, every time—

The first head of the hydra bore down on Izayoi and Galahad, set to swallow them into a one-way trip to the abyss— The one he'd just succumbed to, only surviving by dumb, dumb luck.

Thunder cracked.

He poured every ounce of that anger into the fifteen inches of steel, his last fang with which to hunt, and it blazed with weighty umbra as he drove it deep into the base of that first thalassal Naga's skull.

After the Kirins' very own Faye Bard neutralized the Siren's song, it became painfully clear that the traitor Valon needed her melodies as a crutch to compensate for the sorry excuse of "dragoons" he brought. When faced against the unadulterated might of King Leonhart's task force, they couldn't compare. One by one with little gaps in-between, their numbers fell to around half he started with.

"Tch...!" Freed from the mind-dulling malady, Eve managed to conjure a mighty gust of wind in time to clash against the faux dragoon's volley, throwing the projectiles off course. If it wasn't for Ciradyl, she might very well have her wings clipped.

As the hostile airship began to descend upon them, the Pseudolon quirked an eyebrow, then for a moment, the fellow traitors of their respective homeland gazed upon one another; the Edrenian dragoon and the Valheimr dragoness, both serving the enemy, both treacherous turncoats, "..." and yet, through her silent gaze, the latter sent a clear message to the former...

Only one of them would live to see tomorrow's sunrise.

After the unforeseen dismantling of Proudclad, these Valheimr scum must have known that airships wouldn't spare them from Bahamut's wrath. Last time, the Revenant kept them busy enough to save the desert-bound vessel, but this time, what was stopping her? Him and those pathetic excuses of dragoons-...

Thunders raged and rain poured as a mysterious vortex rocked the pirate vessel.

Ah, right. They had another.

"Leviathan...!!" Eve growled as the hydrophilic hydra reared its heads, all four of them, as a cascade of events all occurred in one fell swoop.

Nearby, the pair of former foes were about to be swallowed into the naga's throat and drowned in her abyssal belly, only for the exiled swordsman to come plunging down upon its aquatic scalp with such force, the ether-fueled construct lost its cohesion and spilled out like a shattered water bucket. Though wet, cold, and uncomfortable, it was a much better fate than being pulled into the abyss.

However, Bahamut's Pseudolon wasn't so fortunate, in fact, as Siren's two other heads spewed water jets out of their maws, washing over the deck and throwing men overboard, it quickly became clear what her true intentions were. Including the one that Rudolf had just slain, they were nothing more than distractions...

...while she reserved a single limb to snap its jaws shut around her 'sibling' and dragged her off the ship, away from the skies where the Dragon King reigned, and into her thalassic domain.

"...?!!!!" Now suddenly and utterly abducted into Leviathan's empire, Eve flailed her limbs and flapped her wings to no avail. Though she needed not to breathe as a true Sollan would, it didn't particularly mean she was a capable swimmer, quite the opposite, she was terrible at it. After all, there really wasn't much incentive to learn swimming when one could fly, yet at this very moment, Eve wished she had.

The roaring hurricane and cacophony of battle became a distant muffle as she was completely submerged, helplessly pulled, tossed, and turned... until she came face-to-face with the smirking visage of none other than Siren herself, her 'kin', a fellow abomination of the natural order.

Now that they had laid upon one another with their very own eyes, Eve couldn't help but notice how she looked more like a person than what her other 'heads' implied. Swiftly, Ciradyl's inquiries and Galahad's counsel came to her mind. Floating before her might not be the mindless monster she had assumed the Pseudo-Leviathan to be, but... there was no proof yet, so....

Please be a mindless creature, please be a mindless creature...

"Ah...~ so you're Grayscale, you're so much more adorable than I thought, ...sister, fufu~"

By the Dragon King, why?!

"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you? Poor Grayscale, misguided and deceived, but worry not, dear sister, I'm here to bring you back~"

Gritting her teeth, numerous thoughts ran in Eve's mind, but one reigned above all; she had to convince her brainwashed kin to see the error of her ways, recognize that Valheim was simply using her as a weapon, to be used and disposed whenever they saw fit, and - Bahamut willing - sway her allegiance to the Kirins. It might be a pointless endeavor, but after the promise she made to the azure dragoon, she'd be damned if she wouldn't at least try.

Thus, "Sire-" Eve opened her lips-... "Mmmph?!!" Only to find them being locked shut by Siren's own!

"Hmmgh?!!" Utterly confused and bewildered by the very much unsanctioned kiss, Eve's instincts took over as she saw the gesture as a threat. Ether swiftly built up throughout her body as Grayscale aimed to make like an electric eel and gave Siren a good shock, just to get her off if nothing else.

But then, "N-... nngh..." the flow stopped, despite her intentions, her body refused to cooperate as she twitched limply in Siren's embrace.

Soon after, her mind followed as everything became a blur...

And nothing ceased to matter except to just close her eyes...

So the ocean can put her to sleep...

---

Esben nodded back at Arton as the latter decided to take over the duty of protecting Neve and Ciradyl; even though there was little else that he could see himself doing to contribute for the moment, he knew he wasn't much of a guardian either. He just puled his sword belt off, handing the sheathed weapon over to Neve. "Pass this to Rudi if he makes it on the deck, would you?" he asked, rushing her along.

After covering Neve enough that she could see herself to Arton's protection, he retreated towards where Éliane had set up her gun emplacement. He fired twice, each taking down one of the false dragoons as they flew. That left him with one round left to use in the purloined rifle, and far too many targets to consider using it on.

As he brought the rifle up to one, he heard the Edreni turncoat calling out, and—rather than risk anything unfortunate happening—instantly took cover, bracing himself against the railing as the deck began to be buffeted by a torrent of water spewed by the aberration they'd brought to aid them. In a moment, he saw Rudolf in the air, bearing down on one of the false heads raised out of the water, and another snatching Eve away while the remainder tried to wash them off the ship.

So Rudolf hadn't been able to reach the pseudo-Eidolon in time, then...or hadn't been able to do anything about it.

Mumbling curses to himself, Esben reached into one of the well-worn pockets of his travelling clothes, yanking out tufts of cotton and stuffing his ears with them as a precaution. He quickly turned, raising the rifle at the traitor dragoon—

Iðar, guide my aim...

And fired, before quickly turning again and throwing the rifle like a spear into one of the nearby, opportunistic Valheimer, who folded over it and lay unmoving on the deck. With any luck, something that by all rights he had a surplus of, Valon would find himself either wounded or shocked enough for Izayoi and Galahad to make some real headway in dealing with him. Then, with little else to do, he drew one of his daggers, and let the torrent of water wash him overboard.

He descended quickly, a small stream of bubbles escaping his nose as he righted himself. Despite the slight sting of the salt water against his eyes, he quickly caught sight of Eve, wrapped up in her "sibling's" embrace not far away. The false Leviathan seemed distracted for the moment, focused as she was on Eve and turned away from where Esben had hit the water.

Esben kicked hard, moving quickly through the water. As long as the false Eidolon was turned away from him, he couldn't pass on the slim chance he had to at least break Eve free so that she could pick the fight back up. Once close enough to reach limb or tail of the fake Leviathan, he reached out, one hand to grasp and the other viciously sawing and stabbing at her with his dagger.

---

Galahad barely had the opportunity to blink before Izayoi interjected herself into his and Valon's duel, the ringing clang of steel reverberating across the deck. It gave him the opportunity he needed to collect himself, Valon's words proving his fears right, Valheim was supplying him with some sort of help. Valon was a talented Dragoon, no doubt, but something about his strikes felt heavier than they should've, there was no way he could've grown so much in so little time otherwise. Though Galahad didn't have much time to ponder as the water and boat shook, vicious naga heads appearing as the Siren took to the battle in earnest.

He cursed himself as he caught his footing, Izayoi was right- he was so focused on his duel that he'd neglected everything else happening around them. He trusted the Kirins to be able to fight, and in that regard, they'd done their jobs admirably, but the Valheimr were crafty, using their mobility and range to harry the party from well out of reach of their melee fighters. The water rushing across the decks did little to make things better for them, wild sprays buffeting and threatening to wash the Kirins and their allies away.

Glancing up, Galahad saw the incoming Naga head, Rudolf attached to its base with his blade. Looking back at Izayoi, Galahad moved before he spoke. Armored gauntlets grabbed the Mystrel woman's attention as Galahad tumbled onto his back and shoulders, bringing his legs in and pressing his feet against her.

"There!" Galahad shouted, his halberd pointing at the Rudolf and the Naga heads above them before he braced himself against the ground and kicked his feet as though he were jumping. Wood splintered and Galahad's shoulder strained as Izayoi was launched clear into the air high above the beasts on a trajectory that would take her past the young Rudolf.

"You must have a death wish Caradoc!" Valon taunted him, diving towards the prone Kirin with his spear, only to stop mid charge as Esben's bullet cracking against the metal of his armor, hitting his shoulder and sending him tumbling. The armor bore the brunt of the damage, but gave Galahad enough time to recover to his feet and bring his polearm to bear.

"Eliane!" Galahad's voice cracked like thunder over the din of battle, he glanced at the Skael woman gleefully laying down fire with her newly obtained weapon. He pointed an armored finger at the flying faux-dragoons, peppering away at the Kirins and the crew from on high. "Shift focus! Nail the fliers! Crew! Cover her!"

There was a ring of steel against steel as Valon and Galahad continued their duel in earnest, the younger Dragoon leaping at him again with the spear. His strikes were faster and harder than Galahad remembered, the more experienced Dragoon only managing to hold himself even with the traitor.

"You look like you're getting tired Galahad, perhaps it's time to retire?" Valon laughed, slipping underneath Galahad's guard and lunging with his spear. Galahad grunted and cursed in agony as the heavy dragon killing spear punched clean through his armor, nailing his shoulder to the mast. As Valon attempted to wrench the spear out to deliver a killing blow, Galahad found his opportunity. Galahad's gauntlet clad fist held the spear fast, driving it deeper into his shoulder as he lifted off the ground and drop kicked the traitor Dragoon, the full force of his legs caving in Valon's chest plate and sending the Dragoon flying across the deck.

"Neve!" Galahad's voice strained as he attempted to pull the Valon’s spear out of his shoulder, his blue gauntlet now stained red.

---

The sharp pings of metal resonated all around Ciradyl as Arton deftly maneuvered himself and his shield to match each volley of shots. Each time they had met each other's gaze he seemed to express the same disgust he expressed that night of Mizutani's death. All the same he worked tirelessly to protect her and Neve. She couldn't lie and say being under such directed fire didn't bring up the desire to cease her performance and seek cover. She couldn't do that. The tide of battle was turning in their favor. Who knows what other afflictions would befall them if she ceased?

Connecting this many souls was punishing. Sweat beat down her face as the prismatic cloak around her coalesced into ribbons, dancing around her body growing in size away from her body. There had only been a scare few moments in which she had ever gotten to utilize her gift in such a grand display. Everything she knew about weaving the Aether in this manner had been self-taught. The creature this opposing tune came from threatened to break the thin barrier she had conducted around the minds of those aboard at the slightest sign of weakness.

Arton balanced his attention on Valon's men firing on Ciradyl and keeping a close eye on Neve. There was no telling if they would suddenly shift their focus onto her. The calculation didn't take much time in his head. He would not hesitate to toss the Bard aside if it meant saving Neve instead. Their reduced numbers did make it marginally easier to block or deflect their shots, something he had gotten accustomed to over the course of their journey.

He steadied his footing as the entire ship seemed to shake.

Cold, blue eyes narrowed at the rising monstrosities from the sea. Yet another foe he could do little against. "Do. Not. Stop." Arton keep his eyes firmly on the closest head as he gave his simple command to the Faye behind him. At the point the heads rose from the blue waters, the colorful and immaterial ribbons had split and twisted through deck of the ship. Those within its vicinity would not simply feel the effects of the Siren's song diluted but feel a boost to their combat abilities.

Ciradyl stared up at Rudolf cast into the sky, tempted to call out to him. As before, the ethereal ribbons flickered in response to her distress. "Ciradyl!" Arton's harsh tone snapped her out of such a petty whim. Rudolf could handle himself. She had to believe that for right now. Believe in him.

"ARTON!"

Arton heard Rudolf call his name and felt their eye meet and exchange a wordless conversation. His knees bent and he leaped into the air noticing it was bound to fly just overhead. The gem was snatched just as it threatened to zoom past him. The moment he touched down, he pulled Neve towards close to Ciradyl, hovering over them as the shield was activated just in time. The vicious maw of one of the heads crashed into the barrier, open wide and desperately trying to crush through with its teeth. The rapid onslaught of water parted around them as Arton held his stance, preparing his next move should the shield falter.

Ciradyl's expression soured at the situation unfolding. This was not enough. Everyone needed just an extra push, but she was scared. There had been a strange power building alongside the ballad she performed. Her knees trembled and her knuckles turned white. Now was not the time to be frightened. She had to do something now. Ciradyl closed her eyes as she effortlessly shifted into the beginnings of a new song. Intense. Powerful. Embers of the same prismatic energy that had spread across the deck now were being drawn towards the members of Team Kirin.

Vague, human shapes in a faded white hue and covered in a rainbow-like outline came into view surrounding Ciradyl and hovering just above the ground. A full orchestra of spectres readied their various instruments as Ciradyl slowly opened her eyes. They glowed with a myriad of colors as she struck the first chord. Everything was put forward as the first words of this new aria flowed through them. Her voice saturating the entire zone around the ship as the ghostly orchestra performed perfectly alongside her. A Dreamer's Requiem.

This… eugh, she wasn't awake enough for any of this at all. There'd been weird singing and a fog in her head, then other weird music and… well, no more of that, but maybe that was just the sleep clearing rather than anything else? She'd had to scramble around to find… not her sword, she didn't sleep with that, but Miina had her knife in easy reach. Unfortunately, fighting didn't give her time to dress properly, but this was a boat at sea, and cold. She still had the tunic and pants, that was enough.

…

What the fuck was going on up here? There were… armoured guys flying around everywhere, Galahad's apparent long lost brother or something, some people were missing entirely, uh, giant, snake heads… Eliane still had that huge gun and was using it to shoot down the flying guys?

Less thinking, more fighting. Except… she didn't really… think that there was much that she could specifically do against most of this? Well, nothing that wasn't already in hand, or that she'd not make worse. So… giant… sea serpent heads? You know what? They were shooting water. She could work with this. From painful practice experience, lightning and water were not fun to experience. So, when these were just soaked and giving her a direct line to their internals…

She just forgot how much it was awful to control it in these conditions and not get… everyone. What was single target? It was a good thing that Miina really worked on these so her ice tricks came out pretty enough.

Ah---

She'd been distracted. She hadn't been ready. Everything was moving so quickly, now, that when she'd rushed for the edge of the ship in an effort to try and do something for Rudolf---

The monstrous sea creature's head was already bearing down on her. Its maw already gaping open.

Heroes aren't supposed to allow their fear to conquer them, but in that instant, for only a moment, Robin's heart froze.

The shadow engulfed her.

The jaws snapped shut.

---She hadn't prepared herself. Even knowing that something was down there, she hadn't prepared herself at all. And now she'd pay for it.

It wasn't like she'd be able to tell the old man about this. Not given she was about to die.

Long before she was able to make a name for herself.

Long before she could truly call herself a hero.

All the effort put into her by her old man was wasted.

She'd completely failed her allies, too. In that single instant where she ran to help Rudolf, she'd been doomed.

All of these thoughts crossed her mind in a single instant.

In the fraction of a second that followed, she thrust her blade upwards, burying it in the roof of the serpentine creature's mouth.

Of course she should have caught it. Of course she shouldn't have been caught like this is in the first place. It was failing to follow the teachings she'd received from her old man so closely.

But if she wanted to be a hero, she had to be able to get out of even the tightest and most difficult situations, against all odds.

These jaws tightening around her, this yawning throat threatening to swallow her down and plunge her into whatever awaited her below---

It was dark. Tight. Terrifying.

But how could she say she aspired to be a hero if she really thought this was the end?

Robin gritted her teeth.

By thrusting her sword into the roof of the monster's mouth, she made it so she couldn't be swallowed as long as she held on.

And now---

Magical energy flowed through her blade, growing brighter, and brighter---

---

From the outside, it would have appeared as if Robin had completely disappeared, swallowed by one of the monstrous heads that had erupted from the ocean.

At least, for a few moments.

But then something strange happened. The head began to twitch, then jerked. Something was going on inside of it, near the back of its throat.

A light seemed to be building through its teeth and growing brighter, and brighter.

In an instant, the glow had exploded through the top of its head, then spread out wider, tearing apart its constructed form of water and sending it spraying across the deck of the ship.

Soaking wet, Robin hurtled into the air.

She'd done it! She'd made it out!

It was hard to take everything in, but she'd tried to throw herself in the direction of the boat---

Ah. Hitting the deck wouldn't be any good, not from this height.

The world began to rush upwards around her.

Getting out of being eaten alive by a water monster just to fall and break every bone in her body really wouldn't be a good ending for a hero's story---!

Her left hand lashed out, hoping to find something to wrap around.

To her momentary relief, she found it.

Her gloved fingers wrapped around the ship's rigging, and though the sharp jerk to her arm came close to yanking it out of its socked, aside from a little pain she had otherwise escaped serious harm.

"Aah..."

Se probably should have said something about being too difficult to digest, or something else equally heroic, but for the moment she was just glad to be out and able to rejoin the fight.

Everything became so much clearer at once. Of course Valheim hadn't stopped at just Bahamut. And now they were facing a demi-Leviathan within its greatest domain. Short of the ship capsizing, this was one of the worst possible situations for the Kirins to be in. Izayoi grit her teeth and raised her sword as one thalassic serpent came crashing down towards her and Galahad.

The samurai clutched her uchigatana with both hands, prepared to meet the watery construct when Rudolf came crashing down upon it, clad in the same shadowy darkness that Izayoi had vaguely remembered saving her life back in the desert. His dagger and darkness plunged into the skull, breaking the spell apart into water at the same time Robin savaged the one assaulting her with the opposing element.

Galahad took the opportunity to launch Izayoi into the air, and she adjusted quickly, taking in the view of the battlefield as she rose. Two serpents down. One had retreated into the water with Eve and Esben in tow. Deeply concerning. Miina's lightning assaulted that one in particular, and so Izayoi shifted targets towards the final sea snake, plunging down in its direction as her Wind materia infused itself into her blade, Ciradyl's performance ringing in her ears.

Blessed with the advantage of falling momentum and Ciradyl breaking the limits of what one could usually do with aether, Izayoi crashed through the final snake with a downward slash meant to cleave skulls. The Eidolon's projection dissipated into ordinary water much the same as its compatriots, and the Mystrel landed on deck as Neve's Medica began to mend the wounds of those still on board.

Meanwhile, Esben's rifle toss and Eliane's return fire began to scythe down what pseudo-Dragoons were left until only three remained, frantically boosting and weaving out of the way of the Household Guard's shots. Thankfully for them, Eliane's chaingun clicked empty, having run out of its limited ammunition supply. Even so, Valon frowned as he picked himself up from where Galahad had nearly kicked him off the ship's deck, now bereft of a spear in his hands. He drew his side sword and leapt up atop the ship's mast, surveying the situation. An intake of breath.

"Right." The turncoat decided to himself before raising his voice. "Anyone still alive, we're pulling out! I'm calling in the gunship!" His free hand sent a small burst of Fire magic up into the air with the aid of a materia orb embedded into his armor, serving as a flare to call his air support in. The Valheimr airship drew close to the ocean surface, and Valon leapt straight onto it as his remaining subordinates joined him.

"Siren, fall back! You have our package, get it on board! And Galahad," He shot his former friend a mocking grin. "I'll be wanting my spear back, next time! Don't go losing it before we meet again!"

"You've not attained victory yet!" Izayoi roared up towards the gunship before leaping up to the edge of the ship. "We must retrieve Eve and Esben!" She stared down into the sea where Miina's electricity had surged down towards, raising her katana with both hands.

At her peak, Izayoi would have had no doubts in her ability to split the sea. As she was now...? Wind surged around her blade. It didn't matter whether or not she could. Only that she must.

"I will provide an opening! Cover me, then capitalize upon it!"



The winds around her sword strengthened, beginning to rotate. Izayoi's Time materia gleamed as she invoked it next, speeding the gale's rotation with Haste, the hurricane-like blade beginning to intensify.

"Are you idiots going to gawk, or shoot her? I'm not the one holding a gun!" Valon barked at the trio of assault troops left, who promptly raised their rifle-axes and began to draw a bead on Izayoi, opening fire.

Izayoi leapt from side to side while still charging the attack, trying to evade the incoming gunfire as best as she was able. This was why she never used this technique in actual battle: it simply took too long to prepare outside of an opening gambit! Trying to maintain both of her materia at the same time was providing enough of a strain as it was, slowing her pace to the point where she'd need the aid of her comrades if she didn't want a bullet or five in her back.

After a few more moments, the winds around her sword sped to an acceptable level, and Izayoi halted in place.

"I can guarantee you but a few seconds! Save them!" She yelled towards the rest of the Kirins before bringing her sword down to release the gathered winds. The ensuing wave of air pressure tore a trench straight through the top layer of the ocean, passing next to Siren, Eve, and Esben and stripping the former of the comfort and protection of water around her. The three started to fall, but nature already began to reassert itself, the sea walls already crashing back down to fill the void of ocean that had been displaced. If any among the Kirins were going to make a move, it had to be now.

Alike yet unique, each of the Pseudolons had their own share of abilities in addition to mastery over the element their patron was associated with; Grayscale, as the scion of the Dragon-King, first amongst the Primals, reigned over all the elements on top of her distinct non-elemental destruction composed of raw mana, meanwhile, Siren, just like her namesake, could beguile all but the most cold-hearted individuals. The former presented harm in the most literal manner, while the latter hid her malice behind sweet temptations and deceitful affection.

...and twas' a most depraved power indeed.

"Mnngh..." Though absolutely nothing in Eve's current circumstances would suggest she was in the mood for a kiss, her asexual orientation notwithstanding, the Pseudolon found herself melting under Siren's embrace. At point-blank range, the full potency of Siren's supernatural allure was overwhelming her body and mind, more like a puppet on strings being forced to act against its will. Her consciousness was drifting away, in but a moment, she wouldn't even be cognizant enough to care-

"?!!-..."

-and then Siren suddenly stopped, just within inches of pacifying her sister for good. A silent gasp left through her breathless lips, her body jerking as jolts of stinging pain rushed up her spine. It only took a single glance at her ribcage to find the tip of a dagger poking through, liquid ether coating the metal before it mixed with seawater. "...!" Swiftly, her lengthy tail instinctively wrapped around Esben's torso and arms, squeezing at him like an anaconda as she released Eve and turned to face him, staring at the Skaelan dead in his eyes.

"...~" Though the Leviathan Pseudolon muttered not a word in response, the grin she bore on her face spoke of rage and desire in equal measure. Whatever response she had for the SEED's meddling in her mission, he could rest assured that it wouldn't be conducive for his health, physical and mental.

However, before any of them could do anything else, a bolt of lightning struck from above, traveling through the one remaining hydra-esque aquatic limb as it swiftly homed into the blue-haired Pseudolon... and due to the physical contact, Esben as well. To make matters worse, it came from the Red Mage who had her prowess elevated by the Faye Diva's song, resulting in a not insignificant amount of pain.

"Aaaaagh!!-..."

As he was literally electrocuted while fully submerged in the sea, Esben would find it extremely difficult to control his breaths, perhaps even impossible, and to pour saltwater on the wound, Siren's deafening wail of agony rattled his skull like a battering ram. Even as the Faux Leviathan herself was on the verge of losing consciousness from her injuries, the fact remained that her tail was still wrapped fast around him.

Esben might ask himself, was this all worth it, trading his life to save a weapon of the enemy? Surely pragmatism would dictate that in a conflict between powers of asymmetrical strength, a strategist would be far more valuable than a war dog, and SEEDs should be nothing but pragmatic.

So... why?

"ESBEN!!"

That was also the question that Eve had running in her mind, even as she clumsily reached out her hand to grab Esben's arm...

...before the very sea was split apart around them.

She didn't know why, nor how, but whoever forced Bahamut's domain into Leviathan's territory would have her gratitude, but before that, she had to capitalize on this chance and fly off toward the sky, storm-wracked as it might be currently, twas’ still a better place to be than this thalassic abyss.

First, she wrapped all ten of fingers and both palms around the agent's lower arm, then booted the limp Siren off his body as she sank into the yawning abyss, and finally-

"H-...heavy!"

-struggled to compensate for his weight with her meager strength, desperately flapping wings barely able to maintain their altitude, let alone gaining some; meanwhile, the parted ocean was already closing in on them. By Bahamut, of all the things she had that was accurate to the young girl she appeared as, why must it be brawn?!

One could say it was the price she had to pay for her sheer talent at wielding all manner of elemental powers or perhaps it was the consequence of being prematurely released from the facility, whatever the case, she could really appreciate some help right now!

---

He grasped on to the larger girl's ankle, pulling himself up rapidly towards her. Dagger first—and the blade sank deep into Siren's side with barely any resistance. Before he could draw the blade back, he rapidly found himself bound by the woman's long, cerulean tail, barely keeping his left arm free of it as she turned his way, releasing Eve and letting her float back a short distance. Thus far step one of the plan had been a resounding success—now came step two, where he had to fight to keep himself alive long enough for Eve to actually get back in the game.

Siren's lascivious grin didn't deter him in the slightest. Whatever she may have tried to worm into his mind, he was confident he could resist, both prepared for it and long past trained to resist all sorts of techniques of persuasion, interrogation, and the like, mundane or magical. If anything, it was encouragement enough to know that she'd underestimated the team she'd been called to come and fight, and so long as he continued to play at her game, she would likely continue to underestimate him until it was entirely too late for her.

Right hand still firmly on his dagger as Siren twisted to face him, he reached out, grasping at her hip and thigh with his left, pulling her in. The dagger sank in again, each wrapped in the other's deadly embrace—sharp as it was, he knew he could continue to hurt her just with the bit of movement left in his wrist, cutting and twisting as Eve regained her strength—



Esben's teeth ground together hard enough that he began to worry one might crack as every muscle seized instantly. His nerves erupted in fire, enough that he barely felt as Siren's tail and grasp tightened around him, involuntarily moving to crush him rather than just hold him in place. Her wailing buffeted past the cotton he'd stuffed in his ears to drown out her song, tearing away at whatever damage had only just begun to heal that the undead warrior deep in the desert had done to his head not even two weeks prior.

He dimly registered something cracking under the forced contraction of Siren's tail. A rib, maybe; hopefully not his arm. His own grasp on her tightened as well, fingernails easily breaking through her skin as the line of sight between them was broken for the moment by a stream of bubbles as his and her muscles both forced the air out of his lungs, past his clamped jaw. Aether welled up around his hand, the warmth of it striking against her cold skin; spurred on by the energy threatening to burn them both out his hand clenched tighter, fingers themselves digging in.

Easily.

Too easily.

Her pallid thighs gave way to his blade and hand both without nearly the resistance he would've expected. He latched onto the thought, forcing his mind to follow the singular topic despite the wailing and the pain. Whatever had been done to give her the appearance of liveliness and youth, there was no mistaking how shockingly easy it had been to deliver some harm her way. The skin was smoother than it should have been, but growing up on the coast, Esben was more than familiar with the sort of macerated flesh he encountered here.

A corpse!

As the surge wore down and he could reassert some control over his body, he twisted his dagger immediately, widening the wound it had made beyond what their convulsions had already caused it to do. Jaw still clenched tight enough to hurt all its own, the look in his eyes had shifted; brows drawn down, eyes narrowed, Esben's face was a mask of cold, righteous fury at the abomination that still held firm against him. Even as he struggled to stay focused, vision starting to grey and blacken at the edges, he was utterly convinced of the need to destroy what floated before him, regardless of whether Eve still entertained any thoughts of trying to 'rescue' one of her fellow experiments.

She was barely different from what they'd run into out in the desert. A drowned corpse, reanimated with power that should never have been handled in such a way as Valheim felt itself entitled to do. Filthy draug, even if you drown me you're not swimming away from here either!

Fingers wrapped around his free arm, unnoticed, as he let go of Siren's thigh; while her body may not have been the turgid cadaver he'd seen growing up, it was entirely too close for comfort. He struggled to pull his dagger free as his vision blackened, his only thoughts on finding whatever kept her from dying outright and making sure she would die for good—

The pressure around his face and body released, and where they'd been floating, now he could feel he was falling. He coughed, vision rapidly returning as he breathed deeply. Weight hung off of him, far more than his clothing—he could see again just in time to catch sight of Siren's limp form falling below, landing in the water beneath them.

Beneath?

He still held his dagger in a vice-like grip, and despite the protestations of pain all over his body he brought it back to its sheathe.

"H-...heavy!"

"Eve?!"

They were flying. He was hanging, nearly limp, from one arm, Eve struggling to keep them aloft.

The waters had been parted around them, he could see; they weren't terribly deep to begin with, but whoever had gotten the abyss away from them certainly gave themselves quite the margin of error. But the displaced water was rapidly filling back into the space it had just been forced out of, and even as close to the surface as they were, that was still making for the equivalent of a ten foot wave ready to strike them.

He tried to pull his body up a bit, to curl in and take up less space, and cursed as his muscles spasmed, erupting in new pain and driving the breath back out of his lungs with a pained growl. He could feel blisters already starting to well up in his hands; likely everywhere he'd been in contact with Siren he'd sustained some sort of electrical burn. Wherever he didn't, he was still aching and fatigued, muscles slow to respond like they should.

This must be what getting hit by lightning is like.

Still, the plan had gone off fairly well, minus the unexpected electrical intrusion. "Well, that was shocking, wasn't it?" he joked weakly, speaking quickly, eyes on the water that was quickly moving to meet them from both sides. "Get us up over this if you can, I'd rather not risk getting crushed a second time. You can swim back to the ship or we can both float and wait for one of the others to get out to us, ja?"

@Izurich@Marlowe@Ithradine@Psyker Landshark

Impact.

His teeth clattered together as, their complaints fully evident in the burn of muscle and rattle of bone, his legs absorbed the last bits of shock left as he and the torrent of water crashed into the side of the hull, the head of the Naga construct having lost its shape on impact and cascaded down in his wake. His knife bit deep into the wood like a driven nail as the falling seas buffeted his back, forcing his screaming lungs to hold air tight once more—

And then, mercifully, abate as they returned to themselves, leaving only the wood, the rain, and the panting young man, soaked to the bone and exhausted enough that all he could do, aside from the aforementioned fight to just get air back in his lungs, was stare blankly into the pommel capping off the hilt that both hands hooked to. While his grip dominated what was left of his focus, his arms were slack, his boots finding their purchase on the hull at the base of what well could have just been a deep squat, provided a ninety degree shift in orientation.

There he hung. Eyes almost half-lidded. Breathing, a raw, salty wheeze. Off the side of one ship, trying to right another.

He had believed the shadowy flames that burned where the light in his soul ought to have been to just be something that sprouted from his person, heralding a specific summoning like the shield, or otherwise a raw globule of weighty, lingering pitch and fire, liable to inadvertently burst if he wasn't careful in the extreme— now that he'd let the genie out the bottle, anyway. But that moment up there, even as he'd struck a lethal point on the beast the construct had been modeled after, roughly...

His eyes fought to focus their attention onto the dagger properly.

That time, the response had been to his specific emotion, running along the current of his will as it had flooded his armament. If he could do that once, then... maybe again. If he had to. Might be a workaround for the curse on his "main" armament, still with all the rest of his shit somewhere on deck. He hadn't heard it spill over underwater, and he was pretty sure the sword would, if nothing else, be good enough a paperweight that it had managed to not let anything get swept away.

Anything else would be just... terrible luck, really. Surely even his would have its limits.

Crashes, gunfire, shouting voices, a real clamor overhead. A newer, and yet bolder, song in his ears, backed by full orchestration that he knew Ciradyl didn't have on hand— And a white light, its gleam peeking over the edge of the railings. Good... that meant he'd gotten the materia to Arton in time. The Naga heads were gone, too...

...

Izayoi's voice up there. Shouting... Urgent. Fight wasn't over. Leviathan wasn't yet dealt with, and the airship was coming in close.

Much like Robin, the only one he could see from this angle up on the rigging, he didn't have time to rest or whimper about how damn soaked he was— the fight needed rejoining.

He clenched his teeth, and pooled his remaining strength into his limbs...

And ripping the knife free from the hull to do it, the young man launched himself up the rest of the way, landing close by Neve, Arton, and Ciradyl, the latter still very deep in her song, the former's staff still aglow with White Magic.

"Good, thank Etro." he breathed, voice a ragged, half-exhausted rasp as he drew up alongside Arton, thumbing the pommel of his knife. "It got to you in time, everyone's..." his voice trailed off, as he grimaced and wiped his soaked platinum mop out of his eyes with his free hand.

Why did something feel wrong about this setup? His mouth pulled into a grimace, rerunning the head count. Arton, Ciradyl, Neve... oh hell.

"Where's Esb—"



The crack of rifle fire resumed, one bullet whizzing past Rudolf's very nose close enough that he could hear the snap in its wake.

"Ssssshit," he hissed, discarding the question on his tongue as he started forward again. He couldn't ask more of the others, each one already working— least of all Arton, who stood guard over the two support players.

His sword. He couldn't block bullets with just a damn knife, no matter how good a knife it was. If he could at least get ahold of the greatsword again, he could at least use the damn thing to cover space, obscure Izayoi's blurring but trackable form— Where the hell was it? Still by the mizzen? He'd have to cut aside—

His boot touched something.

Kicking it up, he found his hand gripping the oblong hilt of one of the Valheimr axe-rifles. He'd never used a firearm, personally, but any port in a storm— his finger closed around the trigger and squeezed, roughly aiming the barrel at the chest of one of the crouched gunmen on the nearby airship, as he would a crossbow—

Click. Nothing. No smoke, no bellowing report, no kick in his palm.

Seriously?!

With a snarl, he wrenched his arm back and hurled the damn thing downrange, as though an odd-weighted Tomahawk. More of those blackened embers spun along the length of the blade, but they were fainter, and he held no great hope in hitting the mark with strength alone.

A sag in his shoulders. Slight, hard to spot concealed beneath the tension of this still very pitched battle, but there.

"Go," he barked over his shoulder to the burlier swordsman, voice dripping with acrid, bitter helplessness, "Cover her. I'll keep watch over here. Please. Sorry."

---

Crack.

The projected orchestral figures splintered soon the last of the hydra heads were vanquished. A sharp pain shot across the Faye's expression that caused her to stagger in place. Her vision became distorted, uneven as if everything around her was spinning and bending in impossible ways. It was too much. The bow stopped sliding across her violin's string and her voice grew quiet. The phantom figures that had join in her grand performance fractured further and soon shattered into nothingness.

"Ru..dolf..." Delirium has clouded her mind as she looked at him with a happiness that defied their current situation. A thin trail of blood ran from her nose as her movements felt weighed down. She stopped when her eyes caught sight of Esben and Eve barely hovering in the air. Izayoi's words were muddled but she understood enough that something had to be done. The moving water was hard to look at in her current state, but even so she stepped towards railing. "I will...I..." Ciradyl felt her legs give out first and she fell, barely able to brace herself as her shoulder struck the deck. Her eyes vaguely looked out towards the water before fluttering shut.

Arton checked over Neve and Ciradyl briefly to ensure that nothing that managed to break through and hit them. He had no illussions that one of them would have been seriously injured had Rudolf's materia not arrived in time. The very man in question flew briefly into the air and landed solidly in front of the three. "Yeah, we're okay here for the moment..." He had been about to thank him when a chilling sensation shot along the length of his spine and his gaze quickly turned to Ciradyl. The sudden absence of the music twisted something in his stomach. "Ciradyl! Are you alright?" He called out to her but she didn't even glance in his direction.

The sound of gunfire breaking out prompted him to action once more and he quickly positioned himself in front. His shield blocked a stray shot, the fragments peppering into the wooden deck. It was then he heard Izayoi's voice call out her plan and immediately after the sound of something hitting the ground. Arton tried to glance back to check on them but the force of a couple more bullets breaking upon his shield prevented him from diverting his attention.

His master was caught wide open drawing all of the aggression towards herself. The moment Rudolf's offer processed in his mind, he found himself charging forward. "Keep them safe!" His eyes narrowed as he closed in to where Izayoi was standing. What else could he do but be his master's shield in this moment?

The massive form of Arton came between Izayoi and the shooters, deflecting a shot that seemed to have a good read of on her movements. His barrier activated and from there he made short work of the incoming volleys of fire. The training he had done with the limbtaker was constantly running through his mind. It was surely something he would never mention to Neve about. He couldn't give her another reason to worry. Arton grinned slightly as the frustration grew in the riflemen.

What?

He understood that Izayoi was a master of the sword but this? Arton felt honored...no blessed...to be under her tutelage. A grimace quickly came over him as the parting waves revealed Esben and Eve. There was nothing he could do for them that wouldn't end up just adding another body to the pile. Besides the armor and heavy clothes that protected him, the swordsman was never that strong of a swimmer and he doubt he would be able to fight against the wicked current.

Incredible.

It was one of those sights she'd really only dreamed about. The sea parted before her eyes.

In an instant, the threat lurking within was laid bear. In an instant, that opening had been created, just as promised.

---But it wouldn't last.

Robin took a deep breath. From her position, she could see Esben and Eve, now. With enough momentum, she was pretty certain that she could do it, and that she was the person in the best position to try.

She sucked in a deep breath. Either this would end with them both in the wate,r or she'd be able to help Eve and save Esben's life.

Given the stakes, the odds didn't really matter to her.

Besides, what kind of person would she be if she didn't try?

Certainly, not a hero.

Robin raised her feet, braced herself on the mast for a moment, and pushed off---

The salty air rushed past her as she swung downwards, reaching out. Her training honed speed more than raw power, but like this, she was certain that she'd be able to get Esben to safety---!

… maybe she was still dreaming? The sea being split in two was… hm, no, it definitely wasn't one of her dreams, too violent and with far too many people she wouldn't usually dream about. Which meant Eve and Esben had been underwater and were now… well, Robin had the heavy one, so maybe they were fine? It was a shame Eliane hadn't been with them too, that would have made for some nice poetry.

Unfortunately, that probably meant she should do something and stop crouching behind a magical barrier to protect herself against bullets. Sure, they would probably be fine, but swinging like that meant going fast, and she was pretty sure Robin wasn't practised at jumping from high places because she'd gone climbing and gotten stuck again… or maybe Esben would just go through the boat.

So, what to do? The only things really in abundance were water or air, and while she could probably do something more reliable by thinking about the wind, she was tired and grumpy and they just needed to slow down. And she knew how to do that, too, even if it wasn't something she'd really had any confidence in because the only enemy they'd fought since meeting she wanted to slow down would probably have just shrugged it off.

But it seemed pretty unlikely Robin would. Or maybe she'd just recognise it was Miina casting and not resist? Either way, one Slow coming up.

Hopefully they wouldn't go splat, then she could go back to sleep.

---

Whirrrr…

Despite the utter and absolute chaos that the ship and its passengers were being subjected to, Éliane was having the time of her life as she cackled with glee, aiming at the flying very human skeet targets as she peppered them with a hail of bullets with each press of her minigun’s trigger. The sound of rounds leaving the multi-barreled weapon was music to her ears, a symphony to match Ciradyl’s opera.

The Valheimian losers fell to her might, scythed down by a weapon of their own making.

The battle itself wasn’t going too great, but at the rate Éliane was reducing their targets, it might not have mattered…

Whirrrr… klunk.

Until the last of the ammunition belt was fed into the gun and ran dry. Éliane gaped as she pointed the weapon, its barrels already spinning down.

It was empty.

Immediately a wave of depression hit her as she reluctantly released her hands from the trigger… and then immediately grabbed it again, hanging onto it for dear life as… the battle developed not necessarily to the Kirin’s favor. Izayoi had literally split the sea.

That was a terrifying feat to behold on a normal day, but on a wooden barbarian pirate ship out at sea in the middle of a battle, the sensation of their only lifeline being knocked about was a contrast to the high that she had just experienced. She lurched forward as the ship rocked, tripping as she did so and landing on her gun as a result. The back end of the weapon smashed into her gut, making her retch as she keeled over in pain.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to rise. They were still in battle, and even as the ship was knocked about, the Valheimian airship had closed and was continuing to fire on them. She was in no position to immediately help the others, but she could still shoot.

Still coughing as bile threatened to rise up from within her, she switched to the rifle she still had, unslinging it from her back. From this distance, the engines and sensitive bits of the ship were all but exposed to any talented shooter. Steadying herself to the best of her ability, she braced herself and lined up her gun at the ship. Even with the unsteady platform, shooting through the windows of the bridge was child’s play for any member of the Household Guards, let alone herself. Slamming the bolt back in place after briefly checking her weapon, she aimed, and put several rounds through the bridge windows, shooting at the Valheimian officer still at the helm. She then switched targets, finishing off the remainder of the ammunition in her rifle on the optical rangefinders of the airship, shattering its glass construction.

Then she reloaded—this time with her favorite explosive ammunition. How nice would it be if she could get a golden BB and blow apart the engines from those exposed intakes?

She shot again.

---

"Etro be damned, what now?!" Galahad grunted as the ship began to rock harshly. In a moment like this, Galahad was almost glad that he was pinned upright to the mast. Almost. He saw and felt Neve's healing light slowly filtering across the deck and took the opportunity to rip Valon's spear out of his shoulder. Blood spurted for but a moment before Neve's spell sealed it, soothing the wound and dulling the pain, though not completely.

The mess happening around them was hardly a hopeful sight, but it was a far sight better than where they were a few moments ago. At the very least Valon and the remnants of his faux-dragoons were pulling back, though the Kirins still had a Siren in the water to deal with. In the chaos of the fighting, Galahad hadn't realized that Esben too had been sent overboard, but a quick glance to the side of the ship displayed the Kirins' current rescue efforts. Unorthodox was something of an understatement, as Izayoi had literally split the sea, sending the two flailing Kirins high into the air. Arton and Rudolf covered their allies, as Miina prepared spell and Robin used speed in an attempt to reach them before Eve and Esben fell back into the sea. Unfortunately, Galahad could already see the angle of her swing, she'd miss them by a mere foot or two.

Ignoring the pain on his shoulder, Galahad sprinted for the side of the ship, his eyes darting between Robin, Eve, Esben and the Siren as he rushed a series of haphazard calculations in his mind. A long shot, but the best plan he could figure to keep everyone relatively alive and unscathed.

Deck wood splintered and cracked as Galahad kicked off the deck, his body hurtling past Robin, and towards Eve and Esben. As he passed by the two falling Kirins, Galahad planted his foot on Esben's back, and kicked off of him, pushing the two into the swinging Robin's grasp, and him careening into the water.

Armor and water hardly mixed, but as Izayoi's cut had removed some of the water from the equation, it allowed Galahad to crash into the water but an arm's length away from the inert Siren. On another day, at another time, Galahad might've considered what he was about to do to be disrespectful of the dead and dying- but with water threatening to fill the void and crush him beneath its weight, it was hardy the time to worry about that. Galahad muttered a short apology of sorts as he more or less climbed on top of the sinking body and used it as a surface to jump off of.

Not nearly as good as solid ground, but infinitely better than trying to jump on water, Galahad got just enough air to avoid the crashing water, waves pulling at his feet as a dull thunk was heard against the side of the ship. Embedding his halberd and dagger into the side of the ship, Galahad's shoulder radiated pain, as he used the two weapons to slowly climb his way back up to the ship's deck. Galahad rolled onto the deck with an ungainly thunk, perhaps less than graceful then expected of one of his station. It was times like these where he envied the Eve's ability to basically fly.