BOOOOM—!!
Another blast of purple dragon fire tore across the island, lighting up the trees, the stones, the sky, and basically everything except the one guy standing right in the middle of it with his back turned like he was posing for a music video.
Nico stood near the center of it, eyes closed, a shotgun in his hand, and the cloak fluttering in the heat.
If anyone else tried this, they'd be extra-crispy.
But he just breathed through it like it was a warm shower.
Perks of the Familiar Bond:
Immunity to Nom-Nom induced apocalypses.
And as the flames thinned, the silhouette of Nom-Nom, back in her human form, stepped out of the dying blaze
"Master… the clothes are still here," she said, holding up the hem of her t-shirt.
Nico exhaled the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding before turning around with a relieved kind of tiredness.
"Cool..." he said, giving her a once-over before his gaze paused on the shoulder where Luke had left that nasty gash. "And your wounds?"
"All healed," she smiled, though her expression dipped a little as she poked the spot on her arm where the knife had gone in, "But I can still feel them. It's… weird."
"That's called phantom pain," Nico said, waving a finger like a doctor who got his degree from YouTube. "Potion fixed the body, but your brain hasn't gotten the memo yet. Nay, system?"
And right on cue—
Ding!
{Correct.}
Nom-Nom nodded like she understood everything.
Nico nodded, thinking Nom-Nom understood everything.
And the moment passed.
But far from that warmth, aboard the warship drifting south of the island, time moved slowly, stretching thin like a bowstring pulled to its limit.
Inside the command room, Captain Thane stood, hands locked behind his back.
His fists were so tight the veins stood out along his knuckles, but he didn't loosen them.
Not while the island below still burned in the afterglow of dragon fire and collapsing earth.
Not while silence settled over it like the breath before a disaster.
Behind him, Nymira's voice carried across the room.
"Team Laps's signatures have stabilized," she said from inside her crystalline pod, her form suspended in the fluid-light haze of runes that circled her like a soft orbit. "They're alive... Injured, but alive."
"Prepare our armaments," Thane said through clenched teeth. "Relay that to the other vessels. We stop that dragon here… or we sink trying."
"Command acknowledged," Nymira replied, nodding her head as the runes around her began to brighten.
Circles of light spun faster and faster, humming like the ship itself was waking from a slumber.
A deep vibration thrummed through the hull of the Southern Vigil as Nymira lifted her gaze, eyes glowing with data-stream's light.
"Captain… would you like to hear our projected chances of victory?"
Thane inhaled deeply as he stared at the burning island, the reflection of purple fire flickering across his eyes.
"No," was all he said.
And outside, the Southern Vigil obeyed without hesitation.
Runes flared to life along the length of the hull, thin at first, like faint veins glowing under skin before brightening into sharp, geometric lines that spiderwebbed across the steel plates.
The ship's engines growled a low, bass-heavy thrum that vibrated through the ocean itself.
Massive double-barrelled mana cannons on the upper deck snapped into motion, all synced to Nymira.
Each cannon sat atop a rotating platform, and each cannon was capable of 180-degree vertical motion, allowing them to engage from any direction with a never-ending stream of long-range spell-fire.
"Arcane Reservoirs at eighty percent," Nymira announced from the command room, her voice echoing through the comm-lines.
"Mana chambers stabilizing. Charging primary Rail-Gun."
Along the ship's prow, a massive, rune-carved barrel nearly the size of a house unfurled from its armored cradle.
Layers of protective plating peeled away one after another, like a mechanical flower exposing its heart.
A faint blue glow radiated from the runes engraved across it, each symbol pulsing in sync with the ship's core as arcs of electricity began crackling around the weapon as it reached its maximum output, loading in a solid shell of Adamantium coated with Dragon's Rot.
Even the clouds above seemed to shift uneasily as the weapon designed solely to counter dragons came to life.
Further out, Luke's smaller ship responded in kind.
His vessel was sleeker, predatory in design, built not for war but for pursuit.
But a Pantheon ship was still a Pantheon ship.
Its armaments were nothing to scoff at. Racks of spell-charged cannons rotated into position along the deck, each one tipped with crystalline heads glimmering with layered enchantments.
Magic sigils flickered to life across its hull, forming a rapidly moving grid of shimmering blue and white.
The ship almost looked alive as mana surged through its entirety, all synced and linked to its Soul at the Command Room.
"Confirming Soul synchronization between ships. Targeting protocols aligned." Nymira reported as both her and the Soul of Luke's vessel synchronized.
"Good," Thane replied with a nod before giving a brief glance toward the crew.
"All of you… proceed to the Safe Room."
He didn't have to repeat himself.
Every single Scholar or support personnel, sitting at the consoles, practically leaped out of their seats the moment the words left his mouth.
Pantheon ships didn't need a human crew.
The Southern Vigil moved because Nymira willed it.
Luke's vessel moved because the girl floating inside its pod wanted it to.
Humans were only here for paperwork, logistics, and wiping spills off the deck.
And when battle comes rolling across the waves…
You got in the bunker and prayed the ship survived.
So, one by one, the crew filed out until their footsteps faded down the hall toward the Adamantite Safe Room.
A room of enchanted metal capable of detaching itself from the ship and floating upward in the event that the whole ship sank.
And soon the command room was silent.
Only Thane remained, standing rigid at the center, eyes fixed on the burning island, not even allowing himself to blink.
Behind him, Nymira's voice came through the but this time it wasn't one voice.
It was layered, doubled, like two Souls speaking in unison.
"Captain," they said, "... movement detected. Armaments ready. Requesting permission to engage."
Thane's heartbeat pounded once hard against his chest as he inhaled slowly, letting the breath settle deep, before -
"Rain Hell!"
And the next second—
- BOOOOM—!!