White headlamps carved a path through the inky waves as night fell over the ocean. Light splashed over the bulkheads like a sea of tar. The hum of tides didn't hush. Instead, it simply hid in velvet darkness, staying just beyond the eye's reach.
The deluge turned into a drizzle, soft and light yet thick as smoke. The persistent drumming ceased. Now, only the rusty creaks of old partitions and low growls of exhausted engines lingered, slowing down. The world turned strangely monotonous. The same palette stretched up and down for countless miles: water, clouds, and horizon. All black as pitch.
A faint orange glow from the cabin's tumblers and analogue panels was the only source of light. It cast a fiery glow onto the sunken faces of the crew: too weary to rest, too drained to focus. They were stuck in a limbo between unease and apathy.
The captain dozed off every couple of minutes, awoken by the clicks of a venerable radar and ripples in the white noise on an outdated, scrappy radio. The tape player whispered, filling in the void with distant music that sounded too heavy. Something about the rock-and-roll blending with the woeful taps of the tides against the hull left a dismal taste.
Mae, perched on the cold bench, tapped the recorder absentmindedly, lost in deep thought. The tune from the player couldn't distract her from the weight of boredom. Her blue eyes shifted to her friend, who was focused on scribbling furiously in her notepad.
She bit down on her pen in frustration and threw her head back. Then, suddenly sitting upright, she quickly jotted something in her notepad, only to scratch it out after pausing to consider. Her hand hovered uncertainly over the page as she hesitated on what to write next.
The researcher shrugged on her speckled parka, the worn fabric pocked by cigarette burns and dotted with patches. She drained her thermos of strong tea in a single gulp, filling the cramped air with the sharp aroma of herbs mixed with a faint, woody note.
They stepped outside, pulling their jackets tightly and angling their faces away from the sheets of rain pouring through the gaps above. The blonde followed her friend as they hurried behind the fenders, shuffling toward the prow to take shelter under the blinding headlamps. Mae leaned against the handrails, flicking her brass flip lighter in her grasp.
Two girls stood in silence, staring into the dark waves below. White glimmers played in the black mirror. The greaser broke it first, voice tired and distant.
Hazel let out a sigh, as if she'd heard the question before it could even have a chance to come.
A distant thunderclap echoes somewhere in the distance, lighting up the black seas.
the blonde rattled on.
There was no response. Just a restrained shrug. And so she pressed on. <...If something's going to change.>
She turned around, eyes rimmed with exhaustion, brown gaze flicking to the cabin, wary and raw, then back to Mae,
Mae tapped the lighter shut, cupping the cold brass in her palm. The wind tugged at her jacket.
She leaned on the fenders, her body turned away slightly as she spoke, almost to herself. There was no spite, no disappointment in her quiet tone, only dry acceptance.
Hazel's eye twitched at her words.
Hazel loudly exhaled, rubbing her tired eyes.
Mae didn't respond. Just looked ahead with whatever little hope remained. It didn't hurt. It stopped years ago.
the researcher continued. More to herself, like she's admitting sins.
Mae shrugged, leaning on the headlamp.
the researcher admitted, words weighted with guilt, pulling her hood lower to hide.
she continued, still throwing glances at the captain's nest.
The deck creaked under their feet. Somewhere far below, a chain tapped on the hull, letting out a mournful jingle.
The blonde stared at the water for a while before divulging.
A whiff of brine and diesel made her nose twitch as she whispered,
Mae didn't reply. There was no sorrow. Just quiet acceptance.
Hazel clicked her lips, watching Mae carefully to guess her thoughts. And so she tried to console her.
her friend whispered back.
Another awkward pause. More telling than a thousand words.
she finished, voice breaking.
Hazel crooned, her shoulders slumping as she spoke,
the researcher whispered under her breath.
They stood there in silence until the orange light grew dim.
Hazel let out a heavy sigh, gathering the courage to look at her. < We'd better get back to the cabin. Before the captain starts getting wrong ideas.>
Mae pulled a little smile. A force of habit to water down the taste of sour feelings, leaving a bad taste on her tongue.
She took a long puff, sending a thick white cloud into the air.
The researcher turned around, giving her a glare of uncertainty. There was no staunch determination that she was so used to putting on in front of her Pokémon. The mask slipped down for just a moment, leaving her bare.
He knocked on the porthole to get their attention.
Hazel sighed in sweet relief. But her heart still drummed inside her chest. Louder than it should.
Mae snapped back to her usual self. It came easily. Too easily.
The foreman clicked the window open, gulping in fresh air like cold water. A whiff of cheap tobacco, oil, and diesel seeped outside, blending with the stench of brine and rust.
He cleared his throat.
Hazel cursed under her breath, clearly not in the mood for this. But Mae budged in before she could return the favor,
She snapped back to her merry and carefree self.
The blonde motioned back to the cabin, hopping back under the battered roof to hide away from the rain. The drizzle came down like a veil, so light that it got everywhere. There was no escape.
The northern wind left smears of fog on the musty windows. The storm calmed down. Silence didn't feel any better. Heavy. Booming. Only the creaks of the hull and the distant hum of engines somewhere deep within the bowels broke the quiet. The white noise on the radio faded into a raspy trill.
Hazel hopped on a stool welded to the metal floor, snatching her notebook off the table. The blonde kicked back on the captain's chair, sending it for a sharp spin as she blankly stared into the ceiling.
Dean let out a peaceful snore. Another buck made him heel and flop onto the roll of damp canvas and sink into the sails. The boat wasn't made for comfort.
Mae looked at the tape recorder, nail idly tapping on the metal. Music felt wrong. She chose contemplative tranquility to fill the time. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes to dozens more, all slowly flying, accompanied by drizzle brushing over the cracked, misty glass.
She shook her head.
The researcher raised her brow, throwing a curious glance at her friend.
She tore her eyes from the notepad, sharing a tired smile.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Her lips clicked in disapproval.
Mae went silent for a moment, processing the lecture. Her hand idly aimed the sphere at the console.
She pressed the button, her voice as soft as cotton.
A bolt of white light struck the metal, washing over her face with a wave of warmth. Bright motes swirled through the air, sticking to each other like chips of iron to a magnet. Until they start resembling a creature. The palette shifted, bit by bit.
A tiny yellow reptile, standing on all four, clung onto the panel, stretching his yellow legs. Black frills puffed up, two sails twitching in drowsy stupor. He yawned, showing a mouth full of little needle teeth. Wide blue eyes popped open. Short stubby tail tapped on the glass.
Little grabbers rubbed his face, still feeling sluggish. Clawed fingers scratched the scales as he turned to face the girl.
Helioptile frantically looked around as if expecting some sort of catch. The cabin was too peaceful.
He blinked, a little surprised. Then slowly looked over the helm. His nose twitched, sniffing the stale air. The reptile gagged, choking on the stench. A little too theatrical. The smell of rust, sweat, and tobacco hit him like a tide. His grabber knocked on the console in displeasure.
Before Mae could finish, Citrine yawned again, dextrously scaling the panel like a spider, climbing towards the old exhaust pipe. He wedged himself between the grids where the heat condensed, creating a faint haze, and coiled into a pretzel. His eyes closed shut.
The blonde kicked back, throwing her legs over the desk. It would seem she was not the only one bored out of her mind.
She watched her little friend drift off into sleep. Time stretched out. Worse than before.
Mae tried to keep her eyes open. But with her Pokémon calling quits and Hazel too busy to talk, it was far easier said than done. As minutes passed, her thoughts started to drift off. The black scenery offered little more than apathy. The tumblers seemed just fine. Steady, as she went.
Her mind blanked, teetering on the brink of slumber. The girl didn't notice how she began to fall into a drowsy stupor. Deep and heavy, until a little crinkle woke her up. Not enough to worry. But just enough to bring her back. A little buzz cutting through the crepitation on the speakers.
The blonde turned around with a snort, huddling under the denim jacket. Exhaustion started creeping in again.
She almost fell off a chair, sunglasses slipping out of her pocket and hitting the cold floor with a crack.
Hazel tore her eyes from the notebook. Mae coughed, rubbing her forehead and smearing the makeup all over her face.
They stared at the radio. For a few seconds, it stood completely silent, and only the rustle of white noise filled the quiet void. Until it buzzed again.
Helioptile woke up, tail discontentedly slapping against the hollow pipes. Moody. He opened his mouth in a noiseless sigh.
His owner leaned a little closer, frantically looking for the microphone, her mind still half-asleep.
Mae took the patchy, oversized headset, scrambling to put it on. Her hand slammed on the button that seemed to be connected to the speaker.
Silence. There was no response, just the buzz of interference, coming in like waves.
No answer. The pause lasted a full minute, punctuated by overwhelming silence and the sounds of her own heartbeat.
Hazel froze, waiting for a response. But as the silence settled, she got back to her work.
Mae stirred, batting her blue eyes.
Helioptile blinked, darting towards the console to take a peek at the vacuum tubes, which flickered on and off, shedding an orange glow over the panels. His peepers locked on the amplifier, breathing its last. The machinery was old and long outdated. The weather wasn't helping either. Whoever was speaking on the other side had trouble getting through.
Citrine slipped his claw into one of the sockets. The lamps flickered with a buzz, sending a web of light through his fingers. He shook his head, displeased.
The reptile bit the tube, twisting it a little harder until it couldn't turn any further. Faint lights grew brighter.
The voice, still hardly comprehensible, sounded almost merry.
The static kicked in again, this time so sharp that it made both of them recoil.
Mae exchanged a brief glance with Hazel, her excitement quickly burning out.
The blonde stared at her friend, brow creasing up her forehead. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
Something tapped against the hull. Too rhythmic to be accidental.
Hazel snatched the microphone out of her friend's hand.
A pause. No noise. Just heavy breathing on the other side.
The broadcast perished with a buzz. All of the vacuum tubes went black.
The ship fell silent. Even the engines seemed to shut down. The light went off for a few seconds, even though the power tumblers were glowing green. And then a soft knock on the hull, somewhere deep below the deck. Not screech. Not creak. A sound not unlike a knuckle tapping on the metal.
Silence answered.
The girls didn't move. Just stared at each other.
Another thump, a little louder than before. Surfing Bird lurched, throwing both against the wall and scattering the cups and glasses on the floor. The iron screamed. The bulkhead shrieked. A hiss of liquid filled the creeping quiet.
The captain woke up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head. A splotch of red painted his palm.
A shriek of static pierced the radio. The wires hummed, shooting out sparks and coils of black smoke. A faint orange glow lit up the lamps for one last time.
The vacuum tubes popped one by one, filling the air with a pungent stench of char and burnt-out electronics.
The rustle downstairs turned into a howl of water coming through.
Citrine snapped to it first, hopping off the panel and beelining toward the hold. The dextrous reptile slid down the handrails, flopping onto the nearest bunk. The rest of the crew was either still asleep or struggling to process what had happened.
Sea water leaked from the pipes, spilling onto the cold floor. Too smooth. Too quiet.
He quickly looked around, leaping onto a fish tank. His grabbers clenched two bucket lids and started slamming them together until the snoring stopped and swearing began.
"What now? I'm trying to-"
The skunk didn't finish. Citrine launched the piece of metal like a frisbee, bouncing off Tinker's head. "AW!"
"What's happening?" Garnet huffed, popping his sore eyes open.
The reptile opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Only a voiceless cough escaped his lips. He pointed at the floor, then tossed another lid onto the metal floor to draw everyone's notice.
"What do we do?" Raboot's question went unheard. Another monstrous creak wrecked through the hull.
Surfing Bird heeled portward, furniture screeched against the iron. Water came in bursts, gushing out of the damaged pumps and cramped engine compartment. There was no time to explain. Valves broke overhead, raining down shelves and lockers. A couple of books flopped into the water. A wooden picture frame crashed into Garnet's head, sprinkling glass and scattering a pinned bug and butterfly collection on the display. He wiped red monarch wings off his snout, slipping back on the floor.
Citrine snatched a piece of sail, leaping onto the clamps and biting the jammed handle, legs helplessly dangling to find support and open up the hatch.
The bunny, wheezing and groaning, threw himself right after, one paw holding his tight bandage, the other grabbing Helioptile's tail and breaking the trapdoor open. A tide of liquid came like a landslide, pushing Garnet back, soaked and coughing.
Old lamps above flickered on and off, shooting sheafs of sparks across the bulkheads. The ship quaked again, throwing Pokémon against the wall. Meowth crashed into Raboot with a yowl, knocking him off his feet. Crates and barrels flipped over, flinging their contents on the floor. A bunk collapsed, blocking the hallway.
The boat screeched, tilting to the portside. Jets of cold water rushed inside like blood through a severed artery, quickly choking up the hold. The lights went out, shrouding the room in darkness. Bilge pumps growled and whined, overwhelmed by the stream.
"Are we sinking?" someone screamed from under the rubble. But there was no time to answer.
Garnet threw himself into the cramped compartment, paws shielding his face from the flow seeping through the large wound in the hull. The sheer volume almost tripped him over.
The bunny crawled a little closer, climbing the pipes, canvas clenched tightly in his teeth. He shoved the fabric into the tear, pressing his foot down as hard as he could. But the water kept on coming, gushing through the gaps and raining down on the crumbling partition. Too strong. Too much. The pressure was enough to bend valves and steel.
Helioptile hooked his claws into the sails, trying to hold still. The feline dashed from under the shattered bunk, back leaning against the breach. Meowth, face bloody from making acquaintances with the wall, desperately piled in to keep the liquid from filling up the bilge.
It burst like a geyser, drawing grunts out of the crew.
"I can't..." Jasper huffed, turning his head away. The flow was strong enough to rip out flocks of green fur.
"Yes, you can..." Inteleon's tail slammed into the plug.
The hare pushed, trying to add her own weight. "Almost..."
As if to mock their efforts, the metal screeched again. The rupture widened. Jets hit with twice the vigor, flinging Pokèmon across the hold like sacks of wheat. The few who stayed let go, sails tearing into bits from strain.
Raboot dived face-first into the frigid water already pooling high enough to reach his neck.
Floragato rushed to the rescue, tossing his vine to pull him out. Garnet retched, frantically looking over the crumbling hull, eyes wild and glassy.
"Is this..." His ears drooped. "Is this it?"
Corroded beams overhead snapped, raining bits of rusty metal. White foam washed over the walls, as cold as ice. The stern heeled down, slowly sucked into the endless black abyss below.
The engines rasped and wheezed, choking the air with sharp gray smoke. Red lamps popped to life, shedding a faint, malicious glow over the wreckage. Cacophony filled the hull, a din of gasps, shrieks, and faint whimpers.
It climbed slowly, inch by inch. Patient and inexorable, dragging the backside of the boat first. The prow lifted up a fraction. Rubble and loose pipes rolled through the floor, plunging into the flooded compartment like a landslide.
Another groan wrecked the hull. As if the metal started bending, twisting the bulkheads and pulling the dying vessel deeper. Opal clenched the ladder, red lights reflecting in her golden eyes. She wasn't looking at the liquid. The membranes in her ears twitched, listening to the faint sounds of dying engines.
It coughed. A wet misfire wrecked the turbines. A growl turned into a quiet rustle. Freezing water rushed in, too hostile even for Inteleon.
"Not yet..." she hissed through gritted teeth.
Dim lighting made everything feel smaller than it should. Or was it pressure crushing down the walls? None could tell in the chaos.
"HOLD ON!" Meowth yelled. But the tide cutting through the hull knocked her over. Things quickly got out of control.
Another wave rushed it, flinging the crates and barrels. Raboot clung to a pipe, desperately gulping for air. He coughed the foaming brine out, his lungs burning like smoldering charcoal.
Panic took reins. The skunk dashed out of the compartment, trampling over the rubble. "I'm not going to die here! To the boats!"
"There are no boats, you dumbass!" Flint shrilled, trying to get the salt out of her eyes. "We're fish food."
"Let's calm down and think..." The hare backed down, watching the wall give way. "Let's..."
The light reflected in her bright pink eyes. She froze, unsure of what to do. None did.
"Petals!" Inteleon yelled, a jet of water showering her from the broken-down pumps. "VINES!"
"There is nothing to grow them from-"
"THEN MAKE IT!" She grabbed the bunny by his scruff, pulling him out of the frigid liquid.
Jasper stood there like a statue, breaths coming out in rasps, eyes wild and frantic. His claws slipped out like that was somehow supposed to save him from the ocean.
"SNAP TO IT!" Opal's shriek pulled him out of shock.
"Okay..." His fingers clutched his floral apron, preparing for the pain to come. "OKAY!"
He pulled, tearing a leaflet off. It made him wince, but the sobering rush of adrenaline dulled the worst of it. The feline looked at the frond, then back at the gaping tear, which was pumping liquid quicker than any of them could drain.
Floragato pressed it into the wall, paws glowing pale green. Strands of viridescent energy coiled around his fingers. Thin fibers split, unraveling like a yarn of threads, each turning into a fragile stem. They soaked in liquid, shifting their forms from little bristles to tree roots. Wherever Jasper touched, his palm left moss and algae growing on the rusty iron.
Water lashed out against him, forcing the cat to cough and shield his face. The stream was strong enough to leave painful lacerations. But he endured, claws pressing into the bulkhead. Vines sprouted from what remained of the apron, growing over the breach like a sprawling net.
The water kept on coming, reaching all the way up to his chin. Another beam broke, sending both Inteleon and Raboot into the foam. The ladder snapped, missing the feline's head by a mere few inches and disappearing in the liquid with a splash.
Cold swallowed the sound first. The world went black. Jasper didn't take his paws away when the tide swallowed him whole. Silence fell for a heartbeat. No trills of dying engines. No creaks of metal. Just bubbles coming out of his mouth. He inhaled in panic, salt burning his lungs like knives.
The cat felt something dive between his legs. He flinched, instinctively bucking against whatever hid under the foam. The shape felt a little too familiar. His heel slammed Raboot in the nose in confusion; the latter hissed out a string of fizz. His fingers grabbed the feline's ankles, sitting him on his shoulders and standing up to lift him. The air pocket shrank with every passing second.
But even with both of their heights combined, the feline's snout barely reached the ceiling. The bilge had almost drowned.
Ten inches left.
The feline gurgled, barely breathing, and pushed himself to the limits. The summoned roots anchored around the breach, knots bulging to cover up the spreading rupture. Vines burrowed through the metal like organic sutures, swiftly closing the cut. But the stream went on, filling whatever remained of the compartment.
Six inches. The prow rouse, stern almost fully underwater.
Jasper shrieked, pouring all the power he had left into the plants. The light dimmed. His head went for a spin. But he clung on, half-crying, half-screaming from the strain and despair. A bark-like crust grew over the fibers. Garnet let out another string of bubbles, running out of air. A painful grip of suffocation bit his throat. Yet he stood still.
Two inches.
The feline's paws shook. A sheaf of green sparks shot out of his fingers, draining his magic dry. His eyes closed shut. A soft breath took off his lips.
This is how we die, he thought. There was nothing left to give.
Two inches.
The realization struck like a piece of red-hot iron. The water stopped.
His paw tapped on the breach. Vines, roots, and algae clogged the tear like a plug, biting deep into the iron.
A hysterical giggle escaped, and a wild-eyed cat. One of murderous exhaustion and relief from shock. He gently nudged his friend to give a signal.
Garnet slipped out, launching toward whatever little ever remained. He reemerged with a miserable gasp, coughing up seawater.
Meowth, still clinging to the pipe above, quietly whimpered, "Holy guacamole."
"What... Now..." Raboot spat the brine out. An overwhelming taste of salt left him gagging.
"The pumps," Flint hissed, finger pointing somewhere below.
"Where?" Inteleon shook her head, hands holding onto the half-broken beam. A deep red gush glistened on her scales.
"Follow me." Meowth dived, grabbing the amphibian by her tail and tugging her towards the jammed machinery.
The cat vanished into the murk ahead, her eyes tightly closed. She navigated by touch, dragging herself through the maze of valves and hoses. Opal fared better, staring through the membranes. Red lights barely reached that deep, outlining the tubes, but leaving her half-blind. Frills opened up, filtering the salty water. She wasn't used to it, but it bought precious time.
The engine, half-submerged, stood silent. The pump housing was wedged between the fallen pipes wrecked by the stream. It wasn't broken. But rags, weeds, and mangled fish choked the grid.
Inteleon knew nothing about engineering; it all looked like an abominable heap of rust and metal. But it didn't take a human to figure out that dead critters and algae didn't belong.
She kicked down, squeezing herself between the engine and the damaged hull. There was barely enough space to move. Her slender body twisted under a painful angle to get closer to the vent. Black fingers pulled the flock of trash protruding from the valve. But it wouldn't budge.
Meowth opened her eyes for just a moment, claws slashing against the plug. It seemed jammed beyond repair.
Opal's digits snapped together, tapping into the cork. She fired. Jets of liquid shot through the old machinery. Flint gagged in horror, letting out a string of bubbles as she watched the iron break apart.
Impellers twitched, then spun, pulling the liquid in. The damaged pump sprang back to life with a pathetic groan, sucking in the debris. The currents changed so quickly that both jerked towards the hungry grid. Meowth barely had time to clutch the pipe ahead, holding them both with surprising strength.
"It's going down!" the bunny shrieked, cackling like a maniac. The air never felt so sweet before as it rushed back into the flooded hold. White foam rushed out, slowly draining the compartment.
Relief hadn't lasted for too long. The ship lurched to the side, slowly but steadily heeling. The water drained, but without the turbines, there was no fight left in Surfing Bird. A tide struck starboard, launching rubble up into the air. The ocean slammed against the hull like vultures drawn to carrion.
"We're going down!" Flint screamed, pulling herself out of the freezing liquid that drained into the broken grids.
Another wave would finish what the flood had started. The boat continued to lean over, threatening to flip upside down.
Garnet stared at the silent engine, vents, and pistons choking on black smoke. He dashed toward the rusted out machinery, feet tapping on the water still reaching up his knees. His paws clung to the pipes, frantically looking the motor up and down. Starters, fuel lines, gears. It all seemed the same to his eyes. Scary and confusing.
"Help me!" he shrilled, brine drizzling off his soaked fur.
Lopunny trudged toward him through the swamp strewn with wreckage. Her legs wobbled from the biting cold, drenched flocks of brown hair plastered to her face.
She hopped onto the power block, tugging the bunny up. The metal felt too frigid. The turbines stood dead.
Raboot swung open the control box, blankly gawking at the severed wires. Sheafs of sparks shot out of the exposed copper. Helioptile leaped out of the rubble, perching on the coney's shoulder like a gargoyle. He nudged, pointing at the damaged electronics.
"This looks important..." Garnet scratched the back of his head, at a complete loss of what to do.
He grabbed the damaged cable, giving Flops a distraught stare. "On three..."
"What are you planning?" She blinked, pink eyes drained and lost.
"I've no idea!" the bunny trilled, voice strewn with panic.
Something screeched above. The beams bent, sprinkling rust over their heads. The angle kept on growing. Trash and rubble slammed into the wall that was becoming the new floor.
"JUST HIT IT!" he yelled, trying to improvise.
Raboot grabbed the cables. The salty water on his paws started to sizzle, bubbling and turning into steam. "ONE!"
"TWO!" The bunny's fingers turned bright orange. His pads melted copper, welding the wire black together. A sharp smell of burnt metal, charred rubber, and rosin filled the air.
He let go when another sheaf of sparks shot him straight into his face, each one leaving a black dot on gray fur. "THREE!"
Citrine bit the wire, frills glowing bright with power. A living, breathing conductor set ablaze by the flow of crackling electricity.
Lopunny slammed her foot into the box. A little too hard. The kick left a dent in the sheet of iron.
The boat fell silent. Only the sounds of waves tapping on the hull outside disturbed the void. Nothing but their own heartbeats, waiting for a miracle. Surfing Bird heeled, losing control. But then, the engines coughed like a drowned man coming back to life. A cloud of smoke filled the room, eye-watering and thick. The machines growled, skidding, shrieking, rasping, but alive. It wasn't smooth. It stirred up violently, pistons shaking up the rusty bulkheads.
Everyone froze. The prow plunged out of the depths, dragging itself across the swirling waves. The lamps snapped back online, so bright that they forced exhausted Pokémon to shut their eyes.
"Well..." Garnet collapsed onto his knees, foaming seawater drizzling out of his mouth. "That was..."
His stare was absolutely wild. Words came out in bits, mixed with coughs and hysterical laughter as both fatigue and relief crashed on his shoulders like a tide.
"A SHORE thing..." He broke into a crazed cackling, falling flat onto the floor.
Flint broke first, writhing on the cold bulkheads with a loud chortle. Everyone joined in one by one, squirming on the flooded bulkheads. Mad. Frantic. But alive.
"What do we say to Yveltal?" Even Jasper let out a shameless titter, crawling closer to his friend, claws clutching his arm to celebrate the triumph snatched out of the hands of death. He fell next to the bunny, drained and spent.
"Not today," Inteleon sighed, blankly gawking at the ceiling.
"How did we even..." Lopunny panted like a train, white dust covering her fur.
"WHO THE FUCK CARES!" Meowth babbled, snorting in half-delirium. "We are alive..."
"Alive..." Raboot murmured, his paw looping over Floragato.
The ship went on. Wounded, battered, yet afloat. Being so far away from shore, there was only one way left to go. To leave it all to chance.
The tides have fallen silent. The laughter blotted out the sounds of the grim ocean roiling outside. None noticed when a soft scraping sound echoed against the hull, like a distant whisper against cold metal.
A close call.