The Santa Isabella trembled as Maria, the Siren, floated in the air, her sphere of swirling water shimmering with an otherworldly glow.
Her deep blue eyes burned with predatory intent, her liquid-silver hair flowed like a cascade of moonlight, and her pearlescent skin reflected the bioluminescent light of her tentacles.
The shattered remains of her glass container lay scattered across the floor, water pooling around Lemuen and Executor as they braced themselves for the fight.
Lemuen, her pink braid swaying, gripped her sniper rifle tightly, her wheelchair steady despite the slick floor, her blue eyes sharp with determination.
Executor stood beside her, his gray eyes cold and focused, his white wings flaring slightly as he raised his firearm, his halo flickering in the dim light.
Maria struck first, her tentacles lashing out with terrifying speed, their bioluminescent tips slicing through the air like glowing whips.
Lemuen rolled her wheelchair back, narrowly dodging a tentacle that smashed into the floor, splintering the wood.
She fired her sniper rifle, the shot echoing through the underwater hold, but the bullet was deflected by the swirling water around Maria, the liquid bending unnaturally to protect her.
Executor moved with precision, his wings giving him a burst of speed as he darted to the side, unloading a volley of bullets from his firearm.
The Siren's water barrier absorbed most of the shots, but one grazed her arm, drawing a thin line of blue fluid that shimmered in the light.
Maria let out a haunting screech, the sound reverberating through the ship, causing Lemuen and Executor to wince as it assaulted their senses.
"We can't keep this up!" Lemuen shouted, her voice strained as she reloaded her rifle, her hands trembling slightly.
"Her water shield is too strong—she's adapting to our attacks!"
Executor nodded, his gray eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation, his voice calm but urgent.
"We need to target her directly, disrupt her focus. But Gavriel… we can't stop him without killing him. Sankta law forbids it—we'd become Fallen."
Lemuel glanced at Gavriel, who stood near the shattered remains of the container, his blonde hair disheveled, his golden eyes wild with a mix of fear and defiance.
He clutched his head, muttering to himself,
"Maria… my Maria… You can't take her from me…" The thought of killing another Sankta weighed heavily on Lemuen, her mind racing as she considered their options.
Her thoughts turned to Howard's decision to stall for time against the Pathfinder, a sacrifice that echoed Mostima's own actions in the past.
Lemuen clenched her jaw, her blue eyes hardening with resolve.
She knew a sacrifice had to be made, even if it meant breaking Sankta law, even if it meant becoming Fallen.
They couldn't let the Siren continue her rampage, nor could they allow Gavriel's madness to endanger more lives.
As she arrived at her decision, ready to take the shot that would end Gavriel and stop Maria, a sudden, echoing voice filled the room, deep and resonant, vibrating through the waterlogged hold.
"Sleep," the voice commanded, the word repeating like a haunting refrain, "Sleep… sleep…" Lemuen and Executor staggered, their composure crumbling as the hypnotic compulsion assaulted their minds, their bodies weakening under its weight.
Maria, too, froze mid-strike, her tentacles halting in the air, her deep blue eyes widening in shock as she looked around, confused by the voice that wasn't her own.
Gavriel's muttering stopped, his golden eyes darting nervously, unaware of the source of the command.
Lemuen clutched her head, her sniper rifle slipping from her grasp as she fought against the overwhelming urge to close her eyes, her voice a strained whisper.
"What… what is this…?" Executor gritted his teeth, his firearm trembling in his hands as he tried to aim, but his movements slowed, his grey eyes glazing over.
They both attempted to fight it, summoning every ounce of willpower to resist, but the unseen voice's command was too powerful, their bodies betraying them as they sank to their knees, consciousness slipping away.
Then it appeared.
The Pathfinder emerged into the room, its massive, bipedal form a grotesque amalgamation of scales and tentacles, its sickly green eyes glowing in the dim light. Atop it stood Howard, his transformed body radiating an otherworldly presence.
His white hair, streaked with blue, flowed like the ocean's depths, his red eyes glowing with a bloody intensity.
Gills pulsed on his neck, a crown of water circled above his head, and his clothes—now a blue-white ensemble rippling like the sea—clung to his form, a grotesque mask covering his face save for his eyes.
The Nethersea Brand had turned him into something ancient, something primal, a judge from the deep.
It was his voice that had echoed through the hold, a power amplified by his transformation, though none of them—Lemuen, Executor, Gavriel, or even Maria—realized it was him.
Gavriel, still clutching his head, looked up in confusion, his golden eyes wide with shock as he stammered,
"What… what are you?"
Howard's voice was deep and resonant, carrying the weight of the ocean itself as he answered, his red eyes fixed on Gavriel.
"I am both the mystery solver and the judge."
***
Howard gazed at Gavriel, who was now teetering on the edge of madness, his golden eyes wild with desperation, his blonde hair matted with sweat and grime, his once-pristine Sankta wings now blackened, a sign of his fallen state.
Dark bags hung beneath his eyes, and his halo flickered erratically, a faint shadow of its former radiance.
Howard pointed at him, his voice deep and resonant, carrying the weight of judgment as he spoke, his red eyes glowing beneath the grotesque mask of his transformed form.
"I understand your desire, Gavriel. I know your wish more than anyone—your longing to be with her. But you made a mistake. You lacked commitment."
Gavriel nearly snapped at the accusation, his face contorting with rage, his voice a hoarse snarl as he clutched his doctor's tunic, the fabric tearing slightly under his trembling hands.
"How dare you!" he spat, his rage shining through his broken demeanor.
"I've done everything in the world for her—sacrificed everything! My reputation, my people, my soul! And yet you, this… this being, claim otherwise? How could you dare say such a thing?"
Howard slowly walked toward him, his blue-white ensemble rippling like the sea, the crown of water circling above his head casting an eerie glow.
Maria, the Siren, remained paralyzed by fear, her deep blue eyes wide with terror as she floated in her sphere of water, her liquid-silver hair swirling around her.
She wanted to move, to protect Gavriel, but the overwhelming presence of Howard's Nethersea Brand transformation held her in place, her bioluminescent tentacles trembling.
Howard stopped face-to-face with Gavriel, his red eyes boring into the fallen Sankta's, his voice calm but unyielding as he explained.
"It was impossible for a Seaborn creature to evolve in reverse. Every single part of their bodies, their minds, their very essence—it's all created for the sake of the hive, the Many."
"There's never a need for individuality in their design, no room for the kind of transformation you sought. You wanted Maria to become a Sankta to bridge the gap between you, but you overlooked the other choice—the one you could have made. You could have become a Seaborn and joined her."
Gavriel's gaze dropped to the ground, his shoulders slumping as the weight of Howard's words crushed him.
He knew Howard was right—he could have become a Seaborn, could have surrendered to the Many and joined Maria in her world.
But there was a reason he hadn't, a fear that had held him back. His voice was a broken whisper, tears streaming down his face as he spoke.
"I was afraid… afraid of losing my love for her. I didn't care about my form or what my mind became. But the thought of being unable to feel my love for her as a result of that choice—it was worse than death."
He slumped to his knees, his blackened wings drooping, his halo barely glowing as he sobbed.
"I know I am a sinner," he said, his voice trembling from despair.
"I prayed to the Lord, day and night, and devoted my entire life in hopes of a miracle, but nothing ever happened. I knew there was no path of return… I always had only one choice."
He looked up at Howard, his golden eyes pleading, his voice desperate.
"What should I have chosen, even now? Tell me!"
Howard's expression softened slightly, his red eyes glinting with a flicker of compassion as he spoke.
"There is a way."
Gavriel's ears perked up, a spark of hope igniting in his broken heart.
"A way? What is it?" He asked, his voice frantic as he clutched at Howard's clothes, heedless of the Nethersea Brand's influence, his hands trembling with desperation.
"I'll do anything—anything!"
Howard's voice was steady, his words measured.
"My solution relies on both of you. If you truly love each other, if you can only have one another in your hearts, then there is a path forward."
Gavriel and Maria turned to look at each other, their eyes meeting across the room.
Maria, still floating in her sphere of water, smiled—a soft, genuine smile that radiated warmth despite her Seaborn nature.
Gavriel smiled back, his tear-streaked face softening, a glimmer of the man he once was shining through.
Howard could feel her emotions, a rare individuality for a Seaborn—she had discarded the will of the Many, choosing Gavriel over her kin, her love for him transcending her nature.
Howard raised his hand, the Nethersea Brand's power surging through him, a faint blue glow emanating from his palm.
The energy enveloped Gavriel, forming a cocoon around him, its surface shimmering like the ocean's depths.
Howard's blood began to flow from his palm, a crimson stream that mingled with the blue cocoon, transforming it into a deep, dark blue, the color of the abyss.
A crack echoed through the room, the cocoon splitting open to reveal something the Sankta would call an abomination—but to Gavriel and Maria, it was a miracle.
Gavriel emerged, no longer in the form of a Terran Sankta.
His body had transformed into a Seaborn hybrid, his skin now a pearlescent white, gills pulsing along his neck, tentacles extending from his back, their tips glowing with bioluminescent light.
But he retained a semblance of his Sankta heritage—new wings, shimmering with an iridescent blue, and a halo that glowed with a soft, oceanic light, a fusion of his past and his new existence.
Maria moved toward him, her sphere of water dissipating as she floated down, her tentacles gently wrapping around Gavriel's new form.
She held his face in her hands, her deep blue eyes filled with joy as tears of water streamed down her cheeks.
Gavriel's own eyes, now a shimmering blue-gold, mirrored hers, and they embraced, their tears mingling as they cried in shared happiness.
With a wave of his hand, Howard summoned a small portal, a swirling vortex of water and light that shimmered in the air.
He turned to them, his voice steady but firm. "Go." He glanced at the Pathfinder, its massive form still kneeling beside him, and added, "Follow them." Gavriel and Maria, still holding each other, turned to Howard, bowing deeply, their gratitude unspoken but palpable.
The Pathfinder rose, its sickly green eyes glowing faintly, and followed them as they traversed the portal, disappearing into the unknown, their love finally given a chance to flourish in a world beyond the Many's reach.
Howard's body began to change back, the Nethersea Brand's influence receding as his form reverted to normal.
His white hair returned to its original dark shade, his red eyes dimming to their natural color, the gills and mask vanishing, and his clothes transforming back into the double-breasted waistcoat, black overcoat, and red tie he'd been given in Laterano.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, exhaustion settling into his bones.
"Things turned out well," he muttered to himself, "but I never want to use that form again. After this, I'm taking a vacation—no matter what."
He also made sure to hold Gavriel accountable for his actions. He still kidnaps and murders some people.
I therefore made it so that they would feel extreme pain when he and Maria were parted.
And if it happens again over time, they will lose their individuality and turn into complete seaborne.
As he prepared to use his Arts to telekinetically lift the Santa Isabella back to the surface, a faint sound caught his attention—something approaching from above.
Howard looked up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out the shape. It was falling, growing larger as it descended, and then he saw it clearly: the unmistakable shape of a butt.
"Wha—" Howard barely had time to react before—boom—he was face-planted into the wooden floor, the impact jarring his entire body.
Someone landed on him, their weight pinning him down, and as he groaned into the splintered wood, he caught a glimpse of who it was.
It was none other than Skadi, the Abyssal Hunter, her presence as commanding as ever.
She stood up, brushing off her outfit, seemingly unbothered by the fact that she'd just used Howard as a landing pad.
Long, silvery-white hair flowed down her back, shimmering like moonlight, with a few strands framing her face, accentuating her deep crimson eyes that glowed with an intense, almost feral light.
Her skin was pale, a stark contrast to the black and red of her outfit—a form-fitting combat suit with a high collar, adorned with intricate patterns that hinted at her Aegir heritage, her Abyssal Hunter origins evident in the subtle scales along her arms.
A massive, jagged sword rested on her back, its blade etched with runes, and her black hat, slightly tilted, added a touch of mystery to her imposing figure.
Her movements were fluid, predatory, a testament to her strength as an Aegir-Seaborn hybrid, her crimson eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and readiness.
Howard groaned again, pushing himself up from the floor, his face still smarting from the impact.
"Skadi… really?" He muttered, rubbing his cheek as he glared up at her.
This vacation couldn't come soon enough.