The battlefield lay in a stunned, soggy quiet, broken only by the relentless chiku-taku of the spinning gears. The colossal forms of Stanislav, Dimitri, Polly, and Benn were strewn across the scarred earth like felled mountains, their deep breaths rasping in unconscious rhythm. The last traces of Marya's frozen swamp retreated into the ground, leaving her standing alone, the Heart Pirates insignia on her leather jacket the only bold color in the grey field.
She turned, her golden eyes taking in the scene. Nearby, Paula Cupcake Pope lay where she had fallen, her pipe still smoldering a few inches from her outstretched hand. Jannali stood over Atlas, finally clicking open the last of his heavy sea-stone manacles with a key from Paula's ring. The lynx Mink hissed in relief, rubbing his raw, fur-matted wrists, the bandages across his chest dark with stubborn blood.
Jannali straightened, her gaze swinging to Marya. Her expression, usually alive with curious energy, was flat with a mixture of exhaustion and stark disbelief. She gestured vaguely at the field of unconscious ogres, then at Paula, then finally back at Marya.
"What the hell," she stated, her accent clipping the words sharp.
Marya raised a single, cool brow as she slid Nisshoku into its sheath across her back. The obsidian blade vanished with a soft shink.
Jannali continued, her voice rising. "You just—you just go off and leave me with that?" She jabbed a thumb toward the unconscious Emerald Matriarch.
Jelly Squish, who had been happily bouncing near the freed Vesta, wobbled over. "Bloop! Freed friends! Happy time!"
Marya's eyes, calm and observant, glanced over Jannali's shoulder at Paula. "I was confident you could handle it," she said, her voice even.
Jannali's jaw dropped. She sputtered, searching for words that got stuck in her throat. Her face flushed. "Yeah," she finally managed, the word bursting out. "Well, I did handle it!" She turned away, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest in a show of indignant pride, though a tiny, grudging smile threatened her lips.
Nearby, Vesta was on her knees, squeezing Mikasi the guitar to her chest, rocking back and forth. "You're okay, you're okay, I was so worried," she murmured into the polished wood, her earlier squeals softened to a heartfelt mantra.
Atlas grunted, pushing himself fully upright with a wince. He tested his footing, his nub giving an involuntary, pained flick. "Hey, boss," he said, his voice a low rumble.
Galit was already rubbing his own wrists, his long neck stretching with audible pops. He nodded toward the deeper island, past the fields of gears. "The others," he said, his emerald eyes sharp. "They're being held in the compound near the Anchor's base. This way."
They took a step, a unified purpose straightening their spines.
"Wait."
Marya's single word froze them in their tracks. Galit and Atlas turned, expressions questioning. Vesta looked up, still cradling Mikasi. "Really?" she asked, hope and confusion warring in her voice. "But… shouldn't we get the others? Like, right now?"
Marya gave a slow, single nod. "I will go for the others. You four will go and get the crystals." Her gaze shifted to Jannali. "Galit can pilot the sub. You can show him the way to Mount Kyosei. This way we can get out of here faster once everything is done."
Jannali's brows knitted together. "You mean to go in there alone?" She gestured with her chin toward the ominous industrial complex surrounding the Grand Chrono-Anchor, its dark iron visible against the pale sky.
Marya offered a small shrug, the motion almost lost in her leather jacket. "I have Jelly. And I will not be alone for long. Once they are free, the others will be with me." Her focus shifted to Galit and Atlas, lingering on the bloody bandages across Atlas's torso. "We need those crystals to repair the Dreadnought Thalassa. Once I have our people, you can circle back and get us. This is a simple retrieval. In and out."
Atlas and Galit shared a long, knowing look. They'd seen the scale of the forces here. "Simple" wasn't a word that belonged on Kamaten.
But Vesta chimed in, her innocence slicing through the tension. "Yeah, but… I think the others might have a different plan. Charlie and them. They sounded like they wanted to… y'know. Break more than just out."
Marya nodded again, unsurprised. "I think I know what their plan is. But we are not here for that. We are here to get our crew and keep moving." Her tone left no room for the revolution brewing in the compound.
Galit opened his mouth, his flexible neck coiling in protest. "Boss, the layout is a maze of foundries and guard posts. Even if you're fast—"
Marya put up a hand, a clean, silencing gesture. "I will be faster on my own. Do not waste time arguing." Her golden eyes held his, and in them was not cruelty, but a simple, immovable calculus. She saw their injuries, their exhaustion, and the precious minutes ticking away. She viewed them not as abandonments, but as variables to be optimally placed.
Galit took a breath to argue further, but Marya was already turning. "Jelly."
"Bloop! Ready!"
And then, she was simply gone. Not in a puff of mist, but with the sheer, startling speed, a blur of black hair and leather that vanished into the grey landscape, a wobbly blue jellyfish-shaped silhouette on her shoulder.
Galit's protest died on his lips. He stared at the empty space where she'd stood.
Jannali cursed, kicking a puff of ash. "I hate it when she does that!" She sighed, running a hand over her head, her fingers brushing the hidden third eye on her forehead. "Right. Okay. You heard the lady. Crystal run." She looked at the group: the wounded Atlas, the pragmatic Galit, the starry-eyed Vesta clutching her sentient guitar. "We've got the easy job, apparently. Let's not muck it up."
She tossed the heavy key ring into the acidic shallows of the nearby Sanzu River, where they sank with a hiss. Then, she pointed toward the mist-shrouded, jagged peak in the distance—Cape Willows. "Our ride's that way. And I've got a feeling the trek's about to get very interesting."
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