Chương 111: CHAPTER 108 – Tearing Through the Clouds

"Not even a ray of sunshine today?" Lautre grumbled, adjusting his tank top and the various metallic devices on his shoulders and back. His white hair had lost much of its shine in the shadows, turning sadly dull. Beside him rose a thin line of smoke from Edvard's cigar, who also wore a short, almost shiny coat with a metallic look.

"It'll be easier to hide among the clouds in this weather. Stop complaining all the time." Lautre snorted, shaking his head with disdain.

"I'm not complaining, but it's bad luck to do things when the sun hasn't risen!" Edvard set down the greenish cigar, extinguished it, and placed it in a metal case of the same colour, with golden embroidery.

"I wouldn't want to relight it later, would I?" Edvard looked at him with such disdain that it made one doubt their friendship, then burst out laughing and answered in his usual calm, relaxed tone.

"Boorish behaviour. Cigars aren't relit because they become toxic. Besides… coming from you, who does things when the sun isn't there at all, that sounds like an excuse for your laziness!" While the two kept bickering, Maverick made his way between them. His chin always high, rifle strapped to his shoulder and pistol in its holster. When the wind shifted the front of his coat, the red globules and blood-soaked blades could be glimpsed.

He gave the two a warm smile, removing his fur hat as he headed toward the Pietas. The colossal black ship was one of NOIR's crown jewels: a sinuous body about forty metres long, with six wings arranged as if to mimic an insect's flight, each loaded with slender thrusters. The entire structure tapered toward the tip, making the ailerons and tail look like fins. The NOIR logo was engraved on the black flank, contrasting with the violet finish crowning the ovoid windows.

An L-T hybrid engine, which once ignited emitted a reddish halo with a centre as dark as mud, powered the entire mechanical beast. The rear opened, lowering a ramp wide enough even for a couple of vehicles.

"It's not a flying base like the Horizontium, but it has a few accommodations." The engineer smiled, adjusting the strap of his weapon on his shoulder. From the greenery around the clearing, another group of people emerged. One of them wore a thin, long coat with a belt at the waist and the NOIR logo embroidered on the shoulder.

"You're strangely cheerful, Monica. Did something happen?" Lance asked, addressing the commander dressed in a heavy black jacket with thick iron buttons. She smiled, bringing a nail to her mouth.

"I just had a nice chat last night." Jeanne and Lance exchanged a glance and nodded. Monica gave a quick caress to the young brown-haired girl, whose hair was wavy and a little tangled from sleep. On her back she carried her frame, tied with a bright yellow belt. Her uniform consisted of loose dark trousers and a jacket reinforced with metal plates, bearing the same logo.

"Do you like the uniform?" She asked her companion, who was inspecting the sleeve of his own suit. It was thick but somehow light, unsettlingly pervaded by the glossy sheen typical of metals.

"It makes me look older, like a soldier." Lance laughed, raising a hand to greet Noel and Hoku, who emerged from the undergrowth in their uniforms. The colossus wore heavy iron plates on his shoulders and a jacket with dozens of firearms and tools of war. Hoku, by contrast, wore a white jacket draped over his shoulders and a dark shirt with various violet iron plates scattered across his chest, sides, and ribs.

The sheath of his blade peeked out from behind the jacket, wrapped in a series of torn bandages and a single greenish ribbon with silvery touches tied to the hilt.

"I think it suits you!" Jeanne smiled, raising her thumb. Lance stood stunned for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

"What matters is that it keeps us alive! We have a bit of money in our room. We should use it!" She laughed too, while Lucas appeared like a corpse from behind the plants, carrying briefcases.

"Here… The… Medicines." The scientist murmured, handing the various doses of compounds to each member of the team. Lance took one and scratched the scar on his neck, almost as if it were reacting to the liquid in the vial. Monica was the last to take hers, squeezing his hand tightly. With a glance, she indicated a large tree, then waved goodbye to everyone as they boarded the airship. Lance smiled, lingering on the ramp for a few seconds.

"Everything will be fine." He gave a caress to Lachesi, licking his dry lip before taking his place aboard the Pietas.

"Promise me a gift when you come back! Do it!" Monica held both his hands, pushing him toward the tree's bark. Lucas, exhausted, managed a laugh and a nod. He squeezed her hands in return and then spoke.

"Monica, please, be careful." Without answering, she lifted the mask, caressing his face with her lips. Without saying a word, she nodded and smiled, wrapped in that tiny sliver of sun on an otherwise cloudy day. Lucas sighed, stroking her head before watching her vanish to lead the mission. For a second he thought he saw Noir himself, as the ramp rose behind her. Inside, everyone waited for the seats to emerge from their compartment.

Noel and Hoku forced Lance to hang from the ship's handles to see how long he could hold on. The poor boy remained there, like a flag, for a couple of minutes before a hologram lit up the interior.

"This is the dossier of our operation." Maliard emerged from the cockpit, holding a dossier stapled with golden clips. On it were the latest data recorded from Icarus as it moved across the archipelago. Maliard adjusted the collar of his greenish uniform, adorned with that half-black cape resembling a small wing. He gave a quick glance at the papers before sighing.

"Obvious to say, but better safe. Icarus is a singularity in every respect, and it's difficult to observe for a spectator completely ignorant of Frequency or Hel, and pieces that crumble from decaying structures are simply seen floating around. However, we don't know if that applies to living beings, so think about your movements."

The hologram shifted, highlighting dozens of structures suspended in the air: some looked like the remains of apartment buildings, others gigantic warehouses, and at the centre a large square with a small tower. In Lance's mind, the idea formed that once, perhaps, it had been more than a military base. He could imagine people in the streets before the disaster, watching the projections suspended in the cold air.

Suddenly a small violet dot lit up directly at the centre of the diorama, followed by other reddish dots arranged in a circle.

"Those are the signals we must investigate?" Lance added, and Maliard nodded without looking at him.

"The strongest signal was recorded directly at the centre of the complex, and its trace is nearly identical to that of the Black Epoch event. The others are similar traces, and it would be right to make sure it's nothing serious. The division into teams will be made once the situation in the singularity is assessed." The seats sprouted from the floor, anchoring firmly to the ship's walls. Maliard sat down with a snort, staring grimly at the smiling Monica.

"Questions?" He asked, frowning, his back firmly pressed against the seat. A hand rose from in front of him, followed by a metallic, ringing thud.

"What if the signal's origin turns out to be what we fear?" Lautre lowered his fingers, wrapping them around the hilt of his tuning fork. Monica's ears perked up, forcing the relief to abandon her face. Her grip tightened around her knees, while Maliard sighed.

"We have an experimental collapse device on board. It will simply drag the entire structure back into Hel and forcibly close the singularity. It's a terribly dangerous device, and I wouldn't want to use it at that distance." Edvard stared at him, puzzled, rubbing his chin. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Forgive me, do you mean causing a detonation at close range?" Maliard nodded, clearing his throat with a cough. The hologram closed, flattening before vanishing into nothing.

"That thing would become the pivot of Icarus's portal if it had fully manifested. The only way is to cause a close-range detonation. Obviously, someone would have to remain there for the duration of the detonation. Casualties can't be avoided in that scenario. Keep that in mind." Maliard stared at Lance, still standing, his eyes locked on his face. A strange determination flickered behind his irises, a will both murky and raw.

"Lance, sit down. I know what you're thinking, but calm down. It's only a possibility. The Unnamed is gone." Monica, who, despite her smile, was squeezing her own flesh, spoke such words; it seemed like just another excuse to the boy. He glanced at his arm before speaking, adjusting his collar.

"I've already been in Hel several times. Somehow I could get out." The ship's engine roared, but everyone ignored it to watch the expression on Maliard's face turn from tired to a mix of anger, shock, and confusion.

"That's your plan? To hope for a completely random event? You are disgustingly…" The ship launched, catapulting the two against the wall. One, who lacked thinking skills in the morning, had remained standing, ignoring the takeoff warning, and the other, a bit hot-tempered, had unbuckled his seatbelt to hit him. Now both were pinned against the cold iron while the ship swiftly cut through the skies, piercing the clouds to rise above the white sea.

"SORRY, I FORGOT THE COUNTDOWN!" A mechanical but strangely recognisable voice echoed through the hull. Maverick held the microphone to his mouth with one hand and steered with the other, with great diligence.

"In a minute we'll be stable on course, and the distortion generators will be turned off, since they can cause nausea or weakness and prevent you from managing a bit of inertia." He chuckled while Maliard ground his teeth and Lance groaned, crushed beneath his companion. Meanwhile, Monica and Lautre laughed, less noisily than Hoku and Noel, who exchanged bets on what would happen as soon as one of the two had his hands free.

The Pietas straightened its flight, sending Maliard and Lance crashing to the floor, under the horrified gaze of Jeanne and Monica. Of course, they knew what the hatred in Maliard's eyes meant as he got up. Hoku and Noel were still laughing, watching them approach.

"Come on, Lance, don't always get scolded!" The boy didn't look at them, instead staring at his wall companion. Both gave a nod before bashing them on the head with their knuckles. The blow landed simultaneously, without a change of expression. Maliard silently raised his thumb and went to sit, while Noel and Hoku dozed shoulder to shoulder. Lance sat beside Jeanne, nervously buckling his seatbelt.

"It's their way of joking. We're all tense…" Monica smiled, narrowing her eyes as she relaxed her shoulders and neck. Lance sighed, noticing how Lautre and Edvard were busy reading the same book, holding it together by the cover. The title was illegible, too worn, but it seemed an exact twin of the old period books he had in his apartment.

"Does nostalgia have to hit me now?" He nervously tapped the floor, biting his lip to hide the trembling of his right hand. A strong nausea accompanied him, sometimes followed by an earthy, metallic scent. The vision of the beach now flashed in his mind, and he desperately tried to push it away.

"Albedo…" Again he heard himself called, but he noticed he had simply woken from a sleep accompanied by icy sweat. The whole ship was silent, weapons held close even in sleep. Only Maliard and Jeanne were still awake and alert. She leaned close to his ear, letting some hair fall on his lips.

"If we have to be apart, promise me you won't overdo it?" Lance nodded quickly and, before she could pull her ear away, replied.

"Promise me the same." Both smiled, shaking hands as the air grew colder. His mind was clogged with worries. Everything seemed so tense despite the great calm. In his brief, restless sleep, he hadn't been able to gauge how much time had passed since departure. Suddenly the side doors began to open, and a series of strange violet flashes spread through the ship.

"Icarus is approaching. Nothing to report on the emitters. You won't fall. The Pietas's generator has an attractive field toward frequency. Weak, but enough to keep you from diving into the sea." Maverick's voice, a little grim, came through the transmitter while the wind tousled the entire team. Lautre was the first to lean out, trying to overpower the gusts with his whistle. The view before him was that of a sea, or a plain, entirely made of cotton.

A gigantic expanse of white, foaming clouds, with a colossal complex of rock on the horizon.

"THAT'S ICARUS?!" Lance peeked out behind Lautre, almost pushing him overboard. The floating archipelago was immense: it looked as if a city had been torn from the earth and scattered across the sky. You could see everything under the light of the high morning sun, and it was certain the hologram hadn't done justice to its melancholic and somehow paranormal aura, even by the standards he was used to.

"I've seen Hel, but that is truly, incredibly unsettling." Lautre stared at him, smiling, shaking his head in confusion.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY? CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING OUT HERE!" Lance shook his head, confused by what Lautre was trying to tell him. Everyone else leaned out, except Maliard, busy consulting his notes again.

"SURE IS FREEZING!" Monica immediately retreated inside, quickly rubbing her frosted shoulders.

"Anyway, why are we alone here? I know the altitude is excessive and costly, but it's definitely safer than the sea." Lance placed himself right in front of Maliard, who was partially looking at him, occasionally returning to his papers.

"Pirates." He chewed on the word before snorting something and returning his eyes to the pages. Lance understood, nodding and deciding to leave him be. Monica clearly wasn't the only one stressed. Everyone was, especially the two siblings.

"Lance…" Maliard's voice called him, noticing he had stood to head to the opening. The dossier had vanished, revealing the metallic reflections of Compulsion under his cloak. He snapped his fingers, materialising a stiff military cap above his dark hair. It was greenish, with a silver pin resembling wings, though a little damaged and chipped.

"Don't do anything stupid. This mission is the worst you'll face since you joined us." Lance knew it. Those words were redundant, yet that fiery gaze made him rethink this mission entirely. Without opening his mouth, he nodded quickly. Maliard was satisfied, deciding to look out at the sky. The only one left was Edvard, just back from a brief view of Icarus to adjust his jacket.

"What foolishness it is to be a modern-day pirate. Once I could understand it, but now all routes are tracked with specific codes, and it's become harder to evade the military. What's the point of spending your life harming others?" He seemed to have heard what Maliard said and now wanted to provide the rest to Lance, who happened to be right next to his seat. On the cushion, a red-covered book with a slightly damaged title.

"I don't justify those who do evil, but making a name and a decent living outside the capital is quite difficult." He smiled, often remembering the meagre meals and all the aches he had to feel before hoping to fall asleep. Edvard nodded, turning toward him. His face was strangely tired and pale, but still smiling and pervaded by his usual elegance.

"I think the world has worsened in the last century, frankly." Both he and Lance exchanged a laugh.

"And I believe that, although you're right, it can still improve." Suddenly, a violent siren tore through the sound of the wind and the crew. A dazzling red light began flashing inside the Pietas.

"Hostile human forces identified and rapidly approaching the ship! Disarm with minimal casualties!" Maverick's voice rang out, bright and metallic, from the speaker, while from the opening of the hull of the same white emerged from the clouds, different only for the dark signs of wear. Various iron and wooden barrels cast their sinuous shadows on the white, while a mighty black sail manifested from the heavy mainmast.

The gears shattered the air with their rumble as they raised gigantic curved wings, buffeted by the wind. Immediately on the dark wooden deck, a crowd gathered, equipped with the most disparate weapons: rifles, cannons, whips, bottles, and some carrying only bandoliers.

"Right now? Really?!" Lautre scratched his head, yelling before rushing back inside the Pietas. Lance stared intently at the rival crew, busy gesticulating and dancing. One mimed a blade to cut his head off, and another, staring at Monica, tried to raise his hands. She immediately cocked her weapon and stormed back into the ship.

"Sink them." Monica smiled, to the cheers of everyone except Lance and Maliard, who were busy with the same thought.

"How do we sink them if we're flying?"