Chapter 38: The Black Iron Submarine
The sea south of Tokyo, near the Izu Islands.
Hachijo-jima, an island famous for its unique twin volcanoes and rich marine ecosystem. A whale-watching boat cut smoothly through the deep blue water.
Sonoko was trying her best to be cheerful, standing at the bow with the sea wind whipping through her hair. "Look! Whales! Over there!" She pointed to where the massive creatures were breaching, sending spectacular plumes of water into the air. She had planned this trip specifically to lift everyone's spirits, to wash away the dark clouds that had been hanging over them with the majesty of nature.
But the atmosphere on the boat was far from festive. Ayumi and Genta were genuinely excited by the whales, but even they could sense the oppressive weight on the adults and their other friends.
Ran leaned against the railing, a gentle smile on her face as she responded to Sonoko's calls, but her eyes held a deep, unshakable weariness. The train tragedy, the terrible truths revealed at the Kudo mansion... they were like jagged rocks in the pit of her stomach. Kogoro wasn't his usual loud-mouthed self, either. He just stood there, smoking silently, his brow furrowed. He knew the truth now, the curse that his daughter and her friends were carrying, and he felt a profound helplessness. At least Conan, he thought, had been lucky enough to avoid making a contract.
Conan watched the whales, but his mind was elsewhere. What could he do? How could he protect them?
Haibara stood close to Dr. Agasa, as if seeking shelter. The wide brim of her hat was pulled low, obscuring her face. She wasn't looking at the whales; she was scanning the ocean, the boat, every single person on it. Since the meeting, her anxiety had reached a fever pitch. The Organization could appear at any time.
Mitsuhiko was also quiet, his hand unconsciously resting on his chest, over the Soul Gem where the dark corruption was slowly, inexorably spreading.
Masumi Sera stood a short distance from Ran, her hands in her pockets, her sharp eyes observing everyone. The revelations from the meeting—her brother's reappearance, the truth about Kyubey—had left her reeling.
They all tried to put on a brave face for Sonoko and the younger kids, but the forced smiles were brittle and thin.
That night. A traditional Japanese-style inn on Hachijo-jima.
Haibara was alone in her room, unable to sleep. The silence of the night only amplified her senses, and the deep-seated anxiety began to churn in her soul. Being on an isolated island, far from the familiar streets of Beika, made her feel exposed, vulnerable.
Suddenly, she felt it. A minuscule, yet undeniably malevolent, pulse of energy. The Organization. They were close. They were in the inn.
She shot up from the tatami mat, her face instantly draining of color, her body wracked with uncontrollable tremors. They're here! They've come for me!
Terror threatened to swallow her, but a desperate will to survive surged through her. She would not be a cornered animal. In the split second before she sensed them breaking down her door, she unleashed her magic.
Not defense. Attack.
A brilliant silver light coalesced before her as she transmuted a dozen different reagents into a potent, corrosive acid and sent it blasting through the paper door.
FWOOSH!
The wooden door dissolved into ash. The two figures on the other side, who had been about to smash it down, were hit head-on by the invisible wave of decomposition.
"AAAAARGH!"
Vodka, who was in front, took the brunt of the attack. His clothes disintegrated, and his exposed skin blistered and melted. He howled in agony. Pinga, who was behind him, managed to throw up an arm to block, but his own clothes and skin began to sizzle and corrode. They stumbled back, staring in horror at their grotesque injuries.
"What the hell kind of power is that?!"
They were both furious. "That damned traitor! She's fighting back!" Vodka roared, unleashing his own magic to heal the horrific chemical burns. "We have to catch her!"
Pinga's voice was cold as he, too, activated his power. A flash of dark gray light and a swirling vortex of deep purple and black erupted in the hallway. Their wounds healed, and their tattered clothes were replaced by their magical girl uniforms—Vodka in his ridiculous, heavy-duty maid's dress, and Pinga in a twisted, asymmetrical gothic lolita outfit that was a clear, distorted imitation of Gin's. His dreadlocks and sunglasses, which had transformed into a pair of glowing purple data-visors, made for a bizarre and terrifying combination.
They stared into the room, at the small, silver-clad figure of the traitor they knew as Sherry.
"You...?!" Vodka was the first to speak, pointing a trembling finger. "Sherry?! You're a magical girl, too?!"
"And you're not, Vodka...?" she retorted, her voice shaking.
"I see," Pinga's cold eyes swept over her. "So that's how you escaped the Organization. It wasn't luck. You made a wish, didn't you, Sherry?"
"Hmph! It doesn't matter how you did it!" Vodka sneered. "A traitor is a traitor! This time, you're not getting away!" He charged, and Pinga moved to flank her, a shadowy blur of motion.
BOOM!
Vodka's heavy fist slammed into Haibara's hastily-erected silver shield, the barrier cracking under the force. At the same moment, Pinga's attack slipped through a weak point, aimed directly at her.
Just as the fatal blow was about to land—
CRASH!
The opposite wall of the inn exploded inward. A pink meteor shot through the breach, a figure of unstoppable force and righteous fury.
It was Ran.
And her powerful, karate-infused punch was aimed squarely at Vodka.