The Island Tilts
The water still shimmered with the residue of the shockwave. Somewhere above, the ocean swallowed all trace of Orion, and everything went quiet again.
But Kieran didn't have time to think about his foe. His mask was intact but propulsion system was not fully obeying cerebral command.
Pressure warnings pulsed red across his retinal HUD but his mask began to realign and his systems compensated. His right thruster sputtered, damaged by the shockwave that had originated from his clash with Orion. The current was stronger down here—colder too, pulling him sideways into a spiral of metallic silt and fractured light. His internal stabilizers fought the drag, but the deep had its own gravity, an unseen hand that refused to let go.
> "Manual control engaged," he muttered. "Override… confirm."
The system didn't respond. Static fuzzed through his interface, then the soft hum of an older command line tried to surface—his real name code, the one he shouldn't be using. He hesitated only a second before he spoke it.
"Michael Just, authorization Delta Seven-One. Manual override."
Silence. Then the comm line blinked and the system came back online.
>"Override: Michael Just, authorization Delta 7 – 1 accepted. Systems set to manuel in two seconds.
He breathed a sigh of relief, his mask humming against his skin.
Then a voice—not human, not machine either, came through his comms, smooth and ancient, like something that hadn't spoken in centuries.
> "Citizen ID not recognized. Assistance engaged."
The ocean shifted.
From the shadows below, something vast uncoiled—a mechanical limb, slender and shining like a serpent of light.
A retrieval arm from Subaqualis One. His eyes flew to the dome below, had he really been pushed this far down?
The retrieval arm extended, sensors flickering green. Kieran twisted, tried to boost upward, but the thrusters still did not respond.
"Cancel assist! Cancel assist!" he shouted through the comms.
The arm ignored him completely, it clamped down protectively. Hydraulic joints screamed against his armor, locking over his left shoulder plate with surgical precision. Kieran thrashed, the arm dragging him toward the distant gleam of the submerged city.
His system came to life once more, "Manuel mode fully engaged."
His eyes widened even as he realigned, and his propulsion systems fully came on-line
"Override retrieval. Code Michael Just Authorization Delta Seven-One."
The ancient voice rose through his comms like flood waters from a stream.
"Authorization unrecognized. Safety protocols remain dominant directive."
He cursed to himself. Of course he wouldn't be in this system, it was hundreds of years old and they always felt it unnecessary, he would definitely change that.
He resigned himself, after one more desperate thruster pulse, to his fate. He would just need to find the resistance faction here and plan his next move.
Sura sat in the medic bay, her injured arm encased in a transparent cylindrical apparatus. Threads of silver nanites danced across the contours of bone and tissue, flickering with laser filaments that repaired, reinforced, and reassembled simultaneously. She flexed her fingers cautiously, the alloy within her forearm glinting faintly as the nanites wove themselves into the damaged structure.
It wasn't pain that made her wince, there was no pain—it was awe. The precision. The speed. The way Jackie had fought without hesitation, without complaint. 'She saved me', Sura thought quietly, her mind replaying the chaos of the battle. Not because it was protocol. Not because she had to. Because she chose to.
A small sigh escaped her lips. 'It seems I am becoming more and more cybernetic.'
She let herself smile, a small curve of acknowledgment toward the girl who was… astonishingly capable. Maybe too capable. But in a world that moved like this—fragmented, unstable, and dangerous—maybe that was exactly what you needed. A little respect, a little fear, a little awe… it could be the beginning of something. Maybe even… a friend.
The apparatus hummed softly, signaling the final calibration. Sura's looked at her arm, now fully functional. She flexed it once more, testing the mended bone, mended with subaqualis, the best, most flexible, and strongest metal now known to man.
The medic bay doors hissed open. The humid scent of the sea mixed with the metallic tang of the laboratory as Sura stepped out. The air smelled of ozone and salt. Sura looked up to Stratos Pelagia Island.
From this vantage, the island appeared deceptively stable. Its plates glimmered against the morning mist, seemingly anchored firmly to the void of sky and sea. But Jackie's ocular implant was mercilessly precise. She zoomed in, dissecting the subtle motion, the micro-displacement vectors of the island's foundation.
It wasn't drifting. It wasn't mere sway. The island tipped imperceptibly, just enough to elude all but the most sensitive instruments. The foundation trembled, the outer plates flexing almost invisibly, and her ocular implant flagged it immediately.
Seismic instability: 0.02 degree variance per minute. Escalation probable. BDJ's quiet observation filled the edge of her vision.
Jackie murmured, almost to herself, "It's not drifting… it's sinking." Her voice was calm, but her eyes traced the tiny deviations across the plates. Every imperfection, every tilt, told a story of structural fatigue. Of potential catastrophe.
Sura stood beside her, quietly tracking her gaze, she understood that Jackie was seeing something she couldn't. Her eyes scanned the dark waters as she thought about Lyra jumping into the ocean below them, she trembled a bit at the thought. 'How are these two so strong?' she thought.
Patrick approached, hands clasping a datapad, his expression measured and formal. "You need a system diagnostic before we proceed," he said. He already knew she wanted to go below, before she even understood the true danger she was ready to dive in head first.
Jackie never shifted her gaze. "If I waste another minute hooked to your console, that island will be gone."
"You can't save an island if you're malfunctioning," Patrick countered sharply, stepping closer. His voice carried authority, and caution, but also frustration.
"You can't fix a system by waiting for permission," Jackie said. Her tone was steady, almost clinical. She didn't need validation. She didn't want permission. She needed action.
When had she grown up so much? How long had it been since she entered this new life, a month, three?
The wind picked up, carrying the brine of the ocean, the metallic tang of machinery, and a faint electric charge that hinted at the instability above. The entire island seemed to tilt subtly beneath the weight of reality, the imperceptible stress magnified in Jackie's ocular interface.
Patrick's jaw tightened. "You're behaving recklessly."
Jackie turned slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. "And if I don't go? Can General Thorne truly evac everyone? How many is sufficient sacrifice for cowardice?"
Sura stepped forward, her repaired arm flexing lightly as she observed the scene. "You are wrong doctor wrong," she said quietly, but firmly. "I've seen her adapt mid-battle. I don't know how she does it, but I know she can. If anyone can stabilize that island, it's her."
Patrick's eyes flicked to Sura, unreadable. "You're biasing your observation."
"I'm stating what I've witnessed," Sura replied calmly. "And it's accurate."
Jackie offered a brief nod of acknowledgment. No words needed between them—just understanding. The battlefield had forged a silent alliance. Her eyes flicked to Sura's arm and BDJ responded without prompt.
"Nanobots maintain prime directives and holding for further instruction."
Her eyes flicked back to the island above, just as the outer deck shuddered ever so slightly as the vehicle hovered just beyond the defensive perimeter. Jackie's ocular implant tracked the incremental tilt, the subtle flex of the plates. To a casual observer, nothing was amiss. But to her, every micro-movement was a signal, every vibration a code.
BDJ chimed softly in the periphery, "Operation risk: extreme. Probability of failure: 78%. Override authorization: accepted."
Jackie exhaled, a sharp, controlled breath. She stepped toward the launch lift, readying herself for the descent. The reflection in the glass caught both Sura and her—half metal, half human, facing the same storm, ready to confront it together.
Sura watched her go, feeling a mixture of awe, respect, and quiet curiosity. 'Maybe she's not so off-putting, Sura thought, flexing her repaired arm. Maybe she's exactly what this world needs. But…
'But where do her loyalties truly lie?'
Outside, the sea and sky trembled with the first hints of chaos, mirrored in the imperceptible tilt of the island. And somewhere deep inside, Jackie was already calculating, already moving, already evolving.
Far below, in the domed city, a retrieval arm retracted into its housing bay.
Kieran instantly stirred, waiting for a moment to run to shadow.
And the first thing he heard was the hum of the same pulse—the same heartbeat—that Jackie now touched above.