Chap 2
POV: Bwig Fella
Somewhere, in the middle of a dangerous and strange sea there was a small, lush, and diverse island of just 3,000 kilometers or so. It was surrounded by small rock formations, with rock pillars averaging 50 feet tall. It lay at the heart of a large coral reef, home to over 300 aquatic species, extending 1,000 kilometers from the island in all directions. But the most dangerous factor resided on the tallest rock… THERE WAS ME! BWIG FELLA!!
SQWAAKK!!!
I stood in a vertical posture. I had long, thick, powerful legs ending in large, powerful webbed feet with 5 opposable, thick, curved talons. My upper body was robust with two pairs of wings, a small pair with three retractable and opposable claws at the ends. The back wings were designed to assist the main wings in swimming, climbing, combat, and aerial maneuvers.
The main wings were thrice as large and ended in the same three retractable claws, but scaled up. Cartilage formed on my head in a beautifully colored crown-like armor for the vulnerable parts of my skull, which I could also use for attacks, and I also had a black, hooked beak to help with that. My underbelly was white, and the feathers on my back were dark turquoise that faded into sky blue.
I was the biggest, smartest, and wisest pair of wings around, and that’s how I ruled the island. I stretched my strong pair of wings, exposing my hypnotizing patterns that grew, signaling that I was the leader of the flock.
SQWWAAAAKKK!!!! SQWAAKK!! SQWAAKK!! SQWAAKK!!!
I dived down from the 70 ft rock to the nearby beach, landing and observing the shore before walking around. The average height of my flock was 11 ft, and the ratio of wingspan-to-body was 1:1 for the back wings and 1:3 for the front wings. I, however, was different. I stood at 15 ft with a wingspan-to-body ratio of 1:1.5 for the back wing and 1:4.5 for the front wings.
The other males around me moved away, their expressions filled with envy and anger. They waddled off to the shores, pretending to be wise seniors while looking out to the sea next to their juniors, putting little effort into hiding their jealousy.
“Fraudulent bums. That’s why I bred all your sisters!”
I squawked and took to the sky over the island in search of anything. Flying over the jungle, I watched the local life swing between trees, running along the ground, hunting, and even some eager whelps mistaking a rock for a female in heat. “Boring.” I said before I flew off the island, over the rock formation, past the reefs, and towards the clouds in that order. “Too much envy on that island. They see me every time they look at their nieces and nephews!” I flew and flew forward in great flaps and reached a respectable distance.
But that’s when I noticed, it, on the horizon, a great Hurricane was forming, but how could this be? The elders of my flock should have sensed this weeks in advance, and jealous they may be, yes, but no, the elders were far from incompetent. And it did not explain how I, myself, and the other non-winged creatures of the island did not sense it.
It could only be a magical phenomenon.
Immediately, I turned tail and fled back to the island. I had to take command of my flock. Back on the island, I sent a sequence of calls that shot through the sky with a single message: gather.
SAQWAAQAK!!! SQWAAKK!!!
SAQWAAQAK!!! SQWAAKK!!!
SAQWAAQAK!!! SQWAAKK!!!
SAQWAAQAK!!! SQWAAKK!!!
Hate me, yes, they do, but they all chose me to lead, which meant no one disobeyed my orders. In a few minutes, my fellow ‘Wind Cutters’, as the humans and systems called us, gathered together before me, big and small.
I presented the report and then allowed the flock to break out into groups to convene, after which their representative elders returned to provide me with their answers. I gave them 10 minutes and ordered 5 of the fastest flyers to go run recon on the Hurricane, magical phenomena were unpredictable after all.
After ten minutes, the unanimous decision was to flee the island if there was even a single sign of the Hurricane coming this way, a sentiment I fully agreed with. What we were now deciding was which land to go to, a debate that lasted five minutes and was reached by a vote. “Wasting time when nature is throwing a temperature tantrum,” I clicked my beak.
A minute later, the recon had returned. Apparently, the Hurricane had grown 34 times larger, 23 times as dense, and 50 times more violent than when I had seen it 20 minutes ago. Worst still was that it was quickly moving this way and would be here in 30 minutes.
“Gather all belongings and head to the north beach.”
I gave the order and in 5 minutes, we were ready to migrate south, the direction of the Hurricane. Our path went north first to grow distance, then westward of the Hurricane’s path, before flying south anti-parallel to it. At the north Beach, all you could see was a sea of green and blue as almost 5,000 members of my flock gathered. And with three calls, they all took off.
SWAQQKWWAAAK!!!
SAQWAAQAK!!!
SQWAAKK!!!
I spread my wings and took to the sky, and almost 20,000 colorful and hypnotic wings rose behind me. Shortly, 5,000 unique patterns covered the sky, the wings alone taking up 1,400 square kilometers. We quickly formed a chevron formation as the elders, and I took the front ready to rotate who would take the burden of leading the drag. We got up to our maximum non-magic gliding speed of 200 knots and flew for 10 minutes, making it 35 nautical miles north of the island. We then banked and flew west, flying another 10 minutes before finally banking again and heading south.
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As we flew south, passing the Hurricane, we felt the immense Quin-Force power emanating from it. “Curse the Sky’s!” I clicked my beak. “Barrier formation!” I said as the flock of 5,000 channeled our own Quin-Force to form a barrier as we flew even faster, banking west, flying away from the hurricane. “Enhancers deploy!!” I squawked, and we then got a magical speed boost, making us 10 times as fast. Quickly, we reached Mach 3 as the Hurricane grew stronger. From our position outside the Hurricane, we could see the island.
A single lightning bolt hit it, and then an explosion occurred. The fireball grew in a few seconds to a diameter of 4,000 kilometers. In a single strike, the island was gone. Then dozens of lightning bolts hit the sea. The water exploded upward, fell, boiled, and then formed tsunamis that averaged 1,800 ft. “Squack, who set the weather to kill all mode, squack.” The Hurricane was around 5,000 kilometers in diameter, and it took us a little over 1 minute to clear its area. But my future sense caught something before it happened.
It terrified me.
In response, I took over the minds of the flock, switching to a speed formation and pushing the flock’s Quin-Force to the max. Our speed suddenly shot to Mach 20, and I pitched us up completely vertically to the sea and shot through the clouds. 8 seconds later, we were 56 kilometers above where we just were, and I released the mind control over the flock. “Defense pyramid!!” My dazed flock members flew into formation on instinct.
Our Quin-Force formed a pyramid around us, the tip of the vector snapping to my bearing. I was currently pointing to the center of the Hurricane, so too was the pyramid, because I knew what would happen soon. The rest of the flock felt it and quivered. “I thought the eye of the Hurricane was supposed to be the safest point,” the youngest elder said and clicked his beak.
Then the mountain of Quin-Force powering the now 7,000 kilometers in diameter hurricane was multiplied by some quadruple-digit number. Then all that energy was condensed into a purple cylinder 3 kilometers in diameter but 50 kilometers tall. Suddenly, at the base of the thin cylinder just above sea level, something began to glow.
And then a flash of blinding purple.
The flash was followed by a hum, but we dared not look. We put everything into strengthening the barrier and even began flying backward with it to grow the distance. But it would make no difference.
The flash of light wasn't a flash. It was an explosion. It erased everything within a circumference of 31,400 kilometers and a height of 50 kilometers. Underwater, in that same area, all life was sterilized. The shockwave slammed against the barrier even though we weren't in the area.
It pushed us back up vertically for kilometers as we saw the affected area. Everything was gone, everything. Islands, clouds, life, natural formations, even the waves from the sea cowered before the power. But one thing still stood alone, unopposed and unyielding when even the seas themselves knelt.
The Iron-Clad Titan.
The colossal titan was nearly 1,200 ft long, 300 ft wide, and 430 ft tall. On its back, a settlement that looked constructed by humanoids. Its skin, made up entirely of metal and unidentified minerals, was mainly pure white, adorned with intricate red, blue, and lime green patterns and markings. Murals on both sides depicted a humanoid in red, bulky armor smashing through an unknown object. On one mural, the inscription read ‘Juggernaut,’ while the other read ‘Dreadnought.’ The titan remained still in the vast expanse of the open seas, and the elders and I silently agreed.
“Retreat!”
We turned and returned to the chevron formation and kept flying north, but now at the enhanced Mach 3, we soon left the desolate calm. The waves of the sea slowly began their return to the area of no life and movement. Violent waves could be seen coming in from all directions as they rushed to fill the displacement the storm left, and my flock flew south, never to even look back.
Pov: Atlaster.
My eyes shot open, followed by my body shooting to an upright sitting position, and finally, my mouth shooting to release a gasp. I soon gathered myself after a few breaths and gave the bunker a once-over. The sailors were all waking up in similar scenes with no obvious injuries, good news, we don’t need to pack the morgue. Slowly, I got up and made my way to the front of the room, giving the bastards a few more seconds before gathering my voice and saying.
“At attention, gather.”
The sailors groaned and grouped into a half-assed formation. Acceptable considering we were all in shock from the mystic fuckery we just experienced.
“I know we’re still questioning what the fuck is going on, but that’s why I’m gathering your attention right now.” I paused again, giving them more time to wake up. “We have no idea what is going on and no clue about the conditions of the ship.” I looked around appreciatively as they all seemed to be awake. “Enough stalling, as we’re all conscious,” I smirked, switching pace as they groaned.
“We have 25 housekeeping staff, 10 galley staff, 20 medical staff, 10 entertainers, 20 engineering staff, 10 hosts, 5 computer specialists, the heads of those departments, and the bridge officers. That’s 1,900 less than we are used to, so you lot will be over clocked with no pay.” I grinned at the continued grumbling and whines “Stop bitching, this decides whether or not we make it home.” I said with a sudden seriousness that made everyone snap to attention.
“Medical staff, check everyone here and hold those who aren’t in working condition. Galley staff, after checking with medical, review our stock and assume standard stranded procedures. Engineering staff, after checking with medical, check the engine in a system of importance in decreasing order. Computer specialist, after checking with the medical, check the onboard systems. Hosts, entertainers, and housekeepers, split up and support the other departments where needed. Goddamnit! You bastards already know what to do, why do you have me talking so much!? MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!!”
The bunker burst into more movement as medical staff used handheld machines to check everyone in a conveyor belt system. I was checked first and stood next to the bunker, opening the hatch as the last person was checked. They broke into groups and rushed out of the hatch. I followed behind and made my way to the bridge. Officers and heads of departments were there working together to coordinate the Sailors. It helped that we did this once every 10 days at ship turnaround day. I stood at my seat and gave orders once every 10 minutes or so while overseeing the coordination efforts.
Three hours later, all checks were finished, and the reports were coming in, perfect condition, too perfect. The rooms and all were clean, the hull was in almost perfect condition, which should have been impossible because we were just flying at 400 knots. The systems were all green except for anything that gave location data. All items that should have been sent flying were in perfect condition, to my relief, the reactors were in perfect condition. And when I say perfect, I mean perfect like the ship was just finished yesterday and yet to be christened. And the strangest of all or food storage was packed full with fresh produce that was fresh to the point it felt like they were just caught.
Before I could fully react to this information, I felt a rumble. On the horizon, a fish-like monster multiple times the size of the ship had appeared. It headed straight towards us, its speed? Faster than anything we could reach, especially from standing still.
“Fuck”
POV: Bwig Fella.
The same younger elder flew up to my side. “What was that? Why did we flee? It was just 100 humans inside and weak ones at that .” He didn’t just question me, but all the elders, a dumb one he was. “We didn’t run from the humans, we ran from that iron-clad titan.” Another elder humored him. “That was just a human construct, a ship.”
We looked at him, dumb founded, almost breaking formation. Was he blind? “Did you not see the Quin-Force in the metal? The will it gave off? No human on this backwater planet can imbue a construct with both.” He finally caught on; either those weren’t humans, or… I finally decided to step in.
“That was no humanoid construct, no, that ‘ship’ was alive and breathing.”
