NOVEL WEB Chapter 179: Chapter 179
The static-laced chuckle from Jet's modulator still seemed to hang in the stale air of the Smuggler Tunnels when the betrayal struck. Commander Lysandra Reef, cornered by his blackmail, had played her own desperate gambit. Instead of handing over the Sector Gamma bridge codes, she sent coordinates – Jet's primary Aqua-Crystal cache, hidden deep within a supposedly abandoned filtration plant near the Trench. The Azure Guard, acting on Lysandra's frantic, encrypted order, hit it fast and hard. Jet watched on a flickering monitor, his voice modulator emitting a guttural, digital snarl, as his men were overwhelmed, crates of glowing blue Aqua-Crystals seized under the Cartel wave insignia. "Reef...!" he rasped, the modulator cracking with fury. "You drowned rat!"
Sunken Gardens:
The news of the raid, twisted by Cartel propaganda into a "Coral Consortium ambush," reached the pressurized coral caverns just as Nori "Deepdiver" Kaito was being hauled away in bindings by Tidal Enforcers. "Selene's lies!" Nori choked, his damaged lungs wheezing. "We only want fairness!" His loyal divers, already simmering from the earlier locust attack and mass arrests, saw their leader taken. A spark hit tinder. A thrown wrench cracked an Enforcer's helmet. A harpoon gun was wrestled free. Then, chaos erupted in the ethereal blue glow. Divers turned their tools on the Enforcers, smashing Starlight Coral containment fields, using the swirling, blinding fragments as weapons. The serene Gardens became a riotous, churning battleground under the sea. "For Nori! For the Coral Consortium!" The cry, muffled by water and helmets, echoed through the collapsing order.
Drydock Gamma - The Silent Gambit:
On the listing deck of the Silent Gambit, bathed in the harsh glare of emergency work lights, Bianca Yvonne Clark was a whirlwind of focused energy. Her precious Cloud-Steel scraps were finally being welded onto the worst hull breaches. "Like, steady, Sprocket! Feed the line! Almost got this seam sealed!" Sweat plastered dark strands of hair to her forehead under her goggles.
Ember crouched nearby, ostensibly "guarding" but actually fidgeting, her gaze darting, fingers tracing the scars on her forearm. The distant thump of an explosion from the Skyfoundry district vibrated through the metal deck.
"Pathetic," Josiah's sneering voice hissed, audible only to Ember. "Look at her. Struggling with scrap metal. While she gets farther away. You're failing AGAIN! Just like when Mama and Papa burned!"
Ember flinched violently. "Shut up! I'm helping!" she whimpered aloud.
Bianca glanced over. "Ember? You okay?"
"LIAR! You're useless! Always useless! BOOM THE SHIP! MAKE IT STOP!" Josiah screamed in her mind.
Ember's eyes widened in panic. Her hand shot to her Helltide slingshot rifle, fingers tightening convulsively on the frame. A sparkler round clicked into place. She swung it wildly, not aiming, just needing the noise, the fire, to drown out Josiah. "MAKE HIM STOP!" she shrieked, finger tightening on the trigger, the muzzle swinging perilously close to Bianca's welding rig and the fresh, unstable Cloud-Steel patch.
"EMBER, NO!" Bianca yelled, diving sideways.
CRACK-WHOOOSH! The sparkler round shot past Bianca's head, detonating against a stack of empty oil drums further down the dock with a blinding flash and shower of sparks. The heat washed over them. Bianca scrambled up, face pale beneath the soot. "Like, WHAT THE HELL, EMBER?! You nearly blew me AND the patch to smithereens!" Ember just rocked back and forth, digging her nails deep into her forearm, whispering frantic denials to the empty air.
Skyfoundry District - Catwalk Confrontation:
Aurélie Nakano Takeko found Commander Lysandra Reef on a high, smoke-choked catwalk overlooking the chaos of the foundries. Fires still smoldered from Ember's handiwork; Bianca's "Cupcake" drones had left sections dark and malfunctioning. Aurélie's silver hair was tied back severely, Anathema unsheathed and gleaming dully in the furnace glow. Azure Guards flanked Lysandra, looking nervous.
"Commander Reef," Aurélie's voice cut through the industrial din, cold as deep space. "The Aqua-Crystals are secured per our agreement. The Cloud-Steel is acquired. You will lower the Sector Gamma bridge now. Our ship departs."
Lysandra turned, her face a mask of strained authority and lingering panic from Jet's blackmail. "Lower the bridge? During this insurrection? Impossible! Security protocols—"
"The agreement," Aurélie interrupted, taking a step forward. Anathema's blade began to emit a faint, ominous crimson glow, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. "You have your crystals. We have fulfilled our part. Lower. The. Bridge."
Lysandra's hand drifted towards her pistol. "You think you can dictate terms to the Azure Guard? The situation has changed! The Coral Consortium riots—"
"Situations change. Agreements do not," Aurélie stated. The crimson glow intensified, casting sharp shadows on her impassive face. "Do not lie to me, Commander. The codes are yours to give. Or have you already traded them away?" Her gaze was piercing, seeming to see the weight of Jet's blackmail on Lysandra's soul.
Lysandra's composure cracked. "You know nothing, outsider! You think you can just waltz in and—" She drew her pistol.
Aurélie moved. Not a blur, but a terrifyingly lethal lunge. Anathema flashed crimson, a horizontal arc that clanged with brutal force against the pistol, sending it spinning from Lysandra's hand into the smoky abyss below. The flat of Aurélie's blade snapped up, stopping a hair's breadth from Lysandra's throat. The guards froze, weapons half-raised. The crimson light from Anathema bathed Lysandra's stunned, furious face.
"The bridge," Aurélie repeated, her voice barely a whisper yet carrying over the foundry's roar. "Now."
Skyfoundry Storage Bay - Shadows and Schemes:
Souta "The Ink Shadow" moved silently through the gloom of a half-emptied Cloud-Steel storage bay. His target: Kuro, who had slipped away from the Azure Guard shadows ostensibly to "survey Cartel defensive positions." Souta found him near a comms terminal jury-rigged into the wall, not surveying, but negotiating. Kuro's voice, using the refined, unctuous tones of "Klahadore," was clear.
"...assure you, Magnate Maris, the quantity and purity are exceptional. A gesture of goodwill, considering the... unfortunate disruptions. My associates remain unaware, of course. The location for the exchange..."
Souta stepped from the shadows, his tattooed arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his presence radiating cold disapproval. Kuro paused mid-sentence, slowly turned, and adjusted his cracked glasses. No surprise, only cool assessment.
"Associate Souta," Kuro stated smoothly. "Eavesdropping is impolite."
"Our Cloud-Steel," Souta stated, his monotone cutting. "You barter it to Selene. Without consultation. Without Syndicate authorization." The word 'Syndicate' was barely a whisper.
Kuro's lips thinned. "A necessary expedient, Souta. Selene offers immediate Aqua-Crystals – far more than Reef promised. Resources we require for the primary objective: reaching Elbaph and securing Marya. Sentimentality over scrap metal is inefficient."
"Betrayal is inefficient in the long term," Souta countered. "The Masquerade expects results, not freelance profiteering that risks our cover and our alliance with these outsiders." He gestured vaguely towards the direction of the Gambit. "Reef will not overlook this theft."
Before Kuro could retort, a deep, resonant CLANG echoed, not just through the bay, but through the entire Skyfoundry district. Then another. And another. It was the sound of massive hydraulic locks disengaging.
High above the central nexus, the retractable bridges began to move. Not just Sector Gamma, but multiple sectors. With shrieking protests of stressed metal, massive sections of decking pulled back, isolating entire districts. Skyfoundry platforms were suddenly severed from the main shipyard, from the market districts, from escape. Alarms blared, a new layer of panic rising over the existing chaos.
On the catwalk, Aurélie and Lysandra both looked up, momentarily united in shock. Lysandra paled. "No... Jet! He couldn't have the codes... unless..." Realization dawned – her betrayal had forced his hand. He'd found another way, likely through the bridge technician Kuro had bribed, and was locking down the port entirely.
In the storage bay, Kuro's calculating eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "An unexpected variable," he murmured, the deal with Selene forgotten for the moment.
On the Silent Gambit, Bianca stared in horror as the gantry connecting Drydock Gamma to the nearest Skyfoundry platform retracted with a final, deafening SCREECH, leaving a yawning gap of dark water. "Like, you gotta be kidding me!" she yelled. Ember, snapped momentarily from her panic by the colossal noise, giggled hysterically. "Big bridges go CRUNCH!"
And in the Sunken Gardens, the riot paused as the vibrations shook the caverns, divers and Enforcers alike looking up in dread as their world was physically cut off.
The trap wasn't just tightening; it had sprung. Aurélie, Bianca, Charlie, Kuro, Ember, and Souta – along with Lysandra and her guards – were now trapped amidst the fires, riots, and malfunctioning machinery of the Skyfoundry district. Below them, Selene's elite Tidal Enforcer reinforcements, having bypassed the sealed bridges via submersible, were already swarming the lower decks, their amplified voices ordering lockdown and demanding the "outsider saboteurs." The path to Elbaph wasn't just damaged or diverted; it was shattered, and they were stranded on an island of molten metal and rising violence.
*****
The air in the Council Chamber of Kurau City hung thick with the scent of aged bamboo scrolls, ink, and the faint, ever-present musk of Zunesha himself. Sunlight streamed through high, open screens, illuminating dust motes dancing over the low table where Inuarashi, Wanda, Raizo, and Shishilian sat in tense silence. Scrolls depicting ancient star maps and weathered diagrams of Zunesha's physiology lay unfurled, seemingly mocking their current ignorance.
Inuarashi (Dog-Storm) broke the quiet, his gravelly voice heavy with the weight of centuries. "Land sighted. Rain-Ruption misplaced, gara. And the Pirate woman... she claims Zou itself is a star chart? An astrolabe?" He ran a clawed paw over a faded illustration of the Whale Tree, its roots depicted as intertwining with celestial lines. "Such knowledge... lost to time, gara. Forgotten even before Oden-sama walked among us." His golden eyes, usually sharp with command, held a rare uncertainty.
Wanda smoothed the fabric of her top, her expression thoughtful. "Her logic... it aligns with the angles we observed, Lord Inuarashi. The towers, the groves, the centrality of the Whale Tree. It feels possible, even if the scale is... staggering." She traced a line on a star map. "If true, the damage she spoke of..." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken consequence – Zunesha drifting uncontrollably towards land – hanging heavy.
Raizo, ever the stoic guardian, shifted slightly. "A Pirate's theory, Lord. Forbidden knowledge sought in a forbidden place. We must tread carefully." Yet, even his disciplined tone held a sliver of doubt. The impossibility of land sighted couldn't be ignored.
Shishilian, the musketeer captain, slammed his fist lightly on the table, making inkwells rattle. "But what if she's right? Look!" He pointed emphatically at a diagram showing Zunesha's usual migratory path, a vast empty arc in the New World. "This land... it shouldn't exist on his route! The Ruption malfunctioning... these aren't coincidences! How much have we truly forgotten, Lord Inuarashi?"
Inuarashi's gaze drifted to a stylized depiction of Kozuki Oden etched onto a ceremonial hanging. The fierce, grinning face seemed to look back, a reminder of a man who defied the impossible. Raizo noticed the shift in his lord's focus. "Lord Inuarashi? You think of Oden-sama?"
The Dog-Storm sighed, a low rumble like distant thunder. "Oden-sama sought truths beyond our shores, gara. He challenged the unknown. Now... a truth about our own home, our very foundation, lies hidden in the most sacred place, proposed by a stranger." He closed his eyes briefly. "Our faith in the Kozuki, in the New Dawn... it must not waver, gara. But Zunesha... he is ancient. More ancient than our pact, than our understanding. It is my duty as Duke to ensure his survival, and thus our survival, gara." The conflict was etched onto his noble features – duty to tradition versus the terrifying responsibility of protecting his people from an unseen, mechanical failure.
Raizo bowed his head. "Understood, Lord. Our faith is unbroken. The Kouzuki Clan will prevail. The Dawn will come. But Zunesha must be there to greet it."
Inuarashi nodded, a flicker of resolve returning. "Precisely, Raizo, gara. We must—"
The world exploded.
Not with sound first, but with movement. A deep, visceral thrum resonated through the very stone of the chamber, rattling bones and teeth. Scrolls leapt from the table. Inkwells overturned, spilling black rivers across star charts. Then came the sound – a deafening, guttural ROOOOOAAAAAARRR that tore through the walls, a sound of primal agony and colossal distress. It wasn't Zunesha's usual trumpet; it was a scream torn from the depths of the earth.
The floor beneath them ceased to be stable ground. It lurched violently, sideways, with the force of a continent shifting. Inuarashi, mid-sentence, was thrown bodily from his cushion, crashing against a woven screen that splintered under his weight. Wanda cried out, grabbing the table edge only for it to slide away, sending her sprawling onto the suddenly tilting floor. Raizo, ninja reflexes kicking in, managed a desperate roll, ending up pressed against a shuddering wall. Shishilian, caught mid-gesture, was flung backwards, his helmet clanging against a stone pillar.
"GARA!" Inuarashi roared, scrambling to find purchase on the crazily angled floor, his claws scrabbling on polished wood.
"What's happening?!" Wanda gasped, pushing herself up, her top askew, her usual serenity shattered by raw panic.
Shishilian staggered to his feet, bracing against the pillar as the entire chamber groaned and trembled around them. Dust rained from the ceiling beams. "It's Zunesha!" he yelled over the fading echoes of the monstrous roar and the terrifying groans of stressed bamboo and stone. "Is he turning? Or... or thrashing?!"
Outside, the sounds of Kurau City erupted – terrified shouts of Minks, the panicked cries of birds, the crash of toppling structures. The impossible had happened: the very earth beneath Zou, the thousand-year constant, had become an enemy. The sacred rhythm was broken. The astrolabe, if it existed, wasn't just miscalibrated – it was sending the ancient elephant into a catastrophic fit. The distant, terrifying silhouette of land on the horizon suddenly felt horrifyingly close. The debate was over. The time for careful consideration was swept away by the violent lurch of a world gone wrong.
*****
The emerald cathedral of Zou's jungle swallowed them whole. Sunlight, fractured by the impossibly dense canopy hundreds of feet above, fell in shimmering, dust-moted shafts, illuminating swirling pollen and the occasional flash of iridescent insect wings. The air hung thick and sweet with the perfume of unknown blossoms, damp earth, and the ancient, woody musk of Zunesha himself – a scent woven into the very roots and stones. Underfoot, a path of worn, moss-slicked flagstones, carved with faded celestial symbols, hinted at immense age.
Pedro moved like smoke ahead, his feline form silent despite the thick undergrowth, his lone eye constantly scanning the dappled shadows. Atlas followed, his rust-red fur a low flame in the gloom, every muscle taut, radiating restless energy. Marya walked with her customary, unhurried calm, golden eyes missing nothing – the angle of a sunbeam striking a specific carved menhir, the distant, rhythmic thump of Guardian patrols echoing through the giant bamboo stalks. Beside her, Bepo's white fur was a beacon, his navigator's satchel bumping against his hip, his breath coming in slightly anxious puffs. "Sorry," he whispered after snapping a twig.
"Quiet, bear," Atlas hissed over his shoulder, not breaking stride. "Sacred grove starts just beyond those giant ferns. Guardians patrol in trios. Eyes, ears, noses – all sharper than yours."
Pedro paused, merging with the shadow of a colossal, buttressed root. "Atlas and I," he murmured, the ember of his cigarette momentarily brightening his scarred muzzle, "bear the scent of Zou. We can likely gain access to the inner ring near the Tree's roots without raising immediate alarm. A Mink returning to pay respects… it's not unheard of." His gaze shifted to Marya and Bepo, sharp and assessing. "You two… a human pirate and a polar bear Mink from the outside? That will require… explanation. Explanation we don't have time for, and ears we don't want listening."
Marya adjusted the collar of her Heart Pirates jacket, a ghost of a smirk touching her lips. "Don't worry about us," she said, her voice low and smooth. "Just tell me the exact spot under the Whale Tree where you'll be. Bepo and I will meet you there."
Atlas spun around, disbelief warring with annoyance on his face. "Meet us there? Through a dozen patrols of elite Guardians who'd scent outsider blood a mile off? How, Pirate? Wishful thinking and a charming smile?"
Marya's smirk widened, genuinely amused. "Just watch and learn, kitten." She gestured vaguely towards the dense foliage and the distant, towering silhouette of the Whale Tree's crown piercing the canopy. "You handle getting yourselves in. We'll handle getting ourselves to you."
Atlas let out a sharp tsk, shaking his head. "Typical pirate arrogance," he muttered, a playful, almost grudging respect hidden beneath the insult. "All flash, no substance."
Pedro, however, studied Marya. He saw the calm certainty in her golden eyes, the faint shimmer of moisture condensing almost imperceptibly around her fingertips – a subtle signature of her power. A slow nod. "Confidence is a weapon. If you possess it, wield it. Rendezvous point: the 'Root of Tears'. A natural alcove formed by the Tree's largest surface root, facing due north. You'll know it by the ancient carvings of weeping constellations. Meet us there within the hour." He fixed her with his obsidian eye. "Don't be late. And don't get caught. The consequences…"
"…would be inconvenient," Marya finished for him, her tone dry. "Understood."
Bepo tugged nervously at his jumpsuit collar. "Meeting under the Whale Tree? Directly? With Guardians everywhere? Marya, are you sure—"
Marya cut him off, not unkindly. "Trust me, Bepo. Remember the 'Dawnless City? Think of this as… advanced stealth navigation." She gave his fluffy shoulder a reassuring pat, her usual stoicism momentarily softened by affection for the anxious bear. "Just stick close and don't say 'sorry' to any passing badgers, okay?"
Bepo puffed out his chest, trying to emulate her confidence. "O-Okay! Advanced stealth navigation! Got it! No apologizing to badgers!"
Pedro gave a final, curt nod to Atlas. "Move, cub. Time is the tide we fight against now." The two Minks melted back into the luminous undergrowth, leaving only rustling leaves and the scent of Pedro's tobacco lingering for a moment.
Marya watched them vanish, then turned to Bepo. "Alright, Navigator. Time for a shortcut." She held out her hand. "Take my hand. And whatever you do, don't scream."
Bepo's eyes widened. "Scream? Why would I—"
Before he could finish, Marya's form dissolved. Not explosively, but like morning mist surrendering to sunlight. Cool, damp vapor billowed out from where she stood, swirling around Bepo's legs. It felt strangely weightless, smelling of rain and damp foliage, clinging to his fur with a gentle chill. With a startled yelp that he quickly stifled, Bepo felt his own form become insubstantial, pulled into the swirling cloud. The vibrant greens and golds of the jungle blurred, muted, replaced by the soft, pearlescent grey of the mist. Sounds became distant echoes – the chirping of unseen birds, the rustle of leaves, the distant thump of Guardian patrols, all muffled as if heard through thick wool.
"Whoa…" Bepo breathed, his voice a mere whisper within the vapor. He looked down, seeing only swirling mist where his paws should be. "This is… advanced stealth!"
Marya's voice, calm and clear, seemed to come from all around him and nowhere at once within the mist. "Just focus on moving forward. North. Towards the Tree. The mist will flow around obstacles. We're ghosts, Bepo. Unseen, unheard." The amorphous cloud began to drift, silent and swift as thought, flowing over mossy roots, under low-hanging vines, and through dense thickets that would have been impassable on foot, leaving no trace but a faint, quickly vanishing dampness on the leaves. The forbidden heart of Zou awaited, and they were gliding towards it, unseen phantoms in the emerald gloom.
The transition from mist to solidity was seamless. One moment, Bepo felt like a wisp of cloud, the next, cool, damp moss pressed against his back. He blinked, the pearlescent grey vapor coalescing into Marya's form beside him and the overwhelming presence of the Whale Tree's base filling his vision. They were in the 'Root of Tears'. Towering above them, the colossal root formed a natural, moss-draped alcove. Ancient, weathered carvings covered the dark wood – stylized constellations weeping starlight tears, their sorrow etched deep by centuries. The air hummed with a profound, almost oppressive silence, thick with the scent of petrichor, ancient wood, and sacred incense lingering from distant ceremonies. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the dense canopy far above, leaving the alcove in deep, reverent shadow.
"Whoa," Bepo breathed, his voice hushed with awe, momentarily forgetting his nerves. "It's... bigger than I imagined."
Before Marya could respond, the world ended.
It wasn't sound first. It was the vibration. A deep, subsonic thrum shot up through the moss, through the bones of the root itself, rattling Bepo's teeth and making Marya stagger. Then came the SOUND. A deafening, guttural, earth-rending ROOOOOAAAAAARRR that ripped through the sacred grove. It wasn't Zunesha's majestic trumpet; it was the scream of a primordial leviathan in agony, a sound that bypassed the ears and hammered directly into the soul. The very air seemed to tear.
The ground beneath them ceased to exist. Not a tremor, not a shake – a violent, sideways lurch. The massive root alcove suddenly tilted at a crazy angle. Marya, caught mid-step, was flung sideways like a ragdoll. Bepo yelped, his world becoming a terrifying blur of moss, dark wood, and falling debris as clumps of earth and moss rained down. He hit the shuddering root hard, the air driven from his lungs. Marya slammed into a cluster of the weeping star carvings, her leather jacket scraping against the rough wood. Above them, the grove echoed with the terrifying groans of ancient trees stressed beyond endurance and the distant, panicked shouts of Guardians.
Meanwhile, at the Grove's Edge:
Pedro and Atlas stood rigid before a trio of imposing Guardians – elite Minks clad in lacquered bamboo armor etched with constellations, their spears leveled. The lead Guardian, a stern-faced badger Mink, was mid-sentence, demanding their urgent business near the inner sanctum during unscheduled hours. Pedro's cigarette ember glowed faintly, his single eye fixed, trying to weave a plausible tale of paying respects to a fallen comrade.
Then the roar hit.
The effect was instantaneous chaos. The Guardians, disciplined as they were, instinctively flinched, their spears wavering as the ground beneath heaved. The badger captain stumbled, his balance lost on the violently tilting flagstones. Pedro, feline reflexes honed in countless skirmishes, used the lurch to his advantage. He didn't fight the momentum; he rolled with it, coming up in a low crouch behind a suddenly unstable stone lantern. "NOW!" he roared over the fading echoes of the monstrous cry and the groaning earth.
Atlas needed no urging. The violent shift had already ignited his battle-ready instincts. He saw the Guardians scrambling, disoriented. With a surge of Electro that crackled faintly around his claws, he exploded forward, not towards the Guardians, but past them, a rust-red blur weaving through the tilting bamboo grove deeper into the sacred heart. Pedro was a shadow at his heels, abandoning subterfuge for desperate speed.
"What the hell was that?!" Atlas gasped, leaping over a fissure opening in the mossy path.
"Proof!" Pedro snarled, his voice tight with grim urgency, vaulting a fallen branch. "Proof we don't have seconds to waste, let alone minutes, gara! Move!"
Back at the Root of Tears:
Bepo groaned, pushing himself up on trembling arms. His white fur was streaked with dirt and moss. Marya was already on her feet, leaning against the weeping constellation carving, breathing hard. A thin trickle of blood marked her temple where she'd clipped the wood. Her golden eyes scanned the still-trembling alcove, the disturbed moss, the dust motes dancing violently in the fractured light.
The deafening roar had faded, replaced by an eerie, ringing silence punctuated by the distant, panicked calls of Minks and the ominous creaking of stressed timber high above. The ground still vibrated faintly beneath them, a dying echo of the colossal spasm.
"Well," Marya said, her voice remarkably calm, though slightly breathless. She wiped the blood from her temple with the back of her hand. "That just happened."
Bepo finally managed to sit up fully, clutching his navigator's satchel like a lifeline. His fur was matted, his eyes wide with residual terror. "I'm so—" he began automatically.
Marya cut him off, not harshly, but with a firmness that brooked no argument. She pushed off the root wall and walked over to him, offering a hand. "Bepo. Seriously. You really need to stop apologizing." She hauled him to his feet with surprising strength. "Especially for things that sound like thunder made flesh and move continents."
Bepo dusted himself off, still shaky. "S-Sorry, I mean... right. No apologizing." He managed a weak, wobbly smile. "Advanced stealth navigation got a bit bumpy."
Marya gave a short, genuine laugh, the sound incongruous in the sacred, shaken space. "Understatement of the century, Bepo." Her gaze sharpened, scanning the path leading deeper under the colossal root where Pedro had directed them. "Come on. Let's find our impatient lynx and his smoking shadow before Zunesha decides to try pirouetting next." The urgency was back, underscored by the lingering tremors in the earth and the fading echoes of the ancient elephant's agony. The astrolabe awaited, and time was collapsing faster than the ground beneath their feet.