Shrouded Seascape

Are those things here to save the child? Charles thought to himself with his brow furrowed as he peered through the glass window at the approaching enemies.

A dozen or so aircraft-like metallic constructs were circling around the Narwhale. The wings of the typical helical fighter planes had been replaced by those of a goose. As the wings flapped incessantly, they propelled the elliptical bodies through the water with swift agility.

Faced with the strange underwater "fighter planes" of unknown allegiance, First Mate Bandages raised a proposition, "Captain… should we… launch a torpedo… to test them out?"

Charles pondered briefly over Pogro's appearance and then slowly shook his head. "Wait. I'll take Pogro out there and see if we can negotiate.

"There's no need to engage in unnecessary conflicts. It would be best if we could use this opportunity to start an effective dialogue with the island's natives. It's always better to resolve issues through words rather than with bullets."

As the icy sea water filled the decompression chamber again, Charles crouched down to face the child and stuffed the remaining pieces of candy into his small hands.

He continuously reassured Pogro, "Something's approaching us; they're likely here to save you. When we get out there, tell them I've no ill intentions. I'm just here in search of an item."

Holding the sugar candies in his hand, Pogro nodded away, though it was unclear if he truly understood or was simply too scared to disagree.

With a hiss, the decompression chamber's hatch swung open. Air bubbles escaped into the sea and swiftly ascended to the surface.

Charles held the boy in his grasp and entered the chilly waters once again. To show that he held no hostility, he opted to come out all alone.

A hint of fear flickered across Pogro's eyes as his gaze landed on the "fighter planes" in the distance. He turned to glance at Charles next to him, and the fear intensified.

"Hey! Don't attack them! They said they are nice people!" Pogro yelled toward the enigmatic metal constructs.

Charles arched an eyebrow in puzzlement. What's with him labeling us as nice people? Do kids know sarcasm from a young age?

Pogro continued shouting loudly underwater. From his focused expression, he seemed unaware of the oddity in his sentences.

The "fighter planes" around them halted and aligned themselves side by side. The pilots within seemed to be discussing their next move.

As the seconds ticked away, Charles felt that the situation had entered a deadlock and he knew he had to do something to change the situation for the better.

"Go back. Explain to them personally," Charles urged and gently pushed Pogro forward. Not expecting Charles' action, Pogro abruptly floated several meters away.

Since the "planes" didn't launch an immediate attack, Charles saw this as the chance for him to express his goodwill first.

Being able to use such sophisticated machinery suggested that these natives possessed high intelligence. Besides, he was the one who had captured Pogro in the first place; returning the child meant no loss to him.

Pogro glanced back at Charles and then made an unexpected move. He spread his arms wide and swiftly dove toward the buildings below. He swam so rapidly and didn't even bother to grab the floating sugar candies that had escaped his grasp.

Just as Pogro was nearing the buildings, the "fighter planes" shot a missile.

Out of everyone's expectations, the missile obliterated the boy, Pogro, reducing him into a bloody mist.

Clad in his diving suit, Charles was stunned. Those observing from within the Narwhale were in equal disbelief. What was happening? Wasn't he one of their own?

Before Charles could come around from the unexpected turn of events, the bizarrely fused "fighter planes" pivoted. Their undercarriages opened to reveal a missile with a live chicken's head at the tip, and it flew toward Charles.

Charles tried to dodge, but the heavy diving suit had reduced his agility drastically. He couldn't avoid it!

Boom!

A violent explosion sent Charles spinning, and the powerful shockwave propelled him through the water. He struggled against the continuous aftershocks and fought to right himself. He knew the Narwhale had come under attack and he needed to return immediately to assist.

After much trouble, he finally managed to find his footing, but he found himself in a drastically worse situation: the blast had completely torn apart his heavy diving suit.

The intense water pressure forced seawater into his lungs, and that familiar sense of suffocation assaulted him once again.

Charles gritted down on his teeth and quickly reached behind him for the oxygen tube. However, he found the bulky tube to be severed by the explosion as well.

Boom!

Another thunderous roar sounded as another missile hit Charles and flung him even further away.

An acute pain shot through his body once more. Without the protection of his heavy diving suit this time, the searing pain coursing through him made it clear that he had sustained serious injuries.

Charles knew he only managed to survive due to the stones in his body that had enhanced his defense. Otherwise, he would have been pulverized into dust as Pogro had been moments earlier.

The injuries were still manageable, but the bigger problem was how far he was from the Narwhale now. The feeling of suffocation intensified; he was close to drowning.

Charles' arms flailed as he struggled hard to push through the crimson water that was stained with his own blood toward the Narwhale.

His eyes stung from the impurities in the water as he struggled to open them to assess the situation. He saw the Narwhale swiftly changing course and launching torpedoes at those strange metal constructs.

The Narwhale's hull, reinforced with Type-3 Steel, exhibited astonishing defensive capabilities. Enemy missiles managed only to create minor dents on her robust exterior.

Swoosh!

A dark shadow sped toward Charles. It was Dipp; he had come to rescue his captain.

"Captain! Hold on! I'll get you to the ship." Dipp held Charles in his grasp as they sped toward the decompression chamber.

Another missile flew toward them, but Dipp's agility in the water was unparalleled. He slanted his body and dodged it effortlessly.

Just as he was about to bring Charles through the hatch of the decompression chamber, a hand gripped the hatch's side and held them in place. It was Charles' hand.

"Captain! Come up! You'll drown!" Dipp cried out anxiously.

However, Charles shook his head slightly. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath of seawater through his nose. The sensation of suffocation was intense, but strangely, his consciousness remained clear. This was far from normal.

Something's amiss about this seawater. I can breathe underwater here.

Woosh!

Another missile whizzed toward him and created a trail of bubbles. Charles swiftly turned and propelled himself away from the ship's edge, narrowly evading the attack.

The explosion's shockwaves sent Charles tumbling through the water, but when he regained his stance and faced those bizarre flying machines, a cold smile crept across his face.

"Quite cunning... Truly a display of high intellect to stage an ambush. Dipp! Have everyone come out. If we're able to breathe underwater in this place, there's nothing for us to fear," Charles asserted.

He then launched his prosthetic arm's grappling hook toward one of the peculiar machines flying past. The grappling hook’s sharp end punctured the machine's tail wing and left a trail of blood in the water.