2 March 1943
Location: Mirror Sea
Time: 1900 (Estimated)
Ice floes and towering icebergs drifted on the deep-purple sea, which twisted and churned as if caught in a perpetual dance of chaos. Above, dark clouds and purple thunderstorms raged, intensifying the otherworldly atmosphere.
An aggressive wind howled toward Mo and her detachment, yet their riggings held firm, a defiant bulwark against not only the literal tempest but also the more ominous threat lurking upfront. At the far end of their sights, an unknown Elite Siren floated, her aggressive neon eyes and wide, intense smile radiating pure, unbridled intimidation. To Mo, it was as if madness itself had taken form; the Siren's presence chilled the very souls of the kansens, who bristled like cornered porcupines, each quill poised to defend against this unpredictable predator.
The standoff stretched on. The Siren, having delivered her enigmatic entrance line, remained motionless, a silent challenge suspended in time. Whether she was amused, confident, or simply waiting for her prey to act, none in Mo's detachment could tell.
Taking advantage of the standoff, Mo's eyes darted over the turbulent landscape as she swiftly scanned her surroundings: terrain, ally positions, enemy signature. Every second counted; every fraction of time was precious. In a burst of focus, she overclocked her thoughts, dilating time as she rapidly formulated the engagement plan.
Steadying herself, Mo drew a deep, silent breath and then shouted with commanding authority,
"Everyone! Follow me!"
In an instant, thick white smoke erupted from her rigging, enveloping her and her detachment in a dense shroud that obscured their position within a 10-meter radius. The radar link-up blipped her location to all allied units, allowing her team to melt away into the chaos.
Simultaneously, fifteen RIM-66 missiles streaked from their launchers, each carving a unique, unpredictable trajectory toward the enemy. Their paths were erratic, almost haphazard, yet each missile was a calculated strike in Mo's masterful plan. With precision and unwavering resolve, Mo ensured that the first salvo would not go to waste.
The enemy was none other than Purifier, a Siren whose insane smile never wavered even in the face of incoming threats. Her eyes glinted with a manic mix of defiance and derision as she regarded the barrage of missiles streaking toward her. For a fleeting moment, she seemed poised to meet them head-on, to showcase her terrifying prowess. But as each second passed, the missiles accelerated with ruthless precision. Caught off guard by the speed of their approach, Purifier's survival instincts roared within her, compelling her to dodge rather than confront.
It was too late. The missiles, following their pre-calculated trajectories, swerved to intercept any manic maneuver she might make. In a desperate bid, Purifier deployed her rigging, a sprawling manta ray-like shield that fluttered wildly in the turbulent air. Even so, the missiles struck. While most slammed into her shield, a few grazed her body, delivering the equivalent of 1500 kilograms of TNT's impact in a single devastating blow.
For a heart-stopping moment, Purifier crumpled onto the purple water below, her form battered and broken. But then, as if by some dark magic, she rose again with wounds knitting together in seconds, her once joyful, derisive smile replaced by a mask of grim realization.
"How can mere imitations dare strike the mighty me!" Purifier bellowed, her voice echoing across the Mirror Sea. "Humanity dares create these measly missiles because we allowed it! How dare you attack me with such feeble firepower!?"
Her furious shout ricocheted through the warped reality of the Mirror Sea, eliciting mocking snickers and uneasy murmurs from the retreating trapped forces on the far side.
From Mo's leading position, amidst swirling white smoke and crumbling ice, Memphis's voice rang out with a sardonic edge. "She thinks you're built by us, doesn't she?" she quipped, her eyes alight with mischief as she darted forward while absorbing every detail of the chaos.
Newcastle interjected in a low, serious tone, "That's a good sign. It means the Sirens still don't know about Lady Monsoor."
Mo, hearing the exchange, felt a wave of relief mixed with cautious optimism. The element of surprise was still on their side, and that could be the key to turning the tide in this brutal contest.
"Everyone, listen up!" Mo's voice rang out over the tumult, shaky yet resolute. "I have a plan.. but I must warn you, it might put you at greater risk than it does me. I know it sounds like I'm sacrificing you, but please believe me, this is the best option we've got!"
A burst of boisterous laughter cut through the tension. "What are you saying, Mo! You're our leader!" Amazon exclaimed, her tone a mix of exasperation and unwavering support. "If it weren't for you, we'd have been sunk long ago. We trust you with our lives!"
Jervis, rarely one to raise her voice, joined in with an uncharacteristically loud, "As Amazon said, your orders, Ma'am!" The rest of the detachment nodded in agreement, their expressions resolute, their trust in Mo absolute.
Just then, the serene ambience of Mo's camp shifted abruptly. The familiar scenery of the Mirror Sea began to distort into a haunting, monochrome veil, and through it emerged countless black and red warships, phantom silhouettes of enemy might. The sight sent a chill through every kansen present, a grim reminder that the Sirens' favored doctrine of overwhelming numbers had only just begun.
Mo's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the encroaching threat. "Alright, listen carefully. I'll explain the plan in a moment, but for now…" She paused, ensuring everyone's attention. "Be ready! Watch for the incoming beams. Evasive manoeuvre on my mark!"
In perfect unison, the formation loosened into a fluid, agile cluster. Their feet slid effortlessly over the water, dodging swift, lethal plasma beams, shells, and aircrafts that erupted from the advancing mass-produced Siren ships. Mo, standing at the heart of the formation, continued their makeshift battle planning, every word precise and measured.
As the detachment split up into their designated paths, the tactical reorganization sending them scattering into the chaotic dark, while Purifier observed from afar. Her presence, cloaked in cold menace, seemed to take in every move. After her initial shock at the first missile strike, her guard had risen, yet even now, she sensed something amiss. Though her pride forbade any admission of vulnerability, her mocking voice carried on the wind.
"That was the only time I'd let you hit me, you insignificant pests!" Purifier shouted with manic laughter, her tone both scornful and threatening. "Keep up your futile resistance, my little cornered rats! Show me you're worth my time! Entertain me, The Great Purifier, if you dare!"
And Purifier instinct wasn't wrong.
The scattered kansens quickly converged into a tight formation, with Indomitable taking her position at the very center. Destroyers Jervis and Amazon led the charge, their sleek forms slicing through the churning waters, while Light Cruisers Newcastle and Memphis flanked them on either side. Together, they advanced with calculated precision, weaving deftly to evade a hail of incoming beams, shells, and aircraft as they pressed steadily toward their target: Purifier.
Across the distorted expanse of the Mirror Sea, Purifier regarded the approaching force with a chilling, deranged smile. Her yellow neon beams burst forth from what remained of her turret arrays, slicing through the air as she unleashed her own attack. Despite her rigging sustaining damage, the elite Siren's presence was undeniably formidable.
Indomitable, in the heart of the formation, maintained control with unyielding discipline. She had been given full discretion to act, and she understood the gravity of the situation. This bold, almost suicidal charge into enemy fire was meant to serve as a lure, a bait to capture Purifier's attention. The logic was simple: an aircraft carrier was a high-value target, and since Purifier was unaware of Mo's true nature, she would perceive Indomitable as the prime threat to neutralize.
True to her expectations, Indomitable pushed the formation forward with a speed and agility she hadn't exhibited in ages. Their disciplined advance continued until they closed to within a mere 100 meters of the Siren. At that critical moment, Indomitable's voice rang out over the comms with unwavering authority:
"Shoot!"
In an instant, concentrated fire from the escort ships exploded onto Purifier. A barrage of hot lead shells, of various calibers, pounded her defenses, followed by a series of torpedoes that tore through the chaotic water. Purifier was suppressed as the kansens executed a swift, calculated retreat. Like Steppe nomads spurring their steeds into a controlled withdrawal, the detachment pulled back purposefully, each movement a blend of precision and raw determination.
Outside the escort's gun range, Indomitable seized the moment to escalate the pressure. With a graceful flourish, her golden rigging shimmered as she materialized an ethereal runway around her. From it, she launched her torpedo bomber and fighter squadrons swiftly and calmly, each aircraft emerging amid a relentless downpour of shells and laser beams from the Siren ships and Purifier's counterattacks.
In moments, her sortie spread across the sky, her fighters clashing fiercely with enemy aircraft, battling for air supremacy above the chaotic fray. The coordinated torpedo strike quickly began to suppress Purifier's defense again, causing her to falter under the onslaught.
Amidst the cacophony, Newcastle's voice came through clearly and very supportive.
"Lady Indomitable, the plan is working," she reported.
Indomitable's tone remained steely as she barked orders, "Keep the pressure on, but be careful, maintain the tempo until Mo finds her opening."
From the forward position, Jervis replied stoically, "No sign of Siren submarines in our sector. We can maintain our routine for now."
Indomitable then addressed the rest of the formation with measured precision. "Amazon, Memphis. Conserve your torpedoes. Alternate torpedo strikes on that elite Siren in the next rounds."
"Roger that," Amazon affirmed crisply.
"Copy," Memphis echoed, determination in her tone.
Indomitable nodded as she ordered resolutely, "My torpedo bombers are returning. Prepare for the next round!"
Her porcelain-like face, usually so unenergetic and unblemished, was now streaked with seawater and sweat, a testament to the strain of battle. Yet, her escorts saw only the unwavering resolve of the infamous lazy carrier.
With a sudden, sharp maneuver, the formation executed a precise turn, rushing back toward Purifier to renew their harassment. The tactic proved effective, and the battle shifted into a relentless back-and-forth exchange between Purifier and the five kansens.
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From her inconspicuous position among the drifting icebergs, Mo observed the chaos. Her eyes narrowed as she noted a disturbing development, mass-produced Siren ships were closing in on the flanks of Indomitable's formation.
"They're trying to flank them!" Mo thought urgently.
Unable to break radio silence and with precious seconds slipping away, Mo knew she had to act quickly. She swiftly maneuvered through the maze of icebergs, using her stealth—her radar cross-section now much smaller than a grain of rice—to slip undetected behind Purifier and her supporting Siren fleet.
For a while, everything had gone according to plan. Indomitable's formation daring maneuver had paid off—Purifier was distracted, and Mo had positioned herself in the enemy's vulnerable position undetected. The detachment had executed every maneuver with clinical precision, until, as if by some twist of fate, Murphy's Law decided to remind them that nothing ever goes perfectly.
In the midst of Indomitable's formation retreating for the nth time, Purifier's eyes, usually brimming with manic glee, suddenly flickered. She tilted her head mechanically, her gloved hand rising to caress her cheek as if in contemplation.
"Ehhh? Does this fleet only have a small number of such missiles? That's boring…" Purifier drawled, her tone a strange mix of dejection and amusement. "What would I expect from humans?" she continued with a dismissive shrug. "That was quite an entertaining performance, 6.5 out of 10. But tactical harassment won't kill me, you know? And I'm not so foolish as to not notice one of you is missing. Though, I can't quite place her... Ah, yes of course! She's... BEHIND ME!"
With those words, Purifier's voice took on a sinister lilt as she unleashed a barrage of plasma beams toward the icebergs trailing behind her. The beams seared through the frozen giants, carving large circular holes into them before they slowly sank into the roiling, deep-purple sea.
"Eh, not there? Well, it's not like she could do anything," Purifier taunted with a mocking laugh. "Time to wrap this up~~ consider yourselves lucky to have entertained me. Ciao~~"
At that moment, the flanking Siren ships closed in to sandwich Indomitable and others, who were rushing to Purifier non stop. Numerous black turrets swiveled as dozens of siren aircraft roared into their target. The tension in the Mirror Sea reached a fever pitch as the enemy prepared to finish off Mo's detachment once and for all.
It was until the air filled with the intense roar of rocket burners and intense hums of electricity.
"WHAT THE—!"
Several metal rods and tubes, hurtling at an indiscernible speed, surged out from one of the sinking icebergs. They streaked toward Purifier with lethal precision.
Moments later, a kansen clad in silver-white attire burst forth from the darkness. With an elegant, similarly colored sword drawn sharply, the mysterious figure raced toward Purifier, every movement fluid and purposeful. The unexpected intense assault left the Elite Siren reeling, her earlier taunts replaced by shocked fury.
Mo's command rang out, cutting through the clamor like a clarion call.
"EVERYONE NOW!"
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